Phase 1 of my ENGL 1100 course has been more fun than I imagined. I appreciate my professors’ approach to language and identity, catering to all my peers and making everyone feel included. Diving into our personal and ethical backgrounds was not only a way for us to freely express ourselves and get to know each other, but also an opportunity to learn more about language and identity as a whole. My individual experience with this course started off with my limited ability to write, and I planned to wholly dedicate myself to creative writing and expressing my thoughts as sincerely as I could. As the course started, the readings that were insightful and intriguing guided me to take a different approach to reading, understanding the various levels that come up in writing. The most helpful part of this course so far has been the specific and detailed feedback the professor gives us on every assignment, carefully guiding us to do better with each task. 

 

As for the LLN, it was the most amusing I’ve felt doing an assignment for this course and others. I was able to go at my own pace, with multiple different drafts, each guiding me to do better and learn more about my writing. I chose to do a poem, which was extremely manageable for me and a way for me to dive into philosophical themes that resided with my perspective on language. I was successfully able to explore ideas surrounding identity and the immigrant experience. The drafts and comprehensive feedback, alongside the help of my peers was able to help me achieve the goals I wanted with this assignment. For the future, I plan to continue working hard in this course, especially working on managing my time better and submitting assignments on time, as that had been something I struggled with this phase, but with the help of the professor and communicating my needs, I feel I was able to turn in work that felt achieving and stress-free. I hope to continue doing better in this course and get closer to achieving my goals as a writer.

 

Title: Language Is Art

Language is inherited. It is an accumulation of numerous historical events that fall into place for one to learn and speak that language. At its very core, it has a structure, a past, a story, and these archetypes that are forever evolving demonstrate a language’s upbringing around the world. Ever since the dawn of time, we have learned to converse, to speak, and to convey our thoughts, to evolve. Imagine a hypothetical world where you were the only human being to ever exist. Would you then speak? Would language be a necessary tool? Would a world with only you in it suffice without language? These hypotheticals tie us back to the history of humanity. We don’t speak because we can; we speak because we must. It is human nature to voice your thoughts and to express your freedom, because without it, would we really be free? While scientists estimate that there are over 7,000 languages spoken around the world, my estimate of that number falls closer to 8.142 billion. Culture, tradition, religion, and history all exist because of society. Society is the root of language, the root of conversation, and the root of its upbringing across every corner of the world. I did not fully understand this until June 10th, 2023, when I left Lahore, Pakistan, and realized how much of my identity depended on the language I spoke.

 

My journey with language has shaped me into who I am today. June 10th, 2023, marked the final moments I spent in Lahore, Pakistan. My home, where I had spent 16 years of my life, was left behind. Everything that defined my identity, my environment, my culture, my religion, and most importantly, my language, remained there. I grew up speaking Urdu everywhere. At home, at school, with friends, and with strangers, language had never been something I had to think about. It existed naturally. I never questioned my ability to communicate or whether my words would be understood. Immigration to the United States changed that instantly. The mere thought of moving to a country where I would not find those comforts made me feel physically sick. It was terrifying, but it was also exhilarating. It felt as though I had been reborn into a world where something as simple as speaking was no longer effortless. 

 

This realization became clear during one of my first independent interactions in English. I walked into a Dunkin’ alone, something I had done countless times in Pakistan. The aroma of coffee filled the air, and the buzzing hum of conversations bounced of the walls. I stood in line, rehearsing the words in my head. Medium Iced Coffee. Medium Iced Coffee. It was simple. Words I knew. Words I had heard. Yet when it was my turn in line and the cashier looked at me and asked, “What can I get you?”, my throat tightened. My heart began to race. I momentarily stood there in a trance before recollecting my thoughts. I became aware of my voice in a way I had never been before. I spoke carefully. “One medium iced coffee please.” My accent heavier than before. She paused. “Sorry?” she asked. That one word echoed in my head like my morning phone alarm. Jittered, I gathered myself again. I repeated, slower this time, forcing every syllable with intention. She nodded and began typing away at her register. Under my breath, I let out the biggest sigh. The interaction lasted no longer than ten seconds, but it stayed with me long after I left the store. For the first time in my life, language was not something I controlled effortlessly. It was something I had to consciously construct as if my identity depended on it, because it did. 

 

Moments like these reshaped my relationship with language. Conversations did not come easily at first. I stuttered, I hesitated, and I became too aware of how I sounded. I found myself translating thoughts from Urdu into English before speaking, carefully analyzing every word before allowing it to exist outside my mind. Speaking became intentional. Yet instead of hiding in comfort, I pushed forward. New York became the perfect environment for this transformation. It was filled with people from different cultures, backgrounds, and languages, each carrying their own identity within the way they spoke. I realized that no one spoke exactly the same. Everyone carried their history within their voice. My accent, which once felt like a barrier, became evidence of my story. Every conversation, every mistake, and every correction became part of my growth. Language was no longer hereditary; it was something I had to actively build. 

 

These experiences are ones I would never trade for anything else, because they revealed something I had never fully understood before. Language is not limited by grammar or societal rules. Everyone speaks their own language, shaped by their experiences, their struggles, and their identity. I no longer saw my accent as something flawed or broken. I saw it as something that belonged entirely to me. It was evidence of where I had been and where I was going. Language shapes our identities, but it is also something we shape in return. On a planet of over eight billion people, there are over eight billion ways to speak, to express, and to exist. Language is not just a tool for conversation, nor is it simply a label placed upon us by society. It is an expression of individuality. It is proof of growth. It is freedom. Language is art.

 

– Muhammad Hamza Shehzad