This reflection essay examines my growth in English 110, showing how studying language, literature, and personal writing helped me see how words shape identity, culture, and power.

——————————————-

English 110 showed me words aren’t just tools—they carry meaning, shape who we are, yet decide whose stories matter. Here, I didn’t just study essays; instead, I linked what I read to moments from my own life while questioning how speech patterns affect literature and real-world situations. Writing the Synthesis Essay, along with looking back at old drafts, made it clear: strict grammar rules often mix with power dynamics, personal expression, and feelings of fitting in. Early drafts of my work were mostly summaries, but revision pushed me to question why language rules existed and who benefited from them. These tasks revealed something key—I grew not mainly through facts or sources but by sharpening how I question ideas, dig into details, reflect on myself, and notice how tone and word choice shift depending on context.

Conducting research and integrating multiple sources into a coherent argument was something I improved on. My Synthesis Essay studied Samuel Johnson’s A Dictionary of the English Language (1755) and Noah Webster’s American Dictionary (1828), examining how they shaped the notion of “proper English” and connected this properness to intellect, behavior, and class standing. At first, I approached these dictionaries separately, summarizing their goals without connecting them. It wasn’t until I reorganized my outline that I noticed patterns linking linguistic rules to social authority. Instead of just listing facts, I mixed those references with scenes from Jane Austen’s precise writing and Charles Dickens’ regional dialect. This helped me connect historical context, cultural messages, and writer decisions into one line of thought. In doing so, I learned to synthesize evidence from multiple sources, a skill I had rarely practiced in earlier classes. Putting that paper together pushed me to spot trends across the timeline of literature. For instance, I saw that “authors sticking close to tradition tend to gain approval; those bending forms—playing with regional talk, street words, or odd grammar—often get pushed aside or called strange” (Buldan, Synthesis Essay). Connecting that idea to class structures helped me move beyond surface-level textual analysis to articulate why literature reflects power and cultural norms.

One thing I got better at was analyzing how writers use language to empower sidelined perspectives while challenging unfair systems. When writing my Synthesis Essay, I started seeing how Twain, Hurston, and Morrison manipulated grammar, dialect, and syntax to depict underrepresented voices. I initially hesitated to argue that nonstandard grammar was intentional rather than incorrect, but rereading the texts alongside scholarly commentary made that purpose clear. For example, I pointed out how Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn captures Southern dialects which “questioned the idea that proper grammar meant someone was smarter or better morally” (Buldan, Synthesis Essay). Similarly, I realized that “While some white reviewers shrugged off Hurston’s style as ‘wrong,’ she stuck to her roots on purpose […] Morrison built on that move, sliding between textbook grammar and street-level talk to dig into identity, control, and where people fit in society” (Buldan, Synthesis Essay). Through revision, I learned to shift from defending these stylistic choices to analyzing their effects, developing a method for examining how linguistic choices reflect social commentary.

My personal writing showed how thinking about real-life moments helps make sense of language and identity. When creating my Language & Literacy story, I revisited a memory of visiting Sudan—there, even though I’d heard Arabic at home for years, I struggled to communicate. I remembered losing my Avengers coloring book, realizing that “the right thoughts, [with] the wrong tools” left me unable to express frustration or confront my cousin (Buldan, Language and Literacy Narrative). My first draft focused mainly on the event itself, but during revision I realized the moment only mattered once I reflected on silence and exclusion rather than the object I lost. Turning that memory into literature helped me understand how possession of language affects belonging, connection, and self-expression. Looking back, I learned how to transform lived experience into analysis by tying personal moments to larger themes like heritage and communication.

I also learned to observe and analyze linguistic variation across contexts, which enhanced my understanding of social and cultural implications in language. For my Synthesis Essay, I examined how writers such as Junot Díaz and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie “blend dialects, code-switching, and multilingual influences to convey identity” (Buldan, Synthesis Essay). Comparing their work required me to reread passages closely and annotate shifts in voice, helping me move from observation to interpretation. When I compared their work to online communication—where casual and evolving English bends old rules—it clicked that context, audience, and purpose shape meaning. This realization changed how I evaluate and create literature, making my analysis more flexible and intentional.

Finally, I developed the skill of linking evidence from multiple texts to support nuanced claims in my own writing. My Synthesis Essay combined historical facts about rule-based dictionaries with scenes from Twain and Morrison and contemporary language examples to argue that prescriptivism shapes creativity and authority. Earlier drafts leaned too heavily on quotation, but revision taught me to prioritize explanation over accumulation. For instance, I noted, “Once people start treating grammar like proof of intelligence or decency, alternative ways of speaking get labeled as lesser” (Buldan, Synthesis Essay). Building these layered arguments showed me how to structure essays that move beyond summary and balance multiple perspectives, a skill that has carried into both academic and personal writing.

In a nutshell, English 110 showed me language isn’t just words—it pushes ideas, affects thinking, and shapes identity. Through research, analysis, personal reflection, and attention to linguistic diversity, I developed skills that extend beyond this course. I improved my ability to construct well-supported, multi-perspective arguments, read between lines, and express myself clearly without losing adaptability. This shift didn’t just change my writing or reading; it altered how I communicate and navigate relationships. Above all, I now see that language breathes—rules aren’t fixed; they bend, evolve, and open doors for expression.