Wednesday, February 2, 2011

What is African-American English? (Part II)

In an earlier post, I suggested that linguistic features classified as “African-American” could alternatively be classified as “American.” I do not intend to presuppose that one label should be preferred to the other in any or all instances. What concerns me is the dearth of discussion over the potential consequences (political, educational, etc.) of these labellings. I will provide a bit of context for my concern in this continuation.

First, I should point out that even if we have decided to carve up the linguistic landscape along racial lines, we are not forced to use the term “African-American.” John Baugh has written an excellent article on the politicization of different terms for the descendants of slaves living in the United States (see American Speech, Vol. 66, 133-46), and I further recommend John McWhorter’s piece “Why I’m Black, not African-American.” I will leave this issue aside, however, since my question is not what do we call the race? but rather why race at all?

The responses I have received to this second question from linguists often make reference to facilitating communication with laypersons. Whatever may be the relative merits or deficiencies of such an argument, concepts of race are not merely present at the level of popular discourse; they are inscribed in law. While this did not stop a group of schoolchildren in Ann Arbor, Michigan from attempting to enlarge the scope of their case beyond race, arguing that their school had failed “to take into account cultural, social and economic differences between them and economically advantaged children [in teaching literacy],” the only argument the plaintiffs won hinged on the following clause, from the Equal Educational Opportunity Act of 1974:
No state shall deny equal educational opportunity to an individual on account of his or her race, color, sex, or national origin, by […] the failure by an educational agency to take appropriate action to overcome language barriers that impede equal participation by its students in its instructional programs.
This fact about the case in Ann Arbor would seem to support the framing by linguists of societal language issues in terms of race (or color, sex, or national origin). Nevertheless, it should be noted that the apparently crucial bit of evidence for the judge’s decision to order changes in the school district’s handling of students came from an observation that when teachers do not take into account the home language of children, children may “turn off” from the learning process and fail to learn to read. This pedagogical consideration, in general, has nothing to do with race (or color, sex, or national origin). Therefore, notwithstanding the constraints of the existing legal structure, if linguists (or others) wish to improve education, it would seem that they should examine, and invite others to examine, multiple approaches to enacting educational reforms.

Although I will not attempt to evaluate how well people have actually done this, I will look at one particularly relevant example of language between linguists and laypersons, a piece which is sufficient for demonstrating how certain paths of action may be invited or inhibited. I am referring to the Linguistic Society of America’s resolution on the Oakland “Ebonics” Issue, which begins with the following[1]:
The variety known as "Ebonics" [and by other names] is systematic and rule-governed like all natural speech varieties. In fact, all human linguistic systems—spoken, signed, and written—are fundamentally regular.
It has certainly been noble for linguists to fight the myth that the speech patterns of stigmatized groups reflect some sort of cognitive deficiency. However, the LSA’s statement does not clearly do that, since it focuses on abstract systems and not on people. The claims that a speech variety is “rule-governed” and that human linguistic systems are “fundamentally regular” are not claims based on evidence. Rather, they owe to faith or to tautologies by definition. Importantly, these ideas of rules and regularity resonate with common conceptions of what a language, especially a Standard Language, is. Hence, the LSA has allowed for the dominant rhetoric associated with Standard Languages to be applied more broadly, for better or for worse.

In any case, the rationalization of Ebonics does not grant it any higher social status (unless you otherwise believe that it does). The resolution later adds:
For those living in the United States there are [...] benefits in acquiring Standard English and resources should be made available to all who aspire to mastery of Standard English. The Oakland School Board's commitment to helping students master Standard English is commendable.
Perhaps most linguists in the United States would agree with this statement. Regardless, there was an opportunity here for the LSA to invite a discussion over the legitimacy and importance of Standard English as it stands, an opportunity not taken, again, for better or for worse.

From what we have seen so far, the LSA resolution has done nothing to question the common mythology of languages as pre-existent things. The closest the LSA comes to such questioning is in the following clause:
The distinction between "languages" and "dialects" is usually made more on social and political grounds than on purely linguistic ones. For example, different varieties of Chinese are popularly regarded as "dialects," though their speakers cannot understand each other, but speakers of Swedish and Norwegian, which are regarded as separate "languages," generally understand each other. What is important from a linguistic and educational point of view is not whether AAVE [African-American Vernacular English] is called a "language" or a "dialect" but rather that its systematicity be recognized.
Although it is certainly to the LSA’s credit that they have cited “social and political grounds” that go into distinguishing languages from dialects, the sociopolitical basis for the establishment of a language variety itself, regardless as to whether it is called a language, dialect, or anything else, receives no mention anywhere in the document. This is a striking omission. Of course, if we accept that African-American English (AAE) is a language variety, and if we further accept that all language varieties are systems, then the systematicity of AAE is guaranteed. But, neither the existence nor the systematicity of AAE is supported by purely linguistic evidence, unless what counts as “purely linguistic” corresponds to what linguists say in official statements. More specific to the language of the LSA resolution, there are no objective grounds for what qualifies as people who “generally understand each other,” and whether people take the pains to understand each other undoubtedly depends on social and political factors. Again, what is most significant here, perhaps, is that the resolution maintains the discussion at the abstract level of language variety, keeping it at a remove from flesh and blood humans.[2]

To be fair, the decision to discuss language in terms of rule-based systems, like the decision to discuss language in terms of race, undoubtedly facilitates communication with the broader public, at least in a sense. This facilitation, however, is coupled with a reinforcement of the ideology of languages as independently existing objects, an ideology which supports the continued legitimacy of Standard Languages as they are, along with the connected status quo(s).

In an article on Ann Arbor, William Labov said, “The only permanent advance in the condition of life in any field occurs when people take their own affairs into their own hands.” In this light, why should there be such a thrust among linguists to promote the legitimacy of “African-American English” without providing a rationale for this move in relation to other possible tactics, and without inviting a discussion over the relative benefits and costs of framing language along racial lines? Moreover, why should linguists effectively shield the notion of “Standard Language” from critical scrutiny? While it should be understood that the LSA resolution was a reaction to the Oakland school board's decision and therefore had to be passed quickly, it has now been over 30 years since Ann Arbor and yet these questions do not appear to be receiving much attention by linguists(cf. Green's African-American English, and Word: The Online Journal of African-American English).

To conclude, if we seriously tried to determine what’s best for our society (as a whole) regarding language and education, we might propose considerably more radical reforms than measures to facilitate literacy among people classified as speakers of certain varieties such as African-American English (not to suggest that these measures have done no good). It might also be easier, in some cases at least, to generate discussion (and action) when educational issues are framed in terms of societal well-being, as opposed to being framed in terms of an abstract variety’s legitimacy. Finally, it should at least be considered what the potential benefits and costs are of reinforcing not only ideologies regarding languages as objects, but also of races as natural groups. I will return to this in a later post.

Meanwhile, thanks for reading.

notes

[1] Note that I am not questioning the intentions of linguists, or anyone else, here (cf. Labov, 1994: 550). What I am suggesting is that we construct reasonable hypotheses with regard to how particular linguistic constructions (including constructions at the level of an LSA resolution) influence human activity, recognizing (following Saussure) that the absence of something is in itself significant (cf. Chomsky, 1986).

[2] See also Makoni & Pennycook, 2005, Disinventing and (Re)Constituting Languages, in Critical Inquiry in Language Studies: An International Journal, 2, 137-156.

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