English 766

Dr. Kenneth Sherwood

2 November 2005

Leon Stennis

Studing Dialect Be Cool?

Hey, I guess I could have passed on the blog today since I am doing a 10-minute presentation on the performance of one of Paul Laurence Dunbar’s African American dialect poems, “When Malindy Sings,” which will be performed via video by Dr. Woodward Martin, retired professor of English at the University of Dayton. But since Kamau Brathwaite’s “History of the Voice” focuses on “nation language” (another name for dialect) in the Caribbean and dialect is such a hot, juicy, controversial topic among people in the African diaspora, I could not resist doing a blog – being the discussion kind of guy that I am. My presentation will include the video clip (hope the technology is up to par) and my interpretation. So, stay tuned.

Hey Kamau! Been There, Done That!

Reading Kamau Brathwaite’s “History of the Voice” prompted me to think back to my seventh grade English class at Dunbar Junior High School 50-plus years ago in Little Rock, Ark. The class was doing an oral reading exercise. The sentence, or passage, that I read made a reference to one of our best-know presidents, whom I in my stiff Arkansas drawl referred to as “Abraham Lankon.” My teacher, Mrs. Childs, stopped me immediately and the class roared with laughter. I did not get it right away, but Mrs. Childs said, “Leon, it’s Abraham Lincoln.”

This epiphany about the woes of African American dialect has remained with me all of these years, even to the point that I mentioned it in a poetic tribute to my mom when she died in 2001. Here’s the stanza from the poem, “Mama, I’m looking at this Kerosene Lamp”:

and at the first flicker of the light

I see the cotton fields at Mt. Nebo

in Lank-on Countee, Ark-and-saw. Oh, excuse me President Abe

and Mrs. Childs (seventh grade English).

But Paul Laurence Dunbar – this dialect stuff, he’ll understand.

Over the years, I have had to unlearn or at least suppress, the Arkansas African American dialect that I grew up speaking because of a reality that dwells with all of us – the need for acceptance. For me, growing up in an undereducated (my mom received only a third grade education), single-parent, impoverished household, African American dialect seemed so natural as a child. But as I matriculated through the educational system and the professional work world I had to unlearn it or suppress it. For the most part, I think it has been a process of unlearning. But I can’t say that is completely true, because every once-in-a-blue-moon, when I am talking, something dialectal pops into my head and out of my mouth via the subconscious. So, I would say my process has been a combination of unlearning and suppressing.

Now, back to Kamau Bratwaite and today’s readings. I found Bratwaite’s promotion of a “nation language” (he does not want to call it dialect because of the negative connotations, unhuh, unhuh) for the multicultural and multi-liguistic people of the Caribbean, many of whom are part of the African Diaspora. He cites the many efforts of poets from the Caribbean who have dabbled in “nation language,” dating back to Claude McKay of the Harlem Renaissance era (whom a lot of people, including myself, thought was American). That history, I think, is particularly useful, because it shows that people of color, or people of the African Diaspora if you will, have in shaping a cultural identity in societies where the educational, political, and economic systems are controlled by others who are interested in maintaining the dominance of their values.

Should we study the works Brathwaite, who often blends “nation language” with so-called standard English, or the works of Cecilia Vicuna, who often blends Spanish with English? You bet we should. I am just not so sure how hard we should push in an attempt to get them accepted by everyone.

I remember having to read the 700-plus page Middle English version of Mallory Works (the story of King Author and the Knights of the Roundtable) for an Arthurian literature class. My professor said the purpose for the reading was for the class to get the feel for translation and what the English language was like during the Medieval period.

If the case can be made for a need to read 700 plus pages of Mallory Works in Middle English, certainly the case can be made for the study of Brathwaite’s “nation language.” But, let’s just study it for its usefulness in understanding oral cultures. We don’t have to try to make it into a shoe that fits all of the people of the Caribbean. After all they are a very diverse people. Kamau, take a lesson from the dialect experiences of African Americans!