I have a strong South London accent. Nobody in America hears the difference but people in London used to comment on it often. Which is a large part of why I moved to New York. Everyone here assumes I’m related to the Queen or that I must be clever. It’s better than them thinking it was a choice between “doing Public Relations” and driving a taxi for a living. (*No disrespect to taxi drivers).
The other day I played squash with an Italian attorney who told me he’s going to elocution lessons to reduce his accent so that he can make partner. It made me sad to hear it, and I told him he was good enough to make partner regardless. That I thought he shouldn’t waste time and energy on trying to fix something that wasn’t broken. I said I thought he should focus on being the best attorney he could be.
I enjoyed watching a documentary recently about the hair stylist, Vidal Sassoon. Born in London’s East End, he went to lessons with an actor to lose his cockney accent after being rejected for a job at Raymond’s, the snootiest West End salon in the 1950s, because he sounded too “common.” Then he made billions of dollars doing hairdressing. But he suffered a lot, I think, from having to be such a chameleon. It was evident in his life story that he became very focused on his image and that his personal relationships suffered.
Obviously, accents are a signifier for class. But they also stem from race, often, and an intersection of our other identities. So those of us who can switch our accents are in many ways in a privileged position.
The feedback I’ve got, though, for those of us wondering if our accents matter is this: They do. Because a lot of people form snap judgements. But that’s not to say you should change your accent. Instead, find people who choose to work with you regardless.
If people are prepared to be imaginative enough to realize your accent has got nothing to do with how quickly you think, then they’re the kind of people to build sustained relationships with.
The same goes for appearing on television, or elsewhere in media. I urge people to remember: You have something to offer. You deserve to be here. It doesn’t matter how your accent sounds or even what you’re wearing. Remember that you were asked to appear because your ideas have value. And let’s start from there.
Does My Accent Matter?
