“Go Carolina,” an essay by American humorist David Sedaris, is the first chapter of his autobiographical collection Me Talk Pretty One Day (published in 2000). This collection became a bestseller and is among the books that made Sedaris famous.

The essay recalls his experience with language and a speech disability as a child. Instead of cooperating with his school’s speech therapist, who pointed out the lisp, Sedaris preferred avoidance and began learning alternative words without “s” in them. Through the use of self-deprecating humor, the essay explores the themes of Communication and Self-Expression, Feeling Like an Outsider, and Concealing One’s True Identity to Conform.

This guide uses the CUNY Open Lab version of the story.

Content Warning: The essay and this guide reference anti-gay biases and ableist perspectives around speech disabilities.

Sedaris begins the essay with the allusion of a TV spy thriller: A calm agent comes in and, after a tense interrogation, takes away the bad guy. Sedaris believes that there’s “a lot to be said for doing things the hard way” (1). This trope introduces his childhood struggle with language, fitting in, and being considered an outsider. When an “agent” came to David’s fifth-grade classroom to take him away, he immediately began visualizing his most recent crimes, all innocuous. They walked together down the school hallway, and the agent asked David which college basketball team he preferred: Carolina or State. In an aside to the reader, Sedaris notes the ingrained rivalry between the two college teams and then explains that he dislikes sports and demurs whenever he is asked. His disinterest in traditional sports sets him apart and is part of his alienation.

To answer the agent’s question, Sedaris replied “State,” and he notes that he regretted that answer for many years thereafter. The agent questioned him further and then explained that he had a lisp, pointing out that he made a “th” sound instead of an “s” sound. Sedaris notes that he was aware of his sibilate “s,” or lisp. Immediately, he began to change his vocabulary, refusing to use any words containing the “s” sound when speaking to the agent, a speech pathologist. In an aside, Sedaris describes the agent, using Southern stereotypes and indicating his lack of respect for her. He adds that his “lazy” tongue wasn’t a problem at home, where all his family members seemed to have their own lazy characteristics.

Continuing the spy thriller diction, Sedaris shifts the focus to his true personality, which he hid beneath stereotypical “boy” actions and activities. He knew he was different. The things he enjoyed weren’t the things he did; he parroted what other boys did. He wanted to bake, read women’s magazines, decoupage, and do other conventionally “girl” things, but he hid his truth. He didn’t want to conform to traditional gender roles. The agent, trying to change the lisp, showed him where to put his tongue in his mouth, and David tried to acquiesce but was “betrayed by [his] tongue” (3). Instead of working to correct his speech, Sedaris adapted his vocabulary to eliminate any word with an “s” sound. His effort granted him praises for an outstanding lexicon, yet the real change in him and the other boys whom the agent interrogated, was that they were all quieter and hesitant to speak. Being forced to listen to himself on a tape recorder, David heard not only the lisp but his “excitable tone and high, girlish pitch” (4) and decided to hyperbolically take a vow of silence. Instead of trying to fit in, he decided to withdraw. His mother, however, wasn’t so concerned and reminded David to not be so morbid.

David’s teacher always announced in front of the entire class that it was time for David’s weekly speech therapy. Agent Samson’s tenure at David’s school ended around Christmastime and, as a farewell, they spent their final session just talking. She still tried to bait David into saying words with the “s” sound, but he remained consistent and concocted new ways to say even the most common words: “Christmas tree” became “pine tree,” and “fish” became “marine life.” Agent Samson opened up about her own life: her fiancé in Vietnam, her love of college football, and her desire to move to Florida. She revealed that she was just an inexperienced speech pathologist, not a cold-blooded agent out to persecute young criminals. She, too, had put up a facade and was just trying to fit the mold of what was expected of her in her profession. In what seemed like an honest, raw bonding over emotions, Agent Samson played on David’s sympathies and tricked him into saying, “I’m thorry.” She responded, “Ha ha. I got you” (5), laughing more than necessary, and then recommended another year of speech therapy for David.

Sedaris ends the essay by reflecting that no speech class ever made a difference in his life; he still has the lisp. The lisp is essential to his identity, a permanent part of him, and he isn’t the criminal in spy thrillers.