Ayoola Hooks-Gibbs

Introduction:

The project is about me not speaking up, the project was my language biography. The process of my essay, was when the first time we got introduced to the topic me not speaking up popped in to my head.  First I thought about things that happened to me that had to do with  me not speaking up, and turn them in to scenes. After I remembered a couple of scenes that’s when I began to fill in my essay with details. Different things I learned when writing this essay was I grew from when I never really spoke up, to becoming sociable because people motivated me.


Paper:

“I can’t hear you!”
“Girl, you need to break out of that shell, not gone get you no where”
… I’ve been hearing this phrase. All. My. Life.  If I could, I would go back in time and speak up! I’ve lost opportunities for really amazing things and finding out who I am because of not speaking up. People won’t stop and listen to a person that doesn’t ever speak up. They won’t even take the time and find out whom I am. I wanted to become a model ever since I started to watch “America’s Next Top Model.” The girls on that show are loud, outgoing, and free spirited. One day, I told my mom
“Mom, I want to become a model.”
“That’s great, but you’re too shy, I won’t be with you on that runway or talking on talk shows for you. You’ll have to speak up for your self.”
She would say that every time I had an idea for something I wanted to pursue or something that I have interest in. Her answer would be ‘You’re too shy’, every time.
I tried…I really tried to speak up more when in front of strangers. Excect, my throat tighten up, my hands get clammy and I would start to sweat. Would I ever be able to break out of my shell?

My grand mom, my mom and I drove down to North Carolina in June 2011, to visit our cousin who’s 93 that we’ve never met in person. We drive up to a small house that was falling apart. “OH NO,” I said in my head.
“Are we sleeping over at her house,” I asked.
“Yeah,” my mom said.
We knock on the door and this lady opens the door with a welcoming smile. This is so not she! She looks too young. We walk in the living room, has a red carpet with a bunch of pictures and a couch rapped with plastic covering. Then, we walk in to the kitchen and I see my skinny cousin, with a bald cut, she actually looked healthy for a 93 year old. The house was creeping me out because it smelled old, and I was so ready to turn right back around and GO HOME! That night, my grand mom, mom and I were arguing about the sleeping arrangements. Who was going to sleep with our cousin and who was going to sleep in the other room where there was a pull out bed for two.
“Ayoola, you sleep with her!” my grand mom said
“Oh my gosh, No!”
“Well, I’m not sleeping with her, that’s for sure” My mom said.
We were laughing that whole night and making jokes about how theirs ghost in the house.
That night my grand mom slept with my cousin and I slept with my mom on the pull out couch.
A day has passed and all I’ve done was sit in the rocking chair in the kitchen and count the days and hours I had left.
It was the last day and before we left my cousin took me by my wrist and said, “You’re too quiet, you won’t get anywhere not talking, you need to speak up for your self, and you hear me?”


 All my life people would say things to me, and they knew I wouldn’t say anything, but when I would go home I would reenact the situations where people would disrespect me, and I would act like their right in my face and I would go at. I would open up my eyes; there I was in front of the mirror. Things needed to change...I needed to change.

High school was a big leap for me, because I was at my middle school K-8, I knew everyone, it was like my second home because I wasn’t so quiet their and the teachers were really cool. When it came to high school, I was lost at first and didn’t speak much, out side of the class I was screaming, laughing, and wild...CRAZY! When it came to the class I was quiet, I’m only loud with people I’m comfortable around.  This school is all about Presentation and Collaboration...why am I here? I’m going to die here! Their I was in front the class, and it was my turn to speak. As I pointed to my powerpoint on the screen, I would begin to stutter nervously, “Um, um, um.... here’s my part!” Was I really ready for this school?
I got a job -it was over the summer before my tenth grade year.  It was a job with the Student Conservation Association. I honestly think that summer of 2011, I found myself and became more confident in front of people. We had to work in a group for my job - four boys and five girls. Out of all of them, I was the youngest, why me!! I was the only one going to the tenth grade, the rest of them were going to College or to the twelth grades. For the first two weeks it was okay, we worked in the woods, cleaning, we got paid and everything was going well... until people wanted to act so stinky towards me. They thought that they could disrespect me, just because I was the youngest and the quietist. For the rest of the four weeks, I was alone, I didn’t speak and who ever started to get disrespectful I would get in their face, the days were HOT. I was in jeans all day with boots I had to wear, and didn’t want to take anything from anyone. I started to notice my change, I was more confident. Every morning when we would all meet up at Broad and Girard and get in to the vans to head to the Wissahickon park, everyone else was noticing my attitude. I didn’t laugh anymore, I wasn’t smiling, I would have a kind of face that was like “Mess with me and we’re going to have a problem”

My personality did change a bit over the summer, so I thought that I should lay off talking to people that disrespect me, and arguing means that they’re getting their way, because people annoy you just to get your angry reaction.
“It was when I found out I had to talk, that school became a misery.” This quote is from the book Tongue Tied That quote is very similar to my autobiography because that’s how I felt, when the teachers told me I had to speak up all the time. it was hard for me to yell in class in front of 30 kids and a teacher that’s grading me. In the story “Tongue Tied” is about the girl went to Chinese School to get more confidence and when she was with her own kind she was loud and free. When I’m with my friends, I’m goofy and loud, but when it comes to a class, I become quiet, which is similar to the girl in “Tongue Tied.”




Tenth grade came around and I felt a little boost to become more talkative and outgoing. I saw a change within weeks. I was making new friends, but one thing that didn’t change was my presentation skills.  I would still stand in front of the class and talk in the lowest voice ever.
I was presenting in Bio Chemistry one day, and my teacher was getting annoyed with me, after class, she told me that my presentation skills is a big part of her class, a big part of the school. Now that my grades can easily go down because I’m not loud enough, I feel as though I didn’t have time to gradually talk up and gain confidence. If I don’t, when will I? I have to start…
Now.



Language Autobiography By:Sean McAninch

Posted by Sean McAninch on
Introduction . 
​ I when i was working on this Autobiography the part i struggled with was when i need to make a plan for it i didn't really remember much about when i code switched to fit the time but then as i thought of it more and tried to remember times that i would switch to blend into the environment. the easy part was when i first started the Autobiography and then i knew were i wanted to go with it.

Autobiography
    The way that we are required to code switch from one dialect/language to another from standard English to an informal way of speaking like when I'm playing games Online with people I talk in Texttalk like “wtf”, and “lol”. But if I were sending an email I would type in full sentences. If I’m in an interview, then I would talk formally or if I'm with an adult that I know get angry if I don’t use Standard English when they’re talking to me in a formal manner. But with people I consider friends then I joke around with them when I talk with them. Most of the time when I just meet some one, I will speak with them formally until I get to know them and their personality.

Then I will code switch to see what type of tone I can talk with them in so they don’t get offended. Some times I find that it is easier to all ways talk formal new people I meet but I don't want them to think I'm not enthusiastic when their talking informal. When I go to a new place I don’t talk much but when I’m where I usually stay I talk a lot. The way that I speak changes with the setting that I find myself in. but now that I'm getting more comfortable about talking in public.  Now I still don’t talk much but I still don’t talk much. I think it is because I don’t want sound stupid that is why I don’t talk unless I’m asked a question then I talk to them but at first I just stay and lesson to the way they act then I know if I can just say any thing around them.

    I would never talk to people if it weren’t for my brother Ed. When he first introduced me to his friends I was shy and didn’t want to talk. But when I meet his friend Lonnie he made it clear that I was not just going to sit there. He in colluded me in all of the activities like playing “super smash bros brawl”. When I first met him I was really quite and Lonnie's mom nicknamed me shadow because I never talked and I just stayed behind my brother.
    Another time I code switched was when I was shadowing at SLA. I shadowed my brother so all his friends were trying to make me come out of my shell and talk more. But I was to shy because I was in a new zone. Also it was too unfamiliar to me event though I was with someone I know I just couldn’t bring my self to talk. Event when I would just tell people my name I would sturdier and mess up.

A time I need to code switch to be accepted was at my SLA interview. I was very respect full to the people that were interviewing me event though I was scared and shy. I code switched to make it sound as if I was not scared.   And I answer all the questions to the best of my power. Also made it clear on what I was saying to them.

When I’m talking at home I use informal words but if my mom or dad would talk to me I would auto atuomatly switch to not show any disrespect.

Now that I am growing up I am learning that you need to code switch so you can get a job or get accepted to a school. Although it may be hard for some people to code switch. Now that I have been through so many different times that I have needed to change the way I talk to be accepted by the people around with out being scorn. With that sad looks like the different code for each accession.

That is how I use code switching to one dialect/language to another just so you can have an easier time getting a job. That is why I have tried to master code switching so that I can change it at any time to fit any time or setting. That is why I will talk formally with them until I get to know them and their personality

Maintain A Safe Following Distance (3 Second Rule)

Shamarlon Yates & Naquan Harding

A couple seconds could mean the difference between life and death.

____________________________________________________________________________
Dropbox link: http://dl.dropbox.com/u/2196201/3 Second Rule%3ASafe Following Distance PSA.m4v

Roger Bracy's Language Auto Biography

Introduction:
            The purpose of this project was to inform us on the idea that we all speak a language but it may show certain things about our identity. Throughout this process we’ve have talked of ways that we have language identity in our city’s, family’s, and home’s. Our assignment was to connect the language we use in our every day lives to create scenes for a larger idea, thus making our Language Auto Biography. When I wrote this the hardest part was connecting this to a larger idea but I think I’ve solved this when I made my draft.

Language Auto Biography:

I waited at the door to our hotel room with the fresh smell of groceries in my hands. I was listening and enjoying my family on a hot august day. I watched and learned a ton of language in the south. Coming from Philadelphia on they way here traveling through the states like Maryland and North Carolina the rest stop filled with strangers. At McDonald's in Virginia I found my self in the sea of dialects and accents.  During the ride we enjoyed each other’s company while we talked watch and laughed the whole ride there. During vacation I notice change in voice almost if I’ve changed who I was.

I rolled the red luggage cart into room 220 along with the groceries we’d bought from the store. Fighting through all the hugs, kisses, and handshakes of my cousins’ aunts and uncles. Unloading the cart in relief we were finally here it was officially summer for me and I couldn’t wait to get on the beach. My aunt called me in to the well-lit kitchen.

Strolling in the room while she held up a card, she gave me a look and reported. “Now this is your room card don’t lose it Rog or your butt is mine!” Now coming from the high raised eyebrow on her forehead I could tell she meant business. She quick asked “are you sure you can take care of this card cause we won’t get another.”  I grab it quick trying to run out the room, I herd her yell from out the side of my ear. “Yall better not loose it!”  Some of her accent show for minute as a walked away she changed who she was to get her point across

While I’ve noticed this from my aunt many times, I’ve also notice how she would act in her profession. Overhearing a conversation of her while she called back to her job in Pittsburgh. She seemed to present herself using Standard English which could mislead people. While everyone has an accent, but we all try to relate to people using Standard English. Why is this? Maybe we have indicated that a structured language is a language of power and we can use it to get people to understand, listen, and comprehend in the real world.

Not saying that the accents can be misunderstood, but I’m stating that we use Standard English to get our points across and to get our thoughts heard. Power is power and we need this survive our everyday jobs and lives in the business world. In a article written by James Baldwin If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is? (1979). Baldwin stated about the language equaling power, “...and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger, public, or communal identity”. The way my aunt change her accent to relate to a client she really shows that the modern world takes advantage this language in thought that they can control people. I wondered what her client would think if she had talked with her Pittsburgh/ southern dialect would the call be totally different deal.

That summer when I noticed she wasn’t talking like my mom, her own sister, I started to understand she had some sort of dialect came in her voice. It seemed so foreign even though she was my aunt, she lives in Pittsburgh and me, in Philadelphia:; How could 5 hour distance have such a impact on the way a person talks? Seeing that this is true I can also talk to my grandmother, who is currently living in Georgia and when she arrived to our room she greeted us on as she could “So how y’all doin?”

Being with me grandmother is always like I’m meeting her for the first time not only because of the distance we live away from each other also by her accent. When I usually hear a southern accent at first glance I start thoughts of farms and a rural hot area where the people aren’t well educated, James Baldwin’s theory, of Black English evolving in the south during slavery, show how the accents of many came about. He stated that during the trip here, the whole culture of African Americans was taken away along with their languages. So using the English that they have come quick to learn during there time in slavery they would soon that structured dialect, that almost every white person in the south knew, into Black English; Something that the slave owners couldn’t understand until later after. My grandmother talked more of the English version of that but it still occurred to me that’s where her accent originated.

Our Language Identity we can find in our homes throughout our many lines of family but it always finds it’s way back to us when we get lost in the professional world. In the powerful world of jobs and professions we struggle with holding our true language identity because we some dialects are frowned upon in the eyes of power so we learn to talk the same. When we really dig deep enough i think we can really find our true language identity, but only if we take breaks from our jobs and just spend time to interact with the people around you.

Digital Story:



Rosemary Flite

Citations

Rose, Mike . I Just Want To Be Average. Print.


Intro

We have been talking about language in English class and it opened up my eyes to what language really is. I never realized what exactly language is, all i though it was is something people speak, like French, Spanish, or English. Maybe people don’t realize that. In society people are all different and I never really thought about that until I wrote this paper about language. It was an assignment for my english class so before all I thought it was just like what language a person speaks but as I thought more into it I realized the real meaning of language. Language is identity and that is what my paper is about. It’s your identity because it describes who you are. Everyone is different and that includes their language. Most people don’t realize that though.

I had an easy time writing my scenes because I knew what happened so I was just retelling my story about that and it just flowed  together easily. I think that might be the strongest part of my paper because I explained the details and feeling in that moment in time. I struggled with my analysis of my scenes though because I always have trouble with that and I never feel like it’s good enough. I revise my analysis parts of my paper a lot so that I can have it to the best possible.


Paper

Language is more than just words that someone says. It’s as much of a person’s identity as is their name is. It’s identity because it’s something special about you and it’s important because no body want to be friends with a copy of everyone else in the world. No two people in the world talk the exact same way and that’s because everyone has something different about their language. A person could speak a foreign language, they could have code names that only their friends and them know of, they could use slang or Standard English, or in my case, have a lisp. Sometimes those differences make people judgmental and feel like they need to change someone because it’s not society’s definition of “normal.”

I have experienced what that judgment feels like and it’s horrible. Language is identity and when someone tries to change that it makes you feel like you are not good enough. I was in speech therapy all the way from first grade to eighth and I hated it. I went two days a week and each of those days I remember begging my mom to let me stay home even though I knew it was no use and each time I was called out of class to go I would turn and red as a tomato, put my head down as I stood up and hurry out of the classroom as fast as possible, hoping that nobody would notice me.

In seventh grade my friend, Misty, and I were both in the middle of a dull history class and the phone rang. As our teacher walked to the phone my mind was swarmed with thoughts, “Hopefully it’ll be someone going home early! Or maybe it’ll be my mom calling to pick me up early because she knew how badly I hated speech! Or or or maybe it’s a call from the speech teacher saying we don’t have to go today because she has a meeting!” I was torn out of my hopeful thoughts with the history teacher saying “Rosie and Misty! Time to go!” Once I heard that I did my usual routine, turn red, duck, and run out of the classroom. My history class was on the third floor and the therapist’s office was on the second floor. As I walked down to the second floor each step made me feel more embarrassed. When I got into her room my first thoughts were “Yay back to prison.” Her office was the size if a supply closet, instead of a door it had one of those gates you see at malls when it’s time for all the stores to close, a table and cabinet was all that could fit into the room and all that was left in there was a tiny clock that I would never take my eyes off of.

Misty and I sat down at the table with the therapist, Mrs. G. She asked us about our weekend and we answered but that wasn’t good enough for her so she started rolling her eyes and saying, “Tongue behind your teeth when you say something with a S in it, Rosie. And Misty remember why you’re here.” Then made us repeat what we said until it was perfect. Each time I would fight back my tears and the urge to tell her that I wasn’t perfect and just because I have a lisp doesn’t mean I needed to be treated like a baby. I knew I couldn’t cry though because I would be judged and I couldn’t talk back without getting in trouble so I just had to grin and bare it. Every time after speech Misty and I would talk about how we felt like we were monkeys trapped in a cage called school for everyone to watch and laugh at.

I was able to handle being made fun of about the way I talk, but when my little brother came to my school for first grade, he also had a lisp. I was afraid that kids would be as mean to him as they were to me but his friends weren’t mean to him about it at all. They didn’t notice anything about it and to then he was a normal kid, they played games and had fun and didn’t worry about anything, but to my friends he was “retarded. ” One day when I was in seventh grade and he was in first, a boy in my science class told me these words, “Your brother talks so funny, he’s retarded.” My response was “Shut up!” and I ran off to the bathroom balling my eyes out.

That’s what made me realize that language is identity because when you talk differently people will create their own character for yourself even if you look at yourself differently then that. All throughout first to eight grade I didn’t know what confidences was because I was always afraid since I didn’t talk how society wanted nobody would like me. I was really shy and had only a few friends. When I finally graduated and came to SLA I realized that language couldn’t be forced upon somebody. You can’t control a person because when you do try to you might create more problems, at least in my case and also Misty’s that’s what happened. I am happy with myself and I like my lisp, it’s something that makes me different then everyone else and it’s part of whom I am.

What people who make judgments need to remember though is a quote from an essay called I Just Want to be Average by Mike Rose. It says, “The charade was over, and when it came down to it, I don’t think any of the kids really wanted it to end up this way.” I wish I could have had the guts to tell people something like what that quote says when I was bullied and judged for talking funny. It describes what was going on with me because I wasn’t pretending to be someone whom I wasn’t; I wasn’t putting up a charade. People don’t think about how their words affect others and so I was the misfit for nothing that I could control. It really opened my eyes to know people are because they judge off of what’s different to them, your identity.

My Language


The purpose of this project was to make an autobiography about your language. In my autobiography, I talked about how my language has evolved over the years. From simple english, to code switching. 


Language Auto-Biography
Nicholas Murray

Language is a beautiful thing isn't it? Language is one of the most important aspects of life. Language can be found in almost anything, not just proper English. Language can be anything, sign language, written, movement and even something you just made on impulse. One thing about language that definite, is that languages always evolves. in my life, I have had many experiences with languages. My language has always been changing, always evolving. Let me show you, my struggles, my accomplishments, my evolution.

Lets go back a few years, to when I was still starting out. This scene is about how “successful” I was at talking to others and trying to make friends. I was always a nervous and over thought everything. I still do.

 3 seconds. What do I do? They were coming closer, only a few feet away. Thoughts raced all through my head. Calm down Nicholas its no big deal to anyone else, so I can do it for sure. But, what if it doesn’t go so well? What if I fail like always? What if I’m just ignored again? 2 seconds. No I can do it. I must do it! I need to change. Don’t lose faith now. I don’t want to stay like this! It’s so degrading. I don’t want to always be like this. I want to be more like you. You’re So open. You’re So free. If only I could take some of that for myself. 1 second. Please. Move. Do it. Just simply, speak. 0 seconds. “‘Yo” I mumbled with a quaking, nervous voice, barely audible. I was passed, so coldly, simply because I did not know how to use my voice. One day, I will be more like you some day. Just wait, and listen.

This, was a very common thing for me. I was always so quiet. It was so difficult for me to get good points across, so my ideas were usually left there. Dead. I just pushed my ideas aside, killing them in the process. Haha. I was an unintentional accomplice in murder. And I was fine with that. So it was always hard for me to make friends at school. It stayed like that for a majority of my life. Tragic. Ah, but it wasn’t just at school, this was at my house to, although it was only a little bit, I was always shy at home. I was just a timid little child, un-able to use their voice properly. I always felt  powerless, since words mean power. That feeling of helplessness still lingers with me today. From that experience I learned something very valuable though. It is impossible to live without language. In order to have a normal life, you need to have some kind of language. Without language I would just be some nobody. Unimportant.

Why was I so pathetic with using my voice. Well I guess you could say it was my background. Both of my parents are from Jamaica, but me and my siblings grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood. There was pretty much only a handful of colored people there. There was a small amount of slang there, so I learned proper English. After a while I moved to Upper Darby into a predominantly black neighborhood. Even the white people were black. I found it extremely hard to fit in for the next few years, simply because they grew up around slang and I had to get use to talking to them. I learned how to talk using slang, but it did not come out naturally,since It was not how a normally talk, so I Just sat there listening. Even just listening to them talk was enough back then. Because I learned this new language I gained new interests. Music was one of the most important ones, because it has become an irreplaceable part of my identity. Even though you can not completely comprehend a language, as long as you can somewhat understand it, you can evolve from it.

Now a days I am more talkative. I have gotten better at using slang, and use it regularly. But, just because I learned a new language, doesn’t mean I don’t use proper English. There are advantages to both. When I speak in my casual language, I can relax and express myself. Not to forget making new friends. When I use my formal language, I get adults to respect me, and my friends parents to love me, and the more people that love me, the better. But after getting better at both of my languages, I feel so much more free. Especially at home, where I use a mixture of both.

“Hollaa!” Oh no it was one of those days again. “Yo, mom chill!” “Ha-ha, holla.” Man, why did she have to start up with this as soon as I get home? She only does this at home, anywhere else she is so proper. I think she does it just to annoy me. “Why do you always say that?”, I said “What?” My mom replied “That word?”   “What word?” She teased “HOLLA! Darn it…” “Ha-ha, well why can’t I?”, She answered, “You can talk like that, so why can’t I? It’s fun to talk like this. I guess you can say it is fun to express myself.” I guess she was right. I always express myself, so why can’t she. I guess this was unfair to get upset over it, but it was still annoying me. It irks the life out of me. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it though. I guess its just her way of having fun. I have mines, she has hers.
Language is a beautiful thing isn't it? It has affected so many aspects of my life its incredible. I have found the importance in each of my major languages, music, slang and proper English. Language is in everything I do, and defines me. Language has evolved me again and again and made me, me. The experiences I have had with language are unforgettable. Because of them, I grew stronger, and now you can’t shut me up. But don’t get mad at me, I just want to share my beautiful language with you.











here is the link to my video


Language Autobiography

Intro/Reflection:
            Basically, after reading this you’ll see a hint of my personality through language. If we were the same age, I would talk to you the same way I talk in the dialogues. You’ll see how I talk with friends, but not with family or elders because I could guess that everyone with respect speaks to elders the same way. I had a hard time choosing a scene to write about, and exactly which parts of my language to write about that are unique about me. Once I had it all figured out, it was easy just writing it because it’s me, I have the most experience and I know exactly how I speak. Doing this project made me realize a couple aspects about my language that I never really paid attention to. I also learned that your language determines where you fit in best.


Autobiography:

I was a kid born on April 27, 1996 and raised in Philadelphia, PA. Even though I was the only white guy in an urban environment, it was really easy to fit in. I never had a problem with it. Even though I was really white, me being Macedonian made me look Puerto Rican. My whole family looks either Puerto Rican or Mexican. We never knew until every time we went out to eat the waiter would speak to us in Spanish and we would have to tell them we don’t know Spanish.

As I grew up, I spoke 2 languages, English and Albanian. I spoke both at home and at school. In kindergarten, I spoke Albanian to the teacher and she never understood me so my parents had to start speaking English to me all the time to forget Albanian just until I grew up a little older.

“I believed that her English reflected the quality of what she had to say.” (Mother Tongue, page 2) In a way, different people already guess if what the person has to say is important or not. For example, the way I talk with my friends is different than how I talk to my family and how I speak formally. The result of me living in an urban environment affected the different languages I speak. It’s all the same words, but depending on whom I’m talking to, I have limitations for the choices of wording. Around my friends, I have no limitations; I can speak freely; curse a little, use slang, or just speak the language everyone else is speaking, that’s how I code-switch I listen to the language people are talking first then I adapt to it. I would use words like “was good?” to ask “how are you?” or “how’s it going?” or “jawn” to replace the actual thing I’m talking about to save time having to think about what its name is and more on describing it so the person I’m talking to knows what I’m talking about. Basically I can say what whatever I want. Whenever I speak like this, almost anything I say is irrelevant, but it carries a social conversation. Talking to family has limitations; I speak freely, but I don’t curse, or use slang. “Was good” would turn to “hey” or “hi” and I would cut out any language that can get me grounded with my rights taken away. Then when I talk to any other elders or people with power, I speak strictly Standard English and I watch what I say instead of speaking freely to show the quality behind my thoughts using big and meaningful words. Despite the limitations, there are advantages because as I choose the limitations for myself or show the respect I have for people, I gain more respect from the people around me as they see how I show them respect. Respect will always come in handy.

One way I speak with my friends is like when I meet them in the morning at SLA. As I walked into school, I scanned my ID to mark myself present and my day started. “8 O’CLOCK TIME TO GO UP!”, yelled Officer Byrd to get everyone to go to class. I listen to this as I walk in and have to fight the traffic of people walking towards the stairs which are in back of me. I walk over to my friends first because I still have 10 minutes before class starts and I want to wake up fully to begin my day. “WAS GUD BRANDEN?!”, I say in a hyper emotion as I offer a handshake starting from over my head to interlock palms and then pivot the body of our thumbs to switch into a formal handshake. Branden with his black glasses, tan jacket, baggy blue jeans, and grey Nike Air Jordan sneakers responds to my arrival with a hyped up, “REAL N****S!” Of course this response to my question didn’t make sense, but I just went with it and went on to all the rest of my friends giving handshakes and greeting them with, “Wassup yo” (another word we use to say “hey” or “hi” that makes us sound more masculine). They all responded with a regular “Wassup” back, except for Michael. Michael actually started a conversation.

“Wassup Mike?”
“Nothin yo, you chillin?”
“Yeah, I’m chillin, you chillin?”
“Nho” Nodding side to side laughing softly.
“Why? Hehe”, laughing along
“I donno”, he’s still laughing but it dies down after a couple seconds.
“Haha! Wow” I remained silent from then because I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about. It was still the morning and I don’t usually have anything to talk about during that time.
                   I look around and see the Café almost empty and the clock is almost at 8:10. So I make my way upstairs along with everyone else to our first class.
           “People tend to switch back to their original language when they’re under stress.” (American Tongues) This is true for many because I know when I get stressed or when I’m in certain situations I start to forget the language I’m speaking and switch to a language to let go of my feelings. People like me do this all the time, when we have a lot of work we tend to turn their Standard English into cursing and slang. I do this mostly when I get frustrated or angry.
           I just got home from a long day of school. I go to my room, sit in my blue bean bag chair and I open my school MacBook and like always I go on Facebook before I start homework to check my notifications and other people’s statuses for about 3 minutes. I started noticing how the only statuses my friends post are about what relationships should be like. This friend posted, “LMS IF YU LOYAL,” (Like my status if you’re faithful). That friend posted something similar, it just keeps going on. After a couple minutes I go on Tumblr for a laugh before I start my homework. This time I didn’t see anything except photography of scenery like beaches or pictures of celebrities with a meaningful quote. I finally reach my senses to start homework and go on Moodle to see what’s due. I look at the assignments with a forceful sigh as I continue down the long list and then look at the little time I have to finish it. Then to top off my stress, 3 of my friends IM me on iChat simultaneously. Kenny says, “Yo u finishd the jawn?” “Naa I dnt kno where to start with all this f*****n b******s homework!” I replied seeing red. “LMAO me 2 yo” “Yo imma talk to u later man f*ck this sh*t.” “Ard yo.” I quit iChat and then started my homework hastily because I only had 2 hours until bed time.
           Everybody speaks different languages, even when they don’t know it. In my life, I speak different kinds of English along with other languages, but English will always be my native language and slang will always be fluent to me. My language identity may seem complex to others, but it’s my identity, I’m used to it, I live by it and it’s a huge part of my personality.

Watch It Here

Language Autobiography: Introduction/Reflection, Essay, Digital Video

Introduction:
For this 2nd quarter English benchmark we are discovering what language means to us personally. We started off with reading short stories by people who had a story that had to do with language just like us. After reading their stories we were able to think about what our stories with language is. For me language is mostly related to my family. My family speaks a second language that is not spanish. Over the years as I grew up I had to learn to adjust to both languages. In my autobiography I talk about how my parents strugge with english and how it effects me. 

Reflection:
Overall I am really proud of my Benchmark. I think I successfully got out the message of what language is to me and how it effects me. I think some of my strengths was the story I was telling to represent what language is in my perspective. I think I am really good at writing scenes. I think my digital video was also really good. I think I found good pictures to go along with my narration. Some of my weaknesses I think is with my conclusion of the essay. I think I wrapped it up a little too fast. If I could do the essay again I think I would make it wrap up more smoothly.


Language Autobiography Essay:

I was waiting in the office. It was going to be another one of those conferences. These conferences were always the one event that I never looked forward to even though I knew I had nothing too bad to worry about. My report card looked amazing. It was definitely something I was proud of. I had A’s in all of my classes’ except for Algebra 1, it’s always math that’s my greatest weakness. I’m good at math, just never good enough to get an A. I always get the B. But that was the last thing on my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about how the conference was going to be like. I was going to have to translate for my dad and my adviser’s back and forth. I hated talking Bengali in front of people whom I usually spoke English with. I just hated that awkward feel. I could just see the looks of my adviser’s when I start blabbering in Bengali for my dad. I wish that I didn’t have to translate in the first place. I mean my family and I have been living in a English speaking country for such a long time, why is translating so necessary?

Both of my brothers and sisters are a hundred percent fluent in English and I think that a lot of the time we think of English as our default language, putting Bengali second. If we could adjust to English so well why couldn’t my dad? I didn’t understand why my dad couldn’t speak proper English.

I was also upset over the fact that my mom wasn’t coming for the conference and that my dad was coming instead. I never really got a long with my dad. I had always preferred my mom. She always understood how I felt and we rarely ever argued. She also knew better English than my dad did, though she still had an accent. Even still, she spoke good enough to go through a report card conference without needing my help for translation. Also unlike my dad, she took ESOL classes a few years ago and she definitely benefited from it. But unfortunately she wasn’t going to be present during the conference. I sighed and looked at the door.

My dad walked into the office. He came over to me and asked where my conference was going to be.

           “3rd floor, lets go.” I said, tired, sounding like it too.

My dad smiled and nodded at Ms. Diane and headed back out the office door. I followed him out and then stepped ahead of him so I could lead him to Mr. Chase’s room. I knocked on his door and walked in. Mr. Chase and Kay both shook hands with my dad.

“So what do we have here?” Mr. Chase says sounding pensive as he looked down at my narratives. “Jasmin, you can start” Mr. Kay said, nodding at me.           

I began to talk about my grades and how my hardworking earned me A’s, I talked about when I went to lit/math lab during all of my lunch hours through the benchmark season and how I planned to improve in Algebra by taking more standards the next quarter. After I was done talking I looked at my adviser’s, they smiled and asked me a few questions along with giving me some recommendations so that I could keep up with my good grades. I nodded at my teachers, satisfied with their responses, and unwillingly turned to my dad. He was looking too intently at my report card, I thought he didn’t listen to anything I had said, or even understood anything I had said for the past 5 minutes. I sighed in annoyance, and repeated everything I had already said translating it into Bengali for him. My dad looked at me and the narratives back and forth. He nodded his head when I talked about all the A’s. That’s all he ever cared about. After I was done with the translation I looked back at my adviser's. They smiled.

“Balo corso” My dad said, meaning that I did a good job.

“Great job, kiddo!” Mr. Chase said enthusiastically with a big smile.

“We’re proud of you” Mr. Kay said also smiling widely.

“Thanks” I said quietly.

My dad got up and shook hands with my advisers again. I said bye and headed out the door with my dad.

On the way home I was upset throughout the whole ride. I tried to construct my expression into one that wouldn’t give away any of my hidden emotion that I was feeling at the moment. I didn’t show any sign of dis decency. “Balo corso” that’s all he said. I couldn’t believe it. I worked so hard for the past three quarters in my first year of high school and all I get in the end are two lousy words: “good job?” I could think of so many other things my dad could have said. Things that a parent who spoke and understood perfect English could have said. Maybe something like “You did an amazing job this quarter? I’m so proud of you. Don’t you worry about that B in Algebra, I am a hundred percent sure that you can bring that up with just a little bit more effort.” In my head that seemed to be the perfect thing to say instead of just a “Balo corso.”

As soon as I came home I saw my brother and sister compare their report cards. My dad had picked up theirs just before my conference.

“How’d you do?” My sister said.

“Good, you?” I responded.

“Not bad” She said sounding annoyed.

“What’s wrong?” I said. I could hear the curiosity in my voice.

“You should have seen how my conference went! I had to translate for Abujaan, he didn’t respond to any of the questions that my teachers were asking. And I had to translate the whole time!” She blabbered.

I shook my head and smiled. My sister had basically summarized exactly what had happened in my conference. I think that my dad’s lack of speaking English didn’t just affect me but also my sister.

My dad grew up speaking Bengali and was first introduced to English when we moved to Philadelphia. English as a second language was probably a huge a for him. A change much greater for him, than for my siblings or me. “language spoken in the family, especially in immigrant families which are more insular, plays a large role in shaping the language of the child” said Amy Tan. I think that what Amy Tan is trying to say is that speaking English in a family that that always speaks a different language changes who the person is. Just like my dad, who can be perfectly comfortable speaking Bengali but just as uncomfortable speaking English around those who speak it as their native language. From my experiences speaking Bengali and then learning English along with my family, I can definitely say language plays a big role in my life and it shapes who I am in the different characters that I play in life.



Language Digital Video:

Language Autobiography

1) Introduction

In the beginning we were asked to make a language autobiography about our language. At first I didn't understand what it meant to write that. After I read some other language autobiographies, I somewhat understood what it meant to write a language autobiography. I think that I wrote something similar to Amy Tan's "Mother Tongue" because I can relate to her. I learned a lot about how people think what languages are and how different we speak even though we all speak english.


2)

 I might still not be an adult now, but I know the experiences of becoming an adult. I was burdened with the responsibility to become my parents, or rather answer the phone calls as them, in the early course of my childhood.. At the time I was only 8 or 9 years old, my parents mostly spoke broken English and I answered most of the calls that came from anyone that was speaking English.


As I was the one going to school in America and spoke English for more than 7 hours a day, I would be the ideal candidate to answer the phone. I was forced to answer all the calls if the call spoke any kind of English. I would be the one answer the calls because my parents were afraid that the caller would take advantage of them not being able to speak English well. Most of the time I had to make up an excuse that “I” was busy. Most of the calls would go.

             “Hello is Mr Le there?”

             “I’m terribly busy, I can’t answer right”

             “When will you be available?”

             “Try again tomorrow at lunch”

After I would hang up the phone, and my parents would ask who called and what did they want. At times I would answer important business calls for my parents, because they wanted to make sure that there weren’t being fooled or conned. My dad would claim that the people who called were mostly asking for money for them or their organizations. The first time that I answered one the calls that was meant for my parents, I was nervous that I would mess up. What 8 or 9 year would answer a phone that could be a very important business. All I wanted to do was do my homework and play with my legos or watch TV. After the first call, I thought was all over, no more calls I would have to answer. Eventually when someone called I was always the one to pick it up, no matter how far I was or how close my parents were. Sometimes I would have to run across the house to pick up the phone, other times it would simply be next to me. I didn’t that I would have to answer a call from a complete stranger in my living room, pretending to be my own parents. What I wondered is that why would the callers push on and still call although. I have denied them so many times. The same thing would apply when we would go shopping; sometimes I had to ask for my parents how much this or that was because they could understand English that well or I had to say It for them because of this broken English. Although my English wasn’t like what it is now, I was able to speak clearly and everyone was able to understand me. Now I’m able to speak clearer and with better grammar. When I speak it doesn’t really show that I’m from Southwest Philadelphia because I don’t tend to use any slang when I speak.

When I was in the position of being my parents, I didn’t feel comfortable because I wasn’t doing something a kid would do at my age. I would have to impersonate my parents when somebody called. I think that influenced the way that I speak now. I think that by speaking properly at a young age, it influenced me to try speaking without any slang. Answering phone calls repeatedly I would have to speak with Standard English to sound like an adult. I couldn’t just speak the way I would if my friends, I would have to speak formally like if I were talking to a teacher or someone important. I think that made me changed the way I spoke even to my friends. Over time I noticed that I got more formal even with my friends and family. I did start getting less formal with my friends but got more formal when talking to adults or symbols of power. I think that when I became my parents when I was younger I was trained to talk in a formal way so that the caller could not recognize that I wasn’t my father.



Most of the time I would code switch between my friends, my parents, and other adults. I think that code switching is important because if were we to speak to adults like we do to our friend then it wouldn’t fit in. We couldn’t just talk to anyone with slang, if an important guess came to visit you would have to speak properly to show a good first impression. When we speak to our friends, we tend to be less formal then we do if we were talking to any adult. It’s important also when you talk to your parents and when you talk to teachers. You can’t just ask the teacher a personal question, like you would ask your parents. Like in “Mother Tongue” by Amy Tan, She talks differently when she’s near her mother or husband. When she’s around Americans, she uses sophisticated phrases Asking a stranger wouldn’t be normal, that’s why code switching is important. Code switching lets us to change our speech depending on where and who were talking to. Everyone code switches everyday, Husbands code switch when they’re near their wife and vice versa, Friends code switch when an adult is around. Everyone code switches at least once a day


Tan, Amy. Mother Tongue. National Council of teachers of english,


3


Language Autobiography

Introduction/Reflection

Language can give so many first impressions of a person. If a person speaks broken English, you automatically assume they don’t know much. If a person speaks with accents, you assume that they are not from the area. The tone of their language and how they use also affects the assumptions people put on the way you speak your language. The way I see it from my family experiences, “broken English” is basically a “simple” version of English.

            The way I showed my language in descriptive scenes was a large part of my autobiography. The dialogue really gave the reader what happened in the moment. The dialogue shows the embarrassment that happens when broken English is spoken in public. I really had a hard time figuring out what the broken English in my family meant, but as I started writing out my scenes I figured out that broken English is a simpler version. Overall, I learned that the broken English used in my family is basically a “simple” version of Standard English that your family and you use to understand each other.

FINAL

“Cháo”
“Hi”
Cái nay lam sao?” How do you work this? My cousin said in Vietnamese.
“You turn on the...” As I said those words, I remembered that my cousin couldn’t understand or speak English. I tried to think of Vietnamese words that will translate from what I wanted to say in English.
“You mo cai len” I said nervously.
“Huh?”

My cousin’s confused facial expression made me give up on trying to speak Vietnamese to him. I decided to show him through my actions. I took the remote and showed him where the power button was. I took his hand and pushed his finger down on the power button. The TV turned on, and then he realize how my TV and remote works. Vietnamese was my first language, and I would use it talking to my parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. After he left my house, I realized that my Vietnamese is not as good as it used to be.

I noticed that you start losing your language overtime, because you use it less and less everyday. Overtime I knew that speaking Vietnamese was going to be horrible, because of everyday English use. It’s like an exchange student from Puerto Rico coming to America. The student has no choice but to speak English in school. Once I went to school, that’s when my family started to use English to help me in school. My dad started speaking English regularly to me in the house, so everyday I speak less and less Vietnamese. I grew up with Vietnamese and English. Vietnamese was my main language, but as I was exposed to English. I started losing my Vietnamese tongue.

There are many versions of one language. Everyone grows up learning what language they speak by the peers around them. People get used to speaking their family’s native tongue, but when they are in public, the tone of the language, choice, and pronunciation of the words are different. People would speak the way their language is used in their home, but in public they speak Standard English.

Translating was very difficult for me when I was younger, and it still is. I’m not very good at speaking Vietnamese. Whenever you speak Vietnamese or any other language besides English, some letters are pronounced in a different way. For example, in English the letter “a” is pronounced “aye or ah”. In Vietnamese “a” is pronounced “ow”. Whenever I speak Vietnamese, I pronounce the words like they are in English, some of my family can understand, while others have no clue what I am saying. I was always better at understanding Vietnamese than speaking it. My grandpa would always ask how am I doing whenever I go to his house. I would always try to say “I’m good” in Vietnamese. My grandpa would say back to me “No understand”.

My family speaks a lot of broken English, therefore I grew up speaking broken English to my family. I get frustrated whenever my family can’t get their point across speaking broken English. I get annoyed when people ignore and act like they know what my family is saying. They just say “Okay” and nod their heads, but I can tell from their confused expressions that they have no idea what my family is saying. In my mind, I feel that people are judging my family, because they can’t speak proper English. It doesn’t mean that my family is ignorant; they just can’t find the right words to express their thoughts. The embarrassment is not really a big issue for me, but I feel sympathy towards my family. I feel the need to step in and say what my family can’t say.

On my way home from school, my dad decided to get some fast food for me. He stopped by McDonalds, and we both went in to see what they had on the menu. “Hello, what can I get you?” asked the cashier.

“Can I have numba won laaarge, with Coke?” my dad said.
“Can I get number two medium, with Coke?” I said.
“Okay, here’s your receipt. Your order will be with you in a sec.”
As we got our order, my dad wanted some barbeque sauce. He went back to the cashier and asked her for some sauce. “Can I have baabeque saut?”
“Excuse me?” The cashier looked at my dad like he was crazy.
“Can I have baabeque saut?”
“He said he wanted some barbecue sauce” I said strongly and annoyed.
“Dad, come on. Let’s go.”
“Okay Kenny. Why you rush?”

I felt embarrassed for my dad. The look that strangers give my dad because of the way he speaks makes me angry. I became frustrated at my dad, but I hid the frustration. I feel this way, because I don’t want anyone thinking my dad is stupid. People are always making assumptions about how bad people are speaking their second language. I know my dad speaks in broken English, and he tries his best to pronounce the words right. When he speaks in the public and can’t get his point across, I get frustrated and annoyed. I get embarrassed about the way he talks English to strangers. I try not to show him that I’m annoyed, because he can’t help but to talk broken English. At home it doesn’t really matter how my dad speaks because I don’t pay any attention at how he speaks. I understand his broken English, but others do not.

“The English I spoke with my mother, which for a lack of a better term might be described as “simple”; the English she used with me, which for a lack of a better term might be described as “broken”. - Amy Tan

The way I use English to speak with my dad could be called “simple”. To me, I realized it’s more of a “short-cut” than “simple”. I would shorten the usage words in my sentences. The English my dad uses to speak with me is “broken”. My dad asks me “I go to store. What you want from store?” Instead of saying “Can you go to the store and buy me milk?” I would just say, “Buy milk from store”. The English I use to speak with my dad could really be called “simple”, because it’s not how I talk in public. It’s just how I talk in my family, so that they can understand me.

Language Autobiography


Intro: 
The language autobiography project was to show ways that language make use who we are. And show how it affects the way we act. And being there is a large verity of different was that people find ways to express them selfs in language that its a great way to see who they are. For me the hardest part of this project was just thinking about what to write about. Then Mr.Block say "I am really looking forward to reading your paper. I think that with your dyslexia it will be really interesting." I never thought to do that. But after that, writing the scenes was really easy and fun. 

Paper:
In the world we live in there are only a few ways of expressing yourself. You can talk, sing, dance, or be a writer. I can’t sing, or dance. And even though I like writing, expressing myself verbally is the best thing for me to do. The English language is like a damn to me. It blocks off all the beautiful and elegant words I want to say and twist them into a word search.
When I was in the fourth grade I was given an IEP. And I didn’t know anyone who had that. They’re where other kids who where in this “group” of “different learners”, but they where not that brightest sun in the galaxy. So why did I need one of these you ask. Well I will tell you. I am dyslexic. Dyslexia is a learning disability that makes you mix up letters and numbers.  Like a b for a d, or an m for an n. It’s really not that bad when you get use to it. However English language doesn't help, because of its nonsense spelling.  
I don’t really remember the first day that I want to my IEP, but do remember some of my first thoughts. “Byshera, can you come here please.” Said a tall white woman in the doorway of my forth grade class. I got up form my seat in the room and walked into the hall. “Y-yeah yes” I said. I hated talking to people that I didn’t know. And the bright pink shirt and the dirty blond hair were intimidating. “Hi, I am Ms._____, and I am going to talk to you for a little of.” She said with a coffee stand smile. “Why, did I do something?” I had never felt so dumb. Why was this woman talking to me like I was three? What did she want to talk about? She continued thought with out a care of my tone. “No, I just want to talk about the way you read.” her smile was stuck on her face.
I didn't really understand I read the same way everyone did, right? Form that day on I learned that the way my mind worked was thought to be wrong. And I didn’t know why that was. I know more words then other kids in my grade. And I know when you use them. So why was it that I had to be placed into a room and told over and over again what sound th made. I would like someone to tell me why there is a b in comb or two p’s in stopped. But now I sat in a chair and listened to the th sound.
        No matter all of the past IEP classes. Because know I know I don’t see words in my mind the same as every one else. But I see them better, stronger, more powerful, then anyone else ever could. My language really was nothing like any ones I know. And for that I was talked down to in a basic was. Because words where like a river in my mind. Moving, never slowing down, changing and growing. And my dyslexia was like a rock in the river. It was slowly getting broken down and changed.
Now most people are shocked when they find out that I have this rock. I think its because I was using words that they didn’t know. That makes me think of the time I was talking to my mom about football. My mom and dad where up early sitting in the living room. They where talking about the football game, as they always did on Mondays. “Yeah you know we could have won” said my dad disappointed in the Eagles. I don’t know why he gets his hopes up so high. They never win. “Yeah,” said my mom “I hope Vick will be ok to play next game.” I don’t know much about football but I don’t know about medicine. “Well, when someone is concussed they usually make them rest for a few weeks.” The strange look that she gave me was like something out of a horror flick. “What?” she said with a concerned tone. “what is concussed?” she said as if to make fun of the word. “To have a concussion.” I said. And as I walked out to the car all I could here was, “Have a good day, don’t get concussed.”  
     So a guess language to me is just being able to say what I know. And learn more and more ways to spell what I know. Because words are betieful and eligent. And no one will tell me that’s wrong even if you know there misspelled.