Like his creator, Fill-the-Space Chase comes from Cajun stock. The following letter was written by his Uncle Gaston, who lives in Gueydan, Louisiana, to catch up Chase’s father, Trosclair, on the goings on of two young lovers, ‘tite Clement and ‘tite Etienne, who just moved back home from Lafayette. The Cajun word “mais” means “well”, the contraction ‘tite stands for petite, which means small, like Chase, BeakSpeak’s bantum cockerel. “Tite neg” and “chere” are words of endearment. The letter is for adults only, though, honestly, I doubt children, and even some adults, will ever get through the whole letter because of its ridiculous grammar and spelling. If you can, try to enjoy it. 😉
Hey, ‘tite neg. How you do, chere? Guess who’s back in town, yeh? I find out, you know, two, tree times ago, ‘tite Clement and ‘tite Etienne hatch, uh, ‘tite Clotile. Mais, ‘tite Clement gives wit, like, a sigh and she saids: “mais, dat was easy, yeh!” Den she, you know, tink, me and ‘tite Etiennee, like, we tried again nax mont, too den.” “Tite Etienne, uh, he was heard all a dat, yeh, an he make wit de big grin and, uh, de twinkdle in his eyeball and saids: “‘Tite Clement, voulez-vous couche avec moi, chere?” ‘Tite Cllement, she saids: “Ah, mais oui, like, let’s go and rat now!” 1 mont in the back o dat, dey hatched anudder ‘tite chirren chick name of ‘tite Pierre, and ‘tite Clement saids again, “Mais dat was easy too, yeh.” Well, ‘tite Etienne, who don’t need no encourage to make him smile agin, saids: “uh, ‘tite Clement, voulez-vous couche avec moi, chere. Me I feel dem wild oats again, yeh.” ‘Tite Clement, she catch on by dis time, yeh, and she saids: “Mais, let me use dis pill what dat female chicken chirren doctor give me befor, den lets go and rat now!” De next 21 days become a BIG TAIL, yeh, and ‘tite Clement, she don know nuttin what’s easy no mo, no. De small and big size of it go like dis:
Her female chicken chirren doctor she saids: “‘Tite Clement, you done got a deuce in de hole, chere – a double-yolk egg! Don you use de pill I done give you or did you forgot dat? ‘Tite Clement, she tink, and she tink, and she tink some mo, den she saids: “Mais, yes, maam, female chicken chirren doctor. We use de pill, but it don took. ‘Tite Etienne, he feel dem wild double oats and the pill it fall out dat same day.”
My Cajun chicken story was good for a laugh, and a laugh is sorely needed to diffuse all that’s going on in the world right now; however, what we really need is to teach our children and each other how to get along and have compassion for others. As a retired English teacher, I believe we also need to teach our children how to say exactly what they mean when they speak and write what the British call our “bastard” American English. They call it this because our English is an amalgamation of all the immigrant languages that came to this country through the ages. They added words and phrases to our language, some of which we aren’t even are aware. That’s how ingrained they are.
As long as American English is the primary language in this country, though, we need to be pouring money into teaching the youth to improve how they speak and write it. Don’t steal money from the children; doing so is stealing from our future. Pour money into quality teachers, too, instead of bullet-proof backpacks. I’m not anti-immigrant; I’m not pro-immigrants, though I am one myself; I’m pro-children, who are all victims of our selfish interests. We need to focus on keeping them safe, yes, but we also need to continue to help them speak and write more specifically so that that they can advance their carers and succeed in their relationships. It isn’t too late.
As you know, I owned many breeds of chickens, some passive and some aggressive. I love them all because of the diversity they represented. If you plucked them, they all had the same flesh, bled the same red, and tasted like chicken. I’d die before I’d eat one of them, but I have eaten chicken. They all taste the same. All this tells us is that life is life: insect, reptile, bird, cow, horse, person. When I learned to accept and embrace diversity, I learned to accept my good qualities, my imperfections and my heritage. I learned to love and appreciate myself and all of life. I became proud of the cultural assimilation that contributed to my uniqueness. Let’s model the same to our children.