Code-Switching

Written By Ameilia Chung

Growing up in a bilingual Jamaican household, my use of language has always defined me. When I was 4 years old, my family and I immigrated to the United States. Shortly after I was enrolled in a school where no other kids spoke like my family, I began to speak English as my primary language.


Even though my mom and brother would speak Patois (or a mix of Patois and English) to me, I would only respond in English. One of the earliest memories I have, and something my mom still talks about, is when we were in the car listening to music, and instead of singing the song in Patois, I translated it fully into English. Being able to fully understand my native language but never speaking it has always made me feel as if I was somewhat less of a Jamaican. I could’ve easily faked an accent, but that didn’t feel right either. To me, I’d always sound like a “Yankee”.


Not only did I grow up Jamaican, but in America, many people don’t see that distinction, and as someone who is black-passing, I’m viewed as an African American, which has led to the enforcement of AAVE, or Ebonics, in my vocabulary. Having a lot of African American friends who speak AAVE has caused me to fit in a little better with the young people where I live and on social media because of how common it is in the way we speak. I do know that AAVE isn’t viewed as “proper” English or that it’s “ghetto”, so I’ve also spent a lot of time mastering how to code-switch. The way I speak to people around my age is going to be way different from how I speak to my teachers, customers at my job, and other adults in my life.


While there are some upsides to the variety of the way I speak, there have also been downsides. As a child, I struggled with other kids who would find it weird how I pronounced words because I didn’t know how to distinguish the difference in grammar and pronunciation of words between Patois and English. Not knowing how to best speak caused me to become less social, and even today, the anxiety I have speaking to people is shown.


To me, language is something that can connect people to various cultures and people around

them. I grew up in a bilingual household, but that’s not how many languages I know. I had family members and a best friend whose family could speak Spanish. Throughout the years I’ve taken the class in school, I’ve spoken it with some of my Hispanic friends. Learning Spanish has led to me being immersed in a whole other culture and even discovering that my native language and culture had a Spanish influence I never knew before. I’ve also been self-teaching myself Chinese because I’m half Chinese but never grew up with my Chinese parent or heard any of those relatives speaking Chinese. I also like to say that because I’m of Chinese-Jamaican descent and not from mainland China, the pressure on my family to speak Mandarin or Cantonese wasn’t there because of the assimilation to speak Patois.


My experiences with language have had a significant impact on how I define myself. I may not

be able to speak my native language, but I still consider it my first and primary language because it’s what I hear every day and I can still fully comprehend it. I can speak, read, and write in both Spanish and English. My ability to code-switch shows how fluid I am with the way I speak, not that I’m trying to be someone that I’m not. My Chinese isn’t the best, but it’s a difficult language to learn, and I’m trying my hardest to hold on to that part of my identity. In such a diverse world, the way I speak helps me find my place and express who I am.