“It’s right hard to say,” she said. “Suppose you and Scout talked colored-folks’ talk at home it’d be out of place, wouldn’t it? Now what if I talked white-folks’ talk at church, and with my neighbors? They’d think I was puttin’ on airs to beat Moses.”“But Cal, you know better,” I said.
“It’s not necessary to tell all you know. It’s not ladylike – in the second place, folks don’t like to have someone around knowin’ more than they do. It aggravates ’em. You’re not gonna change any of them by talkin’ right, they’ve got to want to learn themselves, and when they don’t want to learn there’s nothing you can do but keep your mouth shut or talk their language.”
When I lived in Hawaii, some of my co-workers at the five-star resort were haoles born and raised in Hawaii. Most were from well-off families. When speaking with us, and guests, beautiful perfect English. Then when they had to interact with staff in Housekeeping or similar, their language morphed into 100% pidgin. I was in awe.
Written by a white woman.