words words words
Mar. 12th, 2025 10:31 amI'm sure I've posted something along these lines before, but I've made a lot of new friends since then, so I'm talking about it again!
It's spring break here, so there are almost no students on campus. I had to take the campus bus from one side of campus to the other on Monday, and I was the only person on the bus. The bus driver got to talking to me, and he had a pronounced southern accent, and as we talked I could hear my own accent coming out more strongly to meet his. So here we were, him from West Virginia and me from Tennessee, sitting there talking about how insane it is that students actually pay the tuition required to go to the institution that employs both of us.
Anyway, it got me thinking about how my southern US accent comes and goes. When I was in Vienna during study abroad in undergrad, my two roommates (from Ohio and Oklahoma) thought it was hilarious the couple of times I called my family back home because apparently my accent came out super thick. Since that time, I've paid attention to it, and realized I definitely do code-switch.
My standard way of speaking is much less obviously southern. There are shibboleths--I say "y'all" constantly and I do the typical southern thing of putting the emphasis on the first syllable of some words (umbrella, guitar, insurance, thanksgiving, etc.), turn -ings to in's, don't differentiate between certain vowels (pin and pen are pronounced the same), add extra syllables to things (we love our dipthongs!), etc. But by and large in settings where I'm surrounded by people without obvious southern accents (work, most of my socializing these days), my accent doesn't come out very thick.
However, when I was a small child, my accent was very thick. We only have one VHS of home videos from my childhood--we never had a camcorder, so we would just get a few minutes here and there whenever someone else had one. But I am struck when I watch that footage of just how thick it was. What changed?
I think I realized on a sub-conscious level as a child that the people who I admired for being smart all spoke less accented English. I think I taught myself to talk like them without realizing I was doing it, and I internalized it so much that it takes an outside trigger to turn my real accent back on.
I'm kind of sad about this? I love accents of all kinds; I find them wonderful. I like them on an aesthetic "this is fun to listen to" level and I like what you can learn from them. There are lots of different kinds of southern accents, for instance--you can usually tell not only what sub-region within the south someone is from (the deep south, the coastal south, the mountain south, whatever) but also what their class background is.
For instance, my maternal granddaddy's family was poor and from Appalachia and so they had very different accents from my maternal grandmother's. They sounded like hillbillies, whereas she was from Alabama and did the non-rhotic thing (she pronounced her friend Martha's name as "Mah-thah"), she turned ohs into ahs (taco was "tah-cah"), and she did some weird things that I can't categorize (her other friend Sarah was "Say-rah"). She sounded like what she was, which was a middle class, well-educated woman from a city (Montgomery) in the Deep South. Her accent was noticeably different from the accents of everyone I knew from Roanoke and Wedowee in Alabama--two hours' drive further north, but very small town, less well-educated. They sounded more like, well, hicks (I say this with all the affection in my heart). I don't think my grandmother's family was ever anything other than middle class, but they had the echo of old southern money in the way they spoke (perhaps this was aspirational?) in a way that everybody in Wedowee simply did not.
It's amazing how we all pick up these things--for instance, I am not great at distinguishing geography in British accents (I mean, I can tell a Scottish accent from an English one, but I can't really listen to an English accent and tell where in England the person is from), but I absolutely can hear the differences in class--just from watching UK TV and movies growing up, I can easily hear the difference between a posh accent and a working-class one. Nobody had to actively say, "Now this is what a rich person sounds like."
I know that there is a ton of discrimination built into this whole thing, and lots of people purposefully choose to learn to speak more "standard" (read: how the newscaster sounds) versions of their own native languages to avoid that discrimination. I don't blame them for this at all--it's a useful survival tactic--but it does make me sad because I just find accents so fun.
And I like to think about accents in other languages even if I can't hear them! In Spanish, I can tell a Spanish-as-in-Spain accent from a Latin American one, mostly because of the c/th distinction, but that's about as far as I've gotten. (And I will say: I prefer Latin American Spanish to European Spanish. But then, I'm an outlier and think that Spanish sounds way more beautiful than French.) I have learned that a bunch of the specific vocabulary my sister's family uses are used in Ecuador but not in, say, Mexico--some because they're Quecha loan words, other times just because different regions have different words for different things. (The one that comes to mind is "chompa" for jacket/sweater, which is used in the Andes but not in other Spanish-speaking areas, though there are lots of other ones.) It's always fun when she points out, no, that's not the Spanish word for something, that's the Ecuadorian (or Andean) word for it.
I have no takeaway from all of this, I just like thinking and talking about accents! So feel free to share any thoughts you have about accents of any kind--I'd especially be interested in hearing from non-native speakers about accents in your own language!
It's spring break here, so there are almost no students on campus. I had to take the campus bus from one side of campus to the other on Monday, and I was the only person on the bus. The bus driver got to talking to me, and he had a pronounced southern accent, and as we talked I could hear my own accent coming out more strongly to meet his. So here we were, him from West Virginia and me from Tennessee, sitting there talking about how insane it is that students actually pay the tuition required to go to the institution that employs both of us.
Anyway, it got me thinking about how my southern US accent comes and goes. When I was in Vienna during study abroad in undergrad, my two roommates (from Ohio and Oklahoma) thought it was hilarious the couple of times I called my family back home because apparently my accent came out super thick. Since that time, I've paid attention to it, and realized I definitely do code-switch.
My standard way of speaking is much less obviously southern. There are shibboleths--I say "y'all" constantly and I do the typical southern thing of putting the emphasis on the first syllable of some words (umbrella, guitar, insurance, thanksgiving, etc.), turn -ings to in's, don't differentiate between certain vowels (pin and pen are pronounced the same), add extra syllables to things (we love our dipthongs!), etc. But by and large in settings where I'm surrounded by people without obvious southern accents (work, most of my socializing these days), my accent doesn't come out very thick.
However, when I was a small child, my accent was very thick. We only have one VHS of home videos from my childhood--we never had a camcorder, so we would just get a few minutes here and there whenever someone else had one. But I am struck when I watch that footage of just how thick it was. What changed?
I think I realized on a sub-conscious level as a child that the people who I admired for being smart all spoke less accented English. I think I taught myself to talk like them without realizing I was doing it, and I internalized it so much that it takes an outside trigger to turn my real accent back on.
I'm kind of sad about this? I love accents of all kinds; I find them wonderful. I like them on an aesthetic "this is fun to listen to" level and I like what you can learn from them. There are lots of different kinds of southern accents, for instance--you can usually tell not only what sub-region within the south someone is from (the deep south, the coastal south, the mountain south, whatever) but also what their class background is.
For instance, my maternal granddaddy's family was poor and from Appalachia and so they had very different accents from my maternal grandmother's. They sounded like hillbillies, whereas she was from Alabama and did the non-rhotic thing (she pronounced her friend Martha's name as "Mah-thah"), she turned ohs into ahs (taco was "tah-cah"), and she did some weird things that I can't categorize (her other friend Sarah was "Say-rah"). She sounded like what she was, which was a middle class, well-educated woman from a city (Montgomery) in the Deep South. Her accent was noticeably different from the accents of everyone I knew from Roanoke and Wedowee in Alabama--two hours' drive further north, but very small town, less well-educated. They sounded more like, well, hicks (I say this with all the affection in my heart). I don't think my grandmother's family was ever anything other than middle class, but they had the echo of old southern money in the way they spoke (perhaps this was aspirational?) in a way that everybody in Wedowee simply did not.
It's amazing how we all pick up these things--for instance, I am not great at distinguishing geography in British accents (I mean, I can tell a Scottish accent from an English one, but I can't really listen to an English accent and tell where in England the person is from), but I absolutely can hear the differences in class--just from watching UK TV and movies growing up, I can easily hear the difference between a posh accent and a working-class one. Nobody had to actively say, "Now this is what a rich person sounds like."
I know that there is a ton of discrimination built into this whole thing, and lots of people purposefully choose to learn to speak more "standard" (read: how the newscaster sounds) versions of their own native languages to avoid that discrimination. I don't blame them for this at all--it's a useful survival tactic--but it does make me sad because I just find accents so fun.
And I like to think about accents in other languages even if I can't hear them! In Spanish, I can tell a Spanish-as-in-Spain accent from a Latin American one, mostly because of the c/th distinction, but that's about as far as I've gotten. (And I will say: I prefer Latin American Spanish to European Spanish. But then, I'm an outlier and think that Spanish sounds way more beautiful than French.) I have learned that a bunch of the specific vocabulary my sister's family uses are used in Ecuador but not in, say, Mexico--some because they're Quecha loan words, other times just because different regions have different words for different things. (The one that comes to mind is "chompa" for jacket/sweater, which is used in the Andes but not in other Spanish-speaking areas, though there are lots of other ones.) It's always fun when she points out, no, that's not the Spanish word for something, that's the Ecuadorian (or Andean) word for it.
I have no takeaway from all of this, I just like thinking and talking about accents! So feel free to share any thoughts you have about accents of any kind--I'd especially be interested in hearing from non-native speakers about accents in your own language!