Respecting Dialect Can Ease Standard English Learning

“A child cannot be taught by anyone who despises him and a child cannot afford to be fooled”
—James Baldwin

Ebonics or, more accurately, African American Vernacular English (AAVE) came to the forefront of national consciousness with the Oakland Controversy which was an attempt by the school board in Oakland, CA to recognize the legitimacy of AAVE and use public funding to reward teachers who became proficient in AAVE for the benefit of their black students. Unfortunately, this legislation was met with harsh backlash in the media and—most surprisingly—from pillars of the black community, who thought that it was a ploy to keep black students speaking solely AAVE and thus uncompetitive in the national job market. Well, Oakland actually got it right the first time. It is necessary for AAVE to be understood and respected by teachers at the very least and, if possible, for them to become fluent in the language so that it can be used as a bridge into Standard American English (SAE) learning. It is much easier to learn French when your teacher also knows English, isn’t it? I contend that it works the same way between AAVE and SAE.

Contrary to popular belief, AAVE is not “bad English” or “slang.” AAVE is classified as a legitimate language by the Linguistic Society of America, a creole, that has traceable and noble beginnings. AAVE is important, not only in preserving culture, but also in the fact that its emergence and continuation were indicative of a quiet resistance. A “pidgin” emerges when speakers of different languages are brought together (in this case, Twi, Igbo, Mende and other African languages) and develop an altered version of the dominant language (English). When a pidgin is used as a native language, it is a Creole. Gullah, the Creole ancestor of modern AAVE, developed in this way in the late 17th and early 18th Century as a result of the harsh realities of slavery.

Since many African slaves learned English from other slaves and had limited contact with whites, the socialization to the dialect was constantly reinforced. As whites passed increasingly cruel and strict laws to restrain slaves, language became the only manner by which slaves could exercise agency by reinforcing the barriers between themselves and their oppressors and expressing their own distinct identity. Retaining aspects of their native languages within English was a powerful demonstration of ownership and distinction within the confines of the slave-owners’ native tongue, which they were forced to speak in order to survive. The historian Allan Kulikoff has noted that Gullah developed into a language with “African linguistic structures and the few words needed for communication with the master.”

The Great Migration, in which many former slaves moved to the North in search of greater economic opportunity, began in 1916 and saw hordes of blacks flocking to urban centers. Even in the South, the collapse of agrarianism following the civil war forced many former slaves to move from rural areas to urban in order to survive. In these urban cities in both the North and South, due to segregation and lack of socioeconomic mobility, there were entire areas inhabited solely by African-Americans which kept the language alive. It has become an inextricable part of black culture, but also sorely devalued in the wider American mindset. The grammatical structure is almost antithetical to SAE, the language that most employers and institutions of higher education expect to hear as an indication of intelligence and ability.

AAVE has, in the last couple of decades, become associated with hip-hop, which is only appropriate. Hip-hop and rap in particular are extensions of an African oral tradition that has sustained itself over hundreds of years in the black community. Likewise, the violence and consumerism that are thought to characterize “gangsta rap” are not creating violence, but are a cultural reaction to a dismal reality of the communities that African-Americans have been legally and economically relegated to, due in no small part to the apparent “inability” of African-Americans to speak “correct” English instead of “slang.”

I would contend that this attitude toward AAVE is detrimental, not only to the respect the community receives from the dominant group, but to the children of the community who are attempting to learn SAE as their only real avenue for future success. Without getting into the hegemonic nature of SAE and the inherent devaluation that it places on creoles and dialects, I believe that AAVE, instead of being viewed as the linguistic enemy, must be employed in our schools and recognized as a true language. When a black child is told that their language, the one they, their grandparents, their friends, their parents, and nearly every member of their community speaks, is wrong, they rightfully shut down and dig in their heels in an instinctive bid to protect culture. Do I think it would be beneficial for teachers at schools with large black populations to learn the grammatical structure and vocabulary of AAVE? Yes. However, all that I will ask in this forum is that teachers remove themselves from the mindset that AAVE is “slang” and “wrong” so that they can better reach their students.

“Now, if this passion, this skill…..this incredible music, the mighty achievement of having brought a people utterly unknown to, or despised by "history" --to have brought this people to their present, troubled, troubling, and unassailable and unanswerable place --if this absolutely unprecedented journey does not indicate that black English is a language, then I am curious to know what definition of language is to be trusted.”
—James Baldwin

(More information about AAVE grammar can be found in Spoken Soul: The Story of Black English by Rickford and Rickford)