Pretty much all of high school, my friends and I showed love by occasionally lightly ragging on each other.
“Heffa, if you don’t leave me alone, I know something..."
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“Okay, bit, but how’d you get the answer to number 5..."
“Maybe if you brushed the naps out your head, you’d know.”
It was a time when “heffa” and “ratchet” could mean “lovely”. While “nigga” or “b*tch” could mean “bestie”. Nothing was intellectualized and it was an indicator that we still cared for one another.
Now that I’m in college, it’s taboo to say those things, even among friends.
“Umm….that’s rude.”
“You shouldn’t say that. It’s offensive.”
I question the policing of that language. Who decides which words are taboo? Back home, a “nap” was just a knot of kinky hair. All Black people were bound to have them at some point. It was natural. And terms such as “heffa” or “nigga” weren’t always gendered terms.
But now, it seems that before I am a friend, I am a Black man. And my use of some terms will forever be inherently wrong and misogynistic. Are certain aspects of my past vernacular simply off limits now? To what extent does my Black maleness restrict my usage of certain words? Or were others just being overly sensitive?
This is what I began to wonder. I mean, if I have to micro-analyze each word that comes from my mouth in front of a stranger, then so be it. But to have to do that amongst friends would simply be too great of a task. I’d rather be silent. I’d rather say nothing at all.
And then I returned home for the summer. Not much has changed amongst my childhood friends. I realized that if I call my friend, “heffa”, she won’t lecture me on my own misogyny just as I won’t snap back at being called “b*tch” by her. There is no walking on eggshells to find the right words. Instead, we just go about normal conversation.
So is language and tone policing an academic thing? Is it the product of intellectualism? Who can think about their words the most to ensure that no one is at all offended?
It was then that I noticed I almost fell into what I call the Donald Trump Trap. The Ann Coulter Conundrum. The O’Reilly Ordeal. I almost turned into someone so sucked into their own self-centeredness to realize that their words were hurting others.
Because I don’t want to be the Black male equivalent of the White guy who drops the N-word because he believes everyone should be able to say it. And I don’t want to be associated with the man who refers to children as “anchor babies”.
The fact of the matter is: Language is alive. There is nothing concrete about language, as it is a tool of personal expression. It can be freeing or captivating. My college friends and I grew up in different environments and are from all over the world, so of course not everything I say or do will be 100% okay with all of them. I have to respond in a way that respects them. In a way, I’ve experienced an even higher level of code-switching. And I’m smart enough and responsible enough to put in the effort to ensure that I do check my own misogyny.
However, even with all this being said, there is a point at which I question how much can be expected of me. It is impossible to appease everyone with my words. And to an extent, insensitivity is subjective. I still have many questions as to whether it is impossible to simply have fun with language occasionally and be free of the pressure of always being purposeful with your words. And even further, to what extent does my own discomfort at having to learn to code-switch (and embrace a less familiar form of speech) matter?
Or is this just the cost of consciousness?
