John Tobisch | Appreciating Jamaican patois and culture in English schools

After teaching in England for over 19 years, at more than 40 schools, I have had the time to reflect on my journey as an educator. I came over to England from Germany in 2004 after doing a brief stint as a lawyer in Jamaica in 2003. I was eager to sample the new experience as a law and humanities teacher in the United Kingdom. I first taught at a school in the county of Kent. There, I never came across any significant use of Jamaican patois by students.

All that changed for me in the summer of 2004. I chose to stay in England rather than return to Germany. I moved to Birmingham in an ambitious bid to develop a chess and math programme for Afro-Caribbean children. My first experience of Jamaican patois in the classroom was at Handsworth Grammar School. Girls of the Jamaican diaspora were greeting me in patois. It was an interesting affirmation of identity, thousands of miles from Jamaica.

In Birmingham, I encountered a relatively small Afro-Caribbean community. I met with prominent members of the Jamaican diaspora. I also met with the small Grenadian community, and they, too, would resort to patois once in a while. Jamaican culture was everywhere. There was a Jamaican jerk centre near to Aston Villa’s stadium and even a man selling sky juice out of a cart, which made it look like something out of downtown Kingston.

‘BARE HARAM’

By the fall of 2005, I moved to London to teach A-level law, history, and religious education. I was fascinated by the fact that students who did not have an Afro-Caribbean background used patois either as a greeting -“wah gwan”- or as a way to sound cool. This included Muslim girls. I heard one of them using the phrase “bare haram”, combining patois with Arabic. ‘Bare’ means ‘nothing but.’ And ‘haram’ means ‘forbidden.’ So this Muslim girl was complaining in Jamaican patois about the heavy burden of traditional Islamic restrictions!

I have also heard a Russian boy speak perfect patois. I soon realised that the teenagers delve deeply into the world of Youtube, Tik Tok, and chat groups to learn this patois that makes them get access to the cool factor that the language gives them. I was really struck when a South African girl in Camden told me that she felt that every teenager in London has a “Jamaican” phase and also an “African” phase.

One day I was in an English class when out of the blue, a lovely student called me “jamazing”. I was so struck by this. The boy was not Afro-Caribbean or Jamaican. An English working -class boy came up with that word. And it stuck with me. It was also at this time that I came across an English rapper by the name of Harry Shotta, and I found out that he fused his English with some Jamaican patois. It was amazing to hear this. Or, I should say, jamazing!

By around 2013, I was introduced to dubstep, a subgenre of dub. Dubstep and jungle are musical genres in which the Jamaican accent and patois thrive when delivered with a hyper masculine voice. Some of the rappers, like Flowdan, clearly had Jamaican roots. Then there was also grime, the Black British electronic rap/hip-hop genre that originated in East London in the 2000s.

VYBZ KARTEL

Teaching in East London in 2015 gave me a greater awareness of how much impact Jamaican patois had on students in different colleges and sixth forms. Asian students would tell me how they tried jerk chicken and asked me if Vybz Kartel lived in Portmore, Jamaica, which stunned me. On a London bus, I heard English girls singing Vybz Kartel’s lyrics word for word. This showed me the power of YouTube. It was clear that the digital presence of Jamaican culture had an impact in London that transcended ethnic and religious differences. Muslim students clearly knew Jamaican curse words.

In 2021-2022 I was teaching law at Sir George Monoux College. I heard a fellow law lecturer talking about eating Jamaican food, and he clearly knew patois as well. Interestingly, in many colleges, Jamaican food is served. Patties are quite popular. I even had Jamaican food in a free school in Kensal Rise. Jamaican students were there in some numbers, and they were obviously using patois as an affirmation of identity. I also heard some girls correct a girl from the Dominican Republic about some choice Jamaican words and what they really meant.

The socio-linguistic dynamic between London teenagers undeniably demonstrates the dominance of Jamaican patois as a form of social currency. It is definitely cool to speak this language. Jamaican patois is the social lubricant that brings teenagers across the country together. Jamaican culture continues to permeate various echelons of English society. I hope Jamaicans in Jamaica realise just how much Jamaica punches way above its weight in terms of cultural outreach in one of the world’s leading cities. The global impact of Jamaican culture, particularly language, is truly jamazing.

John Tobisch is a teacher of history and sociology law. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com