African American Vernacular English
Disclaimer: I am a white woman. I am not a speaker or expert on AAVE, and I will never claim to be an authority on Black culture, to which I am an outsider. This article was written in the perspective of a linguistic student to a general audience, and from someone who used to be confused about the legitimacy of non-standard English, and science behind dialect difference.
“Well I just don’t get why they have to say ‘axe’ instead of ‘ask.’”
I remember hearing this sentence in two different occasions. One was in my own kitchen and one was at a Christmas dinner table. Perhaps not the same exact sentence, but similar; “I’m not racist, but I just don’t understand why they talk that way. They know how to speak English like anyone else, so why do they say things like ‘axe’ instead of ‘ask’ or ‘finna’ instead of ‘gonna?’” These kinds of comments are usually accompanied by further snide remarks: “Its like they are trying to talk with an attitude. Why do they talk differently from us when we come from the same place?”
The “they” my family members were referring to was African Americans.
I remember being in youth group when a certain religious leader of mine (we will call him Kenny for now) playfully teased one of our few black student interns about the way he spoke on the phone vs. the way he spoke to us. We had been calling members of our congregation, advertising for an event the youth group was hosting. When the intern hung up the phone, Kenny said to him, “why is it that you can talk to strangers on the phone like you’re having an interview, but when you talk to us it’s all ‘hella’ this and ‘tryna’ that, acting like your’e a gangster or something.” Some of the other white student leaders laughed and chimed in agreement, offering other mock-examples of the intern’s speech.
The usually energetic fifteen-year-old awkwardly laughed and didn’t know how to respond. “Thats how I talk!” He tried to brush it off, but left the room clearly embarrassed.
Kenny continued, “I mean come on! He’s faking it. He’s trying to sound like he’s tough or he’s from from the hood or something. He grew up in Johnson County for goodness sakes, not the ghetto!”
I didn’t know this at the time, but these stories are examples of Dialect Discrimination. Like all micro-aggressions, they are a symptom of a much larger problem: ignorance, prejudice, and racism. Generally, most people don’t understand WHY some folks differ from “standard” American speech, but the only people who receive serious doubts, interrogation, and degrading stereotypes for their derivations are people groups who have historically been oppressed. What the majority of non-black people don’t understand about black speech is why it is so unique; its more than just an accent- it is sometimes an entirely different vocabulary and grammar. And unlike Southern accents, Californian accents, or the countless accents originating from urban New York, black accents don’t come from a single area; they are from all over the United states. To those outside of the culture, it doesn’t make sense how black speech can sound so distinct across the entire nation and yet be so integrated with other demographics and other ways of speaking.
But as you might recall, integration wasn’t always the case in American history, was it?
African American Vernacular English - a (very) brief history.
AAVE/BVE stands for African American Vernacular English or Black Vernacular English, which used to be called “Ebonics” and is commonly still simply referred to as Black English. Every dialect in the United States has a unique origin story based on the influence of non-English languages, geographic location, intermixing culture, war, etc. However AAVE is unique in that it historically belongs to an ethnic people group who were forcefully segregated from other ethnic groups for over 200 years. Just like any other dialect or language, just because this dialect originated from a certain ethnic group does NOT mean that every person in that ethnic group identifies with the dialect, meaning that not every black American identifies as a speaker of AAVE. In the same way, there are plenty of non- black people who adopt at least certain features of AAVE by proxy. And because of this intermingling, there are MANY versions of AAVE across the United States- versions influenced by the South, by the North, Spanish dialects, and all kinds of other cultural factors (the United States is a HUGE country, incase anyone has forgotten.)
Even though you can find examples of AAVE evolving all over the United states, the origin of the dialect began the same way all other dialects are born- with the isolation of different people groups. In this case, the isolation initiated over 300 years ago in the form of forceful subjugation and isolation of Black Africans by European colonizers.
Here’s how AAVE evolved:
From 1619 to 1808, Africans from all over central and west Africa were captured and sold into slavery, bringing dozens of languages from the Niger-Congo family tree and likely other language family trees that were left undocumented.
These people were forced to abandon their African culture, meaning they were severely punished for speaking their native tongue and needed to pick up English quickly. Any time throughout history where language contact occurs through forceful erasure from a conquering people group, a pidgin forms in the conquered people groups. A Pidgin language is a grammatically simplified version of multiple languages forced to communicate. In the case of Africans brought into American Slavery, the major pidgin that was formed was called Gullah.
Whenever a second generation is born speaking a pidgin language, that second generation will speak a creole, which is basically a more fluid version of the intermixed languages. Most linguists believe that AAVE largely evolved from a creole based off of Gullah, called the Creole Origin Hypothesis (though there are also some who suspect that AAVE was more influenced as a diverging dialect from white southerners: the Dialect Divergence Hypothesis.)
Although African descendants continued to speak Gullah and likely other lesser known variants of Niger-Congo/English creoles, they often spoke differently when interacting with white people/ slave owners than when interacting with their own families and communities, code- switching as a means of survival.
English speakers of Gullah were highly concentrated in southern states of the United States (those that made up the confederacy) until the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863, and in 1879, a mass exodus of Black Americans moved to northern states to escape continuing oppression, taking the beginnings of AAVE all over the United States.
At the same period in history, hundreds of Irish immigrants were making the United States their home, as well as Italian, Polish, French, and many other non-English speaking immigrants. Yet today, descendants of those immigrants speak English without a trace of their ancestors’ accent or language. Its not as if we can tell automatically by the way someone speaks if they came from a Gaelic, Italian, Polish, or French- speaking family.
So if African American families moved all over the United States nearly a century-and-a-half ago, why did AAVE continue to be so different from the way other Americans spoke, and why did it stay unique to African American communities?
The answer to that question is because racism didn’t end, and Black communities continued to be socially isolated from white people wherever they went.
Black communities avoided interaction with non-black communities for more than a century after the Emancipation Proclamation and even after Brown v. Board of education in 1954 and in 1964 when the Civil Rights Act was signed. Although it technically became illegal to discriminate on the basis of race, practices such as redlining communities (preventing non-white families form owning homes in certain areas of a community) only unofficially became illegal in the 80’s.
Wherever there is a barrier between two people groups, dialectal differences will continue to evolve separately, and although physical and legal barriers between the races in the U.S. dissolved over time, social barriers continue to this day. Even now, in many places where people consider racism to be a “non-issue,” that doesn’t mean that speech differences automatically disappear; even after being integrated, communities, families, and individuals tend to interact with those who are culturally similar to them, causing a “natural segregation” which varies depending on all kinds of factors: safety, poverty, geographic location. Nevertheless, all over the nation these overt and discrete segregations alike are gradually evolving and lessening, meaning that we can expect more linguistic interaction between Americans from all different kinds of backgrounds.
The Great American Melting Pot, right?
Some Common Linguistic Characteristics of AAVE:
These are a few common identifiable features of AAVE; however, keep in mind that like all dialects, AAVE changes everywhere you go. These features aren’t perfectly uniform across the United States. Additionally, many of these features apply to other United States dialects. I have linked at least one published article with each feature; every grammatical feature of AAVE is definable, valid, technical, and a part of a pattern, just like standard American English.
Copula Deletion- the copula of a sentence is deleted for efficiency. In English, the copula is “to be” verbs. Notice that every word that could be made into a contraction can use copula deletion in the same place.
“She’s coming to my house.” > “She coming to my house.”
Negative Concord- Instead of one negator in a sentence, all possible areas of negations in a sentence must be negative.
“I ain’t/haven’t ever been to any part of Mexico.” > “I ain’t/haven’t never been to no part of Mexico.”
Aspect Markers/ Present Perfect Markers- Indicates present continuous.
“She’s working right now.” > “She be working.”
“It” instead of “There” as a “dummy” explicative pronoun-
“The mailman’s at the door.” > “It’s a mailman at the door.”
Reduplication - using a word twice for emphasis.
“He’s like, super mad right now.” > “He’s mad mad.”
Popularizing AAVE: The language of hip-hop, pop-culture, and America, yet still considered “bad English.”
So what does that mean, that the barriers have been evolving and lessening over time? that means probably what you think it means; slowly but surely, AAVE has been spread out into non-black communities. But just because it has been popularized doesn’t mean that it has been accepted or validated.
From “mumble rap” to what is considered “presentable” speech on a phone call “appropriate” when speaking to an authority figure, non-black folks continue to dub black speech as unintelligent, indistinguishable, and unprofessional while simultaneously using features of AAVE terms for advertisement, entertainment, and to look “cool.”
There are 23 identifiable dialects in the United States, and yet AAVE is still one of the most discriminated against.
AAVE has been associated with poor education and lower class since its first speakers were forced to abandon their native languages. And even when African-Americans speech isn’t been associated with outright negative traits, it is still associated with racial stereotypes, such as being sassy, or ghetto, or dramatic, or unprofessional.
Discrimination VS Appropriation:
Black Vernacular English is both discriminated against and appropriated every day: meaning non-black people use AAVE terms for own purposes (such as to sound cool, to sound “black,” to stay relevant) all while negative stereotypes against black people and the way that they speak continue.
Many consider this to be a version of Cultural Appropriation, which is what happens when elements of one culture are used, caricaturized or tokenized for commercial or entertainment purposes of another culture.
Here are a few examples that might help with Discrimination VS Appropriation:
Discrimination: Believing that there is a “Bad English” vs. “Good English” when it comes to a people group and the way they speak.
Appropriation: Using AAVE terms without understanding what they mean to sound “cool.”
Discrimination: Associating AAVE with lack of education, or with other negative personality traits.
Appropriation: Being able to “turn on” and “turn off” your accent without facing consequences:
AAVE is what dominates American popular culture: music with African-American roots such as Rhythm and Blues, Hip-Hop, Rap, Jazz, Rock and Roll, television shows and movies all capitalize on the popular American dialect. Black actors and actresses speak in their own idiolect (one’s personal accent) but also often alter or dramatize AAVE for certain cast-typed roles and performances because AAVE is marketable and Black speech is everywhere. In fact, African American culture and speech is often what non-Americans associate with America.
Now this is the part where some might think, “we have standard English for a reason. We have grammar rules for a reason. We can’t possibly just accept all ways of speaking as correct, otherwise people could just make up whatever rules they want about English!” Yes, that is true; standard English serves its purpose in standardizing communication.
But let me ask you this: do we question the functionality or legitimacy of other American Dialects?
Do we hear people complain:
“Why do Southerners say ‘ain’t’ instead of ‘are not?’ Why do some people from some parts of New York say ‘yins?’
They know those words aren’t right! They how to speak proper English, so why don’t they just speak correctly!?”
Of course Americans don’t make comments like these because we have accepted those dialects. The truth is that slang and grammar patterns coined from predominantly white dialects are accepted into the common tongue and even into dictionaries (the official stamp of approval that a word is “real”) much faster than those from non-white dialects, even though AAVE and other non-white dialects have existed in the United States for the same period of time if not longer.
How Linguistic Discrimination against AAVE Continues
Instead of telling you how discrimination against African Americans continues when it comes to dialect as a non-black person, I wanted to bring a few voices from my community to talk about what they’ve experienced. I informally interviewed a handful of my friends, and I’ve kept all names anonymous to respect their privacy aside from a first initial (to tell which answers came from the same person.) There are many more stories I could share (I already gave a few examples in the beginning of this post) and hundreds more black folks could share, but that would be difficult to stuff into one already lengthy blog post:
Q: Have you ever had assumptions made about you/ discrimination based on the way speak?
B: “Yes, I’ve definitely had comments about my way of speaking. In high school, a white classmate loudly asked me why I didn't 'sound black.' Other white people, mostly adults, have been surprised while telling me that I'm ‘well-spoken’ or ‘articulate’...People will also typically expect me to be able to fake an 'African' accent, or get disappointed when I cant speak Swahili to entertain them.”
B: “I went to both a primarily black school and a primarily white school and I experienced it both places. At the black school they insisted that ‘I thought I was white’ because of the way I spoke and they constantly perceived me as being… sort of stuck up or better than, and at the white school they sort of aligned themselves with me by calling me an Oreo and placing me in a different group from the other black kids. I'm naturally rebellious so when they would call me an Oreo I would attempt to counter them by saying Oreos were delicious and also colors don't have sounds so you sound like an idiot.I would say this at both schools.”
M: “I have and do encounter people that bring their own assumptions about my cultural upbringing. As a bipoc (black indigenous person of color) who presents racially ambiguous, when I speak in white vernacular, my proximity to my blackness is not always easy to deduce. On the flip side when speaking Spanish or english in a Spanish dialect it has been assumed many times that I am not from kansas city MO and I have been complimented or praised for my accent sometimes even being asked, "where I come from". This is a question I receive often and, outside of speaking in Spanish or english in a Spanish dialect, I find it to be moderately offensive.”
Q: In those instances, do you remember what you were thinking/ feeling? Did you ever have a clear moment where you realized “oh, I’m expected to sound a certain way and I don’t” or did you kind of always know that?
M: “I don’t feel like I 'belong' to any particular language community. I definitely resent not being able to speak Swahili, or know all the slang. I've never faked AAVE, though I feel some [people] may question that, now that Ive started saying 'y’all' (after having lived in Georgia for 6 years). But I think it’s mostly paranoia, knowing how I’m often scrutinized over my amount of perceived whiteness or blackness. Any other AA slang I've picked up is mostly through my best friend and the online communities of actual black people that I frequent and participate in. I don't feel that that's inauthentic, especially since I don't even use as much as [non black] tiktokers do.”
M: “I guess they were all just moments of being othered, and embarrassed to be outed as 'other.' Just reminders that people will always see me as black before they see me as anything else, and that that meant they would immediately expect (mostly racist or just ignorant) things of me.”
Q: Do you feel like you Code Switch?
C: “If the goal is to fit into or stand out in certain peer groups, I will adjust my dialect to achieve that. For example in predominantly white spaces I will swap between speaking what you labeled ‘AAVE’ or ‘Black vernacular’ as I call it and "White vernacular.’"
B: “Unfortunately, [the discrimination] did persist through college but in college I ran into code switching, which I didn't know was a thing until college and I realized that my family and I do naturally. But along with these common experiences, I encountered this other thing that existed within the black community relating to individuals that also sounded "white" as they call it. As an adult I started running into individuals that took the claim of sounding "white" as something to be proud of but bragged as if it gave them an edge or maybe placed them a step above the rest.”
Q: Can you tell me a little bit more about one of those experiences?
B: “I worked for my godmother, who is white. She sold her client list along with her employees to a company owned by a black couple. I immediately recognized the wife as someone who would fit the category I fell in; I'm sure she was told that she sounded ‘White’ at some point. I also noticed that around my godmother she would use overly exaggerated professional very big words and language. After I began working with her I realized that… this woman took the idea of sounding educated and white as [if] she was a more educated [person for sounding white.] Sort of like a self-fulfilling prophecy, I later noticed the words or a lot of them that she would use weren't actually the correct ones or even in the right context. This was fine until I heard her brag about people perceiving her as a white woman on the phone.”
Q: How do you feel about non-black people using AAVE/ Black Vernacular?
P: “I think you’ll have a cultural pendulum in the way. The age of assimilation and integration and the popularization of the “blaccent.” You see people that don’t normally use that accent to prove a point, a comedic point. Part of what we are seeing is acceptance of black vernacular, and part of it is performative or ‘trying to be funny..’ there is a conversation be said about that.”
C: “they want to act like black people are uneducated when speaking AAVE, but when they want to seem ‘cool’ or ‘hip’ in front of their friends they talk all kinds of AAVE…for example I say ‘Fasho’ or ‘aight then’ a lot people who never use those words in any context all of a sudden start using those words around me.”
C: “At this point Hip Hop is no longer just a black music genre. Just like how Rock Was Appropriated back in the day by white artists like Elvis. Hip-hop is now being appropriated by white artists like MGK, Eminem, Iggy azalea, Lil pump, Lil peep, Post Malone, lil xan etc.. most of the consumers of hip hop are white [nowadays.] So what happens is black culture is imitated by white artists. Then their white fans imitate their favorite white artists not realizing their favorite white artist is appropriating another culture. So in turn, white people in the masses start speaking AAVE…”
C: “I don't care if White People speak AAVE because that means it will eventually be more accepted and people who speak that way will be more understood. My thing is if you are going to speak it don't just speak that way for ‘street cred’ but then shame black people who speak that way. ”
After reading, I want you to decide: do you think dialectal discrimination against African Americans is a thing of a past? Or as we have seen it proven time and time again even within the last year’s events alone, is it that this side of racism has simply evolved into a new form of modern prejudice?
If you are a non-black person and you don’t know where this leaves you in terms of what you are “allowed” to express, try asking yourself these four questions coined by Luna Malbroux to check your slang:
1) Are you commercializing it for your financial gain?
2) Is it performative? Or tokenizing?
3) Are you using it to ‘level’ up’ to get ‘street’ credentials?
4) Are you in proximity to originating culture?
“Make sure your words are not a verbal Blackface.”