Thank GAWD for College!

I was going to my first fraternity house. I wasn’t in college yet, my friend’s brother was, so we were going to go see him. I worried about only knowing two people there. I worried that I was too young to be there. I worried I would spend the night up against a wall, by myself.

But then they heard me speak.

I don’t remember what I said, but before I knew it, there was a crowd of fraternity boys surrounding me asking me to, “Say something else!” because they loved “that New York accent!” Never before had I thought I had an accent, but evidently I was entertaining these boys from around the country with some sort of intonations that set them reeling with joy.

I gave them the typicals, the “tawlk” and “caw-fee” but I didn’t know what else to offer. My pseudo-celebrity status was disconcerting when even after I thought the show had ended I would catch some eyes looking at me in envy. “Am I saying things wrong?” I asked.

“No, it’s AH-some!” they would say, but I still wondered...

Years later, after spending time working in Manhattan, going to a college that was local, but attended mostly by students from all over the country, without intending to, my New York accent slipped by the wayside. In fact, I didn’t even realize it until one day I thought I’d share a video of my Sweet 16 with my boyfriend.

I thought it would be nice if he could see me on my big day.

As the video played he looked at me in horror. And I, on the other hand, couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen. I recognized the girl on the screen. I could even remember her thoughts as the images played before me, but what was she saying? The Staten Island/New York/Italian-American accent that now causes me to cringe when I catch snippets of Mob Wives or, lord help me, The Jersey Shore was coming out of my mouth.

“I will tell you right now, if you sounded that way when we met, there’s NO WAY I would’ve asked you out!” and there it was. From my boyfriend, now husband, a judgement placed on me based on the speech of my home. It was what I had expected from the strangers in the frat house, not from the man I loved.



This post was written in response to this week's RemembeRED writing prompt on the Write On Edge blog. 

This week’s RemembeRED prompt is: Write a piece of creative non-fiction in which turns of phrase, dialect, slang, or colloquialisms feature prominently.
Choose ONE moment and explode it. Please, no laundry lists of phrases. This is a memoir, not the urban dictionary.