Throughout this unit, I had the chance to investigate how and why I speak a certain way. It was interesting to make connections between how I speak and cultures that I’ve had exposure to, or adaptations due to experiences I had gone through. I believe that the two main influences on my language world was being South Korean, and attending an international school. In short, it could be summarised as being a third-culture kid.
Up until I was 6 years old, I’ve lived in South Korea, which is also where I was born. I spoke Korean much more fluently than I spoke English, as I was only taught English at tuition centres, whilst Korean was a mother tongue everyone around me shared. Primarily, I was taught American English, as the majority of students do in South Korea – due to obvious American influences in my country. My English teacher was also from the US; I used to spell everything with an ‘o’ instead of ‘ou’ and ‘-er’ instead of ‘-re’.
This quickly took a turn when we immigrated to Singapore when I was 6. Although I’ve technically lived in Singapore for longer than I have in South Korea, I haven’t picked up any Singlish nor the terms that are spoken in local areas. I’ve had zero exposure to them, continuously holding the status of an expat. This partly explains why I’ve never felt Singaporean, or that I perfectly belong in this country. I identify myself strongly as a UWCSEA student, attending this school for around 8 years now. This sudden exposure from a very unified pool of nationality to a diverse, flourishing mixture of cultures influenced me greatly. It is the very reason why I speak English as I do. I have a very hybrid sort of speaking. I picked up various terms and accents, I switch around, none of them feels completely mine; only the combination of them does.
Having English as my second language greatly affected how I speak. First of all, when I was younger and less proficient in English, I used to always mix up the order of words. The sentence wasn’t entirely undecipherable, however, it felt a little out of place because I would follow the Korean syntax when I spoke in English. Now it is the other way around, speaking Korean in the English syntax. Until very recently, I spoke quite formally with Standard English in most situations. I have learnt the language, instead of growing up in it, and obviously what I was taught was completely Standard English, in textbooks and such. I used quite a lot of conjunctive verbs in everyday, casual speech, which a friend pointed out that I’m the only one in the social group who does that in informal conversations. I do less of that sort now, being more comfortable with English than any other language, but I still do throw in words like however, therefore, or nonetheless as I speak with my friends about finishing my homework for class. I have only picked up slang very recently, only because it felt awkward being the only one in the friend group who didn’t use it so often. Even now, I need to ask around for the meaning of a new term that everyone seems to know, perhaps due to the influence of not participating in social media using English.
Now, in my world, the two fluent languages I speak are very separated. Korean for home, and English for school. The two barely overlap, as I am not understood in either of them when the two is switched around. I’ve seen other third culture kids like myself, and I’m one of the not very many students who still hold value so strongly on being South Korean, having that identity firmly in place. I believe maintaining fluency in my mother tongue has greatly helped in securing that. Because language is directly connected to culture; there are a crucial bond and reflection of the values and beliefs of that culture within a language. For example, unlike English, the Korean language has a very distinct line between formality and informality, where children are allowed to speak to each other in informal ways, but to speak to an adult in such manner is looked down upon, viewed as highly inappropriate. This shows the more hierarchical society of South Korea influenced by Confucianism and the more subtle judgements of formality in Western culture. I would most definitely not speak to my teachers the way I speak to my peers, but words itself aren’t altered, nor do I add a certain phrase at the end of the sentence to ensure that I’m being polite and respectful. (I’m finding it rather difficult to explain how it is done so in Korean) When I’m trying to add a level of formality in English, speaking to my teachers, I simply remember to not use slang and maintain grammar with syntax. Perhaps the tone of voice I would use is more polite and decent. In a casual talk with friends, such things matter less. I put on a much more blunt voice, I mix in various slang or swear words I would commonly use with them. The reason I take such care in how I speak is that it represents to others who I am. It shows that I have enough senses and politeness to adapt to the situation I’m in and speak appropriately. When certain judgements of made, how I speak would be a great determining factor.
Language has a very direct connection to an individual’s identity. How I speak represents me. It represents who I am, where I come from, and often what level of education and class I’m going through. Someone’s first impression is not only determined by what they look like, but it is also influenced by what they sound like. If an individual identifies with a certain group, and they meet another person who does the same, they can instantly connect with each other. However, this also works vice versa. If speaking the same way creates inclusion, speaking differently creates exclusion as well. For example, returning to your hometown where everyone speaks the same way as you do, makes you feel comfortable and accepted. But if you go to a completely different region where no one speaks as you do, you feel quite isolated and out of place. I am speaking partly out of experience here. I speak the Seoul dialect in Korean, one that is usually accepted as ‘Standard Korean’ and held with a bit of prestige. It is encouraged to speak this dialect in formal situations, and often people from other provinces change their accent and dialect to sound like they are from Seoul. I have visited other provinces who speak vastly different from what I am used to. Sure, we can understand each other, because we still hold a sense of difference. Best case scenario, it shouldn’t matter. Differences are merely differences and it should simply be accepted. But most of the time, prejudice or stereotype about speaking that dialect influences how people are treated, creating outcasts. I was viewed as foreign even inside my own country, so I can’t imagine what it is like to be so different in a foreign country. For me, I have it a bit easier than most. Thanks to moving to Singapore so early on in my life, I speak English with proficiency and without any strong tell-tale accent that indicates I’m from South Korea. I speak ‘good English’.
I’ve always found it a more difficult debate when mentioning the prestige speaking Standard English holds. I fully recognise that it is important to have guidelines of grammar and syntax, a fixed answer for what is correct. But the inability to speak perfectly Standard English shouldn’t be an element that contributes to stereotypes or prejudice, nor should it hold oh so much prestige. Furthermore, we know that Standard English isn’t forever fixed. Because language cannot be set in stone, for generations after to use exactly the same way. The modern English that we speak today is vastly different from what was considered ‘standard’ in the olden days. To consider non-Standard English as ‘degraded’ or ‘broken’ is rather absurd when a single man named Shakespeare inventing more than 2000 phrases up is considered acceptable.
More concern can be raised towards how people apply prestige towards ‘good English’ as well. Because, what exactly is good English? There is a group within Singapore encouraging Singaporeans to use good English instead of Singlish because apparently, Singlish isn’t good enough. Whilst Singlish is a representation of Singaporean culture, it is looked down upon by some, often even to subjects of mockery – which I often find within my peers. A Singlish accent isn’t the only accent subjected to mockery. One could speak with good grammar and syntax, yet if you have a strong foreign accent within, your English is considered bad and rather funny to listen to. I’ve seen one of my classmates endure endless teasing and laughter – some with very distinct ill-intention – due to having a strong Chinese-English accent. Speaking with a strong Australian accent or a Californian accent doesn’t necessarily make you sound ‘bad at English’, because although your accent is present, it is accepted. When that English accent’s origin traces back to countries like India, or China, it is a completely different matter. I realise this is blatantly racist at times. There is a level of prestige to speaking like English is your first language.
When I return to South Korea, I experience so many people poking at me, asking me to speak English. Although it is rather embarrassing, I do so, and all of them gush at my pronunciation. Not my word choices, not my grammar, but how I pronounce and articulate words so easily and smoothly. Often times those people are perfectly capable of speaking English themselves, as students my age learn English to quite a high level in school, and in tutoring outside of school. The only real noticeable difference between them and I is the fact that I’m able to speak ‘good English’ with proper pronunciation, while they have a lingering accent of Korean as they speak English, thus it is considered ‘bad English’. This makes me wonder: is the level of prestige given to having a ‘good English’ accent higher than speaking Standard English?
English is owned by whoever speaks it. In the modern world, where English is used for communication internationally, it is almost a global ownership. It is strange to think about it this way, but I also hold some ownership for English, as someone who speaks English fluently almost like a first language. I am influenced and influencing these new changes in this language, as the younger generation, as well as a huge fan of technological development. Everyday words I use today greatly consists of neologisms and new technological terms. In the last 20 years, English has seen great big changes and additions. Technology has developed at a rate like never before; of course, we require new words to accommodate such uses. Words such as download – until recently, people didn’t click on the downward arrow button to save some file to their computer, or their phone. Or the word, phishing: A new term that refers to the fraudulent practise of sending emails purporting to be from reputable companies to induce individuals to reveal personal information. Many neologisms today were created on social media or made to communicate more efficiently within internet spaces, such as abbreviations. My friend and I do not only say words like ‘LMAO’ or ‘TBH’ online, but we are also accustomed to literally saying the letters in offline conversations as well. As generations emerge, as the technology develops, as English is spoken by different cultures, it is only natural that English continues to change to best fit the needs of the speakers.
A unique word I wish to share that is frequently used by myself and others would be ‘lol’. It has been a while since this word has existed, and towards the beginning, it was used quite literally to what it stands for. Laugh out loud. Usually, via texting or commenting on social media, it indicated that an individual found the content humorous and laughable. Instead of dying away and being forgotten like some other words, it has slowly changed its meaning to adapt to how people can use it. In real-life usage today, ‘lol’ holds a much more complex, implicit meaning than just funny. It can be used in situations when it is not entirely funny, the context isn’t anything really to laugh at. This interjection has many usages in daily, casual conversations. It could be added to accept a compliment without seeming too full of yourself, or to lighten the mood of a quite serious, dark sounding statement, or to simply act as a placeholder that shows some kind of casual empathy. Other abbreviations are used within the younger generation, but lol is the most popular, most commonly used one. It is interesting how it is surviving longer than some other teenage slang that has existed a few years, or even months ago, but is now viewed as old and outdated. I believe that having such an implicit, nuanced meaning behind a single word has proven itself useful, enough for it to be such a popular term.
