Between paragraphs 27 and 30, the syntax conveys Anzaldua's deep emotions about her lingual identity using mostly balanced and declarative sentences. The perfect balanced in noticed in excerpts such as "Until I can take pride in my language, I cannot take pride in myself. Until I can accept as legitimate Chicano Texas Spanish, Tex-Mex, and all other languages I speak, I cannot accept the legitimacy of myself". In a series of staccato complex sentences Anzaldua further describes her longing for lingual acceptance by stating "I will have my voice: Indian, Spanish, white. I will have my serpent's tongue - my woman's voice, my sexual voice, m y poet's voice". By organizing her sentences in this way, she draws the reader's attention to the fact that she is virtually unable to accept herself without her own language being accepted as it is a part of her. In this way the reader is able to sympathize with the author's lack of self-realization and is able to more fully understand the author's indignation with the dissection of her mother-tongue.
Anzaldua employs the useful tactic of a narrative flashback to further instill an empathetic emotion in the reader. She recounts her "stunned amazement" upon reading her first Chicano novel "City of Night". Soon after that she is exposed to more Chicano literature an even poetry, and with each exposure she gains "a feeling of pure joy" and "a sense of belonging". Here, she targets a the basic human emotion of wanting to be accepted among a group for who we truly are as opposed to what others want us or think us to be. Such a plea for acceptance is an easy concept for the reader to relate to, and thus this method serves to draw the reader