A Verbal Re-education: Britspeak v. Amerispeak

by Emma Marl

"England and America are two countries separated by the same language."
—George Bernard Shaw, Reader’s Digest, November 1942

When moving to a foreign country you anticipate some culture shock. Everything from learning that a small, thin coin is worth more than a larger, fatter one, to realizing that sugar comes in yellow bags rather than the familiar blue, is to be expected and embraced as part of the experience. A great comfort when I came to the United States from Britain was that I would not also have to grapple with learning a new language. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I was well aware that you have sidewalks where we walk on footpaths, and you put gas in your cars while we pump in petrol. But films and television programmes—make that movies and TV shows—and my numerous visits to the U.S. had done little to reveal the huge disparity that exists between British English and the American language.

To make myself understood, I quickly had to adopt a whole new vocabulary. It soon became habit to decide what I wanted to say, translate it into American in my head, and then speak. Every aspect of daily life required a verbal re-education.

Saying the correct American words when speaking proved to be challenging enough; learning to spell correctly in American was a whole other hill to climb. Colour becomes color, it’s organize rather than organise, and aluminium transforms into aluminum. Did you see "programmes" a couple of paragraphs ago and think it looked weird? I know how that feels!

"You like po-tay-to and I like po-tah-to. You like to-may-to and I like to-mah-to. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to, To-may-to, to-mah-to, Let's call the whole thing off!"
—George and Ira Gershwin, "Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off", 1937

The subtle but crucial differences between British and American English are best illustrated in practice. Here is the same paragraph written in the two languages:

American English

Today I needed some groceries so I went to the store in my SUV. I picked out some food, including chips, fries, cookies, and soda. There was a line at the checkout but it gave me time to search through my purse for my wallet. I was out of cash, so I wrote a check. I loaded my sacks into the trunk of my car, then went to the gas station. I decided to check the oil, so popped the hood. Finally, I took the freeway to get back to my apartment.

British English

Today I needed some shopping so I went to the supermarket in my four-wheel-drive. I chose some food, including crisps, chips, biscuits, and pop. There was a queue to pay but it gave me time to hunt through my handbag for my purse. I didn’t have any cash, so I wrote a cheque. I loaded my carrier bags into the boot of my car, then went to the petrol station. I decided to check the oil, so opened the bonnet. Finally, I drove down the motorway to get back to my flat.

I have probably written the American English paragraph with some distinctly British words or phrases. Even into my third year of study, there is a great deal to learn. Fortunately, the lessons are usually more entertaining than frustrating.

"Fanny pack," for example, always elicits a snigger from British English speakers, as "fanny" is to us a naughty slang word. We call it a "bum bag"—still not a very elegant name. However, most of my fellow countrymen know better than to try to "bum a fag" from you. We would only be asking for a cigarette—honest!

"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things." "The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master - that's all."
—Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass, 1871

My vocabulary is gradually morphing. "Store" and "cell phone" come quicker to mind than "shop" and "mobile phone." I say "sure" more often than "yes," and my conversation is peppered with exclamations of "cool!" When I’m writing, "labor" looks more normal than "labour," and "emphasize" is more naturally typed than "emphasise." Most weeks, I joyfully discover a word or phrase that’s new to me, or new to you.

As surely as I’ve adopted the Seattle uniform of t-shirts and Tevas, the way I speak and write is relentlessly becoming more American. The blank stares or puzzled frowns that frequently used to greet my spoken words are now less common. Even so, I still often end up restating something I just said Brit-style, particularly as my accent has hardly been dented. Sometimes the gulf between British and American English is merely a matter of pronunciation: Take the example of "garage." You say it with a long second ‘a’ and soft ‘g’. The British way is more like "garidge."

I have enthusiastically embraced and adopted such differences. But there is one word at which I have to draw the line. The Gershwins had it—tomato. That’s "to-mah-to." I’ve tried your version and I’m afraid I just can’t do it. Who knew?

Emma Marl, an occasionally homesick British expat, is happy to be a legal alien in the USA. A former journalist, she volunteers as a Zine Editor and is a member of the Writergrrls Founding Board.