El País, 738 Grakyn Lane

 Vivo en Roxborough, una comunidad muy bonita. No hablo con muchas personas en mi barrio, pero tengo unos amigos quienes viven en Roxborough. La mayoría de las personas quienes viven en Roxborough son blancas. No hay muchas razas, y no me gusta eso, pienso que debe haber más razas. Quiero más diversidad en mi barrio. En Roxborough hay otros lugares, y vivo en Andorra. Se llama Andorra porque es como el país, hay muchos árboles, y parques. Mi casa está casi en un bosque, y me gusta esto mucho, así lo veo que es muy bonito, para mi que todas las comunidades deben tener un bosque. No quiero que mi comunidad cambie, porque me gusta tal como es ahora. Otras personas quieren más casas, pero pienso que debe ser como el país todavía. Muchas personas en Andorra son amables. No hay muchos murales en Andorra, pero la comunidad va a ser mejor cuando los tenga.

Mi mural ubicado en 738 Grakyn Lane, en la pared de un casa. La tema mayor de mi mural es el medio ambiente, y que el medio ambiente es muy importante para el mundo, y Andorra también. El medio ambiente es muy importante para Andorra porque Andorra se llama Andorra porque el país tiene un medio ambiente el mismo de Andorra, y cuando no tenemos muchos árboles, y flores, va a ver diferente como el país Andorra. Mi mural no cuenta la historia de Andorra, porque no es una historia muy interesante. Muchos de los imágenes en mi mural son verdes, este es porque muchas flores son verdes. Verde es el color que muchas personas piensan de cuando ellos escuchan la palabra medio ambiente. El propósito de mi mural es que las personas quienes ven el mural son que el medio ambiente es muy importante. Desde mi punto de vista,  Lo más importante es el medio ambiente, porque el mundo no vas a ser el mundo sin el medio ambiente mismo.

Así lo veo, el arte público no es necesario para la comunidad, pero es muy bonito, y la comunidad es mejor con el arte publico. El grafiti es arte público, pero es un delito. El grafiti pueden ser muy bello, y es bueno para la comunidad cuando es bello, o en un lugar bueno para la comunidad, cuando no es mal para unas personas. En mi opinión, mi mural es arte publico, porque es de una pared que es no muy importa, y la comunidad pueden ver que es importante a nosotros.  Mucho de el arte público está creadas por personas quienes son muy talentosos. Mi mural es arte, porque todas las cosas, como grafiti, y también el vandalismo son arte, y el papel de el arte público es para ser bonito. Así lo veo, que mi mural es bueno, pero puedo tener más de la diversidad, porque debe ser más diverso en Andorra. También debo tener más colores en mi mural, verde es bueno y representa el medio ambiente, pero más colores son buenos.

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Screen Shot 2012-01-12 at 7.04.37 PM
Screen Shot 2012-01-12 at 7.04.29 PM
Screen Shot 2012-01-12 at 7.04.29 PM

Mi Barrio, Mt Airy.

Taylor stover

January 10th 2011

Espanol 3

 

Mt. Airy, barrio es muy diversos. Hay muchas personas diferentes. Hay mucho familias, y todos son interesantes. La familia es muy grande en mi barrio, casi todo el mundo es agradable. La gente es muy de bienvenida, es por lo general tranquilo excepto en ave de Germantown. Durante los fines de semana, la gente va al ave Germantown para la diversion. Los restaurantes y las tiendas son grandes! Mucho de mi amigos vivir cerca de mi. Hay varias familias de todas las razas y muchas relaciones diferentes. Hay muchas formas de transporte y todo muy seguro. Hay muchas maneras de involucrase en Mt. Airy. La basura recoge, andar de perro, y ser bueno persona. Casas pueden ser muy largo y muy pequeno. Hay muchas cafes y resturantes. Escogi Mt. Airy por todas razones. No tenemos rico que hacer rico. Hay muchos lugares para comer, muchos opciones para los vegetarianos. La criminalidad es muy baja en Mt Airy. Todas personas es civilizada y saben como comportarse. Todas personas premite sus animals de correas y los gatos estan en todas partes fuera. Hay parques para los animals y a los ninos en Mt. Airy. En Mt. Airy los ninos se encuentran en la escuela, y el parque, los ninos son tranquilas. No hay nada perturbacion. Muchas balnearios y yoga y relajarse lugares. En Mt. Airy hay toda tipo de persona. Gay, rectos, blanco, negro, y la lista continua. Nadie los juzga sobre nada. Esta bein que usted mismo. Hay muchos homosexuals y transexuales en me barrio. Ellos son aceptados como lo deben ser no hay una persona los discrimen porque es no justo. Mi familia es biracial y sentimos suficiente. Mis vecinos son de Iraq, y son ejemplos como alguien puede vivir aca y sentir seguro. La gente puede caminar tarde por la noche y no tiene que preocuparse. Sugeririo esta barrio para las familias, es pecialmente con los ninos pequenos. En mi mural, representado la gente y idea de mi barrio. En Mt. Airy no hay graffiti o vandalismo, hay pintura mural y mucho arte. Todo es muy bonito y comfortables. 

Photo on 1-12-12 at 10.44 AM #2
Photo on 1-12-12 at 10.44 AM #2

Who I Am and What I Want

When you take a glance at my slide, you may see a couple of butterflies, flowers with a cool design, a purple back-round and my name in an aqua blue. We all that thats the only thing on my slide but theres more to it!
When you see my slide design the first thing you will notice is the color scheme. The main colors used are purple pink and blue. Those three colors are very appealing to they eye and are also my favorite colors. Presentation Zenk stated that the text should be as big as i wants. Theres never a limit. But I disagree because my name Chaveliz, would not catch the audiences attention if its written across the entire slide. The slide also contains a lot of repetition. Not by word but image. I have a many butterflies because it brings peace in every single country. There is a lot of bleeding. All of the images on the corners are cut off because it catches the audiences eye. They would wonder where the images are coming from and/or going to. Remember to pick the leaset colors as posible. Not to light or bright because then you won't catch the audiences attention. Have fun designing your next presentation because you will be surprised with your outcome.
Redo for tech
Redo for tech

~~Enfrentar Lo Qué Es La Realidad~~ Localizado En: La calle Howard en la dirección norte y la calle Cambria en la dirección oeste.

  Saludos! Mi nombre es Arianny Valdez y tengo catorce años. Para mi, el arte público me facina porque es muy creativo y expresivo. Personalmente, a mí me gusta formar collages de arte a mano es algo muy divertido.Por otro lado, mí mural se llama “Enfrentar Lo Què Es La Realidad”. Mí mural está ubicado en ambos calles.La calle Howard en la dirección norte y la calle Cambria en la dirección oeste. Ademas, en frente de el mural mío hay una bodega y tambièn un restaurante chino pero al lado derecho de mí mural hay una escuela llamada Issac A Sheppard que fue construida en el año 1897. La comunidad mía no es tan grande. En total hay 33 edificios incluyendo la bodega,el restaurante,y la escuela. La populaciòn es aproximadamente de 95 personas. Los grupos què viven en esta comunidad son Dominicanos y Puerrtoriqueños. La sensaciòn de esta comuniad es muy negativa. El delito y vandolismo de propiedades privadas es lo que destruye este barrio.

Los diferentes elementos en el mural mío representan muchas cosas importantes y adémas complèjo.Por ejemplo hay varios temas y algunos significan la educación,el crimen,la población y finalmente la culturas como los Dominicanos y los Puerrtoriqueños. Como lo mencióne en la oración arriba lo voy a explicar ahora también pero en una cantidad de gran profundidad. En mí perpesctivo lo mas importante en mí mural y de mí communidad es la educación.La educación  significa en mí comunidad casi todo.Los niños pobres y ricos reciben una educación en escuelas publicas pero los menos afortunados asen cosas ilegales como vender drogas para darle esta opportunidad a sus propios hijos.Los colores son brillantes y vivos pero algunos son opacos y oscuros para representar el humor, la felizidad y el sufrimiento.Hay varios temas en que quiero enseñar desde este mural pero el mas principal es como las cosas de nuestras vidas diarias es en realmente enfrentar la realidad cada día más. El mensanje que quiero comunicar es que la verdad duele por que sólo esta hecho por errores que cometemos pero en verdad al fin del día uno se da cuenta de que es todo la REALIDAD.

 Como yo lo veo, el papel del arte público es eliminar lo feroz eventos de una comunidad para de nuevo reunirse con el mensaje que esta demonstrado por esta arte con el uso de fotos y frases. Sin embargo, mí mural si hace el exito de el papel porque yo misma coji los ejemplos de los murales que vi en el paseo para relacionarlos con mi propia comunidad y estos ejemplos también fueron el comienzo de mi mural “Enfrentar Lo Qué Es La Realidad”. Claro, mí mural si es arte aunque esta localizado en un lugar público porque es algo hermoso y con sentido en vez de estar hecho inadecuadamnete ilegal como las marcas. Mí opinión de mí mural es sorprendida, yo no sabía de lo qué era possible con mucha información histórica de lo qué en realmente es la arte. Despues, me di cuenta que si es totalmente posible formar una obra maestra muy especial y uniqa. Finalmente, estaba muy alegre en las etapas que coji cuando comense y termine esta obra maestra. 

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Photo on 1-12-12 at 4.32 PM
MI PARED PARA MI MURAL
MI PARED PARA MI MURAL

Language Autobiography - Ahinson

​Introduction-

The purpose of this project was to reveal the connection between language and identity. In our unit we talked about how language is used in various ways with different people such as family, friends, and strangers. We connected the concept to our personal lives. In my paper i discussed how language has effected how I see people. Things like accents and pronunciation of words. I also talked about other concepts like code-switching, changing how you talk while around different people. Code-switching is my most commonly used language concept. 


Language Autobiography-

“Language is a central feature of human identity.”-Kari Gibson of University of Hawaii. Language has played a very important role in my life. I have moved a lot in my childhood at a young age. In my elementary school life I attended 4 schools in 5 years in 3 states. At an essential time for my character development. While moving I’ve heard various very unique accents and slang. Each and every single accent, slang word, and language has contributed to my life in a different way. While living in Savannah, Georgia I got more than a taste of every one’s thick accents.

I believe that language can change people’s thoughts of you. Like how when I hear a southern accent I tend to take offense to what ever they say to me. There was a time when I had adopted a few words from the south. I was in the 4th grade in a southern Georgia elementary English class. Ironically the teacher had the most proper pronunciations I have ever heard, even until this day. My English pronunciations were the best in the class, but never the less still only meeting the standards for good English in that town. Standards that were below hers.

It was a Monday morning and the teacher was becoming very frustrated with the class’ skills. We were downgraded to counting to ten. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, ate, nine, ten” the class repeated adding emphasis on every E, O and I. I was doing pretty good until it came to “four”. “One, two, three, foe”. I was slipping up & the teacher noticed immediately. “Mr. Moore!” she yelled. “One two three four, four!” she tried to correct me but it was too late. I lost control of part of my tongue to southern slang and there was no going back. When I returned to Philly I could always see a person’s disgust hang from their face when I passed that number.

It showed me that an out of place accent singles someone out. People very often complemented me on my good grammar & when they heard “foe” I could see in their face how they regret past complements. Being that I only had slight slang from the area, I often wondered how people from the south are viewed and judged when they go to other parts of the country with an accent. I believe people do the same thing with race. For example, if you lived in a world were one race discriminated against yours you would most likely grow to not like that race. But if that race was always nice then you would like them. If someone with a certain accent has left a good impression on you you expect people also with that accent to also be kind & nice.

That tells us about how language cant effect identity. I’ve had person experiences with that. When attending my elementary school filled with kids that used bad grammar and slang most of the time I was sometimes shunned for speaking properly and with correct grammar. But in interviews when people heard me talk some would say things like “I bet everyone in your school is such a scholar like you!” I would nod. But the reality was that the school made me shy especially when presenting, when I had to be proper. It was like the girl in “Tongue Tied” how she was always told to speak up from being quiet. I can relate to her quote “What did you say?’ or ‘Speak up’ so I would have to preform again, only weaker the second time.” on page 165. That was a common dilemma in my early school life.

One of the best abilities you can have in this world is to be able to adapt, alter, and control how you say your words. In class we talked about this same concept. “Code-switching” changing the ways you talk for different people. Most people do it between elders and their peers. I am able to do it with individual people. There is a significant difference in the way I talk on one friend as opposed to another. Also the same with adults I am becoming better at this. I could talk to my friends saying things like “Wassup bro, whats poppin’” and have the intellectual capacity to hold a interesting discussion with my teacher, or write an essay.

Video Here

Language gives you power, now shut up, you're saying it wrong.

Over the years, I’ve been told, and I’ve experienced myself, how language gives you power. What you say and how you present yourself while saying it can make an immediate impression on the people your talking to. But what not many people realize is, that while language can give you power, it can also take it away.

I never really thought about the way I spoke. I always just assumed that I sounded normal, nothing out of the ordinary, and definitely not too far off from everybody else. My friends in grade school never mentioned anything about my way of speaking, and neither did my family. Everything went on as usual, until I began going to Summer Camp. People that went there were from all over the place. Everyone talked a bit differently. As we were all introducing ourselves one boy asked where I was from

“Oh, I’m from Philadelphia.” I said, assuming he was just wondering which region I was from.

“Really? I didn’t think people from there had any accents.”

“…What?” I thought it was odd, I didn’t have an accent. “I don’t have an accent.” I defended myself, but he wasn’t trying to insult me, so he just laughed,

“Yeah, you do. It’s cute.” Of course, I just thanked him, but it lead me to think about other things. I began noticing the way other’s talked more, and the way I talked. I now heard and recognized which words I may be pronouncing differently, I don’t know why I did it; it was just how I’d always talked. Throughout my time there, people had kept on mentioning it, I’d gotten used to it and just responded with a simple ‘I don’t actually know why I have an accent. I guess I just do.’

            As time went on, I began to notice it more, I noticed when I did it and what it sounded like. I realized I had an accent when I got angry or upset, and I realized when I tried to hide it. Accents, and just language in general can have a big affect on a person and those surrounding them. The way I speak and present myself entirely depends on who I’m with and where I am. When I’m with my family, I’m loud and less cautious of how I sound, but more cautious of what I say, and what terms I use. Around my friends, I’m more cautious of keeping my accent reigned in and less about what I say.  I think the cause of this is, while I can still be myself around my friends, I know I don’t have to impress my family, or try to gain their approval with anything. This lead me to realize the fact that my persona when I’m alone and my persona in public are so different. When I’m alone, or with close friends, I tend to be louder and less reserved. I tend to share my opinions more because I know that they will more or less not judge me on it. When I’m in public, or in a place where my opinions and what I say may be disregarded or I may be judged on what I say, I definitely take more time to think about what I have to say and make sure I sound smart when I say it.

 Now, sounding ‘smart’ to me meant enunciating my words, regardless of the accent, and making sure I know exactly what I’m saying before I say it. In society, a generally accepted idea is that having a voice gives you power. Speaking out and making yourself heard and having your opinions recognized are all things that gives you power. But I think something that isn’t often recognized is that a voice can also take away a lot of the power that you have. If someone deems the way that you speak to be ‘wrong’ it makes you insecure about the way you speak. I have been told that the way I pronounce some words are wrong, which ultimately leads to me trying to change the way I speak, or just not speak at all. I don’t want to be told that something I’ve been doing all my life is all of a sudden wrong and that I should change it, it knocks down my confidence and takes away any power that I had before.

There are many key roles in the way that we speak, one of them being the company we keep, and one of the others being our history. We don’t necessarily have to be from a certain place to pick up an accent, or a saying, or other ways of speaking from that region. My grandparents are Italian, and although even my grandmother doesn’t fully speak Italian, there are some words and phrases that she uses. From being around them so much, I’ve picked up some ways of speaking from her, such as the way I use an accent when pronouncing Italian foods. When we were kids, my grandma would pinch me and my sister’s faces and say

“Look at the faccia” ‘faccia’ being the Italian word for face. Throughout time, I began picking it up and found myself saying the same thing with my little cousins, that along with ‘bambino’ the word for ‘baby.’

            Although I’ve picked these things up and using them has become sort of involuntary, I’ve had to stop saying them in the company of people who don’t exactly know my background. People have asked me if I spoke Italian, which I don’t, and when I tell them that, they accuse me of faking it. This reminds me of a the writing “ If Black English, Isn’t a language, Then Tell Me, What Is?” In this story, they're arguing whether something is or isn't a language. They say that some people take speaking "black english" as just being wrong. But I don't think there is one right or wrong way to speak, and nobody has the right to take anybody else's speech away.

            I have seen this problem with many people, not just myself. The way that they speak is criticized to the point that they have to change everything about it. Something that once gave them power, is now a burden.             

Language Essay

Kyler Jones                                

 I’m drafting an essay for english class when my teacher comes over and gives it a read. It’s supposed to be about my feelings about language and how it relates to me and society. But I end up writting a 2000 word manifesto about society, capitalism, imperialism, and the english language. And what language is and how it changes the World and defines cultures.

“ This is too much, this is a manifesto” says Ms. Pamohov.

 I was honestly surprised at myself, I knew that I went too far, but I didn’t expect it to go so far out of the topic. How did I turn an autobiography into a complete historical dissection of society?

 

Read anything by me one can’t not hear the terms “civilization” “patriarchy” “society”“objectification” “imperialism”“slavery” “myth” “Economics” “religion” “science” “hypersimplification”“Leftism” “capitalism” “poverty” “conquest”“rape” “nature”“zombies” “disease” “cosmetic”  “superficial” “hierarchy” “indigenous” “lies” “land” and “industrial”.

 

My language is how I perceive the world, and how I see through the chains and insanity of our society. Everything I see, I attempt or sometimes involuntarily see how it relates to the centralized purposes of distant powers. It all started as soon as I entered highschool. I just started to question everything and see the truth.

 

When my teacher said language the first thing I could think about was how different types of languages actually alter perceptions of reality, I thought about the Nords taking over Britain and giving the English language swear words, and I just couldn’t help thinking cultural white-washing, and the stupidity of relationships built on pretence.

 

Now I think about how seriously far attached I am from my peers, and the majority of this society. Most people don’t even truly understand what “civilization” or “science” is. They don’t give a damn about “nature” or “overshoot”. I often get laughter and smirks whenever I read things I journal in history class. I’m not sure if it’s either jealousy, malaise, or misunderstanding. Am I really that alien?

 

That’s why I rarely talk outside of class, no one to talk to, nothing to talk about to them that won’t leave me saying something that sparks controversy and arguments. Rarely can I go about daily activities without comments or the input of other people, guess it just makes them uncomfortable that they can be wrong and I can be right.

I can’t help to see the reality of traditions fully based on cloth. It would be pointless for me to waste my time trying to censor and numb my thoughts because of what is passively accepted and upheld in the mainstream.

 

My pier’s vocabulary only ranges from “Homework!”, to “Hipster”, to “OMG!”.  They may talk of every flavor of Snoop Dogg blasts, but they would never talk about how many salmon are sacrificed in the manufacturing of those disgusting beverages, like me.

 They’ll talk about how awesome it is to get baked, I talk about how sad it is that marijuana is the only plant people think is worth saving. They say “iphone 4”, I say technology is not neutral. They say Obama to sound political, but I’ll talk about how he is just another capitalist warhead.

  I’m not sure of whatever power that entitles me, or If I honestly gain anything from accept constant depression when I look humans.

“It goes without saying, then, that language is also a political instrument, means, and proof of power. It is the vivid and crucial key to identify: It reveals the private identity, and connects one with, or divorces one from, the larger, public, or communal identity” In this quote from James Baldwin’s “ If Black English, Isn’t a language, Then Tell Me, What Is?”, I definitely don’t agree the “Black English” is language, but just a variant of English, and I don’t think that language is the crucial key to identity- it is agreeable that language is most definitely a political instrument for me, separating me from public and or common thought and opinion.

 

I worry about language not on a basis such as what judgments people are going to try to make about me, being that I’m black, or how I was raised, or if I’m a know-it-all. As a political instrument I want to utilize it to the best of my abilities so it can be understood by anyone regardless of how well they know the English language, and I want my words to communicate every passionate rage, every fact, and reality to inspire the cynic and nihilist into actions. To cure the hedonists from his/her naïve ways, and to devastate the perpetually blissful. If I intend to.

 

Stop.Switch.Articulate

Sup.” I said.

“Tired.” my friend replied with a yawn.

“What Class we got first.” I asked.

“Spanish.” he replied.

“We mine as well get up dere now.” I said.

“Mine as well its already 8 o’clock.”

This is an example of my normal dialogue when I just get into the school building and greet my friends. I talk like this because it is a relaxing and much way easier to speak. Also, its something I have become accustomed to because this is how most of my peers and I communicate on a daily basis. Mostly because to us its such a easy and leisurely   way of speaking to one another. Though we are educated enough to realize that this is not the grammatically correct way of communication in qworking field or  profession. This is why during situations in school or the workplace I code switch. I switch my dialogue so the listener will pay attention to the information I am trying to tell.

For example, if I was to have a interview for a job I would not go in the employers office saying “Wats up I’m here for dat job interview jawn.”. Instead I would walk into the office and say “Hello I am Robert Jenkins I’m here for my job interview.”. As you can see this is a huge difference between the way I greeted my friend  at the beginning of a school day, and how I speak to people of higher authority. The reasons for making this change is so that the employer does not look at me as something that I am  not or to fit in with the kind of workers already with the establishment. For example I could be one of the best people for the job just as James Baldwin said in If Black English Isn’t A Language, Then Tell me What Is?  “To open your mouth is to put your business in the streets” and this could cause people to have the wrong opinion of me. They could believe I am a poorly educated young man and is not truly serious about this job or my future. Even though this is completely untrue I could not blame the employer for coming up with that assumption because what else would that kind of speech apply. This the kind of Code Switch that I have to make for many different occasion through out life.

Another reason I might code switch  is because I am uncomfortable with the people who are surrounding. Most of the time I use this kind of switch when I am going to new school, Church, or any other place that I am unfamiliar with. I remember the time I was in a similar situation when I was shadowing at SLA.

 “Wassup”  “Hi” I replied, “You ready for the day.”, “Yes I guess.” I replied. My Conversations with my Student Tour Guide went on like this for most of the day until I got use to the school a little and him. Once I was able to develop this relaxed relationship with my surroundings I was able to switch back to my usual sense of dialect.

A time where I mistakenly for got to code switch was when I was talking to my mom about the cost about of some Watch The Throne Concert Tickets. “How much are for good tickets.”, I said. “The Best Price and Seats I could find was 200.” “Are you serious!” I replied. “Very.” “Damn it” I said. Completely forgetting that I was having this conversation with my mom and not one of my friends in school, but luckily she really catch what I said so I was able to get out of it with ease. This is a situation where using the wrong dialogue could of got extremely ugly.

I change my way of speaking for many different occasion but they each are similar in the reasoning behide it. I do each change to try to either fit or to not be judge by others. I do not  do it in the sense of being fake to new people and make them believe that I’m not because I truly am ok with my own personality, but the comfort of not being judged is always a plus. But Code-Switching is not something that I just personally have to do but everyone in the world might have to change their dialogue at some point in time.

 

What my Grandma thinks.


My Grandma’s opinion

 “BESTFRIEND <3.!”

“Hay <3.”

“Wcd.?”

“Nuthn, HW bord listenin to music. hbu?”

“Same, hmewrk listenin to music. I aint see yu all day. Wht happened to us chilln aftr skool.?”

“O, ma badd I had 2 go hme. My ma got mad @ me for smethn dumb.”

“Well, yu need 2 stp makn her madd, u always doin tht.”

I’m in my room lying on my bed, messaging my best friend Jermel on iChat. The conversation goes on and on. Simple texts talk with a friend in my eyes but in my Grandmother’s eyes it is childish teen talk. She does not get the point of it and does not understand it. She looks down on people who talk and or write improperly. She thinks of them as lazy beings because they abbreviate their words or chose not to say them fully. What also grind her gears extremely is when people use extra punctuations, no punctuations at all, and the incorrect punctuations in their sentences.  

“Hello baby.”

“Hay gmom, hw was ur day.?”

“What Yanna, what is hw? And I wish you spell your words correctly you smart you don’t have to talk like that sweetie.”

“Sry gmom.! I mean Sorry Grandma.”

She thinks that if you text or talk like that to your friends and others, then you will not go anywhere in life. Also, that if you talk and write that way daily then it will become a habit, and you will not be able to change that. “Childish teen talk” drives her crazy, she despises the fact that it is made and used by young people. She thinks that people who use slang, or who does not know how to speak properly when they are capable to speak or write correctly are hoodlums, up to no good, and they have no priorities in life.

This reminds me of the story "A Women Warrior" by Maxine Hong Kingston when she says, “I like the Negro students (Blacks Ghosts) best because they laughed the loudest and talked to me as if I were a daring talker too.” I interpret this, as the character in this story likes the black students most because they are loud and talk a lot. Which is a stereotype for most African Americans. This is related to my grandmother’s situation because they both make judgments on a person because of the way they present themselves.

Their opinions could be, and are proven to be false. Someone might have been raised that way and may not know another way to behave or how to say a certain word, as they should. You could be the greatest person in the world with a perfect behavior and have the worse grammar and spelling. Their theories both tie back to the quote you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover; it’s the inside that counts. 

Welcome to the Jungle

 Nuri Bracey
1/11/11
Final Draft

                   Welcome to the Jungle

I remember it like it was yesterday.

"Wait, what you say?"

"I said I live right up the steet"

"You can't say your r's ? Hahaha"

            I couldn't tell whether they were laughing with me, or just laughing at me. It was easier to laugh it off then to try and decode the situation. A small little space in my head realized that they were laughing at the dialect I was using, but I was too busy laughing at their so-called "language". I mean, who says "jawn"? That was bad enough. Instant superiority was established in my head when I heard my first taste of this alien language. Whenever someone spoke, I couldn't help but crack a little smile or start chuckling. Stares were always directed my way, which I accepted. Then one day, reality hit.

"Why you laughing at everybody?"

"Because, no one here can talk properly."

"But, you're the one that talks like a dumbass, not us."

            The whole lunch talble erupted in laughter. The realization came crashing like a high-speed bullet train. I was the minority, not by my skin, but by my tongue. At that time, the only thing that made me different was tied in to a cowering knot in front of a crowd of pre-pubescent children. Two hours and about twelve more laughing fits from the kids and I was home, walking into. The kitchen of the two-floor Yeadon house. Steam arose from the stainless steel pots. Not even the smell of oven baked Mac and Cheese or brocolli and cheese could heighten my mood. 

             "Hey mom, why didn't you tell me people talked different? I've been getting laughed at all day." I sat down as she slid me a plate of food. I looked down at it and stopped resisting the temptation.

              "Honey we all don't talk the same, that's only because we were raised in different places."

               "You were born in New York too, why don't you talk the same as me?"

                "Because I lived in Philly before child."

              I went to sleep with a new realization that night. I talk differently to them because of where I was raised. Going back to school the next day should have been easier, but of course, it wasn't. The jeering hadn't died, but escalated. Kids gathered from East, West, North and South of the recess yard to hear the boy with the odd voice. They demandad entertainment in the form of foerign language, but I was way too prideful to bend to their will. Even the teachers that were on supervising duty worked their way in to the peculiar crowd to see what the ruckus was. I wonder what their thoughts were when they caught their first glimpse of the little boy sitting on concrete with the blankest face, staring at at least 20 people. What was I supposed to do? Hell, I was on the verge of crying. The whole scene was kind of overwhelming to a 60 pound, 2nd grade boy. I started feeling like Gloria Anzaldua in "From Borderline". In her story she said, "I grew up feeling ambivalent..." I didn't know whether I should accept my dialect in its own form of uniqueness, or seek help in making it blend in with the others. I pondered it everyday I walked into Ms.Johnson's class at Aldan Elementary School. That was only one of the things I had to think about over the course of my days. Besides giving up my dialect, I kept asking myself one question. How could kids my age be so inconsiderate? It's enough to laugh at someone once, but to do it repeatedly? It didn't really faze me though; I wasn't really an emotional kid. Weeks went by, yet I was still pondering. I was sitting at my table doing the "Grindin-Clipse" beat with my knuckles, when the teacher asked a question$

              "Class, who can tell me the product of 2x2?

I didn't know when my response reflex got that fast, but I quickly shot my hand up and shouted "4!"

"Correct Nuri, 4 is the right answer."

I slumped back a little and awaited the laughter. To my surprise, none came. My friend Patrick walked over to me after class about it.

             "I see you lost your accent" he said.

             "What are you talking about?"

             "You didn't know? Your accent is gone!"

I smiled widely on the outsidel, but I was rather ambiguous on the inside. I was happy because I knew that the reign of jokes was finally ending, but it felt like a part of me died. I mean, I was that language. We interwined, then nature came along and forced me to adapt to my new enviornment, like all mammals. That dialect was apart of my identity, as much as Jay-Z's grunts are to him, or Good Charlotte's lack of musical creativity is to them. My identity received a negative blow to it. I transformed from the laughing stick to another ordinary Yeadon kid with the change of a language. Whoever said language didn't make you different was, and still is, a liar.

History is Determined by Language

 

            “Are you from New York?”

            “No. I was born here in Philly. Why would I be from New York?”

“It sounds like you have a New York accent.”

            “No, I don’t. How could I have a New York accent?”

            “You just do.”

            This happened in school. Here in SLA. A few of my friends and I were playing games on our computers, typical. Then he says that. I would have never expected someone to say that I’m not from Philly just because of my accent. I was thinking this question after I left the conversation, “How would he know what a New York accent sounded?” On my latest trip to New York, I was thinking this. I couldn’t dilate any voice to see if it sounded like mine. I also found out that New Yorkers were pretty damn arrogant.

            So, let’s get back on topic. Now I think this is a huge regret I feel and maybe my Dad as well. If only I could fluent Spanish like my Dad, but unfortunately, I can’t. It was probably my Dad’s and my greatest mistake in life. He wanted his son to speak Spanish like him, and I wanted to speak to him in perfectly, fluent Spanish like Dad, yet I cannot say a phrase in Spanish with confidence. I want to say what I’ve learned in Spanish class, but I’m always worried I may say the wrong thing. I am thinking right now how some people say I’m Italian. If only I could speak Spanish, prove them wrong. They would be scratching their heads, saying, “What did you just say?” I would say, “I just said ‘I am not Italian. I’m Puerto Rican’ in ‘Español’ or Spanish to you guys.” I just wish I could be a bilingual, speaking English and Spanish, but I think it’s too late to be that.

Here’s something I can think about my dialect. Does my dialect intersect with my identity? Yes and No. Now I said yes because there are times when people question my dialect. There are questions or comments like the example I have on the top of the first page, or there can ask…

“Why does your accent sound like that?”

“You sound stupid!”

“Well, I was born with accent like this, and I am damn mighty proud of it.” No, I don’t say that line, but that’s what I think about. Now it gets a little sentimental. When I was going through a bit of depression through one of my summer break, (7th grade I believe), I thought the bad things that was said to me through my current 8 years at my old school, and I would think I sounded stupid. The way I spoke, probably made some of my “classmates” lose respect for me (that is if they had any respect in the first place.) I said no because since that “New York” accent questioning, I have not been made fun of my accent or commented on my accent for a while. I can’t remember the last thing that someone said to me about my accent in a negative way. Probably 7th was the last time I heard something about my accent. In 8th, it was about personality, but that’s different story.

            Now this maybe interesting. When my current 10th grade teacher taught us about a relationship between language and power, I thought there was no relationship at all, but once we got into the discussion, I had second thoughts. Yeah, that was kind of obvious. Any whom, there was a good point when you would have a president who would speak formally than informally. For example, if Barack Obama spoke like, “Yo, what’s up, my fellow Americans,” than, “Good evening, my fellow Americans,” you would have thought twice to elect him as president in the first place. The thing is… having a slang could mean power, just not a chance for presidency. It could mean it on the streets. Gangs and clubs would be on the street with slang, and they show their power with that kind of tone. Politically speaking, you must speak formally (and learn to keep their promises); they can be president people look up to. Kind to think of it, what would happen if we did have a slangy president, but he still did good job while in office?

            Now I must admit, I think I may have a different public persona than an internal persona. Why do I think this? Well, I tend to have stage fright, a bit of it any way. When I want to speak up, I feel the words come into my head, but once I try to get the words out, they just dissolve from my mind and I cannot explain the situation, even though I had the words to explain it. Those who read this probably know what I feel. My internal persona is something else. This would kind of relate to an essay I read in English just before I typed all this into this log. The essay was by Richard Rodriguez, and the essay was called, “Hunger of Memory.” A quote from the essay, “In public, my father and mother spoke a hesitant, accented, not always grammatical English…” That’s what I meant. When Richard’s parents spoke in public, they would be a little hesitant. That’s how I feel. You try to say it, but you stammer and sputter like a car that ran out of gas, and then you don’t make a noise after all that, and you are thinking

 

 

                       

The way I speak has nothing to do with who I am

 

Kilah Kemp           

Philadelphia, home to some of the rich and Famous and the young and struggling. It is like a mixing pot for Pennsylvania. 

Pittsburgh, known as the Steel city a place where everything has and is in its place. A quaint and quiet city not much of a moving city compared to Philadelphia. 

Although they are in the same state, the differences between them place them on opposite sides of the world.

The place where they meet is me.  I was born and for a short period of my life I was raised in Pittsburgh. But ever since I can remember I was here in Philadelphia  and grew accustom to it ;I have had a Philadelphia soul. I haven't forgotten my Pittsburgh roots and those roots show in me for the most part like they way I act, but Philly… Philly is my home and it shows all  in my speech. 

               "Hey boo"

               "Hey girly"

               " You are still coming downtown with me right?" 

               "Yeah, didn't I already say that?"

               "Alright, you didn't have to get smart" 

               " Haha, I was just playing"

You can also see my family roots when we're talking with each other.

               "You finna go to the store?"

               " Yeah I am you want something?"

               " I want a bag of chips and go' on and get some of den cookies that I like please"

               " Sure, will do daddy"

               " Oh and can you make sure that you go get den there uh cooking oils and my orange juice."

               "Anything else you would like daddy?"

               "Breafas sausages" 

               " Daddy can you please put the K back in Breakfast?  Truly dad that is all I ask."

               " Okay snobby Breakfast Sausages"

               "Thank you daddy I will be right back"

             My father, born and raised in Pittsburgh, had never been outside the 412 and he was proud of it. He always had this unique way of speaking. I was always a fan of grammar and the proper way of speaking, and I think that comes out when I write and I speak. My father's side took well to "modern day slang" and I didn't. I think that always separated my Brotherly Love and my Steel city. I think that the way that one side of my family speaks is entirely different from the other. 

My mother who was born and raised in North Philadelphia and was sharp as a tack made something out of herself even though she doesn't think so, she is the strongest and most proper woman I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She is the sole reason why I carry out grammar as strongly as I so. She makes it almost impossible for you not to speak proper English. I feel as though without my mother I would not correct everyone's speech every time I hear it. 

                 In the short essay “If Black English isn’t a language then what is it?” by James Baldwin he said  “People evolve a language in order to describe and control their circumstances”   I think that in a way that is where slang originates from and although I do love my grammar I do sometimes partake in speaking slang with my fellow peers. Taking control of an environment not only means that you are knowing where you are but where you come from. I think in the African American society “slang” or “Ebonics” is a way that we express ourselves with one another. It is a way for us to be and feel comfortable. The slaves found a way to cope with not being able to speak their own language and not fully learning the language of so called “pure white people” slang is that escape route. “Slang” is something  we can call ours. It doesn’t define African American but it does help control their circumstances.

            In the short essay “ Hunger of Memory” by Richard Ramerez he talked about how by a chance of geographical luck he was a Hispanic boy of working class wound in a Catholic school full of Senators children and he didn’t know English very well which was kind of a Burdon on him because nobody else knew what he was talking about. He said “What they understood was that I had to speak a public language” English is this language that is spoken everywhere and it is kind of  a language that us universal. When people in other countries think of  English they think of America “The Land of Opportunity” when English isn’t even the official language of America.  There is no public language every single person on the planet is different and sometimes the only way some of us can connect is through our language and that and it is commonly assumed that English is spoken everywhere since it is a dominate language. I am different from him but we both share a common factor and that is we both speak English. There is so much diversity that there really couldn’t be a public language.

Language is not a Barrier ~Jonathan Spencer

            I sent a text to my friend, one afternoon. I hadn’t talked to him in a while and wanted to know how things were. This is sort of how the conversation went.

            “Wazzup man, I aint seen u in a while. Hows life?”

            “Life is up and down. U know how life is. Mine could be better, nam saying?”

            “No,” I sent back.

            “Well thas 2 bad. U need 2 pay more attention 2 ppl since u cant understand no body.”

            “……,” Was what I replied.

            “Nam saying?”

            “Watev man.”

            “Imma tlk 2 u later. Dueces.”

            “Ard. Dueces.”

            I don’t understand how we became friends because he never wants to talk about what I want to talk about. That is because we have very different versions of the world we live in. It makes it difficult for us to talk about anything because we don’t have much in common. When people speak about different topics then it’s harder for them to communicate because they are talking about different things. A person who is familiar with a topic will find it easier to communicate with someone who is also familiar with that topic. When two people are unfamiliar with the topic, it could be language or interests; you will find it hard for you to communicate with each other. Now we all know that the way that conversation went are not how all conversations go. However, we do know that I am talking to someone about things of similarity and therefore have similar interest. It is my understanding that people who have similar interests and/or ideas can be able to communicate even if they are speak different languages.

When people are confused by what another person is saying it is because they either: 1) Don’t know the language. 2) Have different interest. Or 3) Have different opinions on these interests. If everyone was a “Common Joe,” as Mike Rose out it in page 3 of his essay titled “I just want to be Normal.” Then we could all communicate even if there was a language barrier. At the same time, Mike Rose must realize that if everyone were this “Common Joe” that then everyone would be a little less individualistic. People sometimes think that it has to do with race, like Richard Rodriguez did in “Hunger of Memory.” He said that, “An accident of geography sent me to a school where all my classmates were white…” and he made it seem as though he could not communicate with them and vice versa because of where they had come from. And yet, the story that I will tell you next completely contradicts that point.

There was a time when I visited Mexico and only knew how to say hi in Spanish and count to ten. There were some people who I started talking to because they had a soccer ball. I had kicked it back after it came to close to me. Then they asked me do I want to play in Spanish. I only knew one word. “fútbol.” So I walked over. It was five of them. Then I made a suggestion that we have a 3v3 game, but nothing happened. I was scared because they were unfamiliar to me, and I to them, therefore I wouldn’t be able to communicate with them. Then one boy said, “equipo” over and over again. Then I said, “tres and tres.” “¡Si!” he responded. He then pointed to three people and put them on one team and then pointed to himself, another guy and me and said equipo again. I instantly understood that equipo meant team and that I was on his. I said, “What is your name?” “Como” was his respond. Once again I thought that we were at a limit and didn’t think this game would go so well. Then he said, “Objectivo, aqui y aqui.” He placed a stick into the ground a then took another one and place it about 5 feet away from it. That was the goal post. I could tell because I knew the game and because they knew it as well. Our similar understanding of the game allowed us to communicate even thought we didn’t speak the same language. After he placed the second goals we started. There were no actual positions, we just kicked the ball around and tried to score. It was a lot of fun. The score was 6 to 6 and I had to leave soon. I said, “I go adios, soon.” and “¿Como?” was his response. Again I felt like there was a language barrier. It was really starting to become a nuisance. So I simply said, “Never mind.” I didn’t want to waste time trying to make them understand what I was trying to say when I had a limited amount of time left. We continued to play. Then one of my teammates yelled what I assumed to be timeout. We had a conference about how we were going to win. I have no idea what he was saying but I knew that he wanted me to kick the ball far to him on the opposite side of the field while the other person ran through the middle and distracted the other team. In short, we won the game because of that play and then when my Dad was calling for me to leave I yelled “Adios,” and they responded by saying “Good bye”

Language is a very complex thing. There is a lot more to it than the words that you use to communicate. The way you talk and what you talk about are more important than the actual language. If you talk in a way where you are constantly going off topic, then you will find it difficult to communicate with someone who stays focused on the task at hand and vice versa. Speech is a kind of understanding, like when you look at someone and know what they are think. Sure, language is a barrier, but in cannot always stop someone from conversing with another being. But the kind of thing that I am trying to describe is not something that can be written down. It’s a kind of understanding. Do not let your language keep you from making a bond with someone else just because you cannot speak the same language. When you act natural and act your self you will do just fine. Once this occurs you will never have to worry about language again.

The Switch

I have a secret that’s easy to figure out, no it’s not money or anything you can touch but maybe this will help you figure it out. Every day the sunlight creeps in through my window shining almost directly on me. I manage to stay asleep that is until my cat comes in my room meowing and scratching on anything he can. I wake up and say

“Lester what you doin’ to bed, you crazy cat.”

He looks and says “MEOW.”

I giggled because it was the kind of a response you would expect from a cat. The look in his face says “hungry” at least until I start to put on my belt then he tries to play with the loose end. I get out of bed and see my sister and she says “Hi Jovan”

“Hey Nadya” I say

I see my mom and say,

“Good morning mom”

I get to school and say “Sup” to all my friends, or I might use a playful English accent and say “top o’ the mornin to ya,” but that’s just for fun. Did you guess what the secret was? If you said that I talk to my cat you are wrong, but I bet you do what I do too. I code switch I have multiple ways of speaking. A lot of people do. I code switch because my default speech pattern is a little unacceptable for professional conversations and a little too proper for a friendly talks without being judged.

 

I go through my day with many ways of speaking. They change depending on whom I’m talking to. I find it is useful if you know how to talk to certain people. I talk like your average African American with less slang in my speech, don’t know why maybe because I was raised that way. I say things like, “Sup,” and, “Ain’t” in my regular speech but you wont hear me talk like that at a job interview. Instead of, “Sup boss” you would hear, “Good morning Mr./Ms. (whatever their name is)” I know how to change my speech and it helps me fit into a new place. Through elementary and middle school I had to talk proper because I was in a “learning environment that encourages proper speech and literacy,” I already had those from preschool so those were no challenges for me. Once high school came into play it was a different environment. People weren’t in uniforms, and you hear a mix of languages and forms of speech all around you. I spoke proper for a while but somehow my speech changed and now when I give a greeting to a friend you hear, “Sup” instead of “Hi.”

Since then my language has been the same, but I can change it with a simple thought. My code switching is a major benefit for me. With my code switching I can do a lot of things that I like to do. You’d be amazed at what proper speech can do for you but don’t code switch so much that you lose your original speech. To quote Mike Rose’s I Just Wanna Be Average “Rely on your own good sense.” What this means to me is that code switching doesn’t require knowing another language, or keep using the same form of speech for a long time it just means know when to switch how you speak you can always switch back after. I like code switching its fun. And honestly I don’t even need to think when I do it. I know how to talk to certain people so I instinctively change the way I speak to show my respect to other people. I’ve done this for so long that in a sense I am a multilingual person because I talk in different ways to different people.

 

Code switching doesn’t take long to master. All you need to do is have common sense. Understanding when to speak properly is the most important part of code switching. You also don’t need to change your voice when you do. Mastering this skill is really easy and only takes about 2-3 days, so you can get used to it. It works because when we learn to talk we learn proper English, so over time as our language changes we will know the proper language and we can willingly revert back to it whenever we want. As stated before you don’t have to keep talking in another way; you can change right back and it will be fine. I do it all the time. After some time of reaffixing yourself with proper speech code switching is a breeze. That is my secret to getting things I want, along with the work that I do. But if you knew me you would have already known that. And with that I say “See Ya”

Changing myself just for others? Why? Why not? - Niyala Brownlee

Changing just for others?

Niyala Brownlee

 

            “Hi my names Niyala. Nice to meet you!” That was me introducing my self to my classmates at West Philadelphia High School. I made my voice sound light and airy with a loose smile to make myself seem friendly. Though apparently friendly is not what these people are used to.

            I had gotten many scoffs in return. Some replies of,

“Suck up.”

“Teachers pet.”

And the occasional,

“ Who does she think she is?”

Finally someone chose to utter a complete sentence.

“Where are you from?”

That’s a normal ‘get to know you’ question and all, but of course they choose to add the  “ You don’t sound like your from around here” at the end of the sentence. There were and few more murmurs then I had had gotten the chance to respond.

“What do you mean? Of course I am from West Philadelphia.”

            That type of conversation, including the question ‘Where are you from?’ always had the tendency to pop up during my time spent at West Philadelphia High. At first I had thought that people just wanted to know more about me, though as it turns out, they just wanted to know where my way of speech came from. Soon it had gotten irritating. No matter how many times I had replied with West Philadelphia they would always say I was lying. They had complained that I talked too ‘Proper’ and/or too ‘Correct’ to be from West Philly. I always wanted to complain and argue the fact that my way of speaking was normal for a person living in West Philadelphia and the fact was that ‘they’ had just talked so ‘improper’. Though of course being me, I had no intention to start a fight, so I eventually just gave in to what they were saying. I had not stated that I was from somewhere else; I had adjusted my speech so that it was dulcet to their ears.

            Soon I had gotten so use to that way of speaking that it hardly seemed like I was faking it anymore. However that still does not mean that I liked their way of speech. In actuality, I was appalled with the sounds that were making their way past my lips. When greeting someone, when I would normally say;

            “Hello”

            “ How are you doing”

and

            “Nice to meet you, my name is…”

I would find myself saying something like

            “Hey”

or even,

            “What’s up”

instead. It may not sound like it in another persons ears, but to me it sounds completely rude and just plainly ‘not right’.

            Recently I had read something from a book that had made me look back on my situation. The book was called ‘Hunger of Memory’. It was about a boy coming to Ameri ca and being made to speak a language foreign to him. He was disgusted that he had to even bother speaking it. He had wondered why he could not speak his native language. He had stated:

            “An accident of geography sent me to a school where my classmates were all white.”

(pg 11. paragraph 2)

And I had thought that I had felt the same way as he had. The students may not have been white at West Philadelphia High, but they seemed completely and utterly different from me and what I was used to.

Than he had said

            “It’s not possible for a child – any child – to ever use his families language in school”

(pg 12 paragraph 2)

Reading that had made me think that it resembled my situation even more then before. Then I had realized that he’d had no choice but to change his language. He was never given a chance to speak how he had wanted. I was. I was never forced to change my language. I was never even asked to try to speak more like the people around me. I had just considered that if I acted like others around me, I could be like them. I would be liked by them. Though I found out that to be like them, I would have to be myself and if they didn’t like that , then I was be best without them. There’s no reason for me to change my voice for others. No reason to change anything and that was that.

"Laura Language"

Laura De Jesus

 

Your English, My English

 

“LAURA!!!!”

 

“What chu want Jordan, damn?!” I replied.

 

“Areeeeeeeeeed, you deff aint have ta reply like that, b.”

 

“Jordan, if you don’t just shut the hell, talking fa?” I replied with an attitude.

 

“What the hell is the matta with chu? Betta pipe that shit down young.”

 

“Ared, now who you talking to?!” I said with my fists balled up.

 

“YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

 

“Get the hell out of here, b.” I replied laughing.

 

“This why I don’t like you now, always think someone playing with ya ass!”

 

“Now Jordan you know . . . ” We both go into laughter.

 

            As I enter school every day this is a daily ritual that occurs often with me and my friend, least three times a day. People look at us all types of ways.  Like “What in the world is wrong with these two?!” That doesn’t stop us and the way we communicate with each other. People tend to stop and laugh or they join in the conversation.

            Thinking back on it the way I speak is nowhere near the same as it used to be when I was younger. Being the fact that Spanish is the first language I was taught, I was fluent. Learning English was hard, especially at the age of five. Entering kindergarten and not being able to speak the native language was very challenging. The main people I knew spoke pure Spanish. I felt like I didn’t belong with them. Once they opened their mouth words flowed right out, but once it came to me, the words stood at the tip of my tongue, stuck.

            Time passed and passed, my speech was still not on the needed level. Common words like “hello, yes, no, etc…” were easy to say. Words with similar sounding letters are what killed me, kitchen for example I would pronounce “kichin”.  Switching from public to catholic school made it easier for me. By the second grade English became my official second language. Went from phrases to sentences.

“ Hi my name is Laura De Jesus.”

“Hello my name is Chelsea” she replied.

“ Can I sit with you?”

“Yes, we can be best friends” she answered with the biggest smile on her face.

            From that day forward that is how I started to meet people and make new friends. It was difficult to keep it up being the fact that my mother and father had their own way of speaking. English was foreign to my father, somewhat known to my mother.

            Entering high school was when everything really changed, I spoke English but also created something called “Laura Language” few people have understood it. Laura Language is somewhat like English and Slang but put together. For example “Idunno, yaw’ll, hellur” are a few of the words that I use often. Just mean, “I don’t know, yall all and hello.” I was switched all around, placed in three different advisories. Mr. Lucci’s advisory is where I ended up. I hated it there with a passion. I missed my other friends that I had meet but I had no choice.

“ Hi, Hi, Hi, Hi, I’m Victoria!!”

“Umm, hello.”

“ Whatcha doinnnnnnnnn?”

“ Chillin’, actin’ like you ain’t able to see that.”

“ I like candy, do you like candy?”

“ Why the hell are you talkin’ to me?”

            So on and so forth. Ive been told I speak with an attitude which I know, but I really don’t pay attention to. It comes out to be “disrespectful” I don’t mean for it to be in that way, but I don’t necessarily stop it. Like Mike Rose says in I Just Wanna Be Average, “ But I did learn things about people and eventually came into my own socially” I learned a lot about the world and how they speak I just meshed it all together. My friends and I speak very similar, rude and not caring about what we say to each other because we know that we are all comfortable. When it comes to adults, or my parents my whole language flips.

“Hi, my name is Laura.”

“Hello, how do you do?”

“Fine, thank you and yourself?”

“I’m good as well.”

“That’s good to hear.”

            Growing up with a family who speaks only Spanish is harder than a child with English speaking parents. Jobs and higher positions are given to native speakers because they have more to offer. Society makes fun of people who have accents and speaking deficiencies only for the simple fact in their eyes we have “issues.”

            I learned to love myself and the person I am, even my speaking is not as well as others. I’m not saying that I sound like I don’t belong and cant speak to save my life, but people have to question what race I am, and if I’m telling the truth. I wouldn’t change the way I was raised or where I attended school, I like the fact that I am different, where people have to question “ Who is she?” “Is she white or Rican?”