
Basic English: This is the language I learned when my mom and dad were teaching me how to talk. It consists of simple words like "ball" and "pink," "car" and "sky." This language taught me how to identify objects, things, places, and people with basic English words.
Daddy's Little Girl: As a young child my father adored and spoiled me. It taught me how to batt my eyelashes when I was asking for something, and to cuddle up on Dad's lap for approval. I learned that if I made my voice softer and smiled when I talked that my Dad would wrap himself farther around my finger. He passed away when I was 7 and I haven't used this language since.
Inner-city Working Class: This is the language of my immediate family, the one consider my main discourse. In this language I learned what it meant to be tired, and fired. I came to understand struggle and pride. This language taught me how to describe the hardship of being a single mother, and how to communicate my way out of trouble. Watching my mother care for my sisters, my nephew, my grandmother and I should me how to be firm and tough, how to not take no for an answer. It gave me the language of strength and determination, but also of frustration and anger. This is the "boot-strap" language that my mother taught me well.
Good little Christian Girl: My aunt used to take me to church with her when I was a child. Nobody else in my family went, so this was a discourse I only practiced with her and her congregation. I would put on my nice Sunday clothes and try make sure that I said words like "Sir" and "Ma'am" when I spoke with people in church. I tried not to speak out of place, although this one was hard for me. Praying was the most difficult part of this language for me. No one ever "taught" me how to say a prayer so when it came time for me to pray, I always felt very awkward. This language took a lot of effort for me to speak because I hadn't internalized it. It was like a mask that I put on every Sunday morning for 3 or 4 hours.
Ghetto Slang: When I was 11, my grandmother who had been my main caregiver (my mother worked all the time), moved out of our house. I had a lot of time alone after she did and I had no idea how to fill it...so I asked around. I started hanging out in the neighborhood more, venturing farther away from my house everyday. I realized pretty quick that I was not the only kid in the neighborhood that spent a lot of time alone. We all band together and started looking for things to do. When we realized there wasn't much, we started looking at the older kids in the neighborhood to see what they did with all their free time. They hung out under bleachers, used bad word, sprayed graffiti on public property, consumed mind-altering substances, fought with each other, and danced. Us youngsters thought that that life seemed much more interesting than sitting on a swing all day, so we started studying their language, how the communicated and interacted with each other, and began mimicking it...poorly at first. By the time we hit 8th grade we had it down pretty good though. We couldn't say an entire sentence without saying s*%t or f#@k, everyone was a dog, and we all pretended like we "hard core." In hind sight it was quite ridiculous, but it seemed appropriate at the time.
Kick-back Stoner Rock Babble: It's kind of humorous how I got into this scene. My freshmen year of high school I wanted to learn how to ride a skateboard so I asked my boyfriend at the time to teach me. In order to learn I had to hang out with him and his friends. They listed to rock music, bands like Sublime, and talked really slow, smoked a lot of....and wore Vans and Chuck Taylor Converse. Oh ya, and they were cute. I realized that I liked the music and the fashion in this scene better than the one I had been hanging out in so I jumped ship. I had to learn how to slow down, relax more, smile more, and say dude a lot. I still say dude a lot.
Punk Rock Back Talk: Toward the end of high school I started getting really angry. I became very aware of a lot of the things in my life that weren't picture perfect and began looking for people to blame. My mother definitely caught the brunt of it. Anyhow, I needed an outlet for all of my anger and aggression so I started listening to a lot of hard core punk rock and heavy metal. The more I listened, the more rebellious I became. Punk rock is built on the a foundation of rebellion and I channeled as much of it as I could. I hung out with people who had bad attitudes and were pissed off at the world like me, and we spent a lot of time talking about how much people suck. I became a total smart ass, and worked hard at perfecting my new found talent. It only took a couple of years to figure out that I needed to find a more healthy outlet.
Artist Chit-Chat: My next outlet became art. I had always drawn and written, but never took it too seriously. When I started to look at art as an outlet, I immediately wanted to learn everything about it that I could. I enjoyed drawing and painting traditional tattoo flash (skulls, roses, etc) so I started hanging out in tattoo parlors a lot and picking the brains of artists. I would literally bother them for information. I would follow them around the shop and ask them questions about their paintings like "what paper did you paint that on?" or "what brush did you use for that water color?" I annoyed a lot of people, but in about a year, I became fluent enough in new skool artistry, that I could carry my own conversations, as well as paint my own pictures. This was definitely a language that required a lot of foot work on my part to get in the door, but was well worth it. This is also a language that I will never stop trying to expand and perfect. It is my favorite one.
Mother in Love: When I first laid eyes on both of my children, it was impossible not to fall in love with them instantly, but expressing this love was something that I had to learn in some ways. I knew how to hug them and kiss them, but creating a life that reflected my love for them was more of a challenge. I had to clean up my act and learn the language of a responsible parent, living a responsible lifestyle. This was a complex process and more that I have time to get into right now.
Mother in Charge: As I said, loving your kids comes easy. Taking care of them when they are babies is somewhat (stress the word somewhat) fool-proof too. You have books to tell you how to take their temperature, feed them, change their diapers, but when they start getting personalities of their own and start talking and talking back, it becomes a whole new ball game. I'll admit, I had a hard time getting a grip on children's behavior at first. Remember, I spent a good portion of my childhood running the streets unsupervised, and in turn, lacked a frame of reference for how to create structure for a child. My oldest daughter was three when I realized I was slightly illiterate in the whole how to raise well-behaved, well-mannerd children world. So...I turned to Dr. Phil. Don't laugh. He was serious! And he (along with a whole lot of self help parenting books), helped me learn how to create the structure that my kids needed. I had to learn how to not yell all of the time, so that they would take me seriously when I did. I had to learn the art of negotiation. A lot of this language was about learning what not to say, and how not to talk, which was new to me. I couldn't argue like I was three, or they were going to treat me like I was three. My mother in charge language is one that is constantly being redefined, readjusted and tested everyday, but in some ways it is also the most rewarding.
Thought-pondering Intellect: This language had been the most challenging for me to learn, but also the most invigorating. I gave up trying in secondary school in the 7th grade. After that I just went through the motions of showing up to class. I had no one to enforce my school work, so I just didn't do it (trust me, I realize now how not smart this was). The point is, I never really knew what education, and professional and academic literacy could do for me. I started back in school in community college. I gave school all of the energy I had because I wanted to 1) be a good role model for my kids and 2) do whatever I could to improve our quality of life. I started getting good grades and it excited me. It gave me confidence in myself that motivated me to work harder. This confidence was the gateway to my actual learning. The more work I did, the more I learned. The more I learned, the more I realized I wanted to learn. Once I realized I wanted to learn and what academia could do for me, I realized that I was pretty illiterate in the academic world so again, I stared following people around, reading all the books I could, and paying close attention to the way other people around me spoke and interacted, the vocabulary they used. I began trying to mimic the way intellectuals wrote, and talked, and I still do. It's not that I want to consume my self with pretentious academic babble, but I do want to be able to speak articulately and function competently in intellectual and professional setting.
This is the first time I have ever considered the idea that I speak more than one language. In exploring this thought I realized that I speak many. More than I have listed here. It kinda makes me feel like a shape shifter or something. I never realized how much energy it takes to learn how to act and interact in a new setting and somehow after this exercise I feel accomplished :)
*Image taken from http://www.lib.uct.ac.za/Training/Infolit/infolit/communicate2.jpg