December 9^th, 2008

ENG 319- Fall 08

Final Blog Response

Nikki- (Nikki stated from the very beginning that she loved writing and had a specific method of writing that she used. Right away I held higher standards for Nikki before reading her work. ) In the start of Nikki's work I found that she has overall great content and a strong voice. She uses book references smoothly but frequently. Her paragraphs tend to be a bit lengthily at times however, which can be over whelming. The more personal based the paper assignment the better Nikki's papers are. She has a strong voice and strong opinions.

Kayla- Right away after reading her about me section I noticed that her voice tends to me very technical. Kayla is a fun writer and has a lot of strong voice that is consistent throughout all of her pieces on her blog. Like I stated before she has a very technical sounding voice....meaning she uses larger words and she references books and authors a lot in her writing. She has an amazing ability of making her papers very organized and therefore very easy and enjoyable to read. I don't feel that she improved much over the course but I feel that she didn't need much improving to start.

Audra V- I had the pleasure to work with her a few times in class on various activities and truly enjoyed reading her writing. She is very soft spoken but has a real talent for getting her thoughts out. She was able to understand a good portion of our readings...which I did not....and so I would read her responses to assist me with getting a better understanding for them. Overall I think that although she is soft spoken in person her papers carry her true thoughts and great strengths in writing and reading.

Rachel- I think that Rachel has a lot to say about herself! She often refers to herself in her writing...I don't think this is bad, after all it is what she knows best.  I think she writes like a teacher...as do I... she tends to have lots of examples and opinions with in her writing, even if it is a very research based topic. She has great structure and organization in all her writings. I think by her last writing (memoir) she really opened up and cranked out an amazing piece of work. She talks about her writing struggles but has the ability to write about them so well. I think that she improved over the period of the course on letting loose and really expressing her thoughts.

Myself- Finally as for myself...I think I really improved over time. In my first paper I just brush the surface of how I feel (trying to hold back anything that could make me look dumb). This class was full of very smart English majors and very strong writers. I find writing to me my weakness, so I held back my voice a lot. After a while and as seen in my 2^nd and 3^rd papers I feel that I really let go and open up. I write to get my thoughts out and my very feelings. I think they are two of my strongest papers I have ever written! As far as the reading responses go.....I found most of the readings to be way over my head and so I half assed most of them do to that problem. Overall I feel that I improved as a writer and as a more confident person.

November 19, 2008

ENG 319- Fall 08

Paper #3 (Final)

The Power of Writing

As I sit here thinking of what pivotal moment in my writing life has affected me so much that it would be worth sharing with my class, I begin to reflect on my feelings toward writing itself. I do not enjoy writing nor am I very good at it; therefore, I just don't have a lot of past memories to sort through and find something interesting for my fellow peers to indulge in. However, I know the power that writing can possess.  The longer I sit here in my basement reflecting on my past writing life, the more I think about how I truly only have one piece of writing that filled me with unbelievable amounts of emotion. I knew this would be the piece and time in life that I would reflect back upon for this paper.

***

It was my first week of my first semester of college and I was in my intro college English class.  This was my first college English class ever and I was nervous because of all the horror stories from high school. The class was large, cold, and the desks were in narrow rows. The room was full of students who came to Steamboat just to ski and satisfy their parent's needs by going to "school."  I however was attending this school because I didn't know what I wanted to study, but I knew I needed to stay in school or I would never want to return after being in the "real world." The middle aged, unorganized professor made her way into the full class about ten minutes late. The fear in her eyes and her unsteady breath reassured me that she was scared to death, as well. She proceeded to tell us her name, age, where she went to school, and what her expectations were for the course. Syllabi were handed out and we were given our first assignment.

The assignment was to write about something that stood out in our minds about our summer. The class roared with laughter and many other students thought of something right away that would be "sick" to write about. I didn't have a good summer; it was not filled with happy memories and fun times. My best friend was killed in a car accident and that's all I remembered from the summer. I didn't like to discuss that event; it still hadn't even sunk in. I didn't want to be the one downer who writes a sob story, while the rest of the class writes about their best vacation ever or their best camping trip. I decided to give it some time and try to remember something other than that event. Two weeks passed and it was time for the first draft to be due. I still could only think of this; after all, that is all that plagued my mind for my entire summer. So despite what I really wanted to write about, I decided to go with the topic of my best friend's death. At the time I was unaware of the heartache I would uncover, the regret I would feel, and the hate that I had. But I was also about to discover one of the best methods of therapy that I could provide myself with....writing.

I had been told for years that "writing is fun and can be a way to relieve stress, and a great way to get your thoughts out in an organized manner." However, I had never written anything like this. I was not given a topic or paper boundaries; I was now able to write how I wanted and whatever I wanted....that made me very excited (no paper limits?, no book to reflect back on?.. yes!). My struggle for the paper was reflecting on one of the worst events of life. I would have to go back to that day and write a very detailed description of what had happened and what my feelings were. I hadn't even discussed my feelings with my parents, my other friends, or even his family. I had bottled all my thoughts up and threw that out to sea in hopes that someone would hear my pain someday, but just not right away.

As I sat down to write the essay, I began to drift away from the actual event toward my feelings from that day, to the feelings I still had. It was not hard for me to start writing, but it was hard for me to re-read. The page became filled with my deepest thoughts and feelings and it was hard to actually see the pain laid out in plain sight for me. The guilt I felt as I read the thoughts had ripped me apart....should I have written the paper as a memory to my friend instead of a selfish rant about how his death affected me? NO! I needed this few page essay to be all about me, my feelings, my hurt, and my current situation, and not about how his family felt about all of this; people were waiting for my feelings and, well, here they were.

How could Jeff put himself in this position again, to get in a car with another careless driver; did the first two near death accidents not teach him anything? Why was the driver able to survive the accident with not a scratch but Jeff died right away? I hated Dan so much for driving so fast and in those conditions. Dan was always such a selfish person, and this time his selfishness cost my best friend, a son, and a caring person his life. Why Jeff and not Dan? These were questions I knew could never be answered but I wanted to express. I filled the pages with endless questions and stories of sleepless nights. I even wrote how I used to call his old number just to hear his voice again and hoping that maybe just maybe he would pick it up. He never did and that is what was so hard... how could I hear the voice of this person that is no longer there for me to see? I wrote about my fears of forgetting his voice, the smell of his cologne, and what he looked like. I was scared that if he was not on my mind all the time then I was betraying him after all that he had done for me. How could I go on living a normal life and have fun when I know he is not here to share those memories with me?  My essay came to an end and it was now time to turn it in. That Friday I walked slowly and nervously to the front of the room and put it down on the large stack of papers. The professor smiled and said, "Have a wonderful weekend." I smiled back.

Later that weekend while I was online, I decided to check my school e-mail. I had an e-mail from my professor and it read, "Melanie I need to talk to you about your paper. Please come in my office before class." Great! I had totally bombed the paper or didn't do what was asked; I just told my teacher all this private information for nothing and now she was about to rip my feelings and thoughts apart.

Monday morning came faster than I wanted. I had this ache in my chest like never before and my hands got sweaty. I reached for the doorknob and entered saying,  "You wanted to see me?" She asked me to take a seat. She held my paper in her hands and made eye contact with me. She gripped the paper tighter and looked down again. I heard her sniffle and then she looked up at me again, this time with tears filling her eyes. She proceeded to tell me that Dan, the driver of the car, was her nephew. Oh great, I just offended my professor by telling her I wish her careless nephew would have been in Jeff's place.  She told me that what I had written had made her mad at first but now brought her a sense of closure that she had been longing for. She told me she had always wanted to share her feelings on the event and even more than that she wanted to hear how someone from the other side felt. I thought what a small world it was that two people who had never crossed paths before now shared a life changing event together.  She told me my thoughts were beautiful and asked if I had given a copy to his family. I told her no, I did not want anyone to know my thoughts yet. She said that giving the writing would allow me to give them all my feelings without any interruption and that my paper had an unlined message of my love and friendship for their son. It took many weeks before I got the courage to mail Jeff's family a copy of my paper...my most private thoughts.

***

This was a memory that I will never forget. It was a pivotal day in my writing career, which changed the way I look at writing simple essays and free writes. I learned the power that writing can hold; with writing I am able to get my deepest thoughts and feelings out of my head and on to paper. It leaves me the option to share this with others or to have something that I can reflect back upon it for years to come. I have also learned that although I can share an event with someone, the memories and feelings we both have are very different. The day of Jeff's death with remain in my mind forever but that paper will be there for me to read when I feel those memories slipping away.

Frankfurt and Miller have many differences when it comes to the ideas behind truth. Frankfurt believes that anyone and everyone can achieve truth. He feels that it is something scientific in a way, and that it does not take an individual to have truth. Frankfurt solely believes in one truth for something. However, on the contrary Miller feels that an individual can experience truth and therefore truth is based on the individual experiencing that event. Miller feels that anyone can have a truth....even if that means different view points over the same event.

November 19, 2008

ENG 319- Fall 08

Paper #3 Rough #2

The Power of Writing

As I sit here thinking of what pivotal moment in my writing life has affected me so much that it would be worth sharing with my class, I begin to reflect on my feelings toward writing itself. I do not enjoy writing nor am I very good at it; therefore, I just don't have a lot of past memories to sort through and find something interesting for my fellow peers to indulge in. However, I know the power that writing can possess.  The longer I sit here in my basement reflecting on my past writing life, the more I think about how I truly only have one piece of writing that made me fill with unbelievable amounts of emotion. I knew this would be the piece and time in life that I would reflect back upon for this paper.

***

It was my first week of my first semester of college and I was in my intro college English class.  This was my first college English class ever and I was nervous because of all the horror stories from high school. The class was large, cold, and the desks were in narrow rows. The room was full of students who came to Steamboat just to ski and satisfy their parent's needs by going to "school."  I however was attending this school because I didn't know what I wanted to study, but I knew I needed to stay in school or I would never want to return after being in the "real world." The middle aged, unorganized professor made her way into the full class about ten minutes late. The fear in her eyes and her unsteady breath reassured me that she was scared to death, as well. She proceeded to tell us her name, age, where she went to school, and what her expectations were for the course. Syllabi were handed out and we were given our first assignment.

The assignment was to write about something that stood out in our minds about our summer. The class roared with laughter and many other students thought of something right away that would be "sick" to write about. I didn't have a good summer; it was not filled with happy memories and fun times. My best friend was killed in a car accident and that's all I remembered from the summer. I didn't like to discuss that event; it still hadn't even sunk in. I didn't want to be the one downer who writes a sob story, while the rest of the class writes about their best vacation ever or their best camping trip. I decided to give it some time and try to remember something other than that event. Two weeks passed and it was time for the first draft to be due. I still could only think of this, after all that is all that plagued my mind for my entire summer. So despite what I really wanted to write about, I decided to go with the topic of my best friend's death. At the time I was unaware of the heartache I would uncover, the regret I would feel, and the hate that I had. But I was also about to discover one of the best methods of therapy that I could provide myself with....writing.

I had been told for years that "writing is fun and can be a way to relieve stress, and a great way to get your thoughts out in an organized manner." However, I had never written anything like this. I was not given a topic or paper boundaries; I was now able to write how I wanted and whatever I wanted....that made me very excited (no paper limits?, no book to reflect back on?.. yes!). My struggle for the paper was reflecting on one of the worst events of life. I would have to go back to that day and write a very detailed description of what had happened and what my feelings were. I hadn't even discussed my feelings with my parents, my other friends, or even his family. I had bottled all my thoughts up and threw that out to sea in hopes that someone would hear my pain someday, but just not right away.

As I sat down to write the essay, I began to drift away from the actual event toward my feelings from that day, to the feelings I still had. It was not hard for me to start writing but it was hard for me to re-read. The page became filled with my deepest thoughts and feelings and it was hard to actually see the pain laid out in plain sight for me. The guilt I felt as I read the thoughts had ripped me apart....should I have written the paper as a memory to my friend instead of a selfish rant about how his death effected me? NO! I needed this few page essay to be all about me, my feelings, my hurt, and my current situation, and not about how his family felt about all of this; people were waiting for my feelings and, well, here they were.

How could Jeff put himself in this position again, to get in a car with another careless driver; did the first two near death accidents not teach him anything? Why was the driver able to survive the accident with not a scratch but Jeff died right away? I hated Dan so much for driving so fast and in those conditions. Dan was always such a selfish person, and this time his selfishness cost my best friend, a son, and a caring person his life. Why Jeff and not Dan? These were questions I knew could never be answered but I wanted to express. I filled the pages with endless questions and stories of sleepless nights. I even wrote how I used to call his old number just to hear his voice again and hoping that maybe just maybe he would pick it up. He never did and that is what was so hard... how could I hear the voice of this person that is no longer there for me to see? I wrote about my fears of forgetting his voice, the smell of his cologne, and what he looked like. I was scared that if he was not on my mind all the time then I was betraying him after all that he had done for me. How could I go on living a normal life and have fun when I know he is not here to share those memories with me?  My essay came to an end and it was now time to turn it in. That Friday I walked slowly and nervously to the front of the room and put it down on the large stack of papers. The professor smiled and said, "Have a wonderful weekend." I smiled back.

Later that weekend while I was online, I decided to check my school e-mail. I had an e-mail from my professor and it read, "Melanie I need to talk to you about your paper. Please come in my office before class." Great! I had totally bombed the paper or didn't do what was asked; I just told my teacher all this private information for nothing and now she was about to rip my feelings and thoughts apart.

Monday morning came faster than I wanted. I had this ache in my chest like never before and my hands got sweaty. I reached for the doorknob and entered saying,  "You wanted to see me?" She asked me to take a seat. She held my paper in her hands and made eye contact with me. She gripped the paper tighter and looked down again. I heard her sniffle and then she looked up at me again, this time with tears filling her eyes. She proceeded to tell me that Dan, the driver of the car, was her nephew. Oh great, I just offended my professor by telling her I wish her careless nephew would have been in Jeff's place.  She told me that what I had written had made her mad at first but now brought her a sense of closure that she had been longing for. She told me she had always wanted to share her feelings on the event and even more than that she wanted to hear how someone from the other side felt. I thought what a small world it was that two people who had never crossed paths before now shared a life changing event together.  She told me my thoughts were beautiful and asked if I had given a copy to his family. I told her no, I did not want anyone to know my thoughts yet. She said that giving the writing would allow me to give them all my feelings with out any interruption and that my paper had an unlined message of my love and friendship for their son. It took many weeks before I got the courage to mail Jeff's family a copy of my paper...my most private thoughts.

***

This was a memory that I will never forget. It was a pivotal day in my writing career, which changed the way I look at writing simple essays and free writes. I learned the power that writing can hold; with writing I am able to get my deepest thoughts out and feelings out of my head and on to paper. It leaves me the option to share this with others or to have something that I can reflect back upon it for years to come. I have also learned that although I can share an event with someone, the memories and feelings we both have are very different. The day of Jeff's death with remain in my mind forever but that paper will be there for me to read when I feel those memories slipping away.

November 19, 2008

ENG 319- Fall 08

Paper #3 Rough #1

The Power of Writing

As I sit here thinking of what pivotal moment in my writing life has affected me so much that it would be worth sharing with my class, I begin to reflect on my feelings toward writing itself. I do not enjoy writing nor am I very good at it, therefore I just don't have a lot of past memories to sort through and find something interesting for my fellow peers to indulge in. However I know the power that writing can posses.  The longer I sit here in my basement reflecting on my past writing life, the more I think about how I truly only have one piece of writing that made me fill with unbelievable amounts of emotion. I knew this would be the piece and time in life that I would reflect back upon for this paper.

It was my first week of my first semester of college and I was in my intro college English class.  This was my first college English class ever and I was nervous from all the horror stories from high school. The class was large, cold, and the desks were in narrow rows. The room was full of students who came to Steamboat to just ski and satisfy their parent's needs by going to "school."  I however was attending this school because I didn't know what I wanted to study but I knew I needed to stay in school or I would never want to return after being in the "real world." Anyways the middle aged, unorganized professor made her way into the full class about ten minutes late. You could see the fear in her eyes and her unsteady breath reassured me that she was scared to death. She proceeded to tell us her name, age, where she went to school, and what her expectations were for the course. Syllabuses were handed out and we were given our first assignment.

We were to write about something that stood out in our minds about our summer. The class roared with laughter and many other students thought of something right away that would be "sick" to write about. I didn't have a good summer; it was not filled with happy memories and fun times. My best friend was killed in a car accident and that's all I remembered from the summer. I didn't like to discuses that event; it still hadn't even sunk in what had happened. I didn't want to be the one downer who writes a sob story, while the rest of the class writes about their best vacation ever or their best camping trip. I decided to give it sometime and try to remember something other than that event. Two weeks passed and it was time for the first draft to be due. I still could only think of this, after all that is all that plagued my mind for my entire summer. So despite what I really wanted to write about I decided to go with the topic of my best friends death. At the time I was unaware of the heartache I would uncover, the regret I would feel, and the hate that I had. But I was also about to discover one of the best methods of therapy that I could provide myself with....writing.

I had been told for years that "writing is fun and can be a way to relieve stress, and a great way to get your thoughts out in an organized manner." However, I had never written anything like this. I was not told a topic or paper boundaries, I was now able to write how I wanted and whatever I wanted....that made me very excited (no paper limits?, no book to reflect back on?.. yes!). My struggle for the paper was reflecting on one of the worst events of life. I would have to go back to that day and write a very detailed description of what had happened and what my feelings were. I hadn't even discussed my feelings with my parents, my other friends, or even his family. I had bottled all my thoughts up and threw that out to sea in hopes that someone would hear my pain someday but just not right away.

As I sat down to write the essay I began to drift away from the actual event but instead toward my feelings from that day to the feelings I still had. It was not hard for me to start writing but it was hard for me to re-read. The page became filled with my deepest thoughts and feelings and it was hard to actually see the pain laid out in plain sit for me. The guilt I felt as I read the thoughts,  had ripped me apart....should I have written the paper as a memory to my friend, instead of a selfish rant about how his death effected me. NO! I needed this few page essay to be all about me, my feelings, my hurt, and my current situation and not about how his family felt about all of this; people were waiting for my feelings and well here they are.

How could Jeff put himself in this position again, to get in car with another careless driver, did the first two near death accidents not teach him anything? Why was the driver able to survive the accident with not a scratch but Jeff died right away? I hated Dan so much for driving so fast and in those conditions. Dan was always such a selfish person and once again his selfishness cost my best friend, a son, and a caring person his life. Why Jeff and not Dan? These were answers I knew could never be answered but I wanted to express. I filled the pages with endless questions and stories of sleepless nights. I even wrote how I used to call his old number just to hear his voice again and hoping that maybe just maybe he would pick it up. He never did and that is what was so hard how could I hear the voice of this person that is no longer there for me to see? I wrote about my fears of forgetting his voice, the smell of his cologne, and what he looked like. I was scared that if he was not on my mind all the time then I was betraying him after all that he had done for me. How could I go on living a normal life and have fun when I know he is not here to share those memories with me.  My essay came to an end and it was now time to turn it in, that Friday I walked slowly and nervously to the front of the room and put it down on the large stack of papers. The professor smiled and said, "Have a wonderful weekend." I smiled back.

Later that weekend while I was online I decided to check my school e-mail. I had an e-mail from my professor and it read "Melanie I need to talk to you about your paper please come in my office before class." Great! I had totally bombed the paper or didn't do what was asked, I just told my teacher all this private information for nothing and now she was about to rip my feelings and thoughts apart.

Monday morning came faster than I wanted. I had this ache in my chest like never before and my hands got sweaty. I reached for the doorknob and entered saying,  "You wanted to see me." She asked me to take a seat. She held my paper in her hands and made eye contact with me. She gripped the paper tighter and looked down again. I heard her sniffle and then she looked up at me again, this time with tears filling her eyes. She proceeded to tell me that Dan, the driver of the car, was her nephew. Oh great I just offended my professor by telling her I wish her careless nephew would have been in Jeff's place.  She told me that what I had written had made her mad at first but now brought her a sense of closure that she had been longing for. She told me she had always wanted to share her feelings on the event and even more than that she wanted to hear how someone from the other side felt. I thought what a small world it was that two people who had never crossed paths before now shared a life changing event together.  She told me my thoughts were beautiful and asked if I had given a copy to his family. I told her no, I did not want anyone to know my thoughts yet. She said that giving the writing would allow me to give them all my feelings with out any interruption and that is had an unlined message of my love and friendship for their son. It took many weeks before I got the courage to mail Jeff's family a copy of my paper...my most private thoughts.

This was a memory that I will never forget. I learned the power that writing can hold. I have also learned that although I can share an event with someone, the memories and feelings we both have are very different.

October 12, 2008

ENG 319

Paper #2 Final Draft

Voice is Substance....Or so I thought

Voice is substance. There is no other way to put it. One's voice should and can be heard in any style of paper that is being written. Voice is often heard in papers that reflect the interests of those who are writing but voice can also be heard in academic papers when the author includes their personal insight on the topic. A person expresses their voice by putting in their views on the issue; they do not change a style but instead use that style and give it their opinion. Voice is not a form of style. Styles are created by and can be expressed by anyone on any topic and therefore one cannot say voice is style. Voices are to be unique to one's self. Styles are used by everyone. I tried to come up with a catchy quote to start this paper that would prove to you that voice is substance. Instead what I came to discover was that all the quotes were describing voice to be a way that someone is viewed. Although all the quotes were different, they had the underlined idea that voice is substance. Voice as substance is what makes us an individual because we express ourselves through substance and that the style can be mass produced. Let me prove this to you.

Voice can be best shown when imitating another author's works. This can be done by following the author's style but putting your own beliefs on the author's topic. An example of voice as substance is my imitation of Henry G. Frankfurt's section on pages 44 to 46 in On Truth. "Personal joy is brought on by bringing pleasure to one's self. Love is a perfect example of how one brings joy to their own life. By love I do not mean the love of another person but the love of simple pleasures in life. Such as the smell of freshly picked roses or the concrete after a long hard rain storm. This love can be the love of a brand of wine or the feel of chap stick on your lips. The love of something does not have to be of the obvious things that a person thinks of but instead the simply pleasures in life that fulfill one's needs. A person who loves and lives for those little pleasures will do anything in their power to keep that joy in their life."

After completing this imitation I found that I in fact did the opposite of what I had originally thought of as voice. I had believed that voice was substance and that one can not claim style as their voice but what is said is actually a person's voice. I took a style that I am most comfortable with and imitated what someone else thought. Sure I put the other's thoughts into my own words but mine and Frankfurt's style is different. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that ideas are the things that are shared amongst people and that actually people have their own unique style. I have learned from other readings in class that all the ideas have been thought of, but my question was how does one claim those ideas then as their own?

My answer to this question is that people can have the same ideas but that they present them differently (with style) which then makes it their own ideas. Like Frankfurt and myself, we have the same ideas but our style is completely different. We believe that love is not based on the idea of loving a person but rather on the possession that we all own. I often over look the people I love because I know they will always be there through thick and thin, however I guard my possessions and love my possessions because I could lose them at any time. As for my style verses Frankfurt's...now that is a completely different story.

Frankfurt often leaves sentences open and states thoughts in a very philosophical manner. It is hard for the average reader to read his writings and understand his work, let alone his imitations of other's work because he uses his style. I like to finish a thought and put it in the simplest terms I can. Frankfurt makes you work and create your own thoughts on his writings; where I like to give you the straight forward answer and leave nothing to the imagination. This proves that two people can have same ideas but make them appear different by introducing them in their own unique styles.

This topic is a lot more difficult than I could have ever imagined. I originally went with the assumption that we all had our ideas and that style is what was imitated. Instead I have come to discover that ideas are shared and that people have their own individual style, and this is how the same ideas can be given your own voice "Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn," perfectly stated by Gore Vidal (thinkexist.com). . I finally found that catchy quote I wanted in the beginning....and this time it fits with view on voice.

Works Cited

Frankfurt, Harry G. On Truth. New York: Knopf, 2006.

Vidal, Gore. "Style Quotes." Think Exist. 21 Oct. 2008

<http://thinkexist.com/quotations/style/>.

October 12, 2008

ENG 319

Paper #2 Rough Draft

Voice is Substance....Or so I thought

            Voice is substance. There is no other way to put it. Ones voice should and can be heard in any style of paper that is being written. Voice is often heard in papers that reflect the interests of those who are writing but voice can also be heard in academic papers when the author includes their personal insight on the topic. A persons expresses their voice by putting in their views on the issue, they do not change a style but instead use that style and give it their opinion. Voice is not a form of style. Styles are created by and can be expressed by anyone on any topic and therefore one cannot say voice is style. Voices are to be unique to ones self and styles are used by everyone.

            Voice can be best shown when imitating another author's works. This can be done by following the author's style but imputing your own beliefs on the author's topic. An example of voice as substance is my imitation of Henry G. Frankfurt's section on pages 44 to 46 in On Truth. "Personal joy is brought on by bringing pleasure to ones self. Love is a perfect example of how one brings joy to their own life. By love I do not mean the love of another person but the love of simple pleasures in life; such as the smell of freshly picked roses or the concrete after a long hard rain storm. This love can be the love of a brand of wine or the feel of chap stick on your lips. The love of something does not have to be the obvious things that a person thinks of but instead the simply pleasures in life that fulfill ones needs. A person who loves and lives for those little pleasures will do anything in their power to keep that joy in their life."

            After completing this imitation I found that I in fact did the opposite of what I had originally thought of as voice. I had believed that voice was substance and that one can not claim style as their voice but what is said is actually a person's voice. I took a style that I am most comfortable with and imitated what someone else thought. Sure I put the others thoughts into my own words but mine and Frankfurt's style is different. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that ideas are the things that are shared amongst people and that actually people have their own unique style. I have learned from other readings in class that all the ideas have been thought of, but my question was how does one claim those ideas then as their own? My answer to this question is that people can have the same ideas but that they present them differently (with style) which then makes it their own ideas. Like Frankfurt and myself, we have the same ideas but our style is completely different, therefore our ideas may come across differently.  Frankfurt often leaves sentences open and states thoughts in a very philosophical manner. I like to finish a thought and put it in the simplest terms I can. Frankfurt makes you work and create your own thoughts on his writings; where I like to give you the straight forward answer and leave nothing to the imagination. This topic is a lot more difficult than I could have ever imagined. I originally went with the assumption that we all had our ideas and that style is what was imitated but instead I have come to discover that ideas are shared and that people have their own individual style is how the same ideas can be given your own voice.

September 21, 2008

ENG 319

Rough Draft #1

Students and Teachers Unite

"So let me say that we shouldn't think of ourselves as frontier guides but as managers, people who manage substations in the cultural network, small shops in general production of readers and writers." - Bartholomae

Growing up I always wanted the freedom to write however I wanted and whatever I wanted, but that was never an option. I felt we were often told what to write, how to write it, and we all sat down and came up with very similar ideas. We were trapped and there was no getting out of this writing nightmare. There was a large gap between the teacher and the student. The teacher just taught, the student just followed. The teachers ideas where important, and the students were not. However, now that I am on my way to becoming a teacher I feel that my "structured" writing was not a total waste of time nor was it purposeless. My teachers taught me grammar, sentence structure, and many more basic rules to produce a well written paper. Although we had a lack of free writing and our topics were assigned, it gave the teachers the ability to grade us on the same scale and in an equal manner. The topics were boring and we produced the same style papers for years, but we must all admit we learned tons about basic writing and that is why you cannot have a teacher-free classroom. Like Bartholomae says, "there is no writing that is writing without teachers...to hide the teacher is to hide the traces of power, tradition, and authority present at the scene of writing." And as a future teacher I want my students to understand that statement but also enjoy the writing part of their academic career so much that they will never dread writing again because my students will know how to write.

Teachers should give the students an overall background knowledge of what a proper paper looks like and the internal workings of a good solid paper. However, teachers should have no role in picking topics or judging students views and thoughts. All styles of writing should be taught to make well rounded knowledgeable individuals. A well rounded knowledgeable individual is someone who can write in any style, and can take any paper assignment and make it their own (using their voice), while still following rules like punctuation, spelling, and so on. Students should also draw on prior knowledge from readings and free writings. These readings can be anything from classic books, art work, music, news, and even the latest issue of People Magazine. We can unite as teacher and students to create works of art based on their own thoughts but still have them be well written and structured pieces. Uniting the teacher and student will not only satisfy the needs of the teacher but will satisfy the wants of the students.

How can I change my student's minds about how writing is important? How can I have them enjoy doing it, yet be able to grade them on their individual thoughts? To close this gap between student and teacher I need to not only take on the role as the teacher but also as the learner. To achieve success with my students I feel that Elbow and Bartholomae can both assist me with my teaching process. As a teacher my role can be to incorporate more free writings, writing without boundaries, and judgment. I can "remove" myself from their thoughts and let them just write. Elbow believes that the teacher should be a part of what the students are doing (by this I mean writing when they write). Although I do not plan on taking part in the writing, I do not have to give a grade on their free writes. I can do credit for completing the task but avoid shutting down their ideas, and fixing their grammar. That way as a teacher I will still have a role in my classroom but I allow my students to teach themselves. I wish for my students to want my assistance when creating their work. I yearn for them to need me to help create their work. I would like to challenge them in ways they have yet to be challenged, so when they complete these challenges they feel proud and we both can feel a sense of accomplishment. This in return will help my students create their own "works of art."I want my students to be proud of what they are writing and be influenced by my classroom techniques, so that they feel their time is worthwhile and are wanting and willing to continue the writing journey. As the learner I can find out what are current issues my students are dealing with, to help me relate better to them and overall this will help me with writing assignments and grading techniques. I will still hold authority and my power will be present; the only thing of the academy that will change is the tradition (sorry Bartholomae).

Like Elbow would say this method would not be "foolproof," but it would be a start to help close the gap between teacher and student. This would help unite the classroom better as a whole and benefit both the teacher and the student alike. Students would keep their true selves and be able to express it, and teachers will be able to be the educators and mentors of the students thought process. Both teacher and student have the ability to learn from one another and make the academy more desirable. Students can learn writing in a fun and free minded environment, and teachers can guide them to making their writing purposeful. The classroom can develop into a discourse community of its very own and one that people will be proud to be a part of. The teacher will still be present but the traditional idea of a teacher will not be so obvious. And together the teacher and the student will finally unite.

Word Count: 1,011

September 21, 2008

ENG 319

Rough Draft #1

Students and Teachers Unite

"So let me say that we shouldn't think of ourselves as frontier guides but as managers, people who manage substations in the cultural network, small shops in general production of readers and writers." - Bartholomae

Growing up I always wanted the freedom to write however I wanted and whatever I wanted, but that was never an option. I felt we were often told what to write, how to write it, and we all sat down and came up with very similar ideas. We were trapped and there was no getting out of this writing nightmare. There was a large gap between the teacher and the student. The teacher taught the student followed. The teachers ideas where important and the students were not. However, now that I am on my way to becoming a teacher I feel that my "structured" writing was not a total waste of time nor was it purposeless. My teachers taught me grammar, sentence structure, and many more basic rules to produce a well written paper. Although we had a lack of free writing and our topics were assigned it gave the teachers the ability to grade us on the same scale and in an equal manor. The topics were boring and we produced the same style papers for years, but we must all admit we learned tons and that is why you cannot have a teacher free classroom. Like Bartholomae says, "there is no writing that is writing without teachers...to hide the teacher is to hide the traces of power, tradition, and authority present at the scene of writing." And as a future teacher I want my students to understand that but also enjoy the writing part of their academic career.

How can I change my student's minds about how writing is important? How can I have them enjoy doing it, yet be able to grade them on their individual thoughts? I will need to not only take on the role as the teacher but also as the learner. To achieve success with my students I feel that Elbow and Bartholomae can both assist me with my teaching process. As a teacher my role can be to incorporate more free writings, writing without boundaries, and judgment. I can "remove" myself from their thoughts and let them just write. Elbow believes that the teacher should be a part of what the students are doing (by this I mean writing when they write). Although I do not plan on taking part in the writing, I do not have to give a thru grade on their free writes. I can do credit for completing the task but avoid shutting down their ideas, and fixing their grammar. That way as a teacher I will still have a role in my classroom but I allow my students to teach themselves. I will still hold authority and my power will be present but the only thing of the academy that will change is the tradition (sorry Bartholomae).

Teachers should give the students an overall background knowledge of what a proper paper looks like and the internal workings of a good solid paper. However, teachers should have no role in picking topics or judging students views and thoughts. Many styles of writing should be taught to make well rounded knowledgeable individuals. Students should also draw on prior knowledge from readings and free writings. These readings can be anything from classic books, art work, music, news, and even the latest issue of People Magazine. We can unite as teacher and students to create works of art based on their own thoughts but still have them be well written and structured pieces.

Like Elbow would say this method would not be "foolproof," but it would be a start to help close the gap between teacher and student. Both teacher and student have the ability to learn from one another and make the academy more desirable. Students can learn writing in a fun and free minded environment, and teachers can guide them to making their writing purposeful. The classroom can develop into a discourse community of its very own and one that people will be proud to be a part of. The teacher will still be present but the traditional idea of a teacher will not be so obvious.