A few weeks ago, I was absentmindedly sitting in a tutorial when I heard my white TA attempt to imitate ‘jive talk’. Hearing him say “yo wassup” to imitate a Black American seemingly unprompted, quickly jolted me and my class back to reality. 

Jive is a form of African American Vernacular English (AAVE) which developed during the 1930s within the flourishing African American jazz scene. It’s a beautiful collection of jargon and dialects spoken by Black people as a form of cultural expression

In spite of this, AAVE is often viewed as simply ‘improper’ English and is even a cause of discrimination. Jive as a way of speaking has a vivid history, but it was difficult to connect its origins when my visibly non-Black TA boiled it down to phrases like “yo” and “my brothas.” The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. I was rendered speechless. 

As one of the only Black students in the room, I felt like my race was presented to a room of primarily non-Black students as a racist caricature. I felt offended; this happened in an African American history course of all places. Thankfully, the TA was swiftly replaced after that tutorial, but I noticed non-Black students on campus throughout that week who used AAVE phrases like “It’s not giving” and “I’m not tryna do that,” delivered with the flair of an American inner-city kid — definitely not the quiet Canadian suburbs they are from. 

I began to wonder what exactly the difference was between the racist jive of my TA and the ‘funny’ AAVE appropriated by my non-Black peers on campus. Eventually, it occurred to me that these patterns of speech are two sides of the same coin; at their core, they are both mechanisms to ridicule Black culture, separated only by their varying degrees of subtlety.  

The past and present of Blackface
When non-Black people use blaccents by imitating AAVE in an African American accent, they typically only adopt it when they’re attempting to be funny. I find this to be quite dehumanizing, and a parallel to how blackface was used in comedic settings.
Nicole De Jesus, Varsity Contributor

In recent years, new material has emerged on the evolving form of blackface in the modern world. “Blackface” emerged in the 19th century as a minstrel performance where white actors painted their faces black to mock African Americans. While many view blackface as an issue of the past, scholars argue that it is actually still prevalent in society — only in different forms. 

American feminist writer Lauren Michele Jackson popularized the term “digital blackface” to describe the “practice of white and non-Black people making anonymous claims to a Black identity through contemporary technological mediums.” When GIFs that non-Black people use online to express their feelings are of Black celebrities, or when they represent themselves online through an emoji of a Black person, they are practicing digital blackface. 

This form of blackface can be harmful since it appropriates aspects of the Black identity — such as facial expressions and jargon — and presents it as entertaining instead of a sincere form of expression. Non-Black people turn AAVE expressions into cursory jokes, which then lose their original definitions and are eventually discarded. Popular memes depict dramatic facial expressions from Black people that perpetuate stereotypes of Black people as being hyperactive and foolish. Ultimately, this dehumanizes Black people by depicting the way we speak and express ourselves — and even the way we look — as a form of comedy. 

I believe the appropriation of Black expressions and language is epitomized in the appropriation of ‘blaccents,’ which is when non-Black people imitate AAVE while speaking. When non-Black people use blaccents by imitating AAVE in an African American accent, they typically only adopt it when they’re attempting to be funny. I find this to be quite dehumanizing, and a parallel to how blackface was used in comedic settings. 

While I can’t necessarily say that people’s accents should correlate to their race, I think there is room for critiquing switching accents for comedic purposes — especially when it’s a non-Black person adapting the ‘funny’ accent that references African American culture. 

Speaking in stereotypes

In my own personal experience, I found that there are students at U of T who shift into a blaccent around me solely for the reason that I am Black. Although I’m from Toronto and speak in a generic Canadian accent, I find that sometimes non-Black students approach me by using AAVE and asking if I listened to the latest rap album release. 

Part of me thinks that I shouldn’t be offended. There are many popular albums from Black artists and they probably asked everyone that question — plus that AAVE phrase is hip right now! 

Yet, another part of me feels that I’m being categorized and addressed based on preconceived notions about my race — I must listen to certain types of music and have a certain type of accent because I’m Black. Additionally, even if these microaggressions do offend me, I feel I can’t comment on it without seeming overly sensitive and combative. They’ll say it was just a joke and it’ll get awkward. It seems better to avoid alienating myself from my peers by staying silent. 

Non-Black students may be able to point out more aggressive examples of racism, but the smaller transgressions are always less obvious. Using Blaccents to sound funny is a prevalent microaggression on campus — to this Black person, it feels like vocal blackface. 

Nicole De Jesus is a second-year student at Woodsworth College studying history and political science. She is the head of media of Philosophers for Humanity.