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As told to Veronica Wells
As a child, nothing induced shrieks of terror and soul-stirring cringes like the sound of one of my classmates running their nails across the chalkboard. These days, as an adult, it’s the sound of White-folks using Black slang or vernacular that induces that same reaction. It’s an assault to my ears. I’ve known this for quite some time now, but these days it seems like the instances of White people inappropriately or annoyingly using Black slang have become more and more noticeable.
it would be one thing if these violations were happening in the street, but quite often I’ve stumbled across them in the workplace.
A couple of months ago, I spent a solid week corresponding back and forth with a potential client, a White woman, about an advertising opportunity. Though it seemed like we were in constant communication, we were far from friendly. In fact, this woman lived across the country, I’d never seen her a day in my life and I probably never will. Still, I work for a well-known Black company and on top of that, there’s a profile picture attached to both of our e-mail accounts. Which is how she knew I’m Black and how I knew she’s White.
Anyway, by the end of our correspondence, which again was professional, not even cordial, she signed off, “Thanks gurl! :)”
I have to admit, the salutation gave me pause. I could have chalked the “u” in girl up to a typo. But that still doesn’t explain the fact that she felt it appropriate to address me, in what was supposed to be a professional e-mail as “girl…or gurl.” I couldn’t help but wonder if she did this with her White clients.
Since it was the last time I had to interact with her I let it go.
But I wish I could say this was the last time I encountered an out of touch White person trying to relate to me with Black vernacular.
My coworker Peter and I have a nice friendly, working relationship. But one day I felt like he got a little too comfortable. I met him one day at the water cooler and we discussed, as we usually do, the frustrations of the job.
“The expectations are just unreasonable,” I told Peter. “Kathy asked for the proposal with a few hours notice!”
“Girl, no, she didn’t!” Peter said rolling his neck with absolutely no rhythm.
There was that gurl/girl again.
I just froze and stared, blinking.
I know Peter, so this time I called him on it.
“Why did you say that?”
“Say what?”
“Girl, no she didn’t.”
“Oh…well…I was just trying to be funny…I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. But would you try that joke out on one of our White coworkers?”
Peter shrugged before casting his eyes down, awkwardly.
That was the end of our conversation. If it had gone on a second longer, I would have informed him that “no she didn’t” hadn’t been “a thing” since 1990.
About a month later, another male coworker, as he was packing up his work and personal phones, he sang out: “I got two phones. One for the [mumbles the lyrics he didn’t know] and one for the law.”
I can’t lie, I chuckled. But I didn’t let him see me do it. I don’t want to encourage that.
Then, as if the White folks weren’t trying it all at work, I was watching an old “Sex and The City” rerun when I heard Carrie talk about her appreciation for “ghetto gold.”
Dafuq?!
Even my home wasn’t safe. Not only is the term ghetto one that originally had nothing to do with Black folk. Furthermore, since when did a mineral become associated with a socioeconomic group or location?
I’m just over it all.
