I was called a linguist last night.  Well, all of my classmates and I were called linguists last night, albeit unpaid and non-professional linguists.  Our professor said that because we study the language, understand most of the workings of it, and understand the biases that occur socially and within language, we qualify as linguists.  He also said that because we recognize that different dialects don’t mean uneducated or ignorant, we understand the basics of being a linguist.

I cringed when he said that.  I don’t consider myself a linguist…yet.  I’m a student of linguistics and what I learn opens my eyes daily.  I do see other peoples’ biases regarding language and the speakers of that language, especially in regards to non-standard dialects.  I do understand the grammatical basis of the language well and I do understand syntax.  However, there is so much more that I don’t know that I can’t wait to learn.

Linguistics is what I want to do.  I’ve already been to meetings to see if the Master’s in Applied Linguistics would interest me (and it does).  I’ve known that this is where I want to go for the last ten years.  The minute I took my first linguistics class (and enjoyed it) and was someone who excelled in grammar classes (you know, those cursed grammar trees!), I knew that was the line of work for me.

I’ve found my calling.  I’m passionate about it.  I feel good about it.  I enjoy it.  I enjoy the discussions, the debates, the dawning of an idea.  I enjoy the thought of research in this field, of study, of finding something new in old things.

What amuses me, more than anything, is that I could be a linguist.

I may have to play with that thought a little more.