Famous Last Words
An image of a page with the words “Famous Last Words.”
Editor’s note: This paper was originally written for a college communications class. Like everything else I write, it’s grown with me. It’s shaped by time, perspective, and a willingness to revisit what I once thought I knew.
Welcome back, seekers of stories and keepers of curiosity. Last week, I shared my early impressions from Birth and Death: The Life of Languages. Today, I’m bringing you the final paper from that assignment. This is part of my Past, Present, and Future series, where I revisit old work, reflect on how my thinking has shifted, and explore what I still hope to learn.
Next week will wrap up this series, so stay tuned. For now, grab a snack, settle in, and let’s dive in.
The documentary highlighted three main themes that still feel relevant today:
The diversity of languages
The impact of globalization
The creation of new languages
Back then, I agreed with the film’s sentiment that each of these continues to shape language and I still do. But with time, I’ve also started asking deeper questions about what we gain and what we lose in the process.
I’ll walk you through each point, share how it connected to my own life then, and how I see it now. To close, we’ll look at the bigger picture, the life cycle of language itself.
One the topic of diversity, I began by reflecting on cultural mixing here in the United States. The “melting pot” metaphor, as Lustig & Koester describe it, imagines immigrants from many cultures blending into one collective culture that’s “stronger and better” than its individual parts.
At one time, I wrote about friends of different nationalities, some U.S. citizens, others here on work visas, and how many adopted to life in America. They spoke English fluently, kept up with slang words and trends, celebrated American holidays alongside their own, and found ways to blend different worlds together.
On the national level, I looked at how pop culture represents diversity. I used the ABC drama The Fosters as an example. A blended family led by two mothers, one white and one black, raising biological, adopted, and foster children from different racial and cultural backgrounds. The show doesn’t just reflect cultural diversity, it also weave in linguistic diversity, showing how exposure to different ways of speaking can deepen understanding and make intercultural connections more natural.
I want to pause here to share something about myself. For much of my life, I’ve found it hard to put my thoughts and experiences into words. In college, that challenge felt even bigger. Between heavy workloads and high expectations, both from professors and myself, I often felt I was treading water. I’d spend so much energy trying to keep up that I missed out on other experiences I wish I’d had.
Looking back, I realize I was harder on myself than I needed to be. I graduated with both an associate’s and bachelor’s degree, holding a solid B average, yet at the time, I barely stopped to be proud of it. I was too focused on what I thought I was lacking instead of noticing what I was achieving.
When I reread this old paper, I noticed moments where I mentioned things, like a friend’s race or via status, without really explaining why it mattered to the bigger picture. I think I was trying to show diversity, but I didn’t yet have the tools to connect those details to the heart of my point.
If I were writing it today, I’d focus less on labels and more on the relationships themselves of how they shaped my perspective, challenged by assumptions, and gave me glimpses into lives very different from my own. That’s the real value of diversity: not just noticing differences, but learning from them in ways that change you.
Now, I see things differently. Maybe it’s more awareness, or maybe it’s just the distance that time gives you, but I recognize how much my thinking has shifted. I understand now that diversity isn’t just about the mix of cultures, languages, or traditions in a space, it’s about the exchange that happens when people are willing to share themselves openly. It’s about listening long enough to understand, not just long enough to respond. That’s the part I was missing before.
Going forward, I want to keep leaning into that exchange. To keep meeting people from different walks of life and letting those encounters shape me. I hope to stay open enough to learn, not just about the world, but about my own blind spots, too. Because it’s not where we start that matters most, it’s how we keep going, how we keep evolving, and the courage we have to let new perspectives change us.
When I think about the diversity of languages now, after taking Spanish in high school, French in college, and Sign Language for fun, I see that each language has its own culture. It carries a history, from how it began to how it’s spoken today. There’s slang, casual conversation, and formal speech. Even art, music, and sports feel like their own “languages” in a way. Each with rules, expressions, and shared understanding that you need to learn before you can truly follow along. And just like spoken languages, all of them have been shaped, for better or worse, by globalization.
For much of my life, I viewed globalization as mostly positive. It connects people, makes information more accessible, and opens doors for business, travel, and journalism. According to Lustig & Koester, “globalization is the integration of capital, technology, and information across national borders.” In college, I argued that it was especially valuable in fields like business or journalism, where multiple languages and international perspectives are an advantage. I also saw it in the rise of social media with how a few clicks could connect you to someone halfway around the world.
But over time, I’ve come to see its polar opposite side. As globalization spreads, the most dominant languages, like English, became more widespread, while smaller, less “marketable” languages fade. The documentary Birth and Death: The Life of Languages put it into perspective. In the next 100 years, roughly 90% of the world’s languages could disappear. That loss isn’t just about words, it’s the erasure of history, stories, and ways of seeing the world that may never come back.
When I first wrote this paper, I saw globalization mostly through the lens of opportunity. It felt exciting. This idea that we could connect with people from across the world more easily than ever. I linked it to progress in business, journalism, and social media, and I assumed the benefits far outweighed any drawbacks. I didn’t quite understand the quiet cost it could have on language, culture, and identity.
Today, I see globalization as a double-edged sword. Yes, it’s opened doors for connection and exchange, but it’s also quietly closing others. The pressure to prioritize majority languages, especially English, often pushes smaller, local languages aside. Once those languages fade, the culture and worldview they carry fade too. That’s not just a linguistic loss, it’s a loss of perspective, memory, and belonging.
Looking ahead, I hope we can strike a better balance of embracing the benefits of globalization without letting it erase what makes our cultures unique. I’d love to see schools, communities, and families making intentional efforts to preserve their native language alongside global ones. Because more languages we keep alive, the richer and more connected our world becomes.
And that brings me to the third point from the documentary, the creation of new languages. While globalixation has contributed to the fading of many mother tongues, it’s also created space for new forms of communication to form. Some grow out of necessity, others from creativity, and some from the blending of cultures and technologies in ways we couldn’t have imagined a few decades ago.
With an estimated 90% of today’s languages expected to disappear within the next century, it’s hard not to wonder, what will rise in their place? New languages will no doubt emerge, but will they grow quickly enough to keep pace with what’s being lost? Or will they be more like patchwork of filling in the space, but never quite carrying the richness, history, and nuance of the originals?
In the documentary, the spotlight was on oral languages fading from daily use. At the time, I argued that written and digital forms of communication would rise to take their place in our social-media driven world. A belief I still hold. Facebook connects us through updates and shared memories, Instagram through imagery, X through commentary. What I hadn’t fully anticipated was the rise of visual-first platforms like Tiktok, or the way online culture keeps reshaping oral slang at lightning speed. These aren’t just tools anymore, they’re becoming languages of their own.
Then there’s jargon, what Lustig & Koester define as “a set of words or terms shared by those of a common profession or experience.” Jargon is another way entirely new “languages” are born. Spanglish, for example, blends English and Spanish into an ever-shifting rhythm. Even in small, niche groups, words change meaning, new phrases take root, and language evolves to match the shared culture of the people speaking it.
As I mentioned in last week’s post, Esperanto and Kiligon are proof that whether a language is designed to be universal or purely fictional, it always reflects the intenions, creativity, and values of its creator. And as some languages fade, others step forward. The question is, which ones will endure, and which will quietly vanish for good?
When I watched Birth and Death: The Life of Languages and wrote my paper, I was struck by how many languages were predicted to disappear within my lifetime. I had necer considered that globalization, something I’d mostly associated with opportunity and connection, could have such devastating effects on language preservation. I also hadn’t grasped the cultural significance behind constructed languages like Esperanto and Kiligon, or how deeply community support determines whether a language thrives or fades.
Today, I see language loss as one of the most profound cultural losses we can face. Imagine a small island community whose language shrinks to the point where no living person speaks it anymore. It’s not just words that vanish, it’s history, identity, humor, wisdom, and a way of understanding the world. While it’s possible to study and reconstruct a lost language, the process is painstaking and incomplete. Without living speakers, the subtle rhythm, humor, and emotional weight of a language are nearly impossible to recover. And with that loss comes a dimming of the culture itself.
Looking ahead, I hope we keep finding ways to preserve and pass down languages, not just the dominant ones, but those at risk of being forgotten. I believe learning even small amounts of other languages matters. While fluency is challenging (I’ve learned bits of Spanish, French, and Sign Language. And I’m always working to know more), each word we keep in circulation is a thread to connecting us to a larger story. The more languages we hold on to, the more knowledge, history, and ways of thinking we keep alive for future generations.
If this series has taught me anything, it’s that looking back can sharpen how we see the present, and how we imagine the future. Language, like life, is a constant conversation between what came before and what we carry forward. The Past, Present, & Future series has been my way if revisiting old work with fresh eyes, finding new meaning in what I once thought I understood, and allowing my perspective. To keep expanding.
Whether a language is thousands of years old, newly invented, or still finding its voice, it holds more than just communication. It holds a soul of a people. Preserving it isn’t just about saving words. It’s about keeping alive the ways we connect, create, and belong. And that’s a story worth continuing to tell.
As a signature of my blog, I’d like to end this post with a suggestion to “Pass on kindness.” There’s no time like the present to Inspire Those Who Inspire You. Acts of kindness, no matter how big or small, can have a direct, positive impact on someone else. Go out there today and change someone’s life for the better!
***These are my personal opinions and may not be those of my employer.***
