My idiolect
By Luis K. Feliz When I stepped on someone’s sneakers, I said, “My bad” (sorry). When someone was overreacting to something insignificant, I said, “Why are you tripping.” That was during adolescence because since then my idiolect has evolved tremendously. As an immigrant to the United States, when I first settled in New York, I lived in a diverse working-class community. As a result, I mimicked the speech patterns of my neighbors and acquaintances. By the age of eleven, I had a “whole slew of” colloquialism to mark my successful "acculturation." In the microcosm of my community, the emulative process for success was not defined by vying for eloquence but rather by vying for how ungrammatical and non-standard your speech could be. You were in the “know” when you knew the metonymies for the police and other outsiders that threaten the sovereignty of the sub-state. It was a whole different world, with its own lexicon and its own traditions and secrecy. When I progressed in the e...