But somehow, the chaos seemed to slow around me, like watching a film reel unspool in slow motion. To my left, I spotted Dave Burmaster, shutting his locker as he prepared to head to his next class. His jet-black, spiky hair pointed defiantly toward the ceiling, matching his sharp, angular face and pointed chin. A few silver earrings glinted as he moved, and his outfit a long black coat draping over heavy boots marked him as a New Wave devotee, his fashion a testament to the music that defined him.
I could almost hear The Cure’s Fascination Street playing in his mind. I shared his love for the music, though my look was far less bold. To my right was my friend Damian Quansah. I’d just finished physics and was on my way to English; our usual post-class chat would have to wait.
But as our eyes met, his risorius muscle pulled into a warm, knowing smile. We raised our fists instinctively, tapping in a silent, unmistakable exchange: “See you later, my friend.” No words passed, yet the message was clear. In that moment, I couldn’t help but wonder how the English language even began words add so much, but there’s magic in the unspoken too.
The English language began over a thousand years ago as a blend of dialects from tribes like the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes who migrated to Britain in the fifth century. Their languages mixed with local Celtic, forming Old English.
The Norman Conquest of 1066 brought Norman French, reshaping English and marking the start of Middle English. Latin, used by clergy, and Old Norse, from Viking influence, also left their marks. Over time, English evolved through cultural exchange, Shakespeare’s creativity, and global expansion, becoming a rich montage of its history and a testament to centuries of transformation. Speaking of Shakespeare, we were now deep into Hamlet in English class. I’d read many of his works, each one brimming with unforgettable tales and timeless themes. Shakespeare conjured dashing kings in resplendent robes, pondering betrayal within their own bloodlines, igniting a fierce thirst for revenge.
I turned each page, captivated by the language, oblivious to time. There’s something irresistible about adventure, and here, in these pages, it flourished. Beyond the stories, I savoured the Shakespearean English itself its elegance, its old-world charm. Reading it aloud, I felt transported to an era of kingdoms, gallant knights, fair maidens, and loyal friends named Polonius.
English today is a vibrant, ever-evolving mix of words and styles, shaped by Gen Z’s creativity and the rapid flow of online culture. It’s a language where “lit” can mean exciting, “vibe check” is a measure of someone’s energy, and “low-key” adds a hint of understatement to just about anything. Social media has brought phrases like “ghosting,” “spill the tea,” and “main character energy” into daily life, adding layers of meaning and irony.
English now reflects both individuality and a collective culture, with each generation moulding it into something fresh, flexible, and unapologetically their own. Collins Dictionary recently announced its word of the year.
One might expect a refined choice, like “perspicacious” a word meaning insightful or perceptive. Instead, the winner is “brat,” a term defining someone with a bold, independent, and indulgent attitude, perfectly suited to today’s social media-driven culture. British pop star Charli XCX sparked its rise to fame, naming her hit album Brat and turning the term into a global aesthetic and lifestyle. According to Charli XCX, a “brat” is “that girl who’s a little messy, loves to party, and might say some silly things.”
Other contenders included “delulu” (being wildly unrealistic) and “looksmaxxing” (maximising one’s appearance). The Nobel committee probably won’t be calling, but “brat” seems to have found its moment. The vibe of “brat” seems to be everywhere even in the presidential campaign of Kamala Harris. Charli XCX herself declared, “Kamala is brat,” yet somehow, Harris lost to Donald Trump. As the world speeds forward with evolving language and tech, I can’t help but feel nostalgic for simpler days. I’m transported back to Mr William Bell’s high school English class, where we unpacked Northrop Frye’s The Educated Imagination. Frye’s writing masterfully plays with the English language, his words so layered they beg for a second read to catch every nuance. And if that’s not brat, then I must be totally delulu.
