By Deborah Fallows
Let’s let the Mainers speak for themselves! I’ve tried and tried to describe what Maine-talk sounds like, but I can’t even get close. When I emailed an old friend who grew up in Bangor about the general term of agreement -- the “yup” word – I wrote to him “ah yep”, and he shot back “No, no, no. Ay-yuh.”
OK. Uncle. I’ll never pass as a Mainer. But here, thanks to YouTube, is a bona fide Downeasterner, from Eastport no less, who claims he can teach you in one quick easy lesson how to speak like a Mainer:
I heard all this and more during our recent visit to Eastport. And I also stumbled across a great example of an endeavor that linguists call “language planning.” Language planning can take lots of forms: it can be official, like decreeing Canada a bilingual country; or it can be accommodating, like printing voting ballots in multiple languages; or it can be stamping approval, like the dictionaries regularly do when they formally accept new words or new usage in a language.
I would say that little Eastport, Maine, is engaged in some deliberate language planning of its own. Why? Just as Eastporters are looking to the power of the ocean tides to create energy for the world, they are looking to the power of language to create energy for the town. They are changing the public language of the town by talking positive. Here are some of the stories:
Crowd out DE- with RE- : The Commons of Eastport is a place that could be described as a local artisan gallery plus events center, with also small boutique rental units.
We rented one of the units during our recent stay in Eastport. The Commons, along with the Waco Diner (pronounced "wacko"; our daily breakfast), the Happy Crab (daily lunch), the Liberty Café (daily dinner) and Dastardly Dick’s (daily latte) are probably the 5 year-round centers of action along Eastport’s main street, Water Street. They are always full of people, who seem to punctuate their days by stopping in one or another of the places from time to time. We found that if we were looking for someone, we could just hang out in one spot or another, and that person would be likely to eventually drop by.
The Women of The Commons, as the group of founders call themselves, are some of the cultural stake-setters of Eastport. They have built this place, and three among them are planning a second more ambitious project. The women have been at this a long time, about a dozen years now, building with conservative patience and care, and yet the enthusiasm of a startup.
Linda Godfrey, who is one of the partners, told me how she and some other women noticed several years back – when Eastport was beginning to show its colors – that in reporting about the town, media seemed stuck in how they were referring to Eastport.
She pointed to what they called the DE- words: “The most used de-words were words like: depressed, dependent, decline, despair, and were usually used in comments about economics, services, schools, population.” And continues, “it just seemed the "de" words were ever-present -- even if the story itself was a positive one -- the last paragraph left a negative conclusion.”