It's A Mix

f o a m . you got my heartbeat running away, beating like a drum, and it’s coming your way. listen on 8tracks.

me and linguistic imperialism

(archiving something i posted to tumblr that's really important to me)

thinking a lot about linguistics. i used to have this kinda unthoughtful joke where whenever i fucked up what i was about to say, which is still often, i’d say, “i’m sorry, english is only my first language.” but then i’m realizing that it’s…not really. it’s the language i speak in and think in, the language that has most often been used to move me to tears, and the language that i grew up with–except, it’s not the only language i grew up with.

 

i also grew up with twi. my parents are from ghana, and twi is the main language of the asante people and the fante people, groups my parents are a part of. there are different dialects of it–a good comparison is to think of twi as english, where my father speaks midwestern “standard american” english, and my mother sounds like she’s from new england, maybe boston. except it’s africa, and ghana, and the asante and fante tribe, and twi, not english.

 

but the point is.

 

the point is that right now, i only understand twi. i don’t speak it, but if it’s spoken to me, about 90% of the time, i get it. i used to speak it, when i was small. it’s technically the first language i ever knew. i was also taught english, because i was born and have always lived in america, and it’s the most common language here, and the language the american government functions in, and thus, the educational system. but back then, when i was small, before a lot of what i can remember, they were equal. twi was just as much my first language as english ever was.

 

then i went to school. you know, the american public school system, though the same would’ve happened if i went to american private school, ‘cept i’d probably be a bit more an asshole.

 

i lost the ability to speak most of it then. i still understood it, but couldn’t speak besides some basic phrases, your basic hi and goodbye and how are you. if my dad or mom speak to me in it, i understand fluently–it doesn’t need translating in my head–but i respond in english. i like to think myself of loving ghana and being asante and fante, and yet, by my actions, i am more american than i am anything else. my favorite bands are in english, my favorite books are not only in english but are set in america, and my favorite movies are in english, and everything i make, as a creator, is made in that language.

 

of course, we can go back and examine things a bit more, because the fact of the matter is that english isn’t my primary language just because of the american public school system, though that was the biggest personal factor. because ghana was colonized along with most of africa in the european land grab back in the 19th century, and we’re the first subsaharan nation to get independence, which is a real point of pride there, in that place that i’ve been told is mine and yet have never been to. and english has been there since the 19th century, and the english set up english-language schools, and when my father was in elementary he was beaten for speaking twi, and for not speaking english, because twi was primitive and wrong and not godly. and so my parents learned english. didn’t forget their language, but grew up around english, grew up with english as a constant presence and are thus fluent in it to the point where it’s basically just as native as twi to them, with a few caveats.

 

i can’t speak twi, though. and i think a lot not being able to speak twi and think about the fact that when i argue i argue in english, with the same language that was forced upon my parents and their nation because of colonialism. i think about how, when i was young, i would make fun of their ghanaian accents with my sister. i think a lot about how, now, whenever i try to push back against the way things are, i use the same language as the people who made things this way.

 

of course, i don’t think the english language itself is evil. that’d be pretty nonsensical, since i spend basically all of my free time in love with it and how it can be used to be soft and cruel and convey the depths of my emotions. i couldn’t hate the language i write my fic and stories in, except for those times where i can’t really find the right turn of phrase. and i wouldn’t say that english in itself is colonization, because i don’t think it is. languages spread and grow and change and always will, regardless of how it’s used.

 

but anything can be used as a tool of imperialism. english is the language i am fluent in, and that doesn’t make english imperialism, but it makes my knowing it because of imperialism. i think it’s such an unknowingly sinister way to shape someone’s mind the way you want it to be. we say a lot that those with power and those who have had it before them can make you do things and make you say things, but can never make you think things. but i think in english.

 

again, i’m gonna go back to listening to songs in english and panicking about finals in english and loving my friends in english. but i try a lot to learn twi now, and to speak it more, and try to remember the tongue. i don’t know. maybe it’s my little bit of rebellion, or my way of trying to figure out what’s home.

 

#for folks on mobile there's a cut i know sometimes the app doesn't show it #anyway as for my rambly essay-ish thing: #of course that's not all of it #you can force a language on someone and they can very much turn it around and make it theirs #whether that be aave or pidgin or creole english #and even standardized english and what that's generally meant to mean can be useful #mlk used it in his ''i have a dream speech'' and when you're trying to communicate across groups with differing dialects it's helpful #this was more talking about my life and how i've been personally affected by linguistic imperialism #i hope it doesn't look like i'm drawing a good/bad dichotomy here #ella rambles

three podcasts you should listen to

One is narrative, one is--honestly, I don't know, I get based in irl stuff? but very, very great, and one is fandom centric.

The Fandom Centric: Be The Serpent

Okay, admittedly, if you've been in fandom for any length of time there's a 95% chance you've already heard of this or listened to it extensively (though if not, great because listening to these is so much fun) Be The Serpent is about three redheads deeply immersed in fandom who spend an episode talking for an hour about a trope, and it is so fun and so joyous and I love it, dearly. Like for instance, the episode about OT3s made me squeal uncontrollably, and it's so cool to hear people squee about fics and tropes and books you yourself have read and love. I've been listening to it a lot of the time I've been home, and it's excellent.

The One Based in Real Life: Poly Wanna

Anyway, everyone should know that I dearly love Jonathan Walker and Britt Vasicek's friendship, and they should hang out forever. I listened to this all throughout December, and it's basically about Britt, accompanied by someone who is often Jonathan, talking about her and their experiences being poly, and about different aspects of being poly, and it's so great. It's funny and warm and a little insightful and I love it a lot.

The Narrative One: Limetown

HI DO YOU LIKE JOURNALISTS. DO YOU LIKE STRONG STUBBORN WOMEN. DO YOU LIKE TERRIBLE AWFUL INTENSELY HUMAN HORROR. DO YOU LIKE SOMEWHAT EPISTOLARY STORY STRUCTURE. LISTEN TO LIMETOWN PLEASE LISTEN TO LIMETOWN, it is so harrowingly beautiful, and ALSO WHILE GOING TO LINK IT HERE I HAVE REALIZED SEASON 2 IS OUT, so please.

So those are my recs, I hope you like them!

adding to the 2019 tbr list

When I was 8/9, my dad gave me a couple books (that I remember), and I read most of them.

He gave me Animal Farm, and I didn't know about the Russian Revolution when I read it, and I was deeply upset by it, and then I watched the Thug Notes afterwards, and I watched the animated movie with my family, and my sister was so deeply traumatized by Boxer being taken away that I still can't say his name without her pointing with a very stern finger.

He also gave me a book called Weep Not, Child, and I don't remember almost everything from that book--it was Kenyan, slightly south and very east from Ghana where my parents are from, and the main character was a young Kenyan boy, and it dealt with colonialism, and I wept over it, straight up sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and I went to my dad sobbing, so I should probably read that one again so I remember what the actual story was.

He gave me the Pearl, too, and as someone who really likes John Steinbeck despite only having read two of his novels (Of Mice and Men, and the Pearl), I remember thinking when I read the Pearl that it could be so much shorter, a sentiment I carried when I read OMAM for the first time. But I remember a couple scenes from the novel, and there was this protectiveness the main character had, a very quiet sharp intelligence, which made the ending hurt more, and I really must read it again.

My father gave me Things Fall Apart, which I didn't read. I know what's it about, and what happens, and when I was younger I kinda always meant to read it but never did, so I should, now.

So, in 2019. Yeah.

(no subject)

I went back...to finish Rod's route in Cinderella phenomenon...I got the bad ending and cried for five minutes. I highly recommend this game.

Edit: I WENT BACK AND GOT THE HAPPY ENDING AND EVEN IT WASN'T THAT HAPPY BUT ENDED KINDA SWEETLY WITH SO MUCH OPPORTUNITY FOR ELABORATION MY HEART SOARS.