Wednesday, January 8, 1997
EDUCATION:
Knowledge of ancestral coded languages enhances awareness of
rootsIt never dawned on me why my grandmother spoke the way she did
until I became a public speaker. Nana, a migrant from Beaumont,
Texas, never finished high school yet was keenly aware of the
importance of language. She spoke only the Queen’s English (minus
the British accent) and demanded the same of her children.
Naturally, both she and my mother noticed and corrected the
slightest grammatical error a child could make. What was expected
of me at home, in terms of the way I spoke, was the same that my
teachers demanded.
Language has always been very important to Africans in America.
Our very survival in this country has rested on our ability to
communicate amongst each other and to express our desires to
society at large. Our captors sought to impede every method of
communication out of fear of reprisal or rebellion. Many paid the
price of an education with their lives, and this is one lesson that
must not be lost. Despite the varied attempts to obstruct our
progress, we could not be stopped. Through the use of song, dance
and allegory (among others), our ancestors developed sophisticated
ways to communicate in code. Both coded speech and a mastery of
standard English are essential tools to the progress of Africans in
America.
No one can imagine Martin Luther King Jr. taking the podium at
the 1963 March on Washington and addressing the crowd in Ebonics
and being taken seriously by the majority of Americans. Nor could
we fathom Thurgood Marshall arguing Brown vs. Board of Education
before the Supreme Court in Ebonics and getting the same result.
Yet, Ebonics and coded speech continue to have their place among
African people. Switching into our "native tongue" can connote
myriad things, from comfort in a particular environment or simply
to accentuate a point.
So when San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown said, "you can call me
da’ mayor," he was speaking directly to his African-American
constituents. Just by saying "da’ mayor," he sent the message that
he is inextricably tied to the plight of our people and that we
will not be forgotten. By saying so little, he said so much.
The Oakland School Board recently thrust Ebonics in the national
spotlight when it passed a resolution on the matter. The media
inaccurately reported the intent of the resolution. The school
board did not make way for the teaching of Ebonics. Students in
Oakland will not be able to substitute Ebonics for Spanish, German
or Swahili for their foreign language requirement. Nor did it call
for separate classes for "native" Ebonics speakers. However, the
resolution called attention to the abysmal English proficiency
scores of a disproportionate number of African-American students in
the district. School board officials recognized that one of the
factors confronting teachers in raising achievement is the fact
that many students speak other than standard English at home. For
many of the children, school is the only place where standard
English is enforced. The only specific action the resolution calls
for is the recognition of Ebonics by teachers as a distinct speech
pattern and to redirect it into standard English.
That sounds simple enough, so what’s the brouhaha? Perhaps
Ebonics reminds us of our "country" cousin, or the "ignorant
sounding" guy with a jerri curl, shower cap and gold tooth who
always seems to be interviewed on the news. Could it be that we are
afraid of guilt by association? Rather than run from a "problem" in
shame, we should address it forthrightly.
The reality is that far too many of our youth perform below
acceptable academic levels. Low academic achievement leads to fewer
educational opportunities, which directly contributes to decreased
employment options. Failure to confront such issues leaves
African-American youth in dire situations with little alternatives.
The only solution policy makers appear to have is the "lock ’em up
strategy." This approach is hardly progressive, and only the
wallets of a select few benefit.
On the other hand, the resolution passed by the Oakland School
Board affirms a commitment to academic excellence. It seeks to take
students from where they are and introduce them (many for the first
time) to the accepted language of commerce, employment and higher
education. In an era of increasing hostilities and alienation from
the American mainstream, self-determination is the only solution to
the situation of African people in America. Oakland, a city with a
predominately African-American school enrollment, is moving
progressively in that direction.
It is never too late to turn any situation around. After raising
her four children, Nana went on to receive her GED and an associate
degree from the City College of San Francisco. Perhaps her example
inspired my mother to complete her bachelor’s degree 18 years after
originally setting out to do so. I am proud to say that she is
currently working toward her masters degree in social welfare at
Smith College.