Letter to the editor

It is quite perplexing to observe such a peculiar reaction and distain towards and of the next generation and their form of communication. Whether it is perceived as a valid form of proper or standard English it should not be discriminated against by employers, who for a fact primer their target audience to the next generation who have been raised with this form of speech. As John McWhorter pointed out during a TedTalk on textspcak as far back as 63 AD people were complaining about the change in language used by the next generation and spat at it as if it were the devil’s work. A similar animosity can be seen by many people of older generations in today’s society, especially when it comes to interviewers and hiring executives as can be seen in the article, “Young Job Candidates Find Too-Casual Tone of Textspeak Turns Off Hiring Managers” by Sarah E. Needleman.

In many segments of this article you can see hiring managers seemingly putting themselves in the direct cross hair of textspeack and appearing shocked and dumbfounded that they are bombarded by it every single time. It is almost comparable to an amnesiac touching a hot pot over and over again not remember the previous time. Such an example would be, “her cell number is on her business card, which she gave to the candidate… ‘It's infringing a bit on your personal space,’ … the candidate wasn't hired partly for this reason.” She being Cathy Chin a hiring manager should have know that she had put her personal number on a card that she gave to hundreds that she would be contacted on that number. The tower or spire of superiority and dominance that many of these hiring agents can appear to show a disconnect almost as if they view the interviewees as being surfs in there kingdom, if they talk in properly and not in the queens English they are executed to brushed away. Is that kind of hatred and disrespect for the upcoming generation what you really want in a hiring agent who determines your child’s future?

Evidentially the more “casual” language is actually where are world as a whole is heading and has been heading ever since the creation of language, the easier speech and communication is the more efficient and productive a society and be as a whole. Would you not agree?

Excerpts from Johnny Cash's private Journal

From the Private journal of Johnny Cash

-Sometime in 1954-

Luther, Marshall and I have just finished the Hey Porter track for Sun Records, Sam was very pleased with the work we did, he said it was several steps ahead of our gospel songs. I agree with him to an extent, I fear I am slowly slipping further from my beginning, I hope my Mother is still pleased with how I’ve done. I have this thought of a song, there is a woman in my life I just got to stop spending time with her, I’m sure many others have been in the same spot as I am in. A girl that is always begging me to come back when I’m gone but when I’m there all she does is lie, lie, lie. If I leave I bet she’ll cry, cry, cry. That’s it I’ve got to start writing.

Sam was ecstatic its now the B-side for Hey Porter, It hits home for me and I hope that others might have a similar view of how some women are, especially down here in the south.

Copies are flying off the shelves. Tens of thousand of copies nearly 100,000 sold, they are sellin like biscuits on chilly November day.

-Sometime in late 1960’s-

Folsom prison, we are all feeling trapped by our constraints of life and due to our somewhat lower economical standing then others. As I fell further from home I feel as if I have straid from the path as many of us due, the path we were set by our family and parents we don’t seem to realize the righteousness and carrying of our parents and how they set out to benefit us to the best of their extent. We all feel the pain, the trapped jail nature of life slowly squeezing every ounce of will we have left in our souls. In many respects there might not be a path out that we can reach however we have to try, and dream for the best a pray one day we might end up as some of those rich folks in their fancy cars.

-Sometime in early 1994-

My life has been full of pain, I have pushed those who are closeted to me I have lived a life of pain and regret all the drugs and women ive had has become to much for me. I am worth nothing my legacy is a mountain of dirt for my children, Oh god what have I become. Everyone I no just goes away in the end, I am such a disappointment, Oh if ONLY I COULD START AGAIN.

I hope others can find some relation in my next song, it is about the pain and Hurt I have experience and how it has affect all of those closest to me in my life.

I fear I have little time left, but I welcome death and shall not fear leaving for the final time. The darkness is nothing new to me and that has always been the case.

Speak Good by Julio Hernandez

As immigrants in the USA my family often ran into hard times in regards to being accepted socially however luckily there were many other immigrants from Mexico, typically running small stores for produce or other forms of “comida”. When we first came I was very young only three or four years of age “mis padres y hermanos” were much older than I and remember how It was like to come into this country. They always had comical stories of how “Los Americanos” spoke Spanish, they would be saying things like “Me lamo” or “Tengo an-os” just thinking of it brings tears to my eyes.

To give some more background we moved from Mexico City all the way to Ohio, which is a state next to the great lakes and is quite north in respects to the USA. This mean there was a great climate change for us, on average every winter it got well below 0 degrees. However, It didn’t bother me I was always intrigued by the snow and its wondrous properties it always glistened even when it appeared that there was no “sol”around. My family weren’t very rich so we had to live in “un casa pequena” we were happy to be there and have such a wonderful opportunity, however some were not too keen on us being there.

Due to my family living in Mexico for most of their lives they developed a strong accent and way of speaking that carried through to english or any other language they were trying to learn. “Mis hermanos” had a very hard time in school learning English and often were made fun of with words like “Beaner” or “Alien” I never understood why so much hatred could be focused on others just because of their speech. There was one time when “mi hermano mayor” tried to asked a student what the homework was after he had been absent the day prior. This did not please the other student who unleashed a verbal barrage of how he wouldn't be associated with the likes of some beaner who couldn't “speak good”. This boy was from the inner city as many of the other students were, however he also spoke of his discrimination because of his skin, that I couldn’t comprehend at the time. Why would someone be discriminated by their identity, by who they are as a person, and if was truly discriminated then why was starting the same vicious cycle against my brother.

This wasn’t only one of many occasions where “mi familia” was hated or hurt by others because we couldn’t “speak good”. Luckily I wasn’t old enough for elementary school when we arrived so I attended preschool and kindergarten where we were not separated by our race, language or even appreciations in life. We were all together in such an infant state where we weren’t influenced by others on what we can and can’t do or believe. But, even that enjoyment wouldn’t last in the ladder of kindergarten I started to notice changes in my friends and fellow students, one by one they started to split off into interest groups, and then by race and finally by language. Once again I was lucky because my brain was still not molded into a strict pattern I was capable of socializing with both Spanish and English speaking students. Some were not as lucky typically outcasted in the playground and shunned from any group, these were the non-christians and the non-english speakers. Lost amongst the crowds incapable of socializing.

There was a girl, she was unfortunately cursed to bear the cross of not “speaking good”, I started to notice her around February always in a corner or in the shadows, I never saw her with friends or talking with anyone, she had long hair a brown eyes the size of those huge bouncy balls. I only saw her look up and immediately run away after I attempted to approach her one day, she seemed very she and didn’t seem like she even wasn’t friends. It was almost as if she accepted to pain and knew only that pain of loneliness and discrimination from those who claim to feel the pain and seek out to stop it.

That day I realized no matter who you are and how kind or nice you may be you will be incapable of appreciation unless you “Speak Good”.