Mixed Nuts

Ani again.

An interesting post over at Language Log discusses how, apparently, native speakers of French, intended to serve as a control group in a second-language acquisition experiment, were remarkably inconsistent in the genders they assigned to nouns. This is important because native speakers are generally assumed to be fairly consistent and correct in their use of the language and it is this usage, alongside written grammars, that is therefore used to measure the success of non-native speakers’ language acquisition.

Ayoun was investigating second-language learning of grammatical gender in French — a major difficulty for learners from non-gender languages like English. She had constructed a couple of tasks: grammaticality judgments of sentences where there was a gender agreement mismatch, and a gender-assignment task, where subjects were given a noun and had to choose among “masculine”, “feminine”, “both”, or “I don’t know”.

In both tasks, to her great surprise, she found a great deal of disagreement among her native-speaker controls! In these tasks, there is always a normatively ‘correct’ answer — French dictionaries and textbooks all agree on what the genders of nouns are, and how gender agreement in sentences should turn out — in the same way they agree on how to form relative clauses, and how to form passives, and where to put clitic pronouns, and so on. Native speakers would be expected to perform close to ceiling on this grammatical task, as on others. But, surprisingly, they don’t.

What is interesting is that the greatest variation existed among the youngest participants.

On most grammatical tasks, for all intents and purposes, teenagers’ native-language abilities are identical to adults’ abilities. But when she broke down the gender-assignment task results by age, she found that teenagers showed considerably more variation than the adults. On the 50 feminine nouns, for example, the 14 adults all agreed on 21 of them, while the 42 teenagers agreed on only one: cible, ‘target’. Of the 93 masculine nouns, the adults agreed on 51 of them, while all adults and teenagers agreed on only 17 (of 93!!)

Apparently, no systematic study of native French speakers’ assignment of grammatical gender has been done for about 30 years, so we don’t know when or how this inconsistency developed. It’s interesting though, because it makes me wonder whether it has anything to do with the increasing amount of ‘noise’ being overlaid on language. Teachers and all manner of pedants have been bewailing the deterioration of language quite possibly since we started using language in the first place. What I find odd though is not just the change in the way people use language, but the fact that they don’t really seem to ‘have the idiom’, as it were. I hope that’s not just me turning into a stuffy old lecturer before my time and ranting about ‘kids these days’ - I’m particular about usage, certainly, but I try not to smother living language.

As the post points out, the experiment was not set up to provide answers to questions regarding the variation between native language speakers so we’ll have to wait for another study before we can do more than wonder out loud. But in the mean time, I shall happily speculate to my heart’s content.

Tell me if this sounds familiar: you hear of something awful/upsetting/annoying/stupid happening in a foreign country or a community that’s been in the news a lot. You, in your wonderfully informed and astute way, watched an ABC special or read an article about this culture/community in the Economist, both of which are respected institutions. You might even have worked with this girl who was dating someone from there once - you know because she brought him/her round for drinks once and you had a lovely 15-minute chat. So, armed with your indignation about said event and your vast body of knowledge on said culture, you a) declare your indignation and/or b) proceed to locate the nearest person belonging to that culture and demand an explanation.

Yes?

Well I’m tired of being that chai-colored person you immediately go to for that explanation. I have yet to meet an Australian who can give me a thorough, nuanced historical explanation of the political and symbolic importance of last week’s Apology to the Aboriginal peoples. I have yet to meet an American who can, at the drop of a hat, explain why Americans don’t want to vote for a woman or a black man and how the fuck a bible-bashing lunatic who wants to destroy the Constitution is even being considered as a potential presidential candidate or what the fuck Scientology is. But then I wouldn’t ask them why their societies are so fucking racist and sexist and homophobic and downright illiterate. Oh and xenophobic too. Gotta love that xenophobia.

Why? Because as it happens, the individuals I know from these countries are not any of those things. Or, if they are, they’re open-minded enough to challenge themselves a bit and get the fuck over it. See, I’ve lived there. Sure there’s some bad stuff, but mostly, I’ve seen good stuff. Decent people, good friends, intelligent conversation, that sort of thing. If I did have a question though, you know what I would do? I’d go look it up. I’d go read. Gosh, I might even watch the news for more than five minutes. And once I’d figured out what impact, if any, it might have on my life, I’d go do something else.

Personally, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you believe, who you fuck, or what you eat. I would appreciate it, though, if you would extend me the same courtesy. I am not the spokesperson for all things Pakistani, Muslim, Islamic, South Asian, female, queer, Pakistani + female/queer, Muslim + female/queer, Islamic + female/queer or South Asian + female/queer. I don’t care how fucking concerned you are about those poor benighted savages whose plight you feel so deeply for that you must make asinine statements about their ‘rights’ and ‘freedoms’ while ignoring completely that there are people on the ground from those societies working the asses off to actually make a difference. You have the gall, instead, to feel sorry that you can’t do more, because obviously, nothing will ever get fixed until you get your big fat pink ass over there to really turn them into beggars. Fuck. The angst must be unbearable.

And don’t for a minute think that this isn’t also addressed to the fucking desi morons who make equally stupid assumptions about people cultures that they know nothing about. They pity you folks too, and in much the same nauseating way. Tsk tsk. All these women having babies by themselves, without even a maid to help. Poor old man dying alone after raising five children. You know, they put him in a nursing home! Oh you know them, no families or religion or values or anything. Wonder how they survive, poor things. Oye stay away from them - you know they’ll fuck anything that moves. It wouldn’t happen if they’d just get married when their parents told them to.

The only difference is whose words get heard more. I have the enviable good fortune of traveling between these two poles of stupidity. In Pakistan, I’m trying to explain the big, bad, warmongering, female-exploiting West, outside it, I’m trying to explain the evil, fundamentalist, female-oppressing Islamist world.

Fuck that.

No I don’t think America-the-Asshole is right. No I don’t think bloody goat-raping Al-qaida is right. No, Pakistan is not part of the goddamned Middle East. No I don’t think there is a Zionist conspiracy. No I don’t fucking cover my head and I never will. No I am not oppressed. No I’m not gay. No I’m not straight either you fucking moron. No I wasn’t taught any Islamic creation myths. No I wasn’t taught that men are better than women. No I do not speak Arabic. No Urdu is not my first language. No I don’t defer to my little brother, to my father, to my husband, or to any random idiot male on anything relating to my personal freedom. No I’m not Indian. No I don’t fucking want your approval for speaking my first language so well or for being so ‘progressive’. No I’m not ‘exotic’ or ‘fascinating’ (you’re fucking ignorant). No I fucking do not need to apologize for being from wherever it is you think I’m from or whatever it is you think I am.

I do not owe you a fucking explanation.

Tracy Chapman singing about a revolution. This is live - just her and her guitar and what looks like hundreds of people.

Scientific American interviews Alice Gaby, a linguist working at UC Berkeley (and a University of Melbourne alumna), about her research on how language affects our perception of the world. She explains, however, that language isn’t some sort of “straitjacket” that limits us to thinking in only one way, but rather a “habit” of mind that we fall into and that can and does change. Culture both reinforces and results from these habits.

The discussion ranges over other interesting topics, including Gaby’s project regarding the concept of time in language, which sounds fascinating.

SciAm promised a transcript of the interview a week from the post, but nothing’s been posted yet. I’ll link to it as soon as it’s up.

Time for a little Joan Jett.

The Australian published an excerpt from Benazir Bhutto’s book yesterday in which she speaks of starting college in the US in 1969, where she experienced firsthand the rights and freedoms that Americans took for granted. She also arrived at a time when feminism was finally gaining some ground in the US. What struck me though, was this passage:

My parents had taught me that men and women are equal in the eyes of God, that the first convert to Islam was a woman, that the prophet of Islam married a career woman, that the line of the prophet was carried through his beloved daughter Fatima, and that on the day of judgment all souls would be called in the name of the mother.

She goes on to add that,

…despite this emphasis on women’s rights and the importance of women in Islam, all around me I could see that women were not treated with much importance in Pakistan, nor did they have many rights.

The rest of the article deals with her realization that any true improvement in Pakistani society would come only with an improvement in the condition of women, starting with education. That’s not exactly a revelation, but I don’t think it’s meant to be - I think this is simply the story of how she came by her beliefs. Which is why I’m not taking it up.

What struck me about the excerpt was the first paragraph that I’ve quoted above. It shows, I think, the basic class divide that exists in the country, not so much between rich and poor as between educated and illiterate (though the two are obviously related and overlap considerably). That right there is the version of Islam that we were taught as children in school and at home - that at bottom, there is no difference in the worth of men and women - and that formed the basis of our idea of what this religion that we were born into stood for.

Before we read any actual scripture or learned to say our prayers, we were taught that Islam meant progress, equality, tolerance, kindness, honesty, and so on. And even when we did come to reading parts of the Koran in Islamiat classes, they only confirmed all that we had been taught before. As a girl, I was never fed the patronizing “you’re as good as any boy” line but rather, “you’re a person; you can be as good as you want to be.”

So when people ask me now about how “intolerant” Islam is and how difficult it must be to live in an “Islamic” society, it takes me a minute to process the question. First of all, I don’t think Pakistan is an “Islamic” society (despite the unfortunate change of name), but a Muslim one, at least for the time being. I say that because the term ‘Islamic’ now describes strict adherence to the letter of the law, as it were, at the expense of the spirit. To me, the term ‘Muslim’, in contrast (and probably in reaction) means pretty much what the term ‘Christian’ means today: someone brought up in a culture that grew out of a religion and that consequently maintains some contact with the spirit and trappings of that religion. (As I write this though, I’m aware that in some parts of the world, most notably the USA, ‘Christian’ increasingly means evangelical or fundamentalist. Here’s hoping secular America and Europe manage to hold out.) To me, Pakistanis are - or at least have been until recently - what Faiz called ‘cultural Muslims’ - public rituals, such as weddings and funerals, are carried our according to a certain formula, but personal belief (or lack thereof) is, well, personal.

Secondly, the reason the question of the “oppressiveness” of Islam doesn’t compute, is because I have never directly experienced it. I know that there are some horrific laws in place in Pakistan, but all my life all I’ve heard is how 1) there is no place for them in Pakistan and 2) that even if Pakistan were to go ahead with the “Islamic” thing, that these laws contravene the spirit of the religion and that the powers that allowed their institutionalization did so by fooling the uneducated masses into believing they were doing something sanctioned by religion, ie, ‘good’. I am aware that there are people who routinely suffer as a result of these laws and also as a result of other laws in place in other countries that also purport to be ‘Islamic’. But I am also aware that there are people - Muslims - fighting tooth and nail to change or remove these laws altogether and to protect and advocate for their victims.

My own beliefs notwithstanding, I still cannot equate the word “Muslim” with “fire-breathing, bearded/hijab-ed fundamentalist” despite the best efforts of the international press (generously assisted by the fundamentalists themselves). I had, however, forgotten why, until I read what Bhutto had written. As I’ve said before, I was no supporter of hers, but I realize that she did represent ‘my’ kind of Pakistani - she went to school with my mother, for heaven’s sake. I don’t know that she would have done Pakistan any good as PM this time around (except in terms of appeasing the ‘West’), but she was certainly more ‘one of us’ than any of the people who’ll be vying for power next Monday.

I found this bit of gorgeousness via languagehat, a blog I’ve only just started reading.

Antoine Cassar writes in five different languages, but rather than write one poem in one language, he has attempted to “braid” all five together into single poems, called Muzajik or Mosaics. The results are intriguing. The first and third link will take you to some of his poems, and while you’re there I’d recommend listening to the posted recordings. I’ve found, in my brief encounter with them, that the different languages gel well with each other and form very interesting poetry. He’s woven the sounds of the different languages together wonderfully in the poems I’ve heard so far (Go listen).

In the Chimera piece(first link), Cassar says:

“…the mosaics are more than a mere linguistic challenge. Having lived in five different European countries and languages, I find it difficult to decide which tongue I feel more at home with. Although I still write monolingual poetry occasionally (particularly in Maltese), I believe that selecting one, or even two, would mean sacrificing others, and to a certain extent, I feel that making a choice would also imply a political decision. Why the fixation with one as opposed to many?”

I think that’s what immediately appealed to me. Being multilingual, one tends to code-switch - or at least want to code-switch - quite a bit, and it is sometimes frustrating to have to limit oneself to just one language when another would fit a particular situation so much better. Given that there are probably more bilinguals and multilinguals in the world than monolinguals, it is worth asking why the majority has to limit itself for the sake of the minority. (And the over-generalized answer, probably, is that the minority is more powerful or influential - neither of which is to be construed as pejorative.)

There are more things to address here, not the least of which is Cassar’s project to include languages he does not speak into the mosaics, but as the project is, as far as I can tell, still gathering steam, I expect there will be more opportunities to do so. In the mean time, I’m just going to go enjoy what there is.

I’m enrolled in the PhD program. Till 2012. And I’m being paid to do it, which is utterly cool.

There were delays, of course - it’s taken almost a month and a half to process everything. You’d think, with an unconditional offer and two full scholarships, there’d be no reason for any holdups, wouldn’t you? I thought so too. I have seldom been so horribly wrong.

See Australia requires international students to have health insurance while they’re in the country. In itself, this is not a problem. It becomes a problem, however, when you want to switch insurance companies. They don’t like each other and while they’re happy to have you, you need to be punished for ever going over to the competition in the first place. Once they work you over good and proper and make you swear a blood oath to never ever leave the fold again on pain of torture by red tape, you are finally redeemed and accepted into the fold.

You can imagine, then, what the company you’re leaving does to you. Honestly, if my parents had divorced when I was 12 and I’d been forced to choose between them, it could not have been worse.

The incompetence of the people who are supposed to ‘handle’ us international students  was the next hurdle. Yes you need health cover for three years. No you don’t. Yes you do. No you don’t. Unfortunately, it was ‘yes you do’ when I went to accept my offer and I was sent packing straight to the insurance company with offerings of money and vows of eternal fidelity. They were in a benevolent mood - and hey, who isn’t when you give them money - and back I went to finally, finally accept my offer. And then, naturally, I find out that the department of immigration only requires you to have cover for the first 12 months of your degree, after which it is your responsibility to keep it updated.

That stupidity aside though, it’s done and I’m ready to start. I’m quite excited and nervous, but I have about four years to get over that.  I’ve started exploring German on my own, though I’ll sign up for proper classes once I sort out where to go. I’m also sorting through what resources I’ve found at the library and looking for stuff online, though the amount of material searches turn up is a little frightening. Ah well, as I said, four years to go through it all.

I realized something else that’s ‘official’, or at least will be by the time I finish: in 2012, I will have lived in Melbourne for just under six years - that’s longer than I’ve ever lived anywhere before.  Who’d'a thunk?

Hey, it’s still Thursday in some parts of the world.

The Cat Empire - I’ve been hearing of them for a while but never listened to any of their stuff till this week. I like.