Self-Assessment Essay: Language, Identity, and Finding My Voice
This semester has been a transformative journey for me, especially in how I understand language, identity,
and self-expression. Through a combination of powerful readings, videos, and class discussions, I have
learned that language is not just a tool for communication, but also a way to express identity, resist
oppression, and reclaim power. In this self-assessment, I will reflect on the readings and assignments that
helped shape my growth as a writer and thinker, including works by Langston Hughes, June Jordan, Melissa
Lozada-Oliva, Jamila Lyiscott, Safwat Saleem, Amy Tan, and Vershawn Ashanti Young. Each of these voices
challenged me to see language in a new way and helped me better understand my own voice as a
multilingual student and writer.
We began the semester with Langston Hughes’s poem, “Theme for English B.” This poem helped me realize
how personal writing can be, and how identity plays a central role in every piece we write. Hughes reflects on
being the only Black student in a predominantly white classroom, and his poem shows how race, age, and
place influence his writing. His honesty inspired me to reflect on my own background and how it shapes the
way I use language. Hughes taught me that my experiences are valid and important in academic writing. I
don’t need to separate my personal identity from my academic voice; they can coexist and even strengthen
one another.
June Jordan’s essay, “Nobody Mean More to Me Than You and the Future Life of Willie Jordan,” deepened
my understanding of language as a political tool. She emphasizes the importance of Black English and how
using it can be an act of resistance. Her essay made me think about how standard English often excludes
people of color and marginalizes their ways of speaking. I began to see that insisting on one “proper” way of
speaking is a form of gatekeeping. Jordan’s work encouraged me to be more confident in expressing myself
in my own voice, even when it does not conform to standard academic English.
Melissa Lozada-Oliva’s poem “My Spanish” was a deeply emotional reminder of how language connects us
to our families, cultures, and histories. Her experience of losing fluency in Spanish and feeling disconnected
from her roots made me think about my own relationship with my native language. I realized that language
loss is not just about forgetting words; it is about losing a part of who you are. This reading helped me
appreciate my bilingualism more and motivated me to practice and preserve my home language.
Jamila Lyiscott’s spoken word video “3 Ways to Speak English” was one of the most powerful pieces we
encountered this semester. She demonstrates how she speaks three different “Englishes”: one at home, one
at school, and one with friends. Her performance made me realize that code-switching is not a sign of
weakness but a sign of linguistic strength. Lyiscott’s pride in her language varieties inspired me to embrace
my own linguistic diversity. I now understand that being able to move between different forms of English is a
skill and a form of cultural knowledge.
Amy Tan’s “Mother Tongue” also spoke to me deeply. Tan writes about how her mother’s limited English
shaped the way others perceived her, even though she was highly intelligent. I saw similarities between Tan’s
experience and my own, especially how people sometimes underestimate non-native English speakers. Tan
helped me realize that “broken” English is not broken at all-it’s a different kind of fluency, filled with meaning,
culture, and emotion. Her essay encouraged me to rethink what it means to be “fluent” and to appreciate the
beauty in my own linguistic background.
Safwat Saleem’s TED Talk, “Why I Keep Speaking Up Even When People Mock My Accent,” was incredibly
empowering. He describes how people often made fun of his accent, and how that made him feel ashamed
and silenced. But over time, he learned to see his accent as a part of his identity rather than something to
hide. This made me reflect on my own insecurities about speaking English. Saleem’s courage inspired me to
speak more confidently, even when I make mistakes, because my voice deserves to be heard.
Vershawn Ashanti Young’s essay, “Should Writers Use They Own Language?” challenged traditional
academic norms by arguing that students should be allowed to write in their natural dialects. He makes the
case that enforcing standard English in writing classrooms often limits students’ self-expression. Young’s
perspective made me question the rules of academic writing and consider how those rules sometimes silence
minority voices. His essay empowered me to experiment with my writing style and blend formal and informal
language in ways that felt authentic to me.
Finally, the Norton Field Guide’s section on “Writing a Literacy Narrative” gave me the tools to tell my own
story. It helped me structure my thoughts and understand the key components of a strong narrative:
reflection, context, and significance. This guidance was valuable when writing my own literacy narrative
earlier in the semester. It showed me how to turn personal experiences into meaningful essays that others
can relate to.
In conclusion, this semester has taught me that language is more than just grammar and vocabulary. It is a
reflection of who we are, where we come from, and how we see the world. The readings, videos, and class
discussions helped me see the value in my own voice and gave me the confidence to use it. I learned that my
identity is not something to hide in academic spaces, but something to celebrate. As I move forward, I will
continue to challenge the idea of “standard” English and embrace the rich, diverse ways we all use language
to express ourselves.

Title: Language, Race, and Hiring Practices: Unveiling Bias in the Modern Job Market

Introduction In today’s increasingly globalized world, diversity is celebrated, at least in theory. Yet beneath corporate slogans about “equal opportunity” lurks a persistent issue: the intersection of language, race, and hiring practices. Although federal laws prohibit discrimination, research and personal accounts reveal that subtle biases continue to shape who gets hired and who doesn’t. In this essay, aimed at students preparing to enter the workforce, we will explore how language proficiency and racial identity impact hiring decisions, why this matters, and what we can do about it.

The Landscape of Language and Hiring First, let’s set the stage by examining why language matters in hiring. Communication skills are often cited as essential for most jobs, which makes sense. However, the definition of “good communication” is often culturally loaded. According to a study by the University of Michigan, job candidates with non-native accents are perceived as less competent, even when their qualifications are identical to native speakers. This perception, often subconscious, creates an invisible barrier for many immigrants and people of color.

Moreover, “standard” English itself is a moving target. Linguist Rosina Lippi-Green notes that American Standard English is “a myth,” propagated largely through media and education systems. In hiring, candidates who deviate from this standard—whether by having an accent, using regional dialects, or exhibiting unfamiliar speech patterns—are often unfairly judged. Here, language becomes a proxy for race, nationality, and even socioeconomic status.

The Racial Dynamics at Play Adding another layer, race plays a significant role. Studies show that resumes with “ethnic-sounding” names like Jamal or Lakisha receive fewer callbacks than those with “white-sounding” names like Emily or Greg, even when experiences are identical. According to a landmark 2003 study by economists Marianne Bertrand and Sendhil Mullainathan, resumes with traditionally Black names had a 50% lower callback rate.

While overt racism in hiring has decreased over time, implicit bias remains rampant. Language bias and racial bias often work hand in hand: if a hiring manager hears an accent associated with a minority group, they may—consciously or unconsciously—assume incompetence or poor cultural fit. For immigrants or second-generation Americans, this creates a double bind: neither full acceptance into “mainstream” culture nor full acknowledgment of their unique backgrounds.

Case Study: The Experience of Latino and Asian Job Seekers To get more specific, consider the experiences of Latino and Asian job seekers in the United States. For many Latinos, speaking English with an accent can limit access to higher-paying jobs, regardless of education level. Employers may assume, incorrectly, that an accent indicates poor language proficiency overall.

Similarly, Asian Americans, often stereotyped as “model minorities,” face their own challenges. Non-native English speakers from countries like China, India, or Vietnam may be overlooked for leadership positions based on assumptions that they lack “executive presence” — a vague term often linked to fluency in “unaccented” English and culturally white communication norms.

Counterargument: The Employer’s Perspective Now, let’s pause to consider the other side. From an employer’s point of view, communication is critical. Miscommunication can lead to costly mistakes, safety issues, and poor customer relations. Employers may argue that seeking employees who match a certain communication style is not about discrimination but about operational efficiency.

While this argument holds some merit, it overlooks the fact that communication skills can be taught and that diverse communication styles enrich a workplace. It also fails to acknowledge that “standard” communication norms are themselves socially constructed and historically rooted in white, upper-class culture.

The Role of Technology and AI in Hiring As if human biases weren’t enough, technology has introduced new complications. Many companies now use AI-powered tools to screen candidates. Unfortunately, these systems often replicate and even amplify existing biases. If past hiring patterns favored certain speech styles or names, machine learning algorithms “learn” to favor them too.

In 2018, Amazon scrapped an AI recruiting tool after discovering it was biased against female candidates. Similar biases related to language and race have been documented in other AI systems. Technology, far from being neutral, reflects the prejudices of its creators and the data it is fed.

Why This Matters for Students So why should students care? First, understanding these biases can help you better navigate the job market. If you face these challenges, knowing they exist can empower you to seek supportive employers and advocate for yourself.

Second, as future leaders, you have the opportunity to reshape hiring practices. Today’s students are tomorrow’s managers, HR directors, and CEOs. By recognizing and addressing language and race biases now, you can help build more inclusive workplaces.

Strategies for Change What can be done? Here are some strategies, both individual and systemic:

1. Self-awareness and Training: Companies should invest in bias training that specifically addresses language and racial biases. Understanding that bias is often unconscious is the first step toward combating it.
2. Structured Interviews: Research shows that structured interviews, where each candidate is asked the same set of questions, reduce bias. Evaluating candidates based on clear, job-relevant criteria rather than “gut feelings” helps level the playing field.
3. Accent Training vs. Bias Training: Instead of pushing non-native speakers to lose their accents—which can feel like erasing their identities—employers should focus on training all employees to understand different accents and communication styles.
4. Diverse Hiring Panels: Having a diverse group of interviewers reduces the chance that one person’s biases will dominate the decision.
5. Technology Audits: Companies using AI hiring tools should regularly audit them for bias and adjust algorithms as needed.
6. Legal and Policy Measures: Stronger enforcement of anti-discrimination laws and new policies addressing linguistic discrimination can also drive systemic change.

Conclusion In sum, language and race significantly influence hiring practices, often in ways that candidates and employers alike may not fully recognize. For students, understanding these dynamics is critical—not only for your own career success but also for the broader goal of building a more equitable society. As you step into the workforce, remember: diversity is not just about ticking boxes; it is about valuing the rich variety of ways that people can contribute, communicate, and lead.

By confronting biases head-on, demanding fairer practices, and embracing inclusive definitions of “good communication,” we can ensure that tomorrow’s workplaces are truly open to all. The responsibility, and the opportunity, lies with you.

Research Topic and Questions

My research topic focuses on language discrimination, code-switching, and linguistic identity—specifically, how language biases affect individuals in educational and professional settings. My main research questions are: How does language discrimination impact students and professionals who speak non-standard dialects or multiple languages? What are the psychological and social effects of code-switching? How can schools and workplaces create more inclusive linguistic environments?

I am drawn to this topic because I have personally experienced the need to adjust my language depending on where I am, and I have seen how others struggle with the same issue. Many people, especially immigrants and minority groups, are unfairly judged based on how they speak. This issue is important because it connects to identity, self-confidence, and equal opportunities in education and careers. I want to explore solutions that encourage linguistic diversity rather than suppress it.

5-6 Sources for Research

1. “Linguistic Discrimination Still Lingers in Many Classrooms” – National Education Association (nea.org)
   • Discusses how language discrimination affects students and proposes solutions for inclusive education.
2. “The Costs of Code-Switching” – Harvard Business Review (hbr.org)
   • Explores the psychological and professional challenges of code-switching in workplaces.
3. “Language and Discrimination: A Study of Ethnolinguistic Prejudice” – Phillip L. Hammack, Journal of Language and Social Psychology
   • Examines how language-based prejudice shapes social interactions and reinforces discrimination.
4. “Code-Switching and Identity: Understanding the Social Implications of Language Use” – Bilingual Research Journal
   • Analyzes how multilingual individuals navigate identity through code-switching.
5. “The Stigma of Accents: How Linguistic Bias Affects Hiring Decisions” – Journal of Applied Psychology
   • Studies the impact of accents and dialects on job opportunities and professional advancement.
6. U.S. Census Bureau Data on Language Use in the United States (census.gov)
   • Provides statistical insights into linguistic diversity and the prevalence of non-English languages spoken in the U.S.

These sources will help me build a well-rounded argument by incorporating real-world data, expert research, and personal narratives about language discrimination and identity.

Finding My Voice: A Journey Through Language and Identity

Good [morning/afternoon/evening] everyone,

Language has always been an important part of my identity. It shapes how I see the world—and how the world sees me. From a young age, I recognized the power of words—how they could connect or isolate, empower or restrict. Growing up, I constantly switched between different ways of speaking: the formal English expected in school, the relaxed, rhythmic speech I used with friends and cousins, and the Bengali I spoke at home. I thought I had mastered this ability to adapt, but one moment in my life made me truly question my relationship with language, literacy, and identity.

It happened in seventh grade, in my English class. Our teacher assigned us a spoken-word poetry performance about an aspect of our identity. At first, I was excited. But soon, doubt crept in.

What part of my identity should I focus on? More importantly—how should I speak? Should I use the polished, academic English I had been taught? Or should I let in the slang and dialect I used with my friends and family?

At home, my family mostly spoke Bengali, sprinkled with bits of English and phrases borrowed from other languages. It was natural, comfortable. But in school, it felt out of place. I had learned to filter my speech, carefully selecting words to meet academic expectations. I never questioned this ability to switch between worlds—until I found myself standing in front of my class, holding my poem in my hands. At that moment, I felt exposed.

When the day of the performance arrived, my heart pounded as I stepped onto the small stage. My poem was titled “Voices in My Head”, and it explored the constant shifts in the way I spoke. I started with formal English—the kind I had perfected through years of essays and presentations. But as the poem progressed, I let my natural voice take over. My home dialect crept in. I used the slang I spoke with my friends, the words that felt like home.

I saw curiosity in my classmates’ faces. And for a second, I panicked. Were they judging me? Did they think I sounded less intelligent?

Then, I reached the final lines of my poem:

“I am fluent in more than just words—
I am fluent in worlds.”

Silence filled the room. My heart raced. And then—applause.

My teacher smiled. Some classmates clapped louder than before. And in that moment, I realized that my fear had been misplaced. No one had dismissed my words. In fact, my authenticity had resonated with them.

That moment changed the way I saw language and literacy. I realized that language is not just about correctness—it’s about connection. It’s about expression. I had spent years separating different parts of my linguistic identity, believing that some ways of speaking were only appropriate in certain spaces. But the truth is, they are all a part of me.

My home dialect is just as valid as the English I use in essays. The slang I use with my friends carries just as much meaning as the structured sentences of my schoolwork.

After that day, I embraced the idea that language is fluid, adaptable, and deeply personal. I no longer felt the need to suppress parts of my identity to fit a specific Mold. Instead, I saw the beauty in my ability to shift between different forms of communication—because each one reflects a different piece of who I am.

Looking back, I realize that my journey with language and literacy has been a journey of self-discovery. That seventh-grade performance taught me that language is more than just rules and structure. It is culture. It is history. It is identity.

And most importantly, being articulate doesn’t mean conforming to a single standard. It means having the ability to communicate in a way that is true to who you are.

Because in finding my voice, I found the power of my own story.

Thank you.

Language has always been a important part of my identity, shaping how I see the world and how the world sees me. From a young age, I recognized the power of words—how they could connect or isolate, empower or restrict. Growing up, I navigated different verbal landscapes, switching between the formal English expected in school and the more relaxed, rhythmic speech of cousins and friends. It wasn’t until one particular moment in my life that I truly understood the depth of this experience—an experience that forced me to confront my relationship with language, literacy, and identity.

One defining moment occurred in my middle school English class during my seventh-grade year. Our teacher assigned us to write and perform a spoken-word poem about an aspect of our identity. I was excited at first, but then I felt a creeping sense of doubt. What part of my identity should I explore? More importantly, how should I speak? Should I use the well-educated English I had been taught to write in school, or should I sneak in the slang and dialect I used with my family, friends and cousins?

At home my family spoke mostly bengali, and little bits of english and phrases borrowed from other languages. This way of speaking was natural and vibrant, but in school, it felt out of place. I had learned to filter my speech, carefully choosing words to fit the academic expectations placed upon me. I had grown comfortable in this ability to switch between linguistic identities, but now, standing in front of my class with my poem in hand, I felt exposed.

When the day of the performance arrived, my heart pounded as I stepped onto the small stage at the front of the classroom. My poem was titled “Voices in My Head”, and it explored the constant switching of language I did in different places. I started with formal English, the kind I had mastered through years of essays and presentations in school. But as the poem progressed, I let myself slip into the natural tone of my home dialect. I infused it with the slang I used with my friends, the words that felt like home. I could see the curiosity in my classmates’ faces, and I worried about what they were thinking. Would they see me as less intelligent? Would they judge me for not sticking to the so-called “proper” way of speaking?

Then I reached the final lines of my poem: “I am fluent in more than just words / I am fluent in worlds.” As I finished, a silence filled the room, then a sudden burst of applause. The teachers smiled and nodded, and a few of my classmates even clapped louder than before. I realized that my fear had been misplaced. No one had dismissed my words; in fact, my authenticity had resonated with them.

That moment changed the way I viewed language and literacy. I realized that language is not just about correctness—it is about connection. It is about expression. I had spent years trying to separate the different parts of my linguistic identity, believing that certain ways of speaking were only appropriate in certain places. But the truth was that all of these forms of language were a part of me. My home dialect was just as valid as the English I wrote in essays; the slang I used with friends and cousins carried just as much meaning as the structured sentences of my schoolwork.

After that day, I embraced the idea that language is fluid, adaptable, and deeply personal. I no longer felt the need to suppress parts of my linguistic identity to fit a specific mold. Instead, I saw the beauty in the way I could shift between different forms of communication, each one reflecting a different piece of who I was.

Looking back, I realize that my relationship with language and literacy has been a journey of self-discovery. That moment in my English class taught me that language is more than just rules and structure; it is a reflection of culture, history, and personal identity. I now understand that being articulate doesn’t mean conforming to a single standard—it means having the ability to communicate in a way that is true to who you are. And in finding my voice, I found the power of my own story.