MY experiences as a writer and public speaker allowed me to gain a wider understanding and interesting insight into the English language. Of course, when I write my column pieces I have to write in the format of English Language (England) and when I speak in public gatherings my words ought to match what I write. This is the standard way of “formally” doing things.

Or, as Guyanese would say, it’s “proper English.” We say this while simultaneously and unconsciously classifying our creole language as “improper.” Is this really so? The more I understand the basis of the English language, the more I question and ultimately, the more I appreciate our creole tongue.

Your English ‘A’ high school teachers might agree that English is fundamental in learning for a student to excel academically. Yes, this may be true, but your history teacher might beg to differ a bit. The basis of a language is communication and expression. Prior to arriving in the “new world,” our African and Indian ancestors were not English speakers.

Their identities and history were imprinted into their language, but there was massive denudation of it. During the days of colonialism, the white planters feared that if the slaves obtained an education, specifically learning the English Language, they would be able to understand to challenge the white planters’ intelligence which will ultimately result in more rebellions and resistance.

A google search will tell you that the official language of Guyana is English. On paper and for the sake of formality, we ought to speak the English Language. In reality, the majority of our country’s population speak something that is close to English, but it is not. Over the years, we’ve developed a creole tongue—an authentic dialect that was birthed through our country’s cultural plurality and history. We are ashamed of our creole.

We mock our creole. We toss it aside when we want to get our way in the western world and reclaim it when we seek fulfilment in the name of patriotism. I say “we,” not only to highlight our country as a collective, but to also call myself out. The majority of the time, we do this unconsciously. What else would you expect after generations upon generations were psychologically deterred from their mother tongue?

In the early years of colonisation, the slaves were unable to communicate with each other due to the language barriers between the tribes and the white planters. Nonetheless, as the years went on, they instinctively developed their own tongue—a blend of various aspects from other languages.

The irony of this dilemma is the fact that the colonisers brutally deterred the slaves (our ancestors) from their language, but along the way, they persevered and developed a new tongue (our creole) that is similar to English, but yet unique to us. The very creole tongue we tossed away is a symbol of our resilience. It paved the way for our freedom in the modern day and for that we must forever be grateful, for it was this very creole dialect that allowed the slaves to communicate, rebel and fight for our country’s independence.

I learned to embrace Guyanese creole and I want you all to do the same. I’d like to encourage you to liberate yourselves from the shackles of believing that Euro-centric ideals and norms are default and are the standard way of life.

My Guyanese tongue; your Guyanese tongue deserves more credit than it’s given. I would also like you to note that your dialect can be many things, but inferior is not one of those things. It is a weapon of fear for our colonisers, a preservation of our collective culture, an authentic symbol of diligence and most importantly—it’s a gift from our ancestors to call our own.