Submissions in the research category are open to research topics in any field: STEM, Social Sciences, Business, Humanities, etc. Submissions should use the documentation style appropriate to the discipline and should not exceed 20 pages. Anastasia Burbage wrote the 1st place submission in the Research category for the 2025 President’s Writing Awards.
About Anastasia
Anastasia is a second-year English Literature major with plans to teach high school English, inspired by a lifelong love of reading, writing, and the stories that shape us. She’s especially drawn to analytical writing that allows her to explore character depth, unravel layered plots, and reflect on an author’s intent. At the Boise State Writing Center, she enjoys helping fellow students find their voice on the page and build confidence in their ideas. Outside the classroom, she’s usually reading a romance novel, baking something sweet, or curating the perfect playlist.
Winning Manuscript – Past Voices, Present Swagger, Future Writers
Abstract
Finding voice in writing is a deeply personal journey, shaped by cultural, technological, and educational contexts. Through the perspectives of three generations—my nana, a retired teacher (1968-2010); my professor, Allison King, a contemporary educator; and myself, a future teacher—this study examines how voice develops and evolves. Interviews with Nana and Alli, alongside works by David Bartholomae, Peter Elbow, Gregory Shafer, and Leah Washko, reveal voice as both a personal tool for self-expression and a rhetorical strategy for adapting to diverse audiences. Nana’s structured approach emphasized immersion in literature and creative exercises, while Alli’s inclusive strategies encouraged students to balance authenticity with academic conventions.
Looking toward the future, writing centers play a crucial role in helping students navigate the complexities of voice. Combining Nana’s focus on foundational skills with Alli’s adaptability to modern challenges, this study envisions classrooms and writing centers as spaces where students can safely experiment and grow. The influence of technology, such as AI and TikTok, is also explored as both a challenge and an opportunity for modern writers. By fostering environments that value experimentation and vulnerability, educators ensure that students not only develop their voices but also feel empowered to share them authentically.
Keywords: voice, writing, cultural, technological, educational, generations, self-expression, rhetorical strategy, authenticity, writing centers
When I think about voice in writing, I picture it as the thread that ties a person’s inner world to the page. Voice is personal, yet it must adapt to different contexts and audiences. It’s the spark of individuality that makes a piece of writing uniquely yours, even as it fits within the expectations of an assignment or a genre. This project started as an academic endeavor but quickly turned into a personal exploration of how educators, across generations, have approached the challenge of helping students find and refine their voices. From my nana’s classroom in the 1970s to my professor Allison King’s modern writing strategies, to my own future as an educator, the journey of voice is as complex as it is rewarding.
Finding voice is not simply about personal expression; it is about connection—between the writer, the audience, and the context in which the writing occurs. My nana taught in an era where personal connection and communication shaped students’ voices, and her lessons reflect the cultural values of her time. In contrast, my professor Alli King works in a landscape shaped by diversity, technology, and evolving expectations. As I prepare for my future role, I see an opportunity to merge these approaches into a vision for teaching that embraces the complexity of voice while empowering students to claim it as their own.
When I imagine my nana in her classroom in the early 1970s, I see her surrounded by worn wooden desks and eager young faces. Sunlight streams through tall windows and the air hums with the energy of discovery. Her teaching was as vibrant as the posters that lined the classroom walls, filled with vocabulary words and snippets of poetry meant to inspire creativity.
“The four fundamentals of literature are listening, speaking, writing, and reading,” Nana told me during our interview, her voice steady with the wisdom of decades. For her, voice wasn’t an abstract concept; it was a skill, like learning to swim or ride a bike. She believed that students needed to immerse themselves in literature to develop their own unique style. Her classroom library was stocked with books by authors like Langston Hughes, Shel Silverstein, and Lewis Carroll, whose rhythms and wordplay became the foundation for her students’ voices.
Nana’s methods often included free writing sessions, where students could put their thoughts on paper without worrying about form or correctness. These sessions were particularly powerful for students who struggled to articulate their ideas, giving them a space to experiment without judgment. For example, after reading Where the Wild Things Are, younger students might spend a few minutes freely writing what they imagined the Wild Things’ forest smelled like or what Max’s thoughts were as he sailed home. Another activity involved students rewriting simple sentences to make them vivid. “The glass was dirty” could become “The smeared fingerprints streaked the once-clear pane.”
For older students, the work grew more analytical. She introduced newspapers, asking students to identify bias, humor, and tone. These activities sharpened their ability to recognize voice as a deliberate choice made by writers to convey specific effects. Nana also believed strongly in modeling, showing students how authors like John Steinbeck, Langston Hughes, and Mark Twain infused their personalities into their writing. She connected these lessons to her students’ own lives, helping them see that their voices mattered just as much.
Nana’s work with older students often involved practical activities that encouraged them to develop their writing voices through structure and creativity. One technique she used was “closed sentences,” where students had to fill in blanks to complete thoughts in a way that aligned with the tone or intent of a passage. For example, “Martin always his name” might be completed with words like “liked” and “first” or “forgot” and “last,” depending on the desired message. This exercise taught students to consider how word choices shape meaning and how they could use these techniques in their own writing.
One of her most inspiring stories was about a sixth-grader named Leroy, who wrote an essay titled “Why I Love America.” Coming from a poor family, Leroy had few resources but a deep sense of patriotism. His voice—raw, heartfelt, and uniquely his—stood out so much that Nana entered his essay into a citywide contest, where it won first place. “His heart and love for his country came through,” she said, her pride evident. For Leroy, writing wasn’t just about meeting expectations; it was about sharing his truth.
Yet Nana also recognized challenges. As technology and social norms shifted, she saw a decline in students’ confidence in their voices. Families no longer communicated as they once did, and students, she said, struggled to articulate opinions with conviction. Still, her approach remained consistent: immerse students in literature, provide opportunities to experiment and show them that their voice mattered.
Fast forward to the fluorescent lights of today, where laptops hum and smartphones buzz alongside pens scratching on paper. Allison King, my English professor from last year, teaches in this dynamic and complex world. Her definition of voice—“that swagger, to be able to adapt”— captures the fluidity and complexity of writing in a time shaped by technology, diversity, and shifting cultural norms.
Alli’s classroom is a space for experimentation and inclusion. Her strategies reflect the challenges and opportunities of teaching voice in today’s educational landscape. She shared with me the story of a Norwegian student who initially relied on AI to translate her writing into English. The student’s work felt stiff and detached, stripped of the nuance that made her ideas special. Alli encouraged her to keep untranslatable words and add explanatory notes instead. The result was transformative. The student’s writing became vibrant and authentic, and her confidence blossomed both on and off the page.
Alli’s philosophy aligns with Gregory Shafer’s insights. Shafer explores the delicate balance between maintaining authenticity and meeting audience expectations, a balance that is central to Alli’s teaching (1999). She challenges her students to think critically about their audience: Who is their audience? What tone or style will resonate? What values are at stake? “You don’t want to lean 100% into audience expectations, but you can meet them halfway,” she told me.
For Alli, vulnerability is at the heart of voice. “The most difficult thing about voice is allowing yourself to be vulnerable,” she said. This vulnerability isn’t just emotional; it’s intellectual. It requires students to trust their unique perspectives, even when they don’t fit traditional academic molds. Writing centers, Alli believes, are essential spaces for fostering this trust. She described how one student struggling with a biology project found her voice by starting with a personal story. By connecting her academic writing to her own life, the student unlocked a style that was both authentic and effective.
Alli also reflected on the cultural and technological influences shaping voice today. Platforms like TikTok provide new forms of expression, creating a shared language of slang, trends, and memes. Alli compared this to how her generation used movie quotes to communicate. This observation aligns with Peter Elbow’s argument that voice evolves with its context (1994). Alli embraces these changes, using them to teach students how to adapt their voices while maintaining their core authenticity.
Her vision for writing centers mirrors Leah Wasko’s emphasis on collaboration and creativity. By empowering tutors to use innovative strategies, writing centers can help students see voice as a flexible tool that evolves with their experiences and goals (2023).
As I prepare to step into my role as an educator, I find myself at the intersection of Nana’s structured approach and Alli’s adaptable, inclusive methods. Their stories and insights have shown me that voice isn’t static—it’s a living, evolving part of who we are. My goal is to help students embrace this evolution, guiding them to see their voice as both a personal tool and a rhetorical strategy.
David Bartholomae highlights the tension students face when they feel pressured to adopt an academic persona(1986). I have seen this in my own peers—students who worry that their authentic voice isn’t “good enough” for academia. I want to challenge this mindset. My classroom will be a space where students feel free to experiment, fail, and try again. I’ll encourage them to see writing as a process, not a product, and to understand that their voice has value, even in spaces that seem rigid or unwelcoming.
To achieve this, I plan to incorporate creative exercises inspired by Nana and Alli. I’ll pair Nana’s “free writing” sessions with Alli’s creative prompts, giving students opportunities to connect personal experiences to academic tasks. For example, a student writing a research paper on climate change might begin by describing a memory of their favorite outdoor space, using personal voice to ground their argument.
Writing centers will also play a pivotal role in my vision. Leah Washko’s work emphasizes the importance of collaboration and creativity in tutoring. I hope to host workshops for tutors to meet students where they are, teaching them tools like brainstorming maps, reflective questions, and even multimedia projects to help students experiment with voice. I’ll also encourage the use of technology, not as a crutch, but as a tool for brainstorming and organization.
Technology will undoubtedly shape the future of voice. Alli’s perspective on AI is particularly inspiring. While AI can assist with outlines or ideas, the heart of writing—the voice—must come from the writer. I want my students to understand that their voice is irreplaceable, no matter how advanced the tools at their disposal become.
As I reflect on the past, present, and future of teaching voice, I see a common thread: voice is more than words on a page. It’s a reflection of who we are, shaped by our experiences, cultures, and ambitions. From Nana’s structured yet creative classroom to Alli’s dynamic and inclusive strategies, to my own vision of a future classroom that blends the two, the journey of voice is one of growth and self-discovery.
Writing centers and educators have the unique privilege of guiding students on this journey. By creating spaces where students feel safe to experiment, fail, and try again, we help them uncover their authentic selves. Voice, after all, isn’t static. It evolves with every word, every sentence, and every story. As educators, our job is to ensure that this evolution is nurtured, celebrated, and, most importantly, heard.
References
Bartholomae, D. (1986). Inventing the university. Journal of Basic Writing, 5(1), 4-22. https://doi.org/10.37514/JBW-J.1986.5.1.02
Elbow, P. (1994). What do we mean when we talk about voice in texts?, National Council of Teachers of English, 47(1), https://doi.org/10.2307/358288
Shafer, G. (1999). Negotiating audience and voice in the writing center. Teaching English in the Two-Year College, 27(2), 220–227. https://doi.org/10.58680/tetyc19991877
Washko, L. (2023). Amplifying tutor voices: A qualitative analysis for improving writing center tutoring practices and pedagogy. English Department Masters Theses, 3, https://research.library.kutztown.edu/englishtheses/3