Identity Theft?
Identity Theft?
“Oh my gosh, I want some syrup on these waffles!”I remember saying to my friends, as we sat down at the lunch table.
“Syrup!?” one questioned with a smirk.
“You mean sy-rup?” another suggests cracking up.
“You talk so ghetto!” the other laughed tears pouring down her face.
“Yea, yea, Whatever.” I replied laughing as I get up and walk back to the lunch line.
It wasn’t funny. Deep down inside I felt angry. I did not like being put on blast, especially when it was about the way I pronounced things. I also, did not like being called ghetto. Back at this time, I was shy and meek. Ghetto was the last word, I would use to describe anything about myself. At that moment, it was like a huge spotlight was baring down on me. I felt exposed. I wasn’t from a different country, I was simply a twelve year old African- American girl. I did not have an accent, so why did I pronounce syrup so differently from my friends? I later came to find out, that anyone can have an accent. You do not have to be a foreigner to have a defined way in which you speak .The movie American Tongues, defines accent as the way in which you talk. that determines who you are and your identity. I felt that because I said certain words differently, I wasn’t speaking with knowledge. This caused me to consciously change the way I said things when I was with my friends. Not just any words though. Only the he words that would always seem to have a more proper way of being said.Doing this became a strain on me because I would often times have to think about my sentences before saying them. This was so that I would know what words would sound funny to my friends and made them laugh. I did not want to be corrected again, because I didn’t want to experience the uncomfortable feeling of being teased. Not only did I do this with my friends, but I did it in any setting where speaking the way I spoke would sound as people often told me, weird or ghetto. However, growing older I learned that in order to accept myself , I would first have to accept the way I spoke.
My language is my identity. I am in the way I speak. James Baldwin once wrote “Language incontestably says a lot about a person.” This is very true because I define myself through the things I say and the words I use. You can often tell how a person is by the words they use and the way they form their words. My language reflects entirely on my identity. People can often tell where I’m from and the type of person I am, because of the way I pronounce things. Words such as: water, dad, bread, and iron, are the main four words in which people can tell that I am a “Philly girl.” Being a Philly girl, is not the only way that I identify myself. However, it plays a huge role in the way I speak and why I talk the way I do. Born and raised in Southwest Philadelphia, exposed me to many different ways of speech. One of the main types of speech used however is slang. I learned slang from many of my neighbors and the people I would hang out with. This caused me to make adjustments to my own language so that I would fit in with the people around me. I could then relax both my brain and my tongue. Nothing sounded funny, in my neighborhood. This was the only place, in which I would feel comfortable saying certain words in the way I did. However, there are many people from Philadelphia who pronounce these words in the way deemed proper. I often consciously change the way I pronounce these words, especially if I am in a different setting. When I am around a group of new people, I make sure that if I have to say these words, I say them correctly. Although, the episode with the syrup correction, was years ago, I am still conscious in the way in which I pronounce these words. This puts a strain on me, because I began to realize that, I am trying to change the way I said things because I was afraid of getting corrected.
This then affects the way I act. If I am consistently changing the way I talk, I cannot fully express my bubbly and talkative personality. This in turn affects, the way people identify me. I realized this before it became a habit. I can now fully accept the way I speak as a part of me. This makes me also feel good with my identity and the way I am. I no longer hide and mask, the way I pronounce certain words. Correction sometimes comes, but instead of the brash and ridiculing laughter, the made me feel so uncomfortable years ago. There is the warm humble laughter of the people willing to accept my pronunciation of these words. Even if the laughter, was how it was years ago, I have now not only only accepted my language but my accent. My accent that determines who I am.
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