Online learning: Definitely possible

There’s been a lot of talk over the past several years about online learning. Some people sing its praises without reservation. Others claim that it doesn’t work at all. I have successfully learned over the internet and I have successfully taught over the internet. It can work very well, but it requires a commitment on the part of the teacher and the learner that is not always present. In this series of posts I will discuss what has worked well and what hasn’t in my experience, specifically in teaching linguistics to undergraduate speech pathology majors.

Online learning is usually contrasted with an ideal classroom model where the students engage in two-way oral conversation, exercises and assessment with the instructor and each other, face to face in real time. In practice there are already deviations from this model: one-way lectures, independent and group exercises, asynchronous homeworks, take-home exams. The questions are really whether the synchronous or face-to-face aspects can be completely eliminated, and whether the internet can provide a suitable medium for instruction.

The first question was answered hundreds of years ago, when the first letter was exchanged between scholars. Since then people have learned a great deal from each other, via books and through the mail. My great-uncle Doc learned embalming through a correspondence course, and made a fortune as one of the few providers of Buddhist funerals in San Jose. So we know that people can learn without face-to-face, synchronous or two-way interaction with teachers.

What about the internet? People are learning a lot from each other over the internet. I’ve learned how to assemble a futon frame and play the cups over the internet. A lot of the core ideas about social science that inform my work today I learned in a single independent study course I took over email with Melissa Axelrod in 1999.

My most dramatic exposure to online learning was from 2003 through 2006. I read the book My Husband Betty, and discovered that the author, Helen Boyd, had an online message board for readers to discuss her book (set up by Betty herself). The message board would send me emails whenever someone posted, and I got drawn into a series of discussions with Helen and Betty, as well as Diane S. Frank, Caprice Bellefleur, Donna Levinsohn, Sarah Steiner and a number of other thoughtful, creative, knowledgeable people.

A lot of us knew a thing or two about gender and sexuality already, but Helen, having read widely and done lots of interviews on those topics, was our teacher, and would often start a discussion by posting a question or a link to an article. Sometimes the discussion would get heated, and eventually I was kicked off and banned. But during those three years I learned a ton, and I feel like I got a Master’s level education in gender politics. Of course, we didn’t pay Helen for this besides buying her books, so I’m glad she eventually got a full-time job teaching this stuff.

So yes, we can definitely learn things over the internet. But are official online courses an adequate substitute for – or even an improvement over – in-person college classes? I have serious doubts, and I’ll cover them in future posts.

Posted in Teaching, Web | Leave a comment

Category fights: Splitting

Imagine that you belong to a category, like “tourist.” You fit all the necessary conditions for membership in that category: you are traveling to another part of the world for recreation. But that category has a bad reputation – literally a bad name. What do you do? You split the category.

In the past I’ve talked about other kinds of category fights: watchdogging alleged bait-and-switch tactics, or gatekeeping to prevent free-riding. Tonight I’m going to talk about splitting.

I grew up in the lovely arts colony of Woodstock, New York, which is crowded every summer and fall with tourists. They never bothered me too much, and they bought lots of stuff so that the merchants could afford to hire my parents, but my family and neighbors liked to complain about them. They drove too fast on our country roads, possibly contributing to the death of some of our dogs over the years. They filled up the parking lots and caused traffic jams on Mill Hill Road. They asked annoying questions – where was Yasgur’s farm? They were demanding and unreasonable to my sister and friends who worked in retail.

In terms of non-Platonic categories, there is a wide diversity of actual tourists, but the category is dominated in people’s minds by a stereotype of the Tourist, who is entitled, disrespectful, and lacks a proper appreciation for the people they are visiting and their culture. All tourists are tainted by the stereotype of the Tourist, but some people do pride themselves on being respectful, humble, open and curious. What can they do to advertise that to others?

As Lara Week documented in a study of several blogs in 2012, and described to Laurie Taylor on his Thinking Allowed podcast, one thing you can do is to split the category. A number of people have chosen to call themselves “travelers” instead of “tourists.” Week reports that they distinguish themselves by “doing what the locals do,” “respecting local cultures” and “being frugal,” and have added features like “seeking authenticity” and “going to ‘untraveled’ places.” She goes on to summarize critiques that argue that the self-styled travelers have “fail to address all of the problems created by tourism,” but that is not directly relevant to the linguistic issues here.

The travelers, notably, split the category of “tourist” so that they are outside of it. They have concluded that the category is irredeemably contaminated, and their only hope is to escape it. In contrast, as Ben Zimmer reported last year, a number of people have tried to split the category of “pedestrian,” keeping the stereotype of pedestrians clean by placing people who text while walking into subcategories of “petextrians,” or “wexters.”

The cleanliness of the stereotype is one factor in determining whether people choose to split themselves off into another category or to split others off. It also determines whether people try to split themselves (or others) into a subcategory or into a completely new category. Another factor is how rigidly the category is defined. It is very hard to leave the category of “men,” so some men who feel that the stereotype is contaminated have responded with the #notallmen hashtag, trying to reclaim it by splitting the bad men into a subcategory.

Posted in Categorization, Semantics | Leave a comment

African American English has accents too

Diversity is notoriously subjective and difficult to pin down. In particular, we tend be impressed if we know the names of a lot of categories for something. We might think there are more mammal species than insect species, but biologists tell us that there are hundreds of thousands of species of beetles alone. This is true in language as well: we think of the closely-related Romance and Germanic languages as separate, while missing the incredible diversity of “dialects” of Chinese or Arabic.

This is also true of English. As an undergraduate I was taught that there were four dialects in American English: New England, North Midland, South Midland and Coastal Southern. Oh yeah, and New York and Black English. The picture for all of those is more complicated than it sounds, and I went to Chicago I discovered that there are regional varieties of African American English.

In 2012 Annie Minoff, a blogger for Chicago public radio station WBEZ, took this oversimplification for truth: “AAE is remarkable for being consistent across urban areas; that is, Boston AAE sounds like New York AAE sounds like L.A. AAE, etc.” Fortunately a commenter, Amanda Hope, challenged her on that assertion. Minoff confirmed the pattern in an interview with variationist Walt Wolfram, and posted a correction in 2013.

In 2013 I was preparing to teach a unit on language variation and didn’t want to leave my students as misinformed as I – or Minoff – had been. Many of my students were African American, and I saw no reason to spend most of the unit on white varieties and leave African American English as a footnote. But the documentation is spotty: I know of no good undergraduate-level discussion of variation in African American English.

A few years before I had found a video that some guy took of a party in a parking lot on the West Side of Chicago. It wasn’t ideal, but it sort of gave you an idea. The link was dead, so I typed “Chicago West Side” into Google. The results were not promising, so on a whim I added “accent” and that’s how I found my first accent tag video.

Accent tag videos are an amazing thing, and I could write a whole series of posts about them. Here was a young black woman from Chicago’s West Side, not only talking about her accent but illustrating it, with words and phrases to highlight its differences from other dialects. She even talks (as many people do in these videos) about how other African Americans hear her accent in other places, like North Carolina. You can compare it (as I did in class) with a similar video made by a young black woman from Raleigh (or New York or California), and the differences are impossible to ignore.

In fact, when Amanda Hope challenged Minoff’s received wisdom on African American regional variation, she used accent tag videos to illustrate her point. These videos are amazing, particularly for teaching about language and linguistics, and from then on I made extensive use of them in my courses. There’s also a video made by two adorable young English women, one from London and one from Bolton near Manchester, where you can hear their accents contrasted in conversation. I like that I can go not just around the country but around the world (Nigeria, Trinidad, Jamaica) illustrating the diversity of English just among women of African descent, who often go unheard in these discussions. I’ll talk more about accent tag videos in future posts.

You can also find evidence of regional variation in African American English on Twitter. Taylor Jones has a great post about it that also goes into the history of African American varieties of English.

Posted in Teaching, Variation | 2 Comments

Is your face red?

In 1936, Literary Digest magazine made completely wrong predictions about the Presidential election. They did this because they polled based on a bad sample: driver’s licenses and subscriptions to their own magazine. Enough people who didn’t drive or subscribe to Literary Digest voted, and they voted for Roosevelt. The magazine’s editors’ faces were red, and they had the humility to put that on the cover.

This year, the 538 website made completely wrong predictions about the Presidential election, and its editor, Nate Silver, sorta kinda took responsibility. He had put too much trust in polls conducted at the state level. They were not representative of the full spectrum of voter opinion in those states, and this had skewed his predictions.

Silver’s face should be redder than that, because he said that his conclusions were tentative, but he did not act like it. When your results are so unreliable and your data is so problematic, you have no business being on television and in front-page news articles as much as Silver has.

In part this attitude of Silver’s comes from the worldview of sports betting, where the gamblers know they want to bet and the only question is which team they should put their money on. There is some hedging, but not much. Democracy is not a gamble, and people need to be prepared for all outcomes.

But the practice of blithely making grandiose claims based on unrepresentative data, while mouthing insincere disclaimers, goes far beyond election polling. It is widespread in the social sciences, and I see it all the time in linguistics and transgender studies. It is pervasive in the relatively new field of Data Science, and Big Data is frequently Non-representative Data.

At the 2005 meeting of the American Association for Corpus Linguistics there were two sets of interactions that stuck with me and have informed my thinking over the years. The first was a plenary talk by the computer scientist Ken Church. He described in vivid terms the coming era of cheap storage and bandwidth, and the resulting big data boom.

But Church went awry when he claimed that the size of the datasets available, and the computational power to analyze them, would obviate the need for representative samples. It is true that if you can analyze everything you do not need a sample. But that’s not the whole story.

A day before Church’s talk I had had a conversation over lunch with David Lee, who had just written his dissertation on the sampling problems in the British National Corpus. Lee had reiterated what I had learned in statistics class: if you simply have most of the data but your data is incomplete in non-random ways, you have a biased sample and you can’t make generalizations about the whole.

I’ve seen this a lot in the burgeoning field of Data Science. There are too many people performing analyses they don’t understand on data that’s not representative, making unfounded generalizations. As long as these generalizations fit within the accepted narratives, nobody looks twice.

We need to stop making it easier to run through the steps of data analysis, and instead make it easier to get those steps right. Especially sampling. Or our faces are going to be red all the time.

Posted in Sampling | Leave a comment

The Digital Parisian Stage is now on GitHub

For the past five years I’ve been working on a project, the Digital Parisian Stage, that aims to create a representative sample of Nineteenth-century Parisian theater. I’ve made really satisfying progress on the first stage, 1800 through 1815, which corresponds to the first volume of Charles Beaumont Wicks’s catalog, the Parisian Stage (1950). Of the initial one-percent sample (31 plays), I have obtained 24, annotated 15 and discarded three for length, for a current total of twelve plays.

The Théâtre de la Porte Saint-Martin. Watercolor and gouache by Jean-Baptiste Lallemand
The Théâtre de la Porte Saint-Martin. Watercolor and gouache by Jean-Baptiste Lallemand

At conferences like the Keystone Digital Humanities Conference and the American Association for Corpus Linguistics, I’ve presented results showing that these twelve plays cover a much wider and more innovative range of language than the four theatrical plays from this period in the FRANTEXT corpus, a sample drawn fifty years ago based on a “principle of authority.”

Just looking at declarative sentence negation, I found that in the FRANTEXT corpus the playwrights negate declarative sentences with the ne … pas construction 49 percent of the time. In the twelve randomly sampled plays, the playwrights used ne … pas 75 percent of the time to negate declarative sentences. Because this was a representative sample, I even have a p value below 0.01, based on a chi-square goodness of fit test!

This seems like a good point to release the twelve texts that I have OCRed and cleaned to the public. I have uploaded them to GitHub as HTML files. In this I have been partly inspired by the work of Alex Gil, now my colleague at Columbia University.

You can read them for your own entertainment (Jocrisse-maître et Jocrisse-valet is my favorite), stage your own production of them (I’ll buy tickets!) or use them as data for your scientific investigations. I hope that you will also consider contributing to the repository, by checking for errors in the existing texts, adding new texts from the catalog, or converting them to a different format like TEI or Markdown.

If you do use them in your own studies, please don’t forget to cite me along the lines given below, or even to contact me to discuss co-authorship!

Grieve-Smith, Angus B. (2016). The Digital Parisian Stage Corpus. GitHub. https://github.com/grvsmth/theatredeparis

Posted in Digital humanities, French | Leave a comment

Nobody’s Boy

I got a paper rejected from a generativist conference a few years ago. A generativist friend of mine said, “Why did you bother submitting your paper to that conference? You knew they were going to reject it.” I said, “Well, the conference was in town, so I figured I’d send something in anyway.”

My friend proceeded to tell me a story from her early grad school days about reviewing papers for her school’s signature conference. She sat down one evening with Professor Big Deal, who glanced through the stack of anonymous submissions and sorted them one by one into piles. “This is from one of Professor X’s students, and this is from one of Professor Y’s students. Here’s another from Professor X’s group. This must be Professor Z.” She continued like this until all the papers were sorted, and then as I recall she had some formula for allocating time to each professor and their students.

I think about this a lot, because I’m not a Student Of anyone in particular. On paper I may look like a student of Professor Bigshot, and that’s probably how my paper got accepted to a conference where Professor Bigshot was a keynote speaker. But I’m not really a Student Of Professor Bigshot. I didn’t ask her to be on my committee. And I know she doesn’t think of me as a Student Of hers, because she was sitting in front of me later in that conference, and walked out of the room right before it was my turn to present my paper.

My relationship with my actual advisor is Complicated, but suffice it to say that we don’t work in the same subfield of linguistics, and I’m tied to the New York area, where she doesn’t have the pull to get me a job anyway. My relationships with my other committee members are problematic in various ways. I’m on good terms with plenty of other linguists, but since I’m not their Student their loyalty to me is always secondary.

Even if my friend’s story about Professor Big Deal is an egregious outlier, it is still a regular occurrence to see professors co-authoring and co-presenting papers with their students, making introductions and writing letters. If you know me professionally, I can pretty much guarantee that we were not introduced by Professor Bigshot, or by any member of my committee. If you’ve seen me present my research, or read it anywhere, or hired me, it’s entirely through my own hard work. I have not had any of the advantages that come with being a Student Of anyone.

You could say that it’s my fault for not choosing the right advisors, or for the problems in my relationships with my advisors. In my defense I would argue that most of the problems in these relationships had to do with my supporting my wife’s progress on the tenure track and my kid’s not being in daycare ten hours a day over my own progress on the PhD. But even if you disagree, does that mean that I deserve to be a second-class citizen in the field?

I know I’m not the only academic orphan out there. Maybe we should get together and found a Home for Orphaned Linguists, where we can hope to someday be adopted by professors with generous allocations of reassigned time, who will co-author with us and introduce us and attend our talks. Some day…

Posted in Academia | Leave a comment

Sampling is a labor-saving device

Last month I wrote those words on a slide I was preparing to show to the American Association for Corpus Linguistics, as a part of a presentation of my Digital Parisian Stage Corpus. I was proud of having a truly representative sample of theatrical texts performed in Paris between 1800 and 1815, and thus finding a difference in the use of negation constructions that was not just large but statistically significant. I wanted to convey the importance of this.

20160917_075711

I was thinking about Laplace finding the populations of districts “distributed evenly throughout the Empire,” and Student inventing his t-test to help workers at the Guinness plants determine the statistical significance of their results. Laplace was not after accuracy, he was going for speed. Student was similarly looking for the minimum amount of effort required to produce an acceptable level of accuracy. The whole point was to free resources up for the next task.

I attended one paper at the conference that gave p-values for all its variables, and they were all 0.000. After that talk, I told the student who presented that those values indicated he had oversampled, and he should have stopped collecting data much sooner. “That’s what my advisor said too,” he said, “but this way we’re likely to get statistical significance for other variables we might want to study.”

The student had a point, but it doesn’t seem very – well, “agile” is a word I’ve been hearing a lot lately. In any case, as the conference was wrapping up, it occurred to me that I might have several hours free – on my flight home and before – to work on my research.

My initial impulse was to keep doing what I’ve been doing for the past couple of years: clean up OCRed text and tag it for negation. Then it occurred to me that I really ought to take my own advice. I had achieved statistical significance. That meant it was time to move on!

I have started working on the next chunk of the nineteenth century, from 1816 through 1830. I have also been looking into other variables to examine. I’ve got some ideas, but I’m open to suggestions. Send them if you have them!

Posted in Digital humanities, Sampling, Science | Leave a comment

Shelter from the tweetstorm

It’s happened to me too: I’m angry, or upset, or excited about something. I go on Twitter. I’ve got stuff to say. It’s more than will fit in the 140-character limit, but I don’t have the time or energy to write a blog post. So I just write a tweet. And then another, and another.

I’ve seen other people doing this, and I’m fine with it. But for a while now I’ve seen people doing something more planned, numbering their tweets. Many people try to predict how many tweets are going to be in a particular rant, and often fail spectacularly along the lines of Monty Python’ Spanish Inquisition sketch. Some people are clearly composing the whole thing ahead of time, as a unit. Sometimes they’re not even excited, just telling a story. It’s developing into a genre: the tweetstorm.

I get why people are reluctant to blog in these cases. If you’re already in Twitter and you want to write something longer, you have to switch to a different window, maybe log in, come up with a picture to grab people’s attention. Assuming you already have an account on a blogging platform. It doesn’t help that Twitter sees some of these as competitors and drags its feet on integrating them. And yes, mobile blogging apps still leave a lot to be desired, especially if you’ve got an intermittent connection like on the train.

People also tend to be drawn in easier one tweet at a time, like Beorn meeting the dwarves in the Hobbit. Maybe they don’t feel in the mood for reading something longer, or opening a web browser.

There may also be an aspect of live performance for the tweetstormer and the people who happen to be on Twitter while the storm is passing over, and the thread functions as an inferior archive of the performance, like concert videos. I can understand that too, but it’s a pain for the rest of us.

The problem is that Twitter sucks as a platform for reading longform pieces, or even medium-form ones. Yes, I know they’ve introduced “threading” features to make it easier to follow conversations. That doesn’t mean it’s easy to follow a single person’s multi-tweet rant. Combine that with other people replying in the middle of the “storm” and the original tweeter taking time in the middle to respond to them, and people using the quote feature and replying to quotes and quoting replies, and it gets really chaotic. If I bother to take the time, usually at the end it turns out it’s not worth it.

In terms of Bad Things on Twitter this is nowhere near the level of harassment and death threats, or even people livetweeting Netflix videos. But please, just go write a blog post and post a link. I promise I’ll read it.

What’s worse is that people are encouraging each other to do it. It’s one thing to get outraged on Twitter, or even to see someone else get outraged on Twitter and tell your followers to go check it out. It’s another when you know the whole thing is planned and you tell everyone to Read This. Now.

I get that you think it’s interesting, but that’s not enough for me. Tell me why, and let me decide if it’s worth my time to go reading through all those tweets in reverse chronological order. Better yet, storify that shit and tweet me the URL.

You know what would be even better? Tell that other tweeter, “What an awesome thread! It would make an even better blog post. Do you have a blog?”

Posted in Language politics, Web | Leave a comment

“Said” for 2016 Word of the Year

I just got back from the American Association for Corpus Linguistics conference in Ames, Iowa, and I’m calling the Word of the Year: for 2016 it will be said.

You may think you know said. It’s the past participle of say. You’ve said it yourself many times. What’s so special about it?

What’s special was revealed by Jordan Smith, a graduate student at Iowa State, in his presentation on Saturday afternoon. said is becoming a determiner. It is grammaticizing.

In addition to its participial use (“once the words were said”) you’ve probably seen said used as an attributive adjective (“the said property”). It indicates that the noun it modifies refers to a person, place or thing that has been mentioned recently, with the same noun, and that the speaker/writer expects it to be active in the hearer/reader’s memory.

Attributive said is strongly associated with legal documents, as in its first recorded use in the English Parliament in 1327. The Oxford English Dictionary reports that said was used outside of legal contexts as early as 1973, in the English sitcom Steptoe and Son. In this context it was clearly a joke: a word that evoked law courts used in a lower-class colloquial context.

Jordan Smith examined uses of said in the Corpus of Contemporary American English (COCA) and found that attributive said has increasingly been used without the for several years now, and outside the legal domain. He observes that syntactic changes and increased frequency have been named by linguists like Joan Bybee as harbingers of grammaticization.

Grammaticization (also known as grammaticalization; search for both) is when an ordinary lexical item (like a noun, verb or adjective, or even a phrase) becomes a grammatical item (like a pronoun, preposition or auxiliary verb). For example, while is a noun meaning a period of time, but it was grammaticized to a conjunction indicating simultaneity. Used is an adjective meaning accustomed, as in “I was used to being lonely,” but has also become part of an auxiliary indicating habitual aspect as in “I used to be lonely.”

Jordan is suggesting that said is no longer just a verb or even an adjective, it’s our newest determiner in English. Determiners are an exclusive club of short words that modify nouns. They include articles like an and the, but also demonstratives like these and quantifiers like several.

Noun phrases without a determiner tend to refer to generic categories, as I have been doing with phrases like legal documents and grammaticization. That is clearly not what is going on with said girlfriend. Noun phrases with said refer to a specific item or group of items, in some sense even more so than noun phrases with the.

Thanks to the wireless Internet at the AACL, I began searching for of said on Twitter, and found a ton of examples. There are plenty for in said examples as well.

It’s not just happening in English. The analogous French ledit is also used outside the legal domain. Its reanalysis is a bit different, since it incorporates the article rather than replacing it. Like most noun modifiers in French it is inflected for gender and number. I haven’t found anything similar for Spanish.

In 2013 the American Dialect Society chose because as its Word of the Year. Because is already a conjunction, having grammaticized from the noun cause, but it has been reanalyzed again into a preposition, as in because science. Some theorists consider this to be a further step in grammaticization. And here is a twenty-first century prepositional phrase for you, folks: because (P) said (Det) relationship (N).

After Jordan’s presentation it struck me that said is an excellent candidate for the 2016 Word of the year. And if the ADS isn’t interested, maybe another organization like the International Cognitive Linguistics Association, can sponsor a Grammaticization of the Year.

Posted in Conferences, French, Language change, Syntax, Variation | 3 Comments

On being a public linguist

People say you should stand up for what you believe in. They say you should look out for those less fortunate, and speak up for those who don’t get heard. They say that those of us who come from marginalized backgrounds, like TBLG backgrounds for example, but have enough privilege to be out in relative safety should speak up for those who don’t have that privilege. They say that those of us who have undertaken in-depth study in the interest of society have a particular responsibility to share what we know with the world as “public intellectuals.” They say that we linguists need to do a better job of applying our knowledge to real-world problems and communicating solutions to the public at large.

They’re right of course, but there’s a reason more people don’t do these things. They’re hard to do, and even harder to do right. Lots of people are strongly invested in the status quo and in thinking of themselves as good people, and they don’t like to be told that what they’re doing at best ineffective and at worst harmful. Lots of people think that because they’re trans they know everything there is to know about trans issues, or that because they use language they know everything there is to know about language.

Case in point: after watching with increasing frustration for years as the word “cisgender” was invented and abused, back in December I wrote a series of blog posts about it. I know this is a controversial topic, and I was a bit apprehensive since I was on the job market, but my posts was not idle rants: as a linguist, a trans person, and someone who has observed trans politics for years, I had been trained to do this kind of analysis, and pursued these topics beyond my training.

I anticipated a number of potential objections to my argument and addressed them in the first three posts. As I published each one I was worried it would get a huge backlash, but there was barely a peep (more on that in another post). So for the title of the last one I went big: “The word “cisgender” is anti-trans.” Not much reaction.

A few weeks ago I came across a Facebook post by a gender therapist asking for opinions about “cisgender,” so I left a link to my blog post, identifying it as “my professional opinion as a linguist.” The therapist then shared my post without identifying me as either trans or a linguist.

Then there was a backlash. Several people immediately called my post “garbage” and “horse shit.” There were a handful of substantive disagreements, all of which I had anticipated in my post and previous ones that I had linked to. There was some support, but the vast majority of comments were negative. There were several similar comments made on my blog post itself, most of which I left unpublished since they were repetitive and unhelpful.

I know that plenty of people face far worse reactions to things they post. I didn’t receive any comments on my looks, rape threats or death threats. But it was still very upsetting, particularly as it was posted the same day I began my first full-time job since receiving my Ph.D. – an event that was positive on a number of levels, but upsetting on other levels.

The gender therapist, who presumably helps people with their mental states, showed no interest whatsoever in mine. They made no effort to moderate, did not intervene in the comments, and sent me no personal messages. The idea that a trans person might be losing sleep over these attacks on their page may not have even occurred to them.

The response my post has gotten from other public linguists has been minimal. A columnist who’s written about the issue and encouraged me to write gave my post a few tweets. A radical feminist whose writings about language and politics inspired me for years completely ignored it. It has not been picked up by any of the popular linguistics blogs, or by anyone talking about language, gender and sexuality.

It’s quite possible that these linguists disagree with me. There are some very specific linguistic questions at stake. But linguists love to argue, and I would welcome respectful, constructive engagement with these questions. So far there has been none.

I have also gotten very little support from other linguists. When I was first formulating these arguments a few years ago on Twitter, there were at least two linguists who explicitly denied that I had any standing to contest the arguments for “cis” that they were retweeting. They were satisfied with the flimsiest of pseudolinguistic rationales in pursuit of their political and social goals, and for whatever reasons I did not qualify as an authentic voice of the trans community in their eyes. I stopped following them on Twitter, and as far as I could tell they had no reaction whatsoever to my posts.

I know that a lot of people don’t want to get involved in flamewars on Twitter or Facebook. It’s really hard to know who’s right and who’s wrong. At first glance I look like just another white guy, and I project an image of success and confidence on social media because that’s what everyone tells me I need to do. Some people may disagree with my stance on a political basis.

I mostly came out of the Facebook flareup okay, although it’s hard to tell how much of my insomnia and touchiness relates to that as opposed to other stresses. Re-reading some of those comments just now was pretty upsetting. I made a decision to focus on the new job, and avoided reading comments, posts or links for a week or two. Now it’s blown over – but there’s no telling when it’ll get shared by someone else.

My main point is that being a public linguist isn’t easy. Speaking out isn’t easy. Fighting on your own behalf instead of some Little People somewhere isn’t easy – even if you’ve got a certain amount of privilege. If you’re wondering why people don’t fight for themselves more often, why they don’t speak up, why linguists don’t write more public posts about issues that matter – there’s your answer. It’s much easier to bury your nose in a book and write about grammaticization vs. reanalysis in Old Church Slavonic.

If we really want people to take a stand on these things, we need to support them. We need to stick up for linguists who speak out in public. We need principles that go beyond identity and political and social affiliation. And we need people who are willing to support linguists who speak out based on those principles. We need people who will make themselves available to back up other linguists on the Internet. Without real support, it’s all empty rhetoric.

Posted in Academia, Categorization, Language politics, Semantics, Transgender | 1 Comment