Americans share a common language, but as in other countries, not all people speak it the same way. The U.S. has its own family of dialects that differ by region within its 3.8 million square miles.
People establish a dialect when they live together within set social or geographical boundaries over time. As they use language with limited outside influence, they develop characterizing words, grammar, syntax, and expressions. They also typically form a dialectical accent.
A dialect can even evolve so far as to become a different language. For example, the fifth century German invasion of England brought with it the Germanic Anglo Saxon dialect. As the invaders settled and became separated from their mother country, the dialect continued to fuse and form with surrounding speech until it no longer resembled German at all. Rather, it continued emerging into the English we now know.
The United States has many iterations of English, and different sources categorize them in separate ways. Several sources commonly identify fourteen main regional dialects in America. Estimates of subdialects within those primary groups can vary.
While we would like to explore them all, for our current discussion, we will group the main dialects into large, overarching regions— Southern, Northern, and Western American English—with just a few supporting examples.
American Southern English is perhaps most recognized for its distinctive drawl with longer vowel pronunciations. Another regional distinction can be the dropping of the final r of a word before another word that begins with a vowel (e.g., greater idea is pronounced great-uh idea).
Southern English might also be identified by colloquialisms such as using done as an auxiliary verb (I done already reminded you about the yard work) and using been instead of have been in present perfect constructions (I been building this cabinet for about two weeks).
Two subdialects of Southern include patois such as Virginia Piedmont and Yat. Perhaps the most well-known subdialect, Virginia Piedmont is recognizable by its dropped r from words such as far (pronounced faa), the pronouncing of both pen and pin as pin, and the drawl that produces sounds such as PAY-et for pet.
Influenced by Louisiana French and indigenous to the New Orleans region, Yat draws its name from the colloquial expression where y’at? Those who speak in the dialect might be spotted by their pronunciation of the word curl as COY-ul.
American Northern English includes dialects from New England (e.g., Boston, Rhode Island), New York and the Mid-Atlantic (e.g., Baltimore, Philadelphia), Inland Northern (e.g., Chicago, Detroit), and the U.S. Midland (Ohio, Nebraska, Missouri).
In Boston, as with Virginia Piedmont, you may hear the dropping of the r from words such as car (caa). Dissimilar to elsewhere in the U.S., depending on who’s speaking, father (FAW-thuh) and bother (baa-thuh) don’t always rhyme. You might also hear the word wicked in place of very and references to a tonic (TAWN-ic) for a soft drink.
In certain boroughs of New York (New Yawk), you might hear WAW-duh for water, gonna for going to, and awf for off.
In Philadelphia and surrounding areas, one may hear h-dropping as in YOO-men for human. The word water might also be pronounced as WOO-ter. Some Philadelphians are known to refer to the chocolate sprinkles on ice cream as jimmies as well.
Many Americans can identify Chicagoans by how they refer to their hometown: shi-CAW-go. Other Chicago-isms include gym shoes for sneakers, I got dibs for I have first access, da for the, and pop for soda. They also withdraw money from a cash station.
In St. Louis, you might hear for pronounced as far: What are you acting like that far?
Perhaps because it was settled last by European immigrants on different settlement routes, the American West is less distinct in its dialect than the South and the North.
With close to 40 million people (12 percent of the U.S. population), California has developed its own forms of English, but an identifying regional tongue is yet to be defined. Its most discernible pattern of speech may be the Valley Girl vernacular popularized in the 1980s. The lingo included using like as filler between words and expressions such as gnarly, awesome, totally, and gag me with a spoon.
Other subdialects include New Mexican, Utahan, and Wyomese English.
In American English, the pot is large and the spices are many. Just a few other dialects you may hear as you travel our land might be Cajun, Latino and “Spanglish,” Pennsylvania Dutch, and Yeshiva. Each brings with it a color and a sound that remind us of the endless ways people use language to forge identities and leave creative imprints.
If the article or the existing discussions do not address a thought or question you have on the subject, please use the "Comment" box at the bottom of this page.
Is there a dialect that can explain the hard pronunciation of the “g” in words ending in “ing” such as “walking” – but the g at the end has a touch of the hard “G” sound you might hear in the word “goat”?
I hear it from time to time in California. I’ve noticed it in friends who grew up in the LA area.
Any insight?
Thanks – love your blog!
We are glad you enjoy our exploration of American grammar and writing.
We are not familiar with a classified dialect that includes the treatment you are referring to. American dialects include a vast range of subdialects; it’s possible your example is exclusive to one of them.
I call it the “Law of Conservation of Consonants.” All of the “r”s that are lost when a Bostonian “pahks his cah in Havahd Yahd” show up in Texas where they have “oerl” wells. Actually, I consider myself very fortunate to have served 20 years in the US Navy, a microcosm of American society. I have been exposed to and learned to understand nearly every American dialect. The experience was part of my process of learning that our society’s diversity is a major strength.
I always have found the topic of dialects fascinating — the subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, differences in how we pronounce words or words we use. I must comment on the reference to the word “jimmies” for sprinkles, commonly spread on ice cream. It was interesting to see jimmies associated with Philadelphia. Having come from the Boston area as well as all my family, jimmies was the only term I heard referring to what most people call sprinkles. In fact, I never heard the term sprinkles until I moved from New England for a time.
You’ve stated “Many Americans can identify Chicagoans by how they refer to their hometown: shi-CAW-go.”
Only the people who live in the locale know how to correctly pronounce the name of where they live. The rest of the world needs to accept their pronunciation. For an example, note the horribly offensive pronunciation of Terre Haute, Indiana when people read the name rather than hear the name.
What I am asking is what is this other pronunciation of Chicago? Living in a near-by state, I am unfamiliar with how it is incorrectly pronounced.
People from outside the area often pronounce the city as “Chi-CAH-go” (long a).
Is this possibly also a book? If yes, tell me how to buy a zillion copies.
And…I don’t have an Atlanta accent. It’s just the way you’re listening.
Thanks for the positive feedback. We are glad our article has inspired interest in this topic. We will consider adding to the subject in future articles.
I’m a proud Bostonian/New Englander. I love how the Boston accent is stronger than ever.
A friend of mine’s son married a girl from India. My friend was telling me that her new daughter-in-law knows how to speak six languages!
She thinks that means six completely different languages in India. I’m thinking that’s possibly the same language, but different dialects as you explain in the USA. After reading this article it sounds like it could be both.
India has around 1.3 billion people (about 18% of Earth’s population). The travel resource Berlitz suggests that India has 22 separate official languages, 121 total languages, and 270 mother tongues. Other resources speak of much greater linguistic numbers. One who has lived in India can easily be multilingual within the country’s variations alone, including with different dialects.
I live in an interesting and dynamic border region when it comes to regional dialects: southern Indiana, about 40 miles east of Evansville. My town is just across the Ohio River from Owensboro, Kentucky, so there is a clear upper-south accent, heard most vividly in the pronunciation of I’s and dropping the gerund (“huntin’ and fishin'”).
I’m 50, but when I was in grade school most folks I encountered from Evansville sounded pretty close to what we called the “western Kentucky accent.” Things have changed: the Evansville dialect is taking on a decidedly more midwestern (North Midland) sounds similar to Indianapolis, especially for people under 50. You can even hear touches of St. Louis from time to time (the number 44 sometimes pronounced “farty-far,” for example). It can be heard just one county over near Newburgh, which has basically become a well-off community for Evansville professionals, but not heard as much where I live, which still has a clear upper-south flavor. I sometimes expect it to make its way here, but it’s not likely, as most people still have dealings in Owensboro, which is still firmly South Midland in character.
One other interesting wrinkle in this area: the northern part of Spencer County, Indiana, sounds much more like the North Midlands with perhaps a little less of the St. Louis flavor. Interesting to live in a dialect border area!
I have lived in suburban St. Louis for eight decades. I never knew anyone who said “Highway Farty-Far” until a few years ago, when people who grew up in the city of St. Louis started moving into the suburbs. I also know several people from rural central Illinois who have this same “-ar” pronunciation for the “-or” sound – they also say “arl” for “oil.” I’ve talked with linguists who agree with me that it is likely a holdover from the many Irish immigrants who moved to both north and south St. Louis in the 19th century. In addition, South St. Louis was settled by Germans 150 years ago, and there are still several funny-sounding words that appear to be German in origin.
My favorite linguistic “tell” is “anyways,” which I hear only Wisconsin natives say.