All the Things You Can Do With Your Tongue

How language displaces and reshapes identity

Train station for Trelew, Argentina (author’s hometown).

You kiss, you savour, you make a promise, you curse, you name your child’s name for the first time, you lick, you click, you share your inheritance when you tell an anecdote, you pass on your traditions when you say a prayer, you preserve the future when you read a story out loud.

You wave the thread of generations and family by repeating an idiomatic expression you heard your grandparents say, you reaffirm your place in the world by choosing to say “biscuit” instead of “cookie.”

A child learns what their fraction of the world is when they hear the word “biscuit” pronounced repeatedly, they identify with a way of using the language, they build a sense of belonging when they associate the particular use of language with their fraction of the world.

You say where you come from when you chose to maintain your accent in a foreign society who may look down on you.

You resist.

You survive when you blend with the way others speak.

You undergo mutation.

You shorten distance by talking to someone in their tongue, you keep someone at bay when you cannot refrain from speaking your language.