If there is one thing my English and Literature teachers love to pick on,
It’s the way ‘kids these days’ are talking.
To an extent I can sympathize,
Being that their job is to listen to teenagers fumble through oral presentations
with all the verbal capacity of a toddler,
but they seem to think it’s so easy to follow their rules.
They say to us as they tear at their hair, “Speak with authority!”
They laugh and nod along when commercials make a strawman inarticulate adolescent
(How’s that for vocabulary?),
But don’t you think it’s like, kind of weird
That the kid they’re making fun of is always, like, a girl?
And they always make her, like, really dumb and vapid?
And, like, assume that she must be that way ‘cause of, like, how she talks?
And so many people do it that, like, girls start actually talking like that?
And people, like, discourage girls from speaking with, like, any conviction
So we don’t, like, intimidate people or turn them off,
and we should basically act like we’re stupid all the time,
and then they, like, make fun of us when we do?
It’s like we were born into a, like, society that like,
Has a problem with us no matter what we do? Or something?
Like the second we get, like, born with two X-chromosomes and stuff,
However we talk, we still won’t be, like, taken seriously?
You know?
If we tack on question marks to the ends of all our sentences,
It’s because the whole world seems to think we should.
Because if we have to speak up it should be in the most amiable of tones,
Faltering, seeking affirmation, and not really voicing any sort of thought,
Or holding any strength.
And when girls subvert it and speak with what’s called ‘vocal fry’,
You know, when they make their voices all low and creaky
And sound like they’re about to punch somebody out or whatever,
That’s funny too,
Because underneath that growly exterior,
They’re still ineffectual little fairies,
And they should stop pretending,
Because nobody’s impressed.
Nobody ever is.
And I don’t think they ever will be.
Because the truth is, we can do whatever we want.
We can voice each sentence like a question,
Overdose on filler words,
Line everything we say with concessions
Until every time we open our mouths,
All that comes out is one big apology.
And they can keep rolling their eyes,
Mocking us, dismissing us,
Telling us to speak with authority,
But really, I think they’d rather we just not speak at all.