I often find myself torn when I hear people say that language is dying. On the surface, the claim seems reasonable. Our conversations are shorter, faster, and increasingly shaped by screens. Messages are reduced to fragments, emojis stand in for emotions, and public discourse often feels rushed and shallow. At times, I too worry that something essential is being lost, and that language is no longer given the time or care it once demanded.

Yet, as a student of language and a daily observer of how people actually use language, I cannot fully accept the idea of its death. What I see instead is change. Maybe chaotic sometimes, uncomfortable other times, but undeniably alive. Because language has always adapted to the needs of its speakers, and our current moment is no exception. The digital world has not silenced expression but it has multiplied it. New ways of speaking, writing, and meaning-making emerge constantly, often with a creativity that traditional forms rarely allowed.

Nonetheless, I am particularly struck by how language online plays with irony, humor, and shared cultural references. A single meme can carry layers of meaning that once required paragraphs to explain. Slang, hybrid languages, and non-standard varieties now function as powerful markers of identity and belonging. What some perceive as linguistic decay often reveals itself, upon closer inspection, as innovation.

Perhaps the discomfort many feel comes from losing control over what language should look like. The rules are less stable, the authorities less clear. However, this instability is not new, but it is simply more visible because language has never been fixed. And what we are experiencing is not the death of language, but the death of a narrow, idealized version of it.

From my perspective, we are living through a linguistic renaissance. A very unique one that does not unfold in libraries alone, but in comment sections, voice notes, and shared screens. Language is reshaping itself in response to a changing world. And as long as humans feel the need to connect, persuade, joke, and resist, language will remain very much alive.

One of the simplest yet most powerful tools I introduced early in my English classes is the concept of cognates. Cognates are words in different languages that share a common origin and often look and sound similar — such as information, nation, or important in English and French, or their close equivalents in Arabic through Latin-based borrowing.

When students realize that English is not entirely “foreign,” something shifts. Instead of seeing the language as a wall, they begin to see familiar doors. Words they thought were difficult suddenly become recognizable. This recognition immediately reduces anxiety and replaces fear with curiosity.

Introducing cognates early helped my students build confidence faster than expected. They stopped hesitating before reading texts and became more willing to guess meanings rather than wait for translation. This willingness to engage marked a clear change in their learning behavior.

Cognates also empowered students intellectually. They began to trust their linguistic intuition and understood that learning a new language is not about starting from zero, but about activating knowledge they already possess. For many, this realization was motivating: “I already know more English than I thought.”

In short, teaching cognates early does more than expand vocabulary because it reshapes students’ attitudes toward the language itself. Besides, confidence grows not from memorizing long word lists, but from recognizing that the unfamiliar is often closer than it appears.