Being able to code-switch is a very useful skill. A child who can unconsciously switch between different vernaculars and jargon has a brighter future ahead of them than one who can only speak one way. Even if that one way is “proper English”. Because shared language is a huge part of social connectedness.
It wis impossible to grow up in Atlanta as a black person without speaking in African American vernacular just a teeny weeny bit. My Midwestern parents don’t have AAVE tongues, though. So if we kids were in their presence and we used “be” in the habitual sense (“she be crying all the time”), we dropped verbs (“she crazy”), we lopped off the ends of words (“doh” for “door”), or we used creative words like “fitna” (rather than “fixin’”), we would be met with mild ridicule. I don’t think their ridicule did anything, though. It’s not like I use AAVE on a regular basis, but I can pull it out when I feel the need to.
Do you really think Lincoln would have been President with that nonsense?
To the OP, if you don’t correct this, your child will never be President, and will likely be a meth-head or maybe a telemarketer. Remember, more people have died from improper grammar than have died in all Vietnam Wars combined.
Call them every time —every single time— on that sort of thing, and then laziness that made them use these expressions will be replaced with the desire to avoid the extra work of restating and explaining correctly what it is they want to express.
Ask them to explain what they mean in clear English. It actually IS damned difficult to understand someone who uses these sorts of expressions heavily, and letting them know they are making themselves hard to comprehend is another way of letting them know their speech patterns aren’t helpng them.
My daughter’s friends used to start many statements and especailly questions with “Wait…”, which was very tiresome. She started to pick it up, and I stopped it by calling it out every single time.
“Wait? Wait for what?”
“Why does what you’re saying require a wait?”
“Can you say that again without the ‘wait’, please?”
She doesn’t use “wait” like that anymore, and it seems to have dropped out from her friends’ vocabularies, as far as I can tell.
Luckily, she doesn’t use “like” to mean anythng other than “prefer” or “similar to”.
I don’t let my kid get away with using words in that way; I tell her to say what means and mean what she says. And don’t use words that don’t seem to mean anything at all.
The most effective way to stop any unwanted behaviour in any child is through repeated spanking. And a taser. I don’t think anyone on this board will disagree.
I had to see a speech therapist as a child. I had a LOT of trouble with consonants. You try being named “Jeffrey” when you can’t properly pronounce a “j”, “f”, or “r” for example. Anyway, after I had graduated from that, whenever I’d say “yeah” instead of “yes”, my mom would start off with “We had to pay $5 dollars a week…” So, I learned to say “yes”.
Because when you need time to phrase your verbal question or answer – and we all do at some point – silence, or holding up a finger, is so much better? :dubious: There’s a reason every language* has common audio place-keepers such as este in Spanish, “umm” in English, etc.
I read judicial records (including transcripts of the court proceedings as well as written orders, motions, etc.) day in and day out. Even judges who are trained lawyers and write excellent orders explaining their decisions throw out some “umms” or the like (but almost never “like” to be fair) when they’re speaking from the bench.
*As I understand it, with a little hyperbole, YMMV, etc.
I’ve relayed this several times here; I grew up in SoCAl and spoke in more of a surfer’s patois, but it was just as obnoxious as “Valley Speak”. My mother basically shamed me out of it when I was about 12, and I’m mighty grateful she did. I’m sure at the time I thought she was being a witch, but the rewards far outweigh any short term offense. I’m not a big fan of *anyone’s *regional dialect / accent but that particular one especially grates on my nerves.
to be fair) when they’re speaking from the bench.