I Can't Understand You

“Say it again!”

“ Wanzie”, my mom said.

“I thought it was onesie.” I said laughing.

“That’s what I said, wanzie.”

Another round of laughter came from my sister and I. My mom was thinking of gifts for her friends baby shower and the idea of a “wanzie” came up. We had never heard my mom say that word before. We thought my mom talked without an accent. All my life I thought my mom sounded like any other American, but friends and strangers would ask where my mom was from.  The rest of her family had strong accents that even made it hard for me to understand sometimes. I could never understand how she sounded different. Until that day.


My mom is Guyanese. She was born and raised in Guyana with all of her family. At the age of sixteen, she and my grandmother came to America. In high school, people couldn’t understand what she said. They made mean jokes and stereotypes about where she was from. In college, my mom wanted to go  into Communications. She wanted to be “the next Oprah”, but she knew she had to lose the accent. She didn’t end up being the next Oprah but she did get a job at our church being the Events Coordinator. This job meant she would always be on the phone and communicating with people. Her new voice was beautiful. So beautiful that she became the voice on the answering machine. But why was it good enough there but not good enough in college?

When I was younger, I never noticed my mom had an accent. People say I have lived with her so long that I wouldn’t notice. I thought my mom was like every other American mom, except for the fact that she made curry and other Guyanese foods. Whenever people asked where she was from I thought it was her appearance. Maybe Guyanese people looked differently that other Americans? But then they would say to her “Oh your accent gave it away.” “What accent,” I would think, “ she didn’t have an accent.” Sometimes, after I would hear my grandma or someone with a strong Guyanese accent speak, I would ask my mom to talk with her accent. I would say she’s “americanized” and tell her she’s lost her Guyanese roots, all jokingly of course. All along not knowing she never lost it.


My mother’s side of the family has always been strict on speaking properly. My grandmother doesn’t accept slang or incorrect pronunciation of words. “Mac and cheese” is changed to “macaroni and cheese” and “You went over her house? Like flew over it?” is asked if  “went over her house” isn’t  changed to “went to her house”. Proper speaking is a must. New slang words are the types of things she gets mad at us for saying. Because I am black, people will automatically think I speak improperly. My mom installs in my sister and I that our language is everything. People will judge you by how you speak and she doesn’t want that to happen. “Open your mouth and pronunciate,” is a line I hear a lot,”you want people to understand you.” She learned that the hard way.

In class, we read a passage by James Baldwin. In the passage, a quote stuck out to me and I felt that it would fit perfectly into my essay. The quote says “It goes without saying, then, that language is also a political instrument, means, and proof of power.” This quote relates to me because I think if my mom didn’t have an accent then she would have had a better chance at achieving her goal. I’m not saying that that is the only reason because their are many other factors, but I believe that it would have helped dramatically. If my mom didn’t have her accent, she would have had a better shot at having a job in the area she went to school for. A better job would result to a higher salary. Her accent determines what types of jobs she will get. Just like in the passage, “means” are a result of her language. She could be the smartest person in the world, but her language will counteract that. Society wants us to speak a certain way and if we don’t we are looked down upon and not given the same opportunities as everybody else.


I have had experiences where I have been told I talk “white”. This means that I speak like a “white person” would talk. I don’t think I talk like I’m “white”. I believe I talk properly when I’m around certain people. I speak differently when I’m around professionals because I know that the way I speak will determine how they view me. The way they view me determines if I get the job or the opportunity I want. My skin color already creates stereotypes so my language has to change that.  My mom tells me to always speak properly because she knows how important it is. She doesn’t want me to have limited opportunities because of the way I speak.


I don’t agree with the way the world treats people who speak differently than how they thinks they are supposed to speak. I believe that everyone should be treated equally, no matter how they speak. Not everyone can speak “white”. It’s unfair to withhold opportunities from people because they don’t fit the language criteria that society has. Sadly, we don’t live in a time like that. I now understand why my mom pushes for a great education for my sister and I and for us to speak clearly and properly. She does not want us to be cut out from opportunities that we can be given because of our language. My mom had to work hard to change her language to fit in with society. Now that we don’t have to work as hard, she doesn’t want us to take our language for granted and mess it up. She just wants the best for us.

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