Honestly, if you've ever felt like you had to "clean up" the way you talk before an interview or a first date, Denice Frohman’s poem Accents is going to hit you like a ton of bricks. It’s not just a clever bit of wordplay. It is a loud, rhythmic defense of a Puerto Rican mother’s voice in a world that often tries to hush it.
The poem has become a staple in spoken word circles, and for good reason. It’s vibrant. It’s defiant. Most importantly, it treats an accent not as a "language barrier" but as a living, breathing map of where a person has been.
The Evidence for Accents: Breaking Down the Imagery
When people ask what the "evidence" for accents is in this poem, they’re usually looking for how Frohman proves that an accent is a source of power rather than a mistake. She doesn't just tell us; she shows us through some pretty intense metaphors.
The Tongue as a Weapon
Right out of the gate, Frohman describes her mother’s accent like a "shotgun" held with "two good hands." That’s a massive shift in perspective. Usually, people think of a thick accent as a vulnerability. Frohman flips that. Her mother’s tongue is "all brass knuckle," slipping between her lips. It suggests that her voice is something she uses to navigate a world that isn't always kind to her.
A Stubborn Compass
One of the most moving pieces of evidence in the poem is the "stubborn compass" metaphor. Frohman writes that even when her mother’s lips can’t quite wrap themselves around the flat sounds of English, her accent is always "pointing her towards home."
👉 See also: Christopher McDonald in Lemonade Mouth: Why This Villain Still Works
It’s a reminder that every "remixed" word—like "eh-strawbeddy" for strawberry or "eh-cookie" for cookie—isn't a failure to learn. It’s a refusal to let go of a heritage. The accent is the evidence of her roots in el campo, the countryside of Puerto Rico.
Why English is "Too Neat"
Frohman makes this really sharp observation that English is "too neat" for her mother’s kind of wonderful. Think about that for a second. Standard English is often taught as this rigid, polished thing. But her mother’s speech is a "sancocho"—a thick, rich stew—of Spanish and English pushing against each other.
She uses musicality to prove her point. Her mother’s mouth is full of:
- Conga and Cuatro: Traditional instruments that give the speech a percussive feel.
- Clave and Salsa: Rhythms that refuse to "sit still."
- Piano Keys: Hidden between her teeth.
To Frohman, the "evidence" of an accent is the music that survives the translation. When her mom says "ah ha" instead of "yes," the poet says the sky in her mouth becomes a Hector Lavoe song. If you know salsa, you know Lavoe is the king. It’s about soul, not syntax.
✨ Don't miss: Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne: Why His Performance Still Holds Up in 2026
Identity and the "In-Between"
You’ve gotta understand where Denice Frohman is coming from to really get the poem. She identifies as "NuyoJewricanqueer"—a mix of New York, Jewish, Puerto Rican, and Queer identities. She knows what it’s like to live in the "in-between."
In Accents, she’s specifically writing her mother out of a "shame that didn't belong to her." We see this a lot in immigrant families. The kids might speak "perfect" English, but they watch their parents get treated like they’re less intelligent because of their pronunciation.
Frohman’s poem is basically a legal brief for why that’s total nonsense. She argues that her mother’s voice has "waited too many years to arrive" to be told it needs "housekeeping."
The Cultural Weight of a Single Word
There’s a part of the poem where she talks about how specific words like "wepa" or "dale" can turn a group of strangers into a family reunion. This is the social evidence of accents. It’s a secret handshake. It’s the way people find their tribe in a crowded room.
🔗 Read more: Chris Robinson and The Bold and the Beautiful: What Really Happened to Jack Hamilton
She mentions that "kitchen," "key chain," and "chicken" all sound the same when her mom says them. In a classroom, a teacher might mark that wrong. In the poem, Frohman marks it as a remix. It’s a creative act.
Actionable Insights: How to Read (and Hear) Accents Differently
If you're studying this poem or just trying to appreciate the message, here are a few ways to apply Frohman's logic to the real world:
- Listen for the "Weather": Frohman once said she pays attention to the "temperature and pitch" of language. Instead of just listening to what someone says, listen to the rhythm. Is it percussive? Is it melodic?
- Challenge the Hierarchy: We often put "Standard English" at the top of the pyramid. Try to see accents as an addition rather than a subtraction. It’s English plus a history.
- Read it Aloud: You can’t fully get the "evidence" for accents by reading it silently on a screen. You need to hear the "rapid fire" of the Spanish and English clashing. Watch the TED-Ed animation or her performance at the Nuyorican Poets Café to feel the energy.
- Acknowledge the Labor: For many, keeping an accent is a form of resistance. It takes work to hold onto your home language when the world is asking you to blend in.
Ultimately, Denice Frohman’s Accents is a masterclass in reclaiming a narrative. It tells us that our voices don't need "housekeeping." They just need to be heard for the music they actually are.
To truly grasp the impact of this work, the best next step is to watch Frohman's live performance of the poem, as her delivery provides the tonal "evidence" that the written word can only hint at. Note the way she uses her body and breath to mimic the "shotgun" and "brass knuckle" imagery she describes.