My classroom was in a dilapidated trailer that leaked when it rained. My brother's classroom was a repurposed janitor's closet. I learned long division in third grade, and acquired this stupid, obnoxious air of superiority upon learning that none of my new friends went through the entire fourth grade without knowing how.
And I was introduced to the phrase, "y'all." I had never heard it before, and all of a sudden, everyone was saying it. For a while, I resisted it. I decided it was "redneck talk," which, as it happened, was entirely compatible with my newly-acquired system of looking down on anyone with a Southern accent.
And then I lived there a little longer, and I got over it, thank God. I added "y'all" to my vocabulary. It's still a mainstay, and for good reasons: it's endearing, it's easy to say, and most importantly, it's a plural second-person pronoun for which the English language has no satisfactory substitute.
The only caveat is that in order to use it, you'll have to get over whatever weird bullshit about that word that you have going on, and so will the people you're talking to. For most these days, I don't think this is a problem. "Y'all" has spread. People in California and Chicago and Maryland say it. I would imagine that plenty of people in Kansas City use it.
But it certainly hasn't penetrated all socioeconomic circles, and sometimes you'll run into people who hold "y'all" in the same disdain I did when I was nine. If you're one of these people, you should find a way to deal. Until then, you are an asshole who doesn't know a terrific note of English when you see it.
