The Art of Gonna

For centuries, English has been considered a language of refinement, elegance, and—if we are completely honest with ourselves—full of constant “rule-breaking.” Few examples of this are more apparent than the rise of contractions and slang such as “gonna,” “lemme,” and “wanna.”

In a traditional literary context, these words are considered unruly and unorthodox, compressing sounds and bypassing the polished grammar of “going to,” “let me,” and “want to.” To the self-appointed guardians of grammar, this compression is nothing short of linguistic heresy. When someone dares to write “gonna” instead of “going to,” the purists spring into action, correcting the phrase to “going to.” They then smugly add a small asterisk at the end to signify the sheer magnitude of their correction. The message of the paragraph? Irrelevant. A simple grammatical error, in their eyes, is enough to drain the paragraph of meaning. 

 The “correction” is rarely about comprehensibility. No one has ever read the sentence “I’m gonna get water” and wondered what the speaker meant; the meaning is still universally understood. What becomes clear, then, is that the “correction” is not a noble defense of clarity but a performance of authority meant to police and strip away the organic texture of language. In other words, the excessive purity in English is indicative of a wider unease over the language’s natural evolution. 

Contractions, compressed words, and slang are not random distortions nor aberrations. Instead, they serve as reflections of the culture of each individual and the authenticity of the language itself. To dismiss them as incorrect is to misunderstand the purpose of language, which is primarily based on the desire to communicate the human experience. 

Modern slang is far from a degradation of the English language. Instead, it’s a continuation of the long-standing tradition of what is often considered “radical” and non-conformist linguistic innovation. If one examines the history of the English language, one will discover that what is now deemed “standard” was once itself a form of deviation. 

Old English, originally spoken by the Anglo-Saxons, with its complex inflections and Germanic roots, gave way to Middle English. Middle English also absorbed French vocabulary after the Norman Conquest of England. The grammar of Old English changed radically through simplification, shedding many of its complex structures. Later, Early Modern English was shaped by the works of the renowned writers Geoffrey Chaucer and William Shakespeare, both of whom integrated what was considered unconventional syntax and eccentric neologisms in their writings. Words that now feel entirely ordinary, such as “overwhelmed” and its playful coinage “underwhelmed,” were once viewed as strange innovations. Shakespeare himself coined dozens of terms including “bedazzled” and “swagger.” These examples remind us that what are now considered “standard” English terms began as a linguistic rebellion and were only later embraced as part of the language’s core.

The contraction “gonna,” alongside other forms of slang, is therefore a natural extension and evolution of this historical process. What is often dismissed as laziness or carelessness is the same instinct that has shaped the English language for centuries. The very figures who are revered as the pinnacle of modern English literature were often accused of bending and even breaking the rules in their own time. Denying the legitimacy of slang and other modernistic terms is denying the mechanism by which English has survived and flourished across the centuries. Treating modern contractions and colloquialisms differently applies a double standard that history empirically refutes.

Even if one disagrees with certain progressions of the language, it is unfair and ultimately destructive to disregard their validity entirely. Language is inseparable from identity and is ultimately a vessel for sociolinguistic communication between various communities. African American Vernacular English (AAVE), for example, uses structures like the habitual “be” (“She be working late”), which follows consistent grammatical rules. Yet AAVE is often stigmatized as “broken English,” a judgment that delegitimizes the voices of African American communities. Similarly, Appalachian English preserves older English forms such as double modals (“might could”), but is mocked as being an uneducated form of the language. When purists insist that only rigid structures of English are acceptable, they are imposing a hierarchy of expression that privileges one mode of speech while undercutting another, with the latter usually being the voice of marginalized communities. 

This is not to say that formality has no place in communication. Formal English remains indispensable in contexts where precision, tradition, and continuity are paramount. For example, legal documents and academic papers—places where a single error could significantly alter interpretation—require a level of standardization and consistency that informal language cannot always provide. In these settings, formality serves as a safeguard against ambiguity.

However, to elevate formality above all else is to mistakenly believe that the supporting structure in formal, rule-bound English is more important than the substance it was meant to uphold. Informal speech is the living pulse of the language and highlights the adaptability and ingenuity built within it. Therefore, the two modes should not be seen as adversaries but as complementary to one another—one might call this linguistic dualism. 

In this light, the rise of contractions and slang is a display of the vitality of English. In fact, they remind us that English is a fluid, living language that is constantly being reshaped by the communities who use it.