Autobiography of a Language Ideology

My name is Jesús Rivera Orozco, and I’m from Mexico. I’ve been living in the United States for 5 years, and it’s where I’ve found my passion for Linguistics. I want to study the intricacies of linguistic interactions and how social and political stances might be shown through language. After being accepted into McNair, I want to become an applied linguist who helps underrepresented minorities have a voice in positions of power and authority and show the value of diversity and inclusion within academic settings. In my free time, I can be found reading adventure and fantasy books, watching comedy TV shows, baking cookies, or doing origami from time to time.

Autobiography of a Language Ideology

As a bilingual speaker, I’ve encountered several dialects while learning English. I’ve discovered that as time goes by, I’ve also encountered several stereotypes too, that, as usual, come from people that might have a wrong idea about a specific group or certain type of people. I accept the fact that I’ve agreed with so many stereotypes (partly because I’m still learning English, and therefore, I’m ignorant in some areas and I believe the people that propagate those stereotypes), but as a Linguist student, I’ve also come to the realization that these differences are what enrich a language. However, as a person, I unconsciously have made assumptions about a person to then realize consciously that I’m judging them for being part of a group, not because of their individuality. On the other hand, what bothers me more than realizing this is when people try to imitate a dialect that they are not familiar with, and make super stereotypical assumptions about the people who speak that dialect.

From the fricatives of the Asian languages being a stereotypical representation of their dialect, to even imitating a Castilian Spanish accent as if someone is a ssserpiente, I feel that these fake illusions of different languages are what bother me the most. The way people just pronounce L’s and R’s different just to sound Japanese is kind of messed-up, since ironically, the R in English is the most controversial sound too. However, since I know these things, I also imitate those accents, and with the same stereotypes, so it would be hipocrita de mi not to talk about my own illusions of language; the ideologies I believe in yet I’m ashamed to admit.

The accents I try to imitate when I feel sarcastical is that of a Valley girl. I feel like their creaky voice can add sassy-ness to any statement, and it’s fun to use it to signify that. Although I’m not fresa at all, a Valley girl dialect does give me some power over English, por asi decirlo. But, OH, MY, GOD I only use it to signify something I say sarcastically, because I think they can be pretty mean, and literally very sassy too. A very high, up pitch too makes me feel that the person talking really doesn’t care about what I’m talking or doing, and they’d always respond the same way: with a frivolous and very direct responses, like “Gee, you are doing a great job!” As if I’m not doing a good job, or even just not esforzandome lo suficiente. I just completely assume this, and I know it’s bad, but who cares, really?

Anyhow, another ideology I bought into was that Spanglish did affect negatively both languages, and that people speaking it were simply lazy to concentrate in one language. Although I was delighted by the mainstream community of English-speaking countries, I surmised to this idea, that the idea of doing it was simply terrific^[1] in my head. Additionally, I was a person who was excellent at my Spanish classes, I was one of the top students, the grammar nazi of Spanish against other students, so it’d be logical for me to think so. Yet, when I came to the United States, my family both learning English and Spanish, friends asking for loan words, or by simply having conversations in both languages, I realized that there was more in Spanglish that I ever imagined. Aside from being considered disastrous to both languages, there was a stereotype I wasn’t sure I fit into…

Normally, Spanglish would be used within Latino-American groups, where both Spanish and English have the same level of authority, yet I discovered that this wasn’t always true. Teachers who helped me learn English would sometimes talk to me in Spanish as if I was very secure about doing it. Sure, I spoke Spanish with them as a way to trying to fit into this new community, yet I’d get mad when people would ask my friends or me about how to swear in another language. The quintessence of White privilege taught me that people wouldn’t see the difference between the two languages in a conversation unless they wanted to be part of it, and they couldn’t see the problems of using Spanglish as a way to make others feel less than them. At first, I did get mad at people asking for spanish swear words, but I’d find myself using Spanglish as to alienate other groups. The community I was trying to fit in did this to me, yet, I did the same to them in a way I never thought of… Although, I’d giggle at the people who were trying to speak in Spanish and would notice their differences too.

I think it’s so difficult to learn languages and sound as if we were native speakers that to even use them to mock a certain group me rompe un poco mi corazón, yet I’d laugh at people trying to sound at least good in Spanish. This self-analysis feels weird, as I’d never considered myself as the one in authority around here, yet, when I have the power, I’d smirk a little. Maybe as an understanding and empathetic gesture, or as a nostalgic recuerdo of my own experience learning a new language. In any way, I don’t think it was kind of me to laugh, I found it offensive, yet people would just get more comfortable talking Spanish to me, which really surprised me at first.

Since I haven’t really “normalized” my Sound House to the American version, as Lippi Green says, I think I laugh at those people because they feel so secure about imitating other people’s accents so perfect that I can’t get over the fact that I still have an accent, which I’m still learning to embrace. The Spanglish ideology I used to believe in wasn’t coming from a place of power, but from a place of shame, trepidation, and fear. I didn’t use Spanglish not because I didn’t know how to code-switch, but because of el que dirán (going as far as even changing the pronunciation of my last name from ribera to ɹiveɹa). I was so worried about other people’s thoughts about me, the people from the community I was trying to fit in that I forgot I belonged to other communities too… As people, we are bound to think like this in times of distress; we try to find the ideologies that sometimes makes us feel empowered by making other communities powerless. Yet, there’s nothing more human and mature thing to do than to reflect on these thoughts, and think about the instances when we have power and authority and what we do with it. It’s important to realize when these instances happen so we are more aware of them and can create solid bridges between groups, not just porcelain bridges that look beautiful outside, yet are very fragile and would explode at the most minimal touch.

Works Cited

^[1] Terrifico in Spanish is horrific, which is used here as a rhetorical choice to portray the desired meaning.