No True Scotsman: Week 7 LJ Idol
If you were to hear me speak, rather than typing, you'd note that for an American, I don't have much of an accent. I don't drawl my words like a southerner, I don't drop my r's like someone who lives in the Northeast, I don't have a midwest twang. I don't even have a true Marylander accent - I can even say wash correctly (ask many Marylanders and they'll tell you they "warsh their clothes in wooter"). In fact, I probably sound like any other typical American besides that I don't pronounce the words "Maryland," "Baltimore," and "County" the way they were meant to be pronounced. I can easily put those three words into one true sentence for you.
"I graduated from the University of Merlin, Bawlmer Counny." (translated: I graduated from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County).
I also believe that the word aunt should be pronounced "awwnt." Otherwise you're saying ant, and my aunt is not an ant! That's neither here nor there.
You probably couldn't tell from my voice alone that I was born in Washington D.C. and raised in Maryland.
You probably also couldn't tell from my voice alone that I'm bilingual. Nothing about my accent would give that away to you.
I was born to Israeli parents and I grew up surrounded with native Hebrew speakers. Little known fact: my first word was in Hebrew and my parents didn't speak English to me until I was 3. I've spoken Hebrew my entire life and yet, I've never acquired the skill of speaking Hebrew with an Israeli accent. I'm blessed (or cursed) with my typical American accent. Growing up though, I struggled with the intricacies of the English sounds due to my parents. Until I was 10, I couldn't pronounce "birthday" correctly because "th" doesn't exist naturally in Hebrew. I sung "Happy birsday to you!" To this day, when I see a shopping cart, I refer to it as a "carriage." In Hebrew, the word "agala" can refer to a baby carriage or a shopping cart. While nothing about my accent would give anything away, speak to me long enough and you might pick up on hints that I was raised by non-native English speakers.
Interestingly enough, if you were to hear me speak Hebrew and if you're a native Israeli, it's glaring to you that I have an accent. One that probably makes me sound like the dumb American trying to practice basic vocabulary despite my fluency. My accent makes most Israelis rush to reassure me "Oh, don't worry, I can speak English." No true Israeli would sound as atrocious as me speaking the language. Some are quick to laugh at my accent. "Look at the American trying to speak our language, how cute." I get a kick out of proving people wrong because their reactions never fail to amaze me.
"How can you speak Hebrew?" I'm always asked in shock when I open my mouth to converse. When I explain that my parents are Israeli, the next question undoubtedly is "Have you lived there?" and "How often do you visit?" The shock grows when I inform them that I've never lived there and I've only been to Israel once in my life and that was on a Birthright* trip back in 2006.
But then they'll turn away from me and continue speaking amongst themselves, effectively cutting me out of conversation. Despite my language skills, I'm never truly accepted as one of them. A native speaker who converses as easily and fluently as they do with vocabulary that certainly surpasses mine. I'm never seen as one of them but as an outsider who just happens to speak Hebrew.
They have a term for people like me in Hebrew: "chetzi chetzi" or half and half. This means: A person with a mixed identity due to growing up with the influence of at least two different cultures, one of them being Israeli. Most days, I love having a mixed identity....
But some days? I wish I had that gorgeous accent and was truly accepted as one of them. Unfortunately, that will continue to be just that...a wish.
*Birthright Israel is a completely free 10 day trip to Israel for Jewish people between the ages of 18-26. I went to Israel for the first time when I was 20 years old.