I was idly scrolling through social media last week and stopped on a quote that resonated with me, especially since I feel like three people trapped in one body at times.

“I act different around different people. I’m not fake. I just have my own comfort zone. That’s why I can only be completely myself when I’m with people I’m comfortable with.”

Deep…

Well, not really; but it did have me thinking about the different ways I’m forced to act in different crowds.

Ahhh… the practice of code switching. Never heard of it? It’s when a person alternates between two or more languages, dialects or styles in conversation.

I navigate through a few worlds, so code switching is something I do without even thinking about it. For example, here’s a sample conversation between my sister and I:

*Phone rings*

“Hi. This is Hope.”

“Hope? Is that you? Trynna sound all professional and all.”

*Loud cackle* “Giirrrllll… I didn’t know what number this was. What’s up with you?”

“Just got off work. About to go to this church event. Nothing new over here.”

*Sings* “HALLELUJAH! Won’t He do it?”

“Doing the most as always. Anyways, I didn’t want anything. Just seeing what’s going on with you.”

*In Nigerian accent* “Tank you-ooh! I appreciate. You know I don’t have time for wahala or any kind ting like dat.

“Of course… bye, girl.”

Now, let’s unpack.

I started in a more professional tone, morphed into the girl down the block, switched to Mrs. Igbo Kwenu and then boomeranged back into the girl down the next block.

This is what I go through every day, multiple times a day.

Is it because I’m fake? Not at all. I just have so many points of references and cultural influences that it all spouts out of me at different times. And given the situation, it may act as a survival trait.

Just trying to assimilate. Don’t mind me, folks!

Let’s be clear, though. Code switching to me means subconsciously emphasizing a culture that is already a part of you depending on the environment. It is not patronizing and stereotyping a certain group of people for cool points.

For example, I have some staple words that the east coast won’t let me get rid of, like how I pronounce tournament (TOUR-na-ment not TER-na-mint)—which is obviously the correct way to say it given the spelling. But I find myself sometimes incorporating bits and pieces of my environment to better relate to people.

Are you African? Hello, pidgin English.

Are you trying to talk more professional? Well then, per my previous email, say no more. Two can play that game. Please advise.

If you’re casual, my chiiiild and listennn are bound to come out.

And if you’re a different culture, I’ll try to bridge the gap somehow by finding a phrase or gesture that we can connect with. It’s never in a mocking way, though. It’s quite natural, and I don’t lose my personality while doing it.

As Trevor Noah said,

“I change my tone, I change my accent slightly. It’s a seamless transition that I do without even thinking, like a chameleon. I don’t think that I’m doing it, I just do it.” 

When you’re not being yourself with it or trying too hard, you have crossed the code-switching boundary.

You know the accent that I can’t seem to embody although it absolutely is my environment? The southern one. I can’t be serious and talk in that twang. I’d sound like a caricature.

But I will say that back in school, I would stay jamming Chamillionaire.

So although “mayne, hold up” and “grippin’ the grain” never made it into my vocabulary, I can appreciate the references and include it in my title as a nod to all those who stay twangin’ and slangin’.

See how stupid I sounded?

Anywho, surely I can’t be the only one who code switches. What environments cause you to switch it up?

I’ll discuss more in this week’s podcast. Chamilitary, mayne! (If you know, you know.)