Code-switching- An untold phenomenon

Always scrambling between two different worlds of languages. Imagine you just arrived in the U.S and you are greeted with a language of uncertainty. You might be speaking differently than most of the people around you in some capacity. This is a phenomenon that you probably never experienced before. This constant alternating between two very distinct ways of speaking did not occur when I was in my home country, Guyana. At least, it was not that noticeable back then because almost everyone I knew interacted with the same dialect. I grew up speaking creole (also referred to as creolese), a form of broken English. It is not exactly grammatically correct. The only times when speaking grammatically correct English were enforced was when we were in a classroom and formal settings. 

Even then, we all sounded the same; no one felt excluded. However, when myself and my parents first arrived in the U.S about two years ago, I was exposed to a new way of speaking from my cousins. The language was comprehensive but had slight variations to what we call “grammatically correct English.” Their way of speaking sounded very different from what my ears were familiar with hearing. The thing that really set us apart was our accents. I could have clearly understood what they were referring to in our conversations, however they could not have understood me. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get you. What were you saying?” 

 I spoke the same words as them but somehow it was not registering to them. I was no longer clothed among people who spoke like me or shared my “version” of English. It was now an unfamiliar territory that I had to maneuver.   I started to become more self-conscious of everything: my accent, tone, how I speak, what I speak. I started listening more often to how people around me in this new environment spoke. I became more cautious when I spoke; something I never practiced when I resided in Guyana. Conversely, when I interacted with my fellow Guyanese natives, I had to resort back to the language I was familiar with. I was back and forth between “How are you?” and “How yuh do?” Soon, I became a pro at code switching, often communicating with different people accordingly. The migration from Guyana to the U.S was a significant moment which significantly impacted both my language and literacy experience. It made me realize how many U.S immigrants heavily rely on code switching to avoid feeling alienated or to quickly converse their thoughts.  I listened to my cousin saying that she does not want her child to speak the traditional Guyanese creolese; she wants her to speak “properly.” “I want her to communicate with her friends easily; they must be able to understand her and not make fun of her way of speaking,” my cousin said. “This is why I started trying to speak correct English with her.” Talking to my cousin made me wonder, how can we communicate and have someone understand us without changing the dynamics of a dialect we already know?

I most often find at important government places and services that a variety of languages are offered to people who may not be familiar with/know English. The most popular languages offered are English, Spanish, Hindi etc. but rarely creole/creolese. This is just one of the many cases where Guyanese are forced to give up a native dialect upon entering a different country. Now, I consider myself very fortunate to meet fellow Guyanese in the U.S who speak creolese. It gives me a break from the current reality of my environment and brings home to me. For me, home is more than just a building; it is the warm atmosphere we create to cherish and harness culture. I may be a victim of code switching, but I shall never miss the chance to reawaken the charm of creolese that is on the verge of declining among Guyanese in the U.S. 

According to the 2020 census, there are over 200,000 Guyanese residing in the U.S. There are no specific statistics to reflect the number of speakers who engage in Guyanese creole. That gives some insight into how insignificant the dialect/mode of communication is. It is not fit to be reflected on a formal podium. I once read in a cultural anthropological book, Perspectives (Brown et al.) that most people feel there is a strong correlation between how people speak and their level of education and social status. If you ever google Guyana, you will find that the “Official Language” is “English.” In most cases there is no mention of the true authenticities or variations regarding that very English language that Guyanese people converse with. This speaks volumes about the social stigma attached to creolese which conceives insecurity in the minds of Guyanese people. If the dialect is not recognized soon, then we may become part of an alarming statistics of “Top 10 people” to have lost their culture- all because a dialect was not preserved.

However, everything is not going downhill at once. The Cutlass Magazine is a popular Caribbean magazine which focuses on highlighting vital parts of Caribbean culture which inevitably includes language. This magazine primarily focuses on bringing Caribbean culture towards children with Caribbean parents who never had a tase of such a foreign culture and people who genuinely just want to have a deep understanding for Caribbean culture. It is sad to see that languages that once connected myself and other relatives are now hurdles that we must overcome, as in the case of my cousin. Maybe this magazine would ease the pressure of people wanting to feel seen, preserving a language phenomenon for generations to come.