WHAT YOU CAN EXPECT TO SEE ON THIS PAGE
On this page, you will find the blog posts I have written for the Writing & Speaking Studio's blog.
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BLOG POST 1
Acknowledging Our Privilege
April 12, 2022
April 12, 2022
How many languages can you speak? I’ve been asked this question a few times in my life, mostly in group settings. Over time, I noticed a pattern. While others were saying one or two at most, my answer has always been three: English, Indonesian, and Hindi. The response that I get is most commonly “that’s so cool”, which I never fully understood until I realized that, in the U.S., knowing more than one or two languages is not very common. Eventually, I began to agree. It is cool that I speak more than one language, that’s actually really impressive. In fact, it’s a privilege. I can speak to 813 million more people than someone who only speaks English.
813 million. I know what I’m saying is obvious but I have to say it… that’s a lot of people.
That being said, I’m not fluent in all three languages. Sure, I can write, speak, and understand all three languages, but not as well as a native speaker. At the end of the day, English is my first language. I’m not fluent in Indonesian or Hindi and when trying to speak or write in a language I’m not fluent in… I panic. It’s a struggle, especially when you’re standing in front of somebody trying to communicate to them and you know what you want to say but you just can’t seem to find the words. I didn’t recognize how much of a struggle it can be until my first session at the studio.
A student came in wanting to go over his Introduction to Film assignment about The Godfather. Seeing this on my schedule made me really excited because I’m a film major, this is my shtick. “I can write a paper about The Godfather in my sleep, this is going to be great”, that’s what I told myself. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t planning to write the paper for the student, but I imagined it would be a much smoother session because I’m knowledgeable about the topic at hand. Plus, since it was my first session ever, I was glad that the topic was one I understood. I went into the session almost giddy, waiting to read the paper and help this student. I just wanted to do what I had been training to do for weeks. Once I met the student, I very quickly realized the reason why he needed help: his first language was not English.
The session was a struggle for both of us. For me, trying to explain to a student why their sentence doesn’t make sense in a language that they are not fluent in was tough. But for him… I can’t even begin to imagine the position that he’s in. The more time that passed in the session, the worse I felt. I felt guilty. Guilty because I don’t have to think twice when I’m writing a paper for a class, because I understand when my professor gives me assignment guidelines, and because I have never had to write an essay in a language I am not fluent in. This student was from the other side of the world, he grew up in a country full of people that spoke the same language as him, he wrote papers in that same language, and he came to the U.S. hoping to pursue a career in something he’s passionate about but he has a crutch: he isn’t fluent in English.
Watching him struggle to find the words in his head even though he knew exactly what he wanted to say made me realize that having English as my first language is a privilege. Even if it’s the only language you know, English as a first language is a privilege. It’s easy to forget sometimes, I know I do. But imagine having all the knowledge you need and not being able to express them because no one around you would understand… it’s almost heartbreaking. Sure, I can speak to 813 million more people than someone who only speaks English, but non-native English speakers struggle to communicate with 1.35 billion people. I think we need to start considering the language privileges we have, not only in the studio but everywhere. We are constantly at an advantage, we can ask for directions, read signs, explain our issues, express our thoughts and emotions, understand our professors, and write. We can write without thinking twice about whether we make sense or not.
In the end, the session went great. After a while, we both learned how to communicate simpler so we understood one another. And as he left the session, I almost wanted to applaud him. I want to applaud all non-native English speakers who study in English-speaking countries because it is so, so much harder than we think it is. What I’m trying to say through this blog post is that we need to start acknowledging our language privilege because until we do that, we can only help others so much.
813 million. I know what I’m saying is obvious but I have to say it… that’s a lot of people.
That being said, I’m not fluent in all three languages. Sure, I can write, speak, and understand all three languages, but not as well as a native speaker. At the end of the day, English is my first language. I’m not fluent in Indonesian or Hindi and when trying to speak or write in a language I’m not fluent in… I panic. It’s a struggle, especially when you’re standing in front of somebody trying to communicate to them and you know what you want to say but you just can’t seem to find the words. I didn’t recognize how much of a struggle it can be until my first session at the studio.
A student came in wanting to go over his Introduction to Film assignment about The Godfather. Seeing this on my schedule made me really excited because I’m a film major, this is my shtick. “I can write a paper about The Godfather in my sleep, this is going to be great”, that’s what I told myself. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t planning to write the paper for the student, but I imagined it would be a much smoother session because I’m knowledgeable about the topic at hand. Plus, since it was my first session ever, I was glad that the topic was one I understood. I went into the session almost giddy, waiting to read the paper and help this student. I just wanted to do what I had been training to do for weeks. Once I met the student, I very quickly realized the reason why he needed help: his first language was not English.
The session was a struggle for both of us. For me, trying to explain to a student why their sentence doesn’t make sense in a language that they are not fluent in was tough. But for him… I can’t even begin to imagine the position that he’s in. The more time that passed in the session, the worse I felt. I felt guilty. Guilty because I don’t have to think twice when I’m writing a paper for a class, because I understand when my professor gives me assignment guidelines, and because I have never had to write an essay in a language I am not fluent in. This student was from the other side of the world, he grew up in a country full of people that spoke the same language as him, he wrote papers in that same language, and he came to the U.S. hoping to pursue a career in something he’s passionate about but he has a crutch: he isn’t fluent in English.
Watching him struggle to find the words in his head even though he knew exactly what he wanted to say made me realize that having English as my first language is a privilege. Even if it’s the only language you know, English as a first language is a privilege. It’s easy to forget sometimes, I know I do. But imagine having all the knowledge you need and not being able to express them because no one around you would understand… it’s almost heartbreaking. Sure, I can speak to 813 million more people than someone who only speaks English, but non-native English speakers struggle to communicate with 1.35 billion people. I think we need to start considering the language privileges we have, not only in the studio but everywhere. We are constantly at an advantage, we can ask for directions, read signs, explain our issues, express our thoughts and emotions, understand our professors, and write. We can write without thinking twice about whether we make sense or not.
In the end, the session went great. After a while, we both learned how to communicate simpler so we understood one another. And as he left the session, I almost wanted to applaud him. I want to applaud all non-native English speakers who study in English-speaking countries because it is so, so much harder than we think it is. What I’m trying to say through this blog post is that we need to start acknowledging our language privilege because until we do that, we can only help others so much.
BLOG POST 2
Language and Literacies: Bridging Academic Expectations
and Lived Experiences in Writing Centers
March 10, 2023
and Lived Experiences in Writing Centers
March 10, 2023
From my first day as a Peer Writing & Speaking Consultant, I have engaged in a range of compelling and diverse conversations at the studio. Among them, the topic of tutoring multilingual students has caught my particular interest. Despite being multilingual myself, English is my native language, which limits my ability to fully relate to non-native English-speaking students. Nevertheless, my diverse background as a person of color who was not born and raised in the United States provides me with a unique perspective that many monolingual people may lack. The readings for Language and Literacies articulated a lot of concepts that really resonated with me, particularly the notion that Writing Centers can do more to support multilingual students in developing their writing agency. Rather than being “passive recipients of knowledge," these students should be empowered to shape their own writing processes and have the opportunity to learn from their “mistakes” (Olson 4). This idea, expressed by Bobbi Olson in their article titled “Rethinking Our Work with Multilingual Writers: The Ethics and Responsibility of Language Teaching in the Writing Center," aligns with my passion for helping students from diverse linguistic backgrounds thrive in academic writing.
In the article, Olson recounts an encounter with a student named June, who came to the Writing Center seeking help after struggling to meet her professor’s writing standards. June recognized that, “The expectations placed upon her were unattainable given her status as a language learner, and even if she was willing to sacrifice herself in order to subscribe to others’ “standards,” she could not possibly succeed in the manner for which she hoped” (1). They explore the idea that Writing Centers can inadvertently perpetuate the idea of being the "gatekeeper of academic literacy," (Geller et al) as there is often a pressure to conform to the institutional standards and to assist non-native English writers to write more like native English speakers. “Also, we often feel a sense of immediacy from sitting next to writers who radiate a sense of distress (as June’s email did); in these moments, we want to allay that distress,” but our concern for helping multilingual writers succeed within the existing university system may cause us to overlook the needs of the writers themselves. The consequence of this is that, "In providing tips and strategies for helping multilingual writers meet instructors’ (monolingual) expectations, for instance, we have failed to help multilingual writers thrive as individuals and writers with agency” (Olson 2). This articulated for me that, as both tutors and people, it is our ethical responsibility to ensure that we are not discouraging multilingual writers from expressing themselves in their own unique voices and perspectives.
Similarly, in her article titled “Stocking the Bodega: Towards a New Writing Center Paradigm”, Nancy Effinger Wilson describes, “when I was an undergraduate, I was told that I did not belong in college—implicitly by my family and neighbors whose poverty and lack of education had convinced them that such “high falutin’” aspirations were “not for the likes of us,” but also explicitly by my professors who found my inability to produce “Standard” English and formal academic writing an indicator of my general ignorance… I just accepted that my “inferior” language needed replacing” (6). This feeling of “shame and anxiety” is shared by many multilingual writers, especially when their professors are enforcing their standards on students, despite their diverse backgrounds. This experience highlights one of many challenges that multilingual students face in academic writing, further expressing the need for Writing Centers to take a more empowering approach that recognizes and values the diverse linguistic backgrounds of their students.
Both Wilson and Olson discuss in their articles the significance of the role a Writing Center has when it comes to its ability to influence faculty to question their grading standards. Wilson expresses how a social work professor added a statement to her graduate social work syllabus that allowed students to express themselves in a way that allows "maximum self-expression” without requiring Edited Standard Written English (ESWE). The professor's students were visibly relieved by this change as they now felt more liberated in expressing their opinions and ideas without overthinking or worrying about conforming to a specific writing style. The experience reminded me of a recent conversation I had with a friend who was using ChatGPT to help her improve her writing. When I asked her why she felt the need to use AI to help her write an Art History paper, she expresses that, as a non-native English-speaking multilingual student, she often feels anxious about her writing style out of fear of “sounding stupid”. What stood out to me was that she didn’t ask the software to write the paper for her, she asked it to help her provide better clarity and “improve the overall flow and structure” of her work. I was quick to compare this interaction with a session between a peer consultant and a student. The only difference was, in this case, the AI software could not help her understand why it was making those changes and, in correcting her “mistakes," it also depleted her work of her unique voice. I asked her if she would feel more comfortable writing if her professor expressed that the students did not have to adhere to "standard" English and that their grades would be based solely on the content of their writing rather than the form. Without hesitation, she said yes.
It is very evident, in many ways, that writing centers need to adapt to the diverse needs of students and embrace the knowledge that they bring to the writing process. Nancy Effinger Wilson sees writing centers as an ideal place for "bottom-up cosmopolitanism," where people from different backgrounds can socialize, learn from each other, find a sense of community, and develop their writing style in a way that is unique and authentic to them. I think Bobbi Olson says it perfectly at the end of their article, “Examining how writing center practitioners can support student writers in their academic writing while at the same time paying attention to student writers’ lived experiences and the nuances of language teaching benefits all student writers. All student writers deserve to be heard on their own terms as they try to negotiate and understand the expectations placed on them from without. Although we cannot change the institution overnight, we can help writers exert agency. In doing so, we contribute to developing a world that is more responsive and reflective of its increasingly globalized population” (5).
In the article, Olson recounts an encounter with a student named June, who came to the Writing Center seeking help after struggling to meet her professor’s writing standards. June recognized that, “The expectations placed upon her were unattainable given her status as a language learner, and even if she was willing to sacrifice herself in order to subscribe to others’ “standards,” she could not possibly succeed in the manner for which she hoped” (1). They explore the idea that Writing Centers can inadvertently perpetuate the idea of being the "gatekeeper of academic literacy," (Geller et al) as there is often a pressure to conform to the institutional standards and to assist non-native English writers to write more like native English speakers. “Also, we often feel a sense of immediacy from sitting next to writers who radiate a sense of distress (as June’s email did); in these moments, we want to allay that distress,” but our concern for helping multilingual writers succeed within the existing university system may cause us to overlook the needs of the writers themselves. The consequence of this is that, "In providing tips and strategies for helping multilingual writers meet instructors’ (monolingual) expectations, for instance, we have failed to help multilingual writers thrive as individuals and writers with agency” (Olson 2). This articulated for me that, as both tutors and people, it is our ethical responsibility to ensure that we are not discouraging multilingual writers from expressing themselves in their own unique voices and perspectives.
Similarly, in her article titled “Stocking the Bodega: Towards a New Writing Center Paradigm”, Nancy Effinger Wilson describes, “when I was an undergraduate, I was told that I did not belong in college—implicitly by my family and neighbors whose poverty and lack of education had convinced them that such “high falutin’” aspirations were “not for the likes of us,” but also explicitly by my professors who found my inability to produce “Standard” English and formal academic writing an indicator of my general ignorance… I just accepted that my “inferior” language needed replacing” (6). This feeling of “shame and anxiety” is shared by many multilingual writers, especially when their professors are enforcing their standards on students, despite their diverse backgrounds. This experience highlights one of many challenges that multilingual students face in academic writing, further expressing the need for Writing Centers to take a more empowering approach that recognizes and values the diverse linguistic backgrounds of their students.
Both Wilson and Olson discuss in their articles the significance of the role a Writing Center has when it comes to its ability to influence faculty to question their grading standards. Wilson expresses how a social work professor added a statement to her graduate social work syllabus that allowed students to express themselves in a way that allows "maximum self-expression” without requiring Edited Standard Written English (ESWE). The professor's students were visibly relieved by this change as they now felt more liberated in expressing their opinions and ideas without overthinking or worrying about conforming to a specific writing style. The experience reminded me of a recent conversation I had with a friend who was using ChatGPT to help her improve her writing. When I asked her why she felt the need to use AI to help her write an Art History paper, she expresses that, as a non-native English-speaking multilingual student, she often feels anxious about her writing style out of fear of “sounding stupid”. What stood out to me was that she didn’t ask the software to write the paper for her, she asked it to help her provide better clarity and “improve the overall flow and structure” of her work. I was quick to compare this interaction with a session between a peer consultant and a student. The only difference was, in this case, the AI software could not help her understand why it was making those changes and, in correcting her “mistakes," it also depleted her work of her unique voice. I asked her if she would feel more comfortable writing if her professor expressed that the students did not have to adhere to "standard" English and that their grades would be based solely on the content of their writing rather than the form. Without hesitation, she said yes.
It is very evident, in many ways, that writing centers need to adapt to the diverse needs of students and embrace the knowledge that they bring to the writing process. Nancy Effinger Wilson sees writing centers as an ideal place for "bottom-up cosmopolitanism," where people from different backgrounds can socialize, learn from each other, find a sense of community, and develop their writing style in a way that is unique and authentic to them. I think Bobbi Olson says it perfectly at the end of their article, “Examining how writing center practitioners can support student writers in their academic writing while at the same time paying attention to student writers’ lived experiences and the nuances of language teaching benefits all student writers. All student writers deserve to be heard on their own terms as they try to negotiate and understand the expectations placed on them from without. Although we cannot change the institution overnight, we can help writers exert agency. In doing so, we contribute to developing a world that is more responsive and reflective of its increasingly globalized population” (5).