Honest Southern Speech

Southern Dialect

“At any one time language is a kaleidoscope of styles, genres and dialects.”

David Crystal

The South, and particularly the Appalachian mountain regions of the South, have a unique dialect that is unmistakable, and sometimes incomprehensible to others. I used the dialect growing up because it was what I heard around me, and quite frankly, I love it even today. I tend to drop back into it when I want to truly express myself. For generations, people have butchered the Southern dialect, and assumed that anyone who spoke it was simply ignorant. When we want to sound stupid we pull out the “ain't” and the dropped g's and reconstructed word order, but the Southern dialect is simply one variant of American English, as are the New England and the Mid-Western dialects.

The mountain dialect that I grew up with was a combination of Elizabethan, Scottish, and Anglo-Scottish border dialects. It is as uniquely American as the Valley-speak that Californians seem to favor. When I grew up in the mountains of North Carolina, the rougher forms were common. The dropped or added R's in words such as hollow, usually pronounced “holla” if it's an empty thing, or “holler” is you mean a piece of ground between two mountains. The added R's could also show up in words such as wash, which became “warsh”. The z sound in contractions, became a dn't sound, as in wasn't to “wadn't” or isn't to “idn't”. In all Southern speech, it is common to drop the g at the end of words such as doing—doin' and going—goin'. The one I hear most here in Alabama is mixed tenses, such as seen for saw, as in “I seen him the other day.” I have to admit, that one drives me a little crazy. But there are some that I like a lot, such as adding un to pronouns and adjectives, such as “young-un” for child, or “big-un” for big one, as in “I caught me a fish! It was a big-un, too.” And, of course the ubiquitous y'all, for you all.

But when I was growing up, there were words in the lexicon that no one else used. Such things as “Afeared” for afraid, and “airish” for cool or chilly. I heard people say, “That's chancy,” meaning doubtful or risky, and “dope” for soda, as in “Bring me a dope when you come back.” A pancake was referred to as a “flannel cake” and a red squirrel as a “boomer,” and someone you don't like might be called a “peckerwood,” a “piss-ant,” or an “idjit.” That pronunciation for idiot comes directly from Ireland. “I'll be back directly,” meant, “See you later,” and a brown paper bag was a “poke.” The word, “recon”, replaced suppose, as in, “You recon we'll get some rain today?” And to carry something was to “tote” it.

The Southern dialect is hardly spoken by educated people anymore, and I'll be honest, I miss it. I love the things that make every region of this country unique. The Valley-girl dialect sounds just as dissonant to my ears as Southern speak sounds to yours, but in a good way, an interesting way. I had a friend from Massachusetts when I was a young woman, and I quickly picked up her lapsed r's and long a's. And I dare say, she learned a few new words from me. I will be glad for the day that we drop our disdain for differences and instead love and embrace them.

                                                                  Jane