Introduction
Children have already begun to communicate with the people around them before they learn their first word. And when they do begin to speak and listen, they do so in the context of existing social relationships which are vital for their developing self-identity. Learning to use language means using it to relate to the people who matter, and this means being sensitive not only to what is said, but how it is expressed and the effect it has on the people who hear it. In the earliest years of life, of course, relationships with parents and immediate family are the strongest influences on language behaviour; later on, relationships with others, like friends and teachers, may become important.
The acquisition of a first language is the acquisition of a particular kind of social experience. And even within one small nation like Britain this experience is open to enormous variety. Factors such as the familyâs geographical and social background and the strength of different social relationships which are formed in the community determine the kind of English (or other mother-tongue) that we acquire and the ways we will use it. What is more, such social factors not only determine the ways we speak, they influence our attitudes to the ways other people use language and inevitably our feelings about the speakers themselves.
There is nothing new in pointing out that English is spoken in many different ways, or that âit is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making some other Englishman despise himâ (G. B. Shaw). What is relatively new, however, is the realization that attitudes to language variation are a controversial educational issue.
If in the past there was very little educational debate about language variation, this was because interest in regional accents and dialects of English in schools was almost entirely concerned with how to eliminate them and assert the supremacy of the âQueenâs Englishâ, which was assumed to be the only language appropriate for educational endeavours. As this assumption, like many other conventional wisdoms, has been questioned now by many people involved in education, those concerned with classroom practice have had to ask themselves: if what was going on wasnât right, what should be done instead? Faced with this problem, the classroom teacher will find few ready answers. The less value-laden accounts of language variation offered in recent years by linguists like William Labov (1972) do not, in themselves, generate a school language policy.
In the gap between theory and practice which quite clearly exists in this area, enormous confusion has arisen. This reveals itself in many ways; in misconceptions about the nature of language variation, what it means in terms of childrenâs experience in their school and elsewhere in their community, how it affects teachersâ attitudes and how it relates to justifiable educational aims and ideals. One of our concerns in recent years has been to collaborate with teachers in exploring and classifying the practical classroom implications of language variation (see, in particular, Mercer and Edwards, 1979). Our intention in this chapter is to set out some kind of conceptual framework for handling the issues involved.1
Our discussion in this chapter rests on the truth of certain statements about language and education which we feel have now been sufficiently well established to be taken as given. One is that there are no âprimitiveâ or âinadequateâ languages or language varieties; if the speech of any social group is regarded as âinferiorâ, this is understandable in terms of the social status of that group and the social values of society, not through linguistic analysis. The other is that educational values, and not least those implicit in the âhidden curriculumâ of daily classroom life, inevitably reflect the broader social values and established interests of the dominant social groups or classes of society. This does not mean that we think that education cannot be a force for social change, as we believe it can and should generate a basis for constructive social criticism. Any useful discussion of language variation and education, however, must take account of the real constraints within which teachers and schoolchildren operate. What we intended to do here, working from these basic assumptions, is to look at the nature of language variation itself, to consider its implications for social life in and out of school, and to try to interpret these implications in terms of classroom practice.
The nature of language variation
The kinds of language variation which concern us most here are four: language, accent, dialect and register. Variation in terms of different languages is, of course, the most obvious of these to appear to present educational problems. If a child at home speaks a mother-tongue very different from the language at school, then a teacher might well expect this to create communication problems of a different order than for children speaking the same language in and out of school. The problems of bilingual children are, however, relevant to us here in that these problems will not be entirely, or even predominantly, linguistic. The language of their home, and the culture of the ethnic group of which they are members, will itself have a status or value in society, and they will be aware of this. Although our discussion will mainly focus on variation within the English language, many of the points we raise will have equal relevance to bilingual children in British schools.
Accent refers to the different ways people pronounce the same language. (This may involve differences in intonation patterns and rate of speech, as well as the pronunciation of specific words.) Everyone has an accent of some kind; if we say that someone from Durham has âlost his Geordie accentâ we really mean that he has found another one â probably the non-regional âBBCâ accent known as RP (Received Pronunciation).
The term dialect refers to the natural variation in grammar and vocabulary that exists between local forms of the same language in different regions, or as spoken by different social groups. Of course, different accents and dialects do âgo togetherâ, but they are not inevitably and inseparably combined. The whole of a BBC news bulletin could be read out in a broad Geordie, Belfast or Cockney accent, while remaining in the same Standard English dialect in which it was written. Likewise, one could, in the pursuit of eccentric art, read out the dialect poems of Robert Burns or Linton Kwesi Johnson in an RP accent â they would still contain lowland Scots or Creole words and constructions.
The fourth kind of variation is that in terms of register. By this we mean the different kinds of language which are conventionally used in different kinds of social situations.2 The relative formality of an occasion, for example, usually influences the kind of language used. In formal public meetings it is normal to hear people saying things like: âWith all due respect, Mr Chairman, I feel it is necessary to point out that this is not the case âŚâ In a discussion amongst friends in a pub, that kind of language would, to say the least, seem odd. You might, however, hear someone say: âWhat? You must be nuts if you believe that. Shut up and listen for a change âŚâ
Both of the above examples are, of course, Standard English. They might well be both uttered by the same speaker in the same day, as we all vary our style of speech quite dramatically depending on where we are, who we are talking to, and our purpose in doing so. The examples represent different registers, and all speakers possess a repertoire of such registers or styles. This is really a kind of language variation that occurs within any one dialect. (Speakers may, of course, feel it appropriate to change dialects, too, according to social circumstances, but if they do they are making a rather different kind of linguistic choice â one more akin to choosing which language to use in bilingual company.)
We have tried to distinguish accent, dialect and register variation not for the sake of pedantry, but because the definition of educational policy on language variation has been beset by confusion about these kinds of variation. A teacher, concerned about âlanguage standardsâ, might object if a pupil responded to the question âWhatâs wrong with you today, Mary?â with the statement: âIâm bloody knackered, Miss!â If she did object, however, this would be an objection to the pupilâs choice of register (one suited to informal conversations amongst familiar people of equal status), not to her dialect (which in this case, as Peter Trudgill has pointed out, is perfectly consistent with the rules of Standard English). If, on the other hand, a Cum-brian pupil replied: âIâs badly today, Missâ, then the teacherâs response would depend on whether or not she wanted to hear Cumbrian dialect spoken in her classroom.
Of course, register, accent and dialect changes may co-vary in practice to a large extent. For many children, the speech of their playground and community will not only be a regional dialect, it will involve registers in which language is less formal, less explicit and no doubt more profane than in the classroom. And although it complicates matters somewhat, we have to recognize that children may choose to use a ânon-standardâ dialect in class for the same reasons that they might deliberately choose an inappropriately informal register â to put âsocial distanceâ between them and their teacher, to appeal to the solidarity of their classmates and to show disrespect for the formality of school. Speech in any dialect can, of course, be as explicit or formal as the occasion demands, as demonstrated by dialect poetry and by examples like the Northamptonshire teacher who gives complete lessons in the local dialect.3 Children whose native dialect is Standard English all acquire informal registers, and even BBC newsreaders are reputed to be both casual and profane conversationalists on occasion!
Confusion about accent, dialect and register variation is common. The earlier writings of Basil Bernstein reveal that he wasnât sure which kind of variation he was concerned with, and the same applies to some of his critics. Eventually, however, it seems he decided he was definitely not talking about dialect variation and was perhaps talking about register.4 Although only recently published, the HMI Secondary Survey (DES, 1980) unfortunately seems to add to the chaos in this area. Consider the following paragraph from the survey report, headed âSome general observationsâ, on spoken language in the classroom.
On the whole, there was a gap between the language of the teacher and that of the pupil, and this is not a new phenomenon. Most of the language of classroom talk and of textbooks was in standard English, and it was a part of the concern of teachers to help pupils to acquire this form of English through talking as well as through the related activities of reading and writing. The best teachers were sensitive to differences in language and led their pupils discreetly and by a variety of means towards a wider range of language use and a surer command of language itself. Very occasionally, a teacher adopted features of the language of pupils, and superficially this enhanced social relations. But there was ample evidence of pupils making it quite clear that they recognized this as a device, and that the cost of it in terms of setting a positive language example was high. Perhaps the most encouraging example to any teacher who was anxious to maintain linguistic standards came from a young teacher who intimated that her colleagues regarded her way of talking as âposhâ. Yet she conducted one of the most successful discussion lessons seen in that school, with a group of pupils generally regarded as difficult and uncooperative. She did so without abandoning her normal manner of speech, and the class was not in any way alienated.
(Chapter 6, p. 99)
In these comments the inspectors confuse two entirely different propositions â that RP accented standard English should be promoted in schools at the expense of other dialects, and that a basic aim of education should be to develop âa surer command of language itselfâ. But there is also a much more worrying hidden message here, which to expose fully we must consider the research of social psychologists Giles and Powesland (1975). They have commented on the fact that peopleâs accents and dialect (which together Giles and Powesland term speech style) are not entirely static; we may vary our accent depending on who we are speaking to and the kind of relationship we wish to establish with them. When two conversationalists are mutually concerned to establish a good social relationship, they often modify their speech style towards that of the other to some extent; this is called convergence and can be seen as a dynamic paralinguistic method of expressing mutual respect. To avoid doing this, or to actually diverge from the speech style of a fellow conversationalist (i.e. make oneâs accent less like his than would otherwise be the case), is often used as a way of putting âsocial distanceâ between one speaker and the other â perhaps because the latter, and his speech style, is perceived as unattractive or as having lower social status by the âdivergingâ speaker.
The inspectors are clearly implying that teachers should avoid speech style convergence, but that pupils should be encouraged to converge on the style of their teacher. Look at the value-laden terms they use to describe this perfectly normal feature of conversational interaction; it only happens âvery occasionallyâ, and it only âsuperficiallyâ enhances social relations. Moreover, pupils recognize it as âa deviceâ, and it exacts a high cost âin terms of setting a positive language exampleâ. (One would be interested to see the âample evidenceâ for the pupilsâ dismissal of this in the way that the inspectors claim, as evidence of that kind is notoriously hard for social psychologists to gather, even under controlled research conditions.)
On the other hand, the teacher who steadfastly maintains her RP accent (âposhâ even to her teaching colleagues) is applauded simply for doing so and is singled out as âthe most encouraging example to any teacherâ! We are not suggesting that this teacher should self-consciously change her natural accent towards the regional variety of her pupils (accent convergence is not, normally, a self-conscious act); patronizing histrionics of that kind would help nobody. The distressing implication of the inspectorsâ comments is, however, that teachers should by their own speech behaviour, and by their response to pupilsâ speech, seek to make their pupils feel they and the speech style of their community are of lower status and generally inferior to the teacherâs own self and speech style as an âeducated personâ.
In order to conclude this part of the discussion, and to prepare for a consideration of other, policy-related issues, we will try to make clear our own position on language variation and language development in school. If a teacher who wishes to âset a positive language exampleâ and âpromote language developmentâ means by this helping children to learn how to convey ideas, concepts, facts and feelings in language which is clear and elegant as the occasion demands, then he or she is quite proper...
