Employing Students' Language Resources to Unlock Academic English Writing
- Yuchen Hou
- May 9
- 4 min read
Yuchen Hou, University of Canterbury, New Zealand
When I think about academic English writing, it is not just the topic of my PhD research – it is also a deeply personal journey that has shaped who I am: from a student to a teacher, and now a PhD researcher. Along the way, I have learned that using all of our language resources is not a weakness in academic writing – it can be a powerful asset.
Back in my final undergraduate semester as an English major student in China, we had a course on academic English writing. It was the only course that semester, yet none of us took it seriously. Most of us were busy preparing for internships or graduate exams. Even our teacher seemed to treat it as just another box to tick. We assumed that writing in English would not be too different from writing in Chinese.
It soon became clear that this assumption was wrong. Everything changed when I started my Master of Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) in the UK. It was here that I truly encountered the challenges of academic English writing. Six essays, each 3,000 words, were due by the end of the first semester. Some TESOL topics were familiar from my undergraduate studies, so I did not initially find the essays difficult. However, my grades were lower than expected.
The feedback I received included comments such as, “You did not demonstrate critical thinking”, and “What is your main argument?” I was confused. I felt that I had presented my main point clearly, and the term “critical thinking” was unfamiliar to me.
In order to seek clarity, I approached one of my professors. She was not surprised by my questions. She explained that many Chinese students struggle with presenting a clear argument and demonstrating critical thinking. She sought to clarify what these concepts meant, and I attempted to articulate the source of my confusion. However, the language barrier made it difficult for me to express myself fully, and her explanation, also in English, remained abstract and unclear to me.
To improve my writing, I later enrolled in a specialised academic English writing course. On the first day, the instructor clearly stated that the entire course, including all discussions, questions, and feedback, would be conducted in English. Among the twenty students in the class, sixteen were from China. No one objected to this requirement, as we had all accepted the “full English immersion” model as standard practice when studying in an English-speaking country.
However, as the course progressed, our classroom became increasingly silent. The rhetorical patterns of English academic writing, such as placing the argument at the beginning and demonstrating a particular form of critical analysis, were unfamiliar and difficult to grasp. We struggled to understand, but we were not allowed to ask questions in Chinese, nor to check our understanding with our peers using our mother tongue. Eventually, silence became the norm.
Later, when I became a university English teacher in China, I reflected deeply on my own learning experiences. I did not want my students to repeat the same struggles I had faced.
I began to use Chinese in my teaching to explain the structural differences between Chinese and English academic writing. I knew that Chinese students are not lacking in critical thinking or argumentation skills, but are familiar with a different kind of academic logic. For example, in Chinese essays, students are expected to build up the context and unfold ideas gradually, using parallelism (排比句) to build emotional and logical momentum, and to elevate their argument.
I also introduced the Chinese concept of 压轴, which refers to placing the most important content at the end, much like the finale of a performance. This approach is often reflected in Chinese academic writing, where the main argument may appear in the conclusion.
In contrast, English academic writing expects the main argument to be introduced early, followed by evidence and analysis. I used both languages to compare these approaches and showed students side-by-side examples. Gradually, their understanding improved. They became more confident in English academic writing.
By using their whole language resources to explain new concepts, I was not undermining English learning – I was supporting it.
Through this process, I began to question the “English-only” ideology that dominates many English language classrooms in Chinese universities. I came to see that effective teaching involves more than total immersion in the target language. It involves making meaningful connections to learners’ existing knowledge and language resources.
Language is not only a tool for communication; it is also a medium for thought, culture, and identity. Learners’ first languages can be bridges to deeper understanding. Suppressing them often leads to confusion, anxiety, and silence. Embracing them, on the other hand, can lead to clarity, confidence, and growth.
Every learner deserves the opportunity to express themselves – not only in English, but through the languages they already know.
Yuchen Hou is a third-year PhD candidate, research assistant, and assistant lecturer at the University of Canterbury, New Zealand. His research explores how Chinese university students develop academic English writing by drawing on their full linguistic resources. Before beginning his doctoral studies, he worked as an IELTS instructor at Hujiang Education and later as an English lecturer at a university in China.