On Me and My Accent

Back in the day when I used to live in Virginia I had no accent.

It was just one of those things I always wondered about.  No one who grows up where I did would have an accent, and people from other places would even say... "Hey no one here seems to have have an accent."  In fact, people who moved there that did have twangs, long vowels, and all the other trappings of foreign, quickly lost them.  I used to refer to it as the place where accents go to die.

I think it was a mixture of having lived near a military base where lots of different ways of talking quickly homogenized, and being in a middle state along the coast.  Far enough from the North to avoid the Clam Bakes and Blizzard, while also being far from the "Real" South to avoid the banjo's and in-breeding.  We were what Goldilocks would refer to as "Just Right."

And it was always something of a treat to listen to my mother talk to her family, since she would let out the "Ya'll's" and "Aint's" and any other word you could imagine suddenly take on a drawl.  Dad also wasn't immune to this phenomenon.  Get him around his family or give him enough drinks and suddenly it was like I was in the middle of Brooklyn and 5 seconds away form being yelled at for blocking the sidewalk.

Having no accent also used to leave my sister and me with something of a small gift.  When we talked to people who did have thick accents we very quickly found ourselves matching their verbal gymnastics during the conversation but could never produce the effect on command.  I know my voluntary attempts at an accent normally sound somewhere between a scottish and british hybrid who had been drinking too much.

So after having lived in Texas for a while, I was amazed at how little accent I had accumulated, cuz you know, it's Texas.  But up until around 2003-2004, about when I got a job as a phlebotomist (meaning I took people's blood), I suddenly developed something hickish.

At first, it was only when I was coming at people with a needle in hand.  I guess subconsciously I thought I would be less intimidating if I sounded like I could name every cousin, aunt, uncle, 2nd cousin, dog, and truck in my family.  And it seemed to work, people would relax and let me do my job once I started talking about how "Mama is a nurse, and makes the best Apple Pahs, and boy does she love her tea.  Yes Ma'am she does."  And it would just roll off the tongue as natural as if I had done it all my life.

But the longer I held that job the more the "yup" and "ya'll"started to become commonplace in my speech.  Even 5 or so years after quitting that job, when I get tired or drunk I'll start drawing out my A's and I'll hear myself do it and try to reel it back in, but by then it is normally too late.  Someone will be all:

"What did you just say?!"
"Um, I said it looked nice."
"No.  No you didn't.  Say it like you said it just now"
"I don't wanna..."
"Say it!"
"Ugh... That shure looked nahs"

And they'll laugh and say: Awe you have an accent!  And I'll shudder and die a little inside.

But it really isn't all bad.  When it does come out, it still tends to have a desired effect on complete strangers.  People are more likely let down their guard to carry a conversation with me, and a cold personality quickly warms if I need some assistance, and some will smile a little wider when I say "Thank ya so much shug" (Translated as "Thank you so much sugar").

So it isn't a complete burden, and I'm glad I have it even if it does sound a little odd to me sometimes.   Besides, doesn't saying "Oh My Gawd Ya'll!" with a completely straight face just completely explain how excited I am?