literacy and Language Essay

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Fatimah. Ahmed

 

People Usually think that being Multi-lingual is cool, prestigious, and plain right genius! Well for the most part I can agree, but this so-called prestige and coolness bears a very complicated rep Growing up as a little kid and even up until now I’ve been asked what was the first language that was taught to me, for some people it was either English, Spanish or any other language imaginable. But for me, the answer always comes down to not knowing. I don’t know what language was first spoken to me, I don’t even know what language I said my first word in. But trust me being Multi-lingual is honestly nice In the sense that whenever my mother is scolding me on the streets no one can hear the language that is spoken between us, or when my cousin and I are laughing or spilling teas about some things that are not meant to be heard by a third ear it honestly does feel nice but All that comes crashing down because you see, I am pretty sure that All or maybe some Multi linguals can testify with this, and that is the fact that No matter how “Multi-lingual we are; We simply can’t speak all the languages that we know correctly or to the fullest. And what makes it more annoying or painful is that you will always encounter those annoying bug-like people that will always Judge or even laugh at the way you talk or speak the language because they May have been raised Back home in their parent’s country or they are simply older than you.

 

           I grew up in Ghana( which I located in West Africa) And ever Since I was there I was kind of treated like a foreigner even though I had lived a long time there which now that I think of it now comes off as offensive, this was offensive in the manner that the way I spoke out local dialect was either different in their eyes or sounded funny to them. But it struck me

Later on, during my time there that it wasn’t My fault because you see, My family has a very Weird language history and it isn’t something that I think I want to get into. But all I know is that I had been caught in this limbo of being tossed into a series of languages and I had been unconsciously participating in it. My Grandmother Raised me and the rest of my siblings but weirdly I was the only one caught up in this so-called language Crisis( or so I called it) My father And my Mother were from different tribes and spoke different Languages, but in this case, Mother knew how to speak my father’s language because Surprisingly back in the day her Family lived in a community other than theirs and were surrounded by other tribes resulting in her naturally learning and knowing the language, and to make it more strange my grandmother no matter how long she lived in that community never knew how to speak the language and let alone understand it which led to me not fully understanding it because she back in Ghana she was my guardian and one who took care of me. I never really knew how to speak My Grandmothers language because of her constant use of Standard and “broken English” when speaking to me.

 

  As I grew up and started Maturing bit by bit, I began to realize the Importance of languages, My Language. to me they represented part of my identity, my upbringing, A code spoken by ones who only know how to speak and understand it, my culture, and simply my life. it bothered me constantly about the fact that even though I got better at the languages if ever go back I would be just recognized as the “American Girl”. Not that it was anyone’s fault but in the end, this is how it turned out to be, and funny enough Now I do speak All 3 languages (plus English making it 4). As I wrote this Experience of mine I honestly wondered if I still live in this experience or if I had advanced and become one of those annoying African Aunties and Uncles that were quick to speak at any time to point out any mistake and I have to Admit I have unconsciously become like them, But at the same, I wonder if its because I’ve grown a bit older and now know more. ( honestly, it’s like a level-up, Almost the like level up in pokemon go) but in the end, there really is no true answer, As each response to the question is always different.

To add on I truly feel that responses do change to the same question as you go older and finally grasp more understanding of the World, what you said in the past will never be the same as what you have said in the present time hence my Answer, but who knows for some people it doesn’t change, it doesn’t falter or wither like a flower, but it is carved and embedded like a code in their minds and I truly believe that A person that is like this probably has not opened their mind to a different perspective in a way.

 But in end do  I connect to this story or crisis now that I’m older? Well, I can’t really tell anymore because I’ve always tried to Avoid situations where I’m judged for the way I speak, and honestly no one judges the way I speak Anymore. But to the person out there Struggling with a language Crisis, Goodluck because sometimes it may be a life experience that will make you grow and be more mature and just help you Connect more with your Culture and language, but maybe it may not be. But consider it to be a Mini goal or personal legend Almost like the one in the Alchemist which is a book by Paulo Coelho about a shepherd in search of an extravagant treasure. So to wrap it up Language is like a Personal legend and it is far more extravagant than treasures, and whilst treasures in some sense are materialistic, A language is something that you keep forever like a Birthmark.

 

 

Another particular incident that helped me connect to my language and my culture was in high school; I was truly able to Connect With my Language through Fabric I remember the First time When we were told to come and Showcase Our African Clothes at a show our School was hosting. At first, I did not want to do it As it seemed irrelevant but after A few thoughts running back and forth I decided to come in With my Ankara Print Fabric only if my friends were on board with helping me, After discussing with my friends they all were on board with the plan but fast-forward, we where getting dressed to present our clothes but unfortunately in that time that we where briefly gone; Our instructor( the one who planned and brought everything to motion) was looking for us,she waited and waited but seemingly the crowd got frustrated and they decided to carryon without us;At that time our teacher was also looking for us because other than presenting the clothes we also had a dance with our class that was curated and was to be also presented,We made it to the scene Carried the flags that we where representing danced, i remeber the crowd looking at me and my friends dresses in Awe, and that was when the passion of getting closer to my culture and Language Struck me, And before this i had long ago realized that there where alot of African Children who came here and had completely forgotten and Abandoned their languages and Culture whilst trying to become More Americanzed and Accepted by Society. I realized I didn’t want to be like that, I wanted to be someone that is deeply connected to their roots and the way of life taught to her by her elders, I also did not want to be treated like a foreigner in my own Mother land, the very own that nurtured and brought me up only for me to come back to it with a loss and lack of identity and with one that did not belong to me.