#AdolescenceLiteracyMatters

by Rebecca Thomas

Why English must evolve to include digital and critical literacy for today’s teens.

Some might argue that digital literacy doesn’t belong in the English curriculum. Some say it fits better in Media Studies, or maybe Digital Technology.

First, remind ourselves that those are elective subjects.

English is the one subject every student takes.

English is where we explore human stories. Where we question perspective and voice. Where we teach students to craft arguments, interrogate sources, and think critically.

Why wouldn’t we use that space to teach them how to survive the most influential storytelling machine of our time—social media?

We like to think we understand the world our children are growing up in, but the truth is, we don’t. And that gap in understanding is dangerous.

Unsupervised, students as young as 5 have access to smartphones and tablets. What are they consuming? Who is influencing them? Do we even know?

The recent Netflix drama Adolescence makes one thing painfully clear—there is a massive disconnect between what we think children know about digital spaces and what is actually happening online. Digital technology is nurturing our child behind our backs.

The influencers, the algorithms, the constant reinforcement of ideas—they’re shaping beliefs, behaviours, and identities before parents or teachers even realise it’s happening. Teenagers seek help from other teenagers first. Not teachers. Not parents. Not adults with life experience.

We’re part of the problem too. Our own acceptance of screen culture, our reliance on algorithmic convenience, our endless scrolling—we normalise it all. So, how can we expect our children to be better?

How do we even begin to prepare them for a world we haven’t learned to navigate ourselves? And who is really raising our children?

Our children are using language that hides meaning from us. Untraceable emojis. Slang we don’t recognise. Even when we see the words on the screen, we don’t see the harm—the bullying, the pressure, the games of power and status playing out in a digital language we haven’t learned.

At 13, their brains are flooded with hormones. Their identities are fragile. Their need for validation is at its peak. And social media amplifies this vulnerability. It offers connection, but also constant comparison. It offers affirmation, but only in exchange for attention.

English has always been about language. About meaning. About voice, persuasion, power, and interpretation.

But we’re still teaching it like it exists in books and essays.

The image attached to this blog post wasn’t created by a graphic designer, AI, or an activist—it was designed by a Year 8 student in my class. Using Google Drawing, she crafted a piece that speaks louder than any essay could. Her message? The education system isn’t built for students like her.

This is how young people express themselves today—not in the rigid, formal structures of a three-part essay, but in visual storytelling, spoken word poetry, TikTok videos, street art, and music. Their world is made up of layered images, rapid digital interactions, and bold statements of identity.

We talk about English as a discipline, about the need to teach structure, correct grammar, and formal writing. And once, I might have agreed. But in a world where AI can construct a flawless essay in seconds, what is the true purpose of literacy?

Is it to demonstrate mastery of commas and semi-colons—or is it to empower young people to find their voice?

This student’s artwork reminds us that the literacy of the future isn’t just words—it’s images, videos, and soundbites. Our job isn’t to insist they conform to outdated forms of expression but to help them translate their ideas into the spaces where they live, create, and resist.

If we don’t, we risk making education completely irrelevant to the young people it’s meant to serve

We’re ignoring the fact that language now lives in captions, memes, deepfakes, and AI-generated content.

What is the discipline of English in an AI world?

Before the rise of AI, I might have agreed that we needed to focus on teaching students the discipline of writing—paragraph structures, thesis statements, grammar rules.

But let’s be honest—the rules of writing are no longer gatekept by humans.

AI can construct a competent five-paragraph essay with correct punctuation in seconds. It can scaffold arguments, rewrite sentences, and make structural suggestions on the fly.

If that’s what we’re teaching in English—just how to “construct” correct writing—we’re teaching skills that are already automated.

If we’re honest, the term "English" has changed. It changed the moment the internet became the dominant storytelling force in their lives.

And maybe it’s time we change the curriculum to reflect that.

Which literacy is more urgent?

The ability to write a perfectly structured essay with correct punctuation?
Or the ability to navigate the digital, visual, and rhetorical landscapes shaping our children’s minds every single day?

Because the world our kids live in is visual. It’s fast. It’s persuasive. And it’s dangerous—if you don’t know how to read it.

The discipline of English must evolve.

If we really believe English is a discipline, then we must accept that disciplines evolve. The “text” has changed. The platforms have changed. The power of language has exploded.

The new discipline of English is not about preserving tradition—it’s about preparing students to critically engage with the language systems that hold power over them right now.

That’s not a dilution of English. That’s a deepening.

If we want our young people to be free thinkers, active citizens, powerful storytellers—we need to meet them where they are. We need to teach them how to read between the lines of a Reel, a DM, a viral trend.

Because that’s where the real meaning-making is happening.

And if we keep pretending the only “real” writing is in an essay, we’ll keep losing them.

English has always been about making meaning. About questioning narratives. About understanding who holds power in language and why.

Yet, we continue to treat English as if it exists only in books and assignments, ignoring the fact that language is now weaponised in social media captions, deepfake videos, and AI-generated persuasion tactics. If we don’t embed digital literacy into English, we leave students vulnerable to the most influential language forces of our time.

If we want to prepare students for the world they actually live in—not the one we nostalgically remember—then digital literacy isn’t optional. It’s urgent.

And it belongs in English.