· What patterns did you see among the Language Investigations you wrote and read?
A pattern that I saw was that many of us reflected on words or phrases that were used to connote an affectionate meaning to other family members. Also, the blogs that I read discussed how food and language intersected in her family, which was an intersection I also wrote about.
· What do these patterns reveal about language and its conventions in family contexts?
I think these patterns reveal that in the blogs I read, all three of us have words that are used to build togetherness and unity in our family ranks. Also, I think they showed that people like food.
· Thinking about these Language Investigations in conjunction with what you’ve read so far in Lives on the Boundary, what does it mean to be an “insider” in terms of language? What questions and issues do your conclusions raise for you as a future teacher?
If you know the jargon of a certain discourse, then you are "in". If you have no knowledge of the jargon of a certain discourse, then you may feel dumb or left out, when really all that is going on is that certain words (unfamiliar words) may just be standing in for other words (which are familiar to you). I think what sometimes can happen is that people are led to feel stupid when they can't understand what someone is saying, when in reality they just need to study the vocabulary. It is not that they can't learn it, so much as it is a matter of not having been exposed to it.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Investigation 1
One phrase that is used in my family, or actually it is more of an exchange than just one phrase, is “Where are you going?” to which the correct response is “Crazy. Wanna come?” This exchange which primarily occurs between my Dad and myself, originated on vacations. Its origin originated because my Dad would never tell us where we were going when we were on vacation. He always kind of sort of knew, but he just kind of told us to get in the car and the trip was a new experience from there. Anyway, I became annoyed at this practice of “let’s just trust Dad”, so I would always ask him “Hey, where are we going?”- to which he would dodge answering by saying “Crazy, waana come?”- which in retrospect truly didn’t say much for his leadership skills.
Another phrase used by my family is “Hey botchagulluppie”. No the former is not an actual word. My mother is of Italian heritage and the word “botchagalluppie” represents the Americanization of some Italian word or phrase. I have no idea what it means or may have meant at one time in Italian but in our family it means “Hello person who I am related to.” My Mom, as I have already said is Italian, her mother knew how to speak Italian, but she never spoke it so my mother never learned it. I think the Americanization of whatever the correct pronunciation of “botchagalluppie” originally was, came from my grandmother (perhaps in one of her angry tirades in which Italian words were known to appear more often than not). However, there really is no way of telling. I asked my grandmother once what the word meant and she looked at me as if I had five heads. The Americanization of the word was to such a great extent that no portion of the word resembled anything that could be characterized as Italian.
A third set of words that is found in my family is “Never ask for ketchup.” Just don’t do it. When my Dad met my Mom’s parents for the first time, he asked for ketchup with his spaghetti. Now my grandmother, as I have already said, is Italian. Thus, my grandmother made spaghetti sauce from a recipe that was handed down to her from her mother and her mother’s mother and so on. Thus asking for ketchup to put on your spaghetti, when the spaghetti has been dressed with my grandmother’s special sauce that comes from a 300 year old Italian recipe- is not a good thing. Lucky for my Dad he has a somewhat charming personality or I think his in-laws would have thrown him out right then and there.
A final verbiage of my family is “flabby Gabby”. Yes, Gabby was our cat’s official name but because flabby rhymes with Gabby, flabby Gabby became his unofficial official name. My sister took offence at this because she considered herself the cat’s mother/ protector personage, but it rhymed so the name stuck.
Another phrase used by my family is “Hey botchagulluppie”. No the former is not an actual word. My mother is of Italian heritage and the word “botchagalluppie” represents the Americanization of some Italian word or phrase. I have no idea what it means or may have meant at one time in Italian but in our family it means “Hello person who I am related to.” My Mom, as I have already said is Italian, her mother knew how to speak Italian, but she never spoke it so my mother never learned it. I think the Americanization of whatever the correct pronunciation of “botchagalluppie” originally was, came from my grandmother (perhaps in one of her angry tirades in which Italian words were known to appear more often than not). However, there really is no way of telling. I asked my grandmother once what the word meant and she looked at me as if I had five heads. The Americanization of the word was to such a great extent that no portion of the word resembled anything that could be characterized as Italian.
A third set of words that is found in my family is “Never ask for ketchup.” Just don’t do it. When my Dad met my Mom’s parents for the first time, he asked for ketchup with his spaghetti. Now my grandmother, as I have already said, is Italian. Thus, my grandmother made spaghetti sauce from a recipe that was handed down to her from her mother and her mother’s mother and so on. Thus asking for ketchup to put on your spaghetti, when the spaghetti has been dressed with my grandmother’s special sauce that comes from a 300 year old Italian recipe- is not a good thing. Lucky for my Dad he has a somewhat charming personality or I think his in-laws would have thrown him out right then and there.
A final verbiage of my family is “flabby Gabby”. Yes, Gabby was our cat’s official name but because flabby rhymes with Gabby, flabby Gabby became his unofficial official name. My sister took offence at this because she considered herself the cat’s mother/ protector personage, but it rhymed so the name stuck.
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