Contrary to the popular image of isolated dialects as perfect, fossilized relics of the past, the reality is far more dynamic. When a small, isolated community is founded by people from different places, speaking slightly different varieties of a language, something remarkable happens. Their speech patterns begin to converge. Over generations, the linguistic quirks and variations they brought with them are sifted, simplified, and standardized, creating a new, more uniform local dialect. This process is called dialect leveling.

What is Dialect Leveling?

At its core, dialect leveling is the reduction of variation between different forms of a language. Think of it as a small-scale linguistic melting pot. When speakers of different but mutually intelligible dialects come into close, sustained contact, they subconsciously negotiate a common way of speaking. The most irregular, complex, or minority features tend to get filtered out, while the most common, simple, or communicatively efficient features are adopted by the wider group.

This happens in big cities and new towns all the time, a process linguists call koineization (from Koiné Greek, the “common” Greek that emerged after Alexander the Great’s conquests). However, the outcome is different in isolation. In a globalized city, leveling usually trends toward a broader, regional or national standard. But in a secluded valley, the process turns inward. The community develops its own unique, internally consistent standard, which becomes increasingly distinct from the dialects spoken outside the valley.

A Case Study in a Holler: Appalachian English

The mountains of Appalachia provide a perfect real-world laboratory for this phenomenon. Beginning in the 18th century, waves of settlers pushed into these remote hills and hollows. They were predominantly English, Scots-Irish, and German immigrants, and they didn’t all speak the same. A farmer from the Scottish borders would have spoken very differently from a laborer from southern England.

Once settled, geography did its work. The rugged terrain created pockets of extreme isolation. With travel being difficult, communities became tightly-knit and inward-looking. This was the crucible in which a new dialect would be forged. The children of the first settlers were the key agents of change. Exposed to a mishmash of their parents’ different accents and grammatical patterns, they didn’t just pick one; they created a new, leveled system. They unconsciously selected certain features and discarded others, building the foundation of what we now recognize as Appalachian English.

The Mechanics: How a Dialect is Leveled

The process isn’t random. It follows a predictable, multi-generational path:

1. Mixing: The first generation of settlers arrives, bringing a variety of linguistic features. For example, some might pronounce the “r” in words like car and farm (rhotic), while others might drop it (non-rhotic). Some might use the word poke for a bag, while others use sack.
2. Leveling: The children of these settlers are exposed to all this variation. They act as linguistic filters. They tend to iron out the inconsistencies, favoring features that are more common or regular. For instance, if the majority of speakers are rhotic, rhoticity will likely become the standard for the new dialect, and non-rhoticity will fade away.
3. Focussing: By the third generation and beyond, the new, leveled dialect has stabilized. It becomes the undisputed norm for the community and a powerful marker of local identity. It is now more uniform within the community than the speech of the original settlers was.

The Sound of a Leveled Dialect

So what does a “leveled” dialect actually sound like? Appalachian English is full of features that are the products of this simplification and regularization.

Phonology (Sounds)

One of the most well-known features is the pin-pen merger. In this dialect, the words pin and pen are pronounced identically, both sounding like “pin.” This is a classic example of leveling: two distinct vowel sounds from parent dialects have merged into one, simplifying the vowel system.

Grammar and Syntax

The grammar of Appalachian English shows even clearer signs of innovation born from leveling.

• A-prefixing: You might hear sentences like, “He was a-huntin’ and a-fishin’.” This a- prefix (e.g., a-huntin’) has roots in older forms of English where it was a preposition (“on hunting”). In Appalachian English, it became regularized as a grammatical marker for ongoing actions, a new and consistent rule created from old parts.
• Double Modals: Phrases like “I might can go to the store” or “You might oughta tell him” are common. In Standard English, you can only use one modal verb (like can, should, might) at a time. In Appalachia, a new system emerged where these can be combined to express finer shades of meaning, creating a more complex but internally consistent modal system.
• Second-Person Plural Pronouns: Standard English famously lacks a dedicated pronoun for “you” (plural). Dialects across the world have innovated to fill this gap. Appalachian English leveled toward solutions like y’all or, in some areas, yuns (from “you ones”). The community standardized on a form that provided useful clarity.

The Paradox of Isolation

Here we arrive at the central paradox: the very process that makes the speech inside the valley more uniform also makes it more distinct from the outside world. As Appalachian English was leveling its own unique features, the dialects in the flatlands and cities beyond the mountains were also changing, but in different directions—often toward a more widespread, mainstream standard.

The result is that the “sound of the valley” became a unique linguistic fingerprint. The isolation acted like an echo chamber, amplifying and solidifying a set of shared linguistic traits until they became emblematic of the place and its people.

Today, of course, that isolation is breaking down. Mass media, better roads, and economic migration are introducing new linguistic pressures. The sound of the valley is changing once again, this time leveling toward the national standard. But the story of how it was forged remains a powerful testament to the creative, self-organizing nature of human language, and a reminder that when left alone, a community will not just preserve its voice—it will create one.