I DID not pay much attention to the way I spoke, how I pronounced words, or what that said about my character until moving abroad for a while. I realised that your accent is part of your culture — it is the “tongue” of your ancestors, and the way you speak is an identity marker that helps people easily identify your origins. As a Guyanese, I’ve been labelled as a “native English speaker”. While we are fluent in English in Guyana, our accents and even the mix of Creole dialects can sometimes be difficult to understand. Does this then make us “inferior” to other English speakers? No. However, do people sometimes assume that you are? Absolutely. I have been giving it much thought lately and decided to write this column to explore these concerns further.

We often look for overt signs of discrimination. However, discrimination comes in all forms, and it is not always obvious or “loud”. In some instances, discrimination can present itself in the form of quietly “socially acceptable” thoughts and beliefs, where it can be disguised. In a way, I believe “accent bias” also shows up as a disguised form of discrimination within societies.

People would often start forming assumptions in certain settings, such as classrooms, interviews, networking events, public speaking spaces, and even casual conversations. As someone who has many international friends and colleagues, this does not only apply to the English language.

Many people from various languages and dialects also face discrimination due to how they speak or what they say. If you have an accent from the Caribbean, Africa, Asia, or even Eastern Europe, people often use it as a scale to balance your competence, abilities, and capabilities. It is absolutely horrendous to think that the quality of your debates, speeches, or statements does not matter. It is simply the “standard” English that some people consider. Imagine not being taken seriously simply for how you pronounce words.

Accent bias operates subtly. It rarely appears as outright exclusion. Instead, it shows up in interruptions, in polite requests to “repeat that”, in assumptions about intelligence, or in the quiet preference for those who sound more “standard”. It is the raised eyebrow, the slowed-down response, the unspoken doubt. And because it is so easily dismissed as a misunderstanding or a habit, it often goes unchallenged.

There is a hierarchy of accents that creates “elitism” in speech. It might sound like a “reach”, but it really is not because there is a power imbalance. Certain accents are associated with global power or dominance, such as the accents associated with former colonial dominance. These very accents are often associated with “professionalism” or “authority”. In contrast, other accents are often associated with being “different” or “difficult”. It is not by coincidence that there is a hierarchy for the way in which we speak. Have you ever considered whose words most people regard with more weight or merit in certain international settings?

The hierarchy shows whose voices are valued and whose aren’t. As an international student, I felt pressure to adapt — not just linguistically, but culturally. Code-switching becomes a survival skill. People soften their pronunciation, slow their speech, or avoid speaking altogether to minimise judgement. Over time, this constant self-monitoring can erode confidence and authenticity. What makes accent bias particularly insidious is that it is often internalised. People begin to question their own voices, seeing their accents not as markers of identity but as obstacles to overcome. In trying to belong, they are subtly taught that who they are is not quite enough.

This phenomenon requires us to recognise that communication is a shared responsibility. The burden should not fall solely on the speaker to conform, but also on the listener to engage with openness and patience. In a world that is more connected than ever, the ability to understand different accents is not a barrier — it is a necessary skill. Perhaps the real question is not why some people speak differently, but why we have been taught to value some voices over others.

Until we confront that, accent bias will remain what it has always been: a quiet gatekeeper of opportunity, hiding in plain sight.