Sociolinguistics

Introduction/Background

Language plays an important role in the workplace because the way someone talks can indicate professionalism, familiarity, and authority with others. In various professional settings, it is expected to use formal language, especially when interacting with higher level staff and supervisors. People often use more informal language, slang, or jokes when talking with co-workers or peers. Workers naturally change the way they speak, based on who they are talking to and the setting they are in, known as code switching, where speakers shift between distinct language styles to match different social situations. Past research has displayed that language in workplaces is often formed by hierarchy and power relationships. Although, the idea on how everyday situations within the workplace influencing these language choices often gets overlooked. Factors including who is present, familiarity between co-workers, or whether conversations take place in or out of work may also play a crucial role. Our findings suggest that language use is not shaped only by job position but everyday context and social situations often influencing how people choose to speak. 

Methods

For our project, we analyzed the language patterns of staff within our four different work spaces at UCLA: The Hammer Museum, Gogobop, UCLA Cleanroom Labs, and Airtasker Corporate. Each environment focuses on a different type of service/experience and ranges from very social and informal/semiformal (The Hammer Museum and Gogobop) to more formal or business-like (Cleanroom Labs and Airtasker Corporate) which provided us with a larger variety of data and settings to analyze. The methods we used included observational fieldwork, interviews, and collecting data samples from Slack, messages, and email. We went about our fieldwork by entering a normal work day or shift, and taking notes on the interactions between individuals inside the workplace. We would note their position in the hierarchy (student worker, supervisor, boss, shift lead, etc.), the position of who they talked to/interacted with, the topics of discussion, and their language use. We chose to focus on language patterns such as slang usage, tone of voice, formality and diction of speech, pitch shifting, pauses, markers of authority, and body language. The four of us also conducted interviews with at least 2-3 people from our workplace each, and a predetermined set of questions covering topics such as personal life, their jobs, and code-switching. Samples were taken of staff exchanges both during and outside of work hours. This data collection was conducted over the course of a month.

Results/Analysis

We found that formal and informal language was used to some extent by all levels of job hierarchy in each of the work environments. A majority of the informal speech, tone, and slang usage we heard came from student workers or lower level staff positions. That is not to say that the higher ups did not engage in informal or casual language patterns. In their case, the extent of informal language usage varied between the four work environments, from extensive use to rarely heard, but was still present within each space. Formal language patterns also seemed to be connected with the presence of higher up staff. We saw a trend in which it occurred most often between higher up staff or when lower level or student workers interacted with higher ups. Rarely did we observe super formal language use between student workers of the same level. This seemed to correlate with how close coworkers were to one another and if their work environment promotes them working together or separately during work shifts. We noted that environments that had more collaborative coworker interactions had heavier slang and casual language use. It is likely that collaborative work promotes more familiarity, and therefore, more informal conversation patterns.

In our interviews, we noted a variation of reactions to the act or experience of being asked questions. A pattern that we observed was that when interviewing our coworkers, they tended to strictly stick to the questions being asked and looked towards us as interviewers often to almost check in if they answered correctly or gave the response we wanted. This contrasted to what we saw during interviews with our higher ups in which a good amount of them seemed to show comfort or confidence in directing or almost taking charge of the interview or conversation. We think maybe it’s linked to their job hierarchy position and either how they believe they are expected to act, or the types of interactions they are used to in the workplace created by holding this job title. In our analysis of workplace online communication, we noticed that staff tend to vary in their language use and formality from inside to outside workplace settings, regardless of if the topic being discussed is personal or work related. Many of our message exchanges with staff during work hours are seen to lean towards being more formally worded and tend to be mostly structured around work but may be about other topics. However, outside of work hours, exchanges with the same person or people can be seen to take on much more casual and informal patterns and have much more variety in terms of slang use, structure, and emotion. An important thing to note is that we observed that a more informal or social work place, such as the Hammer Museum, experienced much less formality variation inside vs outside work. We found that conversation between coworkers in this environment stayed mostly informal compared to labs or airtasker, however, it still experienced the difference in formality from inside to outside work hours to some extent.

Discussion/Conclusions

Our findings suggest that language use in UCLA student workplaces is highly flexible and shaped by multiple social factors rather than hierarchy alone. While workers often used more formal language when interacting with supervisors or managers, situational context such as the pace of work, familiarity with coworkers, and the presence of customers also played an important role in shaping how people spoke. As workers switched between formal and informal speech within seconds, showing how natural and automatic code switching can be in everyday interactions. These patterns highlight that workplace communication reflects speakers continually adjusting their speech to fit social roles, expectations, and relationships rather than a simple division between professional and casual language. Yet this study has several limitations, as our observations were limited to a small number of workplaces and relied partly on self-reported experiences. Future research examining a wider range of workplace environments could further explore how different industries, workplace cultures, and forms of communication influence style and code switching in professional communication. 

References

Bucholtz, M. (2012). Word Up: Social Meanings of Slang in California Youth Culture. Escholarship.org . https://escholarship.org/uc/item/0c7141bs .

Hazen, K. (2002). Identity and Language Variation in a Rural Community. Language, 78(2), 240–257. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3086557 .

Khairunissa, M., & Budiwati, T. R. (2025). The use of Gen Z slang by digital influencer “Awkarin” on her social media: A socio-semantic study. Language Literacy: Journal of Linguistics, Literature, and Language Teaching, 9(2), 1092–1098. https://doi.org/10.30743/ll.v9i2.12177 .

Masuda, K. (2016). Style-shifting in student–professor conversations. Journal of Pragmatics, 101 , 101–117. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2016.05.012 .

Wei, L. (2005). “How can you tell?” Journal of Pragmatics , 37 (3), 375–389. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2004.10.008 . 

Introduction and Background

We’ve all been there, where we’re sitting in a lecture hall on the first day of the quarter, waiting for the professor to speak. While it might feel like a routine formality, the way an instructor introduces themselves is a pivotal linguistic event. Research shows that students’ initial perceptions of a course and its learning environment are greatly influenced by the instructor introductions given on the first day of class (Tanner, 2013). These introductions serve more purposes in higher education settings than just giving out information; they set expectations, represent authority or approachability, and indicate the classroom’s social and academic norms (Cazden, 2001). Our project focuses on these introductions as an important moment of interaction between instructors and students. Specifically, we explore how instructors use language and communication strategies to establish the kind of classroom atmosphere they hope to create from the very beginning. We analyze syntactic, pragmatic, and semantic elements within these introductions. Pragmatic features include tone, friendliness, stance, and gestures, while syntactic and semantic features focus on how instructors structure and phrase their sentences. Language is rarely neutral, especially in education. By observing some hidden strategies, we want to understand how a room full of strangers is transformed into a cohesive academic environment before the first syllabus is even handed out. The purpose of this study is to determine how obvious and covert language strategies used within instructor introductions reflect the educational environment the instructor intends to foster, and we hypothesize that linguistic and pragmatic behaviors displayed in instructor introductions will specifically reflect the levels of expectations, comfort, and engagement that the instructor attempts to promote within the classroom. 

Cross Reference: TED Talk explaining the major impact, both positive and negative, introductions, shaped by our tone and words, can have on our biases and perceptions of people: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHGoIsrQZFs

Methods

For our project, we conducted both naturalistic observations and interviews to investigate our research question: What do instructor introductions in higher education classrooms reveal about classroom environments? We started by asking for permission and once granted, analyzing the recordings of four UCLA professors’ introductions, which were available through BruinCast lectures. As we ethnographically transcribed them, we looked out for the features that could shape the way a student would understand the lecture environment. Some behaviors we noted included the way the sentences are structured, the use of rhetorical questions, the use of examples, the tone, and the use of gestures. We also looked at relevant literature to help us interpret and assess the behaviors and patterns we found in our transcriptions. 

Along with these observations, we went a step further to survey the professors and the students to find out what kind of environment professors were aiming to create as well as what kind of environment the students perceived the classroom to have. The surveys asked both the professors and students to describe their classroom environment in their own words and rate the engagement, comfort, and expectation on a likert scale from 1-5, with 1 being the highest and 5 being the lowest. Finally, we conducted thematic analysis where we divided the survey answers into themes and compared these themes to the linguistic behaviors we found within the transcribed introductions. 

Google Forms Survey for Students 

Google Forms Survey for Professors 

Through this process, we would be able to discover whether the features within the instructor introductions would contribute to the overall classroom environment the professor aimed to create, as well as whether these features would shape the students’ views of the classroom environment in the same way as the professor intended. 

Results and Analysis

Table 1: The most common linguistic and pragmatic behaviors within introductions and student and professor perspective of classroom environments amongst 4 UCLA classrooms 

Professor	Professor 1	Professor 2	Professor 3	Professor 4
Linguistic and pragmatic behaviors within their introductions	– Rhetorical questions (syntactic)  – Personal/  relatable examples (semantic)  – Emphasis on “you” (syntactic)	– Hand gestures (pragmatic)  – Jokes (semantic)  – Asks questions (syntactic)  – Laughs and smiles (pragmatic)	– Admits he is bad at emailing (semantic)  – Asks “okay?” at the end of his explanations (syntactic)	– Calm tone (pragmatic)  – Slight smile (pragmatic)  – Pauses to allow for responses (pragmatic)  – To the point – no jokes (semantic)
Professor Perspective of Environment	– Challenging  – Critical Thinking  – High Expectations  – Very Engaging  – Very Comfortable	– Open and informal  – High expectations  – Very Engaging  – Very comfortable	– Functional  – Transparent  – Friendly  – Rigorous  – High expectations  – Engaging  – Comfortable	– Rigorous  – Supportive  – Inclusive  – High Expectations  – Very Engaging  – Very Comfortable
Student Perspective of Environment	– Entertaining  – Organized  – High Expectations  – Very Engaging  – Comfortable	– Collaborative  – Moderate Expectations  – Moderate Engagement  – Very Comfortable	– Open  – Helpful  – High Expectations  – Engaging  – Comfortable	– Collaborative  – Open to different perspectives  – Moderate Expectations  – Moderate Engagement  – Comfortable

Across all data points, we noticed that the student and teacher perspectives were relatively in line with each other, where every student and professor in each class rated the levels of expectations, engagement, and comfort in the classroom as moderate or higher. We also found a correlation between the student and teacher perspectives of the classroom environment in aspects other than expectations, engagement, or comfort. For instance, for Professor 2 and Professor 4, both the students and the professor viewed their classroom environment as being very inclusive and open to student’s different perspectives. 

In addition, we found that the behaviors displayed by each of the professors we looked at could be categorized into three main categories: syntactic, pragmatic, and semantic, and within each category, there were certain behaviors that multiple professors shared. Syntactically, the most common behavior we found amongst the instructor introductions was questions. Semantically, there were multiple professors who used personal stories or examples within their introduction. Finally, the most common pragmatic behavior amongst the professors was smiling and laughing as they introduced themselves. 

Transcription 1: Professor 3 Example of Questions 

Transcription 2: Professor 1 Example of Personal Stories/Examples 

Transcription 3: Example of Smiling/Laughter 

After analyzing our data from both the transcriptions and the surveys, we looked into literature and found that each of the linguistic and pragmatic behaviors that the professors use within their introductions were found to enhance the features of the environments that both the professors and students viewed the classroom to have. Pragmatically, smiles, displayed by both Professor 2 and 4, are found to be “the most important gesture for greeting and an invitation to communicate” (Teodorescu, 2025). By making sure to consistently smile throughout their introduction, the professors can contribute to the inclusive environment they try to foster and encourage students to share their thoughts in class. Syntactically, Professor 2 also uses a lot of questions which not only tests how well the students understand the content, but also prompts discussion and peer interactions amongst the students in the class (Elsner et al., 2013). With these questions incorporated, the professor can make sure that the students are engaged from the very start of the class all while encouraging them to think and share their ideas with those around them, creating an informal and engaging classroom. 

Discussion and Conclusions

These findings point to a larger phenomenon: lasting impressions can be formed based on initial information. In classroom settings, instructor introductions shape expectations and influence students’ perceptions of the classroom environment before any real learning begins. 

We found that the way instructors introduce themselves actually has a noticeable impact on how students perceive the classroom. The linguistic and pragmatic choices in these introductions seem to reflect the kinds of classroom environments instructors intend to create, and students actually pick up on these cues. 

For example, Professor 2 said that they hoped to foster a classroom environment that is open and very comfortable. During their introduction, they laughed and smiled. When surveyed, their students also described the classroom environment in similar terms, saying that it was very comfortable. So, in this case, Professor 2 successfully employed linguistic and pragmatic behaviors to convey their intended classroom environment, and the students’ perception of it was consistent. This also aligns with existing research. Studies suggest that behaviors like smiling can contribute to a more friendly atmosphere (Teodorescu, 2025). 

Overall, our findings suggest that instructors can and should use their introductions intentionally. Syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic behaviors can all be tools for setting expectations and fostering a classroom environment right from the first day of class. If professors have a specific environment in mind, they should intentionally plan and employ linguistic and pragmatic behaviors from the very first day. 

References

Cazden, C. B. (2001). Classroom discourse: The language of teaching and learning. Heinemann. 

Elsner, J., Tofade, T., & Haines S. (2025). Best Practice Strategies for Effective Use of Questions as a Teaching Tool. American Journal of Pharmaceutical Education, 77(7), 155. https://doi.org/10.5688/ajpe777155 

Tanner, Kimberly D. (2013). Structure Matters: Twenty-One Teaching Strategies to Promote Student Engagement and Cultivate Classroom Equity. CBE—Life Sciences Education, 12(3), 322-331. https://doi.org/10.1187/cbe.13-06-0115 

Teodorescu, R. (2025). Teacher’s Nonverbal Language: Unimportant Detail or Influencing Factor in the Educational Process. Euromentor Journal, 16(3), 142-156. https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/teachers-nonverbal-language-unimportant-detail/docview/3287118264/se-2 

Figure 1. Streamer Clavicular moments before driving over a man who had climbed onto his vehicle.

Figure 2. Fan comments posted to Clavicular’s YouTube video within hours of the incident. Approximately 80% of visible comments expressed support, defense, or celebration of the streamer’s actions.

Introduction

When Clavicular’s fans rallied behind him following a car accident in late 2025, they were demonstrating peak parasocialism. Parasocial relationships, first theorized by Horton and Wohl (1956), have existed since television, but their language has evolved. Modern influencers use linguistic tools like inclusive pronouns (“we,” “us”), affectionate address, emotional self-disclosure, and indexical language to manufacture closeness. Although parasocial relationships are widespread (Tyrväinen & Karjaluoto, 2024), research has focused more on marketing outcomes than the linguistic mechanisms behind them. This study addresses that gap by analyzing the speech and fan responses of four Gen Z influencers—Clavicular, IShowSpeed, Emiru, and Nara Smith—to examine how language constructs parasocial attachment and what behaviors it produces.

We hypothesize that inclusive pronouns, affectionate address, and self-disclosure elicit stronger parasocial responses, and that different forms of linguistic intimacy shape distinct fan behaviors—from loyalty to aspiration. We further propose that these bonds extend beyond the screen, influencing fans’ real-world attitudes and actions.

Background

Horton and Wohl described parasocial interaction as “intimacy at a distance,” where audiences feel familiar with performers. This intimacy is constructed through casualness, small talk, and direct address that mimic face-to-face interaction.

Today, influencers build intimacy through disclosive (sharing private life), reciprocal (acknowledging fans), and commercial forms, together forming an “intimacy pact” (Mardon et al., 2023). When disrupted, these relationships can intensify into possessiveness, obsessive monitoring, or anti-fan behavior.

Linguistically, intimacy is created through informal registers, direct address, terms of endearment, second-person pronouns, and spatial metaphors (Roh 2024). These features function indexically, constructing group identity. For instance, Clavicular repeatedly addresses viewers as “boys,” indexing a masculine in-group identity. When fans mirror his language, they participate in this identity, reinforcing the community his speech creates.

Methods

Our study used observational analysis of public interactions from four influencers across platforms: Clavicular (Kick), IShowSpeed (YouTube), Emiru (Twitch), and Nara Smith (TikTok). To standardize analysis, we used YouTube videos for all four cases.

For each influencer, we collected two types of data: video transcripts representing their typical communication style and corresponding comment sections, focusing on high-engagement comments. The dataset ranged from 215 comments (Nara Smith) to 9,826 (IShowSpeed).

Data was analyzed using the SPEAKING model, with specific attention to three components: Key (the emotional tone and intensity of interactions), Instruments (the platform features shaping how intimacy is performed), and Norms (the unspoken community expectations governing closeness between influencer and audience)

This study has limitations. The sample size was small—four influencers and one video each—and comment sections capture only visible fan behavior, excluding private interactions. However, consistent patterns across cases support our interpretations.

Results and Analysis

Figure 3. Linguistic Mechanisms and Fan Response Patterns Across Four Influencers

Influencer	Primary Linguistic Mechanism	Fan Attachment Type	Boundary Violations	Real-World Consequence
Clavicular	Collective address, decision delegation, radical self-disclosure	Tribal/defensive	Violence defense, doxxing, forensic monitoring	Looksmaxxing ideology, bone smashing, hit-and-run defense
IShowSpeed	Chat as third party, spectacle, performative generosity	Romantic/ invested	Stream sniping IRL, parasocial grief	Fans directing his romantic life, extended attachment to third parties
Emiru	Vulnerability disclosure, advocacy framing	Empathetic/ mobilizing	Physical assault, lack of security/ security concerns	Collective institutional action against Twitch
Nara Smith	Aesthetic curation, strategic withholding	Aspirational/ loyal	Relationship interference, obsession, and negative talk about their children (especially their names) You could just say exposure of minors to online spaces or smth	Cross-platform tracking, deep community loyalty

Case Study: Clavicular

Clavicular’s linguistic profile most clearly demonstrates how language produces extreme parasocial outcomes. His primary mechanism is collective address: the word “boys” appears over one hundred times in a single stream. He also delegates personal decisions (outfits, hair, drinking) to chat, creating a sense of direct participation and agency (Roh 2024).

Indexically, “boys” constructs a masculine in-group identity that fans adopt. This is evident in responses to his December 2025 incident, when he drove over an alleged stalker during a live stream. Approximately 80% of comments were supportive. Fans constructed legal defenses, used his vocabulary, and one wrote: “the only issue is he didn’t run them both over.”

This sustained loyalty reflects what Mardon et al. (2023) describe as parasocial relationships that become “negatively charged whilst maintaining their intensity.” Many comments also showed obsessive monitoring—tracking timelines, cross-referencing past streams, and reconstructing events—what Mardon et al. (2023) call “extensive online research” by fans.

Comparison Cases: Intimacy Is Not One Thing

The three remaining influencers enrich this picture, demonstrating that parasocial intimacy is not a single phenomenon but a spectrum of linguistic constructions producing distinct outcomes.

IShowSpeed’s primary mechanism is spectacle, as the chat is woven into every personal moment, including a real-life date, where he directly addresses the audience over thirty times: “Chat, was she capping or not?” The audience is living his life with him. This results in a romantic parasocial investment: when his relationship ended, fans who had never met either person wrote “I wasn’t even dating Amy like Speed was and I miss Amy.” Critically, Speed’s content also normalizes boundary violations: fans tracked him to his precise location mid-date, and rather than expressing concern, he rewarded the behavior.

Emiru’s linguistic profile offers another sharp contrast. Her primary mechanism is vulnerability disclosure, where in a 47-minute stream addressing her assault at TwitchCon, she produces statements like “I could have literally been stabbed yesterday,” “I’ve been failed so many times,” and the self-correction “I’m sorry you had to see that.” This apology resulted in multiple fan comments correcting her self-blame, which exemplifies what Mardon et al. (2023) identifies as disclosive intimacy. Emiru’s comment section shows little possessive language, little forensic monitoring, and less dehumanization than the comment sections of the other influencers, specifically the male influencers. Her disclosure triggers fan self-disclosure in return, creating a seemingly bidirectional emotional bond. However, the fact that a “fan” was able to get past security at TwitchCon and assault her shows that there are real-life implications of this more emotional bond.

Finally, Nara Smith presents our most counterintuitive finding. Her transcript in her video reveals almost no personal disclosure, she never names her husband, conceals her children’s faces, and her most intimate moment is “I overthink gift-giving.” However, fans track her across platforms, write paragraph-length content proposals, and describe her content as “giving calm, self-care, feminine and intrigue.” This gap between what she reveals and what fans feel they know is the largest of any influencer in our dataset, yet community loyalty measured by cross-platform tracking behavior might be the deepest. 

Discussion and Conclusion

This study examined how influencers construct parasocial attachment through language and what consequences emerge beyond the screen. Our findings support the hypothesis that inclusive pronouns, affectionate address, and self-disclosure strengthen parasocial responses, with two key extensions.

First, intimacy is not one thing. Clavicular builds it through collective masculine address and in-group identity construction, producing loyalty strong enough to withstand a hit-and-run. IShowSpeed builds it through spectacle, producing romantic investment that extends to third parties. Emiru builds it through vulnerability, producing empathetic collective action. Nara Smith builds it through withholding, producing quiet but persistent cross-platform devotion. Each mechanism produces distinct communities with different norms and thresholds for harm, suggesting that the linguistic architecture of intimacy shapes fan behavior.

 Second, context matters more than disclosure level alone. Emiru’s vulnerability typically generates little possessive or harmful behavior, while Clavicular’s similar level of disclosure produced doxxing, forensic monitoring, and defense of violence. The difference lies in the social worlds constructed through language. Male-dominated content appears to channel loyalty into in-group protection, while advocacy-oriented or feminine-coded content channels it into empathy and aspiration.

Figure 4. Screenshot from BenoftheWeek’s (2026) YouTube video based on Clavicular’s looksmaxxing community, showing instructions directing followers to strike their faces with a hammer to reshape bone structure

The implications are significant. Parasocial bonds extend beyond comment sections into physical behavior, such as looksmaxxing practices, and institutional outcomes, like collective pressure on Twitch. Horton and Wohl (1956) warned that parasocial relationships become dangerous when they override reality. Our findings suggest that contemporary influencer language makes that threshold easier to reach.

References

Addressing what happened at TwitchCon [Video]. Emiru. (2025, October 18). YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_USuIpVAqAw

A day in my life: Holiday shopping🤍 [Video]. Nara Smith. (2025, December 19). YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rIFo5UtLgn8

BenoftheWeek. (2026, January 30). I tried Clavicular’s $1000 looksmaxxing program [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4raQjuxBnU

Clavicular RUNS OVER Stream Sniper.. | FULL STREAM [Video]. Clavicular VODs. (2025, December 25). YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgY1z4Rn7g4

Horton, D., & Wohl, R. R. (1956). Mass communication and para-social interaction: Observations on intimacy at a distance. Psychiatry, 19(3), 215–229. https://doi.org/10.1080/00332747.1956.11023049

iShowSpeed Goes On A Date In South Korea.. [Video]. Live Speedy. (2024, May 17). YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hj56_nSbDjw&list=PLZiR2JvplpXnddlBhavhc4nQeXY0G2qr5

Mardon, R., Cocker, H., & Daunt, K. (2023). When parasocial relationships turn sour: Social media influencers, eroded and exploitative intimacies, and anti-fan communities. Journal of Marketing Management, 39(11–12), 1132–1162. https://doi.org/10.1080/0267257X.2022.2149609

Roh, Y. C. (2024). Fan culture, technology, and the parasocial: How the K-pop industry advances relations between celebrities and fans [Master’s thesis, Georgetown University]. ProQuest Dissertations and Theses. https://www.proquest.com/dissertations-theses/fan-culture-technology-parasocial-how-k-pop/docview/3051223075/se-2

Tyrväinen, O., & Karjaluoto, H. (2024). Unrequited love? A mixed-methods study of parasocial engagement with social media influencers. International Journal of Information Management, 79, 102845. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijinfomgt.2024.102845

Introduction 

Viral media is popular for bleaching daily content into our lives; terms that once only survived on social media are now affecting our everyday lives. Terms like “sigma,” “mid,” or “slay” can be commonly found in comment sections and are now moving into our everyday vernacular. In fact, about 42% of our Gen Alpha participants said new phrases become part of their way of talking within the same day (Figure 5B). In a digital environment where millions of people consume the same content simultaneously, language is changing faster than ever before. Traditionally, linguists have studied language change as a slow process that unfolds over decades. However, the rise of social media platforms such as TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube has accelerated the spread of new linguistic forms (Figure 2). Research in sociolinguistics has long shown that language functions not only as a tool for communication but also as an indexical marker of identity, signaling group membership and social belonging. Despite growing attention to digital language practices, there remains a gap in understanding how evolving social media environments influence generational linguistic differences, particularly between the two youngest generations. Generation Z (1997–2012) experienced the rise of mainstream social media platforms such as Instagram and Twitter, while Generation Alpha (2011– 2025) has grown up immersed in algorithm-driven, short-form media ecosystems such as TikTok and interactive gaming environments like Roblox (Figure 5A). These different digital environments may shape how each generation develops and interprets slang, humor, and online communication styles. Given what we know about the relationship between social media and our two generations, it allowed our group to form the research question: “How has social media directly accelerated linguistic change, and how have Gen Z and Gen Alpha digitally adapted their slang to be used as an indexical marker that signals generational identity?” Allowing us to explore how social media accelerates linguistic change and contributes to generational identity formation by comparing the language practices of the two generations, specifically in their use of slang and style of humor. We examine how slang and humor function as indexical markers that signal generational belonging, how short-form media platforms influence the spread of viral language, and how humor styles differ between Gen Z’s layered irony and Gen Alpha’s “brainrot” communication through a multimodal methodology. By analyzing these patterns, this project argues that emerging digital slang is not evidence of linguistic decline, but rather a reflection of language adapting to new technological and cultural environments. 

Background 

Existing research supports the idea that youth slang plays an important role in expressing identity and belonging. Mary Bucholtz argues that slang among youth communities functions as a social marker that signals identity, group affiliation, and cultural positioning (Bucholtz, 2017). More recent studies have examined how digital platforms accelerate this process. For example, Eti and Rosalinah (2025) analyze TikTok comment sections and show that Gen Z slang spreads rapidly through online interaction and meme culture. Similarly, Khairunissa and Budiwati (2025) demonstrate how influencers contribute to the circulation and normalization of digital slang across social media audiences. Comparative studies of youth language further suggest that Gen Z and Gen Alpha are developing distinct communicative patterns shaped by their digital environments (Paoleti & Mujahidah, 2025; Pillai, 2025). While these studies highlight the role of digital platforms in shaping slang, fewer studies directly compare how these linguistic patterns function as generational identity markers across both Gen Z and Gen Alpha. 

Methods 

In our methods for this project, we have conducted a digital survey on the two generations, in which we received 60 responses in total. Within our defined parameters, 43 participants were Gen Z, and 17 were Gen Alpha. But to further understand our language gap, it should be noted that how they identified themselves was different; 44 people said they were Gen Z, 12 were Gen Alpha, and 4 identified more with millennials (Figure 1). In our survey, we asked what type of slang and brain rot the participants are familiar with, which generations they belong to, their social media usage, and in which context they might use different slang. The participants involved are acquaintances and family members, with Generation Z (1997-2012) making up the majority of our responses, in contrast to those in Generation Alpha (2011-2016). With this reported data, we see that the participants spend a majority of their time on social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram, and also become their main source for developing new slang. We also saw through our 2 interviews with siblings, one in Generation Z and the other in Generation Alpha, how easily language can be influenced not only by consuming social media but also by simply being around a different generation. In Table 1, it is shown that one of the most popular phrase choices among all our generational participants was “cooking/cooked” or “lowkey/highkey.” This demonstrates that there is a bridge between these two generations and shows the similarities in not only how they develop language but also in the type of slang words they share. This allows us to understand that there is a relationship between social media exposure and how language is being adopted into daily vernacular and identity, as well as within the generations we focused on. 

Result/Analysis 

Discussion and Conclusion 

Our research shows that digital slang serves as more than casual vocabulary. The language used in this study serves as an indicator of which generation an individual belongs to. Our results, specifically in Figure 6, demonstrate that social media platforms operate as multimodal communication systems that allow users to share meanings through textual content, visual elements, and generation-specific humorous content. Our research shows that Gen Z and Gen Alpha use language to create new ways of communication, including daily content such as new videos/audios. Our research results have limited how broadly these findings can be applied since we did not account for factors such as sibling influence or cross-generational interaction. Future research comparing older generations, such as Gen X, could further clarify how digital environments could influence language shifts. Recognizing how slang shows identity may help reduce generational stereotypes and improve communication across age groups. Remember, language found on social media can equal identity, and it is evolving faster than ever. So next time you’re doom-scrolling, you may just be scrolling away the next big trending slang. 

References 

Bucholtz, M. (2017). Word Up: Social Meanings of Slang in California Youth Culture. Escholarship.org. https://escholarship.org/uc/item/0c7141bs#main 

Eti, S. H., & Rosalinah, Y. (2025). An Analysis of Gen Z’s Digital Slang: Patterns from TikTok Comment Sections. IDEAS: Journal of Language Teaching and Learning, Linguistics and Literature, 12(2), 3250-3262. http://ejournal.iainpalopo.ac.id/index.php/ideas/article/view/5911 

Khairunissa, M., & Budiwati, T. R. (2025). THE USE OF GEN Z SLANG BY DIGITAL INFLUENCER “AWKARIN” ON HER SOCIAL MEDIA: A SOCIO-SEMANTIC STUDY. Language Literacy: Journal of Linguistics, Literature, and Language Teaching (Online), 9(2), 1092–1098. https://doi.org/10.30743/ll.v9i2.12177 

Paoleti, V. D., & Mujahidah, N. F. Z. (2025). YOUTH LANGUAGE UNCOVERED: META-SYNTHETIC INSIGHTS INTO GEN Z AND GEN ALPHA SLANG. English Review: Journal of English Education, 13(1), 9-16. https://doi.org/10.25134/erjee.v13i1.11425 

Pillai, S. (2025). Generational Linguistics in the Digital Age: A Comparative Study of Gen Z and Gen Alpha English. Research Journal of English Language and Literature (RJELAL), 13(3), 343–347. http://www.rjelal.com/13.3.25/343-347%20Dr.%20Surabhi%20Pillai.pdf 

Other Related Sources 

Gen Alpha is Brainrotted And That’s Okay | Kiara Galway | TEDxKGV School Youth 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCkabQRxdhY

Brain Rot:The Hidden Cost of Endless Scrolling | Vishnu Nemala | TEDxInternationalSchoolOfHyderabad 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jkr8XmF394o

Why did we study this?

For our research project, we specifically focused on water polo players and non-water polo players at and around UCLA. We identified specific language choices among the community of water polo players, and then sought to determine if non-water polo members could understand and participate in this language exchange to test our hypothesis of group specific lexical choices.

Prior research by Eckert and McConnell‑Ginet (1992) describes a similar kind of setting as a community of practice and found that people build local norms and identities through what they regularly do together, including how they talk. Bucholtz (2002) adds that youth and young adults actively shape who they are through everyday cultural practices. Given this past research, we treated water polo slang as one of the tools players use to signal who belongs and how they see themselves in relation to their teammates and non‑athletes. Ishak’s (2017) review of sports communication supports the idea that clear verbal and nonverbal signals are crucial for coordination, cohesion, and role performance on teams. This relates to our idea that having a shared vocabulary is foundational to how players successfully organize themselves in games and practices. Heath’s (2024) study of a UK swimming club shows that banter and shared jokes can help athletes cope with boring or intense training while also drawing boundaries around who is identified as an insider. Schei et al. (2023) finds that when athletes strongly identify with their team and coaches practice identity leadership, intra team communication becomes more effective and supports task cohesion, suggesting that feeling like part of a “we” is tied to how people talk to each other and how information moves through the group.

Commonly used terms in waterpolo help create efficiency for players who share the same background, but these terms can sound insulting, confusing, or even nonsensical to non water polo people who are only interpreting the words based upon their literal definition.  This was the basis for our hypothesis of what we would see in our group interviews, and in our surveys from non‑water polo players.

 How did we do it? 

For this project, we combined an online survey with interviews to compare how water polo players and non‑players interpret commonly used terms in the game. We recruited participants through UCLA networks and personal connections and asked them whether they had ever played organized water polo before answering any questions about language. This allowed us to sort responses into two broad groups: experienced players and people with no playing background.

The survey presented short prompts with de‑contextualized terms that players frequently yell during games, such as “set,” “press,” “drop,” “driver,” and “5‑meter,” and asked participants to define what each word meant in their own words. We deliberately did not give additional context, like describing a specific play, to see whether people could still access the sport’s specific meaning rather than the everyday one. 

To complement the survey, we conducted interviews with five current or former water polo players, focusing on how they actually use this vocabulary in the pool. The interviews also included reflections on how long it took them to learn this terminology and how newcomers respond when they first encounter it in practices or games. Taken together, the survey and interview data gave us a way to see both sides of the same terms: how insiders rely on them for quick coordination and how outsiders struggle to interpret them without shared experience.

What did we find?

Survey: The results we found suggest that water polo language works as insider vocabulary that players learn through participating in the sport. In the survey, most participants who had never played water polo struggled to correctly identify the meanings of common terms used during games. For example, only 1 out of 15 respondents correctly identified the meaning of “set,” and only 3 out of 16 understood the meaning of “press.” Similar patterns appeared with other terms such as “drop,” “driver,” and “5-meter.” For non-players, these words often sounded familiar but lacked the specific strategic meaning they carry in the context of a water polo game. In the questions where only one participant correctly defined a term, that response came from the only respondent who had prior experience playing water polo.

Interview: The interviews with water polo players showed that these terms are used constantly during gameplay and are understood immediately by teammates to create efficient gameplay. Players also described regularly shouting short commands to coordinate positioning and defensive strategy in real time. Because water polo games move quickly and players are spread out across the pool, they said how this kind of condensed language allows them to communicate complex instructions almost instantly which you will hear in the audio below. The players we interviewed also shared that this vocabulary is not something beginners understand right away. All five of those who were interviewed explained that learning the terminology takes time and usually happens gradually through practice and gameplay, instead of being something that is learned immediately. New players often feel confused by the language at first, but over time they begin to understand how these terms have a function within different game situations.

Check out these audio clips from our interviews:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MUnLg9FRJwZIqCuBfIZjgdC1ykzH9Gnz/view?usp=drive_link

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bzoqAP-eYeIs5lTCKzVnSeWQKjwxoX8y/view?usp=drive_link

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1NO0KYyT7nSGmVvF7oLhDHlBmTycINlME/view?usp=drive_link

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vj2k2X93bKg-Rv5iyW7wb-xupo0JexoY/view?usp=drive_link

This pattern reflects what linguistic anthropologists Eckert and McConnell-Ginet (1992) described as a community of practice. The language used in water polo is not just random sports jargon, but it is part of the shared knowledge that players build together. Knowing how to interpret and use these terms signals that someone belongs to the group. The data from the interviews also supported Ishak’s (2017) idea that clear verbal and nonverbal signals are crucial for coordination and cohesion on teams because the participants shared that when plays or specific terms are called out they all typically know what to do and it makes for more efficient game play. 

In linguistic anthropology, communities of practice are important because they show how language and identity develop together through shared activities. Over time, shared vocabulary becomes part of what defines someone as a member of the water polo community. This helps explain why outsiders in the survey struggled to interpret many of the terms. Understanding water polo language requires not just knowing the words themselves, but also participating in the social and physical environment where those words are used. The survey results and player interviews together show how language in sports can function as both a practical communication tool and a marker of social belonging.

So what?

While our project is limited to a relatively small sample from around UCLA, it points to a broader pattern in sports where specialized jargon helps teams function smoothly while reinforcing group boundaries. Looking ahead, similar methods could be used to compare how jargon works in other sports or to explore how players translate this insider language when they talk to coaches, parents, or fans who are not part of their immediate community of practice. The results we have found from this project remind us that many communities, from workplaces to friend groups, develop their own shared language that strengthens coordination and belonging.

Bibliography

Bucholtz, M. (2002). Youth and cultural practice. Annual review of anthropology, 31(1), 525-552. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev.anthro.31.040402.085443  

Eckert, P., & McConnell-Ginet, S. (1992). Think practically and look locally: Language and gender as community-based practice. Annual Review of Anthropology, 21, 461-490. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2155996

Heath, S. (2024). Banter as transformative practice: linguistic play and joking relationships in a UK swimming club. Humor, 37(4), 529-549. https://doi.org/10.1515/humor-2024-0005  

Ishak, A. W. (2017). Communication in sports teams: A review. Communication Research Trends, 36(4), Article 1. https://scholarcommons.scu.edu/crt/vol36/iss4/1  

Schei, G. S., Høigaard, R., Erikstad, M. K., Ivarsson, A., & Haugen, T. (2023). Identity leadership and cohesion in elite sport: The mediating role of intra-team communication. Heliyon, 9(7). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.heliyon.2023.e17853

Introduction and Background

Drag queens are widely celebrated for their visual artistry, but here we want to demonstrate that some of their most powerful tools are actually linguistic. Through wit, playful insults, and references to iconic celebrities and pop culture moments, drag performers manipulate language in highly creative and entertaining ways. 

Drag performance has long been closely associated with camp, a queer aesthetic and discursive style characterized by irony, exaggeration, theatricality, and the subversion of gender stereotypes and heteronormativity. In an early and pioneering discussion of camp, the theorist Susan Sontag emphasized its stylized appreciation of artifice and exaggeration (Sontag, 1964). While Sontag famously described camp as a sensibility that transforms seriousness into playfulness, later scholars like Jeremy Carl Kelley (2013) have argued that camp should be understood not simply as an aesthetic but as a systematic interactional resource used to construct queer identity and community. 

Linguistic anthropologists have also examined the relationship between drag performance and language. Rusty Barrett’s work on gay male subcultures demonstrates how drag queens use stylized speech practices to construct gendered personas and index community membership (Barrett, 1999). Barrett shows that drag performers frequently shift between multiple speech styles, layering voices and identities in ways that challenge conventional assumptions about gender and language.

For any interested readers, a well-known portrayal of earlier drag and ballroom culture can be seen in the documentary Paris Is Burning, which provides historical insight into the performance traditions that shaped contemporary drag culture (see the trailer here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SqvD1-0odY )

One of the most visible contemporary spaces where these practices occur today though, is the television show RuPaul’s Drag Race. Since its debut in 2009, the show has become one of the most influential platforms for drag culture worldwide. It functions not only as a competition show, but also as a cultural space where drag discourse and the camp aesthetics that shape it are performed, circulated, and reproduced for both queer communities and mainstream audiences.

This project builds on these insights by asking the following question:

How is camp indexed through language in a highly ritualized performance context such as RuPaul’s Drag Race, and how does this linguistic performance affirm queer identity and culture?

Methods

To explore this question, our project focuses on the popular “Snatch Game” challenge from RuPaul’s Drag Race. In Snatch Game, contestants impersonate celebrities within a parody game-show format inspired by the classic television show Match Game. Unlike other challenges on the show, Snatch Game is all about wordplay: success often depends heavily on improvisational humor, quick wit, and creative cultural references.

Because this analysis examines drag discourse within a televised competition, it is important to situate the speech events within their broader communicative context. Linguistic anthropologist Dell Hymes proposed the SPEAKING model as a framework for analyzing speech events within their cultural settings (Hymes, 1974). The model highlights how communicative practices are shaped by elements such as participants, setting, norms of interaction, and genre.

Snatch Game represents a very layered communicative environment. The setting is a parody game show embedded within a reality competition television series. The participants include the queens performing celebrity impersonations, the host RuPaul, fellow competitors, the in-game “contestestants”, and the broader television audience. The genre blends improvisational comedy, celebrity impersonation, and drag performance.

These overlapping contexts create a form of layered artifice, where contestants perform multiple identities simultaneously: they perform their drag queen personas, impersonate celebrity figures, and compete as contestants within a reality television format. This complex performance structure makes Snatch Game an especially productive site for examining how camp is linguistically constructed and interpreted in a mediated performance setting. 

For this study, eight iconic Snatch Game performances were selected from across multiple seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race. These performances were chosen as a representative sample  due to their high status within the show’s fan community, illustrating how effectively Ru Paul’s Drag Race disseminates drag performance across the wider culture. Readers unfamiliar with the format can view examples of Snatch Game performances in widely circulated clips online (see this compilation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRm0WKPyC9M ) 

The selected performances were transcribed and analyzed for recurring linguistic patterns.

Results

The analysis revealed four linguistic strategies that appeared consistently across the selected Snatch Game performances.

Table 1. Linguistic resources used to index camp in Snatch Game performances

Linguistic Resource	Description	Function in Camp Performance
Metapragmatic Humor	Jokes that comment on the performance, situation, or the interaction itself	Highlights the artificiality of performance, generates humor
Intertextual Referencing	References to celebrities, films, music, or cultural icons	Activates shared cultural knowledge and signals queer cultural literacy
Sexual Innuendo	Double entendre and playful or absurd references to sexuality	Produces humor through exaggeration and challenges normative expectations
Character Recognition and Subversion	Establishing a recognizable celebrity persona and then exaggerating or distorting it	Creates camp through parody, exaggeration, and reinterpretation of cultural figures

Table 1: Summary of the four linguistic resources identified in the analysis of Snatch Game performances.

These discursive resources allow drag queens to create camp performances that rely simultaneously on humor, cultural recognition, and exaggerated character portrayal. The following are textual examples drawn from the segments we transcribed.

Metapragmatic Humor: Ginger Minj as Adele, Season 7 Episode 7

Ru Paul: It’s a good answer but not a match darling 

Adele: Well could I get a match please, its a fake cigarette 

Intertextual Referencing: Gigi Goode as Maria the Robot, Season 12 Episode 6 

Ru Paul: Now Maria, do you know Siri and Alexa? 

Maria: One second… searching… she’s my sister, bitch

Sexual Innuendo: Bonnie Ann Clyde as “Chair” (Cher), UK Season 4 Episode 7

Ru Paul: Oh yes, and what a solo act you are, I sit on you all the time

Chair: Sit on someone else’s face, I’m busy! 

Character Recognition and Subversion: Jimbo as Shirley Temple, All-Stars Season 8, Episode 4 

Bowen Yang: Snatchlerette number 4, what song would you say best describes your love life, and why? 

Shirley: I would say “The Good Lollipop” cause I’m a sweet trip to the candy shop! I’m all growed up now, I’m one hundred years old! 

Discussion and Conclusion

When taken together, these findings suggest that camp in drag performance is not only a visual aesthetic or comedic style. It is also indexed through a complex set of linguistic practices that allows performers to manipulate voice, reference shared cultural knowledge, and exaggerate familiar identities to humorous effect. 

Ultimately these linguistic strategies do more than just entertain the audience or advance the queens through the competition. They also function as a way of affirming queer identity and community belonging. In recognizing the references, jokes, and exaggerated performances, the queens draw on a shared cultural repertoire, one that draws on decades of queer history, celebrity iconography, and drag traditions.

In this sense, camp functions as a cultural as well as linguistic resource. Through humor, parody, and exaggeration, drag queens create moments of shared recognition that reinforce a sense of community among audiences and performers alike.

By examining the language of drag performance, this project highlights the important role that linguistic creativity plays in shaping contemporary queer culture. More broadly, it demonstrates how camp continues to function as a vibrant and affirming mode of queer cultural expression.

References

Barrett, R. (1999). From drag queens to leathermen: Language, gender, and gay male subcultures. In M. Bucholtz, A. Liang, & L. Sutton (Eds.), Reinventing identities: The gendered self in discourse (pp. 313–331). Oxford University Press.

Hymes, D. (1974). Foundations in sociolinguistics: An ethnographic approach. University of Pennsylvania Press.

Kelley, J. C. (2013). Queering conversation: An ethnographic exploration of the functional properties of camp-based language use in U.S. gay men’s interactions. UCLA.

Natacha Marjanovic, “Be Proud, and Loud”: Linguistic Markers of Pride in Drag Queens’     Spoken Discourse », Discours [En ligne], 32 | 2023, mis en ligne le 22 juin 2023, consulté le 13 février 2026. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/discours/12425 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/discours.12425

Sontag, S. (1964). Notes on camp. Partisan Review, 31(4), 515–530.

Natacha Marjanovic, “Be Proud, and Loud”: Linguistic Markers of Pride in Drag Queens’ Spoken Discourse », Discours [En ligne], 32 | 2023, mis en ligne le 22 juin 2023, consulté le 13 février 2026. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/discours/12425 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/discours.12425

Appendix

Snatch Game, Ru Paul’s Drag Race, Select Transcriptions 

Bonnie Ann Clyde as “Chair”, UK Season 4 Episode 7 

Ru: Up next (.) <take a seat y’all>it is chair (cheering)

Chair: Hey R::u (.) it’s been so long (.)  you might not recognize me since I’ve been reupholstered so many <times>

Ru: [hhh- 

Chair: [You wanna know what they’re starting to call it? 

Ru: What?

Chair: A [chairlift

Ru: [hhh (.) now chair, do you get along (.) with the other furniture in the living room?

Chair: I d::o, I used to be in a relationship with one of them actually we were called table and chair

Ru: [hhh 

Chair: [so

Ru:[hh

Chair: [it didn’t work out so I’m a s::olo act n::ow

Ru: Oh and what a solo act <you are> (.) I sit on you ::all the time 

Chair: Sit on someone else’s face I’m busy

Ru:hhh

Ginger Minj as Adele, Season 7 Episode 7

Ru: Last but not least, music superstar Adele is here

Adele: Could I buy a vowel? 

Ru: What is that darling?

Adele: No emmys! 

Ru: No no no this is the wrong show!

Adele: Okay 

Ru Paul: Where in England are you from Adele? 

Adele: My house 

Ru Paul: Alright, now Dorothy blanks the Tin Man

Adele: Well if it was me, I would say she rips out his heart and then sings a whole album about it, and gets really popular but its not me

Ru Paul: No, no 

Adele: So I said, she polishes his chrome 

Ru: It’s a good answer but not a match darling 

Adele: Well could I get a match please, its a fake cigarette 

Gigi Goode as Maria the Robot, Season 12 Episode 6 

Ru Paul: Hi Maria 

Maria: What’s up, bitch? 

Ru Paul: Now, do you know Siri and Alexa? 

Maria: One second, searching, she’s my sister, bitch 

Jujubee as Eartha Kitt, Season 5 Episode 4

Participant: Contestant number two, I’m originally from Canada, so if we went up there for a winter visit, how would you keep me warm? 

Eartha: I would sensually walk to the thermostat, and turn up the thermostat to a sensible seventy four.

Participant: Contestant number two, same question

Eartha: Ribbet, ribbet, I am a lady frog, and you are a sweet prince, and I am convincing you 

Jinkx Monsoon as Little Edie (Gray Gardens) Season 5, Episode 5 

Ru Paul: Direct fro Grey Gardens its little Edie Beale

Edie: Oh hi Ru 

Ru Paul: How is big Edie doing

Edie: She’s always begging for the paté, but the label is faded, I can never tell if its paté or if its jiblets for the cats 

Edie: Ru, if I might ask you, why you couldn’t have gotten any real celebrities for this game? 

Ru: Well

Edie: I don’t have a single idea who any of these people are, you could’ve gotten Leslie Careoux or Audrey Hepburn or any one of them and instead you got Ketchup? 

Kesha: Ketchup? 

Edie: And that must be Janice Jickson? 

Alexis Michelle as Liza Minelli, Season 9 Episode 6

Ru Paul: Ring them bells, it’s Liza Minelli, or is it Lisa Minulli? 

Liza: No Ru, its Liza, with a Z, it has a Z

Ru: Its Liza with a Z

Liza: WIth a Z!

Ru Paul: Liza Minelli

Liza: I said, Ladybunny’s Palace, 

Ru Paul: Her palace 

Liza: Because, there’s nothing like playing the palace,

Ru Paul:[hhhh

Liza:  Mama played the palace, and I sat right in the fourth row

Ru Paul:[wow

Liza:[She sang right to me

Ru Paul:[Oh boy

Liza: And to all the other homosexuals 

Ru Paul:[hhhh

Ben De La Creme as Maggie Smith, Season 6 Episode 5 

Ru: Alright, Dame Maggie Smith, Cher, completely addicted to social media, even her blank has a twitter account. 

Maggie: Well, ruple, Ruple is it? I understand virtually none of the words that left your lips moments ago, but I did hear the term twitter and I assumed that it’s some sort of a songbird? 

Ru:[hhh Very close, not a match…

Maggie: Am I to understand that one yanks one’s telephone right out of the wall and carries it with him? 

Ru: Yes 

Ru (to Nicki): You didn’t write down anything? 

Nick: No

Maggie: Perhaps she needs another pot of ink to replenish her quill 

Ru: Let’s move on down to Dame Maggie Smith

Maggie:[Well I’m unfamiliar with the work of lady Handler, however I did think that it would be rather amusing if there were libation flavored with…citrus hhh

Ru:[hhhh

Maggie: Can you imagine such a thing 

Ru:[hhh that is really newfangled I can’t imagine such a thing 

Jimbo as Shirley Temple, All-Stars Season 8, Episode 4 

Ru: She’s America’s OG sweetheart, Shirley Temple is here

Shirley: Well hello Ru! 

Ru:[hhhh

Shirley: I won the hearts of America and the world 

Ru:[hhhh yes you did, are you ready to win the heart of a nice “snatchler”?

Shirley: I don’t know, does he know how to babysit?

Ru:[hhhh

Bowen Yang: Snatchlerette number 4, what song would you say best describes your love life, and why? 

Shirley: I would say “the good lollipop” cause I’m a sweet trip to the candy shop

Ru:[hhhhh 

Shirley: I’m all growed up now, I’m one hundred years old

Oyna Nurve as Eddie Murphy, Season 17 Episode 7 

Ru: Up next, comedy superstar, Eddie Murphy is here

Eddie: I’m so excited for tonight’s episode of the Snatch Game woo

Ru: Eddie, which is your favorite Greek superstar?

Eddie: You know its Hercules, Herecules, Hercules, Hercules, Hercules

Ru:[hhhh

Eddie:[hhh oh my mustache almost fell off

Introduction and Background

In recent years, online platforms have witnessed the rise of “brain rot” meme culture, characterized by a highly compressed and playful form of English. Featuring neologisms such as rizz and sigma, this emerging digital dialect—closely associated with Generation Alpha—is shaped by TikTok, YouTube, and gaming communities. Its emergence has generated generational tension, as older speakers often dismiss it as degraded or non-academic, reflecting a broader tendency to devalue unfamiliar forms and overlook the ongoing reinvention of English in a digitalized world (Rachmijati & Cahyati, 2024).

While digital communication highlights the adaptability of English, such forms are not equally appropriate across contexts. As younger speakers become increasingly fluent in Generation Alpha slang, questions arise about their ability to shift into formal academic registers. Conversely, Millennials often struggle to interpret the highly contextual, multimodal discourse of online platforms. To examine this register mismatch, our study focuses on Generation Alpha (2010–2024) and Millennials (1981–1996) (Springtide Research Institute, 2025).

Here, we intend to focus our research on how these two groups perceive linguistic features such as simplified syntactic structure, acronyms, and digital-specific discourse, particularly investigating how they are interpreted in everyday digital communication, and then reformulated within the academic context. Utilizing the previous data classifications conducted by Tilagavati Subramaniam & Muthualagan Thangavelu in the Journal “Exploring The Use of Digitalised Slang in Verbal Communication Among Generation Alpha” data and word meaning shown in Table A.1 Gen Alpha Slang and Definition for reference.

Therefore, we ask, “How has the rise in smartphone usage and digital media consumption, specifically in the form of online humor and digitally-mediated slang, contributed to an overall register mismatch between digital language and academic English language across Generation Alpha adolescents and Millennials?” This question ultimately seeks to determine whether individuals who are fluent in interpreting these highly contextual forms of digital language are equally able to reformulate them within the formal language expected in academic writing.

Methods

We collected data through an online questionnaire distributed to seven participants from both Generation Alpha and Millennial groups. The survey examined both participants’ exposure to digital language and their ability to interpret and reformulate it. Participants first reported their daily screen time and most frequently used platforms. They then completed interpretation tasks based on real examples of online discourse (e.g., “I’m dead,” “too real”), where they expanded comments from an Instagram reel to explain their meaning in context. In addition, participants interpreted a meme involving layered cultural references.

Finally, participants completed reformulation tasks, rewriting slang-based expressions (e.g., “main character energy,” “clout chasing”) into formal academic language. Responses were analyzed by comparing interpretive competence (ability to explain meaning and context) and linguistic competence (ability to produce structured academic language), with attention to patterns across generational groups.

Results and Analysis

All participants reported high levels of digital exposure, with four to nine hours of daily screen time and frequent use of TikTok and Instagram. Both groups were familiar with widely circulated slang such as “rizz,” “slay,” and “no cap,” yet this shared exposure did not translate into similar communicative competence.

When shown the reel, interpreted by the contrasting attitudes of an Asian father before and after his child’s success, Generation Alpha consistently demonstrated strong interpretive ability. When explaining expressions such as “I’m dead,” they produced context-rich paraphrases (e.g., “it means something is so funny that you can’t react normally”), and for “too real,” they referenced shared social experiences (“parents likes telling others what to do”). In the meme task, Gen Alpha participants explicitly recognized intertextuality; one described the meme as “a bunch of brain-rot text where each word references another meme,” showing awareness that meaning emerges from accumulated cultural references rather than sentence-level semantics.

Table B.1 Gen Alpha Slang and Definition

Slang	Meaning
1.Skibidi	Nonsense
2.Sigma	Independent
3.Gigachad	Hyper-masculine ideal
4.Gyatt	Admiration
5.Yeet	Exclamation of excitement
6. Slay	To do something exceptionally well
7.Delulu	Delusional
8. Its Giving	Something Aesthetic
9.Cap	Lie
10. No Cap	No Lie or Truth
11.Vibe	The atmosphere
12.W	Success
13.Tea	Gossiping
14.Fanum Tax	Stealing Something
15.Ate	Awesome
16.Cloud 9	Happy
17.Feeling Blue	Sad
18.Sus	Suspicious
19.Bruh	Addressing someone boy or girl
20.Ohio	Awkward
21.Rizz	Ability to flirt or attract others
22.Drip	Stylish
24.Idk	I don’t know
25.Cook	Doing really well at something
26.Snatched	Looking amazing
27.Bet	Okay
28.Flex	Show
29.Yassify	Exaggerated Beauty
Note:Table B.1 Gen Alpha Slang and Definition referenced Ishita & Radhika Mamidi’s study and compilation 100 slang words and definitions from Gen  Alpha research subject Source: Cited from “Exploring The Use of  Digitalised Slang in Verbal Communication Among Generation Alpha” by Tilagavati Subramaniam & Muthualagan Thangavelu.

This pattern is even more evident in the meme task. One Gen Alpha participant described the meme as consisting of “a bunch of brain-rot text… each word is a callback to another meme,” demonstrating awareness of intertextual meaning. Understanding such content requires familiarity with broader cultural references rather than sentence-level logic.

These differences became more pronounced in reformulation tasks. Gen Alpha participants were generally able to grasp the meaning but struggled to expand it into formal academic language; for example, “main character energy” was reduced to “confidence,” and “clout chasing” to “seeking attention,” omitting evaluative and social nuance. Millennials, however, often struggled at both stages: some failed to interpret phrases like “The function was totally Ohio but the fit was a massive W,” recognizing “W” as success but expressing confusion about “Ohio,” which relies on meme-specific context.

Taken together, these results suggest a distinction between interpretive competence and linguistic competence. Participants are often able to understand digital language but vary in their ability to translate it into formal academic expression.

Discussion and Conclusions

These findings suggest that the gap between digital and academic language reflects differences in how meaning is structured, rather than differences in overall ability. Digital discourse often compresses complex meanings—such as identity, humor, and social evaluation—into short, context-dependent expressions. Academic language, by contrast, requires these meanings to be made explicit and fully articulated. Moving between these systems therefore requires different communicative skills.Generational differences further highlight this divide. 

Generation Alpha participants showed strong interpretive competence, particularly in reconstructing context and understanding implicit meaning. Millennial participants, on the other hand, were more comfortable producing structured academic language but sometimes lacked familiarity with digital cultural references. Rather than indicating a decline in language ability, these patterns point to the coexistence of two distinct but overlapping literacy systems. The observed register mismatch emerges not because one group is less capable, but because different forms of competence are developed in different communicative environments.

Works Cited

Rachmijati, C., & Cahyati, S. S. (2024). Know your skibidi: Navigating Gen Alpha’s slang types and trend on social media X. Proceeding of the 4th International Conference on Research and Development (ICORAD), 3(2), 392–400. https://doi.org/10.47841/icorad.v3i2.219

Springtide. (2025, May 20). New Data From Our Study on Gen Alpha. Springtide Research Institute. https://springtideresearch.org/thirteen-a-first-look-at-gen-alpha.

Subramaniam, T., & Thangavelu, M. (2025). Exploring The Use of Digitalised Slang in Verbal Communication Among Generation Alpha. Journal of Cultural Analysis and Social Change, 10(3), 236–243. https://doi.org/10.64753/jcasc.v10i3.2401

Introduction & Background

Anyone who has watched the same movie in two different languages has probably noticed that the dialogue does not always translate directly. Animated movies, in particular, are landmines for translators. They frequently rely on culture-bound references: nursery rhymes, idioms, historical events, or well-known characters that the original audience is just expected to recognize. In the original English context, these references can enrich a scene by adding layered humor and shared cultural knowledge.

However, when films are dubbed, these elements hit a massive barrier. Translators working in audiovisual media aren’t just swapping English words for their direct Polish or Japanese counterparts; they must make critical, culturally loaded decisions. Should they preserve the original reference and risk confusing the audience? Adapt it to something local and familiar? Or remove it entirely?

These choices mean that translation is never a word-for-word transfer. It is an active cultural process that shapes how global audiences understand the same film. While previous research shows that Arabic dubbing navigates complex dialect choices to build emotional connection (Al-Yasin, 2022), Polish dubbing domesticates references (Leszczyńska & Szarkowska), and Japanese translations often engage in “cultural deodorization” to soften foreign elements (Hyland, 2015), there is still a gap in understanding how major dubbing studios systemically navigate these choices across vastly different linguistic contexts side-by-side.

This project explores how translators adapt these references across Polish, Arabic, and Japanese, and how these decisions reflect specific sociocultural expectations.

Methods: Decoding the Dubs

To figure out how studios handle this, we didn’t just re-watch our childhood favorites; we conducted a qualitative comparative analysis. We zeroed in on culturally dense scenes from Shrek, Shrek 2, Toy Story, Aladdin, Monsters Inc., and Finding Nemo.

We defined a “culture-bound reference” as any element relying on shared knowledge for its meaning or humor (like a specific food, idiom, or pop-culture nod). We then aligned the original English dialogue with its Polish, Arabic, and Japanese dubbed versions.

To make sense of the changes, we coded every translated line using Davies’ (2003) translation strategies framework. The main categories we look at were:

• Preservation: keeping the original reference

• Localization: replacing it with a culturally familiar equivalent

• Globalization: using a more general or neutral term

• Transformation: significantly altering the meaning or structure

• Omission: removing the reference entirely

Coding was conducted by comparing the original line with its dubbed versions and identifying how the cultural reference was handled. In cases where multiple strategies appeared in a single line, the dominant strategy based on the most significant shift in meaning was selected.

While the analysis focuses on linguistic changes, it also takes into account key constraints of audiovisual translation, such as lip synchrony and timing, which can limit how closely dialogue can match the original. This allowed us to interpret translation choices not only as linguistic decisions, but as responses to both technical and cultural pressures.

Results & Analysis: Who Changed the Joke?

When coded using Davies’ framework, the data revealed different adaptation strategies across the three languages.

Table 1: Frequency of adaptation strategies for culture-bound references in Polish, Arabic, and Japanese dubs of English animated films, categorized using Davies’ (2003) framework. The data shows Polish favoring Transformation/Localization, while Japanese favors Transformation/Omission

The patterns suggest that Polish dubbing prioritizes cultural substitution, where the goal is not to preserve the original reference itself, but to recreate its effect for the audience. Rather than expecting viewers to interpret unfamiliar references, translators replace them with culturally accessible equivalents that allow the humor to land immediately. This reflects an underlying assumption that shared cultural knowledge is essential for comedic impact.

Arabic dubbing shows a broader mix of strategies. This flexibility reflects the incredible linguistic and cultural diversity of Arabic-speaking audiences. In some cases, translators localize references, such as replacing “muffin” with ka’k, a well-known Middle Eastern baked good. In other cases, references are simplified through globalization, such as translating “white bronco” as “white horse.”

We found that Arabic dubbing balances between cultural familiarity and broad accessibility. Because dubbed media often targets a wide, transnational audience, translators may avoid highly localized substitutions that would only resonate in one region. Instead, they favor solutions that are widely understandable across dialects and cultural contexts, prioritizing clarity over introducing specific cultural references.

Japanese dubbing tends to rely on transformation or omission, often removing references that don’t translate culturally. For instance, the nursery rhyme reference to the “Muffin Man” is omitted entirely and replaced with a more neutral line self-referencing the speaker as the “Cookie Man”.

Clear favoring of transformation and omission in Japanese dubbing suggests a preference for maintaining clear narrative flow and cultural neutrality rather than confusing the audience with unfamiliar Western concepts. This also aligns with a broader tendency to minimize overt foreignness, allowing the story to feel more cohesive even if some cultural detail is lost.

To see this in action let’s look at the famous interrogation scene in Shrek.

Table 2: Adaptation of the “Muffin Man” nursery rhyme reference in Shrek. This highlights how a single joke fractures into three entirely different linguistic strategies based on cultural expectations.

Disscusion

Our findings confirm that language in animated films is deeply tied to culture. Rather than acting as a direct transfer of meaning, dubbing functions as an active form of cultural adaptation. As Johnson (2020) argues, dubbing exists in a space “between” languages and cultures, where meaning is actively reconstructed to fit new contexts. This helps explain why the same film can feel subtly different depending on the language in which it is viewed.

The patterns observed aren’t just random choices made by translators in a booth; they reflect broader language ideologies about what audiences should understand and how much “foreignness” is acceptable in media. These translation choices affect indexical meaning- the social and cultural associations carried by language. Culture-bound references like the Muffin Man do more than just push the plot forward; they signal shared knowledge, history, and identity. When translators replace or erase those references, the indexical meanings shift, fundamentally altering how audiences engage with the characters on screen.

Ultimately, global media is not experienced uniformly. What may seem like a tiny change to a joke about a muffin actually reveals a much larger, ongoing process of cultural negotiation. The next time you watch a dubbed film, pay close attention to the jokes- you might be surprised by what you’re actually laughing at.

References

Al-Yasin, N. (2022). Translation Procedures of Cultural-Bound Expressions in the Egyptian Vernacular Dubbed Versions of Three Disney Animated Movies. Open Cultural Studies, 6(1), 294-306.

Burczyńska, P. (2012). Translation of cultural items in dubbed animated comedies. Translation Journal.

Di Giovanni, E. (2016). Dubbing and redubbing animation: Disney in the Arab world. Altre Modernità.

Huber, L., & Kairys, A. (2021). Culture Specific Items in Audiovisual Translation: Issues of Synchrony and Cultural Equivalence in the Lithuanian Dub of “Shrek the Third.” Kalbų Studijos, 1(38), 5-16.

Hyland, R. (2015). A culture of borrowing: Iconography, ideology and idiom in Kari-gurashi no Arietti/The Secret World of Arrietty. East Asian Journal of Popular Culture, 1(2), 205-222.

Leszczyńska, U., & Szarkowska, A. (2018). “I don’t understand, but it makes me laugh”: Domestication in contemporary Polish dubbing. The Journal of Specialised Translation, (30), 203-221.

Rababah, L. M. (2025). Cultural challenges and subtitling strategies in American animated movies. Journal of Posthumanism, 5(2).

Some Info and Context 

Our study shines a spotlight on the Thai restaurant workers of Westwood, Los Angeles. In the mid-20th century, Thai migration to the U.S grew significantly, and inevitably Thai-owned businesses grew in urban centers (Losavio, 2021). Now, some might say almost every town in America has a Thai restaurant. More specifically though, LA Thai restaurants shape the representation of Thai identity and community (Padoongpatt, 2011). They function as multilingual and multicultural spaces, despite being in a predominantly English-speaking city. LA is a unique location to research Thai people; most of them didn’t immigrate to flee war and were instead seeking opportunities (Losavio, 2021). Most were already middle-to-upper-class people who immigrated for higher education, tourism, or careers. 

Figure 1. Locations of top-rated Thai restaurants in LA, all observed in Thai Town, Los Angeles.

Thailand used food as a tool of cultural diplomacy through gastrodiplomacy in the 21st century. It’s a form of public diplomacy used to communicate culture and identity through national cuisines, often effectively creating brand recognition and expanding soft power abroad (Raksarat 2022). Cuisine is a tool for countries to shape international perceptions in a globalized world. The Thai government created training programs for chefs, financial assistance for restauranters, encouraged Thai investors to open locations overseas, and special visas for Thai chefs. This increased the global visibility of Thai food and stimulated tourism, shifting international perceptions towards a richer identity rooted in culinary traditions (Raksarat 2022).

Padoongpatt (2011) additionally argues that Thai people undermine their racialisation through food, keeping a distinct identity from other Asian cultures, but also that Thai cuisine is used to establish racial boundaries by white people and that their quest for “exotic” cuisine is ultimately rooted in colonialism and U.S. imperialism. Thai cuisine began to gain popularity in richer white neighborhoods, but it remained dependent on frequently exploited workers with their own hierarchies. These might overlap with Thai cultural norms’ emphasis on respect, age-based hierarchy, and relational harmony. We examined Thai-English code-switching and politeness strategies in restaurant settings shaped by context — norms may be different in multicultural service compared to the average American priority of being direct and friendly. 

What Did We Decide To Do?

The rundown: we looked at three different Thai-owned restaurants in LA, California: Sanamluang Cafe in Thai Town, Emporium Thai in Westwood, and Mr. Noodle in Westwood. Thai Town is one of the two federally recognized Thai Towns in the US. It serves as a Thai cultural enclave and has the largest number of Thai residents outside of Thailand. Westwood is a neighborhood in West LA and is the home of UCLA, with many affluent neighborhoods bordering it. 

We visited all three restaurants in person and took notes of our observations of communication styles with ourselves as English-speaking customers. At Emporium Thai, staff spoke only English with us. The server greeted us with “How are you doing?” and later said, “I like your top.” At Sanamluang Cafe, staff interaction was brief and direct, such as asking “How spicy?” and giving options like “Mild, Medium, Spicy.” Conversation was minimal. At Mr. Noodle, staff interactions were more personal than Sanamluang, but less conversational than Emporium Thai. Our server checked in with “Is everything ok? For to go?” and later “Everything ok na?”. Staff interacted casually with customers.

In surveys, we asked questions about comfort level speaking English and Thai, in or out of work, and with customers or other staff. Questions regarding proficiency in English were rated on a scale of Very Poor, Poor, Average, Good, and Very Good. Questions on the frequency of speaking in English or Thai were rated on a scale of Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Often, Very Often. Questions regarding comfort level speaking English or Thai to customers or staff were rated as Yes, Neutral, No.

We also looked at the menu language of each restaurant and compared how they describe the same dishes. For example, the dish ส้มตำ or /sôm tām/ – Thai papaya salad. On Sanamlaung’s menu, this dish is written in Thai as “ส้มต่ำ ตลาด อ.ต.ก.,” which translates to “Papaya Salad from Or Tor Kor Market” (a famous market in Thailand), and listed in English as “SOM TUM” (the English transliteration). However, on Emporium Thai’s menu, this dish is listed as “Papaya Salad Vegan.”

Figure 2. Side-by-side comparison of menu language from Emporium Thai and Sanamlaung Cafe. Thai Town restaurants appeal to a Thai-speaking audience, while Westwood restaurants use descriptive English names.

Lastly, we recorded and transcribed a naturally occurring interaction between a Thai-speaking customer and two non-Thai diners at Mr. Noodle. The transcript was analyzed line-by-line to identify instances of Thai–English code-switching, and shows how the conversation switches between English and Thai based on who the server is talking to in the group.

So, What Did We Find?

Survey responses from two staff members at Mr. Noodle suggest that both Thai and English are used in the workplace, but English is primarily used when interacting with customers. As seen in Figure 3, they reported comfort speaking English and described the dominant customer demographic as “Americans,” suggesting that English is the primary service language in restaurants serving mostly non-Thai clientele.

Figure 3. Staff-reported comfort in English language use at Mr. Noodle. English is used more comfortably with customers, while Thai is used more in staff interactions.

These language choices can be understood through “audience design”, where language is adapted depending on the expected audience. Restaurants serving mostly non-Thai customers have menu language to make dishes more familiar to Westerners. At the same time, these choices may reflect the commodification of culture, elements of Thai cuisine repackaged to be Westernized.

Figure 4. Lines 7 and 8 from transcript. Example of Thai–English code-switching during ordering. The speaker switches languages within a single utterance and the waiter continues in English when addressing non-Thai diners.

To further support this pattern, the transcript from Mr. Noodle shows a waiter switching between Thai and English depending on who they are addressing (Figure 4). The waiter speaks Thai with the Thai-speaking customer but switches to English when communicating with other diners, particularly when discussing spice levels. This suggests that the Thai-speaking customer acts as a linguistic intermediary between staff and other diners. 

Field notes also show differences in interactional style across restaurants. At Emporium Thai, staff used more positive face strategies, while interactions at Sanamluang used negative face strategies. Restaurants serving mostly non-Thai clientele tend to use more English and culturally adapted menu descriptions of Thai dishes, while establishments in Thai Town retain more traditional Thai terminology. This suggests that language choice and interaction style shift depending on the expected customer base, highlighting how restaurants adapt linguistically to their surrounding communities. Overall, code-switching functions as a practical and social strategy, helping workers navigate cultural expectations, communicate effectively, and adapt Thai identity to diverse audiences.

Food For Thought

Mr. Noodle appears to occupy a middle position between these models. Based on our notes, Mr. Noodle seems to cater more toward Asian or Asian-American customers, incorporating several pan-Asian items. The restaurant lists “Hainan Chicken” rather than the Thai name “Khao Man Gai,” which may make the dish recognizable to a broader audience. Interaction styles also fell between the other two restaurants: staff interactions had less positive face than at Emporium Thai but more conversational exchanges than observed at Sanamluang. Our transcript also shows staff switching between languages depending on the customer, suggesting that the restaurant navigates multiple linguistic and cultural audiences at once. Though Emporium Thai and Mr. Noodle are both in Westwood, our findings suggest there can still be stark linguistic differences in customer-staff interactions tied to the specific demographic of the restaurant area, demonstrating a wide range of linguistic flexibility within one neighborhood. Our theory is that since the location of Mr. Noodle is very close to UCLA and its diverse population, it influences the language used. Emporium Thai is located further, and the language used by staff could be influenced by the demographics of the predominantly White surrounding areas.

This linguistic flexibility shows a willingness to adapt to different environments and market Thai culture to different audiences. The history of Thai immigration may allow Thai immigrants more flexibility to adapt to Western audiences, confident in the preservation of their culture. The claim that Thailand was the “only South East Asian country to avoid colonization from a European power” created a sense of exceptionalism and national pride (Losavio, 2021). When there is less concern for survival and preservation, it typically follows that there is less concern for loss, as perhaps showcased by Thai immigrants’ willingness to adapt and blend for a higher Western appeal.

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Losavio, J. (2021). Temporary Thais: Circular Thai–US Migration in the 1960s. Journal of American Ethnic History, 40(4), 41–85. https://doi.org/10.5406/jamerethnhist.40.4.0041

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