Butchering ‘di patwah daktah’ in defence of English
MY COLUMN last Sunday, “Dunce educators failing students,” provoked the usual hostile responses on The Gleaner’s website. “Chapter 1” posted several comments. In at least two, he branded me as “di patwah daktah.” That sick burn certainly does not mean that I’m a linguist specialising in the study of Caribbean Creole languages. “Patwah daktah” is a contradiction in terms, intended as an insult. “Patwah” is generally disregarded as the non-language of the uneducated. “Daktah,” even in the Jamaican language, is a respected professional. So a “patwah daktah” is, obviously, a ridiculous proposition. How could expertise possibly be associated with “patwah”?
The first comment by “Chapter 1” was written in both English and Jamaican. It ended this way: “Standard English is still the king of communication, nuh kiyah ho much time di patwah daktah come roun yah an ah chat tripe.” The second comment, also in English and Jamaican, is a disturbing reminder of the way in which some Jamaicans resort to violence, both verbal and physical, to settle disputes:
“She feels her end is near hence the perennial preoccupation with the patwah sinty as her contribution to nation building .
“If di patwah daktah was a ram goat I would call mi butcher man fren Tie Tie fi tekky galang ,,,,, and wouldn’t worry about payment .”
Micah James rebuked “Chapter I” for his murderous comment: “This is a meanspirited and nearly inhumane response. Your time could end before hers. Dig 2 holes my friends. 2 holes. Those of us who want patwah to be a medium of instruction are not evil or conniving. We want the same thing you want. We want children to succeed and be literate in both English and Patwah. We can disagree without being mean or evil towards each other. Evidently, our obsession with English isn’t helping with our kids at the moment. Why not try something that experts say can make a difference. I doubt we could do any worse than we are doing now. Be critical and be less horrible.”
Ironically, readers like “Chapter 1” usually resort to “patwah” as the preferred medium to express their disdain for the language. It seems as if they cannot see the contradiction. For many of them, Jamaican is actually their heart language. But they have been taught to despise it. They have so much contempt for the language that they don’t realise they are repressing an essential element of who they actually are. Mental slavery!
BOB MARLEY: ONE LOVE
A dismissive claim made about the Jamaican language is that it has no reach outside of Jamaica. This is simply not true. Nuff Jamaicans in foreign speak the language. And nuff foreigners have learned Jamaican. An excellent example is Italian reggae artiste Alberto D’Ascola, whose stage name is Alborosie. Born in Sicily, he moved to Jamaica in 2001. In a 2007 interview with Basil Walters, published in the Jamaica Observer, Alborosie declared, “Dem time deh, me did sign with Universal (Records). And I just sell everything and come to Jamaica. To get a different vibes, different life.”
The Bob Marley: One Love biopic is a classic example of the global reach of the Jamaican language. As Tom Lamont reports in his UK Observer interview with the star Kingsley BenAdir, “All of the Jamaican characters – including Ben-Adir’s Marley and Marley’s wife Rita, played by Lashana Lynch – speak to each other in patois, as they would have done in life. There will be no subtitles in its cinematic release. Instead, filmgoers not fluent in patois will be whisked along, as I was, with the help of pieces of English that are threaded through the language as well as the undeniable dynamism of Ben-Adir and Lynch.”
The concept of fluency in patois – or Jamaican, as I prefer – would be regarded as pure folly by knowit-alls like “Chapter 1.” They simply refuse to acknowledge the fact that the language should be taken seriously. They don’t realise it’s international. The decision not to use subtitles in the Marley movie confirms that many non-Jamaicans are now actually fluent in the language. When Jamaica’s first feature film, The Harder They Come, was released in 1972, subtitles were essential. Not now
FAE ELLINGTON, “DIALECT COACH”
In an excellent interview with Dionne Jackson Miller on TVJ’s “All Angles,” cultural ambassador Fae Ellington talked about her role as a “dialect coach” on the movie. That is the standard term in the industry. But, in our context, “language coach” would be more appropriate. Jamaican is not just another regional dialect of English. It’s a distinct language.
Fae acknowledged the important role the Jamaican Language Unit (JLU) at The University of the West Indies, Mona played in the making of the film. Dr Joseph Farquharson, head of the Unit, and his team taught the other language coach, Brett Tyne, the official writing system for the Jamaican language. And she taught Ben-Adir. Fae argued that if they could learn the writing system, “Yu see why the Ministry of Education need fi know seh dem can teach it inna school!”
Literacy in the Jamaican language is now on the primary school curriculum. The language is no longer undervalued as a purely oral means of communication. But the implementation of the new policy is another matter. Over a decade ago, the JLU initiated a successful pilot programme in bilingual education led by the former head, Professor Hubert Devonish. Primary textbooks were translated into Jamaican using the official writing system. Teachers were trained and their students learned to read fluently in both English and Jamaican. The curriculum materials were deposited at the Ministry of Education. What has become of them? Nothing much, it seems.