A Black professional enters a job interview, adjusting their tone and carefully selecting their words. Experience has taught them that the “King’s English” must be their vernacular of choice—anything else might leave the wrong impression. It’s not that they doubt their qualifications; they know they’re capable. But they also know that in a society where language often serves as a gatekeeper to opportunity, their natural speech could be perceived as unprofessional or unpolished. While some professionals see this adjustment as adaptive, for others, it crosses over to the realm of assimilation.
This linguistic shift is known as code-switching—the practice of adjusting language, tone, or speech patterns depending on the audience or environment. While linguists initially used code-switching to refer to language alternation in bilingual speech, the term has evolved. In professional settings, this often takes the form of using a “Professional Voice”—a polished, carefully modulated tone that aligns with workplace expectations. Some call it the “Telephone Voice” or “Interview Voice,” a refined way of speaking that ensures credibility and acceptance in professional spaces. Others, more critically, name it the “White Voice,” a term that highlights the racialized expectations around speech and the need to conform to dominant linguistic norms.
Regardless of the label, the reality remains the same: for many, adjusting one’s speech isn’t just a conscious decision but a deeply ingrained habit—an automatic response to navigating spaces where linguistic diversity is too often devalued.
Some view code-switching as a necessary skill, while others see it as a practice that forces Black individuals and other people of color to suppress their natural speech to conform to white-centered expectations. The very notion of professionalism and the standards that define it are deeply rooted in oppressive perspectives, often upholding whiteness as the default and devaluing diverse linguistic expressions. Professionalism is not an objective standard—it is a social construct shaped by white Western norms. The expectation that Black professionals must code-switch to be taken seriously reinforces this hierarchy rather than dismantling it.
This struggle is deeply connected to what sociologist W.E.B. Du Bois described as “double consciousness” in The Souls of Black Folk (1903). Du Bois articulated the experience of Black Americans as having to constantly navigate two identities—one rooted in their Black heritage and another shaped by the dominant white gaze. This dual awareness forces many Black individuals to view themselves through the lens of societal expectations, knowing that how they present—including how they speak—can dictate their access to opportunities. The burden of this linguistic double consciousness is reflected in the way Black professionals and students modify their speech to avoid bias, gain credibility, and minimize the risk of being seen as unpolished or unintelligent.
“It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,—an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.”
W.E.B. DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk
Code-switching has long been employed as a tool of survival, a strategy used by Black professionals and other people of color to access spaces where dominant cultural norms dictate what is considered “professional” or “respectable.” However, the need to code-switch highlights a fundamental inequity—the idea that one must sacrifice linguistic authenticity to gain access, be taken seriously, or be deemed competent. Authenticity should not be a liability. No one should have to alter the richness and cultural depth of their natural expression just to meet a standard of professionalism rooted in exclusionary ideals. True linguistic justice demands that respect and credibility are not contingent on conformity but instead recognize the value of all forms of communication.
For decades, code-switching has been necessary for survival in white-dominated spaces, but the question remains: why should Black professionals and other racially marginalized individuals have to alter their speech just to be taken seriously? Why must professionalism be equated with whiteness? These questions are at the heart of linguistic justice and the shift toward code-meshing—the practice of blending different dialects, languages, and linguistic styles rather than compartmentalizing them.
The consequences of linguistic discrimination extend beyond workplaces and into classrooms, where Black students and other multilingual or students with accents are often penalized for their natural speech patterns. Many educators, consciously or unconsciously, associate certain dialects and accents with lower intelligence or lack of academic readiness. This bias influences how students are graded, disciplined, and assessed.
For example, Black students who use African American Vernacular English (AAVE) in the classroom may be told their speech is “incorrect” rather than recognized as a legitimate linguistic system with its own grammar and structure. These misperceptions of intelligence based on dialect and accent contribute to racial disparities in education, from standardized testing outcomes to access to advanced coursework.
Fluency in a dominant language does not determine intelligence, yet accents and dialects are often used as unfair measures of competence. True intelligence lies in understanding and communicating effectively—not in mimicking a privileged pseudo-standard.
Rather than requiring professionals and students to abandon their cultural ways of speaking, linguistic justice in education and the workplace calls for a shift toward code-meshing—blending different dialects and speech patterns without erasure. Some progressive educators have embraced this by allowing students to write using a mix of their natural dialect and Standard American English, recognizing that linguistic diversity enhances rather than detracts from communication.
Linguicism, a term introduced by Tove Skutnabb-Kangas, refers to the belief that some languages or dialects are superior to others, leading to discrimination based on speech patterns. In the U.S., African American Vernacular English (AAVE), Caribbean English, and other Black linguistic styles have been systematically stigmatized, reinforcing racial hierarchies in education, employment, and media representation. Black linguists such as Dr. Geneva Smitherman, Dr. April Baker-Bell, and Dr. Anne Charity Hudley have been leading the charge in dismantling these discriminatory structures and advocating for linguistic justice, which affirms and protects all linguistic identities.
It’s time to challenge assumptions about professionalism and rethink what truly defines expertise and intelligence.
To Black professionals, students, and other racially marginalized individuals navigating these challenges: your diverse and culturally rich expression adds depth and richness to language and communication. It is a source of strength, not something to be devalued or minimized. Embracing linguistic authenticity is an act of resistance, a reclaiming of identity, and a declaration that your voice and your language matter.
Another installment of melanated mail has been delivered. Ponder, reflect, and pass it on.
Sources:
ResearchGate – Code-Switching and Code-Meshing: Is There a Difference?
American University Library – Linguistic Discrimination and Justice
ScholarWorks – Code-Switching and Linguistic Bias in Education
The Souls of Black Folk:
Du Bois, W.E.B. The Souls of Black Folk. Chicago: A.C. McClurg & Co., 1903.
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