Phase 2 Reflection
The second phase added a lot to my knowledge about academic, searching-based writing. Learning each small detail—from how to choose a topic, find resources, incorporate quotes, do the peer-review sessions, and finally create the visual argument—helped improve my skills and taught me new concepts that changed how I used to think about academic writing before.
First, writing my essay “Linguistic Racism Towards Black Students in the U.S. Schools” mainly discussed the serious issue of language discrimination and its influence on AAE students within the U.S. educational system. The debate between what is considered academically “Standard” and what carries identity, history, and sound—and who decides that—helped me learn more about English as a language and its delicates. This system erases students’ voices and affects their confidence, leading them to question their intelligence, which then impacts their learning process. All of that connects to what language is and how it is socially perceived.
In addition, one more thing I found beneficial was learning how to find sources for our writing and determine their authority and credibility, as well as learning the citation formula. Even though I had past experiences with it, going to the library and having a lesson that explained many crucial basics was so helpful and added to my overall knowledge. The process of writing and drafting also included doing peer-review sessions, which was an interesting experience, especially receiving feedback from peers and listening to their comments from the audience perspective.
Another important aspect of this phase was using AI tools to help us get introduced to what academic writing is supposed to look like. After I already had my essays finished, the goal was to see how something I wrote by myself could be improved or made to sound more polished and academic. What helped me was the grammar and punctuation corrections, because those small mistakes are easy to miss when I’mwriting. Seeing the corrections helped me learn the rule, and it was helpful that I could apply it right away in a real situation in my own essay. But some of the other suggestions didn’t make sense or changed the meaning, tone, or message I was trying to say, and the tools didn’t always understand the connection between my ideas. So even though using AI was helpful for grammar and for seeing how my writing could look more academic, I still feel like I have to be careful because it can easily take away my tone and personality. I can look at the suggestions, but it doesn’t mean I have to accept them.
Finally, another part of this phase was making a visual argument, which was completely different from writing an essay. Instead of long explanations, I had to think about colors, short sentences, and how everything would look together on one page. I was trying to choose lines that were simple but still said a lot, and I had to be careful about what information I put in because there wasn’t a lot of space. Making something visual also made me think about how people understand a message when they see it instead of reading a whole paragraph. And honestly, a visual argument can reach a wider audience because sometimes colors or images can make people feel something right away. Overall, it was a new experience for me, and it showed me that presenting an idea visually needs a different kind of attention and planning compared to writing.
Bayan Demis
Professor Franco Russell
English 110- Freshman Composition
November 23rd, 2025
Linguistic Racism Toward Black Students in U.S. Schools
Linguistic racism has long been a serious issue for Black students in U.S. schools. Their educational experiences are shaped by the dominance of Standard English in classrooms, while their own language varieties—such as African American English—are often judged or dismissed. This essay argues that the dominance of Standard English reflects deep social and racial hierarchies that marginalize Black students and reinforce unequal standards of intelligence, behavior, and belonging in educational spaces.
Linguistic racism refers to discrimination based on the way a person uses language or speaks with a particular accent, which is often directly or indirectly tied to their racial or ethnic identity. In sociolinguistic terms, linguistic racism happens when language is used to justify unequal treatment or to rank certain dialects as “correct” while labeling others as inferior. This kind of behavior leads people to be marginalized, judged, and to feel shame towards their own culture. This issue has been a noticeable phenomenon within schools in the United States, where the mandatory use of Standard English is considered the only proper way to speak English in the school system. The idea of adopting Standard English as the only dialect being taught in school can be an unfair criterion for students who speak other dialects, such as African American English (AAE).
The current educational system threatens Black English students’ identity under what is called ‘the correct way of using the English language’. “Black English is more than a dialect; it is a cultural cornerstone reflecting the resilience, creativity, and identity of the Black community” (University of British Columbia). Every spoken language carries a rich history of culture, traditions, and values that reflect the unique characteristics of specific societies around the world. AAE reflects one of these societies. However, while many agree that language connects to culture, the educational system doesn’t seem to agree. When AAE is consistently corrected and considered not credible in classrooms, it becomes an attempt to erase the culture it represents. “When students come to school using African American English, they know that many of their relatives, friends, and neighbors speak like them. … They may also know that many of their educators do not use this variety of English. The message that African American students may internalize is that educators expect them to learn a new way of communicating — and that it may be at odds with their home language and culture” (Charity Hudley et al.). One major challenge AAE students face is code-switching. They speak in a particular and natural way at home with their families and friends, but that natural way isn’t considered ‘correct’ in formal settings such as schools. Therefore, they tend to change their voice and the way they speak to avoid judgment and gain acceptance in society. The contradiction between what is spoken at home and what is expected at school leads to significant psychological effects, lowering confidence and damaging students’ self-image as they grow up.
Beyond the cultural and educational consequences, the requirement for Black students to code-switch or suppress their home dialects carries clear psychological costs. Code-switching refers to the way Black students often alter their natural speech to align with Standard English in academic settings. This adjustment may prevent judgment, but it also forces them to conceal aspects of who they are. As Johnson et al. observe, “Code-switching can create emotional dissonance when individuals feel forced to suppress aspects of their identity to meet expectations of the dominant culture” (p. 4). This dissonance fosters an inner conflict between self-expression and social acceptance, leaving students unsure which version of themselves truly belongs. Johnson et al. further explain that “the cognitive resources required to monitor one’s speech in real time can impair performance, reduce self-esteem, and perpetuate feelings of not belonging” (p. 5). Alim and Smitherman add that code-switching is not simply a communication choice but a response to linguistic power hierarchies that silence Black language in classrooms. Their work shows how the pressure to shift speech reinforces the same feelings of inferiority and self-monitoring noted by Johnson et al. The mental effort required to constantly adjust one’s voice consumes attention and heightens insecurity, gradually weakening confidence and participation. Over time, the pursuit of linguistic conformity replaces the freedom to speak authentically, leaving students intellectually present but emotionally detached from their own voices.
Although schools require BE students to learn Standard English, the system forgets that teachers and instructors should learn about different dialects as well. The responsibility to make the educational process successful must be fairly managed by people who understand other voices and the value those voices carry. According to Gardner-Neblett, “Sixty-seven percent of educators reported that they did not have training on AAE in their undergraduate studies, and that they did not know much about the linguistic characteristics of AAE” (Gardner-Neblett S18). The teacher base shouldn’t only follow one way of speaking and writing; instead, teachers should be trained to understand the grammar and features of AAE to provide students with a better school experience. As research shows, “When educators have training about linguistic diversity, they are more likely to have positive perceptions of children who speak different varieties of English, or those who are bilingual” (Lee & Oxelson). This means that the more teachers learn about linguistic variation, the less likely they are to misjudge students’ abilities based on their dialect. It also shows that proper training can shift classroom environments into more supportive, respectful, and culturally aware spaces for Black students who use AAE. Because many teachers lack training in AAE, these misunderstandings directly affect how Black students are graded and disciplined. When teachers view AAE grammar as “errors,” students are judged more harshly even when their ideas are strong. As Smitherman explains, “What is called a mistake in school is often simply the grammar of Black English” (12). These misunderstandings also show up in behavioral judgments. Teachers may interpret AAE tone or expressions as disrespectful, even when the student isn’t being rude. Alim and Smitherman describe this as “racialized listening,” where the Black language is heard as more aggressive than it is (38). These misinterpretations can lead to lower grades, unfair discipline, and fewer chances for Black students to enter advanced classes. The issue is not the students’ abilities—it is how their language is misread.
One of the clearest historical examples of linguistic racism in American schools is the Oakland Ebonics controversy of 1996. In this case, the Oakland Unified School District officially recognized African American English as a legitimate language system and suggested using it to help Black students learn Standard English more effectively. As linguist John Rickford explains, the resolution “was widely misunderstood as an attempt to replace Standard English rather than a bridge to it.” Instead of supporting this idea, the public reacted with anger and mockery, treating AAE as a joke rather than a real language. Many people, including politicians and media figures, claimed that teaching AAE would “dumb down” education, even though the district’s goal was to help students succeed. The backlash showed how deeply society resists acknowledging Black language as valid, and how quickly people dismiss anything associated with AAE. This controversy revealed that the problem was never about education quality—it was about who is allowed to have their language respected and who is not. The reaction to the Oakland resolution proved that even when schools try to support Black students linguistically, America’s language ideologies still hold on to racist beliefs.
Another important issue behind linguistic racism is the double standard around who is “allowed” to use African American English. AAE is constantly judged in academic settings when Black students speak it, yet many non-Black people freely use AAE-inspired slang or speech patterns on social media, in music, or in everyday conversations because it sounds “cool” or trendy. This creates an unfair situation where the same language is celebrated in public culture but criticized in the classroom. The PBS video What People Get Wrong About African American English explains that AAE has shaped mainstream American English for decades, yet society still misunderstands it and often disrespects it (“What People Get Wrong About African American English”). Alim calls this pattern a “paradox of linguistic appropriation,” where AAE features are embraced, but Black speakers remain marginalized (Alim 248). When students see their own dialect being mocked at school but copied outside of school, it sends a confusing message about the value of their voices. This selective acceptance reinforces the idea that AAE is only “acceptable” when someone non-Black uses it, while Black students are punished or corrected for the same features. In school settings, this double standard can make Black students feel even less comfortable speaking up, because they learn that their natural language is only admired when detached from their identity. As a result, students begin to hide their voices, not because they lack ability, but because the system treats their own way of speaking as a problem.
Linguistic racism in schools is not just about language rules—it’s about how Black students are treated and how their voices are judged before they even speak. Throughout the essay, it’s clear that AAE isn’t the problem; the problem is how the school system responds to it. When students are constantly corrected or told their way of speaking is “wrong,” they start to question themselves instead of questioning the system. Teachers who don’t understand AAE end up misreading students, and that affects everything from confidence to grades to how comfortable students feel in class. All of this shows that schools need to change the way they think about language. Respecting AAE doesn’t lower standards—it makes learning fairer. If educators take the time to understand different dialects and let students bring their real voicesinto the classroom, Black students won’t have to choose between sounding like themselves and being seen as “proper.” At the end of the day, no student should feel like their identity is something they need to fix just to succeed.
Work Cited
Alim, H. Samy. “What if We Occupied Language?” Journal of Language, Identity & Education, vol. 15, no. 5, 2016, pp. 247–252.
Alim, H. Samy, and Geneva Smitherman. Articulate While Black: Barack Obama, Language, and Race in the U.S. Oxford University Press, 2012.
Charity Hudley, Anne H., et al. “Lift Every Voice.” American Educator, 11 July 2023, https://www.aft.org/ae/winter2022-2023/charityhudley_mallinson_samuels_bigelow.
Johnson, Darin G., et al. “Social-Cognitive and Affective Antecedents of Code Switching and the Consequences of Linguistic Racism for Black People and People of Color.” Affective Science, vol. 3, no. 1, Mar. 2022, pp. 5–13. PubMed, https://doi.org/10.1007/s42761-021-00072-8.
Lee, Jin S., and Eva Oxelson. “‘It’s Not My Job’: K–12 Teacher Attitudes Toward Students’ Heritage Languages.” Bilingual Research Journal, vol. 30, no. 2, 2006, pp. 453–77. https://doi.org/10.1080/15235882.2006.10162871.
Messier, Josiane. “Ebonics, the Oakland Resolution, and Using Non-Standard Dialects in the Classroom.” University of Toronto, 2014. PDF.
Oakland Unified School District Board of Education. “Resolution on the Recognition of Ebonics Language System.” 18 Dec. 1996.
Otherwords. “What People Get Wrong About African-American English.” PBS, Season 1, Episode 4, https://www.pbs.org/video/what-people-get-wrong-about-african-american-english-vntq6v/. Accessed 16 Nov. 2025. UBC.
“Black English.” University of British Columbia School of Social Work, https://socialwork.ubc.ca/news/black-english/. Accessed 16 Nov. 2025.
Rickford, John R. “Ebonics: The Urban Education Debate.” Stanford University, 1998.
Smitherman, Geneva. Talkin and Testifyin: The Language of Black America. Wayne State University Press, 1977.
Zimmermann, Kathryn, et al. “An Examination of the Use and Outcomes of Readiness Assessments, Retention Policies, and Title 1 Funding for Kindergarten Children in the vhg uyy United States.” Early Childhood Research Quarterly, vol. 67, Apr. 2024, pp. 78–88. ScienceDirect, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ecresq.2023.12.003.
