BUSHONICS SPEAKERS STRIKE BACK
WE’RE MAD AS HELL AND WE WON’T BE
MISUNDERESTIMATED
ANYMORE!
March 19, 2001 -- The day Lisa Shaw’s son
Tyler came home from school with tears streaming down his cheeks, the
34-year-old Crawford, Texas, homemaker, knew things had gone too far.
“All of Tyler’s varying and sundry
friends was making fun of the way he talked,” Shaw says. “I am not
a revengeful person, but I couldn’t let this behaviorism slip into
acceptability. This is not the way America is about.”
Shaw and her son are two of a surprising number of
Americans who speak a form of nonstandard English that linguists have dubbed
“Bushonics,” in honor of the dialect’s most famous speaker,
President George W. Bush. The most striking features of Bushonics—tangled
syntax, mispronunciations, run-on sentences, misplaced modifiers and a wanton
disregard for subject-verb agreement—are generally considered to be
“bad” or “ungrammatical” by linguists and society at
large.
But that attitude may be changing. Bushonics
speakers, emboldened by the Bush presidency, are beginning to make their voices
heard. Lisa Shaw has formed a support group for local speakers of the dialect
and is demanding that her son’s school offer “a full-blown up
apologism.”
And a growing number of linguists argue that
Bushonics isn’t a collection of language “mistakes” but
rather a well-formed linguistic system, with its own lexical, phonological and
syntactic patterns.
“These people are greatly
misunderestimated,” says University of Texas linguistics professor James
Bundy, himself a Bushonics speaker.
“They’re not lacking in intelligence
facilities by any stretch of the mind. They just have a differing way of
speechifying.”
It’s difficult to say just how many Bushonics
speakers there are in America, although professor Bundy claims “their
numbers are legionary.”
Many who speak the dialect are ashamed to utter it
in public and will only open up to a group of fellow speakers. One known hotbed
of Bushonics is Crawford, the tiny central Texas town near the
president’s 1,600-acre ranch. Other centers are said to include Austin
and Midland, Texas, New Haven, Conn., and Kennebunkport, Maine.
Bushonics is widely spoken in corporate boardrooms,
and has long been considered a kind of secret language among members of the
fraternity Delta Kappa Epsilon. Bushonics speakers have ascended to top jobs at
places like the Internal Revenue Service and the Department of Health and Human
Services.
By far the greatest concentration of Bushonics
speakers is found in the U.S. military. Former Secretary of State Alexander
Haig is only the most well known Bushonics speaker to serve with distinction in
America’s armed forces. Among the military’s top brass, the dialect
is considered to be the unofficial language of the Pentagon.
Former President George H.W. Bush spoke a somewhat
diluted form of the dialect that bears his family’s name, which may have
influenced his choice for vice president, Dan Quayle, who spoke an Indiana
strain of Bushonics.
The impressive list of people who speak the dialect
is a frequent topic at Lisa Shaw’s weekly gathering of Bushonics
speakers. That so many members of their linguistic community have risen to positions
of power comes as a comfort to the group, and a source of inspiration.
“We feel a good deal less aloneness, my guess
is you would want to call it,” Shaw says. “It just goes to show the
living proof that expectations rise above that which is expected.”
Some linguists still contend, however, that the
term “Bushonics” is being used as a crutch to excuse poor grammar
and sloppy logic.
“I’m sorry, but these people simply
don’t know how to talk properly,” says Thomas Gayle, a speech
professor at Stanford University. Professor Gayle was raised by Bushonic
parents, and says he occasionally catches himself lapsing into the dialect.
“When it happens, it can be very
misconcerting,” Gayle says. “I understand Bushonics. I was one. But
under full analyzation, it’s really just an excuse to stay
stupider.”
It’s talk like that that angers many
Bushonics speakers, who say they’re routinely the victims of prejudice.
“The attacks on Bushonics demonstrate a lack
of compassion and amount to little more than hate speech,” says a
prominent Bushonics leader who spoke on the condition that his quote be
“cleaned up.”
Increasingly, members of the Bushonics community
are fighting back. Lisa Shaw’s Crawford-based group is pressing the local
school board to institute bilingual classes, and to eliminate the study of
English grammar altogether. “It’s an orientation of being
fairness-based,” Shaw says.
A Bushonics group in New England has embarked on an
ambitious project to translate key historical documents into the dialect,
beginning with the Bill of Rights. (For instance, the Second Amendment rendered
into Bushonics reads: “Guns. They’re American, for the regulated
militia and the people to bear. Can’t take them away for infringement
purposes. Not never.”)
Bushonics activists say they’ll keep fighting
as long as there are still children who come home from school crying because
their classmates can’t understand a word they’re saying. Lisa Shaw
hopes that every American will heed the words of the nation’s No. 1
Bushonics speaker, and vow to be a uniter, not a divider.
“We shouldn’t be cutting down the pie
smaller,” Shaw says with quiet dignity. “We ought to make the pie
higher.”
ABOUT THE
WRITER:
Tom McNichol is a San Francisco writer whose work has appeared in the New York Times Magazine, the Washington Post, Spy, Punch and other publications. His radio commentaries have aired on National Public Radio’s “All Things Considered.”