The Role of Institutional Language in Elitism

Social worth must not be tied to vocabulary abilities. (Courtesy of Flickr)

The other day, I was talking to my friend and used the word “cacophony.” The term so perfectly spoke to the idea I was trying to convey that I could not help but sprinkle it into our otherwise casual conversation.

I never intend to sound pretentious. In fact, I am well aware of my own self-directed eye-rolls when an unnecessarily pompous phrase leaps off an SAT practice exam and into my working vocabulary.

But as a creative who primarily expresses herself through the written word, I am obsessed with finding the ones that help me best do so.

There is simple bliss in yielding the perfect words to describe something. However, within the context of vast educational inequality in America, it is critical to remember that a complex vocabulary does not equate to inherent intelligence, and that, in turn, being “smart” in the institutionalized sense must not dictate perceived societal worth.

It is important that we recognize how many of our accepted markers of competency — including formal or “impressive” speech — are deeply tied to structural inequity.

All words are learned. The language we generally look for in people as a sign of particular intellect is taught and perpetuated by institutions — ones that have tended to gatekeep their knowledge.

When the academic engagement that is likely to foster impressive vocabularies as we typically understand them is not accessible to all in an equal manner, it is unfair and unjust to utilize such language as a barometer of intelligence.

A university degree is undoubtedly an impressive accomplishment. There is a lot of work, dedication and skill needed for such an achievement. But one does not have to undervalue a quality education to recognize the structural ways in which obtaining it proves unequal in opportunity to American citizens.

We must work toward educational equity instead of furthering the divide through the praise of linguistic prestige.

A study, whose results have since been questioned for their sample size and racial bias, once claimed that by three years of age, there is a 30 million word gap between children from the wealthiest and poorest families.

Though these findings may be exaggerated (newer studies put the number somewhere around 4 million), the underlying conclusion remains consistent: Certain environmental and familial factors offer significant educational advantages to some children over others.

Similarly, communities in our country experience stark divides in terms of academic resources, achievement and opportunity. The effects of such opportunity gaps are continued, pervasive and widespread, especially as they pertain to how we view and utilize communicative methods.

Because of the education I have received at a private university and the coursework I have engaged with during that process, the words in my repertoire might look a bit different from others who have not had this same experience.

I may or may not be more naturally intelligent than the majority of Americans, but the language, knowledge and philosophies I have acquired during my time at a considerably expensive institution not everyone has the opportunity to attend will undoubtedly advantage me in terms of potential future successes.

To blur that reality with the rhetoric of meritocracy — that I achieved all I have simply because I decided to work for it — would be to ignore the very real systemic factors that gave me an advantage in doing so: my family’s comfortable socioeconomic status, my hometown’s well-funded and competent public schooling system and the motivated peers I was surrounded with along the way, many of whom benefitted from similar privileges.

Politicians who advocate for policies such as free public college and the cancellation of student loan debt are doing so in an attempt to shrink this discrepancy between the opportunities afforded to individuals of low-income backgrounds and those of their wealthier counterparts. When the cost of college continues to rise, the gap between who can and cannot attend only increases.

So whenever I use a high-scoring Scrabble word, such as the “cacophony” in question, I do so with the deep understanding that inherent in my word choice is an incidental intelligence-signaling that reinforces harmful notions of elitism.

Yet, I am hopelessly enticed when the perfect word is in my wheelhouse and not out of reach on the tip of my tongue.

In an ideal world, the potential to break an all-time Scrabble record would be afforded equally to all the game’s players. But because we do not live in that world, it is important that winners use their wide vocabularies to articulate why.

The English language is an ever-evolving system of communication, at once adapting with and shaping society around it. Expressions and phrases erupt out of cultural phenomena, and dialects arise within certain communities who then come to closely identify with them.

Many linguistic forms are tied to the discrimination of certain groups of people in America because of our ingrained partiality towards scholarly language.

Southern drawls are typically associated with the bumbling “hillbilly” trope, and African American Vernacular English is often disregarded as unrefined slang, despite working under formulaic rules and structures that qualify it as a grammar system unto itself.

These connections between language and the expression of classism and racism highlight the ways in which a subconscious and collective sense of elitism — which understands linguistic prestige to be synonymous with intelligence — dangerously affects social interaction.

To elevate individuals who are fluent in institutionalized language without recognizing how this ability is afforded along racial and class lines is to reinforce notions of societal worth that significantly harm certain groups in our country.

It is imperative that we begin to unravel our associations between big, fancy words and inherent intelligence for this reason.

However, it is true that what’s sometimes seen as dense and unreadable jargon can actually prove a valuable tool in advancing cultural progress on the very issues it has a hand in perpetuating. It is ironic, then, that such terminology typically stems from the academic institutions it desperately needs to be applied to.

Modern discourse allows us to talk about systemic problems — like intersectionality or white privilege — by offering us the terms to do so. But again, when these terms are only understood by a select, educated few, their ability to enact cultural progress is limited.

We must work toward a world that offers everyone the ability to find the most preposterously perfect word to describe whatever it is they want to, one in which the only way someone might have an advantage in Scrabble is if they have a pocket dictionary and far too much time on their hands.

And we must speak our way there.

 

Lindsay Grippo, FCRH 20, is an English major from Long Island, N.Y.