1A: The main message of Ashley Duong's opinion piece is that social media has made young people apathetic news consumers. While social media provides quick and convenient access to headlines, this habit of skimming the surface means that people gain only a superficial understanding of important issues, which discourages genuine engagement and curiosity. However, Duong does not call for abandoning social media entirely; instead, she urges readers to use social media headlines as starting points for deeper exploration.

1B: Duong employs several language features and structural techniques to enhance her message. The text follows a clear problem-solution structure: the first half establishes the problem (apathy caused by surface-level news consumption), while the second half proposes solutions (diving deeper, listening to podcasts, engaging in conversation, and taking action).

A key feature is the use of inclusive pronouns. Duong shifts between "I" and "we" throughout the text, beginning with a personal reflection on her own social media habits before broadening to include the reader by noting that we are not rewarded for being only mildly engaged. This creates a sense of shared responsibility and prevents the text from feeling preachy.

Duong also uses metaphor effectively. She describes how we have set aside the tool we would need to dig deeper, comparing curiosity to a shovel and suggesting that genuine understanding requires effort and excavation beneath the surface. She also reaches for a common idiom about self-inflicted injury to convey how readily we sabotage our own grasp of important issues.

Finally, the text includes rhetorical questions that highlight the contrast between shallow and deep engagement: we can confirm whether we have heard about a story, but we struggle to articulate what we think about it or how it makes us feel. These paired questions force the reader to recognise the gap between awareness and understanding, reinforcing Duong's central argument.

Social media has fundamentally transformed how young people encounter and engage with important topics of debate. The statistics from Pew Research Center in Text B reveal the scale of this shift: nearly a third of 18–29-year-olds now regularly get their news from TikTok, and 43% of all TikTok users turn to the platform for news. These figures suggest that social media is no longer merely a supplement to traditional media – for many young people, it has become their primary window onto the world.

Associate Professor Jess McLean's research in Text C offers a nuanced perspective on why this might not be entirely negative. She argues that TikTok lets young people encounter stories of injustice alongside entertainment in a constructive way. The short format of TikTok videos makes complex issues accessible, allowing teenagers to be exposed to a wide range of viewpoints in a short amount of time. In this sense, social media acts as a gateway, sparking initial awareness of issues that might otherwise never reach young audiences.

However, the illustration in Text A provides a crucial counterpoint. The image of a hand controlling a person through puppet strings attached to their phone serves as a powerful visual metaphor for the manipulation inherent in social media platforms. Algorithms decide what content users see, creating filter bubbles that can reinforce existing beliefs rather than broadening understanding. Being aware of an issue is not the same as understanding it deeply.

In my experience, social media has genuinely raised my awareness of global issues such as climate change and social inequality. However, I have also noticed how easily this awareness can become performative – sharing a post or liking a video can feel like action when it is really just consumption. The challenge for my generation is to use social media as a starting point for deeper engagement, not as a substitute for it.

The Double-Edged Sword of Global English

English is, by almost any measure, the most influential language in the world today. While only about 373 million people speak it as a native language – placing it third behind Chinese and Spanish – an estimated one to one and a half billion people worldwide use English as either a first, second, or foreign language. As the map in Text C illustrates, English serves as a national, primary, or widely spoken language on every inhabited continent, a legacy of British colonialism that has been reinforced and extended by American economic and cultural power. This extraordinary reach brings both significant benefits and serious challenges.

Benefits of English as a Global Language

The most obvious benefit of a shared global language is its role as a facilitator of communication. In a world of approximately 7,000 languages, English functions as a lingua franca – a common tongue that enables people from different linguistic backgrounds to communicate, collaborate, and exchange ideas. This is particularly valuable in fields such as science, technology, diplomacy, and business, where the ability to share knowledge across borders is essential.

Text A highlights the economic dimension of this phenomenon. The six major English-speaking countries – Australia, Canada, Ireland, New Zealand, the UK and the US – together produce 33% of the world's gross domestic product. This economic concentration means that proficiency in English opens doors to international markets, academic research, and professional opportunities. For individuals in non-English-speaking countries, learning English can be a pathway to higher education, better employment, and greater global mobility.

Furthermore, English serves as the dominant language of the internet, popular culture, and academic publishing. Access to English-language resources gives individuals access to vast repositories of knowledge, entertainment, and cultural exchange that might otherwise be unavailable. In this sense, English can be seen as a democratising force, levelling the playing field for those who can access it.

Challenges and Concerns

However, the dominance of English also raises significant challenges, particularly for linguistic diversity and educational outcomes. Text B provides a compelling example from Norway, where the Language Council (Språkrådet) has expressed concern about the overuse of English at Norwegian universities. Ole Våge argues that relying solely on English in higher education is problematic, since most graduates will go on to work in a Norwegian-speaking labour market. This highlights a real tension: while English proficiency is valuable, prioritising it at the expense of the national language can undermine students' ability to develop specialised vocabulary and professional competence in their own language.

Moreover, Våge raises the important point that not all students are equally proficient in English. When entire programmes are taught in English, students who are less confident in the language may struggle to engage fully with the material, potentially disadvantaging them compared to native or near-native English speakers. The supposed benefits of English-medium education may thus be unevenly distributed, reinforcing rather than reducing educational inequality.

On a broader scale, the global dominance of English threatens linguistic diversity. When English becomes the default language of education, media, and professional life, speakers of smaller languages may gradually abandon their mother tongues. This process of linguistic erosion – sometimes called "language death" – represents not just a loss of communication systems but a loss of cultural knowledge, worldviews, and identities embedded in those languages. The world map in Text C, while impressive in showing the reach of English, can also be read as a map of colonial imposition, where English was often introduced through violence and the suppression of indigenous languages.

A Personal Perspective

As a Norwegian student, I experience these tensions firsthand. English has given me access to a world of literature, entertainment, and online communities that would otherwise be closed to me. I read English-language news, watch English-language films, and communicate with people from around the world in English. In many ways, English has expanded my horizons.

At the same time, I recognise that this comes with costs. I sometimes find myself reaching for an English word when I cannot think of the Norwegian equivalent, and I know that my generation speaks a form of Norwegian that is increasingly influenced by English. There is something uncomfortable about the gradual erosion of a language that is spoken by only about five million people, even as I benefit daily from the language that is contributing to that erosion.

Conclusion

The influence of English in the world today is neither wholly positive nor wholly negative – it is a complex phenomenon with real benefits and real costs. The challenge is not to resist English entirely, which would be both impractical and counterproductive, but to find a balance that preserves linguistic diversity while acknowledging the practical value of a shared global language. As the Norwegian example in Text B suggests, this balance requires deliberate policy choices: supporting the use of national languages in education and professional life, while ensuring that English proficiency remains available to those who need it. The goal should be multilingualism, not monolingualism in English.

Scrolling Through the Headlines: Social Media as the New Newsroom

The way young people in the English-speaking world consume news has undergone a dramatic transformation over the past decade. Traditional media – newspapers, television bulletins, and radio broadcasts – are being rapidly supplanted by social media platforms as the primary sources of news for younger demographics. The data provided in Texts A and B paint a clear picture of a generational shift that is reshaping the relationship between citizens and the information they receive about the world around them.

The Scale of the Shift

The statistics are striking. According to Ofcom's research in Text A, Instagram has become the most popular news source among UK teenagers, used by 29% of 12–15-year-olds, closely followed by TikTok (28%) and YouTube (28%). This represents a significant displacement of traditional broadcasters: BBC One and BBC Two, historically the most popular news sources among UK teenagers, have fallen to fifth place, with usage dropping from 45% just five years ago to 24% in 2022. The decline is not marginal – it represents a near-halving of traditional TV news consumption in a remarkably short period.

The American data in Text B confirms that this is not a uniquely British phenomenon. Social media is now the most commonly used news source among US adults who consume news daily, and the generational divide is stark: 45% of 18–34-year-olds use social media for news, compared to just 24% of those over 65, who still overwhelmingly prefer cable news (32%) and newspapers (21%). These figures suggest a fundamental restructuring of the news ecosystem, driven by the digital habits of younger generations.

The Benefits: Accessibility and Diversity

Social media platforms offer several genuine advantages as news providers. They are free, accessible on smartphones, and available around the clock. For young people who may never have subscribed to a newspaper or set aside time to watch an evening news bulletin, social media provides a low-barrier entry point into news consumption. The algorithmic feed, while problematic in many respects, can also introduce users to stories and perspectives they might never have encountered through traditional media.

TikTok, in particular, has developed a distinctive approach to news delivery. Short-form video content, often presented by individual creators rather than professional journalists, can make complex issues more accessible and relatable. A TikTok video explaining a geopolitical crisis in sixty seconds may lack the depth of a newspaper feature, but it may also reach millions of young people who would never have read that feature article.

The Risks: Trust, Depth, and Manipulation

However, the enthusiasm for social media news must be tempered by serious concerns about trust, accuracy, and depth. Text A reveals a significant paradox: despite TikTok's popularity as a news source among UK teenagers, fewer than a third (30%) actually trust the news content they find there. This gap between usage and trust is deeply troubling. It suggests that young people are habitually consuming news from sources they themselves regard as unreliable – a pattern that risks normalising misinformation and eroding critical media literacy.

The trust figures for YouTube and Twitter are somewhat higher (51% and 52% respectively), but these still mean that roughly half of young users do not fully trust the news they receive from these platforms. By contrast, traditional broadcasters like the BBC, while declining in popularity, have historically maintained much higher levels of public trust. The shift from trusted to distrusted news sources represents a significant challenge for democratic society, which depends on an informed citizenry.

Furthermore, social media news tends to prioritise engagement over accuracy. Algorithms are designed to keep users scrolling, not to ensure they are well-informed. Sensational, emotional, or controversial content generates more clicks, shares, and comments than balanced, nuanced reporting. This creates an environment in which misinformation and disinformation can spread rapidly, while careful journalism struggles to compete for attention.

The Democratic Implications

The implications of this shift extend beyond individual media habits. In a democracy, the quality of public debate depends on the quality of information available to citizens. If a generation of voters forms its understanding of political issues primarily through sixty-second TikTok videos and Instagram stories, the depth and complexity of democratic discourse may suffer. This is not to suggest that young people are incapable of critical thinking, but rather that the platforms they rely on are not designed to encourage it.

At the same time, it would be condescending and inaccurate to dismiss young people's media choices as simply naive or lazy. Many young people actively seek out multiple sources, fact-check claims they encounter online, and use social media as a springboard for deeper research. The challenge is not to force young people back to traditional media but to ensure that the platforms they use are held to higher standards of accuracy and transparency.

Conclusion

Social media has undeniably become the dominant news provider for young people in the English-speaking world. This shift brings genuine benefits in terms of accessibility and reach, but also significant risks related to trust, accuracy, and the depth of public understanding. The data from both the UK and the US suggest that this trend is accelerating, not reversing. The question is not whether social media will continue to serve as a primary news source for young people – it will – but whether society can develop the tools, regulations, and media literacy education needed to ensure that the news young people consume is reliable, diverse, and conducive to informed democratic participation.

Growing Beyond the Walls We Build: Character Development in A Very Large Expanse of Sea and To Kill a Mockingbird

One of the most powerful aspects of literature is its ability to trace the internal transformation of a character – to show how experience, relationships, and self-reflection can change the way a person sees the world and their place in it. Tahereh Mafi's A Very Large Expanse of Sea (2018) and Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird (1960) both feature young narrators who undergo profound personal development as they confront prejudice and learn to see beyond their initial assumptions.

Shirin's Transformation

In the excerpt from A Very Large Expanse of Sea, Shirin reflects on how fundamentally she has changed. As a Muslim girl wearing a headscarf in post-9/11 America, Shirin has experienced persistent racism and hostility throughout her childhood, exacerbated by the family's frequent moves. This has made her defensive, angry, and deeply distrustful of others.

The most significant change Shirin describes is her shift from viewing other people as anonymous, threatening groups to seeing them as individuals. She admits to a painful self-recognition: she had been making the same kinds of sweeping assumptions about others that she resented when applied to her. This moment of self-awareness is the emotional core of the excerpt. Shirin realises that her defensive armour has not only protected her but has also prevented her from seeing others clearly – she has been guilty of the same kind of generalisation that she has suffered from.

Her relationship with Ocean is the catalyst for this change. She acknowledges that she spent too long pushing him away and wishes she had trusted him sooner. Ocean, as an outsider to her experience of discrimination, forced Shirin to confront her assumption that everyone would eventually reject her. His willingness to fight for their relationship – literally, by punching his coach – demonstrated a depth of commitment that challenged Shirin's belief that she could never be accepted.

The metaphor of light is central to Shirin's transformation. She describes her classmates as frightened and disoriented, moving through the world without clarity, and then resolves to introduce light into that darkness. This suggests that Shirin's growth is not just about changing her own perspective but about actively working to create understanding between people – replacing fear and ignorance with openness and connection.

Importantly, Shirin's development is presented as ongoing and imperfect. She acknowledges that this is something she still struggles with and expects to keep working on for the rest of her life. This honesty makes her growth feel authentic rather than artificially neat. She does not claim to have been transformed overnight; she describes a difficult, deliberate process of challenging her own defensive instincts.

Scout's Development in To Kill a Mockingbird

Jean Louise "Scout" Finch, the narrator of Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, undergoes a comparable but distinct process of development. Like Shirin, Scout begins the novel with a limited and often prejudiced view of the world around her. Growing up in the racially segregated town of Maycomb, Alabama, in the 1930s, Scout initially accepts the social hierarchies of her community without question.

Scout's transformation is driven primarily by her father, Atticus Finch, and his decision to defend Tom Robinson, a Black man falsely accused of raping a white woman. Through the trial, Scout is forced to confront the depth of racial injustice in her community. She watches as a clearly innocent man is convicted by an all-white jury, and she begins to understand that the adults she has trusted are capable of profound cruelty and moral cowardice.

Like Shirin, Scout learns to see beyond surface appearances. Her developing relationship with Boo Radley – the reclusive neighbour whom she and her brother have spent years mythologising as a monster – mirrors Shirin's shift from seeing people as "faceless masses" to recognising them as individuals. When Scout finally meets Boo at the end of the novel, she understands that the person she feared was actually gentle and protective. Standing on Boo's porch, she sees the neighbourhood from his perspective and realises, as Atticus has taught her, that "you never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view."

Comparison

Both Shirin and Scout undergo a process of disillusionment that ultimately leads to greater empathy. However, there are important differences in the nature and direction of their transformations. Scout moves from innocence to experience – she begins the novel as a naive child who gradually comes to understand the injustice of the adult world. Shirin, by contrast, begins with too much experience of injustice, which has made her cynical and closed off. Her growth involves not gaining awareness of prejudice – she has always been acutely aware of it – but learning not to let that awareness define her entire worldview.

Another key difference is the role of anger. Scout's development is characterised by a growing sadness and moral seriousness, while Shirin's is explicitly about releasing anger. She describes a weariness with dwelling on her own rage and on painful memories of how she had been treated. Her decision to let go of this anger is not about forgetting or excusing the racism she has experienced, but about refusing to let it consume her.

Conclusion

Both Shirin and Scout demonstrate that personal growth often involves the painful dismantling of protective assumptions. Whether the walls are built from innocence or from experience, from naivety or from justified anger, the process of breaking them down requires courage, vulnerability, and a willingness to be wrong about other people. In this sense, both novels argue that empathy is not a natural instinct but a skill – one that must be practised, imperfectly and continuously, throughout life.

The Human Need for Connection: Analysing Maya Angelou's "Alone"

Maya Angelou's poem "Alone" (1975) is a meditation on the fundamental human need for connection and community. Written in a deceptively simple style that echoes the rhythms of blues music and African American oral tradition, the poem argues that no person – regardless of wealth, status, or self-sufficiency – can thrive in isolation. Through its repetitive structure, vivid imagery, and escalating urgency, "Alone" builds a powerful case for interdependence as the foundation of human well-being.

Structure and Refrain

The poem is built around a recurring refrain that serves as both its structural backbone and its central message: a blunt insistence that nobody can make it through life alone. This refrain appears after each of the three main stanzas and also forms a brief separate chorus. The repetition functions like a musical hook, giving the poem a song-like quality that reinforces memorability and emotional impact.

The triple repetition of the refrain also creates a sense of accumulating evidence. Each stanza presents a different perspective on loneliness – the personal, the wealthy, and the universal – and each returns to the same inescapable conclusion. By the end of the poem, the message feels not like a suggestion but like a fundamental truth that has been proven from multiple angles.

The First Stanza: Personal Searching

The poem opens with the speaker awake at night, reflecting on the search for a spiritual home for the soul. This intimate, confessional tone immediately draws the reader into a moment of private vulnerability. The image of finding the soul a home suggests a search for belonging that goes beyond physical shelter – it is a spiritual and emotional quest.

The stanza contains biblical allusions that enrich the poem's meaning. The reversed image of bread turning to stone and water that fails to quench thirst echoes Jesus's temptation in the desert (Matthew 4:3) and the promise in Matthew 7:9 about a father not giving his son a stone in place of bread. These allusions suggest that the speaker is searching for a place of genuine nourishment and fulfilment, where basic needs are met and promises are kept. The reversal of expectations conveys a world of disappointment and unsatisfied longing.

The Second Stanza: Wealth Cannot Save

The second stanza shifts from the personal to the social, examining the lives of millionaires who cannot use their wealth. This stanza challenges the assumption that material wealth can provide security or happiness. Through images of frenzied wives and children singing the blues, Angelou paints scenes of domestic chaos and emotional suffering that are deliberately incongruous with the expectation of wealth bringing contentment.

A reference to expensive doctors hired to cure hearts of stone develops the stone metaphor from the first stanza. Here, hearts of stone suggest emotional numbness, coldness, and an inability to connect with others – qualities that no amount of medical expertise can remedy. Angelou implies that wealth, far from solving the problem of isolation, may actually intensify it by creating barriers between people.

The Third Stanza: Universal Urgency

The final stanza broadens the poem's scope from the individual and the wealthy to all of humanity. The speaker adopts a more urgent, prophetic tone, inviting the reader to listen closely. This direct address creates a sense of intimacy and importance, as though the speaker is sharing a crucial piece of wisdom.

The imagery shifts to the natural and the apocalyptic: gathering storm clouds, an approaching wind, and a suffering human race. These images suggest that the consequences of isolation are not merely personal but societal – the failure to connect with one another leads to collective suffering. The sound of moaning carries overtones of blues music and spiritual lamentation, reinforcing the poem's roots in African American cultural tradition.

Language and Tone

Angelou's language in "Alone" is deliberately accessible and conversational. She uses colloquial expressions and contractions that give the poem the feel of spoken wisdom rather than literary abstraction. This accessibility is central to the poem's purpose: it is meant to reach everyone, not just an educated elite. The tone moves from reflective and searching in the first stanza through observational and slightly sardonic in the second to urgent and prophetic in the third, building emotional intensity while maintaining the steady rhythm of the refrain.

Context and Interpretation

Maya Angelou wrote from a position of deep personal experience with isolation, discrimination, and the search for community. As a Black woman in twentieth-century America, she understood the particular forms of loneliness imposed by racism and social exclusion. However, "Alone" transcends its specific historical context to speak to a universal human experience. The poem's message – that nobody can survive alone – resonates across cultures and time periods because it addresses a fundamental truth about human nature: we are social beings who need connection to thrive.

In a contemporary context, the poem feels especially relevant. In an age of social media, where people are more "connected" than ever yet report increasing levels of loneliness and isolation, Angelou's insistence that genuine human connection is irreplaceable carries renewed urgency. The poem reminds us that no amount of technology, wealth, or self-reliance can substitute for the simple, essential act of being present with and for one another.