I am a child of the Central Valley in California. Farmers and ranchers and cowboys settled our fertile land so I grew up with a Western accent and mispronouncing words. I substituted "i's" for "e's" saying, "git" for "get" and "pin" for "pen."
I first became aware of my accent when I was doing summer theater in Idaho. I remember the moment clearly. I was referring to our local newspaper, The Hanford Sentinel, and I pronounced it the The Hanford "Sintnel." The director of the troupe had no clue what I was saying. I kept saying louder and louder, "Sintnel, Sintnel." Finally, I spelled it and she said, "Oh, Sen-ti-nel." And she taught me how to pronounce it correctly. I was astonished. Soon, she was correcting me when I said "becuz" or "alls." What a blessing it was to have adults willing to mentor me.
Though I corrected my vowel substitution problem during my summer theater days, there were still words that were to be stumbling blocks in my adulthood. I don't remember them all, but I know I said "chick" for "chic," which should have been "sheek." And this was after attending UCLA and graduating from Fresno State!
My most humiliating pronunciation mishap was when I lost a high-power job as a fill-in booth announcer for ABC and KABC in Los Angeles. (I was the first female booth announcer in Southern California.) My job consisted mainly of saying things like, "Stay tuned for Happy Days." Well, to a small town girl, it seemed like a high-power job.
One of my duties was to read the sign-off news for local affiliate KABC at the end of the broadcast day. I knew my pronunciations were weak, especially with foreign names, so I used to go over the news scripts with the director; but sometimes there wasn't time.
One night I received a script and had to go on-the-air live and read it cold. I read "the Symbionese Liberation Army in a communiqué today…." I pronounced "communiqué" as "com-you-neek." The moment I said it, I knew something was wrong. You know I am chagrined to this day and it's still difficult to admit. Later, I heard that some broadcast guys sitting around the bar in Simply Blues at Sunset and Vine heard it and were not too happy. Soon I had to hit the pavement in Hollywood looking for work.
How you pronounce words really can affect your career and how people perceive you.
So what did I do to improve? Well, I never did anything formally to correct my problem. After all, there are no pronunciation classes that I know of. I did pay attention, though. I also started using the dictionary more. Most importantly, I made it a point to ask people whose pronunciation I respected to correct me. Or if they happened to correct me on their own, I thanked them and asked them to continue doing so.
Most people are offended if you correct them, so I don't advise unsolicited correcting of adults. In fact, I especially don't recommend it to employers as it could be considered a "sensitivity" issue. However, you can always let others know if you want correction for yourself.
Despite my progress, I'm still insecure about my pronunciation. I have always correctly pronounced the word "niche" as "nich" (rhymes with Mitch). But, recently, I have had so many people pronounce the word as "neesh" that I inwardly assumed I was wrong. Recently, I said "neesh" to a business associate. The person responded, "'Neesh?!' What's 'neesh'? I never heard of that word."
When I got home I checked three dictionaries and they all list the pronunciation as "nich" (rhymes with Mitch). Just to be extra sure, I called my Latin-French expert, Helen Boyer. She confirmed that the French pronunciation is indeed "neesh" but that it sounds terribly affected to pronounce it that way in English. "It's like you're trying to be French or something," she said.
Next time, I'll "git" it "said right." Sheesh.
