Screaming at a Wall

I grew up in a trilingual household. Before I could speak in the mother tongue of my birth-land, I constructed my first sentences in my parent's shared language: Hebrew. The language that tied my home together, at least my first few years of existence, was not the language that I saw on the sides of trucks, or in newspapers, or heard on the TV. It was only my introduction to the kindergarten that halted my proficiency in Hebrew; the move necessitated my being able to communicate with my teachers and playmates. But now, whenever I talk to my family in Israel, I find myself struggling to find the words that once came so easily. The language that I still dream in sometimes.

Looking at me, or hearing me speak, you would not be able to discern that part of my past. Perhaps my slightly drawling W's would tip you off to my years in the South, but beyond that my past would be a mystery to you. Regardless, the language we use to communicate is a vital part of our national culture, regardless of what nation we call home. Our language affects our design, how we feel, how we treat others, and literally every other aspect of how we interact with the world. The objects we describe have nothing to do with the pathetic jumble of letters we title them with. Signifiers and symbols weave together in our minds. My mom is my ima is my madre is my maman, and she is not any of those words or letters. Same for any other word. Nations agree on definitions of words, of the symbol matched with the signifier.

Language and Change

            In high school, I prided myself on being a grammar Nazi.*There was nothing I loved more than correcting other people’s grammar. You used “to” instead of “too?” Beware my mockery. “Alot” instead of “a lot?” Hah. I would read people’s xangas just to pick apart their syntax. Even text messages weren’t safe. I don’t know how I had friends. In high school, I was an idiot.

            The whole purpose of language is to communicate. At some point we are taught there are better, standard ways to communicate. However, this simply isn’t true. There is nothing inherently better about certain dialects of English than others. People speak what comes naturally to them, and that is what is correct. Language is also always changing. Words are constantly being created. Many of these changes are inspired by minorities. So when women begin speaking with vocal fry or African American Vernacular English challenges the accepted verb structure, the people who protest are those already in power. Suppressing language changes is simply another way of asserting dominance and enforcing the existing hegemony.

            As a nation, we should start accepting diversity in language. All forms of communication are valid. Language should be celebrated and not restricted. Different forms of communication like Facebook statuses and tweeting r not destroying the sanctity of English, they r allowing it 2 flourish :)

*Calling myself a Nazi was also a terrible move. Proudly comparing myself to a group of people responsible for the deaths of millions is beyond offensive, and I really regret it. 

A great article on vocal fry

Jessie Ede Blog 3, Language and Access

I am a native English speaker. The dialect I speak is most likely North Midland American English, but it is not something I have really looked into. When I think about language in America, especially as a means for access, my mind immediately jumps to the immigration debate and pushes for English-only legislation in some states. Even outside the context of state regulations and requirements with regards to ESL standards, many states have made headlines with their efforts to make English the official language of their state, thus requiring all official government documentation to be written in English and only English. There are also bumper stickers, popular with some, that read "I shouldn't have to press '1' for English in America!" or some variation thereof. This stance has always irritated me for multiple reasons, but I always attributed at least part of it to plain xenophobia or, less kindly, to ignorance of America's history of immigration among other things. The Anderson reading made me realize that it is really all about blocking access. It is much easier to subjugate a people with the official establishment and documentation conducted exclusively in a language that is not their own. The guest lecture in class yesterday about minstrelsy reinforced this impression. By denoting some languages or even variations on English as "lesser" in the public sphere, a dichotomy is created where any type of English that is not up to "standard" is a source of shame. I posit that America has simply shifted from making this distinction with the dialect of English mimicked in minstrel shows to decrying non-English languages as the symbol of someone occupying a lower status in society. Granted, this shift has not been a total one, as forms of English with any sort of dialectical specifics (basically, English with no discernible accent or other markers of variation) are still viewed by some as "lower" forms of English, but with the influx of people speaking a different mother tongue than the European settlers the locus for language shaming and access blocking has shifted.

Laura Menzel Blog #3: What we say and how we say it

How we communicate is integral to how the content of our communication is received.  What we say is only half of the message we send.  The interpretation of an idea is based on how it is delivered, who is delivering it, and the context of the delivery.  For example, in the clip we watched of "Top Dog, Underdog", the metaphors implicit in the content were enhanced by both the setting and costume design.  The ring formed by the audience and dog food boxes made the viewer think of a dog fight.  The use of white face highlighted racial tensions.  The presentation of the content allowed the viewer to focus on the metaphors within the content rather than becoming solely absorbed in the story line.

How a speech is said also affects the way it is received.  Orpheus McAdoo performed minstrelsy, which typically ridiculed and satirized African American culture.  However, in his choice of presentation, McAdoo was an instrument for uplift politics in an effort to improve the social mobility of African Americans.  He dressed well and spoke in a refined manner to accentuate that he was an educated, high class gentleman.  McAdoo also identified as "colored" while in South Africa to further increase his social rank.  In these ways, McAdoo garnered a certain amount of respect.  With a captive audience, he could choose which messages to deliver.  McAdoo purposely did not perform stump speeches and did not use black face because these directly satirized uplift politics.  By presenting his show as a gentleman, McAdoo could control how his message was received.

Theater and film can easily use set and costume design to refine a message, but non performative forms of media can also refine their overall message by choosing which stories to publish and how they are juxtaposed.  As Anderson points out, newspapers told particular stories of world news that differed from region to region, thus solidifying a particular national identity.  "The very conception of the newspaper implies the refraction of even 'world events' into a specific imagined world of vernacular readers" (Anderson, 63).  Newspapers allowed citizens to construct their own history and deliver it to thousands of other citizens.  With a unified story, a national consciousness could be born.  The content of a message is of course very important, but its power can be amplified by a shrewd delivery.

Do I Speak English? Matt Antezana Blog 3

Yes, I do speak English. The question of whether or not someone speaks English is another one of those popular questions in the US that is constantly asked. This is no doubt a result of the "melting pot" that is the US. I myself have been asked this question, no doubt because of the way I look, and I have always responded with a yes and a fluently. While the US has no official language and by no means has an English only policy, one cannot deny that English is the most prominent language in the US. Being able to speak English is seen almost as a requirement to be an American and learning English is one of the main priorities for immigrants in America. I myself am proud that I am fluent in both English and Spanish, as both have become necessary for my life. English is in important in all aspects of my life; while Spanish is important in communicating with relatives, keeping up with my latino heritage, and even as a valuable skill.

In Imagined Communities, Benedict Anderson states that print-languages laid the bases for national consciousness in three ways (Anderson, 44). The first way in which this occurred is that "they created unified fields of exchange and communication below Latin and above the spoken vernaculars" (Anderson, 44). English in the US is a classic example of this because it is used to communicate across all possible fields of communication ranging from internet communications or simple phone calls. It is by these means that the millions of people in America can communicate with each other across the entire American territory. It is through these communications that the millions of inhabitants in the US become aware of one another without ever needing to meet each other and become connected through these English fueled communications that make up an integral part of a community.

I believe that the second base of national consciousness argued by Anderson applies to the role of language and its role in imagining a nation. Anderson claims that "print-capitalism gave a fixity to language, which in the long run helped build that image of antiquity so central to the subjective idea of a nation," (Anderson, 44). English (and any language) in the US goes hand in hand with print as language is necessary for print to exist in any form. In current times print isn't just recorded in books but is recorded in various other mean such as the internet. While it is possible to burn books, print that is recorded on the internet cannot be destroyed and it is in this way that is solidifies our language for future generations. Print, in its various forms, also serves as social capital as it viewed as being necessary for interaction among the various members and communities of a nation.

Ashley Murphy, Blog 3

There are thousands of languages and dialects in the modern world and perhaps a hundred or more that will never be spoken again. A common language can unite a people while those who speak different tongues may have trouble finding common ground if groups cannot communicate. I speak English and some Spanish, and will travel to Spain in the fall and hope to improve those skills. However, no matter what language is spoken, I think that words can never convey how someone actually feels.

There may be substitutes or synonyms to describe how I'm feeling on a daily basis, but is there truly ever a word, or even a set of words, to convey how I really feel? To tell someone how angry I might be about something, or disappointed. I can tell someone I love them, yet that does not describe how I care deeply for them. I have a Korean friend that was telling me about a word in her native tongue that described the feeling of "skin-ship" you have with someone; like a relationship but through a physical manner like holding hands. There is no English equivalent for the word though. There are numerous words in English that other languages do not use and vice versa. Even though every nation may not share a common language, we share feelings and sentiments, which don't need words to be described.

Anderson notes that the advent of print-capitalism allowed local and global news to be shared. Since creoles shared a common language and ideology, there was already a basis for a connection to be made. When stories were reported about different parts of the world, it cultivated the notion of "us" and "them". The existence of other nations was not ignored as Americans were creating their own sense of identity.

Emil Iqbal- Do you speak English?

I do speak English, fluently and completely. I grew up in a bilingual (arguably trilingual) household, so I learned how to speak English alongside Hindi and Urdu. (As a side note, Hindi and Urdu are two very oddly related languages. Orally they are virtually the same language; when I talk to my Indian friends, I speak in Urdu and they speak in Hindi and we get along absolutely perfectly. There are very minor differences such as a word here and there, but they are pretty much the same. Written, however, is completely different. Urdu uses an alphabet derived from the Farsi and Arabic alphabets, while the Hindi alphabet is a derivative of Sanskrit). So although I am fluent in English, I also am just as comfortable with one (possible two?) other languages.

The idea of a nation and language are intimately tied together. A group of people becomes a nation when they can pinpoint certain characteristics that bind them together, that transcend simple superficial factors to a point that no matter what that any given individual has a common heritage with another. So along this though, language plays an integral role in the formation of a nation. In the United States, English is the prominent language, so in order to fit into the nation you must be able to speak English. Language is such a powerful thing. Have you ever played charades? Think about how absurdly hard it is to convey the meaning of a simple word such as "park" to someone without using words (or using a common language). Because language plays such an integral role in the communication of thoughts and ideas, it makes perfect sense that a group of people will automatically divide themselves by their common language.

I'm not sure what I think of this idea, dividing people by language, quite yet. I think that it is human nature to connect to people similar to you (such as people who speak your language). But I also think that creating a language barrier to establish nations is...artificial? Yeah, maybe that is the right word. When my mom moved to the United States, she did not speak perfect English by any means, but she is very much fluent now. And she is an American. On the other hand, I speak Urdu but when I go back to Pakistan, I am not automatically accepted into culture there. I'm immediately marked as an outsider because as much as I try, I do have an American accent. I guess I'm still working through all these thoughts, but I would like to know what anyone else who is bilingual thinks about how language plays a role in developing a national culture?

Matt Raimondo, Blog #3

Do I speak English?  Of course I do.  English is the unofficial language of the United States, and since I have lived here all my life, I am therefore inclined to speak it.  However, we need to examine what we truly mean when we ask "Do you speak English?".  Are we really asking about the English language, or are we actually asking "do you understand those around you"?  Throughout most of the world, English is seen as the medium between individuals interacting from separate countries; it is the language  of international business and used during exchanges between members of the United Nations.  The idea of a broadly-known language allows us to communicate when we hail from countries at opposite ends of the Earth - it allows us to be understood.  If one cannot interact and engage with others, then how can one hope to make an impact on those around him/her?

I think that this idea of "speaking English" and being understood fit in well with what we learned in class this past week.  In particular, we saw how the participants in the LA Riots fought to attract attention to what they perceived as social injustice, and as fundamental violations to their God-given rights.  The rioters- or revolutionaries - felt that they were not being understood by those around them; by those, I mean mainstream America, especially those Americans that were far removed from the Rodney King situation, both physically and emotionally.  The people out in LA- primarily non white individuals -felt that they were really given the short end of the stick by the rest of the United States; I think that it is quite telling that many expressed strong hatred towards the police, whom many Americans see as a source of security rather than violence and injustice.  They felt that their backs were up against the wall, and the only way to really stop the injustice and violence was to act out and attract national attention to what the situation in LA was really like.  Music also played a pivotal role, with artists like Doctor Dre, Ice Cube and Ice-T all filling the airwaves with stories and tales of the struggles associated with LA.  I believe that someone may have mentioned in-class the analogy associating the LA Riots with what happens with an overstuffed drawer- you can keep jamming and packing items into a drawer, but eventually it will all come spilling out and over the overpacked drawer.  I think that this is exactly what happened in LA; the people could only take so much, and they did what they felt they had to do in order to survive.

This brings me back to my thoughts on English as more than just a language, that it represents universal understanding between different people.  The people in LA spoke English, yet they were not fully understood or able to communicate with the rest of mainstream America.  When one cannot communicate with others via a spoken language, then other ways of communicating will take center stage.  In this case, it was with riots in the streets and protests all over the city.  The LA Riots, to me, may serve as a cautionary tale as to what can go wrong when we fail to listen to each other - even if we all do speak English.       

Do you speak English?

I do. I think that anyone who speaks a "national" language creates their own language in the process of adhering to the national standard. For instance, regional dialects and slang can be considered their own languages. Language is personal. In my opinion, the government invades privacy by mandating a national language. Some would argue that a national language should be mandated for convenience, but the concept of a universally spoken language within a region is mythical to begin with. The national language, as Anderson points out, is tool for exclusion and oppression. Latin was used to both extend the powers of the Catholic church and quell the voices of the uneducated and non-Catholic. Printed language helped sustain the facade of a nation state. No one really speaks this national language that our country has. It appears only to exclude.
 I found the following quote yesterday and I thought that it pertained to the questions of humor and oppression that our class discussed the other day: "Laughter must liberate the gay truth of the world from the veils of gloomy lies spun by the seriousness of fear, suffering, and violence..." The quote comes from a larger piece by Mikhail Bakhtin called "Rabelais and His World". Humor must approach what it is evil in the world in order to liberate truth. This is the kind of humor at work in The Colored Museum. The pastiche narrative the play adopts is used to excite its audience and to make them feel some level of discomfort, particularly white people. It clearly succeeds, otherwise we wouldn't have had such a quiet discussion on Tuesday.
I think that the way in which Macadoo used minstrelsy can also be viewed as pastiche.  The danger of using pastiche, however, is that your audience will not rise to the intellectual demands of the performance. They might miss the veil. Indeed, although Macadoo used uplift politics, it's probable that many white South Africans missed the boat or looked the other way.  In a similar, modern way, I think that a large portion of Chapelle's audience missed the boat. What was meant to be perceived as a commentary on racism was translated as racist commentary. At their core, however, these pastiche performances utilize uplift politics to expose the truth of the world.

John Wang Blog 3

Do you speak English?

Yes, I speak English. However, though I was raised in the United States, my first language was mandarin Chinese, and I am most able to articulate what I’m saying when I speak predominately English with Chinese mixed in. This mixture of languages is often affectionately called “chinglish” by those who speak it.

Speaking English, I do feel more connected to my “imagined community”. I believe some of most important ties that bind a nation are language both written and oral. With that being said, I do also think people who speak the same way/dialects identify most strongly and allow for the possibility of even closer knit “imagined communities”

In the video we watched on February 5^th, I understood what the characters were trying to convey. They had a lot of anxiety in their lives and believe me I felt it in my own as I was praying the movie would end. Given these thoughts, it led me to my blogging conclusions that people who speak similarly or understand completely what other people say are able to connect deeper in their sense of community. At times I was not sure what was going on because communication goes much deeper than language in terms of words.  I usually only hear the tones of voice I heard in the film before fights break out. It was stressful to me.

As a speaker of both Chinese and English, even though most of my friends I have only speak English, I feel I am most comfortable building community with people who speak both English and Chinese. At least, it is a quicker process. I believe it is in human nature to seek the familiar when building our imagined communities and your “language”/communication plays a large in letting our primal defenses down sooner and more easily.

Jessie Dzura, blog 3: Nuestra America

As someone who strongly believes in education, reading, and learning, I advocate for the use and study of (powerful) language. The question for today's blog,  as posted by the professor, is: Do you speak English? I think a series of more appropriate questions is as follows: How does your English change depending on the context? Do you speak another language? If so, why? Do you relate to this other language. My answer to the professor's question is yes. Of course I speak English. I would not be attending this class, at our College, if I did not speak English. However, my English changes on the context in which I am speaking it. With my friends, I adopt a more casual, slang-ridden, maybe even obscene version of English. With professors, parents, etc. my English is more formal, calculated, structured, "advanced", whatever you would like to call it. With children, English becomes simple, short, basic. Why do these changes matter? The changes matter because the WAY in which you speak English (or whatever language you speak) fosters community with those you are speaking to. My friends rely on a more colloquial method of communication; parents and professors require more tact and thought; children simply require understanding.

On to my next question for discussion. Do you speak another language? Yes. I am bilingual in English and Spanish. Why? In middle school, my parents wanted me to learn Spanish because it is the "language of the future". For their future it was, for mine, I probably should have gone with Chinese. However, I feel an intense connection with the Spanish language and culture. I have an "in", if you will,  with people thousands of miles away. We can speak together, experience culture together, gossip... and the list goes on. Because of my language skills, I consider myself bi-cultural. I relate very strongly to both American and Spanish culture, and any other branch-offs of the "typical" traditions. Using Benedict Anderson in this example, a state or nation becomes a community with common language. On page 47, he describes this union: "All, including the USA, were creole states, formed and led by people who shared a common language and common descent..." For me, descent does not matter so much as language. With language, people have a door into another world and another people with whom they relate.

This brings me to literature and print. Both are essential in the formation of a communal identity. They offer a method for sharing information, interpretation, and other day-to-day things for people who share a language identity. In the USA, print and literature are used to share all kinds of information that is inaccessible to those that cannot understand our language. In cook-books, we pass down cultural traditions; in magazines, we pass along gossip and stories of our heroes; in newspapers, we share the news of the community. Print plays a large role in forming our identity, especially in art. Literature becomes a symbol for a nation. The Federalist Papers created the foundations of the USA, for example. The syllabus for this class becomes the foundation of "our nation".

Sarah Smith Blog 3: Linguistic Power and Role of Nation

As a linguistics major, I’ve spent a lot of time in the last three years studying the role of language as both a divisive and unifying force.  Language connects people: we have Standard American English, British English, Spanglish, African American English, English pidgins and creoles, and many more variations that are considered distinct forms of English, unifying people around the world.  But language can also be very divisive.  Anderson discusses the “fatality of human linguistic diversity” (43), describing the impossibility of all humankind uniting under a single and universally understood language.  In addition to geographic and biological barriers—dialectal differences as well as people groups with yet undeveloped capacity for acquisition of non-native sounds—Anderson’s “languages-of-power” structure is a historical linguistic reality. Tom McArthur wrote an article in 2005 called “Chinese, English, Spanish—and the Rest” which details seven levels of language:

Level 1: English (global language)

Level 2: Chinese, Spanish, Hindu-Urdu (spoken by hundreds of millions)

Level 3: Arabic, French, German, Japanese, Malay (widely used, prestige languages)

Level 4: Significant Nationally and/or Regionally

Level 5: Locally and Socially Strong

Level 6: Small and (Perhaps) Managing

Level 7: Extremely Small and Endangered

The highest levels represent languages of heavy use and global power.  Powerful languages are associated with powerful nations and cultures, and why would they want to renounce that power for the sake of unification?  English is alone at Level 1, and even as the number of English speakers around the world grows, so too do the number of English dialects.  Over time dialects become distinctly separating languages, so that there exist many so-called English variation speakers who cannot understand one another. Yes, I speak English—but it is one type in a mix of many others. 

Perhaps because of my interest in linguistic realities, language is a major factor in my conception of nation.  Like I said above, I do speak English.  And it’s true that I tend to think of my English as the English.  Why?  Because language is tied to nation.  The Unites States is a (if not the) world superpower.  Just like languages like Sanskrit, Greek, Latin and French throughout history, English has become a prestige language.  It indicates success, culture, education and freedom—because the nations it is representative of are generally successful, cultured, educated and free.  It is a language of power, made so not because of syntactic or semantic superiorities but because of national associations.

I mentioned in my last post the work I did with a refugee resettlement organization.  I taught a number of English classes to refugees from Myanmar (Burma), Bhutan, Iraq, Iran and elsewhere.  It was something of a no-brainer that my students sought English-proficiency: they were, after all, refugees seeking to make new lives for themselves in a nation dominated by English. But it was fascinating to watch a language-nation hierarchy develop over time in the ESL classroom.  At the top of this abstract hierarchy was a refugee from a French-speaking nation, who found English more similar to his native tongue than did the other refugees. The Iraqi and Iranian students were next, confident in the status of Arabic and Farsi as well-known and widespread languages.  Several ESL teachers were familiar with or fluent in Arabic and/or Farsi, and many of these students knew some English coming into the program.  Their confidence and self-assurance was evident, envied by their less-educated and less-affluent classmates.  Next were the Burmese students, some educated, some comfortable with Malay (another widespread language), some with English experience—but generally poor and representing a long-oppressed people group.  They lacked the confidence of the Middle Eastern students after years of living in poverty and fear while waiting in Malaysia to receive refugee status.  The Bhutanese refugees, though, were generally less educated, spoke their little-known language, and many entered the program entirely illiterate.  For some, their language status was a useful tool.  For others, it was a limitation, held back in the confidence by their felt inferiority to the languages with greater status.  The students were very aware of each other, and students’ language and their ability to wield language became an indirect marker of cultured-ness and status, representative of their nations of origin, and divisive. 

Language does not merely contribute to how we conceptualize or imagine our own nation; it also shapes our image of other nations. It allows us to put ourselves within the framework of the world’s nations and the world’s languages, finding out place in relation to others.  I am reminded of the clip of Roots that we watched, and Kunta Kinte’s insistence on using his African name rather than the English one he’s been given.  The theoretically “powerful” language (English) is being pressed upon him, but he desperately clings to his African name. His name, its language, ties him to his community. Some languages may be more prestigious or have more speakers, but to make language prevalence representative of communities being inferior or superior to others is to undervalue rich heritage.

Tenille Jensen Blog 3

Do I speak English? That seems like a pretty easy question to answer. Before taking this class, I probably would have immediately said yes and not thought twice about it. Having the opportunity to watch The Colored Museum by George Wolf (and listen to our group discuss the movie afterwards) made me realize how complicated that question can really be. I can probably say that I am confident in the fact that I speak English and I can articulate myself well to other English speakers, but how much of what I am really trying to say is being conveyed to my English companions – my true thoughts, my deepest feelings, my history….do people really understand what I am trying to say, are they getting it?

To be honest, I’m not sure. What I am sure of is the fact that I watched a profound play, took it in for all its worth, and tried to understand the African American plight. Unfortunately, the reality is, I don’t think that I ever will. As a minority, I can relate to a certain extent but let’s call a spade and spade….I am not an African American and I will never know what it feels like to truly be a black male or female growing up in the United States. I am not going to pretend to either. Though the cast members of The Colored Museum spoke English and conveyed the struggles of the African American community in white America so eloquently, how much of it will I ever understand? How much of what my African American peers say can I relate to? What part of the transaction is disconnected? I think this can be said for every English speaker on the color spectrum in the United States: we each speak an English that is deeply rooted in our experiences, history, and most importantly, our shoes. Isn’t that what binds common languages and dialects to begin with?

In America, we speak many forms of English because we are a melting pot of history, culture, and experiences; no matter how well we articulate our emotions, some things can never be translated. Someone during our class discussion said that listening and respecting the experience of the individual will do more for our society than trying to sympathize, empathize, or create a common connection in which we can all relate – I completely agree. Until we learn to respect, listen, and learn, the language barrier will never be breached.   

Tonisha Spratte Blog #3 Riot v. Rebellion

In class on Tuesday January 29^th the same event was called two different things; a riot and a rebellion.  This made me think of what the difference between the two words is.  This, in turn, made me think of a funny, yet slightly thought provoking, clip from Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia, where Danny Devito inquires of Dee her thoughts on looting versus survival (In case the hyperlink doesn't work http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Y2BSbVpMTw), but I digress.

Riot vs. rebellion:  Are they synonyms, similar perhaps?  Or maybe on completely different ends of the spectrum.  Merriam-Webster defines it as unrestrained revelry (noisy partying or merrymaking); noise, uproar or disturbance made by revelers; public violence, tumult, or disorder; and profligate, which is self-indulging and restraint-less, behavior.  Rebellion is defined as opposition to one in authority or dominance; open, armed, and usually unsuccessful defiance of or resistance to an established government.  So, these words have some similarities and it seems to depend on the individual’s view of the reason for/goals of the uprising/calamity.  Going by the definition, a riot has no real underlying foundation, or if it does it is not political or for the benefit of the people as a whole.

Therefore, what benefit could the people of the LA “Riots” obtain or have been seeking to obtain?  One may say they just wanted to make trouble, act recklessly, and steal.  During the movie, there was a clip played where Bush said something about the LA Riots having no political bearings and is an act of profligacy.  Those aren't his exact words, but I could not for the life of me find this clip.  In response to this I ask the question, why did these riots start?  Did a bunch of black people just wake up one day and say, “Hey, I want to burn down some stores and cause a lot of ruckus for no reason.”?  I don’t think so.  The people were outraged by the ‘justice’ that was rendered when, on April 29^th 1992, the four policemen associated with the Rodney King beatings were found innocent of using ‘excessive force’ in order to subdue him.  The people felt that the judicial system let them down.  The police officers, while blatantly guilty to the public at large, were found innocent by an all white jury, or more precisely, a jury of their peers.  Even president Bush openly refuted the verdict, which, in one article I was reading the author believed that this equates to some of the blame belonging on his shoulders because the president openly criticized the verdict, weakening the belief in the system to render justice.  Read the article here (again, just in case the hyperlink didn't work http://capitalismmagazine.com/2012/04/remembering-the-1992-los-angeles-riots/.)

Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to excuse their actions, I am merely trying to bring to the forefront the thoughts and feelings of the people at that time.  Whether it is labeled as a riot or rebellion the facts are not changed.  There was racial tension, probably bubbling up for quite some time between many different races, and a highly publicized trial that didn’t go the way the general public thought it should.  But one can ask oneself what are the reasons and underlying forces driving the LA Riots?  What were the goals and what was trying to be expressed through their actions?  Why was this the immediate reaction of the people?

Jonno Marlton Blog 3: Understanding My Identity in English

The impact of capitalism on the process of imagining nations is Anderson’s starting point in discussion the importance of literacy and print in evaluating the creation of nations.  If we think about the functions of a nation to be divided into the two spheres we discussed in class, the state and civil society, we can begin to determine the role that print and literacy has in a society.  The lengua franca transitioned away from Latin as many states (or realms) began to transition to vernaculars for administrative purposes.  The post-Reformation religious sphere also began to adopt vernacular, rejecting the increasingly antiquated Latin language.  The splitting away from Latin into independent administrative languages contributed to national sentiment, as it increasingly distinguished people under one regime from another.  Once print-capitalism arrived, the uniformity of a state’s language made popular due to its now easy access.  The shared experience that a uniform print language gives to a mostly literate society contributes directly to nationalistic sentiment.

I do speak English.  And because of this ability, I feel more connected to my imagined nation(s) because I can relate using the language of my government(s.)  But I have only spent two years in Australia, and there are people over there who may not speak English who consider it more their nation than I consider it mine.  Language is a unifying factor, but it is also an exclusive one.  We gauge national identity in large part based on one’s language or even accent because the use of a national language in some ways marks the commitment to the national government.  However, the US is a nation that where people speak the language of the government.  As Anderson asserts, there are and have been many nations (or states) with official print languages not used by the people.

As an English speaking American, the idea of my imagined nation is stronger than I imagine it would be if I did not speak English or if it were my second language.  In my experience, the English language has been a unifying factor, but it could also serve as a division.  An American who does not speak English suffers in a few ways.  One, he or she is probably viewed as being un-American by those citizens who speak English, and two, navigating outside of a non-English community in the U.S is difficult as product labels, laws, and instructions are written in English.  Because, as Anderson states, “there…is no possibility of humankind’s general linguistic unification,” we English speakers are permanently distinct from most of the non-English speaking nations.  However, my ability to read and write in English allows me to relate in terms of literacy to other English speaking nations.  Print language not only unifies groups within the same nation, but it also draws nations that speak the same language closer together and pushes those who do not further apart.  Can you think of some instances that disprove this final point?  Colonialism probably does.  

In response to class on Thursday:

         We watched a clip from an episode of Roots, and I posed a question asking if the students who identify as black related in any way to the characters in the episode.  I want to apologize because I did not mean to draw an unnecessary racial barrier.  The bystander affect that Sam mentioned and that was demonstrated on screen knows no race, and therefore I imagine any student could relate to the action of the show.  I am curious to know if the active rejection of the white slave owners carried over to an active rejection to the oppressed black slaves.  What were your reactions to what we saw?  What are some contemporary parallels we can draw to what was happening in the clip?  I am thinking of other forced relinquishing of aspects of identity.