Sociolinguistics

Musical Multilingualism: Constraints and Creativity in Bilingual Songwriting

Cia Evangelino, Saffiya Haque, Allie Kuo, Emma Montilla, Renee Rubanowitz

In music, switching between languages isn’t just linguistic— it’s poetic. Spanglish is in the studio, and it’s topping the charts. This study explores how bilingual artistry harnesses code-switching as a creative tool as it reshapes the landscape of contemporary music.

Code-switching typically signals affiliation or belonging in a community or conveys language-specific ideas, but it evolves into a deliberate stylistic choice in music and art. However, does creative liberty coincide with linguistic constraints? Our research investigates whether song lyrics, as a form of poetry, prioritize meaning over grammatical perseverance.

This article examines how bilingual artists implement code-switching into their lyrics, analyzing their use of borrowing and blending through the lens of Code Copying Framework and Poplack’s constraints.

We focused on the bilingual lyrics of Rosalía and Kali Uchis, two Spanish-language musicians with distinct bilingual backgrounds. Our analysis revealed that Rosalía, as an L2 English speaker, predominantly uses shorter borrowings and code copies to preserve English-specific semantic nuances, often refraining from full code-switching. In contrast, Kali Uchis, a simultaneous English-Spanish bilingual, employs/favors longer, fluid borrowings at clausal boundaries, seamlessly switching between two languages line by line. We hypothesize that these differences in their approach to bilingual lyricism come from their dominant language preferences and differing linguistic proficiencies.

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Introduction and Background

In today’s world, bilingual music is a new and exciting way for artists to express their identity and connect with different groups of people. Look at Rosalía or Kali Uchis, for example: they both switch seamlessly from Spanish to English, often in the middle of their lyrics. What’s really happening when these artists switch languages so effortlessly? Is it just a trendy way to mix things up, or is more happening beneath the surface?

This blog delves into how bilingual artists navigate the linguistic restrictions surrounding code-switching in music. We will test if certain constraints governing spoken Spanish and English also apply in a musical context. Specifically, we will look at whether Johanson’s (2011) code copying framework and Poplack’s constraints (1980) still hold up in a lyrical format.

To understand what happens when bilingual artists code-switch in their lyrics, it helps first to unpack what code-switching is. Code-switching occurs when a speaker alternates between two languages within or between sentences. For example, Kali Uchis has a song lyric that goes, “That’s the only thing que me da alegría,” which means “That’s the only thing that brings me joy.” Here, she casually switches from English to Spanish mid-song.

According to Poplack (1980), there are some crucial grammatical constraints that bilinguals tend to follow when switching between languages, including the free morpheme constraint, which suggests that bilinguals are more likely to switch languages when one of the languages is a free morpheme. This helps to ensure that the switch does not disrupt the sentence’s grammatical structure. However, Timm (1975) argues that not all code-switching follows strict rules. Some switches and combinations of words may sound ungrammatical to bilingual speakers. Timm states that bilinguals make code-switching decisions based on the context and what feels natural in the conversation. In other words, code-switching is as much about communication goals and cultural expression as it is about grammar. However, there is another layer to all this, which is that of music. Lyrics are more than just spoken language; they are a form of artistic expression, so they have more leeway to break the “rules” of language and grammar regarding creativity. In music, artists like Rosalía and Kali Uchis often code-switch between English and Spanish to communicate and express their identity, emotions, and cultural background. In this context, code-switching may not always conform to the strict linguistic rules established by Poplack and others. These two artists’ flexibility in language reflects their different bilingual experiences and how they shape how they mesh languages in their songs.

Methods

To understand and answer our research question, we analyzed the lyrics of two prominent Spanish-English artists, Rosalía and Kali Uchis. We chose these two artists for their unique linguistic and cultural backgrounds and active use of code- and language-switching in their music. In terms of similarities, both artists are of a similar age and release Latin/Spanish music of similar genres. We thought this genre of music in particular, would be insightful to focus on, as the informality and structure of their song lyrics are a contrast from previous code-switching examples we have looked at through this course. Both women have also each built an alternative, trend-setting brand image and self-identities that hinge largely on themes of confidence, sex positivity, femininity, and empowerment.

Rosalia, photo via Europa Press News                            Kali Uchis, photo via Felipe Q Noguiera

Beyond these similarities that allow for standardization of our data collection, we chose Rosalía and Kali Uchis because they also represent two distinct types of bilingualism and cultural experiences, providing a rich contrast for analysis. Rosalía, born in Catalonia, Spain, is a sequential bilingual who grew up speaking Spanish and Catalan as her native languages before learning English later in life — we categorized her as an L2 English speaker. While she began her music career with a strong focus on Flamenco and traditional Spanish music, Rosalía recently transitioned into Latin and alternative reggaetón-inspired pop. Kali Uchis, in contrast, is a simultaneous bilingual born in the United States to Colombian parents. Growing up, she was exposed to both Spanish and English equally, having spent significant time in both Virginia, USA and Colombia. This dual-culture childhood is reflected in the blending of the two languages in her songs. Her discography began predominantly in English but has recently shifted to more Latin music. By examining these two artists, we hoped to explore how their bilingual backgrounds shape their distinct approaches to code-switching and linguistic creativity and how their different upbringings may have manifested themselves into their music.

We collected data by identifying ten songs from each of these two artists. We used the metric of the number of Spotify streams per song to choose their most popular music. In our data filtering, we only ensured to include tracks where the artists held writing credits, as this guaranteed that the observed code-switching and linguistic patterns came directly from their creative process rather than external songwriters that we would not know their linguistics backgrounds. Because of this in mind, we chose to include collaborations and feature songs, such as New Woman (LISA feat. Rosalía) and SI NO ES CONTIGO – REMIX (Cris Mj feat. Kali Uchis & JHAYCO), as these song features tended to be 1) highly streamed, and 2) written by the artists themselves. Then, to narrow our focus to bilingualism in music, we excluded songs entirely in Spanish or English, as these songs were not tailored to our interests and would not illustrate instances of bilingual code-switching. Lyrics were sourced from Genius, a widely used database for accurate song transcription, translations from the Genius community comments, or from members of our group who are beginning L2 Spanish speakers.

Example of songs taken from Rosalia’s Spotify artist profile, including streams

After selecting 23 songs for our dataset, we parsed each song, compiling lines of lyrics in which a language switch occurred. To identify these switches, we applied the established definitions of intra- and inter-sentential switching and the structure of the code-copying framework. These lyrics were documented and later analyzed on a robust spreadsheet.

Song Selection Data Samples
Kali Uchis
Song: SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY Remix – Feature   2021 Release 461.5m Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: Yeah, you’ve been starin’ at me (¿Por qué me miras?) That’s the only thing que me da alegría Yo quiero sentirte inside of me
Song: Moonlight   2023 Release 829.8m Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: I just wanna get high with my lover, Veo una muñeca cuando miro en el espejo
Song: telepatía   2020 ReleaseLyric: If you want it, you could take a private plane, a kilómetros estamos conectando


1.2b Approx. Spotify StreamsY me prendes aunque no me estés tocando
Song: Igual Que Un Angel   2024 Release 332m Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: You should’ve seen the way she looked, igual que un angel Heaven’s her residence y ella no se va a caer
Rosalia
Song: Despecha   2022 Release 1.1b Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: Hoy salgo con mi baby de la disco corona, corona, yeah
Song: New Woman – Feature   2024 Release 223m Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: Puta, soy la Rosalía, solo sé servir
Song: TKN   2020 Release 465m Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: Zoom en la cara, Gaspar Noe
Song: Besos Moja2   2022 Release 442.6m Approx. Spotify StreamsLyric: To’ me queda bien con una white tee To’ me quieren casar, soy una wifey

Results and Analysis

In total, we collected data from 23 different songs released between 2019 and 2024, with 10 being songs by or featuring Rosalía and 13 by or featuring Kali Uchis. From these 23 songs, we extracted 19 (38.7% of data) data samples from Rosalía and 30 (61%) data samples from Kali Uchis – resulting in 49 data samples. Generally, most code-switching occurs as an intersentential switch, which means it happens at clausal boundaries between sentences instead of within a sentence.

The results we discovered while gathering our data prove some interesting differences between how sequential and simultaneous bilinguals code-switch. For example, Rosalía, a sequential bilingual who primarily makes her music in Spanish within the Flamenco musical style, is more likely to code switch in her music when in the Latin context or if she appears as a feature on songs with Latin artists. Meanwhile, Kali Uchis, a simultaneous bilingual, is more likely to code-switch in her music in general. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, we could not investigate how heavy of a correlation each artist’s background influences their code-switching/code-coping tendencies. Still, based on the data, we can tell each artist has a preference on how bilingualism is written into their music. We expected a vast majority of code copying to occur within our data. Still, only 40.8% of data resulted from code-copying versus code-switching, with an overwhelming majority of code-copying data samples from Rosalía (80% of code-copying samples). Comparatively, Kali Uchis heavily favors code-switching, with 80% of her data samples containing some form of code-switching. She tends to favor longer phrases of code-switching instead of single-word copies. The data table below shows examples of the different types of code-copying occurring with a song from each artist.

Song Lyric Data Analysis Samples
Igual Que Un Angel – Kali Uchis Kali Uchis, Peso Pluma – Igual Que Un Ángel 0:20-0:30
Lyric: You should’ve seen the way she looked, igual que un angel Heaven’s her residence y ella no se va a caerTranslation: You should’ve seen the way she looked like an angel Heaven’s her residence and she’s not gonna fallAnalysis: Selective copying: igual que un angel mirrors the English structure to retain meaning while adapting to Spanish syntax
fue mejor – Kali Uchis Kali Uchis – fue mejor feat. SZA 1:00-1:10
Lyric: Y me fui en el Jeep a las doce The backseat donde yo te conocíTranslation: And I left in the Jeep at twelve The backseat where I met youAnalysis: Global copy example: “Jeep” and “the backseat” are English words with all properties preserved and integrated into the lyrics
Besos Moja2 – Rosalia
Wisin & Yandel, ROSALÍA – Besos Moja2 2:22-2:33
Lyric: To’ me queda bien con una white tee To’ me quieren casar, soy una wifeyTranslation: It looks good on me with a white tee They all want to marry me, I’m a wifeyAnalysis: Global copying: the English phrases white tee and wifey are borrowed intact and function within the Spanish sentences without alteration
New Woman – Lisa feat. Rosalia LISA – NEW WOMAN feat. Rosalía 1:48 – 1:52
Lyric: Puta, soy la Rosalía, solo sé servirTranslation: Bitch, I’m Rosalía, all I do is serveAnalysis: Selective copy example: semantic meaning of “serve” is preserved, directly translated from English to Spanish

The types of copying that we came across in our data are:

  • Global copies (taking words in their unaltered form and using them within a sentence).
  • Selective copies (the structure of a word or phrase is kept while adapting to another language’s syntax).
  • Mixed copies (switching between one language to another within a sentence or phrase). From our data, a majority of the data uses mixed copying, accounting for 40% of the examples. Global copying accounted for 36% of our data, while selective copying accounted for 16%.

Discussion and Conclusion

From our corpus of lyrics, we concluded that code-switching in music tends to deviate from standard grammatical constraints and, therefore, does not strictly follow Poplack’s Constraints. Instead, code-switching in music more closely aligns with and reflects the artists’ bilingual background. Rosalía, a sequential bilingual, is more deliberate in her switches when using English in songs to identify specific concepts like “wifey” or “to serve.” On the other hand, Kali Uchis, a simultaneous bilingual, is more spontaneous in her use of code-switching; her fluidity between Spanish and English is representative of the dual integration of both languages in her identity. Still, we observed both global and selective copying in the artists’ lyrics and could conclude that global and selective copying are common and focal aspects of bilingual lyricism.

Nonetheless, we acknowledge the limitations of our investigation. Due to the temporal constraints of the quarter system, our project timeline was very restricted, and we could not expand the scope of our exploration and means of data collection. Thus, our focus on two artists and reliance on public information could have been a more comprehensive elicitation of analyses.

Revisiting our initial research questions: If certain constraints apply in spoken Spanish when code-switching to English, do they transfer over the same way into language in a musical context? What types of copying, following the code copying framework, will be found in song lyrics?

The integration of multiple languages in music has far-reaching implications for linguistic research, cultural understanding, and artistic expression. Understanding code-switching in creative language use provides insights into how language patterns manifest in nontraditional language contexts, namely under the influence of the artistic nature of lyricism and songwriting. Code-switching in music also enhances artistic expression by encouraging dynamic wordplay and rhymes across languages. It provides insights into the differences between different levels of bilingualism and types of multilingualism. Moreover, bilingual lyrics serve important cultural functions, as they represent the juxtaposition of cultures, promoting linguistic and cultural diversity, expressions, and communication. Within the music industry, multilingual music can unite different listeners’ cultures and expand the reach of artist audiences.

Although our research yields valuable insights, it needs to be more broadly generalizable to all Spanish-English or other language bilingual musicians. Future expansions of our study will include a larger sample of bilingual artists with a more extensive range of lyrical repertories from more diverse language backgrounds. It would be ideal to have direct access to artists’ accounts of their language to better understand their use and relationship with their respective languages as well as their creative processes.

An important consideration to account for in our investigation is the existence of code-switching patterns for Spanglish that do not necessarily apply to varieties of Iberian Spanish. The present investigation focused primarily on code-switching conventions within a musical genre rather than a dialect, assuming that an artist from Spain would adapt to Latin American dialectal features in this context, but dialectal differences may still occur. We are interested in understanding competing factors of bilingual acquisition and regional norms to further develop our research from this investigation, specifically, the influences of sequential and simultaneous bilingualism and regional norms for language in Latin American versus peninsular Spanish varieties. Additional research directions would look across different genres and investigate the reception of code-switched lyrics among monolingual and bilingual listeners, considering the linguistic influence of lyricism more broadly in language communities.

References

Cris MJ, Kali Uchis & JHAYCO – Si No Es Contigo (remix). Genius. (n.d.-a). https://genius.com/Cris-mj-kali-uchis-and-jhayco-si-no-es-contigo-remix-lyrics

Duran, R. P. (1984). Latino Language and Communicative Behavior. The Modern Language Journal. Exposito, Suzy. “Pop Loner Kali Uchis on Growing up Punk in Colombia and the Struggle to Stay Bilingual.” Rolling Stone, Rolling Stone, 13 Sept. 2019, www.rollingstone.com/music/music-latin/kali-uchis-isolation-colombia-interview-2018-7 00772/.

Gonzalez-Cruz, M. I. (2017). Exploring the dynamics of English/Spanish codeswitching in a written corpus. Alicante Journal of English Studies, 30 (2017), 336-361.

Johanson, L. (2011). Contact-induced change in a code-copying framework.

Lisa (ft. Rosalía) – New Woman. Genius. (n.d.). https://genius.com/Lisa-new-woman-lyrics Lipski, J. M. (2008). Varieties of Spanish in the United States. Georgetown University Press.

Loaiza, K. M. “Kali Uchis”. Lyrics to “ORQUÍDEAS” [Album]. Geffen Records, 2024. Genius, genius.com/albums/Kali-uchis/Orquideas.

Monteagudo, M. (2020). Spanglish code-switching in Latin pop music: functions of English and audience reception. https://www.duo.uio.no/handle/10852/79796

Poplack, S. (1980). Sometimes, I’ll start a sentence in Spanish Y TERMINO EN ESPAÑOL: toward a typology of code-switching1. Linguistics, 18(7-8), 581-618. https://doi.org/10.1515/ling.1980.18.7-8.581

Sayre, A. A. (2022). “Rosalia is unafraid to pull from every corner of the world.” NPR, NPR, 24 April 2022, https://www.npr.org/2022/04/24/1094491641/rosalia-is-unafraid-to-pull-from-every-corn er-of-the-world

Timm, L. A. (1975). Spanish-English Code-Switching: El Porqué y How-Not-To. Romance Philology, 28(4), 473–482. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44941606

Villa Tobella, R. ‘ROSALÍA’. Lyrics to “Motomami” [Album]. Columbia Records and Sony Music, 2022. Genius, genius.com/albums/Rosalia/Motomami.

Rosalía. (2022). Motomami [Album]. Columbia Records. Uchis, K. (2024). Orquideas [Album]. Geffen Records. Uchis, K, and SZA. “Fue Mejor.” Genius, Genius Media Group, n.d., https://genius.com/Kali-uchis-and-sza-fue-mejor-lyrics

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From LOL to JAJA: Code Switching and Community in Spanglish TikTok Comedy

Monique Tunnell, Lori Garavartanian, Marlene Ortiz, Melina Darlas

In the world of TikTok, where creativity knows no bounds, young Latinx creators are redefining what it means to connect through language. Spanglish skits on TikTok combine Spanish and English, making a perfect mix of hilarity and relatability. But these skits do more than just make us laugh, they create a sense of belonging for bilingual audiences navigating their cultural identities in a digital space.

Our study dives into the art of Spanglish code-mixing in TikTok skits to uncover how these creators build community through humor. By analyzing videos tagged with hashtags like #Spanglish and #Humor, we explore the linguistic features behind these skits—inter-sentential alternations and intra-sentential alternations. Focusing on Mexican and Puerto Rican dialects, we explain how these tools aren’t just random word choices; they’re powerful markers of identity and in-group solidarity. We see how viewers react to these humorous takes on bilingual life by looking at comments, likes, and shares and find that these skits are sparking conversations and fostering connections that stretch across the digital Latinx diaspora.

This research sheds light on why certain Spanglish patterns hit harder, gain more traction, and resonate deeper with audiences. Whether it’s through a hilarious Chicano slang twist or a clever Puerto Rican phrase, Spanglish on TikTok proves that humor isn’t just entertainment—it’s a bridge connecting identities, cultures, and people one laugh at a time.

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Introduction and Background

Code-switching is a linguistic phenomenon that has consistently signaled community and group membership, in diasporas or otherwise. It is a feature of language that has often been used to show solidarity with other members of a marginalized group or to signal generational comradery. Persistent usages of code-switching have given rise not only to unique means of language usage, but to what some would consider entirely new languages. This can be seen not only through academic observations of bilingual speakers, but also through the lived experiences of those speakers. One particular space where both academic and personal reflections are abundant is regarding the usage of “Spanglish,” a unique combination of Spanish and English used by many in the Latinx community.

Previous research on Spanglish has found that in cities like New York City, Spanish-English bilingual youth have consistently reflected their cultural belonging and showcased their understanding of bilingual cultural norms through code-switching (Montes-Alcalá, 2024). These findings have helped build an understanding of how Spanglish is evoked as a cultural and social tool, rather than simply a linguistic phenomenon.

Personal narratives have also reinforced this perception of Spanglish as a cultural device. In speaking about her Spanglish usage during a Ted Talk, high school student Alondra Posada (2018) states that Spanglish helps people communicate, especially when they are struggling to learn both Spanish and English at the same time. She also states that Spanglish is a strong representation of both her American and Latinx communities, indicating that it helps her connect and feel comfortable within both elements of her identity. Spanish professor Dra Meduri Soto (2021) reinforces this concept when speaking about the U.S. Latinx community’s usage of Spanglish. She states that her relatives in Mexico usually admired Spanglish when they heard it spoken. She emphasizes that it was hard, if not impossible, to teach them Spanglish because she had acquired it organically as part of her American Latina identity. Generally, Spanglish speakers’ own conceptions and accounts of their Spanglish use reinforces its usefulness as a communication device that brokers understanding and a sense of cultural belonging.

Other studies have added onto this conversation by exemplifying how Spanish-English bilinguals have adapted their usage of Spanglish to other spheres, for example by using online content like memes to resonate with each other and with a broader Latinx audience (Dickinson, 2023). In the digital age, this usage of online resources has become increasingly significant, prompting one to wonder how community building via code-switching and Spanglish has been altered by social media apps and forums, as well as how digital connectedness has molded and shaped code-switching as a whole. These questions and qualms come at a time where content posted on Tik Tok specifically has taken the world by storm, allowing young people a new platform on which to gain popularity and connect with others. Existing research (Daulay et al, 2024) has already shown that code switching in Tik Tok and Instagram comments can shift subjects and showcase bilingualism between app users. Therefore, there is some basis to assume that platforms such as Tik Tok are already being used to create community and solidarity. However, not much is known, at present, about how specific linguistic strategies, such as intra-sentential switches or inter-sentential switches, function in TikTok’s humor-driven environment to build and sustain community connections. These key terms, as well as code switching as we use it in our research, have been defined in the following index:

This study seeks to fill the gap in knowledge regarding social media code-switching tools by analyzing Spanglish TikTok skits, focusing on Mexican and Puerto Rican dialects, to uncover how creators use language to entertain, unite, and resonate with bilingual audiences. By examining linguistic patterns and audience engagement, this research sheds light on how humor and language intersect to strengthen cultural identity in a rapidly evolving digital landscape. Ultimately, the research poses the question of exactly how Spanglish in Tik Tok skits is building humor and community in the Mexican and Puerto Rican online communities and how engagement metrics are reflective of this.

Before formally addressing this question, we had four personal hypotheses. For one, we believed inter-sentential switching would occur more often than intra-sentential switching. Next, we believed many videos would have both intra and inter-sentential switching. Third, we anticipated seeing many comments with personal pronouns and “humorous” emojis. Finally, we hypothesized that comments, likes, and shares would differ more than views when inter versus intra-sentential switching was used. These hypotheses were supported at varying degrees throughout our data collection process, as we will address.

Methods

To understand how bilingual people use Spanish and English in humorous TikTok videos, we picked eight content creators aged 18 and above who use skits and hashtags such as #Spanglish and #comedy. We watched eight videos where these creators mix languages, a practice we’ve already defined as code-switching. We counted how often they switched between languages and looked at two types of code-switches, both of which have also been defined above: intra-sentential switching and inter-sentential switching.

We studied how people responded to these particular videos by checking how many likes, comments, and shares each got. For example, we looked at what kinds of jokes people found funny, how many people saved the videos, and if they shared their own, often extremely similar, experiences in the comments. This helped us see which type of code-switching typically works best to make people laugh and relate to creators. We also noticed how creators used their language background, like “Spanish de rancho” and Puerto Rican Spanish, to connect with their audiences. By studying these videos, we aimed to learn how language blending can be a tool for creativity and connection.

Data Collected: Figure 1 showcases video analytics for a subset of the eight TikTok videos we analyzed for our results analysis. Figure 2 highlights types of code switching and examples of code switches utilized within the same videos. The five videos selected were the first five observed. Additionally, they included the videos with the highest numbers of code-switching, serving as valuable data to showcase.

Video NumberDialectsViewsLikesCommentsTop Comment Themes
1“Spanish de Rancho” & American English511.9k68.5K12831) Shared experience 2) Comedic effect, including mentions of laughter
2Puerto Rican Spanish & American English263.5k67.3k2051) Shared experience  
3Puerto Rican Spanish & American English92.4k76261011) Comedic effect, including usage of “cry” and “laugh” emojis
4Mexican Spanish & American English7.8M1M45991) Shared experience, particularly in familial settings
5Mexican Spanish & American English1.1M156.5k8571) Shared experience 2) Comedic effect, including usage of “cry” and “laugh” emojis
Video NumberDialectsNumber & Types of Code-switchesExample of code-switch
1“Spanish de Rancho” & American EnglishTotal: 28 22 intra-sentential 6 inter-sentential  “I told my patient ‘encuerate’”
2Puerto Rican Spanish & American EnglishTotal: 5 3 intra-sentential 2 inter-sentential“Estamos buscando una pillow”
3Puerto Rican Spanish & American EnglishTotal: 8 6 intra-sentential 2 inter-sentential“I cannot live in a caliente place”
4Mexican Spanish & American EnglishTotal: 3 2 intra-sentential 1 inter-sentential“How to say ‘to tag’ in spanish”
5Mexican Spanish & American EnglishTotal: 15 15 intra-sentential“I speak spanglish of course cuando se me olvida..”

Tik Tok Analytics:

Tik Tok analytics were collected for various reasons. We wanted to see, more generally, how many views, likes, and comments Spanish-English creators were getting for their “Spanglish” centered skits and videos. More specifically, we wanted to be able to compare analytics between videos that used intra-sentential and inter-sentential switching to see if any one of them helped creators gain more popularity than the other. Within the eight total TikTok videos we observed, some words and ways of talking did seem to make videos more popular, garnering more likes and comments. It seemed as though solely using intra-sentential switching was less successful in pulling in likes, relative to the amount of views videos garnered. Figure 3, seen below, exemplifies this. As a note, the average ratios were calculated by taking the ratio of likes to views for each of the eight videos assessed and subsequently taking the mean amongst videos

As can be observed within the figure, videos with both types of switches were over two times as successful at gaining likes when compared to their counterparts with only intra-sentential switches. The videos with both inter and intra-sentential switching often used both types of switches to mirror instances between Spanish speaking parents and bilingual children, occasions which likely evoke relatability. On the other hand, the TikTok videos where people mix Spanish and English in the same sentence didn’t get as many likes or saves, perhaps because they were harder for the audience to follow.

A more qualitative analysis of the video comments also revealed that the Tik Tok audience often uses words in the comments like “I”, “myself”, and “me”, because they are relating to experiences showcased in the videos. They additionally use emojis like “😂” and “😭” to show laughter or emotion. Sometimes, the audience even mixes Spanish and English themselves.

Other Results: After assessing our eight selected Tik Tok videos, we found the following, displayed in Figure 4:

We borrowed methodology previously used in an analysis of code-switching in Instagram videos (Wiraputi et al, 2021). This method looks at not only the number of code switches, but also what percentage of code switches are of a certain type. The methodology we copied had “tag-switching” as well, an extra-sentential type of switching where a speaker inserts phrases from one language into another, but we did not notice the occurrence of tag-switching within our videos and omitted it as a result. The results that we did find showed a few interesting phenomena:

  1. When Spanglish Tik Tok creators code switch in videos, they typically do so more than once. In fact, the average across eight videos was 9.25 code switches per video.
  2. Intra-sentential switching dominates code switching occurrences, taking up over 77% of the code switching we witnessed.
  3. Co-occurrence was in fact common. Only two of eight videos or 25% of content observed did not have both inter and intra-sentential switching.

Having analyzed all our quantitative and qualitative data on video analytics, comments, and occurrence of code-switches, our results yielded the following consequences as far as our hypotheses are concerned:

Discussion and Conclusion

This study of Spanglish humor on TikTok revealed that young adult creators frequently use intra-sentential code-switching, particularly in Mexican and Puerto Rican dialects, to enhance the comedic and relatable quality of their content. Contrary to our initial hypothesis, intra-sentential switching was more prevalent than inter-sentential switching, indicating that the integration of Spanish and English within sentences may occur more commonly with bilingual audiences. Another key insight we came across was the ways in which community and identity building proceeds amongst the Latinx community in the United States. Prior to our studies, we had understood that Spanish varieties, such as that spoken in Los Angeles, are often characterized by convergence, borrowings, and switches (Sánchez-Muñoz, 2017). We had been curious about the role that convergence played on social media and on Tik Tok specifically and whether the blends we witness in real life translate to online spheres. Our analysis pointed us towards the observation that Spanglish serves as a vital tool for expressing cultural identity and fostering community solidarity online, making humor a bridge between bicultural experiences. We also noticed while studying engagement patterns that videos that incorporate both intra and inter-sentential switching see higher engagement, pointing to the idea that utilizing many different linguistic patterns within the same video boosts performance.

Some considerations we have for future research into this field is the generalizability of our findings. Since our findings are specific to TikTok and its user demographics, they may not apply universally across all digital platforms or linguistic communities. Comparative studies across different digital platforms and research completed over a longer period of time could explain how digital code-switching presents itself in other contexts. In essence, the study underscores the importance of linguistic flexibility in digital content, which not only entertains but also strengthens community ties among bilingual Latinx viewers.

References

Dickinson, K. V. (2023). What Does It Meme? English–Spanish Codeswitching and Enregisterment in Virtual Social Space. Languages, 8. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/374657133_What_Does_It_Meme_English-Spanish_Codeswitching_and_Enregisterment_in_Virtual_Social_Space

Hamidah Daulay, S., Husein Nst, A., Randia Ningsih, F., & Berutu, H. (2024). Code Switching in the Social Media Era: A Linguistic Analysis of Instagram and TikTok Users. Humanitatis Journal of Language and Literature, 10. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/383171193_Code_Switching_in_the_Social_Media_Era_A_Linguistic_Analysis_of_Instagram_and_TikTok_Users

Montes-Alcalá, C. (2024, April 15). Bilingual texting in the age of emoji: Spanish–English code-switching in SMS. MDPI. https://www.mdpi.com/2226-471X/9/4/144

Sanchez-Munoz, A. (2017). Tempted by the Words of Another: Linguistic Choices of Chicanas/os and Other Latinas/os in Los Angeles. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/345124311_Tempted_by_the_Words_of_Another_Linguistic_Choices_of_Chicanasos_and_Other_Latinasos_in_Los_Angeles

Soto, Dra. M. (2021, September 15). We Speak Spanglish ¿Y qué? World Outspoken. https://www.worldoutspoken.com/articles-blog/spanglish-its-who-we-are

Sanchez-Munoz, A. (2017). Tempted by the Words of Another:: Linguistic Choices of Chicanas/os and Other Latinas/os in Los Angeles. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/345124311_Tempted_by_the_Words_of_Another_Linguistic_Choices_of_Chicanasos_and_Other_Latinasos_in_Los_Angeles

TEDx Talks. (2018). Spanglish is a Language Too! | Alondra Posada | TEDxYouth@UrsulineAcademy. In YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6N8Zk_EY6G8

Wiraputri, D., & Sultara, K. (2021). Code switching found in cinta laura’s video on her instagram tv. Journal of Language and Applied Linguistics.

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Language of Liberty & Life: Persuasive Discourse in Presidential Statements About Abortion

Why is it that two presidents talking about the same issue can make it feel like we’re living in two completely different countries? This project analyses how President Trump and former President Biden rhetorically frame the issue of abortion. To one, abortion is about individual freedoms, rights and democratic choices, while to the other it is about morals, faith and American values. Focusing on six speeches, three per leader, that were presented between 2020 and 2024, we conducted a discourse analysis and focused on rhetorical appeals (ethos, pathos, logos), tone, emotional triggers and opposition framing. We found that President Trump tends to frame the issue as a moral crisis whereas Former President Biden tends to frame it as a constitutional one. Former President Biden tends to use double the (average) number of rhetorical appeals when compared to President Trump, however they both tend to refer to each other/the opposition almost the same amount. These patterns showed us how political speech is tailored not only be informative, but also to shape public opinion, showing how the rhetoric used can perpetuate a specific narrative and benefit the politician.

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Introduction and Background

Persuasive rhetoric around the topic of abortion varies greatly between people, in this case, the variation addressed will be that of two prominent political figures: President Trump and   Former President Biden, both of whom use persuasive rhetoric to influence people’s opinions greatly, but differ greatly in how they address the public. While the initial objective of their statements may be to inform, they also work to persuade public opinion on various subjects in hopes to garner more voter support and donations.

There is a plethora of research analyzing how political leaders use persuasive rhetoric, particularly framing, emotional appeals, and identity-based language to shape public understanding of controversial ideas. Scholars like Lakoff (2004) have demonstrated how metaphors and framing have influenced voter perception around cultural topics. Similarly, scholars like Jamieson and Campbell (2001) have analyzed how presidential rhetoric uses pathos, ethos, and logos to construct political narratives. This tendency is consistent with Homolar and Scholz’s (2019) analysis of 74 Trump campaign speeches, which shows that crisis-laden, us-versus-them narratives create ontological insecurity and mobilize voter support.

In reference to reproductive rights, scholars like Medved and Rawlines (2000) and Ginsburg (1989) have explored how abortion is framed through competing moral, legal, and religious lenses. However, we have noticed a significant gap in recent work that compares the persuasive rhetorical strategies of former President Biden and President Trump specifically within the context of abortion rights.

Our objective was to fill that gap by asking: How do former President Biden and President Trump use persuasive language to frame abortion, and is it done emotionally, logically and/or by establishing their credibility to their audience? We wanted to understand how social identity and ideology can affect political communication, especially around issues as heavily debated as abortion.

Methods

We selected six public statements, three from each leader, delivered between 2020 and 2024. They were a mix of addresses, campaign speeches, and national statements.

Biden:

  • National address on the Dobbs decision (June 24, 2022)
    • Democratic National Committee speech on codifying Roe (October 18, 2022)
    • State of the Union (March 7, 2024)

Trump:

  • March for Life rally address (January 24, 2020)
    • Fox News interview responding to Dobbs (June 24, 2022)
    • Formal policy statement on abortion exceptions (April 8, 2024)

While the setting and occasion of each speech varied, we did not find a difference in the rhetorical strategies used across formats. This allowed for us to compare content collectively; we performed a manual discourse analysis focusing on three rhetorical appeals: ethos (credibility), pathos (emotion), and logos (logic) as described in Aristotelian rhetorical theory (Crowley & Hawhee, 2004). To code our data, we utilized a coding framework adapted from established methods in political communication research (Jamieson & Campbell, 2001; Charteris-Black 2014). Emotional appeals like personal stories or dramatic metaphors were marked as pathos while references to values or identity and personal experiences were considered ethos. We marked statements as logos if they were factual claims including a reference to the law or cause-and-effect reasoning. We proceeded to also look at how often they used these and the tone they employed when referring to their opposition. Once we had all of this information, we took the averages of the total numbers we were able to tally from observing ethos, pathos, and logos to compare which president uses rhetorical appeals more, or if one of them uses a specific rhetorical feature more than the other. Observing each candidate’s tone also played a key role in this analysis. We also counted how many times each candidate mentioned the other, whether negative or positive, in order to determine if one side mentioned the other more or not and try to see if that potential imbalance could tell us something about their overall persuasion style and technique.

Here are some examples of statements we heard:

Biden:

  • “And it was a constitutional principle upheld by justices appointed by Democrat and Republican Presidents alike.”
  • “The only sure way to protect a woman’s right to choose is for Congress to restore the protections of Roe v. Wade as federal law.”
  • “I grew up in a home where not a lot trickled down on my dad’s kitchen table.”

Trump:

  • “They are coming after me because I’m fighting for you”
  • “You know, it’s about helping women, not hurting women”
  • “Follow your heart, your religion, your faith,”

Results and Analysis

To analyze the information, we decided to summarize our results and convert them into tabs, color-coded schemes, and some bar charts so that our data would be easily recognizable for a non-initiated reader who wants to learn about the topic quickly. Our results found that in total, both President Trump and former President Biden used the most Pathos to connect with the emotions of their audience. However, former President Biden used it a total of 46 times whereas President Trump used it 25 times overall. This shows that former President Biden focuses more on appealing to the heart strings of his viewers. They both used mentions of opposition the least, making us believe that it did not affect either of their persuasion levels, since. In terms of ethos, pathos, and logos, President Trump used logos the least in total while Former President Biden used ethos the least in total but used all rhetorical features more than President Trump. This shows that Former President Biden relied more on legal or statistics-based reasoning (logos), whereas President Trump relied relatively more on personal credibility claims (ethos).

Table 1: Frequency of Rhetorical Features in Each President’s Speeches

Let’s Visualize It

Figure 1: Average Count of Rhetorical Device Use by Presidents

Figure 2: Bar Chart Showing Average Count of Opposition Mentions Used by Presidents

Discussion and Conclusion

Two takeaways from the results that are key factors in persuasion. First, both Presidents work the emotional angle, but Former President Biden does it twice as often as President Trump. Former President Biden speaks about kitchen-table stories and urgent pleas to be an active participant in American society and politics. President Trump still plays on pathos, but leans harder onto credibility, posturing as a guardian of faith and tradition. Second, their styles of framing are drastically different. For example, about abortion Former President Biden frames it as rights, privacy, and the rule of law. Whereas President Trump frames it as a fight to save an innocent life granted by God. This mirrors the partisan split across the nation, liberty language on the left while the right uses language aimed at morals.

Presidential framing influences the subsequent policy discourse. When Former President Biden emphasizes congressional action, he situates the argument within formal institutional mechanisms and encourages legislative engagement. President Trump characterizes abortion as a sacred mission, which reframes the debate to a doctrinal domain that resists policy compromise. Lexical analysis supports this distinction: Former President Biden’s address contains higher frequencies of rights-oriented and procedural terms, whereas President Trump’s statements prioritize morally and religiously coded vocabulary.

Context further adjusts these strategies. President Trump’s April 2024 policy statement includes exceptions for rape, incest and maternal health, indicating a calibrated appeal to moderate audiences. Conversely, Former President Biden’s June 2022 national address following Dobbs employs predominantly legal language, reducing emotive slogans to reach a broader viewership. These variations demonstrate that rhetorical choices are audience-contingent and strategically adaptive.

This project examined six prominent speeches; therefore, generalizability is limited, and manual coding introduces potential subjectivity. Future research should analyze a larger dataset and have a predetermined coding method to validate these patterns. The observed divergences illustrate how presidential rhetoric contributes to sustained polarization in public attitudes toward any issue for which policy is being produced.

References

Biden White House, (2022) Remarks by President Biden on the Supreme Court Decision to Overturn Roe v. Wade. National Archives and Records Administration, bidenwhitehouse.archives.gov/briefing-room/speeches-remarks/2022/06/24/remarks-by-president-biden-on-the-supreme-court-decision-to-overturn-roe-v-wade/

Biden, J. (2024). 2024 State of The Union Address by Joe Biden. The Joe Biden Whitehouse on YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFVUPAEF-sw

Charteris-Black, J. (2014). Analysing political speeches: Rhetoric, discourse and metaphor. Palgrave Macmillan.

Crowley, S., & Hawhee, D. (2004). Ancient rhetorics for contemporary students (3rd ed.). Pearson/Longman.

Ginsburg, F. (1989). Contested lives: The abortion debate in an American community. University of California Press.

Homolar, A., & Scholz, R. (2019). The power of President Trump-speak: Populist crisis narratives and ontological security. Cambridge Review of International Affairs, 32(3), 344–364. https://doi.org/10.1080/09557571.2019.1575796

Jamieson, K. H., & Campbell, K. K. (2001). The interplay of influence: News, advertising, politics, and the mass media (5th ed.). Wadsworth.

Lakoff, G. (2004). Don’t think of an elephant!: Know your values and frame the debate. Chelsea Green Publishing.

Medved, C. E., & Rawlins, W. K. (2000). At the intersection of personal and political: Complicating abortion narratives. Women’s Studies in Communication, 23(2), 167–189.

Messerly, M., & Allison, N. (2024). Trump Says Abortion is Up to the States, Declines to Endorse National Limit, Politico. https://www.politico.com/news/2024/04/08/trump-says-abortion-is-up-to-the-states-declines-to-endorse-national-limit-00151022

National Archives and Records Administration. (2020). Remarks by President Trump at the 47th  Annual March for Life, National Archives and Records Administration, https://trumpwhitehouse.archives.gov/briefings-statements/remarks-president-trump-47th-annual-march-life/

Rev (2022) President Biden Addresses Democratic National Convention, https://www.rev.com/transcripts/president-biden-addresses-democratic-national-convention

TIME (2024). Read the Full Transcript of Donald Trump’s Interview with TIME, https://time.com/6972022/donald-trump-transcript-2024-election/

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“You’re SOO Pretty, Girl!”; Decoding the Power Behind Compliments

Makenna Grewal, Maryam Zakar, Genesis Maciel, Lauren Sadighpour, Ivelisse Castro

You’re standing in the crowded corner of Roccos, celebrating the end of this stressful quarter. A girl you just met smiles at you and says, “Wait, you are literally so pretty.” You immediately thank her, and your heart warms with appreciation…but you’re left wondering. Did she really mean it, or was she just being nice? Was it just a part of the social norm? Why do these moments feel so flattering yet strangely loaded? This exact confusion that most of us have experienced sparked our research. We set out to explore how compliments are used by undergraduate women at UCLA, comparing those involved in Panhellenic sororities and those who aren’t affiliated with Greek life. Our curiosity drove us to understand how something as simple as a compliment can carry layers of meaning, friendship, expectation, and even social power. Through surveys, we found that compliments aren’t just about being nice. They are tools that can sometimes be sincere, sometimes strategic, and sometimes expected to help women navigate identity, group belonging, and unspoken social hierarchies. (Figure 1: Regina George, played by Amy Adams, in movie Mean Girls)

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Introduction and Background

At UCLA, Panhellenic sororities serve as hubs of social life, where language plays a significant role in shaping connections, identity, and a sense of belonging. The subtle yet powerful tool of compliments is crucial in shaping these interactions. But the common question is what exactly happens in these exchanges, and how distinct are they compared to women outside of the Greek Life bubble? This intriguing question led to a deeper exploration into the complexities of everyday communication among younger women. Frequently, sororities make headlines for their perceived social image, sisterhood, and extravagant events, but the nuanced day-to-day interactions that truly define these relationships often go unnoticed. Compliments are perceived as simple affirmations of admiration and are categorized as casual speech, yet they hold intricate layers of significance. They reinforce group cohesion, used as a tactic to navigate social hierarchies, and influence personal identities. After recognizing this unexplored realm, our study aims to compare these interactions between sorority-affiliated women and their peers outside the Greek community. This research is essential to identify the mechanics of social belonging while uncovering how power dynamics and identity negotiations occur in everyday conversations. To accomplish this, we have designed surveys and quantitative research methods focused on dyadic, or one-on-one, interactions among women aged 18-23. By analyzing their experiences, we strive to uncover whether sorority life uniquely shapes communication or if broader cultural factors influence all women’s interactions similarly. Ultimately, this research aims to gain a deeper understanding of how undergraduate women navigate their daily lives within various social structures.

Methods

To examine the use of gendered communication through the use of compliments among college women, our research employed a comparative study of undergraduate women at UCLA, focusing on two groups: women that belonged to sororities and those unaffiliated with greek life. Our goal was to explore how compliments, both verbal and nonverbal, function in how young women build relationships, reinforce identity, and negotiate social dynamics between these groups.

Our research utilized two separate surveys that asked the same questions, though distributed separately among sorority members and non-sorority members. The survey included both quantitative questions, such as frequency and context of compliment use and qualitative questions, for example, descriptions of specific instances in which compliments were given, exchanged, or received. The questions we included in the survey was designed to capture patterns among and between the groups, in addition to their individual perspectives of their lived experiences in this context. Participants were asked about their communication habits in everyday social settings, such as hanging out casually with other girls, social events, and through digital platforms, and how they perceive compliments to be used and received in those interactions.

Our analysis placed an emphasis on the observable elements of communication such as linguistic style, nonverbal behavior, and contextual cues. We applied thematic analysis to qualitative responses to identity recurring patterns in how compliments were used between the groups. The use of discourse analysis in our research enabled us to analyze the functioning of language and communication in reinforcing group norms or upholding social hierarchies. Lastly, comparative analysis was employed in our study to highlight the differences and similarities in the strategies of communication and the function of compliments used by both sorority and non-sorority women. By examining self-reported survey responses, we hoped to gain a thorough knowledge of how young women at UCLA manage social belonging and identity through gendered communication

Results and Analysis

Sorority women report both giving and receiving compliments more frequently than their non-affiliated peers, with many engaging in this exchange multiple times a day. This elevated volume supports the idea that sorority life involves more frequent social interactions where compliments function as everyday tools for communication and cohesion. The constant flow of affirmations may reflect not only a culture of positivity but also an underlying strategy—compliments can be used to reinforce group identity, affirm social standing, or ease interpersonal dynamics. These patterns align with the project’s hypothesis that Greek life intensifies both the frequency and function of compliments, making them a central part of navigating relationships and maintaining one’s place within a tightly knit social hierarchy.

Sorority women more frequently perceive compliments as a social expectation, which suggests that these exchanges are not just spontaneous acts of kindness but part of a broader communication norm within their community. This expectation may foster a culture where compliments serve as a kind of social currency—used to maintain group harmony, affirm alliances, or smooth over tensions. Additionally, the finding that compliments more often lead to deeper conversations or bonding among sorority members reveals their higher social utility. Compliments in these settings appear to function as gateways to relationship-building and group integration, helping women establish rapport and navigate the layered dynamics of Greek life. In contrast, for non-sorority women, compliments may remain more surface-level, serving as gestures of kindness without necessarily opening the door to a closer connection.

Both sorority and non-sorority women overwhelmingly report feeling appreciated after receiving a compliment, suggesting that affirmations are generally well-received across groups. However, sorority women are also more likely to feel empowered (50% vs. 30.8%), indicating that compliments may play a stronger role in reinforcing identity and confidence within Greek life. They also report feeling obligated to return the compliment more frequently (45% vs. 38.5%), hinting at social expectations or pressure to reciprocate. Notably, only sorority women reported feeling suspicious, which may reflect an awareness of strategic communication or unspoken power dynamics in their social circles.

Discussion and Conclusion

By examining the role of compliments among sorority and non-sorority girls at UCLA, this study contributes to a broader understanding of how compliments serve as mechanisms of social bonding and power negotiations in female social networks. It offers valuable insight into how gendered communication influences the way young women connect with one another. Popular media and television often depict female interaction as superficial or ingenuine, reinforcing dismissive stereotypes for comedic or dramatic effects. In contrast, our findings illustrate that language not only reflects social norms but also shapes relational dynamics within our social network.

This observation is supported by Ayers (2012), who discusses how compliments and seemingly kind remarks can also function as tools of relational aggression or competition, particularly among young women navigating subtle forms of power. Compliments, in this sense, are not always innocent; they can act as veiled strategies to assert dominance or reinforce group boundaries. Bryan’s (2013) research on sorority women reinforces this dynamic, illustrating how identity control theory plays out in Greek life through continual feedback—where compliments help regulate behavior and self-presentation within tight-knit groups. These findings align with our participants’ reports of both empowerment and pressure, especially among sorority members, who often experience compliments as part of a broader system of expectation, social maintenance, and inclusion.

Although the sample of young women is limited to UCLA specifically, the patterns observed in our findings support the phenomenon of power dynamics shaping female relationships across various social contexts and in fact challenge traditional assumptions about stereotypes embedded in sorority and non-sorority discourse. By recognizing the power compliments hold in day-to-day communication, the study helps highlight the significance female dynamics play in shaping social hierarchies and networks-demonstrating how language can elevate, encourage, include, and ultimately empower the bonds women create over time. Moreover, understanding these nuanced communication patterns encourages more mindful interactions that can foster genuine connection and challenge superficial stereotypes within female social networks.

(Figure 2: Chanel Oberlin, played by Emma Roberts, in TV series Scream Queens)

References

Ayers, Danielle, “Queen Bees: An Examination of the Mean Girl Phenomenon” (2012). Honors Theses. 767.

Bryan, H. (2013). The Sorority Priority: The Role of Interactional Feedback Mechanisms in Shaping Body Image in Sororities.

Frankenberger, W. R. (2024). Relational Conflicts Experienced Through Digital Platforms Among Generation Z Sorority Women (Order No. 31146923). Available from ProQuest Dissertations & Theses A&I; ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global. (3068910761). www.proquest.com/dissertations-theses/relational-conflicts-experienced-through-digital/docview/3068910761/se-2

Rees-Miller, Janie. “Compliments Revisited: Contemporary Compliments and Gender.” Journal of Pragmatics, vol. 43, no. 11, Sept. 2011, pp. 2673–88. DOI.org (Crossref), doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2011.04.014.

Sasso, P., Manning-Ouellette, A., Bullington, K., & Price-Williams, S. (2024). White Girl Wasted: Gender Performativity of Sexuality with Alcohol in National Panhellenic Conference Sorority Women. Georgia Journal of College Student Affairs, 40(1), 32–61.

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Profanity on Play: Analyzing Cursing Patterns of Male and Female Streamers

Izze Castillo, Sophia Le, Simon Oh, Kenneth Tran, Bryan Nguyen

Just died in a game? What’s the first word that comes out of your mouth? This study examines gender-based differences in profanity use among popular gaming streamers to explore how digital platforms reflect and reinforce societal norms related to language and gender.

Existing literature indicates that men generally use profanity more frequently and with greater intensity than women, and that such behavior is often socially accepted or even valorized in men while criticized in women (Bailey & Timm, 1976). Drawing on prior sociolinguistic and gender communication research, this study analyzes the speech patterns of eight prominent male and female streamers, focusing on the frequency, direction, intensity, tone, function, and contextual usage of expletives during gameplay. We hypothesize that men will use direct profanity at a higher frequency, intensity, and variety, using it to express anger and dominance during gameplay, whereas women will use milder swear words at a lower frequency to be more emotionally expressive and maintain relationships. By identifying patterns in swearing behavior across genders in streaming contexts, we can understand how gendered language norms exist and change in online environments.

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Introduction and Background

Gamers have become a major source of online entertainment. They are especially popular among younger generations, who see them as more relatable and authentic than traditional celebrities. Profanity is everywhere in streaming but it’s not treated the same across genders. Male streamers are often seen as funny and entertaining when they swear, compared to females who are seen as rude or inappropriate.

Existing studies comparing the swearing differences between male and females have found that men typically use more intense swear words, swear more in public, and have a larger profanity lexicon than women (Bailey and Timm, 1976). Regarding public perception, men find women who swear less attractive while women find men who swear more attractive (O’neil, 2001). These findings point to gender norms in that cursing is associated with dominance and masculinity. Women who curse may be perceived as deviating from these norms and face more intolerance towards their speech patterns (Lakoff, 1972). Interestingly enough, recent studies have shown that women do not curse drastically less than men, as the rise of social media has increased the swearing rates of younger generations of women (Tikile and Ngulube, 2025). While most studies cover general gendered swearing patterns, we are interested in examining swearing patterns in streaming contexts and if societal gender norms are still enforced on digital platforms. In our study, we analyze the top gaming streamers by analyzing their swearing patterns, identifying trends regarding their speech.

Methods

To explore swearing patterns used in live-streaming environments, our group focused on a select group of popular Twitch streamers: Kai Cenat, Ninja, Caseoh, Jynxzi, Pokimane, Valkyrie, Loserfruit, and Kyedae. They all had at least a million followers and ten million hours of watched content. The streamers also played the shooter games such as Fortnite, Valorant, and PUBG, where entertaining viewers and performing well simultaneously is a key part of their content. We observed how the streamers communicated in various situations, such as under pressure, intense gameplay, moments of frustration, joking with friends and viewers, or reacting to unexpected events of the game.

In a chart, we documented every instance of a curse word within a thirty minute streaming segment and noted its different features. For example, we noted specific profanity used and its intensity. We also observed who or what the curse word was directed to (e.g., the game, the gamer, another player, general conversation, etc.). We noted the volume and tone in which the profanity was delivered (e.g., excited, frustrated, surprised, calm). We also categorized each curse word by type (e.g., sexual, scatological, religious, slur, expletive) and documented the context as well as transcripted sentence in which the word was used. Finally, we noted the function of swearing, such as expressing frustration after dying in the game, emphasizing excitement or disbelief, or entertaining the audience. All data was recorded manually in a spreadsheet where each member documented the curse word and selected tags that applied to the word. Each streamer was viewed twice by members which allowed us to cross-reference observations and resolve disputes in different interpretations of the data, ensuring accuracy and consistency. In the end, we tallied the total number of curse words used in the segment as well as the average time between each curse word for each streamer.

Figure 1: Data collection chart for cursing behavior of streamer “Pokimane” with tags selected for each feature of curse word.

Results and Analysis

Figure 2: Bar chart showing distribution of cursing functions between male and female streamers in proportion of total curse words.

Our analysis reveals that there are distinct gender-based differences in both frequency and function of cursing across male and female streamers. For male streamers, their overall
frequency was much higher than female streamers with 85 total instances compared to 36 instances for women. For the function of cursing, we can see in Figure 2 how male streamers mostly employed it as a way to express frustration or insult 47% of the time and emphasize 32% of the time. In contrast, female streamers used cursing for those functions 28% and 17% of the time, respectively. Male streamers used curse words to instruct 14% of the time while women never used it for that purpose. Conversely, women used cursing to apologize 3% of the time while men never used it for that purpose. This may suggest that women tended to be less confrontational and more intentional with the way they relationally used profane language.

Figure 3: Bar chart showing distribution of curse word categories between male and female streamers in proportion of total curse words.

As far as the type of curse words in Figure 3, female streamers overwhelmingly favored milder, religious profanity, accounting for over half of their total curse words at 55.32%. Male streamers, on the other hand, displayed a broader distribution of slurs (10.38%), scatological terms

(24.53%), and sexual language (27.36%), suggesting their appeal for more intense profanity. This may highlight how male streamers may feel more dominant or accepted by other men, especially in their community, if they adopt the “Boys will be boys!” mentality and incorporate more sexual and derogatory forms of profanity. Women, conversely, must make up for their use of profanity by catering towards less offensive forms and abide by social conventions.

Figure 4: Bar chart showing distribution of cursing intensity between male and female streamers in proportion of total curse words.

Figure 5: Bar chart showing distribution of cursing in negative tones between male and female streamers in proportion of total curse words.

Figure 6: Bar chart showing distribution of cursing in positive tones between male and female streamers in proportion of total curse words.

Lastly, in examining emotional tone, we found that men were more likely to curse in a negative tone, such as sounding annoyed (15%), angry (12%), or condescending (8%). Women were more likely to curse in positive tones, such as friendly/playful (20%), calm (17%), and excited (17%). For the angry and condescending tone in Figure 5, we can see a drastic difference between how much men employed these tones compared to women, who used them just 2% of the time. In Figure 6, this pattern is reversed for positive tones in that women embodied this attitude at a significantly higher rate than men, who only used it 3-5% of the time. These findings suggest that profanity use is not just a matter of vocabulary, but reflects deeper gender communication norms. Male streamers tend to use curse words to assert dominance, frustration, or authority, often paired more intense and negative emotional tones. Women, however, employ profanity more creatively or socially to integrate it into positive and affiliative expressions. This gendered contrast highlights how language, even profanity, is shaped by broader patterns of social behavior, emotional expression, and interactional goals.

Discussion and Conclusion

All in all, our hypothesis was supported in that men used direct profanity at a higher frequency and intensity to express anger, while women used it at a milder, lower frequency to maintain relationships. We can see how both male and female cursing patterns reflect broader gender norms as communication is shaped by culture and societal pressures, even in digital spaces. Men employ profanity to express masculinity, dominance, and intimidation, while women tend to conform to their expectation of maintaining proper, socially acceptable behavior by regulating their profanity to build rapport. This reflects their subordinate, emotionally sensitive role compared to males as they may feel moderating language helps them remain approachable and likable. Previous studies support these findings such as Coates (2015) and Lakoff (1975) in highlighting women’s adherence to cautious, civil behavior in public settings.

Men may not have this capability to regulate emotions as well as they are more aggressive and their brains simply do not have the potential to cope with intense emotions as well as female brains (Güvendir, 2015). This biological basis has shaped gender roles in determining what communication patterns are appropriate for each gender and therefore dictates how people perceive those who conform and deviate from such conventions. Audiences may not receive female cursing as well as male cursing as it’s unconventional for females to use harsh language, prompting a more restrained, lighthearted usage in fear of judgment. Males, however, may be perceived as powerful and admirable in establishing dominance, allowing for more frequent cursing. As gaming is a rapidly evolving environment, it’s important for streamers to recognize these norms and understand the differences in audience perception. Streamers must navigate challenges in maintaining authentic personas and simultaneously conform to gender expectations to resonate and attract viewers that will appropriately receive their content and language style.

References

Bailey, L. A., & Timm, L. A. (1976). More on Women’s — and Men’s — Expletives. Anthropological Linguistics, 18(9), 438–449. http://www.jstor.org/stable/30027592.

Coates, J. (2015). Women, Men and Language: A Sociolinguistic Account of Gender Differences in Language (3rd ed.). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315645612.

Güvendir, Emre. (2015). Why are males inclined to use strong swear words more than females? An evolutionary explanation based on male intergroup aggressiveness. Language Sciences, 50, 133-139. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.langsci.2015.02.003.

Lakoff, R. T. (1975). Language and woman’s place. Harper & Row.

O’neil, Robert Paul. (2001). Sexual Profanity and Interpersonal Judgement. LSU Historical Dissertations and Theses. https://repository.lsu.edu/gradschool_disstheses/427.

Tikile, E. A., Ngulube, I. E. (2025), The Usage of Swear Words Among Generations X, Y and Z in Rivers State University. International Journal of Literature, Language and Linguistics 8(1), 37-49. 10.52589/IJLLL-7YPDRYKS.

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Bro Talk: How Frat Slang Builds Brotherhood at UCLA

Ella Bogen, Celine Cabrera, Emily Henschel, Alexis Robles, Holly Weston

Ever walked past a group of frat guys and heard them say things like “ferda” or “that’s fire”? You might think it’s all just casual talk, but our research shows there’s something deeper going on. We studied how fraternity men use slang and nonverbal cues to build bonds, shape identity, and signal group belonging at UCLA. Language in Greek life is important, not just to sound cool, but to distinguish yourself as an “in-group” member, rather than an “out-group” member. Basically: you’re one of them.

Our project combined interviews, surveys, and real-world observations of frat interactions across several UCLA chapters. We wanted to know: does using more slang actually make you feel closer to your brothers? Our findings show that slang works like social glue, marking who’s “in” and who’s not, reinforcing group norms, and helping brothers navigate power dynamics within the house. Frat guys might not seem like linguists, but they’re constantly doing sophisticated things with language, whether they realize it or not. In fraternities, words like “bet,” “dub,” or even made-up phrases circulate through the house quickly. But this isn’t just meaningless banter. These words carry social weight. We see slang everywhere, but fraternities offer a unique take. They’re structured, male-dominated social groups where “brotherhood” is taken seriously, and shared language reinforces that sense of closeness. So we asked: Does using more slang actually make frat guys feel closer to one another?

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Introduction and Background

Linguist Asif Agha (2015) says that slang exists in “microspaces”, which are defined as tight-knit communities where language choices reflect shared practices. Fraternities are a perfect example of this. Frat slang isn’t just just casual, they’re performances of masculinity and markers of group status. According to Asif Agha (2015), “Many kinds of slang coexist with each other within a language community and define many micro spaces of interaction linked to specific social practices and groups.” Fraternity members’ interactions are the types of microspaces that slang is prevalent within, which is why we chose them for our study, mainly focusing on the significance and role of slang in each interaction.

According to Yanchun Zhou and Yanhong Fan (2013), “If somebody uses the words and expressions within a certain social group or professional group, he will blend with the group members from mentality. That is to say, if a student says a sentence containing the special college slang, he must want to get the result of showing and strengthening the emotion that he is belonging to the inside of the teenager group.” This aspect of assimilation into a group through slang will be a core focus of our study. The idea of an “in-group” and “out-group” regarding understanding and employing slang is elemental to our theory on how slang functions to build social identity and reinforce group norms among fraternity men.

The idea of being in and out of “the know” is highlighted by the following excerpt: “In general terms, identity is realized when those people who are competent with a slang word come to infer that a speaker who uses is a member of the group for whom use is conventional based on their knowledge” (Alice Damirjian, 2024). A study done by Scott Kiesling shows that specific linguistic choices within groups like fraternities, such as slang, serve as markers of group identity and solidarity among fraternity members. He analyzes the “-in” variant among fraternity members and (e.g, “walkin” instead of “walking”).  Kiesling notes, “The -in form, through its widespread indexicality of casualness… is one of the resources Speed, Waterson, and Mick use to take these stances, along with other linguistic features.”(Scott Kiesling, 2005). This demonstrates how fraternities use specific linguistic forms to reinforce group cohesion through shared language.

In terms of linguistic properties typically found in the communicative patterns of slang among fraternity men, brothers often adopt distinct linguistic features that reinforce their group identity by differentiating insiders from outsiders. From an academic article by Pongsapan (2022), it is stated, “In the document analysis and questionnaire result, the researcher found that the students used language variations, especially slang in their interaction with various types, such as fresh and creative, compounding, imitative, acronym, and clipping.” Fraternity slang is reflective of this nature as most slang used by members is often a more casual and playfully coded language than standard, and often specific to Greek life. Phrases and expressions often reflect shared experiences, humor, or references that may be unintelligible to those outside the fraternity. The use of slang fosters familiarity and signals belonging.

Methods

We used a mixed-methods approach to capture how slang operates in these houses:
– Interviews: We sat down with UCLA frat members and asked them how their speech had changed since joining.
– Surveys: We gave participants Likert-scale questions and open-ended prompts.
– Naturalistic Observation: We attended casual hangouts to document body language and informal conversations.

Firstly we conducted a survey via Google Forms and collected 33 responses from Fraternity members in three different houses at UCLA. The survey included both closed and open-ended questions asking about their language use, perceptions of communication differences, and feelings of closeness with their brothers. Many of our questions were open-ended, so we conducted 3-5 minute one-on-one interviews with fraternity members for further data collection. We went deeper with interviews asking members how their language had changed overtime, how slang or jokes functioned in their house, and how these factors impacted their sense of identity and connection. Using both quantitative and qualitative methods helped us capture a fuller picture of fraternity communication. The survey gave us broader patterns, while interviews revealed personal experiences, shared rituals, and the emotional meanings behind the slang.  Altogether, these tools are what allowed us to analyze not just what was said, but how language operates in fraternity settings to reinforce bonds, in-group norms, and a unique culture.

Results and Analysis

Figure 1: Answers to the question “Do you think the type of speech you use in the fraternity house makes you feel closer to your brothers? If so, why and how?”

As seen in Figure 1, 100% of respondents agreed that the type of speech they used in the fraternity house made them feel closer to their brothers. Our survey also revealed that a majority of respondents felt their communication style had significantly changed since joining the fraternity (Figure 2). 90% agreed that they use house-specific slang specifically when within the frat (Figure 3). Interestingly, many also acknowledged that this language created an unintentional barrier to outsiders, and 80% of respondents believed that the average person would not understand the language inside the frat (Figure 4). This data highlights how slang functions not just as decoration, but as a central tool in building and navigating social dynamics within Greek life.

Figure 2: Has your language changed and adapted since joining a fraternity? If so, how?

Figure 3: In the house, do you think you speak differently?

Figure 4: Do you think the average person would understand slang said in the fraternity house among brothers?

Discussion and Conclusion

What the Brothers Said

One brother explained, “Yes, it’s difficult to describe, but there’s a lot of inside jokes, I would say, very, the least formal way that English can possibly be spoken” This sentiment came up often, that slang and inside jokes helped them feel more exclusively connected. Another said, “Um, Absolutely, but it’s difficult to describe. I would say it just comes down like limited vocabulary. For example, if we want to play a drinking game, we’ll just say just one word. Or going out, just go out. Sometimes, like, you get so close to each other, you could literally just point and it works. Kind of like, read each other’s minds.”

Another interviewee emphasized that their slang is constantly evolving: “
Like one person will say something funny and then it’s just kind of part of my lingo for at least like a month or two, and then before I know it, it’ll be something else.” This dynamic adaptation of language shows how slang reflects not only identity but also the constantly shifting social fabric of fraternity life, and the constant lexical changes we go through as a fast-paced generation.

The fraternity context also makes room for a specific kind of humor. “Like, I wouldn’t go insulting my classmates that I’m working on a group project [with], but, like, someone that I live with and, like, I’ve been through the thick of it with them, like, I feel all right, insulting them every once in a while. Totally.” This idea of bonding through teasing or “chirping” was repeated across multiple interviews. It illustrates that fraternity slang isn’t just about phrases; it’s about the tone, style, and culture of communication that define these relationships.

Future Directions

Our project opens up opportunities for questions and future research. Could intentionally modifying group slang affect bonding outcomes in new member orientations? Might there be a way to track how slang evolves in digital spaces like on GroupMe or Instagram DMs? As Greek life continues to adapt to changing campus climates and public perception, understanding the linguistic pulse of these communities may offer insights into broader shifts in masculinity, identity, and group belonging in Gen Z culture.

Our results were technically inconclusive, but heavily suggest a positive correlation between slang use and closer bonding. Slang in fraternities is a tool for navigating identity, forming friendships, and establishing social hierarchies. Our study shows that when frat brothers speak their own lingo, they’re doing more than talking. They’re building brotherhood, one “dub,” “ferda,” and “foenem” at a time.

References

Agha, A. (2015). Tropes of slang. Signs and Society, 3(2), 306–330. https://doi.org/10.1086/683179

Damirjian, A. (2025). The social significance of slang. Mind & Language, 40(2), 138–156. https://doi.org/10.1111/mila.12530

Kiesling, S. F. (2005). Fraternity men: Variation and discourses of masculinity. In D. Santa Ana (Ed.), Tongue-tied: The lives of multilingual children in public education (pp. 105–121). Routledge. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/316501721_Fraternity_Men_Variation_and_Discourses_of_Masculinity

Pongsapan, N. P. (2022). An analysis of slang language used in English students’ interaction. Jurnal Onoma: Pendidikan, Bahasa dan Sastra, 8(2), 917–924. https://e-journal.my.id/onoma

Zhou, Y., & Fan, Y. (2013). A sociolinguistic study of American slang. Theory and Practice in Language Studies, 3(12), 2209–2213.

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“Yearn for the Urn”: How Gen Z and Millennials Use Dark Humor on TikTok to Cope, Connect, and Perform Identity:

Fiona DeFrance, Monique Love, China Porter, Shriya Shekatkar, Lu Zhang

If you’ve ever laughed at a meme about depression and then paused to wonder if you were supposed to, you’re not alone. For Gen Z and Millennials, dark humor isn’t just a way to be funny, it is a form of emotional expression, identity work, and social bonding. On TikTok, this type of humor has taken on a life of its own, acting as both a coping mechanism and cultural signal. This blog will explore how these two generations use dark humor differently. Millennials, shaped by MySpace sarcasm and Adult Swim absurdity, tend to use humor to distance themselves from discomfort. Gen Z, on the other hand, often lean into it, using irony, vulnerability, and meme culture to face trauma head on. By analyzing patterns in TikTok videos, including the language people use, their emotional tone, and how viewers respond, we uncover how dark humor works as a powerful tool for navigating life’s messiness. Drawing on sociolinguistic theory (Bucholtz & Hall, 2005) and humor research (Samson & Gross, 2014), we show how generational identity, emotion, and community are shaped by digital jokes, and why they’re more meaningful than they might seem at first.

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Introduction and Background

Why Joke About Trauma?

What does it mean when a TikTok about grief racks up millions of likes? Or when a stitched joke about student debt leads to hundreds of people commenting, “Too real?” For Gen Z and Millennials, dark humor, jokes that deal with death, anxiety, trauma, or mental health, is not just comedy. It’s a language of solidarity. It’s a way to say, “I’ve been there too,” without getting too earnest or heavy-handed. It’s not about making fun of pain, it’s about making pain bearable by laughing through it. What’s striking, however, is that while both generations lean into this humor, they do so in different ways. Millennials often rely on sarcasm and absurdity to create emotional distance from the discomfort they feel. Their humor is layered, witty, and steeped in cultural references. Gen Z, on the other hand, tends to blend irony and sincerity, using dark humor as a way to be publicly vulnerable, often self-deprecating, chaotic, and confessional. These differences are deeply tied to each generation’s coming of age context and their digital fluency. This blog investigates how these generational styles of dark humor reflect broader identity performances on TikTok. We argue that this humor is a powerful communication tool for expressing emotion, belonging, and generational identity. Through an analysis of both videos and comment threads, we explore how people use humor not just to entertain, but to cope and connect.

Same Joke, Different Vibe

Millennials, born between 1980 and 1994, were the first generation to grow up alongside the internet. Their humor was shaped by platforms like Tumblr, Reddit, and meme forums, where sarcasm, nihilism, and absurdism flourished. Broderick (2018) describes Millennial humor as “cultural therapy,” often used to intellectualize or distance oneself from emotional discomfort. Shows like Rick and Morty capture this smart, ironic, and deeply existential tone. Gen Z, born between 1995 and 2012, came of age in a digital world shaped by Instagram, Vine, and especially TikTok. Their humor style is faster, more fragmented, and more openly vulnerable. Jacob (2023) describes Gen Z humor as a “performance of authenticity,” in which users lean into self-mockery and emotional chaos to show relatability. Instead of hiding pain under wit, Gen Z often makes the pain itself the joke. This shift can be understood through the sociolinguistic lens of Bucholtz and Hall (2005), who argue that identity is not fixed but constantly performed through language and interaction. On TikTok, dark humor becomes a discursive tool, a way to perform who you are and to whom you belong. A single comment like “same bestie 😭” signals not just shared feelings, but shared values and generational belonging.

Methods

What We Watched and How We Looked

To explore how dark humor operates differently across generations, we conducted a qualitative analysis of 10 TikTok videos that shared themes of trauma, grief, or existential dread. We chose videos that had hashtags like #genzhumor, #millennialhumor, #traumajokes, and #griefjourney to ensure generational and thematic diversity. These videos ranged from ironic skits to darkly humorous storytimes. From these 10 videos, we collected and analyzed a total of 236 top level comments. We coded the comments using several frameworks, humor type based on Samson & Gross (2014), emotional tone, generational markers, and linguistic style. We looked for common humor strategies, such as self-deprecation, irony, absurdism, or sarcasm, and also examined how emoji usage, slang, and hashtags helped signal generational identity and emotional intent. Rather than analyzing the content of the videos alone, we focused heavily on how users engaged with them in the comments. These interactions revealed how humor becomes collaborative, social, and identity-forming.

Results and Analysis

Patterns in Digital Dark Humor

Across our sample, four major humor categories emerged. First, self-deprecating humor was the most common, accounting for 38% of comments. These included phrases like “crave the grave,” “I’m not laughing, I’m relating,” and “literally me 😭.” (See Figure 2, Humor Type Distribution). Next, ironic and meta-humor made up 26% of the comments, often blending sarcasm and detachment, such as “ghosting over a joke is crazy 💔” or “me laughing at this while sobbing IRL.” Supportive or emotionally affirming comments made up 21%, often taking the form of gentle validation like “she would’ve loved this” or “sending hugs to anyone who gets it.” Finally, nihilistic or absurd humor made up the remaining 15%, marked by comments like “damn again?” or “just another Tuesday in hell.” (See Figure 2).Looking more closely at generational patterns, we found that Gen Z-coded comments (n = 120) were typically short, fast-paced, and emotionally raw. Commenters used emojis like 🥲💀😭 to intensify their tone, often stacking them for emphasis. Phrases like “same bestie” and “real for that” appeared frequently, offering micro-validations that signaled both empathy and in-group belonging. This aligns with the high rate of emoji use seen in Gen Z comments (See Figure 2, Emoji Use in Gen Z Comments). Gen Z’s humor, which was deeply communal, inviting others to share in the emotional experience. Millennial-coded comments (n = 116), in contrast, were more likely to be narrative-driven. Users told short anecdotes or crafted witty one-liners like, “I screamed into my Trader Joe’s tote bag after watching this.” These comments often featured cultural references, dry sarcasm, or a clear setup-punchline structure. Emoji use was minimal, and tone leaned toward ironic detachment. This generational contrast is further illustrated in Figure 1, which shows Millennials using sarcasm more frequently and Gen Z relying more heavily on self-deprecation. Sentiment analysis revealed that 39% of all comments were supportive, 33% were negative or critical, and 28% blended irony with sincerity. (See Figure 2, Sentiment Distribution)These findings echo Van der Wal et al. (2022), who argue that humor can serve social regulation and bonding functions. On TikTok, we see this in real-time: a grieving user posts a dark joke, and strangers respond with humor, empathy, or shared experience, creating a temporary but powerful moment of digital solidarity.

Discussion and Conclusion

If you really want to understand  how young people cope with stress, loss, and mental health struggles, look past the punchline and into the comments. That’s where the real conversations happen. When a Gen Z user jokes about grief and someone replies “too real 🫠,” it’s not just a laugh, it’s an act of recognition. It says, “I get it. I’ve been there too.” For Millennials, telling a deadpan story about a panic attack on public transit isn’t just entertainment, it’s emotional processing disguised as comedy. What’s especially fascinating is how these generational styles also create boundaries, both of inclusion and exclusion. When someone from outside the in-group comments, “This isn’t funny,” Gen Z users often respond with layered irony or dismissive humor, reinforcing the communal tone of “if you know, you know.” Millennials might disengage or reply with a witty retort, maintaining their signature emotional distance. These micro-interactions show how humor doesn’t just express identity, it defines who’s in and who’s out. Ultimately, these humor styles reveal how differently each generation experiences and narrates vulnerability. Gen Z foregrounds emotional chaos and authenticity. Millennials lean on cleverness and control. Both, however, are trying to do the same thing: make sense of a world that often feels senseless. And in doing so, they build digital spaces where humor becomes survival, and connection.

If you really want to understand  how young people cope with stress, loss, and mental health struggles, look past the punchline and into the comments. That’s where the real conversations happen. When a Gen Z user jokes about grief and someone replies “too real 🫠,” it’s not just a laugh, it’s an act of recognition. It says, “I get it. I’ve been there too.” For Millennials, telling a deadpan story about a panic attack on public transit isn’t just entertainment, it’s emotional processing disguised as comedy. What’s especially fascinating is how these generational styles also create boundaries, both of inclusion and exclusion. When someone from outside the in-group comments, “This isn’t funny,” Gen Z users often respond with layered irony or dismissive humor, reinforcing the communal tone of “if you know, you know.” Millennials might disengage or reply with a witty retort, maintaining their signature emotional distance. These micro-interactions show how humor doesn’t just express identity, it defines who’s in and who’s out. Ultimately, these humor styles reveal how differently each generation experiences and narrates vulnerability. Gen Z foregrounds emotional chaos and authenticity. Millennials lean on cleverness and control. Both, however, are trying to do the same thing: make sense of a world that often feels senseless. And in doing so, they build digital spaces where humor becomes survival, and connection.

Figure 1: Sentiment and Humor Type Breakdown with Gen Z Emoji Use This set of pie charts presents three types of analysis from TikTok dark humor comments. Left: Humor Type Distribution—shows the proportion of humor types (Self-deprecating, Ironic/Meta, Supportive, Nihilistic/Absurdist). Middle: Sentiment Distribution—illustrates the emotional tone across comments (Positive/Supportive, Mixed/Ironic, Negative/Critical).Right: Emoji Use in Gen Z Comments—displays how frequently and in what style emojis appear, with 40% of comments using exaggerated or emotional emojis (e.g., 🤣😭💀), reinforcing Gen Z’s preference for hyperbolic and affective expression.

Figure 2: Comment Style Breakdown by Generation
This bar graph compares the comment styles used by Gen Z and Millennials in TikTok dark humor content. The x-axis shows the three main comment styles (Self-deprecating, Sarcasm, and Empathetic), while the y-axis represents the percentage of total comments in each style. Gen Z (blue) shows a higher rate of self-deprecating and empathetic comments, while Millennials (green) use more sarcasm overall

References

Broderick, A. E. (2018). ” Traumatized for Breakfast:” Why Millennials Respond to the Trauma, Comedy, and Dark Optimism of Rick and Morty. State University of New York at Stony Brook. https://www.proquest.com/docview/2138913981?pq-origsite=gscholar&fromopenview=true&sourcetype=Dissertations%20&%20Theses

Bucholtz, M., & Hall, K. (2005). Identity and interaction: A sociocultural linguistic approach. Discourse studies, 7(4-5), 585-614. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445605054407

Jacob, R. (2023) Unveiling the Dark Humour and Self-Image of Generation Z in a Polymedia Context. The Criterion: An International Journal in English, 14, 215-26. [Journal-article].  https://www.the-criterion.com/V14/n4/LL07.pdf

Samson, A. C., & Gross, J. J. (2014). The dark and light sides of humor. Positive emotion: Integrating the light sides and dark sides, 169. https://books.google.com/bookshl=en&lr=&id=1vNQEAAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA169&dq=how+dark+humor+operates+in+different+contexts+and+what+social+function+it+serves&ots=oJgSRN9EGw&sig=m4AO3FgFdMIjLutcRkYGcT8fh8#v=onepage&q=how%20dark%20humor%20operates%20in%20different%20contexts%20and%20what%20social%20function%20it%20serves&f=false

Van der Wal, A., Pouwels, J. L., Piotrowski, J. T., & Valkenburg, P. M. (2022). Just a Joke? Adolescents’ Preferences for Humor in Media Entertainment and Real-Life Aggression. Media psychology, 25(6), 797–813. https://doi.org/10.1080/15213269.2022.2080710

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The Likelihood of ‘Like’: The Frequency of Discourse Markers Used by Gen Z Influencers in Different Tik Tok Video Contexts

Hayden Hansel, Paige Runyan, Carla Bueno, Tallulah Blinn, Erin Marshall

The universally understood verbal pause, “uh” can be implemented across hundreds of languages. As a constant aspect in communication, discourse markers, also known as filler words, (these two terms will be used interchangeably) are words such as uh, umm, and like which act as pauses in speech to process thoughts. With the rise of casual and conversational styled online media, “uh” (and other markers) are heard now more than ever. We looked at five different Generation Z Influencers to see if different contexts of videos have different frequencies of discourse markers. This posed the question: which type of discourse marker has the highest frequency of use, and is there an association with the number of cuts in a Tik Tok video and the frequency of filler words? We found that there is an association between more informal videos and a higher number of discourse markers in our data set. The most frequent filler word used was the word ‘like,’ and in advertisement videos, we observed a trend of more frequent edits and a lower use of filler words[1].

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Image 1. Spencer Barbosa’s most recent vlog thumbnail showcases her approachable and relatable lifestyle content, reflecting the personal branding style typical of her online presence.

Image 2: TikTok app listing on the Apple App store with logo.

Introduction and Background

TikTok is a social media platform launched in 2016, becoming a globally popular app where users create and watch 5-second to 10-minute-long videos. TikTok uses an algorithm to curate a personalized feed of videos for each user on a “For You Page,” which distributes content. The algorithm prioritizes content of popular creators, leading to a rise in influencers who contribute to trends on the app. The video content varies greatly with marketing, influencing, political activism, comedy, and much more, attracting a wide range of audiences. In the U.S., TikTok has over 30.8 million active users daily, with kids averaging 75 minutes on the app daily (D’Souza, 2025). Demographically, 36.7% of its users are aged 18 to 24, and 52% are female. Notably, 60% of the influencers on TikTok are Gen Z age (Magnet, 2025). With Gen Z having a dominant influencer presence on the platform and females being the primary gender, we wanted to specifically observe Gen Z female influencers, looking at their language use.

Our study focuses on discourse markers, also known as filler words such as ‘um,’ ‘uh,’ and ‘like.’ ‘Um’ was added to the Oxford English Dictionary in 1672, but people used these pauses in speech long before by people of all ages, races, and backgrounds. (Thompson, 2021) (Keyes, 2017). Filler words originated as a pause for speakers to collect their thoughts but have evolved into a common habit in everyday speech. Psychologist Robert Ecklund estimates that up to six percent of our words act as “verbal punctuation” rather than conveying meaning, suggesting seemingly meaningless filler words serve great purpose in communication. With the rise of casual online conversations, like on TikTok, discourse markers can be more prevalently observed in our mainstream media.

Curious about the overall evolving use of filler words and Generation Z influencer’s dominance on TikTok, we examined the frequency at which Gen Z influencers on TikTok use filler words, specifically within different contexts of videos. We targeted Gen Z female TikTok influencers, ages 13-28, with over two million followers. We produced the following hypotheses:

  1. Influencers who produce “informal” content like “get ready with me” and “storytime” videos will have a higher frequency of filler words as opposed to advertisements, which are often formally scripted or influenced by a brand that sponsors the video.
  2. There will be a negative correlation between the number of cuts and the number of filler words used in a video, suggesting that editing in videos reduces the number of filler words[2].

Methods

The methodological approach to this project accounted for the TikTok algorithm and stylistic differences. We started a new Tiktok account for the five of us to view the specific content we were observing in order to avoid our own individually curated algorithms. Each member of our group selected an influencer with over two million followers to research. The five we focused on were: Britany Broski, Spencer Barbosa, Alix Earle, Katie Fang, and Lexi Hidalgo. We recorded data for one vlog video, one get ready with me video, one advertisement video, one beauty or makeup related video, and one storytime video for each influencer. We logged the influencer’s general description such as their name, username, age, and follower count. For each video we recorded the title, the view count, the length, the number of cuts and a count for each of the following discourse markers: like, um, uh, well, you know, I mean, basically, actually, literally, and “other”. We recorded the total number of discourse markers used per video, and the corresponding rate of discourse markers per minute. We analyzed 25 Tik Tok videos comprising 45 minutes of content. From here, we created graphs to further interpret and compare our collected data.

Results and Analysis

We observed the highest counts of filler words in the casual conversational videos. Get Ready With Me (grwm) videos had the highest average of filler words (15.8/video) and beauty/makeup videos had the second highest average (12.6/video). The category with the lowest average number of filler words across all influencers was the advertisement category (5.2/video).

Figure 1- Total Number of Filler Words Per Influencer in Each Category of Video. The graph shows the total number of filler words recorded for each individual influencerin each Tik Tok video category with beauty/makeup and get ready with me being the highest

We noticed that Lexi Hidalgo had significantly more filler words than the other influencers in the dataset. To account for this, we looked at the results without her data and saw that the get ready with me still had the highest average number of filler words (17.25/video), meaning this type of video likely lends itself to more filler words in general. Without Lexi Hidalgo’s data, the lowest average number of filler words was also the advertisement category. We still see a pattern with beauty/makeup videos having the highest frequency of filler words and advertisements having the lowest frequency, even after accounting for our outlier.

Figure 2- Total Number of Filler Words Per Influencer in Each Category of Video (Without Lexi Hidalgo). This figure shows the total number of filler words for each category without Lexi Hidalgo’s data. The grwm category still has the highest average number of filler words.

In addition, we observed the number of edits in each Tik Tok category. We hypothesized that more formal video contexts, such as advertisement videos, will have less filler words and more edits, because advertisements can be edited to communicate a branded message. We found that vlogs had the most edits, with a sum of 247 edits, and ads had the second highest with 130 edits. The category with the lowest number of edits was the storytime category, with 59 edits. This data supports our claim that videos can be intentionally edited to present an individual in a certain way. We see a trend with advertisement videos having the lowest average filler words recorded and the highest number of total edits in our data set.

Figure 3- Number of Cuts/Edits in Each Category of Video.  The figure shows the total number of cuts/edits in the TikTok videos per category. We see that Vlogs had the highest total number of edits and ADs had the second highest.

While we see an association that influencers can edit videos to present themselves in a certain way, it is important to note the stylistic choices online creators can make. Despite the trend that advertisements have fewer filler words, influencers may intentionally choose to leave fillers as part of a stylistic package or preference. Also, we see that certain influencers have preferences in the words they use. For example, Brittany Broski had the highest recorded number of ‘uh/uhh’ across all of her videos in comparison to the other influencers[3].

Figure 4- Total Number of Cuts/Edits in Each Video by Influencer.  The figure shows the total number of cuts/edits in the TikTok videos per influencer. We see that Lexi Hidalgo had the highest total number of edits

Figure 5- Sum of Each Type of Filler Words Per Video Context.  The figure shows the frequency of each type of filler word in each category of video. We see that ‘like’ and ‘so’ had the highest counts in our data.

Discussion and Conclusion

One of the main patterns we saw in our data was that filler words were used much more in informal video types, especially in beauty and makeup videos and vlogs. These are the kinds of videos where influencers are speaking casually, often unscripted, and trying to connect with their audience in a more personal way. The most commonly used filler words were “like” and “so,” which help speakers sound more relaxed and relatable. Although we can’t say that informal video formats directly cause more filler word usage, we did see a strong association between the two. It’s also clear that each influencer brings their own style to the table. For example, Lexi Hidalgo had both the highest number of filler words and the highest number of video cuts; 235 in total. This suggests her fast, edited format and casual speech are part of a “stylistic package” that makes her content feel personable and conversational. On the other hand, Britany Broski didn’t edit her videos as heavily but used the filler “uh” more than any of the other influencers we studied. This shows that filler word use also varies by individual speaking style, not just the video type. Some influencers rely more on certain speech habits, and editing choices also shape how many fillers we hear. Factors like editing, video length, or whether the video is a voiceover versus real-time can all affect filler word counts. Just because an ad has fewer fillers doesn’t mean it’s because it’s an ad, it may also be more scripted or professionally edited. For future research, we could analyze how video length or editing impacts filler word use, and look at whether these words influence audience engagement; do more fillers make someone seem more relatable, and does that boost likes or comments?

References

Abrahams, M. (2021, April 23). “um, like, so”: How filler words can be effective in communication. Stanford Graduate School of Business. https://www.gsb.stanford.edu/insights/um-so-how-filler-words-can-be-effective-commucation

Barbosa, Spencer. (2024). “DAY IN MY LIFE (getting my new house & pilates)” [YouTube thumbnail photo]. Youtube. https://youtu.be/8KelCzKvt3w?feature=shared.

Bestvater, S. (2024a, February 22). How U.S. adults use TikTok. Pew Research Center. https://www.pewresearch.org/internet/2024/02/22/how-u-s-adults-use-tiktok/

Bosker, H. R., Badaya, E., & Corley, M. (2021). Discourse Markers Activate Their, Like, Cohort Competitors. Discourse Processes, 58(9), 837–851. https://doi.org/10.1080/0163853X.2021.1924000.

D’Souza, D. (2022, June 22). What is TikTok? Investopedia. https://www.investopedia.com/what-is-tiktok-4588933

Duvall , E., Robbins, A., Graham, T., & Divett, S. (n.d.). Exploring Filler Words and Their Impact- BYU. https://schwa.byu.edu/. https://schwa.byu.edu/files/2014/12/F2014-Front.pdf.

Erard, M. (2015, September 1). Pause fillers. The American Scholar. https://theamericanscholar.org/pause-fillers/The American Scholar

Lanzarotti, V. (2017, October). What does saying “like” say about you. YouTube. https://youtu.be/IstIqrAyS2I

Magnet ABA. (2024, December 31). TikTok statistics, facts & user demographics. https://www.magnetaba.com/blog/tiktok-statistics-facts-user-demographics

Muliadi, B. (2024, August 12). What the rise of TikTok says about generation Z. Forbes. https://www.forbes.com/councils/forbestechcouncil/2020/07/07/what-the-rise-of-tiktok-says-about-generation-z/.

Munaro, A., Barcelos, R., Maffezzolli, E., Rodrigues, J., & Paraiso, E. (2024, March 28). Does your style engage? Linguistic styles of influencers and digital consumer engagement on YouTube. Does your style engage? Linguistic styles of influencers and digital consumer engagement on Youtube. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0747563224000852

musical.ly Inc. (n.d.). TikTok [Mobile app]. Amazon. Retrieved June 6, 2025, from https://www.amazon.com/musical-ly-Inc-TikTok/dp/B0117U0G3M

The Daily Free Press. (2011, April 13). Historically, the speech hesitation. https://dailyfreepress.com/04/13/11/177892/

Zhu, G., Caceres, J.P., & Salamon, J. (2022). Filler Word Detection and Classification: A Dataset and Benchmark. (arXiv:2203.15135v2 [cs.CL]).

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The Effect of Code-Switching on Voice Onset Time (VOT) in Spanish-English Bilinguals

Miroslava Albiter, Caitlin Morlett, Renee Ma, Jaquelin Trujillo, and Zirui(Ray)

Have you ever heard your friend or family speak two languages in one phrase? Have you ever spoken two languages in a sentence? We look deeper into how code-switching affects phonological convergence, specifically in Spanish-English bilinguals. A key phonological difference between English and Spanish is the articulation of word-initial voiceless stops such as /p/, /t/, and /k/. Therefore, we specifically analyzed how the Voiced Time Onset (VOT) measures of Spanish-English bilinguals are affected by code-switching between Spanish and English. Sixteen English-Spanish bilinguals were recorded and asked to read aloud the Rainbow passage, a passage with English sentences, Spanish sentences, and code-switched English-Spanish sentences. PRAAT was used to measure the participants’ VOTs to compare the differences to a baseline VOT measure of monolingual English and Spanish speakers (Castañeda Vicente, 1986; Lisker & Abramson, 1964).

After data collection and analysis, we discovered that both VOTs of English and Spanish were lengthened during code-switching, albeit for different reasons. As Spanish VOT extended due to phonological convergence, English VOT also unexpectedly extended. We observed evidence for hyper-articulation, which can further explain our conclusion. However, limitations are reckoned with, and thus, fields of phonological change within code-switched contexts are explored.

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Introduction and Background

In this article, we investigated code-switching in English-Spanish bilingual college students, focusing on their phonological change along with the process of code-switching through Voice Onset Time. Code-switching “is a practice common among bilinguals whereby speakers use both languages in a single utterance” (Balukas & Koops, 2015). We will analyze whether English-Spanish bilingual college students demonstrate phonological convergence of VOT in code-switching sentences. The age range of the 16 tested participants varies, with 14 being 20 years old and the other two between 40 and 50 years old. After collecting data, we examined the Voice Onset Time (VOT) in different circumstances and the subsequent phonological convergence in English-Spanish code-switched sentences.

According to previous research, English monolingual speakers typically produce a longer VOT of word-initial voiceless stops than Spanish monolingual speakers (Balukas & Koops, 2015). Samples from bilingual participants were collected and analyzed using Praat, with a particular focus on VOT changes and the evidence of subsequent phonological convergence. As such, we are investigating a potential phenomenon wherein the English VOT is observed to shorten while the Spanish VOT lengthens in English-Spanish code-switched sentences. This dynamic interaction may be further interpreted as evidence of phonological convergence, reflecting an underlying adjustment mechanism within bilingual speech production systems. Due to the lack of ready access to true monolingual speakers in the LA area, we will use data from the BYU Scholars Archive to compare the VOT of our bilingual speakers to the average VOT for /p/, /t/, and /k/ in both English and Spanish. In the BYU Scholars Archive, the Spanish baseline was recorded at the University of Barcelona in 1986 and was taken from 10 monolingual Spanish speakers (Castañeda Vicente, 1986). The English baseline in the archive was recorded at the University of Pennsylvania in 1964 based on 4 American monolingual English speakers (Lisker & Abramson, 1964).

Figure 1 – Chart from BYU Scholars Archive showing the average VOT is ms for English bilinguals and Spanish bilinguals

Phonological properties, including VOTs, can be differentiated across various dialects, even within the same language. In this research, our participants predominantly speak LAVS (Los Angeles Vernacular Spanish), while three speak the Castellano dialect.

In this study, we will investigate whether code-switching influences VOT in English-Spanish bilingual speakers. Testing the specific phonological changes in VOTs in English and Spanish during code-switching. It finally aims to detect the phonological convergence during code-switching in English-Spanish bilinguals. Our hypotheses of VOT and phonological convergence are as follows:

  1. English-Spanish bilingual speakers will shorten English VOT and lengthen Spanish VOT compared to true monolingual speakers of each respective language.
  2. If the speaker’s L1 is English and their L2 is Spanish, we expect the VOT for Spanish /p/, /t/, and /k/ to be longer than Spanish monolingual speakers. We also expect their English VOT for /p/, /t/, and /k/ to reflect the VOT of monolingual English speakers.
  3. If the speaker’s L1 is Spanish and their L2 is English, we expect the VOT for English /p/, /t/, and /k/ to be shorter than English monolingual speakers. We would also expect their Spanish VOT for /p/, /t/, and /k/ to reflect the VOT of monolingual Spanish speakers.

If a participant has been discouraged from speaking Spanglish, they will be more likely to have longer VOT in Spanish despite differences in their L1 or L2.

To clarify related concepts, VOT is “the temporal relationship between laryngeal pulsing and the onset of consonant release” (Molfese & Narter, 1997). Phonological convergence, on the other hand, refers to the process by which speakers in a communicative interaction adjust their phonological patterns—such as pronunciation, intonation, or rhythm—towards one another. A key phonological distinction between English and Spanish arises primarily in articulating word-initial voiceless stops, namely /p/, /t/, and /k/. Positive VOT, or aspiration, is characterized by a puff of air following the release of the stop.

A phonological rule of English specifies that word-initial voiceless stops are aspirated or have a positive VOT. Word-initial voiceless stops in Spanish are typically not aspirated or aspirated, much less than English word-initial voiceless stops (Piccinini & Arvaniti, 2015). We will explore Voice Onset Time in code-switching contexts. Code-switching “is a practice common among bilinguals whereby speakers use both languages in a single utterance” (Balukas & Koops, 2015). We will analyze whether English-Spanish bilingual college students demonstrate phonological convergence of VOT in code-switching sentences.

Methods

We will first have all participants complete the demographic and self-report questionnaire about their linguistic background. The questionnaire will include information about their L1 and L2, how often they code-switch, their proficiency in speaking and reading both languages and if they speak any other languages. Lastly, we will include sociocultural questions about their language use, including how positively or negatively they feel about speaking Spanglish and if they have ever been discouraged from speaking Spanglish.

The participants will read “The Rainbow Passage,” a context that includes a mix of English-only sentences, Spanish-only sentences, and sentences that switch from English to Spanish or Spanish to English. We will account for individual idiosyncrasies while striving to derive principles that are as generalizable as possible. The participants will read the following paragraph adapted from the Rainbow Passage with pre-written code-switched sentences:

When the kind sunlight strikes cold raindrops in the air, they act as a prism and form a rainbow. El arcoiris divide la luz blanca en muchos colores hermosos. Estos toman la forma de un arco tan largo, with its path high above, and its two ends apparently beyond the horizon. There is, according to legend, a boiling pot of gold at one end. People look, pero nadie lo encuentra. Cuando un hombre busca algo más allá de su alcance, sus amigos pueden decir que está buscando la olla de oro al final del arcoíris. Throughout the centuries, people have explained the rainbow in various ways. A recording device will be used to record samples of participants using Praat to measure the phonetic output of the individuals and the length of VOT across all conditions. The English words from the Rainbow Passage that we will analyze include kind, cold, two, to, pot, and people. The Spanish words from the Rainbow Passage that we will be analyzing include colores, toman, tan, pero, cuando, and pueden.

Results and Analysis

Several group members contacted qualified bilingual participants and provided access to the prerequisite questionnaire. After collecting basic information about their first language acquisition (FLA) and second language acquisition (SLA) or second language learning (SLL), we distributed the altered Rainbow Passage to participants, ensuring that the recordings of their utterances were clear and suitable for further analysis. We then reviewed all recordings for quality and completeness before forwarding them to those responsible for data analysis. Audio recordings were collected and analyzed using Praat to find the VOT length. The data collected using Praat for each of the 16 participants is grouped into different categories in order to test the following hypotheses.

  1. Average bilingual /p/, /t/, /k/ VOT compared to monolingual /p/, /t/, /k/ VOT (BYU)
  2. Group English L1 speakers /p/, /t/, /k/ VOT and compare to Spanish L1 speakers /p/, /t/, /k/ VOT
  3. The average /p/, /t/, and /k/ VOT for both languages was based on whether or not they were discouraged from speaking Spanglish.

Based on our data grouping, we discovered that our first hypothesis was false because the English VOT mean values for all 16 of our participants (/p/ 85 ms) (/t/ 75 ms) (/k/ 86 ms) were longer than our baseline measurements. Our Spanish voiceless stop mean values based on 16 participants (/p/ 22 ms) (/t/ 75 ms) (/k/ 27 ms) had a /p/ and /t/ value that was longer than the baseline measures, but the /k/ mean was similar to the baseline data.

Figures 2 and 3—The graph shows the mean VOT in milliseconds for all 16 participants. Figure 2 displays the English VOT values for /p/ (blue), /t/ (red), and /k/ (yellow). Figure 3 shows the Spanish VOT values for /p/ (blue), /t/ (red), and /k/ (yellow). 

We found our second hypothesis partially correct because our Spanish VOT was longer than the baseline data, but our English VOT was also longer than the English baseline. Our English L1 Spanish Voiceless mean VOT values (/p/ 28 ms) (/t/ 22 ms) (/k/ 72 ms) were longer than the VOT baseline data collected from Spanish monolinguals. Our English L1 English mean VOT values were similarly longer than those of English monolingual speakers in the baseline data.

Figures 4 and 5 – The graph shows the mean VOT in milliseconds for all participants with English as their first language. Figure 4 shows the English VOT values for /p/ (blue), /t/ (red), and /k/ (yellow). Figure 5 shows the Spanish VOT values for /p/ (blue), /t/ (red), and /k/ (yellow).

We discovered that our Spanish VOT was longer than our baseline for the /k/ voiceless stop, partially supporting our third hypothesis. Our Spanish L1 English mean VOT (/p/ 51 ms), (/t/ 63 ms), (/k/ 72 ms) was shorter than our baseline, as expected. When we looked at our Spanish L1 Spanish, mean VOT (/p/ 18 ms), (/t/ 18 ms), and (/k/ 27 ms), we discovered that the /p/ and /t/ mean VOT values were longer than the baseline, while the /k/ mean VOT value was identical to the baseline value.

Figures 6 and 7 – The graph shows the English VOT values for /p/ (blue), /t/ (red), and /k/ (yellow). Figures 6 and 7 show the mean VOT in milliseconds for all participants whose first language was Spanish. The Spanish VOT values for /p/ (blue), /t/ (red), and /k/ (yellow) are shown in Figure 6.

Since the participants who were discouraged from speaking Spanish had a lower VOT than those who were encouraged to speak Spanish, our fourth hypothesis was false. In comparison to our encouraged Spanish mean VOT, which is (/p/ 24 ms) (/t/ 24 ms) (/k/ 28 ms), our discouraged Spanish mean VOT was (/p/ 18 ms) (/t/ 18 ms) (/k/ 28 ms).

Figures 8 and 9—The graph shows the average VOT in milliseconds for each of the 16 participants according to whether they had been encouraged to speak Spanglish. The mean VOT in ms for the /p/, /t/, and /k/ values for the participants who received encouragement is displayed in Figure 8. The mean VOT in ms for the discouraged participants’/p/, /t/, and /k/ values are displayed in Figure 9.

Figures 10 and 11 – Both are screenshots of the Praat spectrograms of one of our participants. The VOT of the participant who produced the [t] in the word “toman” is displayed in red in Figure 10 (left). The VOT of the participant who produced the [tʰ] in the word “to” is displayed in red in Figure 11 (right). Speaking Spanglish has been discouraged for this individual, whose first language is Spanish.

Figures 12 and 13 –  Both are screenshots of the Praat spectrograms of one of our participants. The VOT of the participant who produced the [p] in the word “pero” is displayed in red in Figure 12 (left). The VOT of the participant who produced the [pʰ] in the word “people” is displayed in red in Figure 13 (right). Speaking Spanglish has been discouraged for this individual, whose first language is Spanish.

Figures 14 and 15 –  Both are screenshots of the Praat spectrograms of one of our participants. The VOT of the person who produced the [k] in the word “colores” is displayed in red in Figure 14 (left). The VOT of the person who produced the [kʰ] in the word “kind” is displayed in red in Figure 15 (right). Speaking Spanglish has been discouraged for this individual, whose first language is Spanish.

Discussion and Conclusion

This research aims to contribute to understanding phonetic changes during code-switching, focusing on the syllables /p/, /t/, and /k/. The findings indicate that, in addition to phonological changes influenced by language-specific properties, hyper-articulation during the experimental process can also impact the results. Notably, the VOTs of both English and Spanish were lengthened, albeit for different reasons. While previous studies suggested that English VOT should remain stable, the observed lengthening may be attributed to hyper-articulation. This phenomenon occurs when participants consciously articulate more clearly to facilitate phonetic analysis, particularly when instructed to produce distinct utterances for experimental recording. The results aligned with some of our hypotheses, though some biases were observed. Further analysis is required to identify academically sound explanations for these findings.

Due to the difference in language properties, the Spanish VOT is lengthened as predicted. Spanish generally exhibits shorter VOT than English. During code-switching between English and Spanish, the VOT of Spanish syllables was observed to be longer than that of monolingual Spanish speakers, suggesting the occurrence of phonological convergence. However, the lengthened English VOT needed to be accounted for in the hypotheses regarding phonological convergence, necessitating further exploration for alternative explanations.

Based on one of our references (Kasia Muldner,2017), English VOT during code-switching is nearly identical to monolingual speakers, which can be attributed to differences in language-specific characteristics. Consequently, English undergoes minimal phonological changes during code-switching. Our hypotheses align with previous studies, suggesting that despite minor variations, English VOT remains nearly identical to that of monolingual English speakers. However, this experiment’s data showed opposite conclusions, forging us to discover more reliable explanations.

Overall, all VOT measures, except for the Spanish /k/, did not reflect our true monolingual English and Spanish speakers. Baseline data demonstrated an increase in VOT data as the place of articulation was placed further back in the vocal cavity. The /p/ VOT was the shortest, next was /t/ VOT, and the longest was the /k/ VOT in both English and Spanish. Our participants produced a similar VOT for all the English stops (around 80 ms) and all Spanish stops (around 23 ms) These findings suggest that bilingual speakers may default to one length of VOT regardless of the place of articulation, whereas monolingual speakers produce a different VOT length for each stop consonant. Despite previous research, this provides evidence that bilinguals differ in VOT production from monolinguals. 

Another interesting finding was hyper-articulation in our sample, which was characterized by more distinct and easily recognizable pronunciations. This phenomenon is hypothesized to have occurred because participants were instructed to produce clear recordings for subsequent analysis using professional phonetic tools (PRAAT), inadvertently creating a more demanding articulatory environment. Moreover, when comparing English in code-switched contexts with that of monolingual speakers, it is important to consider the inherent variations within English itself. Due to its diverse dialects and accents and a long history of linguistic contact, the definition of  ‘standard’ English is ambiguous. This suggests that the participants in our study may have exhibited different English accents from the outset, potentially influencing the results of our experiment.

Our study encountered a few limitations that affected the study’s results. Firstly, it is a vital variation given that our demographic was relatively small (16 people, with 14 college students), which may produce bias. Furthermore, all of them are self-reported bilinguals, even though with a linguistic background questionnaire, the clarification of “bilingual” remained unclear and contained various things. Our linguistic background questionnaire cannot showcase the diversity and dynamic of bilinguals panoramically and thus may ignore some related variations in code-switching. Secondly, though being collected and quantitatively analyzed, the data per se remained unclear in its accuracy in spontaneous code-switching in natural utterances. Taken together, this research contributes to the research looking into the relationship between code-switching and phonological convergence in Spanish-English bilinguals. The observed VOT lengthening during code-switching contexts suggests a dynamic interaction between languages where bilingual transfer does not have a bidirectional relationship. Bilingual speakers may also adjust their articulation based on the contextual demands of the linguistic environment. Future studies could further explore the implications of phonological transfer and its potential effects on language production in bilinguals.

Appendix I: Linguistic background questionnaire[1] [2] 

(1)  Is English your L1 or L2?

(2) Is Spanish your L1 or L2?

(3) Can you read and speak Spanish?

(4) Can you read and speak English?

(5) Do you speak any other language other than English and Spanish?

(if yes, which languages?)

(6) On a scale from 1-10, how often would you say you code-switch between English and Spanish? (Code-switching is the act of alternating between two or more languages or dialects within a conversation or phrase.)

(7) How positively or negatively do you feel about speaking Spanglish?

(8) Have you ever felt discouraged from speaking Spanglish?

  • yes
  • no

Appendix II: The Rainbow Passage in English and Spanish

When the kind sunlight strikes cold raindrops in the air, they act as a prism and form a rainbow. El arcoiris divide la luz blanca en muchos colores hermosos. Estos toman la forma de un arco tan largo, with its path high above and its two ends apparently beyond the horizon. There is, according to legend, a boiling pot of gold at one end. People look, pero nadie lo encuentra. Cuando un hombre busca algo más allá de su alcance, sus amigos pueden decir que está buscando la olla de oro al final del arcoíris. Throughout the centuries, people have explained the rainbow in various ways.

References:

Balukas, C., & Koops, C. (2015). Spanish-English bilingual voice onset time in spontaneous code-switching. International Journal of Bilingualism, 19(4), 423-443. https://doi.org/10.1177/1367006913516035

Banov, I. K. (2014, December 1). The production of voice onset time in voiceless stops by … BYU ScholarsArchive. https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=5339&context=etd

Castañeda Vicente, M. L. (1986). El V.O.T de las oclusivas sordas y sonoras españolas. Estudios de fonética experimental, 2, 91-110.

Kasia Muldner, Leah Hoiting, Leyna Sanger, Lev Blumenfeld and Ida Toivonen.The phonetics of code-switched vowels, Carleton University, Canada https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/1367006917709093

Lisker, L., & Abramson, A. S. (1964). A Cross-Language Study of Voicing in Initial Stops: Acoustical Measurements. WORD, 20(3), 384–422. https://doi.org/10.1080/00437956.1964.11659830

Ojeda, Adriana, Ana De Prada Pérez, and Ratree Wayland. Heritage Speakers and their Language Use: A Phonetic Approach to Code-Switching. University of Florida.

Olson, D. J. (2016). The role of code-switching and language context in bilingual phonetic transfer. Journal of the International Phonetic Association, 46(3), 263–285. https://www.jstor.org/stable/26352311

Piccinini, P., & Arvaniti, A. (2015). Voice onset time in Spanish–English spontaneous code-switching. Journal of Phonetics, 52(Sep), 121–137. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.wocn.2015.07.004 Voice onset time. (n.d.). ScienceDirect. Retrieved November 18, 2024, from https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/biochemistry-genetics-and-molecular-biology/voice-onset-time

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Expressing Anger in Japanese and English Bilinguals

Kevin Kim, Shoichiro Kamata, Karin Yamaoka, Raine Torres, Max Fawzi

Japanese is often erroneously considered a “swearless language”, but anyone who has ever been yelled ‘しね’ (meaning ‘to die’) will confidently tell you that like all languages, Japanese has diverse ways of encoding abusive language. In Japanese ‘しね’ only becomes abusive language when in the context of being an insult, but in everyday situations the word simply means ‘to die’ without any connotation of insult. English differs from Japanese by having explicit profanities that carry a vulgar meaning independent of its usage context or syntactic environment. We conducted the following research to discover the discrepancy of semantic typology between Japanese and English profanities or abusive language, and if bilingual speakers endow varying emotional intensity to English profane lexica compared to Japanese abusive language. Our study shows that L1 Japanese L2 English bilinguals view English profanities as less offensive than their L1 English counterparts, report using these English profanities more frequently, and view the equivalent Japanese abusive language as more offensive.

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Introduction and Background

Languages differ significantly in how they encode and express emotions, particularly when it comes to the use of profanity as a means to express anger (for example in the context of an argument). This study examines profanities as a distinct subset of lexicon characterized by inherently vulgar or aggressive meanings, distinguishing them from other words or expressions that acquire such connotations only through context. In other words, in this paper, profanities refer to lexically explicit terms such as ‘fuck’ in English, that convey hostility or vulgarity without the necessity for context, and argue that Japanese lacks such a distinct subset, since words like  ‘しね’ (meaning ‘to die’) can convey aggression or intensity, but lack the explicit vulgarity found in English profanities. This study thus examines and defines profanities as vulgar lexica (found often in English) where its vulgarity is unaffected by its syntactic environment or context; distinguishing them from abusive expressions that only acquire offensive undertones within specific contexts (found often in Japanese). More specifically, Japanese speakers use “various markers of register rather than the explicit deployment of dysphemistic lexical items or expressions” (Jackson & Kennet 2021,1), where connotation of abuse is only endowed through syntactic and environmental inferences (context in which it is being used) even though there can be contextually impolite vocabulary derived from anatomical, excretory, and sexual sources like in English (Hoshino 1971, 31). We will refer to the vulgar and aggressive lexica of English as ‘profanities’ whereas ‘abusive language’ will be used for their Japanese counterpart lexica.

We argue that current studies on Japanese do not accurately reflect empirical use of abusive languages by native speakers. Medias (e.g. anime) that use more performative language tends to distort the perception of how Japanese speakers use language as media lexicons are often unreflective of native speakers’ lexicons. Through this study, we aim to focus on what native speakers consider to be consistently employed in their everyday language.

With our definition of profanities, it assumes a discrepancy of linguistic equivalence between English profanities and Japanese abusive language in its aggressiveness in its use. Therefore, it raises a question; How do Japanese L1 and English L2 speakers juggle the two discrepant lexical categories of ‘profanities’ and ‘abusive language’ and navigate through the lack of equivalence as a bilingual?

We aim to gain an understanding of the cognitive processes that occur for bilingual speakers, when conceptualizing constructs that are not lexically represented in their L1 and discrepancies in linguistic equivalence.

A research by Dewaele (2016) offers a valuable insight into self-reported perception of English swear words by L2 English speakers. The findings show that English LX users (non-native English speakers) over-estimate the offensiveness of most negative emotion-laden words, and avoid using most offensive emotion-laden words. On the other hand, a relevant study by Gawinkowska et al. (2013) found that bilingual speakers are more hesitant to use strong expletives in their L1 than in their L2, likely because they feel less bound by normative influences when speaking in their L2. As such, existing research has presented conflicting results, adding layers of complexity to bilingualism and emotional perception of abusive language in L2 languages.

We expect cultural aspects to play a role in the perception as well; Japanese cultural norms generally discourage direct expressions of intense emotion. One way this manifests is through face, as in outward appearances. Lin & Yamaguchi (2011) state that Japanese culture places greater importance on saving face, as face in collectivist cultures is concerned with an individual’s position in the social hierarchy rather than personal achievement like in individualistic cultures; there is also a tendency to avoid conflict and maintain interpersonal harmony in collectivist cultures. By directly expressing strong emotions, one would lose face in Japanese society and thus there is a social pressure against directly expressing intense emotion. Synthesizing the relevant studies and Japanese cultural aspect, we hypothesize that L1 Japanese speakers will perceive English profanities as being less emotionally charged than their L1 English counterparts. We can also expect L1 Japanese speakers to rate Japanese abusive language roughly the same as their English profanity counterparts or as less offensive overall.

Methods

2.1 Participants

The population of our study is L1 Japanese L2 English speakers, with our control group being L1 English speakers having no knowledge of Japanese. L1 Japanese L2 English bilingual participants are Japanese nationals who did not grow up speaking English at home; their English proficiency were established in the demographic section of the survey including questions regarding their language background. Furthermore, all participants are current college students for ease of recruitment and consistency, putting the age range between 18-28 years old, an age group which likely has the same general vocabulary and therefore slang/profanities, allowing for more homogenous data.

2.3 Design

The survey method was chosen to measure perceptions of both Japanese abusive language and English profanity. It consisted of two phases, where phase 1 focuses on the translation and interpretation of English profanities, and phase 2 focuses on the emotional charge and frequency of use of profanities.

2.3.1 Phase 1

Japanese media often, for performative effect, distorts how abusive language is used; this however does not reflect how native speakers use abusive language. We thus established a list of 10 Japanese abusive expressions with our own English translations, and asked a group of L1 Japanese L2 English speakers (N1 = 14, 7 male, 7 female) to translate the predetermined English words into Japanese. The results became a basis for the subsequent phase and also a tool to identify abusive lexica that native speakers (18~28) actually use.

2.3.2 Phase 2

A separate survey was sent to both our control group (N2 = 16, 8 male, 8 female) and to our experimental group (N3= 13, 3 male, 10 female). The survey asked participants to rate on a 5-point scale (1 = very low, 5 = very high) with regards to a given abusive expression/profanity (1) how well they understand the meaning, (2) how offensive/emotionally charged it is, and (3) how frequently they use it. The control group of L1 English speakers rated solely English profanities, while our experimental group rated both English profanities and Japanese abusive language.

2.4 Manipulation            

To standardize the implied usage context of the profanities (as emotional intensity could be influenced by the varying situations that participants imagine its usage to be), every survey were presented with a GIF of two men arguing, to standardize the perception that the profanities/abusive language in question are used by a person demonstrating anger. Moreover, phase 2 had two versions of the same survey, where Version 1 asked participants to rate English profanities first and of Japanese abusive language second, and vice versa. This was done in hopes of mitigating anchoring effects or priming effects that could bias our findings.

Figure 1: GIF presented to participants during phase 2 survey 

Results and Analysis

3.1 Phase 1 Results

This phase primarily served to establish the abusive language in Japanese that reflected the actual terms used by native speakers. A key finding was in regards to the perception of “shit” and “fuck”: L1 Japanese speakers tend to view “shit” and “fuck” as synonymous when translated into Japanese. Approximately 86% of respondents translated both “shit” and “fuck” as 「クソ」(kuso). This pattern likely reflects the absence of a direct Japanese equivalent for the word “fuck.” Instead, respondents opted for 「クソ」(kuso), which semantically corresponds more closely to “shit” as it denotes fecal matter. This semantic overlap highlights a gap in linguistic equivalence, influencing the way these terms are interpreted and used in the context of L1 Japanese speakers.   

Another key finding was that the translations for “dumbass” and “moron” were predominantly split between two responses: 「バカ」(baka) and 「あほ」(aho). Slightly more respondents translated “dumbass” as 「バカ」(baka), while “moron” was slightly more frequently translated as 「あほ」(aho). For the subsequent phase of the study, we selected the more commonly chosen translation for each term, though the differences were minimal. This suggests that, for Japanese speakers, profanities targeting intellectual levels exhibit limited variability in their translations, possibly reflecting a convergence in semantic interpretation.

The patterns presented were indicative of the nuanced ways in which abusive language is conceptualized and translated by L1 Japanese speakers. Specifically, the findings highlight the challenges of mapping English profanities to Japanese equivalents due to cultural and linguistic differences.

3.2 Phase 2 Results

Quantitative analysis of phase 2 reveals that on average L1 Japanese bilinguals view English profanities as 0.73 less offensive on the 5 point scale than L1 English speakers, with our experimental group rating the 10 English profanities as an average of 2.73, and the control group rating them as 3.45. The largest differences were found in “Ugly Bitch” (difference of 1.76) and the more commonly used “Fuck you” (difference of 1.42), which reflects a significantly different attitude towards even more common swearwords. Our experimental group also viewed the two most commonly used profanities “Shut Up” and “Fuck” as more offensive, with small differentials of 0.47 and 0.33 respectively. Our experimental group however, also rated the selected 9 Japanese translations at an average of 3.70 on the offensiveness scale (i.e. 0.25 higher than the English profanities), with the most offensive being 死ね, equivalent of “Fuck you” with a rating of 4.69 on the offensiveness scale.

Figure 2: Summary of the offensiveness of English profanities and equivalent Japanese abusive language

When it comes to frequency of usage, L1 Japanese bilinguals also reported using the English profanities at a higher frequency, with self-reported frequency being 0.87 points higher than their L1 English counterparts. This was the case for almost all English profanities across the board with the exceptions of “Fuck” and “Ugly Bitch” which had near equal usage; the largest differentials were found in “Moron” (difference of 1.48) and “Dumbass” (difference of 1.35). Interestingly, L1 Japanese speakers reported a rather low frequency of usage for the counterpart Japanese abusive language, with an average of 1.85 on the 5 point frequency scale. The most frequently used one being 「バカ」equivalent to “Dumbass” at 3.08, followed farther behind by 「クソ」 equivalent to “Fuck” at 2.38. This reflects the less frequent use of abusive language in Japanese compared to English which uses profanities more freely. This also corroborates the higher offensiveness of Japanese abusive language, which is used more infrequently and thus packs more of a punch.

Figure 3: Summary of the self-reported frequency of usage of English profanities and equivalent Japanese abusive language

Discussion and Conclusion

4.1 Phase 1 Discussion

In Phase 1, we found that L1 Japanese speakers used the same word 「くそ”」 (kuso) as an approximation for both “shit” and “fuck”. While this was not something that we had initially hypothesized, our findings in Phase 1 supported the idea that the Japanese language has less explicit profanities as previously found in research such as Jackson & Kennet (2021), highlighting the semantic overlap in the translation of “shit” and “fuck”, which underscores the limited availability of distinct Japanese terms that capture the unique connotations of these words in English. Similarly, the minimal variability in the translation of “dumbass” and “moron” suggests that Japanese speakers may perceive insults related to intellectual capability as largely interchangeable, pointing to a possible variability from L1 English speakers in how such terms are employed and understood.

4.2 Phase 2 Discussion

In Phase 2, we found that L1 Japanese speakers viewed English profanities as less offensive than L1 English speakers in all but two instances (“Shut Up” and “Fuck”). This aligned with our hypothesis that L1 Japanese speakers would perceive English profanities as being less emotionally charged. However, this contrasted with the findings of the Dewaele (2016) study which found that non-native English speakers would overestimate the offensiveness of English profanities and avoid using them. Our findings, instead, seemed to align more with Gawinkowska et. al (2013) which found that bilingual speakers were actually more inclined to use strong expletives in their L2 because they felt less bound by the norms of their L1. In our study, we saw evidence of this from the higher rates of usage for English profanities by L2 Japanese speakers than L1 English speakers. Japanese L1 speakers also rated the Japanese approximations of English swear words as being higher in offensiveness than the English swear words themselves. In the midst of conflicting research, we found that our findings followed similar patterns to Gawinkowska et. al. This may be due to the deeply ingrained collectivist cultural norms and emphasis on face-saving that exists in Japanese culture (Lin & Yamaguchi 2011) that may make L1 Japanese speakers more sensitive to abusive language in their native tongue.

4.3 Overall Discussion

This study offers some insight into the perceptions of emotional words in an L2. In our case, this refers to the use of profanities that are explicit without context for speakers who are familiar with abusive language that require context to be abusive. Research that helps understand these experiences will hopefully contribute to a wider understanding of interpersonal connection by identifying the ways language can cause miscommunications due to differences in culture as well as the language itself. Interestingly, additional observations suggest that non-English speakers often react with surprise or discomfort when exposed to the meaning of English profanities. In a street interview conducted by Asian Boss (LINK), Japanese people shared that they find such language uncomfortable and showed that abusive words are rarely used in Japanese culture. This observation also occurs among English speakers with Japanese people. According to the discussion in the Podcast “Hapa 英会話 Podcast – 第305回「汚い言葉遣い」”(LINK) , some English speakers try not to use the profanity with Japanese people even when they are talking each other in English. This similarity shows that hesitation from using profanity comes from the differences across cultural backgrounds regarding when it is appropriate to use profane language, which gives insight to the experiences of Second Language Learners as they navigate unfamiliar territories. These reactions further emphasize the cultural and linguistic differences in how profanities are perceived and used between English and Japanese speakers.

While our research was limited to only include college-aged students, future research would ideally expand the scope to include a variety of ages and educational backgrounds. Future research could also compare our findings with Japanese L1 speakers to another L1 language with contrasting conventions of abusive language.

References

Dewaele, J.-M. (2016). Thirty shades of offensiveness: L1 and LX English users’ understanding, perception and self-reported use of negative emotion-laden words. Journal of Pragmatics, 94, 112–127. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pragma.2016.01.009 

Gawinkowska, M., Paradowski, M. B., & Bilewicz, M. (2013). Second language as an exemptor from sociocultural norms: Emotion related language choice revisited. PLOS ONE, 8(12), e81225. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0081225

Hoshino,  Akira  (1971). Akutai  mokutai  kō  –  akutai  no  shosō  to  kinō. [Thoughts  on  Abusive  Language.  Aspects of Abusive Language and its Functions]. Kikan jinruigaku  2(3): 29– 52.

Jackson, L., & Kennett, B. (2021). Slang and taboo language: An analysis of swearing guides for L2 Japanese learners. Electronic Journal of Contemporary Japanese Studies, 21(2). Retrieved from https://japanesestudies.org.uk/ejcjs/vol21/iss2/jackson_kennett.html

Lin, C.-C., & Yamaguchi, S. (2011). Effects of face experience on emotions and self-esteem in Japanese culture. European Journal of Social Psychology, 41(4), 446–455. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.817

Relevant Info: Hapa 英会話 Podcast. (2020).  第305回「汚い言葉遣い」[Podcast]. Retrieved from https://podcasts.apple.com/jp/podcast/hapa%E8%8B%B1%E4%BC%9A%E8%A9%B1-podcast/id814040014?i=1000491739815  Asian Boss. (2018). Japanese React to English Swear Words [YouTube video]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHpw5p8qCrI&t=61s

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