Monday, September 29, 2014

Response to "Technology and LIteracy: A Story about the Perils of Not Paying Attention"

In your reading responses, articulate your position regarding Selfe’s central claims. To support this position, underline at least 5 sentences in Selfe’s chapter and explain how these sentences support your position. In addition, underline an ambiguous sentence or paragraph or one about which you would like additional information. Last, generate 1-2 questions for class discussion.


Selfe is talking about the intergration of technology, that is, computers, into the public school system.  She's writing in 1999, so this article is a bit outdated.  Apparently there was some law under Clinton that was really excited about putting computers into all of the classrooms.  Selfe points out that, although that sounds peachy on the surface, there are actually some serious problems.  "Computers continue to be distributed differently along the related axes of race and socioeconomic status and this distribution contributes to ongoing patterns of racism and to the continuation of poverty" Although some of the facts and statistics she gives are outdated, the general principle still, I think, is true. The main point of her article is that educators, specifically English teachers, are not really aware of how these social trends are playing out in their classrooms. "If written language and literacy practices are our professional business, so is technology." She points out how technology is polarizing the teaching profession, "we divide ourselves into two perfectly meaningless camps - those who use computers to teach classes and those who don't". She them says why this is a problem for everyone "Both groups feel virtuous about their choices and both manage to lose sight of the real issue" which is that no on is noticing how this technology has affected them. Selfe also says that many people subscribe to the "'literacy myth', a widely held belief that literacy and literacy education lead autonomously, automatically, and directly to liberation, personal success, or economic prosperity". After reading that, I realized that I was in that category. One thing that she says that doesn't exactly make sense to me is that "by paying critical attention to lessons about technology, we can re-learn important lessons about literacy." And now for some class discussion: 1) How do you think this situation described by Selfe has changed since 1999? 2) Do you think that this issue still exists? To what extent?

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Baby's First Resume (formatting got very wonky in the transfer from MS Word, also the linkedin link is not pretty)

this is for my Writing for the Workplace class, and it's tailored to an internship opportunity with The Environmental Magazine that sounds pretty much what I'd like to do for a paycheck.

Kayleigh McKay
kmckay2@ithaca.edu                                                                                    linkedin.com/profile/view?id=370174726&trk=
(585) 831-6472                                                                                                           1256 Heather Lane, Victor, NY, 14564

Education

Ithaca College, Ithaca, NY                                                                                                              2016
            Completing Bachelor of Arts in Writing from Ithaca College School of Humanities and Sciences
            Completing Minor in English
            GPA: 3.253
Finger Lakes Community College                                                                                                 2012
            Completed Forty-Eight credits through a high school exchange program
Victor Senior High School                                                                                                              2012
            Regents Degree with Advanced Designation
Relevant Coursework
Ithaca College
            Argument: B-                                                                                                                       2013
                        Researched current events on the Internet
                        Critically analyzed texts
                        Studied rhetoric and methods of argument
                        Wrote compelling argumentative essays centered on current events
            Religion and Nature: Ongoing                                                                                           2014
                        Reading scholarship on current environmental issues
                        Critically analyzing historical and socio-economic causes of environmental issues
                        Discussing methods for instigating change among the general population
            Introduction to the Essay: A-                                                                                             2013
                        Studied and practiced various types of essays
                        Wrote literary, investigative, analytical and experimental essays
Finger Lakes Community College
            Environmental Crisis                                                                                                          2012
                        Studied the local ecology
                        Gained a broad knowledge base about environmental issues and proposed solutions
                        Generated analytical arguments about current environmental issues               
Related Experience
Writer, Kitsch Magazine, Cornell University & Ithaca College, student run publication              2013
                Emulated the voice and style of the publication
            Met deadlines
            Researched topics on the Internet
Writer, Buzzsaw, Ithaca College, student run publication                                                              2014
            Emulated the voice and style of the publication
            Met deadlines
            Researched topics on the Internet

            Interviewed students for statements

Revised Literacy Narrative

It really bugged me that the class interpreted my voice as being one of apathy towards my own writing career.  I've attempted to keep my own blunt style while humanizing myself a little more. I also tried to bring in some select words that should focus the readers more towards an Brandt-style analysis of my literacy experience. Hopefully it works.
Again, this is my intellectual property and if anyone steals it bad things will happen.


I guess I got into writing because no one had written the specific stories I had wanted to read.  I remember wishing when I was about thirteen, that I could just watch my own thoughts in my head like a movie.  It seems like I’ve got stories inside of me that I just really want to experience, and I have no other alternative than to write them myself.  I’ve heard other writers talk about how their stories take a hold of their brain and rattle around until they are exorcised in print, like demons of the imagination.  That’s not the case with me.  My characters don’t torture me, they are my toys, my vehicles for escape and self-expression.  When the going gets rough it’s easy to slip your mind into a different skin and exert energy on their problems, things that can’t possibly hurt me.
            What I’m really talking about here is fiction writing—apparently that’s what’s most near and dear to me.  It seems more genuine in a way, less presumptuous than creative non-fiction (which I do like if I’m feeling chatty), more coherent than poetry, and less boring than regular non-fiction.  When I think of “writing” I think of storytelling.
            I am engaged in a multi-media storytelling experience.  I draw pictures of my characters, pick out certain songs that go along with their stories, I think of colors and aesthetic notions that belong with certain stories.  For example, my serial-killer story (think Mickey & Mallory Knox) has serious psychological leanings in the narrative, is red and grey and black, and goes along with Marilyn Manson.  If it was a movie, it would have a patched-together documentary feel.
            I feel like I have the potential to explore my stories in all these media, it’s just that some are more challenging and practical than others.
            I probably would be an actor if I had the self-confidence.  I would probably direct movies or TV if I had the social skills to coordinate that many people without my head exploding, or the desire to learn nit-picky things about cameras.  I’d be a painter if I had the patience to learn advanced techniques or the money to spend on supplies.  Writing is the easiest tool I have to get my stories out there.  Not necessarily for other people (recognition is nice), but probably just for myself.
            I don’t adore language, I’ve never opened a dictionary of my own volition before, the musicality of poetry doesn’t send me into thralls of literary ecstasy.  I missed that memo, I just don’t get it.  But, somehow, I’ve never really worried if I’m in the wrong profession.

            I’ve had a pretty non-challenging literacy experience.  The McKays—my father’s line—are almost all engaged in creative activities, most commonly writing.  They’ve published books of poetry and memoir.  I didn’t learn about that until I started sharing bits of my writing with my father, so it’s not like I felt I had to follow in anyone’s footsteps.  I was just going my own way, and then I found out that many of my ancestors have gone the same way.  That’s a nice feeling; maybe writing is in our genes.
            Nobody's ever told me that I can't write or that I shouldn't write.  That's probably why I'm still here.  My parents never told me that I'd never be able to support myself with a B.A. in Writing, they just encourage, heavily hint, and otherwise pester me to look into journalism and technical writing.  They know that I'm not cut out for that starving artist shtick.
            We have the money to send me off to school to learn a skill that doesn’t provide an instant financial payoff (or perhaps any payoff).  I was expected to go to college, so I was groomed in the public school system so that I could become a good candidate for acceptance.  There was a prestige level that I wanted—if I had really tried, or tried at all—a fancy name on my diploma would’ve been nice.  I would never have wound up at some underfunded community college.  I was always expected to aim higher than that.  I’m not sure how far I’ve actually gone.  It’s hard to see yourself as attending a prestigious school when you share the TCAT with kids from Cornell.  Maybe my perception of IC is colored by that.  I’m not sure. 
            Anyway, I’ve had a supportive family, and that’s a big deal.  They read me bedtime stories, gave me art supplies and music lessons.  It’s important not to get a raison d’etre stomped out of you when you’re growing up.  They never forced me back into sports after I said I didn’t like the competition of a soccer game—I was in kindergarten, and far  more likely to watch a butterfly float above the grass than to pay attention to where the ball was.  They never forced me back into ballet lessons at the local YMCA after I decided I didn’t like that either.  Music lessons though, were non-negotiable.  I actually never asked why.  Maybe because it was the practicing that I really had a problem with—the act itself, of playing music, was fun. 

            My high school was okay.  They did their jobs in getting me tons of college credit before I even graduated, I took AP courses and tests, got an Advanced Designation Regents degree, and blah, blah, blah.  It’s the same old college rat-race.
            I had room for electives, sort of—at the expense of my only study hall.  I took Orchestra and Art, all four years.  I continued French because it would look good to colleges.  I had always wanted to take the half-semester Creative Writing course that our high school offered.  There was never any room in my schedule for it—the resource existed, but it was always a little bit out of reach.  I remember my mother telling me that if I took all these courses in high school that I’d be able to take whatever I wanted in college.  She was right. 
            The kids in that Creative Writing class were the ones who decided what got in to the high school Lit. Mag.  I really wanted to be in the Lit. Mag.  I had a vision of teachers’ smiles as they finally were presented with some writing that I cared about, something that had a piece of soul in it.
            I submitted some poems.  A set of three versions of the same poem, a triptych.  I mixed visual art and poetry and also old-timey vampires.  I thought it was a genius idea. 
            I never got published.  That stung.  I went back to them and asked for the copies of my pieces they’d need for review back.  I don’t remember if I cried—I think I just got pissed.  Looking back, I think that they didn’t got what I was trying to do.  Maybe they didn’t like vampires that weren’t love-struck and sparkly.  They did however, like angsty poetry about the problems of being a teenager that hinges on an extended metaphor about grocery shopping.  I thought it was a boring, whiney poem.
            I’m not bitter.
            Anyways, so that was my only experience with creative writing in high school and it was thoroughly disappointing.
            So I came, full of hope, to IC.  I’m here because it’s fairly local, and it has a Writing Department.  I didn’t even know that those existed until I found the one here.  At the other colleges I could’ve gone to, Creative Writing was a sad subset of the English major, or it didn’t exist.  So, in the end, my college choice, the big agonizing choice was a no-brainer. 
            Now I’m here, and now I have the best example of how undernourished my writing knowledge actually was.  When I got into Intro to the Essay (which I only took because it’s required) I learned about the existence of the Creative Non-fiction genre. 
            Wait, what?  Non-fiction isn’t just boring book-documentaries?  There is a world outside of textbooks?  Nobody had told me that essays weren’t anything different than the crappy things we wrote in English class, or in frantic, formulaic brain-dumps on Important Tests.
                Totally blew my mind.  Completely changed my idea of what writing is, and can be.  That’s probably what smacks me in the face as the biggest thing I’ve quantifiably learned in college.  There are, of course, lots of other things, but I find that learning a craft is a more amoeba-like process.  You extend tiny tendrils of understanding out into the world.  Or they connect things that previously didn’t seem related.  I’ve been a student for almost as long as I can remember and I’ve only just realized that I have never really thought about what true learning—not just information memorization—really is. 


I have no idea why the font changed.  I've attempted to fix it, but it's not working.

Job Description (that I created based on a position announcement) for Class

This is my intellectual property, and bad things will happen to he who steals this.
This was created for my Writing for the Workplace class, in which we are selecting a position to "anchor" our portfolio of credentials.
(that picture is  just a logo, it may not show up in the post)

http://images.emagazine.com/main/eLogoNewd.jpg The Environmental Magazine


Editorial Intern

Salary: Unpaid, Possible Course Credit
Location: Remote (?)
Reports to: Editor
Send Resume, Cover Letter & Writing Sample: Brita Belli, Editor, brita@emagazine.com
Position Overview:
“A valuable first step for many young environmental journalists”, interns work independently to research, interview, revise, fact-check, solicit photographs, and to produce publishable work.

Specific Duties:
·         Writing editorial content
·         Researching editorial content
·         Fact-checking content
·         Updating content on E’s website
·         Updating content on E’s social media pages
·         Web research
·         Proofreading layouts
·         Assisting editorial staff with special projects
·         Assisting with photo research as needed


Qualifications:
·         Excellent writing and proofreading skills
·         Strong interest in environmental issues
·         Strong Internet research skills
·         Ability to meet deadlines
·         Ability to work effectively on a team
·         Familiarity with Microsoft Office
·         Undergraduate experience in English or a related field



Has Anyone Ever Just Asked? [Chimpanzee Religion]

This paper is my own intellectual property and if I catch you stealing it for use as your own work bad things will happen to you.  This short paper recieved an 83% in my Religion & Nature class.  

Has Anyone Ever Just Asked?


            The question of chimpanzee religion is one that, if answered, has ramifications across many different fields of study.  Jane Goodall, in her 2005 encyclopedia entry, Primate Spirituality, thinks that their behavior in certain situations indicates that they do have some sort of primitive religious inclinations.  James B. Harrod agrees; after first creating a definition of religion that can be transferred across the species, Harrod examines reported chimpanzee practices, both in captivity and in the wild, and finds that they do indeed correspond to his trans-species definition (Harrod).  It is now up to researchers from a wide range of disciplines to investigate. 
            The possible avenues of research are endless, since almost no research has been done before.  A possible method that may yield results is to attempt direct communication with members of the chimpanzee species.  It is fairly common knowledge that Washoe the chimpanzee, raised in captivity, was able to learn about three hundred fifty different signs.  If chimpanzees can be raised like she was then maybe could be able to communicate in an effective way like Washoe, perhaps even be able to convey abstract ideas. 
            They may exhibit some of the same religious behaviors that Harrod describes in his article, The Case for Chimpanzee Religion.  In the conclusion of that same article, Harrod says that those behaviors are “biological ritualizations of instincts”, (Harrod) which implies that since every chimpanzee has the same basic instincts, therefore they must have, to some degree, a similar set of inclinations towards religion.  They may all feel the need to announce something strange and threatening, or to fall silent in a sort of awestruck way when experiencing the emotion of wonder (Harrod). 
            Perhaps I have made my argument too simple, I do not intend to express the relative ease with which such communication may take place.  Most likely, it is next to impossible.  Teaching another species how to communicate with humans about something that we see through such an anthropocentric lens will be extremely challenging.  Harrod’s definition of religion, and perhaps others that may follow, must be at the center of these discussions.  Chimpanzees would also have to be taught words and concepts in such a way as to interfere as minimally as possible with their subsequent communication.  A trans-species definition is the only option that could currently work.  We would have to begin by asking them about their behaviors in abnormal situations.  For example, if a fellow chimpanzee has died, and the rest are let in to pay last respects like in the situation Harrod describes at the New York University lab, researches should ask the animals about their behavior (Harrod).  For example, in the NYU case dealing with death rites, “WHY DID YOU OPEN PABLO’S EYES?” may prompt an informative response.  “WHY WERE YOU SILENT AFTER THE SCREAMING?” could be another question, this time aimed at Harrod’s case in the Arnhem Zoo (Harrod).  This avoids the issue of having to teach chimpanzees the meaning of the word death, and thus lets them come up with a less influenced answer than if humans were to teach chimpanzees about death and then asked them what they thought about it.
            Humanity has a long way to go to understand the other animals that live on Earth with us, but maybe the journey isn’t as long as it seems.  Maybe we could just ask them.


 
 
Works Cited
 
Harrod, James B. "The Case for Chimpanzee Religion." Journal for the Study of Religion,                  Nature, and Culture 8.1 (2014): n. pag. EquinoxOnline. Web. 12 Sept. 2014. 
 

Harrod, James B. "A Trans-Species Definition of Religion." Journal for the Study of    Religion,                Nature and Culture 5.3 (2011): n. pag. Equinox Online. Web. 12 Sept. 2014. 

An Examination of Diction in Robert Frost's "Design"

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.


If you want to hear this poem read aloud, go here.  
So, as I always say, this piece is my intellectual property and if I catch anyone nabbing it for use as their own I'm going to be angry.  This paper received an A- in my Intro to Poetry course.  Seriously, don't steal this.

“Design”, by Robert Frost, is a nuanced and multi-layered piece of work.  At first glance, it seems to be fairly straightforward and innocent, but if one inspects the poem on a word-by-word level, a darker undertone begins to show itself.  The poem is organized into an extremely ambiguous octave that describes a scene in nature as viewed by the speaker, a passerby.  This is followed by a sestet that is comprised of deep questions that rapidly expand outward and, ultimately, challenge our perceptions of the world itself.  Frost makes expert use of the positive or negative connotations of individual words in order to suggest a more sinister worldview.
            The first line of “Design”, “I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,” is fairly pleasant.  The choice of the words “dimpled,” “fat” and “white” make it so.  “Fat” evokes images of bountiful food and jollity, “dimpled” is associated with children’s faces and people’s smiles, “white” is associated with purity, cleanliness, and light.  Line two continues in much the same way, “On a white heal-all, holding up a moth”.  The image of “holding up a moth” appears to be a supportive sort of action, one that seems positive—at least in the way that it is described.  When the speaker describes that the spider and moth both exist on the top of a plant, he is very specific about the type of plant; a “heal-all”, a common herbal remedy.  This specification is another positive image, blatantly using connections with healing and repair.  “White” is repeated, and it still carries all for the positive weight from the first line, although now it’s colored slightly differently than it was before.  A quick trip to an encyclopedia or online search engine will inform readers that a “heal-all” is a blue-violet flower.  Now the repetition of “white” takes on a different hue—the “heal-all” plant that the speaker is observing is not its natural color, most likely, the cause of this is a disease of some sort.  In just two words Frost has provided a twist of irony; the “heal-all” cannot heal itself.  This is the first of many such nuances that occur in “Design”.  Line three repeats “white” for the third time “Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth” and, by tying in the “rigid satin cloth” image, has described the material of the average wedding gown.  There’s a positive image for the moth’s relationship to the spider.  But with the addition of the word “rigid” Frost has given the situation a contradictory feel.  “Rigid” may be referring to the stiffness of the limbs that occurs in corpses, that is, rigor mortis
            Things take a turn for the worst in line four, with “assorted characters of death and blight”.  “Death” is obviously filled with negative connotations, as well as “blight”, or disease.  Line five continues the same imagery, “Mixed ready to begin the morning right”.  The word “mixed” especially after following “death and blight” brings to mind images of a witch’s cauldron and all the supposedly foul things brewed there.  The phrase “ready to being the morning right” at first sounds like a commercial for orange juice, evoking images of sunrise and happy families gathered around a kitchen table.  Both the words “morning” and “right” are, however, homophones—when read aloud, the phrase could just as easily be understood as “ready to being the mourning rite”, as in practices of grief.  In the sixth line of “Design”, the idea of witchcraft is stated outright “like the ingredients of a witches’ broth—”, however, the word “broth” has some positive connotations associated with it.  “Broth” is like the chicken soup to be eaten when one has a cold, a common folk remedy, like the heal-all plant.  “A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,” in line seven, repeat the white imagery again, with the “snow-drop” imagery.  Snow is pure and white, but it also only occurs in the wintertime which is heavily associated with death and barrenness. “A flower like a froth” is a puzzling simile, but a possible conclusion is that it refers to the foaming-at-the-mouth exhibited in rabid animals, implying that the discolored flower is diseased like a rabid animal.  Frost ends the octave with “And dead wings carried like a paper kite.”  The phrase “dead wings” has a negative connotation since it implies a death of the freedom that is commonly associated with winged creatures—this also is the prelude to the questioning tone that fills the sestet.  “Paper kite” is the final evocation of the innocence imagery so prevalent in the opening of “Design”, with images of children at play.
            The first two lines of the sestet are the same idea, “What had that flower to do with being white,/the wayside blue and innocent heal-all?”, with the second line behaving like an adjective, modifying “flower” from the previous line.  The speaker is now deconstructing the description he just gave in a search for some explanation or greater meaning.  The next two lines “What brought the kindred spider to that height?/Then steered the white moth thither in the night?” as similar sorts of questions.  The speaker seems unconvinced that he has stumbled upon a mere coincidence, he is determined to make sense of the small spectacle he has been witness to.  Frost brings back the “white” imagery in the sestet’s fifth line by punning on the word “appall”, “What but design of darkness to appall?—” “Appall” means to horrify, or, more specifically, to turn white with fear, since it is linked to the word ‘pallor’, which is a white color of the flesh, commonly associated with death. 
            The poem ends with another turn of the screw; throughout the poem, Frost has been hinting at some dark agenda at work in the natural events described, but then in the last line he gives readers this: “If design govern in a thing so small.”  He writes his audience into a corner, presented with only two disheartening conclusions.  Either that dark forces are at work in seemingly random moments in our lives deliberately constructing horrifying spectacles.  Or that no such forces exist at all, that “design” does not govern things as insignificant as human experience, or the death of a moth, or the sickness of a healing flower, or the luck of a spider. 

            By a careful and precise choice of diction in “Design” Robert Frost has managed to create a heavily ambiguous poem.  On a cursory reading, it seems to be merely about a strange coincidence that the speaker has been part of, but as soon as the words themselves are dissected, a much deeper, philosophical question arises.  The poem seems to be asking its readers the deeply troubling questions; ‘what if the world doesn’t work the way we thought it did?’, and most problematic of all, ‘what if there isn’t any design at all?’

Monday, September 22, 2014

Feedback on literacy narrative

how did I find out that writing was my thing
   context
"I don't give a shit"???
   has being passive worked for me?
   I need to be vulnerable in the piece
talk more about creative nonfiction
   am I happy with my choice of IC?
brandt - use a voice
why do I want to tell stories?
   do others need them?
   do I need them to get out?


Sunday, September 21, 2014

Literacy Narrative Draft (I Mean Rant)

I guess I got into writing because no one had written the specific stories I had wanted to read.  That’s probably why I’m still here.  It seems like I’ve got stories inside of me that I just really want to experience, and I have no other alternative than to write them myself. 
            What I’m really talking about here is fiction writing—apparently that’s what’s most near and dear to me.  It seems more genuine in a way, less presumptuous than creative non-fiction (which I do like if I’m feeling chatty), more coherent than poetry, and less boring than regular non-fiction.  When I think of “writing” I think of storytelling.
            I probably would be an actor if I had the self-confidence.  I would probably direct movies or TV if I had the social skills to coordinate that many people without my head exploding, or the desire to learn nit-picky things about cameras.  I’d be a painter, if I had the patience to learn advanced techniques or the money to spend on supplies.  Writing is the easiest tool I have to get my stories out there.  Not necessarily for other people (recognition is nice), but probably just for myself.
            I don’t adore language, I’ve never opened a dictionary of my own volition before, the musicality of poetry doesn’t send me into thralls of literary ecstasy.  I missed that memo, I just don’t get it.

            Nobody's ever told me that I can't write or that I shouldn't write.  That's probably why I'm still here.  My parents never told me that I'd never be able to support myself with a B.A. in Writing, they just encourage, heavily hint, and otherwise pester me to look into journalism and technical writing.  They know that I'm not cut out for that starving artist shtick.
            We have the money to send me off to school to learn a skill that doesn’t provide an instant financial payoff (or perhaps any payoff).  I was expected to go to college, so I was groomed in the public school system so that I could become a good candidate for acceptance.  There was a prestige level—if I had really tried, or tried at all—a fancy name on my diploma would’ve been nice.  It’s hard to see yourself as attending a prestigious school when you share the TCAT with kids from Cornell.  Maybe IC is nicer than I think it is.  I’m not sure. 
            Anyway, I’ve had a supportive family, and that’s a big deal.  It’s important not to get a raison d’etre stomped out of you when you’re growing up.
            My high school was okay.  They did their jobs in getting me tons of college credit before I even graduated, I took AP courses and tests, got an Advanced Designation Regents degree, and blah, blah, blah.  It’s the same old college rat-race.
            I had room for electives, sort of—at the expense of my only study hall.  I took Orchestra and Art, all four years.  I continued French because it would look good to colleges.  I had always wanted to take the half-semester Creative Writing course that our high school offered.  The kids in that class were the ones who decided what got in to the high school Lit. Mag. something I really wanted.  There was never any room in my schedule for it. 
            But I submitted some poems.  A set of three versions of the same poem, a triptych.  I mixed visual art and poetry and also old-timey vampires.  I thought it was a genius idea.  I never got published.  Looking back, I think that they didn’t got what I was trying to do.  Maybe they didn’t like vampires that weren’t love-struck and sparkly.  They did however, like angsty poetry about the problems of being a teenager that hinges on an extended metaphor about grocery shopping.  I thought it was a boring, whiney poem.
            I’m not bitter.
            Anyways, so that was my only experience with creative writing in high school and it was thoroughly disappointing. 
            So I came to IC.  I’m here because it’s fairly local, and it has a Writing Department.  I didn’t even know that those existed until I found the one here.  At the other colleges I could’ve gone to, Creative Writing was a sad subset of the English major, or it didn’t exist.  So, in the end, my college choice, the big agonizing choice was a no-brainer. 
            Now I’m here, and now I have the best example of how undernourished my writing knowledge actually was.  When I got into Intro to the Essay (which I only took because it’s required) I learned about the existence of the Creative Non-fiction genre. 
            Wait, what?  Non-fiction isn’t just boring book-documentaries?  There is a world outside of textbooks?  Nobody had told me that essays weren’t anything different than the crappy things we wrote in English class, or in frantic, formulaic brain-dumps on Important Tests.
            Totally blew my mind.  Completely changed my idea of what writing is, and can be. 
           
            I feel like ending on a happy note.  Look forward to seeing y’all in class!
Questions for review:
-Should Brandt be explicitly in here?
-I’m not too ramble-y am I?
-Where do you want more?

My literacy narrative is coming! I promise

just wanted to do more work on it after hearing class discussions this week.

UPDATE: got called into work, and then lost half of my piece because I was typing it out on blogger which saves every few minutes and I somehow hit the wrong key.
I'm so happy

UPDATE 2.0:
I did it. Now I'm actually happy.
 this is me #nofilter
I'm so majestic.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Kayleigh's Literacy Map(ish)

Map of the Event of Learning What an Essay Is

I like long titles

They're funny


What were the economic/political conflicts or contexts? 
I am a middle-class American, white, living in a fairly wealthy area of Upstate New York.  I attend a private university, and am able to pursue the education that I want.  Clearly there's a money thing going on here.  Not everyone can afford to be here.  Not everyone can afford to have the leisure time to cultivate and pursue a love of reading and writing like I have.  

Who were their sponsors? 
My sponsors are: 
-my family, paying for my tuition and all those ridiculous expenses
-the program I'm enrolled in at IC (Writing program)
-my professor for that class, Catherine Taylor
-me, for being involved in class (doing my homework so that I actually learned things)

What literacies were valued? 
Craft was important, that is, grammar and having understandable sentences.  
Exciting things: 
-Creativity, expression, lyrical writing, storytelling. 
 

How was it learned? 
In class................................duh................
  
We read examples of essays, sometimes based on their structure (braided, segmented, etc), or just essays that were good.  Sometimes they were totally out there and made sense only in a strange, aesthetic sort of way.  An Anne Carson essay comes to mind - something about an eclipse.

What resources were available? 
My professor, the  other students in the class, our textbook The Next American Essay (I think?), the Writing Center, our Sakai site.

Who provided these resources? 
These were Ithaca College resources that only were available to me because I (my family) paid a large amount of money to be here.

How difficult was it to access these resources?
Not very hard at all.  Well, getting enough money to pay the tuition is hard, but once you've paid you're in.  They'll tell you about the writing center every class, professors are required to have office hours, and the idea is that everyone is going to help you out because we're one happy family.  Or an exclusive club.