Code-Switching Surviving White Culture Not Trying to Fit in to It
The voice that sprung from my throat was unfamiliar as I introduced myself to a classroom of White students. Its tone was high-pitched and enthusiastic—a far cry from my naturally soft raspiness.
It wasn’t the first time I was unsettled by being the sole Black person in a room, but these moments had a profound effect on me. Without thought, I’d shifted my demeanor and speech. My thoughts were calculated, quickened, and in search of the “right” things to say. The words poured from my mouth pointed and stiff. I enunciated each consonant and vowel, and stressed each syllable. The production of it all, though a departure from my normal self, was seamless.
It was the first time I noticed I had code-switched.
Admittedly, I was later ashamed for abandoning my native tongue—African American Ver...