A few years ago, I boarded a plane heading to a small American college-town. It was my first time in the United States, and I was starting my freshman year at a prominent institution of higher learning I will call Undisclosed University. I had traveled from my country of birth to Chicago, where I spent a week with a former classmate, before heading down South.

I am originally from a Muslim country. I’d lived in the UK before, and had traveled extensively throughout the world, but the US had hitherto been something of an enigma to me. I was incredibly excited at the prospect of spending the next four years of my life at one of the U.S.’s premier institutions. I remember sitting at O’Hare, waiting to board my flight. At one point, I asked one of the airport staff as to the reason for the seemingly unending delays. The staff member in question happened to be an African-American. As much as I tried to decipher his response, it was completely beyond my grasp – his manner of speech was completely unfamiliar to me, and took me by surprise. I had never before interacted with an individual who spoke what I would later learn to be Ebonics, or African American Vernacular English. At first I assumed that it was a regional American accent, and was surprised to discover its racial history. Over the coming four years I would learn that the colour of one’s skin determined a whole lot more than merely a way of talking. Read More »