Or even the accent of a junior linguist, such as myself.
You may find out more than you want to know.
A reader writes:
Dear Jimmy,
You are driving me crazy!! I know that you are a very literate person and pronounce other languages correctly, so why do you refuse to pronounce your “ing’s” at the end of your words instead of you just saying “in”!?
You’re drivin me crazy!!
The phenomenon you’re referring to is commonly referred to as “g-dropping” or “dropping your g’s”, though this is actually a misnomer. There is no /g/ sound in the suffix “-ing.” What we actually do when making the distinct “-ing” sound is say /in/ except we touch the back of our tongue to our velum (the soft flap of skin at the backs of our mouths) instead of touching the tip of the tongue to the ridge behind our teeth.
The thing is, “g-dropping” is an extremely common feature of the speech of English-speakers. Everybody does it to some degree, and it’s more common in some accents (pronunciation schemes) than others. One of these is the English country aristocracy’s accent. It’s also common the American Southern group of accents, which can be quite distinct: Someone from the Tidewater area of Virginia will sound very different from a Cajun, who will in turn sound different than an Appalachian.
My own accent tends to be Texan (more East Texan than West Texan), with admixtures of Ozark hill accent elements, and I do drop my g’s.
Sorry, that’s just the way I talk.
I take pride in it.
When I’m speaking someone else’s language, I make every effort to adopt their phonology, even if it means I have to practice really hard to learn to make sounds that English doesn’t use (like the Hebrew /r/, which is made at the back of the mouth, or the Arabic /gh/, which is a kind of throaty noise that sounds like a trilled /r/.)
But when I speak my own language, I use my own accent.
People make fun of my accent at their peril. (Remember that when using the comments box, below.)
Here’s a page that has a really interesting section on “g-dropping.”
You may also notice something else I tend to drop other word-final sounds when I talk. For example–like my relatives and co-regionalists–I tend to say kep’ instead of kept and an’ instead of and.
There’s actually a rule for what sounds get dropped, and I recently found out what it is: In simplified terms, a word-final stop tends to get dropped if it is preceded by a consonant with the same voicing.
Lemme ‘splain:
Certain consonants are called “stops,” because they stop the flow of air coming through your mouth. /t/ and /d/ are two examples of stops, and you’ll notice I tend to drop those a lot when they are word-final (i.e., at the end of a word).
They get dropped when immediately before them there is a consonant that has the same voicing they do.
“Voicing” refers to whether you have your vocal cords turned on or off. Some consonants we make with our vocal cords turned off (like /p/ and /t/) and other consonants we make with our vocal cords turned on (like /n/ and /d/). To see what I mean, put your hand on your throat and say those four sounds. You’ll feel vibration with /n/ and /d/ that you won’t feel with /p/ and /t/. That vibration is produced by you turning your vocal cords on as you say the sound.
Thing is, people with my accent will tend to drop a stop consonant at the end of a word if it is preceded by a consonant with the same vocal cord status.
For example, since /p/ and /t/ are both “unvoiced” (i.e., vocal cords off), I will tend to drop /t/ at the end of a word when it is preceded by /p/. That’s why I say kep’ instead of kept.
Simialrly, since /n/ and /d/ are both “voiced” (i.e., vocal cords on), I will tend to drop /d/ at the end of a word when it is preceded by /n/. That’s why I say an’ instead of and.
Similar rules (and even much more complex ones) govern every accent, and people internalize them without even realizing it. It takes the professional activity of linguists to tally up the data and figure out the unconscious rules that govern the pronunciation schemes we call accents.
Ain’t phonology a hoot?
Dear Jimmy–
Okay–at the risk of throwing gas on the fire:
All fine with me (I love regionalism in all its blessed forms) but none of what you write justifies using “don’t” when you mean “doesn’t”. (Or do it?)
–Chris
Jimmy,
Since I’m a fellow language dork, and am also very interested in accents, I thought I’d drop you a line on one tiny error I’ve heard you make on Catholic Answers Live. The Arabic word jihâd is classicaly pronounced with an initial “j” (/d3/) sound, not a zh (although it is pronounced thusly in large parts of North Africa west of Egypt). So saying “zhihad” makes you sound either Maghribi or, well, French. : )
Keep up the good work,
Bill Walsh (who studied Egyptian colloqual, where jîm is usually pronounced “g,” though not usually in religious terms like jihâd.)
p.s.
My Mom’s a (senior) linguist…
-C
Jimmy, is your surname pronounced like “achin'”?
Jimmy,
I gotta admit, coming from the PNW, (Jerry sounds just fine )….the dropping g’s has been a little more noticable lately.
“Sorry, that’s just the way I talk.
I take pride in it.”
That dudn’t sound like a ‘pology!
Chris: It do, though the relevant considerations pertain to dialect rather than accent.
Bill: Thanks. The word “jihad” is one whose pronunciation I have questioned. One Arabic reference work I have suggests that the letter jiim is always pronounced /zh/, but Arabic pronunciation varies so much from country to country that I’ve never been sure about this with regard to “jihad.” What I really need to do, since my modern Arabic pronunciation is Syrian/Lebanese, is go to my Maronite Catholic priest friend and ask how he pronounces the word and then do that.
Phil: My name is pronounced “ay-kin,” as in “making” with the “m” and the “g” dropped.
Mel: It ain’t!
Jimmy,
That reference work is mistaken. The standard is /j/ (though it hearkens back to proto-Semitic /g/, according to most linguistic theories). One sign that it’s been this way for a long time is that Persian, which does contain a differentiated consonant /zh/, needed to add a letter to the Arabic alphabet to represent it. It’s a rây with three dots (à la thâ’) over it (à la zây). Just as with /p/ and /ch/ which are differentiated consonants in Persian, but not in Arabic.
Here are the Persian letters, just FYI: ژ (zhe), پ (pe), چ (che). Sorry they’re so small. Either crank up your font size on the browser or cut ‘n’ paste into a Unicode-compliant text editor.
Keep up the great work and
يرحمكم الله
!
Oh Heavens, keep up the colloquialisms! I dropped saying “wicked” when I moved to Jersey because I was teased so much. So when I moved back to New England, the first thing I did was to pick up “wicked” again to express just how wicked awesome the colloquial use of “wicked” is! That said, and to use non-linear thought, the Jersey accent is weird and it *does* sound odd when one uses “don’t” rather than “doesn’t.”
However, I wonder if you, erm, don’t use it more when you’re attempting to really make a point. Does the use of “don’t” actually serve as a strengthener, rather like throwing in a word in a different language, or in this case in a different dialect?
I’ve a friend who does something similar unconsciously. She’s been teaching in Raleigh for the past several years, and whenever we speak on the phone and she comes to speak of something passionately (e.g., her students and their shennanigans), she slips into what can only be described as a “Mama’s Gonna Whup Yo’ Hide, Boy!” (which is ironic, because she’s a very white Irish lass, but she’s been surrounded by those wonderful ladies down there, so…).
Wicked cool article, anyway!
Thanks, Emily. I’m a firm believer in the contribution that regionalisms make to a language. I wasn’t aware that “wicked” as in “wicked cool” wasn’t used in Jersey. I thought it was used everywhere these days (I use it myself).
I must confess that I’m not aware of myself using “don’
t” for “doesn’t” very often. Perhaps this is something I do that I’m not conscious of.
As far as its use, employing it certainly can add weight to a point.
I’ve also run into it being used that way in upper class British accents. Dorothy Sayers’ character Lord Peter Wimsey frequently uses it, along with “ain’t,” though most Americans aren’t aware of the upper class British resonances of these usages.
Ah, those using “wicked” are only desiring the joys of the north east. Let’s put it this way: from the mid-80’s to the late 90’s it was verboten to use “wicked” in Jersy unless one had a tease wish.
Doesn’t Wimsey and the upper-set use it more if they’re the “up-and-coming” subvert the dominant paradigm-ish but not to the extent of getting rid of titles altogether noblemen of the 1920’s? It seemed to me an acquired thing from that time period. (Although to read the hearty and cultivated ignorance of, say, Jane Austen’s baronets, one supposes that it is a habit of longer standing. Along the lines of: I’m so high I can speech hows I wanna!)
Not sure if this question can be answered here, but! I doing a little bit of research on southern accents. I am especially interested in Virginian Tidewater accent.
Can you describe what are the attributes of this accent? Any movies I could watch that have good examples of this accent? Thanks for any help!
The tidewater accent is something near and dear for most native coastal Virginiains. In Norfolk (pronounced “Naw-Fuk”) we say “oteside” for “outside” and “abote” for “about” The most linguistically proud coastal Virginians will even say, “doantone” for “downtown” and “hoe are you.” We always say “awnt” and never “ant” for “aunt.” Mothers even tell their children, “My sister is your ‘awnt’ not your ‘ant’, for ants crawl on the ground.” Words like “favor” instead of “resemble” and “serviette” instead of “napkin” are common among older generations and even some younger people who feel it important to preserve this unique way of speaking.” Older residents with say “thea-yah” for “there” and “muth-uh” for mother. The word “pocket book” is used over “purse” and “sofa” must always be used..we never say “couch.” Some people call it a mix between Southern and British, but we just call it proper Tidewater English.
Dear Sir
I haved listened to you on EWTN Radio. I must say you do not look like your voice In fact you look more down to earth than your voice sounds or apologist are. I mean that as a compliment. As a former catholic I am surprised at the arrogant attitude of some in your line of work. What gives ?