Language education-the teaching and learning of languages-is an incredibly complex undertaking, involving not just psychological, pedagogical, technological and sociocultural issues, but also ideological ones. One way in which language functions to legitimize and delegitimize groups is through linguicism (linguistic discrimination) and the concomitant ideology of raciolinguistics. While linguicism and raciolinguistics are international phenomena, both play incredibly powerful roles in the maintenance of inequality in the United States. In this article, these closely related concepts will be explored with respect to the ways in which they are manifested in world language classrooms in the United States, and an explanation for why language and language bias matter so much in the classroom will be presented.
In this article, the closely related concepts of linguicism and the concomitant ideology of raciolinguistics will be explored with respect to the ways in which they are manifested in world language classrooms in the United States, and an explanation for why language and language bias matter so much in the school context will be presented. Language education-the teaching and learning of languages, including both the student’s first language1 and any second or additional language(s)-is an incredibly complex undertaking, involving not just pedagogical, technological, psychological, and sociocultural issues, but also ideological ones. As Pentón Herrera has suggested,
we must also recognize that languages are human-made social and political objects … and that throughout history, they have been used as weapons to assert control, delegitimize, negate membership and opportunities, and disassociate groups of people who look and act differently from those in power. (2022, p. 58)
One way in which language functions to legitimize and delegitimize groups is through linguicism or linguistic discrimination2 and raciolinguistics. While linguicism and raciolinguistics are international phenomena (see Mustonen, 2021; Ndhlovu, 2019; Oliver & Exell, 2020; Roche, 2021; Vigouroux, 2017), both play powerful roles in the maintenance of inequality in the United States. The world language classroom can serve either as a place where both linguicism and raciolinguistics thrive, or as a setting in which they can be challenged and critiqued, as we shall see.
Language Education in the U.S. Context
In the past few decades, there has been a movement in the United States to replace the label “foreign language education” with “world language education.” The term “foreign languages” was historically used in the sense that these languages are foreign to English-speakers.3 However, often connected (albeit in unarticulated ways) to this meaning has been the related idea that languages other than English are somehow non-American, and perhaps even un-American. As the American Council on the Teaching of Foreign Languages (ACTFL) noted in the Standards for foreign language learning: Preparing for the 21stcentury,
The use of the word “foreign” to describe the teaching of languages other than English is becoming increasingly problematic within the U.S. context. Many of the languages taught within our schools are not “foreign” to many of our students (e.g., Italian, Chinese, or Spanish), nor are they “foreign” to the United States … (National Standards in Foreign Language Education Project, 1999, p. 27)
Although the phrase “world language education” has been widely accepted in the United States, it is nevertheless a problematic one. As Apple pointed out (see Apple, 2012a, 2012b, 2013, 2014), such changes in terminology are often simply word games, which serve not to indicate real change in perspective or practice, but rather, to disguise what are continuing practices and assumptions:
Historically outmoded, and socially and politically conservative (and often educationally disastrous) practices are not only continued, but are made to sound as if they were actually more enlightened and ethically responsive ways of dealing with children.(1979, p. 144)
This is precisely what has taken place in the case of world language education.4 U.S. society remains dominated by an ideological and normative monolingual ideal, and languages other than English (as well as their speakers) continue to be seen as “foreign.” What is needed is not a change of labels; rather, what is required is the development and articulation of a counter-narrative that truly challenges the assumptions about language, language legitimacy, monolingualism and multilingualism, and language rights in the United States. One key element in the development of such a counter-narrative is the need to analyze and critique the different types of linguistic bias and discrimination that impact students from marginalized language communities.
In addition to the teaching of world languages, one of the major educational efforts related to language in the U.S. is the teaching of English as a Second Language (ESL) in public schools. To be sure, there are bilingual education programs in many parts of the country, but in many school districts programs for non-English speaking children focus principally, if not exclusively, on the teaching of English. There are several additional, related points that need to be made here. First, bilingual education programs in the United States are ordinarily subtractive rather than additive in nature-their ultimate objective is not really bilingualism so much as dominance in English, in spite of the fact that the research clearly shows that additive programs are the most efficacious (see May, 2017). Second, such programs are typically limited in duration (most often to three years at most), which means that while children may develop basic interpersonal communication skills (BICS), they cannot develop the cognitive academic language proficiency (CALP) required to succeed in the academic setting.5 Finally, in the United States there is a clear distinction made between elite bilingualism and folk bilingualism, and at best language minority students in the public schools clearly exemplify the latter, lower prestige sort of bilingualism. This is arguably especially true in an era in which there is considerable discrimination against speakers of Spanish, coupled with racist concerns about illegal immigration (which most often means illegal immigration of Spanish speakers6 from Mexico and Central America).
Last, language education takes place in U.S. public schools for children who are considered to be native speakers of English. The teaching of English to native speakers is ordinarily prescriptive in nature, with the aim of instructing students in the particular kind of academic English used in formal settings, and especially in educational institutions (Schleppegrell, 2004).7 However, it also includes the presumed correction and remediation of the language used by students who speak non-mainstream8 varieties of Englishvarieties such as African American English, Appalachian English, and so on. The linguist John Baugh, for instance, has provided a wonderful example of this phenomenon from his own childhood. Baugh describes an interaction between himself as a child (and as a speaker of African American English), and his Standard American English-speaking teacher:
At that time I was relatively small—and quite small in comparison to Carlos [another student]. To my physical detriment, Carlos decided it was time to stop talking and start fighting, and he began to give me the “ass whippin’” he and his fellow Latinos and Latinas felt I deserved … I beat a fairly hasty retreat to the relative safety of our classroom, where the teacher, a middle-aged white man, overheard me “badmouthing” Carlos.
Teacher: John: stop it.
JB: Hey man! He’s hitting me. I ain’t doing nothing.
Teacher: You’re making fun of him
JB: Yeah, but he’s hitting me. I’m just talking.
Teacher: But you’re making fun of the way he talks, so stop it.
JB: (shucking and jiving in my best rendition of exaggerated Standard English) I’m very sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing anything wrong.
Teacher: Now John, why don’t you speak that way all of the time and improve yourself?
The teacher failed to realize what my black peers sensed immediately; namely, my rendition of Standard English was an overt attempt to mock the teacher and Standard English with one blow. He assumed I was being contrite—not sarcastic, and his statement regarding my linguistic self-improvement was intended to reinforce the virtues of speaking Standard English, which had little linguistic usefulness or value among the African American peer group I so desperately wanted to impress. (2000, p. 9)
All of these types of language education-the teaching and learning of foreign languages, the teaching and learning of ESL, and the prescriptivist teaching of American English to native English speakers-are settings in which both linguicism and raciolinguistics can be readily found, as we shall see.
Conceptualizing Linguicism
Linguicism is the linguistic equivalent to racism, sexism, ageism, ableism, audism, classism, and so on. Skutnabb-Kangas has defined linguicism as the:
ideologies, structures and practices which are used to legitimate, effectuate and reproduce an unequal division of power and resources (both material and immaterial) between groups which are defined on the basis of language. (1988, p. 13)
Linguicism has significant implications for virtually every aspect of human society and every domain of human life, and this is especially true in the school setting. Like other kinds of oppression, linguicism is by no means a single, unified entity. Rather, it takes many different forms, and responding to it effectively requires different kinds of actions. Further, linguicism rests on the ideology of linguistic legitimacy, the idea that particular languages, or language varieties, are in some sense superior to others, which inevitably presupposes that some other languages are inferior to these languages, even “defective” or “primitive” (Reagan, 2016, 2019).9 The criteria used in making such judgments are subjective, grounded in beliefs and attitudes related to phonological, lexical, and syntactic features of a particular language variety. Examples of this phenomenon abound. From the colonial era, the languages of non-western indigenous people, who were themselves seen to be culturally primitive, were also believed to be primitive well into the 20th century (see Diamond, 2017; Kuper, 1988). A powerful contemporary example of such views is provided by popular reactions to African American English. In spite of the excellent, and substantial, body of linguistic research that clearly demonstrates the contrary (see, for example, Baugh, 2000; Green, 2002, 2011; McWhorter, 2017; Mufwene et al., 2022), negative perceptions of African American English continue to be extremely common, especially in popular media.10 A similar situation exists with respect to Spanish in the United States, especially in terms of many varieties of Spanish which have been deeply influenced by contact with English and which are commonly labelled Spanglish (Martínez, 2013; Rothman & Rell, 2007; Sánchez-Muñoz, 2013).11 The indigenous languages of North America, historically rejected in the educational institutions run by the Bureau of Indian Affairs, have been largely driven to extinction in the past three centuries12 (see Benally & Viri, 2005; Warhol, 2011)-a phenomenon also seen in Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, among other settler and post-colonial societies (see Calvet, 2005; Nelson et al., 2023; Nettle & Romaine, 2000; Walsh, 2005). In many of these cases, what this actually reflects, at least in part, is the tension between the dominant “standard” language and “non-standard” competitors. As McWhorter observed,
Because the standard variety is the vehicle of almost all writing and official discourse, it is natural for us to conceive of it as “the real deal” and nonstandard varieties as “other” and generally lesser, even if pleasantly quaint or familiar …. But in fact standard dialects were generally only chosen for this role because they happened to be spoken by those who came into power as the nation coalesced into an administratively centralized political entity. What this means is that there is no logical conception of “language” as “proper” speech as distinguished from “quaint,” “broken” varieties best kept down on the farm or over on the other side of the tracks. (2001, p. 64)
It is indisputable, of course, that languages differ, and furthermore, that they differ in a variety of ways. Claims that some languages are primitive or simplistic in comparison with other languages, though, are virtually universally rejected by linguists. As McWhorter notes, what is a more accurate claim with respect to linguistic complexity is that “all languages are complex to some degree” (2001, p. 200, emphasis in original). What is really at stake with respect to differences between languages, in the words of Roman Jakobson, is that “Languages differ essentially in what they must convey and not in what they may convey” (quoted in Deutscher, 2010, p. 151).
In the foreign language classroom, linguicism is manifested in a number of ways. For instance, most teachers of French in the U.S. have historically stressed Parisian French and downplayed Québecois French. As Salien argued,
Teachers of French in the U.S. have either ignored, frowned upon, or ridiculed Quebec French. As a result, their students seldom have exposure to the variation of French spoke in La Belle Province, which is deplorable in view of the missed opportunities to learners of French. (1998, p. 95)13
In the case of Spanish, while Peninsular and Latin American varieties of Spanish are fairly routinely discussed in Spanish classes in the United States, local varieties are more typically dismissed in the classroom as “not real Spanish.” The impact of this on students is that it:
sends the message that speaking Spanish is something that happens in faraway places, but not in [the place] they are studying at is located, which contributes to the discourse of U.S. Spanish varieties as a problem rather than an asset. (Burns, 2018, p. 33)
Conceptualizing Raciolinguistics
There is an immense literature about racism, not only in the United States but in societies around the world. The distinctions among individual racism, institutional racism, and systemic racism, for instance, have been analyzed and critiqued in a host of different ways. The relationship between race and language, which is certainly part of the complex issue of racism, is a difficult one to define. As Penton Herrera explains,
Can a language be racist? … To answer this question, we must keep in mind that languages are not sentient beings with feelings and emotions; thus, in that sense, languages do not have the capacity to learn how to be racist … [And yet,] language is not innocent. Furthermore, the history that we (fail to) acknowledge in our schools about the language we teach, learn, and use in societies affects people’s views, identities, and self-perceived privilege—or lack thereof—as speakers of those languages. (2022, p. 58)
Race and language are not only closely related, but they are deeply intertwined in a host of ways. The relationship between race and language has been the focus of a great deal of scholarly work, especially that concerned with what is called raciolinguistics (see Alim et al., 2016; Briceño et al., 2018; Chaparro, 2019; García et al., 2021; Rosa, 2016a, 2016b; Rosa & Flores, 2017; Subtirelu, 2017). In essence, raciolinguistic ideologies are approaches and pedagogies that “conceptualize standardized linguistic practices as an objective set of linguistic forms that are appropriate” for institutional settings, such as educational institutions, the workplace, etc. (Flores & Rosa, 2015, p. 149)-and which thus rest upon multiple types of linguicism. Raciolinguistics also, not surprisingly, has significant impacts on classroom practice (see Daniels, 2019).
One especially egregious facet of raciolinguistics is what Rosa has called the “ideology of languagelessness.” Rosa describes the case of a latina secondary school principal and perceptions of her linguistic and interlinguistic competence:
a self-identified White, monolingual English-speaking teacher explained to me that… Dr. Baez’s English language skills “are horrible, and from what I hear, her Spanish isn’t that good either.” The fact that Dr. Baez effectively conducted full meetings with teachers, staff, parents, and students in English and/or Spanish, depending on the context, suggests that criticisms of her language practices were channeling ideas about some deeper inferiority. These ideas surrounding Dr. Baez’s language and intelligence demonstrate how Latinxs can be doubly stigmatized through their presumed lack of English and Spanish proficiency. If Dr. Baez, the bilingual school principal with multiple university degrees, including a doctorate in education, was subjected to such discriminatory thinking, then what could this mean for students, who were positioned in highly subordinated institutional positions? (2019, pp. 125-126)
This ideology of languagelessness is manifested in both criticisms of English-language use (and especially of the use of accented English) and of the use of regional or non-mainstream varieties of the native language. For instance, Rosa describes the case of Yesi, a Puerto Rican student enrolled in a university-level Spanish class:
As a heritage user of Puerto Rican Spanish, Yesi was not perceived as producing spoken and written Spanish forms that corresponded to the standardized language and literacy practices that her professor required. In a particularly embarrassing incident, her professor excoriated her publicly for saying troque instead of camión (truck). He viewed troque as a problematic calque from English to Spanish … Yesi interpreted this incident as a public shaming. She explained, “it hurt a lot, I felt like he was calling me stupid” …. Yesi regularly received failing grades. Her professor told her, “Estás hacienda errores basicos” (You are making basic mistakes). Yesi’s strong speaking abilities and extensive knowledge of Puerto Rican and Mexican vocabulary did not count toward her grade. Her perceived inability to produce standardized spoken and written forms made her feel as though she did not know Spanish at all. (2019, pp. 140-141)
Another way in which raciolinguistics is manifested in the educational domain is with respect to the ways in which bilingualism itself is viewed. There is a pervasive distinction between “racialized bilingualism”-the sort of bilingualism that characterizes bilinguals whose first language is a marginalized language or language variety-and what can be termed “elite bilingualism”-which is the bilingualism of native speakers of standard American English who have acquired fluency in a second language. This distinction can be seen clearly in the rise of “Seal of Biliteracy” programs around the country, which, while rhetorically advocating any sort of bilingualism, in reality favor elite bilingualism, in spite of the fact that it is English language learners for whom the concept and likelihood of meaningful success is considerably more likely in the U.S. setting (see Heineke & Davin, 2020; Heineke et al., 2018; Valdez et al., 2016). As Subtirelu and colleagues noted,
The Seal of Biliteracy is an initiative to incentivize and credentialize bi-/multilingualism in K-12 education in the United States. While it has been widely celebrated as a positive development in U.S. educational language policy, it is important to consider to what extent marginalized students benefit from this initiative … First, advocates and policy makers have constructed the purpose of the Seal as primarily aimed at promoting foreign or world language education, raising questions about the degree to which the recognition of language-minoritized students’ linguistic repertoires is a focus. Second, the policy requirements for demonstrating biliteracy advantage students, especially native English-speaking students, who are studying a foreign or world language as part of their school’s curriculum. Third, schools with high percentages of students of color and students from low-income families are less likely to participate in the program, suggesting that students privileged along lines of race and class have greater access to the program. (2019, p. 371)
In other words, what would at first glance might appear to be an enlightened and positive approach to the need to recognize and promote bilingualism and multilingualism in U.S. society is arguably rather an instance of neoliberalism and the broader neoliberal agenda in education (see Flubacher & Del Percio, 2017; Schwedhelm & King, 2020).
Why Language Matters
There is a significant nexus among language, race, and education. Each is incredibly significant in our personal lives, and each has substantial implications for our society and its institutions. With respect to the centrality of language in human life and society, Wardhaugh commented,
Language plays an important role in the lives of all of us and is our most distinctive human possession. We might expect, therefore, to be well-informed about it. The truth is we are not. Many statements we believe to be true about language are likely as not false. Many of the questions we concern ourselves with are either unanswerable and therefore not really worth asking or betray a serious misunderstanding of the nature of language. Most of us have learned many things about language from others, but generally the wrong things. (1999, p. viii)
It is not simply that language is central to our lives, though, but even more, that we commonly conceptualize it in ways that are deeply problematic. Unlike everyday views of language, Fasold and Connor-Linton describe the scientific approach to the study of language as follows:
Linguists approach language in the same way that astronomers approach the study of the universe or that anthropologists approach the study of human cultural systems. It would be ridiculous for astronomers to speak about planets orbiting stars “incorrectly” and inappropriate for anthropologists to declare a culture “degenerate” simply because it differs from their own. Similarly, linguists take language as they find it, rather than attempting to regulate it in the direction of preconceived criteria. Linguists are equally curious about all the forms of language that they encounter, no matter what the education or social standing of their speakers might be. (2014, p. 9, emphasis added)
Dicker, writing about the increasing numbers of language minority students in U.S. public schools (many of whom are also people of color) noted that,
With the growing population of language minorities in American public schools and colleges, knowledge about the process of language learning should no longer be limited to experts who speak only to each other. Everyone, especially those involved in public education, needs information that is clear and unbiased. Misconceptions about language learning are spread widely in the press and are used by those who have political motives for attacking programs which might benefit non-native speakers of English. (1996, p. 75)
Applying such observations about language to the specific case of world language education, Ortega has written,
The field of foreign language teaching [has failed] to recognize the fact that both societal attitudes towards languages and power struggles resulting from ownership of a language and culture by particular groups are inextricably embedded in the definition of goals for language education … Foreign language education and the foreign language teaching profession need to be reconceptualized in light of socio-cultural, political, and professional forces that affect the realities and potentials of foreign language teaching communities. (1999, p. 243)
In short, it is clear that language, language differences, and the ways in which we respond to such differences—both in society broadly conceived and in the context of the public school—really do matter, and that they matter a great deal. As Wink argued for the case for critical pedagogy more generally,
Why in the world does it matter? Kids matter. That’s why. Our future matters. That’s why. It is as simple as that. It is also something we all know. This is serious business we are talking about here. Students and teachers are hurting. We in education are a mirror of society that is more and more polarized. (2005, p. 165)
Linguicism, Raciolinguistics, and World Language Education
Linguicism and raciolinguistics constitute powerful challenges to the objectives of public education in the United States. They are, fundamentally, attacks on social justice and equity in our society and in our schools. Thus, any meaningful response to them generally, and in the context of language education in particular, must be based on a recognition of the need for both social justice in education and, ultimately, the need for a critical pedagogical approach to the teaching and learning of languages (see Hawkins, 2011; Leeman, 2005; Leeman et al., 2011; Osborn, 2006, 2021; Reagan, 2022; Reagan & Osborn, 2021). Ideas and concerns about social justice have been fundamental through the history of humanity. At the same time, it is true that because of its use by so many different people in so many times and places, it is sometimes difficult to pin down a clear and unambiguous meaning for “social justice.” Novak is not entirely wrong when he claims that,
Whole books and treatises have been written about social justice without ever defining it. It is allowed to float in the air as if everyone will recognize an instance of it when it appears. This vagueness seems indispensable. The minute one begins to define social justice, one runs into embarrassing intellectual difficulties. It becomes, most often, a term of art whose operational meaning is, “We need a law against that.” (2000)
The lack of a universally accepted definition for a concept such as social justice, though, does not mean that the concept has no value, nor that it lacks meaning altogether. For our purposes here, a good working definition of social justice has been provided by Bell:
Social justice is both a goal and a process. The goal of social justice is full and equitable participation of people from all social identity groups in a society that is mutually shaped to meet their needs. The process for attaining the goal of social justice should also be democratic and participatory, respectful of human diversity and group differences, and inclusive and affirming of human agency and capacity for working collaboratively with others to create change. Domination cannot be ended through coercive tactics that recreate domination in new forms … a “power with” vs. “power over” … paradigm is necessary for enacting social justice goals. (2016, p. 3)
Closely related to concerns about achieving social justice in the educational domain is critical pedagogy (see, e.g., Darder et al., 2009; Giroux, 2011; McLaren, 2002; McLaren & Kincheloe, 2007), at the heart of which is the recognition that all education is profoundly political and ideological in nature. As Kincheloe argued, “whether one is teaching in Bangladesh or Bensonhurst, Senegal or Shreveport, East Timor or West New York, education is a political activity” (2008, p. 8). Further, as Grande argued,
Critical pedagogy is first and foremost an approach to schooling (i.e., teaching, policy making, curriculum production) that emphasizes the political nature of education. As such, critical pedagogy aims to understand, reveal, and disrupt the mechanisms of oppression imposed by the established order, suturing the processes and aims of education to emancipatory goals. (2007, p. 317)
The cognizance of the political and ideological nature of education is necessary to understand the fundamental nature and institutions in which children are educated. To appreciate schools and schooling-including the teaching and learning processes-we need to grasp the complex nexus of the social, cultural, economic, political, and historical contexts in which they exist. This is what critical pedagogy and social justice education are all about.
Implications for the Classroom
And what does this mean for the language classroom? It means a great deal. Classroom discourse-essentially, the communication that takes place both formally and informally in the school context-is at the heart of the teaching and learning processes (see Walsh, 2006, 2011; Young, 1993). As Bloome and colleagues (2004) have observed, it is also closely tied to equity, democracy, freedom, justice, racism, classism, homophobia, sexism, etc. All of these impact the classroom in a variety of ways: in teacher-student and student-teacher communication, in teacher (and student) judgments about language and language variation, in the assessment and evaluation of students (as well as of teachers), and in the explicit and implicit messages sent in the formal curriculum (as well as in the hidden curriculum). Addressing these in the classroom cannot, of course, on its own ensure that classrooms promote social justice, equity, fairness, and so on-but at the same time, such goals cannot be achieved without addressing the attitudes, beliefs, and values associated with it. For the language educator, this creates a great responsibility and obligation. If one assumes that the school and classroom should be places that are not only physically but also emotionally and psychologically safe places for all students, that the background experiences of all students should be recognized, respected and taken into account in designing and implementing the curriculum and assessment that take place in the classroom, and that pluralism and diversity-linguistic and otherwise-are valuable and indeed necessary features of a democratic society, then resistance to both linguicism and raciolinguistics becomes an essential commitment for all language educators, in the United States and elsewhere.
NotesD
The concept of the “first language” (also called the “native language,” “mother tongue,” “native tongue,” or simply L1) is actually a fairly complex matter in many cases, especially in bilingual and multilingual environments. The term itself, from a linguistic perspective, is at best imprecise. In discussing sociolinguistics, for instance, Blommaert and Rampton comment, “although notions such as ‘native speaker’ [and] ‘mother tongue’ … have considerable ideological force … they should have no place in the sociolinguistic toolbox itself” (2016, p. 26, emphasis added).
As Nguyen and Hajek have noted, linguicism is not in fact a singular or unity phenomenon, nor is it always used simply to mean linguistic discrimination. They identify three distinct ways in which the concept of linguicism can be used: (1) to refer to race-based concepts, (2) to refer to language variation-based concepts, and (3) in a more generic fashion. However, they also suggest that “linguicism is a powerful theoretical construct, which can be used as an umbrella concept to capture the full range of linguistic discrimination issues” (2022, p. 187). It is in this last sense that I am employing the term in this article. See also Baugh (2023), Cho (2017), Reagan and Gabrielli (2022), Skutnabb-Kangas and Phillipson (1996), and Uekusa (2019).
The use of the term “speaker” is, of course, audist in that it ignores users of sign languages such as American Sign Language. I use it here simply because it is the most common way of describing users of languages, but with the recognition of its problematic nature (see Bauman, 2004; Eckert & Rowley, 2013; Skyer & Cochell, 2020).
And, it is precisely for this reason that I will alternate between foreign language and world language in this article.
The distinction between basic interpersonal communication skills (BICS) and cognitive academic language proficiency (CALP) was introduced by Cummins in 1979, and has become foundational in the field of bilingual education. The basic idea is that children develop conversational ability fairly quickly, but that this conversational ability is not sufficient for learning in academic settings. As Vincent noted in an ethnographic study of Salvadorean students,
The children seem to have much greater English proficiency than they actually do because their spoken English has no accent and they are able to converse on a few every day, frequently discussed subjects. Academic language is frequently lacking. Teachers actually spend very little time talking with individual children and tend to interpret a small sample of speech as evidence of full English proficiency. (1996, p. 195)
In fact, the assumption that many of those seeking entry to the U.S. at the Mexican border are speakers of Spanish is somewhat misleadingmany are speakers of different American indigenous languages, with little or no competence in Spanish (see Gieselman, 2018; Wallace & Hernández, 2017).
Basically, what we are talking about here is Bourdieu’s concept of linguistic capital (see Bourdieu, 1984, 1991; Bourdieu & Passeron, 1970; Bourdieu & Boltanski, 1975).
Traditionally, linguists (and others) distinguished between standard and non-standard language varieties of language. In recent years, there has been a recognition that these terms are ideological in nature, and in many important ways misleading. Because of this problem, they have been widely replaced with “mainstream” and “non-mainstream”—but, as Lippi-Green has argued, this is really not a significant improvement. The trouble is, as she notes, that “this is a problem with no easy solution” (2012, p. 62). I have used mainstream and non-mainstream here because it is the most common terminology at the moment.
The idea that there are primitive languages is almost universally rejected by linguists (see Scancarelli, 1994). In fact, the notion of a “primitive language” (like the idea of a “primitive society” or a “primitive culture”) is reflective of western colonialism and racism (see Mazzon, 2021).
One clear manifestation of this phenomenon has been the presence of racist “Ebonics satire” on the internet and in daily discourse (see Gayles & Denerville, 2007; Rickford, 1999; Rickford & Rickford, 2000; Ronkin & Karn, 1999; Scott, 1998).
There has been a vociferous debate about the existence and status of Spanglish in the United States in recent years (see Stavans, 2004, 2008). This debate itself is in fact the result of and an indication of raciolinguistic ideology at work in the educational domain.
At the time of the arrival of European colonists, there were more than 300 indigenous languages spoken in what is today the United States. At present, there are approximately 170, but that number is declining rapidly and almost all are endangered—by some estimates, fewer than 20 will still be spoken by 2050.
This has begun to change in many places, and the notion of French as a monocentric language is increasingly discussed and critiqued (see Auger & Valdman, 1999; Dawley, 2017; Wernicke, 2016).
