We each bring to Yale a unique dialect, a distinct way of speaking shaped by the places we call home. A small but quintessential part of being a Yale student is hearing a friend utter an absurd idiom or call a mundane object by some hilarious name. It turns out that, in Alabama, “the devil beats his wife” whenever there’s a sun shower, and in Boston, kids drink from “bubblers” and put “jimmies” on their ice cream. Usually, without even realizing it, we adopt the idioms and phrases that are common throughout the places we live. The way we speak, in turn, reflects the spaces around us.

Yale also has a unique dialect. The Yale Dialect allows us to discuss complicated topics with nuance and precision. Further, it reflects our community norms and values. In doing this, it simultaneously seeks to guarantee free speech and to foster inclusivity –– core values of a liberal arts education. 

However, the Yale Dialect doesn’t have a handbook. It isn’t a single, codified way of speaking. Rather, the Yale Dialect has many forms that are eclectic syntheses of our own unique tongues. Dialects exist because the caveats of language are not universal. As a result, when we come to Yale, our dialects –– which reflect regional and cultural norms –– come into conflict. Obviously, this doesn’t mean we can’t understand each other. Instead, it means the social norms that our unique dialects reflect are at odds. As a result, it takes a bit of work for us to build a dialect that allows for mutual understanding and inclusivity.

 We all agree that both free speech and inclusivity are of paramount importance at a liberal arts institution. Yet, members of our community have fundamentally different understandings of these aspirations. Recent events at Yale Law School illustrate these differences in understanding. These disagreements arise from our reactions to the conflicting norms present in the Yale Dialect.

 Some regional norms, quite frankly, defy our common values at Yale. Many regions are still profoundly dominated by the heteropatriarchy. Dialects in these regions often reflect an ongoing disregard for inclusivity. However, the people who reproduce this speech are not morally culpable so long as their intentions are not malicious. Even if their way of speaking inadvertently reproduces the heteropatriarchy, their values may be, and often are, in line with those of the greater Yale community.

Nevertheless, speech that reproduces values that defy inclusivity is counterproductive to the goals of the Yale Dialect. It is at this point that Yalies diverge. As was seen at the Law School, many students choose to call out speakers who reproduce social norms that they see as antithetical to inclusivity. Understandably, many students and faculty resent the heteropatriarchy. That said, we have to understand that an individual’s speech — including the terms and expressions they believe to be reasonably inclusive — does not necessarily reflect their values at face value. Instead, their speech reflects existing hierarchies that have been woven into quotidian language. Maligning one well-meaning speaker for the evils of an entire system is a horrible misjustice.

A far better way to promote inclusivity is to promote charitability and open dialogue. The Yale Dialect will come to better balance regional differences if we opt for charitable conversation over cancel culture. Charitability does not demand that we accept harmful speech, but instead asks us to give a speaker the benefit of the doubt when speech is ambiguous or when a speaker’s intentions are unclear. Moreover, chastising an individual whose speech runs counter to institutional norms is exclusive. Shaming an individual in the public square for speech shaped by forces outside their control cuts them off from the conversation instead of drawing them into open and productive dialogue.

In any open dialogue, some responsibility rests in the speaker and some in the listener. The speaker is obligated to communicate their ideas inclusively. The listener is obligated to consider the speaker’s ideas charitably, and to remember that, just because, prima facie, a speaker seems to hold opposing values, it doesn’t mean that person is acting with malice. As Atticus Finch said, “You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view; until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” A listener in a cosmopolitan place like Yale is tasked with doing just this.

The Yale Dialect only works when we realize and appreciate that, although our peers may speak differently than us and in ways that might appear contrary to institutional values, their intentions are not clearly meant to defy inclusivity. The best way to nurture mutual understanding, inclusivity and productive conversation is to remember that we come from different backgrounds and to give our peers the charitability that we hope for ourselves.

JEFF CIESLIKOWSKI is a senior in Benjamin Franklin College. Contact him at jeff.cieslikowski@yale.edu. He served as the President of the Yale Political Union from May to December 2020. MARK VITI is a sophomore in Benjamin Franklin College. He is the Floor Leader of the Right in the Yale Political Union. Contact him at mark.viti@yale.edu.

JEFF CIESLIKOWSKI
MARK VITI