I feel that this class has improved my writing over the course of this semester. This is not to say that I felt that I was a bad writer before this class, it just opened up new ways of writing to me. I had never before thought about writing as molding content and form, I always thought of essays as a piece of literature that is just there to be written and read, not so much being an active, engaging piece of writing.
I feel like this class has made a significant impact on me as a writer, it has, as I stated above, changed the way I view writing, but has also made me think outside of the box. When I approach a writing assignment now I look at all of the different approaches that I could take on the assignment, whether it be a more observational or more reflective approach, I see writing as a more active task now, not just an assignment. I don’t see myself a as a writer that is just going to start writing down random thoughts when I have them, I will probably just stick to writing for assignments, but I do think that I have improved as a writer.
I realized that when I write a paper I don’t start out with the introduction and then work through the conclusion, rather I start out in the middle with my main points and then go back and write my introduction and conclusion. I find that it is easier for me to write reflectively because it is my own thoughts and feelings.
Doing peer reviews definitely helps to improve my writing. Sometimes after staring at the piece of writing that I have worked on for a long time it’s hard to find mistakes and flaws, until someone else points them out. Having suggestions for your writing help, because sometimes you have a writer’s block and those suggestions really help you out and get you back on track. Not only do the peer reviews help out tremendously, but so does meeting with my professor. Sometimes I am confused as to what exactly the parameters of my writing are, and meeting with my professor definitely helps to clarify this.
“Good writing,” to me is one that effectively translates the author’s point to the audience. It really depends on what the authors stand point is and what type of writing they are working with. I really do not like rhetorical writing, I still am a little confused on what it is, and therefore would not be a good judge of what good rhetorical writing is.
I actually have used my knowledge that I learned in class and applied them to other papers that I was assigned. I can easily recognize the different types of writing now. I think that this class really has made me a better writer overall and will help me in the future.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Graduation Gift
For my graduation I received lots of gifts, ranging from a vacuum cleaner to a miniature trash can, to the standard congratulations, we are so proud of you, card. Out of all these gifts, there was the one gift that I will forever keep with me, the gift that my Grandmother Rentschler gave me, my cozy quilt.
The quilt is pink with black forming the star pattern that makes up the quilt. In the center of the black stars is a white panel with words of wisdom on each block. The back of the quilt has a crazy pink and black material that keeps the plainness of the back interesting. On the bottom right hand corner, there is a very small label stitched that reads “Made with Love by Grandma.” The edge of the quilt is lined by two inches of black material with dainty white polka dots on it. The black material that makes the stars comes from various scraps of cloth, some of the black cloth was used to make a dress for my Mom when my Great-grandma died, and some was used to make the black undershirts that my uncles wore to their proms. The quilt is a mixture of old and new cloth that meshes together to create one blanket.
Looking at the quilt is always inspiring to me with the words of wisdom that are always useful in time of need. The blanket can warm me both physically and emotionally. Wrapping it around me I can almost feel the love that my Grandma put into making this gift for me. I will always be able to take this useful and sentimental gift with me no matter where I go in life.
The quilt is pink with black forming the star pattern that makes up the quilt. In the center of the black stars is a white panel with words of wisdom on each block. The back of the quilt has a crazy pink and black material that keeps the plainness of the back interesting. On the bottom right hand corner, there is a very small label stitched that reads “Made with Love by Grandma.” The edge of the quilt is lined by two inches of black material with dainty white polka dots on it. The black material that makes the stars comes from various scraps of cloth, some of the black cloth was used to make a dress for my Mom when my Great-grandma died, and some was used to make the black undershirts that my uncles wore to their proms. The quilt is a mixture of old and new cloth that meshes together to create one blanket.
Looking at the quilt is always inspiring to me with the words of wisdom that are always useful in time of need. The blanket can warm me both physically and emotionally. Wrapping it around me I can almost feel the love that my Grandma put into making this gift for me. I will always be able to take this useful and sentimental gift with me no matter where I go in life.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Christmas Angel
Every year, two weeks before Christmas, it’s my family’s tradition to get together and put up our Christmas tree in the living room after supper. After haggling over the lights and various other ornaments that are placed on our tree that particular year, it’s time for the most important part of the tree, the angel topper.
My brother, Dad and I gather around my Mom as she carefully lifts the angel out of the box and gently unwraps it from the obscene amount of bubble wrap and tissue paper that protect the fragile angel. She gently hands it to me and I pass it to my brother who gives it to my Dad who stands on a chair and hoists the angel to the top of the tree where she will remain until after Christmas.
Our angel is very old and has been passed from my great-grandmother to my grandma and finally to my mom. The wings are white ceramic and very detailed. Through the years the angel has managed to somehow avoid major falls, and only has one small chip on the left wing right at the tip. On top of the ceramic wings there are downy, pure white feathers that add softness to the cold and hardness of the ceramic. Her face is a creamy ivory with a perfect little nose and rosy cheeks and lips. Her eyes are closed and her dainty hands held together in front of her body in a praying position. A slight smile plays about her lips almost giving her a look of hopefulness or waiting for something great to come. From her dress stream four lengths of sheer white fabric that trail down about six inches longer than the hem of her dress.
The angel forms a lovely aura over our adorned tree. Without this angel it just wouldn’t be Christmas. After we are finished decorating the tree and the angel has been placed at the top, we all stand back and observe our work. The angel is always what attracts my attention and every year it seems as if I notice some new detail about it that I had never before noticed. Without this angel, our tree just wouldn’t be complete.
My brother, Dad and I gather around my Mom as she carefully lifts the angel out of the box and gently unwraps it from the obscene amount of bubble wrap and tissue paper that protect the fragile angel. She gently hands it to me and I pass it to my brother who gives it to my Dad who stands on a chair and hoists the angel to the top of the tree where she will remain until after Christmas.
Our angel is very old and has been passed from my great-grandmother to my grandma and finally to my mom. The wings are white ceramic and very detailed. Through the years the angel has managed to somehow avoid major falls, and only has one small chip on the left wing right at the tip. On top of the ceramic wings there are downy, pure white feathers that add softness to the cold and hardness of the ceramic. Her face is a creamy ivory with a perfect little nose and rosy cheeks and lips. Her eyes are closed and her dainty hands held together in front of her body in a praying position. A slight smile plays about her lips almost giving her a look of hopefulness or waiting for something great to come. From her dress stream four lengths of sheer white fabric that trail down about six inches longer than the hem of her dress.
The angel forms a lovely aura over our adorned tree. Without this angel it just wouldn’t be Christmas. After we are finished decorating the tree and the angel has been placed at the top, we all stand back and observe our work. The angel is always what attracts my attention and every year it seems as if I notice some new detail about it that I had never before noticed. Without this angel, our tree just wouldn’t be complete.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The Pearl Ring
My pearl ring has survived for twenty-five years, through a natural disaster, years of games of little kids dress-up, and restoration. The ring is a silver band on the top there are two pearls situated diagonally from each other. Two diamond hearts sit next to the two pearls forming an alternating square of pearl, diamond, pearl, diamond. The silver band that the jewels perch on is worn from years of abuse and a great need for cleaning. The pearls themselves show signs of age and one is whiter than its twin. The place where the diamonds are set has traces of residue from being left on while the wearer was washing, working with, or putting lotion on their hands. In appearance the ring itself is not that fabulous, but the history of it is what makes the ring important.
Twenty-five years ago, the pearl ring was given to my Mother by my Dad. Three years after my Mom was given the pearl, it was replaced by a diamond wedding band and put in a jewelry box. Not too long after they were too busy chasing kids to even care about frivolous things like rings. Then one day something terrible happened, the house that we lived in was hit by a tornado. The house was completely destroyed along with most of our things. Neighbors came from everywhere to help pick up the debris, and somewhere in the midst of all of the rubble, one of the neighbors found the pearl ring. It was missing the pearls but everything else was in tact. When our new house was built, the ring went into the play room where I frequently used it during my hours and hours of dress-up games.
When my days of dress-up were over, the ring went back to my Mother’s jewelry box, and I forgot about it for a long time. Until one Christmas, there was a small box under the tree with my name on it. On Christmas Eve, when we opened presents, the small box was the last one that I opened. As I unwrapped a jewelry box I was somewhat confused why they had gotten me a ring. But when I took out the ring the days of dress-up came rushing back in my mind. The pearls had been replaced and the ring was shiny after its cleaning. I now have the ring that reminds me to always keep a little bit of the kid that I was with me at all times.
Twenty-five years ago, the pearl ring was given to my Mother by my Dad. Three years after my Mom was given the pearl, it was replaced by a diamond wedding band and put in a jewelry box. Not too long after they were too busy chasing kids to even care about frivolous things like rings. Then one day something terrible happened, the house that we lived in was hit by a tornado. The house was completely destroyed along with most of our things. Neighbors came from everywhere to help pick up the debris, and somewhere in the midst of all of the rubble, one of the neighbors found the pearl ring. It was missing the pearls but everything else was in tact. When our new house was built, the ring went into the play room where I frequently used it during my hours and hours of dress-up games.
When my days of dress-up were over, the ring went back to my Mother’s jewelry box, and I forgot about it for a long time. Until one Christmas, there was a small box under the tree with my name on it. On Christmas Eve, when we opened presents, the small box was the last one that I opened. As I unwrapped a jewelry box I was somewhat confused why they had gotten me a ring. But when I took out the ring the days of dress-up came rushing back in my mind. The pearls had been replaced and the ring was shiny after its cleaning. I now have the ring that reminds me to always keep a little bit of the kid that I was with me at all times.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Rhetorical Response
The music video below, “Famous in a Small Town,” makes an argument about the life in a small town and what all occurs in a rural town setting. The main appeal for this video is pathos. The song itself makes jokes about living in a small town where everyone knows about everybody else’s business. Through this appeal the audience is drawn in and if they are from a small town lightheartedly laugh and agree that this is how it is. Including the humorous pictures of the girlfriend and boyfriend in the video add more humor, creating pathos. The pictures and video clips of the town also make the appeal to pathos, this time however, the appeal is more one of a sense of community than of humor. 
The video also contains two logical fallacies. The hasty generalization, this comes from assuming that every small town is like the one that she is singing about, that everybody dies famous in a small town, when there is no evidence to support that statement. The video also contains the logical fallacy of stacking the evidence. While the statement of everybody dies famous in a small town may apply to her and the town that is being sung about, it isn’t necessarily true of all small towns. Also what one person’s opinion is of their particular town, might not be the same as the next persons. In this way the video appeals to the logical fallacies. By appealing to the audiences emotions, it ensures that a wider range of people will view the viedo.
The video also contains two logical fallacies. The hasty generalization, this comes from assuming that every small town is like the one that she is singing about, that everybody dies famous in a small town, when there is no evidence to support that statement. The video also contains the logical fallacy of stacking the evidence. While the statement of everybody dies famous in a small town may apply to her and the town that is being sung about, it isn’t necessarily true of all small towns. Also what one person’s opinion is of their particular town, might not be the same as the next persons. In this way the video appeals to the logical fallacies. By appealing to the audiences emotions, it ensures that a wider range of people will view the viedo.
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