Wow. So many emotions today about the impact, the identity of language. It was powerful to hear Robin's reaction and Tiffany's reaction to what Delpit was arguing about in her piece. And the fact that this piece of argument writing is so personal and compelling and creative is astounding to me. I do tend to think about nonfiction, informational, or argument writing as something that is drier than fiction or poetry. I forget that when the author really feels for her subject that argument and persuasive writing can be both personal and universal.
Robin said that really listening to a student, creating that safe place for her is important before trying to say something. That we shouldn't just jump in and try to interpret what someone is saying. Delpit's point that language is culture and identity, and that we are denigrating someone's mother tongue when we focus only on correcting and standardizing their language.
At first I was really puzzled too by the question that Delpit raised: If children pick up different languages or dialects or are able to code-switch so easily, why is it so hard to get students to adhere to the standard English dialect. But it makes so much sense that children pick things up easily when they identify and like the people who speak the adopted dialect. Standard English with its rules and grammar edicts isn't affirming or positive for most people. This really fits in well with my inquiry of how to make a classroom a safe, inviting place where students feel comfortable sharing their writing. How can they feel safe or want to share when they don't feel valued. I liked Delpit's line, "Those of us who teach must first make our students recognize their potential brilliance."
Delpit's piece also made me think about my own code-switching abilities, about the English I speak at school and most places and the Chinglish (Chinese + English) I speak at home. I also thought about growing up, how I would often translate for my mother at the doctor's office or at the grocery store and how I would feel embarrassed by her broken English. Why was I so embarrassed by my mother tongue? By my mother's tongue? How has that influenced how I feel about language?
Jessica, I was fascinated by Delpit's piece, as well! I have always loved language and identity (something I focused on in my undergrad thesis), and I appreciated how personal and poignant "No Kinda Sense" was, despite (because of?) its genre. I would love to talk with you more about your own experiences with language and code-switching, if you would feel comfortable.
ReplyDeleteInterestingly, as I was reading, I realized that I often feel a bit of the alienation Delpit points out - in a very ironic way. I am a white female, and I come from a well-educated, middle class family. Almost always, my background works in my favor. However, as I have gotten further in my graduate studies and look to PhD programs in the future, I am finding the opposite. My deepest passions are literature and history, specifically cultural and ethnic studies. When looking to hire a professor for postcolonial theory or cultural and ethnic studies, most colleges want someone who is not white, who can relate to the field of study through personal experience. I completely understand the value in having such a policy, but I am still discouraged by such realities. For the first time in my life, I am starting to feel a miniscule amount of the frustration Delpit describes in her piece.
Jessica,
ReplyDeleteI can totally see a picture of you in the grocery store with your mom when you were a teenager, sighing and shaking your head. I remember feeling something very similar from my dad's ability to speak in the code or language of many particular moments, and then looking back and feeling bad for being embarrassed.
Both your post and Sarah's comments make me start to wonder on a larger picture of code-switching. This isn't something particular to any one person or community, but we all go through frustrations with the process of determining what code we should be speaking in. My frustrations center around the academic community because I never have any idea how much formality versus levity I should use, and it seems to vary from teacher to teacher; can't I just speak my language already?
I find that in certain circumstances in the academic world I actually become my dad, floundering around for what I'm trying to say without any clear insight into the appropriate specifics and just throwing it out there anyways. I really like the idea of teaching code-switching as a skill - kind of like dialect as genre or something.
Anyways, I'll catch you later,
Benjamin
yes, code-switching is an interesting topic. It is especially fascinating as it relates to a family situation. I grew up in a family where my mother was from the Midwest but my dad was from Europe so language was a definite issue. My dad was actually very good with English but you could definitely hear his accent. We were encouraged to speak Polish, attend Polish culture school, but not forced to. I had no interest but picked up some words and phrases that my parents spoke to each other. My dad spoke really well for his lack of education -sixth grade since he had to work on the family farm. Ben- great point about how we all go through code switching even in the same language.
ReplyDeleteReally liked how in your post your layered the reading with your inquiry and personal experiences. Reading the comments of Ben and Sarah have got me thinking more about how it seems that many of us have some sort of firsthand experience with seeing how language and identity are related, and how devaluing one has consequences for the other. And this has got me wondering why in school we still buy into the narrative that uses "proper"and "improper" to label speech and writing practices, rather than just accepting (and valuing) the diversity of different dialects. This feels like an important piece of your inquiry thinking.
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