There's been an ongoing conversation about the usage of black slang(like "fam" and "woke") by non-black people, and I was wondering what is your opinion on it? Is it okay to use slang/vernacular from a culture that isn't yours? I'd never thought about where I get the words I use before, but now I wonder whether the slang I've subconsciously learned on Internet is cultural appropriation.
Iâm sure I donât have the answer on this, and Iâd love to hear from @allthingslinguistic and @superlinguo, as theyâll have a better idea how academic linguistics weighs in on this.
One thing to keep in mind throughout the following discussion: No one owns a language.
Language is a tough nut to crack because it simply is. The natural languages on Earth werenât created by any one personâor any group of peopleâand they simply evolved into different forms, with no cutoff between one language being one thing (e.g. Old English) and then something else (e.g. Modern English). If you want a very cut and dried example of appropriation and its effects, thereâs a wonderful (and short) example in the movie Bring It On (the cheerleading one starring Kirsten Dunst).
For those who havenât seen it, Kirsten Dunst plays a white cheerleader at a high school in San Diego. Eliza Dushku plays a new recruit who transfers from a school in LA. On viewing their practice Dushku calls out Kirsten, saying that all of their routines have been stolen from a black cheerleading squad at a high school sheâs familiar with in Compton. Kirsten is unaware of thisâas is everyone on the teamâbecause itâs their coach that stole the routines and presented them as something new and original. Once they realize thisâand meet the squad theyâve unwittingly disenfranchisedâthey determine to create new original routines.
This is a handy example because itâs nice and neat: The white group stole something from the black group that the white group would not have come up with on their own. Furthermore, the theft is demonstrably detrimental, as the white group is at a school famous for its cheerleading which has a lot more visibility on the national stage, so theyâre a shoe-in for competitions; the black group is not. Also itâs very clear that the white group itself isnât at fault: there was a single person at fault (the coach), and the group was unaware. Making things even better, once the group is made aware, they make the conscious decision to abandon the stolen routines, and even manage, via their status, to raise the visibility of the disenfranchised group, allowing them to compete on the national stage (and, as I recall, they win, tooâthe group from Compton).
Now letâs move back to language. Part of what makes language muddy and situations like the one in Bring It On simple is everything can be identified in the latter: The group from Compton created the routines; one single person was responsible for stealing the routines; it is easily demonstrable that the theft benefits the privileged group and disenfranchises the original creators. With language, itâs rarely ever clear who invented what. Itâs also rarely ever clear who was responsible for a linguistic element moving from the in group to the out group. Itâs also near impossible to say what the damage is when some word or phrase moves from one group to another. Only one thing is clear: Everyone is Kirsten Dunst in this scenario. Language comes and you use it. You donât know where it came from or why: Itâs just there.
Take the examples you listed aboveââfamâ and âwokeâ, or another one of my favorites, âbaeâ. No one can say where precisely they came from, but I can tell you this: If you know those words it is already too late. Theyâre out. Theyâve hopped the fence. No one can control them anymore. This article cites a website that tracks the use of words in rap songs, and it claims that âbaeâ has been showing up in rap songs since 2005.
Let me say that again: In rap songs. Published rap songs that anyone can listen to. Unless the first rapper to use it in a song actually invented it, it seems likely that the word was already in use and had spread quite a bit. If it started out as a regionalism, it was now a colloquialism. When it gets to a popular medium like music, though, itâs likely that someone will hear it and not know that it started out as a regionalism. If you hear a word you donât know all you know is that you donât know it. Once you know it, though, you can use it. And unless someone specifically tells you not, you will.
Now, when can someone tell you not to use a word? Thatâs an interesting question. I always rely on the general tenet that one shouldnât make fun of or disparage others. If it can be demonstrated that using a word does precisely that, intentionally or unintentionally, thatâs reason enough to tell someone not to use a word (ahem, Washington football team). Furthermore, these things can be successful. Stewardess is one example (a gendered and, given the associations, a somewhat disparaging word). When I was growing up, everyone used it. Now no one does: Everyone uses flight attendant. I donât know how it happened, but it did, and it was damn effective. Same thing happened with gyp (meaning to cheat). I used this all the time as a kid, because I learned it and used it. Everyone did. I had absolutely no idea that âgypâ was short for âgypsyâ, and that the etymology was âto behave like a gypsy towards someoneâ. If youâd asked me then, I probably wouldâve thought you spelled it jip, because institutional racism against the Roma people is so much more prevalent in Europe than it is in the United States. When someone finally told me that thatâs where that word came from, I was shocked, because the notion is so remote to most Americans. But I did immediately stop using it. And Iâve noticed itâs simply not common anymore, which is a good thing. Iâm in California, so I canât speak for the rest of the US, but I donât see it a lot online, either.
These movements can also be overt, and can often be effective. When I was in high school, âgayâ as an insult was extremely common. There were groups that actively campaigned against that, though (as a basketball fan, I loved that this commercial was played regularly during games), and, YouTube comments aside, itâs been pretty effective. âGayâ as an insult is nowhere near as common as it was. In short, if itâs a societal push, you can actually banish words from the lexicon.
Back to the question that opened the previous paragraph, should we not be using âbaeâ? Tough to say if itâs hard to say who âweâ is. That is, using âgayâ as an insult is clearly disparaging to homosexuals. Using âbaeâ for oneâs significant other, though, doesnât really disparage anybody. That is, unless one is using the word to mock a hypothetical black user of the word, in which case the message shouldnât be donât use âbaeâ, but rather, uh, donât mock anyone for the way they speak. When it comes to teasing people for comedy, theyâd better be on even footing with you (so itâs just as likely that they could be teasing you), and you shouldnât ever mock something someone has absolutely no control over, such as the circumstances of their birth, the color of their skin, or the way they speak their own language.
This should, in my opinion, take precedence over trying to puzzle out who came up with which word, and whether or not one is sufficiently a part of a given group to use it. Especially in casual usage, itâs not clear what advantages a non-black English speaker is gaining by using a word like âbaeâ that a black English speaker is missing out on. Being a rapper paid to use language is one thing; being a person with a Tumblr is another.
Also itâs important to separate vocabulary from grammar. AAE isnât just a set of vocabulary: Itâs a distinct and consistent way of speaking the English language. One can use a noun or two without coming anywhere close to trying to use AAE.
Also when it comes to vocabulary itâs important to have a bit of perspective. Words like âfamâ and âwokeâ and âbaeâ are quite new in the general public consciousness. They may be here to stay; they may not. Other words from AAE and elsewhere have come and gone, and others have come and stayed, but no one is complaining about those that have stayed. For example, both âold schoolâ and âback in the dayâ are from black Englishâand fairly recently, tooâbut they are absolutely a part of English now. You canât even say âback in the old daysâ or âway back whenâ anymore without it sounding folksy. I knew âback in the dayâ had moved into common parlance when I met my wife @thisallegra who used it all the time, but who apparently had no idea it came from black English (I, of course, remembered it from the song, which is the first place I heard it, since I listened almost exclusively to rap between 1991 and 1994). If she was just using it without any idea that it should be tagged as a regionalism, it was already on its way to becoming standard English.
I do have a theory as to why it stuck around, though, and thisâll take me to âbaeâ. âBack in the old daysâ has always suggested old-timeyness. You could say it, and it conveyed the same meaning, but it carried a sense ofâŚnot disparagement, but non-seriousness with it. That is, if you say âback in the old daysâ, you can expect whoever youâre talking to to take what youâre saying with a grain of salt. Thereâs actually no such judgment with âback in the dayâ. If anything, it suggests reverence. I donât recall any such expression that existed before that (or nothing as compact), meaning that the expression filled a gap: It was useful. Thatâs why it made the jump.
And that brings us to bae. The most common way to refer to oneâs significant other is âboyfriendâ or âgirlfriendâ. These are gendered terms. Of late, weâve been pushing to find non-gendered terms for roles and words that, previously, have been gendered. What doe sone do for âboyfriendâ or âgirlfriendâ? Whatâs English got? Significant other? Too clunky. Boyfriend or girlfriend? Iâve seen it (e.g. âDo you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?â), but itâs both clunky and exclusive (it refers to someone that is either male or female and thatâs it). S.O.? Iâve seen it, but itâs not common. Baby? Still reads as female, most of the time (one of the many words that isnât gendered but still has de facto gender coding). So what else is there? Using someone like honey? Too specific.
Think about it. This was a pretty serious gap in English. We just didnât have a good word to refer to a significant other without referring to their gender. Pretty lame. English speakers the world over have had ample opportunity to come up with something to fill this gap. No one did. Until bae.
Is it any wonder that people everywhere are using âbaeâ now? It seriously codes as completely gender-irrelevant. Itâs pretty useful that way (e.g. Iâve seen that meme where it says âwhen youâre waiting for bae to text you backâ, and it can pair with any image, regardless of gender. Itâs great!). And my read on it (feel free to comment) is that there is absolutely no default gender for âbaeâ. Itâs not a term that mainly refers to men that can be used for women, or vice-versa. You can use it to refer to any person who identifies as any gender. Far from worrying about whether or not we should use it on account of cultural appropriation, we should find the person(s) who invented it and give them a damn medal. Since itâs language, though, weâll likely never know.
So, long answer to a short question, this is about where I land on the issue. Ask yourself: Am I actively disparaging or mocking someone by using a particular word? If not, does the word ultimately derive from a slur or insult? If not, am I capitalizing on someone elseâs work and benefitting from it? If not, am I misrepresenting myself and the way I ordinarily speak? If the answer to all those questions is ânoâ, you should be good. Thatâs my 2¢. I look forward to hearing what others in or adjacent to linguistics have to say.