When I first heard of Ebonics (aka African-American Vernacular English) I was, well, less than thrilled with the concept. (Something bristling about white people studying black people on some Jane Goodall shit. I know it’s a somewhat paranoid thought, but we generally suffer from cultural PTSD.) I will admit that I was never really open to the idea of studying “how black people talk” in any serious academic sense. This is probably because, while studying how people talk is a legitimate goal of linguistics which does not necessarily single out any one group in a racist way, the fact that linguistics, one of the nerdiest of academic disciplines, was brought into mainstream discourse because of the study of Ebonics just reminded me that, in my lifetime, all intellectual pursuits will eventually be distilled into ammunition for the eternal pissing contest that is black-white relations in the United States. Also, I suspect that linguistics geeks need grant money, so making their work seem important by fueling the controversy doesn’t hurt.
Aaaaanyhoo… My disgust has recently abated when it comes to Ebonics because (as is often the case) I learned a little more about it. I owe my change of heart to the “habitual be”. The habitual be, in short, is when you use the verb “be” to express what the subject usually does, not what he is doing at a specific time. In one particularly cute example, two groups of children, one white and one black, were used to illustrate the habitual be. They were shown two pictures, one of cookie monster sleeping and another of elmo eating cookies. When asked, “Who is eating cookies?” the black kids said Elmo. When asked, “Who be eating cookies?” they identified cookie monster. The white children pointed at Elmo for both questions. This, friends, is the habitual be.
My sister decided to try this on my children the other day. Ebonics isn’t their first language. My side of the family isn’t American, and their father’s side of the family is bourgie, so, you know. Still, we figured after the past school year in Decatur, they had to be fluent by now. As expected, the younger two told us that Cookie monster be eating cookies but that Elmo is eating cookies. They giggled as they answered. My oldest, who is 8, wrinkled her nose and said, “Well, do you mean to ask me who is eating cookies right now or who usually eats cookies? That’s kind of two different things if you’re talking in street language.” Love that girl. I haven’t had the nerve to grab a group of white kids to try this out on yet. I’m not sure how I would explain it to their parents. Also, I don’t sound convincing saying, “Who be eating cookies?” Honestly, I wonder how the interviewer in the original experiment pulled it off with a straight face.
Even though I loathe stereotyping, or even accurate simplifications of people, looking closer at linguistics is like watching someone do a spot-on impression of you. Some times you just have to say, “All right. You got me. Women do be shoppin.*” I definitely had that moment when I checked out wikipedia’s take on Guyanese Creole, which is supposedly the dialect of English spoken in my home country. I grew up here, so I sound like a regular old American, but most of my family speaks this way. I had never even thought about it. I just figured it was an accent that I understood but didn’t pick up. In Guyana schools, they write and speak the Queen’s English, and everyone seems to understand that that is the formal way of speaking, but at home, we often slip into something a lot more comfortable. I suppose everyone does that, usually without even realizing it. If you look hard enough, you’ll find that some linguistics nerd has chronicled your slang as well.
In retrospect, Ebonics had probably stuck in my craw because it seemed like a scientific way of proving that black people aren’t smart enough to speak well. At least two things are immediately wrong with that. First, where do you get off deciding what it means to “speak well”? Second, how dare you assume that not conforming to your pattern of speech is an indication of a lack of intelligence? A third but less certain problem is how can you say that this is how black people talk? Frankly, I had assumed that the speech patterns present in Ebonics were common to all southerners and that most black Americans had migrated from the south, taking their vernacular with them. I’m still not sure that I buy that southern white people speak that differently from southern blacks, though they may be more inclined to hide it in polite company. Clearly, there is a divergence now. Southern whites aren’t as country as they used to be, while black people all over the US have maintained more of their southern liguistic roots over generations even after moving north and west. Still, I feel like calling it Ebonics and labeling this as “black” assumes too much about what is natural to black people as opposed to white people in a way that will be misleading to most. I am inclined to reject not only the label but also the patterns of speech described by it, just for the sake of defiance. I think most educated black people I know feel the same way, regardless of how we talk in relaxed social settings.
Still, as much as we would like to break free of the stereotypes that seem to undo our individual achievements, Ebonics, I’m afraid, does exist. At least the way of speaking, however labeled, does exist and is prevalent among black people. Even if we don’t typically speak it, we know it. When someone uses the vernacular for effect, the point is clearly made. When we are comfortable among our friends, we nestle into it. For those of us who are educated and striving for upward mobility, we sometimes fear it. When we correct our children’s use of the habitual be, it isn’t just because we want them to avoid appearing ignorant. We’re probably also a little afraid that their tractionless little feet are playing dangerously close to the slippery slope that is niggerdom, and we know we can’t afford to let them slide.
What I’d really like to know, though, is what white people think about this. Honestly. I realize there isn’t a collective response forthcoming, but on an individual level, from people who have grown up with a white American point of view informing their opinions, I wonder how all of this sounds. Enlighten me. I’ve already said too much, and if I don’t come back with some useful intelligence, my community will think I’ve defected. 
*Shout out to Dave Chappelle in the Nutty Professor!
June 23rd, 2008 at 9:54 pm
I always find the theories to be much less offensive than the labels they are given and marketed under. There’s nothing wrong with a study that comes out and says different groups of people tend to have differences in speech, behavior, hopes, dreams, whatever. That strikes me as remarkable common sense. But the word “ebonics” is god awful in how people use it and what it has come to symbolize. The scientific study is nothing more than noting a difference in the linguistic patterns of people. Nothing inherently wrong in the study or the finding. But as we both know, when someone says “ebonics”, it’s usually with a sneer and a barely concealed contempt.
There are a million studies that say a million things about the differences that spring up in distinct groups. As long as the science is sound I’m usually interested in the results. It’s the value judgements that are placed on the findings that make them a problem. After all, who’s to say the habitual be is good or bad. It just is. Or maybe, it just be.