After returning to NYU Abu Dhabi, I felt a bit homesick. I missed the everyday, casual and seamless shifts between English and Syrian Arabic that I experience around my family. As such, I felt compelled to walk into a Lebanese corner store during a grocery run. I immediately felt a rush of familiarity as I heard the man behind the cash register banter with other customers in a Syrian accent. When it was my turn to check out, I said “Hi” in an American accent.
The magic was lost.
I tried again by sprinkling in a few Arabic words but the damage was done. Every reply that I received thereon was brief and in English. There was a tense, formalized barrier that did not leave space for belonging. Maybe I was overthinking, but I was reminded of other circumstances where conversations were ruined because I did not sufficiently adapt my accent or dialect to the context.
Bidialectism — the ability of individuals to subconsciously switch between multiple dialects based on social expectations — is often written off as a sign of inauthenticity and societal detachment. This is because we are so used to the idea that belonging is based on similarity and that variability is deficiency. However, as the world increasingly becomes intertwined and hyper-globalized, social fluidity across regional divides is inevitable. Negative attitudes toward bidialectism need to change, because rigid boundaries of societal belonging are incongruent with an increasingly globalized world.
Being able to speak the dialect associated with a community is expected by society as a prerequisite of belonging. Bidialectism is an enigma, because it opens up the possibility that people can belong to multiple different social groups — something that by society’s definition should be based on shared, collective experiences. However, it is naive for people to hold on to this notion of linguistic singularity in society. As time passes, there is no way to avoid the “other”.
Cities are gradually becoming more multicultural with time. As this occurs, geography ceases to be the sole indicator of dominant languages and accordingly, we must deal with this spatio-cultural dissonance. Take Montreal for example: a multicultural city in a French speaking province and English speaking country. However, this linguistic multiculturalism comes at a cost: linguistic tensions, sparked around the use of informal dialects that combine French with languages such as
English, Arabic, or Haitian, make city inhabitants fear that the usage of French is dwindling over time — and subsequently, so is the French identity of Quebec. Multilingual dialects present an opportunity for minority groups to create their own sense of belonging, outside the confines of the hegemonic, regional dialects. They also allow individuals to embrace their intersectional nature. A shift in what it means to “belong” to a place over time is inevitable — we can not be global without being open to linguistic and cultural exchanges.
While multilingual dialects are stigmatized, bidialectism comes with another set of prejudices, because bidialectal people do not visibly express their belonging into different social spheres — unless they switch dialects in the moment and expose their oh-so-evident “inauthenticity”.
Unfortunately for those who sensationalize its negative impact, bidialectism is becoming a global reality. While many Arab countries have ranked “low” on English proficiency skills according to the 2020
English Proficiency Index, there are a growing number of bilingual and bidialectal Arabs, especially among the youth. “Neutral”, Americanized English accents are becoming normalized among Arab communities — often as a result of education systems — along with more traditional Arabic accented English. Despite this, westernized tongues are still a source of contempt if used in overly casual, unsuitable contexts — such as within a small, Arab grocery store. There is great selectivity in dialect acceptance, built on a fear toward languages that can threaten the integrity of what it means to traditionally belong to a community — through unique languages, locations and people. We can not ignore how colonial legacies factor into this either, as the western linguistic hegemony strongly influences what dialects are globally considered professional or erudite. Many people, thus, are quick to adopt “socially acceptable” dialects and discard their natural ones.
We can not feed into the fear of change and community erasure in a global world. When multiple languages and dialects influence and become a part of our daily lives, it feels more inauthentic to repress different parts of ourselves based on the societal expectations of a given context than to switch between dialects.
Looking back at my encounter at the grocery store, I wonder why I felt it was so important that I belonged among that specific group of strangers, when I simply could have called home and alleviated my desire to hear the language I so wanted to hear. I had fallen under the trap of trying to adjust the way I spoke in a desperate attempt to belong. In feeling shame for “ruining” a conversation, I minimized the fact that my sense of belonging was not limited to a singular socio-linguistic group.
Blaming bidialectism for erasing social purity is irrational in a world rapidly changing due to its diverse, global interactions. The emergence of bidialectal people is unavoidable. That being said, the negative mindset toward multiple dialect usage can only really change with the recognition that structural diversity within languages does not indicate language deficiency. Changing society's outlook on bidialectism starts by appreciating our own linguistic diversity and rethinking it as a reflection of a globalized world and not as an indicator of inauthenticity.
Sidra Dahhan is Columns Editor. Email her at feedback@thegazelle.org.