One of my biggest challenges growing up was attempting to define myself outside of my proximity to others. Growing up, this was a difficult task, particularly in my academic life. I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship to attend a highly selective High School located in downtown Chicago. Nearly everyone who attended was in the top five percent of Chicago\u2019s income, so I spent my formative years surrounded by people with means who were in a distinctly different situation from my own. I did not grow up poor, the differences between us were far less pronounced. My friends would return from break with presents and experiences from Australia, China, Ecuador, and Iceland. In contrast, I did not feel like anything I would have brought back from my grandmother\u2019s house in Kettering, Ohio could really compare. I was conflicted about whether I really belonged among my peers, but to my relief, this was a feeling that dramatically changed once I discovered environmental activism.<\/p>\n
My passion for environmental activism began in my sophomore year. I took an environmental science class, primarily because the teacher was the soccer coach, but to my surprise, I ended up loving the subject. It was a nontraditional environmental science class that instead focused on the humanitarian consequences of climate change and the destruction of our ecosystem. The class perfectly demonstrated the urgency of the situation, and I was enthralled. As the class continued, I realized that I gravitated towards both legal and policy solutions as potential answers to climate change. I had no idea just how impactful my new interest in the environment would be on the trajectory of my personal and professional life.<\/p>\n
Two years after my first class, when we were applying to college and choosing the path our lives would take, I thought back to the plaza in downtown Chicago that was filled with hundreds of chanting high schoolers, all waiting with bated breath for change. I recalled my time in our school\u2019s environmental club, but most importantly I thought about my family: my cousins who had come face to face with the California wildfires; and my choice was easy. I wanted and needed to do something for our environment.<\/p>\n
In my freshman year at American University, I was invited into a three-year advanced Politics and Policy program to study Law. For the first time in my life, I had a concrete plan. On the first day of my intro to law seminar, we went around listing the types of law we were interested in. From the back, I heard \u201cenvironmental law\u201d. I was startled. I had no idea environmental law even existed, let alone being a major legal specialization. I had always loved the environment and been interested in studying law, but this was the first time I could realistically use my two interests cooperatively. So, I eagerly began a hopeful future as an environmental lawyer.<\/p>\n
I was initially interested in the UK Fulbright program because of the United Kingdoms’ fascinating history with the environment and sustainability. The UK was the birthplace of the first Industrial Revolution, which was one of the most consequential contributors to global warming in history. On the other hand, the United Kingdom was the first country to legally mandate a reduction in greenhouse gas emissions through the Climate Change Act of 2008. Studying environmental solutions in a country with such a rich history would be an incredibly advantage. London also consistently ranks within the top ten major cities for sustainability. Learning in a hub that is so well known for the topic that interests me would hopefully transform and widen my views on the subject.<\/p>\n
While I believe that studying abroad at the Fulbright Summer institute can teach me the history, knowledge, and skills to continue down an environmental career path, its true strength comes from the connections I will make with individuals who share a similar drive and passion. These individuals will all have different ideas and perspectives to solve our common goal. This opportunity would be transformative because it would dramatically broaden my perspective of climate change and sustainability questions. This Fulbright opportunity would provide me with opportunities to interact with a wide array of people: driven students, accomplished teachers, and influential policymakers, each with a different perspective on climate change solutions. This diversity of perspectives present at UCL\u2019s summer school would definitively change the way I see the world and the United States’ environmental policy. A foundational characteristic necessary to become a great lawyer is a deep level of care and understanding for the people you represent. My hope is to represent the earth and I am certain that the UK summer institute will equip me with the proper care, connections, and understanding to turn that hope into reality.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
One of my biggest challenges growing up was attempting to define myself outside of my proximity to others. Growing up, this was a difficult task, particularly in my academic life. I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship to attend a highly selective High School located in downtown Chicago. Nearly everyone who attended was in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":573,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[42],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-572","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-environment"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/572","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=572"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/572\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/573"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=572"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=572"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=572"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":614,"date":"2022-04-25T15:13:36","date_gmt":"2022-04-25T15:13:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=614"},"modified":"2022-04-29T16:05:34","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T16:05:34","slug":"lies-of-omission-coming-to-terms-with-my-voice-through-the-conceptual-creation-of-the-seven-somers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/04\/25\/lies-of-omission-coming-to-terms-with-my-voice-through-the-conceptual-creation-of-the-seven-somers\/","title":{"rendered":"Lies of Omission: Coming to Terms With My Voice Through the Conceptual Creation of \u201cThe Seven Somers\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"
Nearly every piece of writing occupies both the authentic and the inauthentic space. On one hand, authors\u2014whether purposefully or subconsciously\u2014embed pieces of their own identity into their writing. Their characters, opinions, word choice, and even settings are fabricated from the experiences of the writer who lies behind the 12pt font. On the other hand, these pieces of self are often only small glimpses into the mind of this author; each slab of writing is like a door that is halfway open, displaying a tidy and partially obscured room to everyone who takes a peek. Well, at least that\u2019s how I see it; a duality between authentic presentation and artificial creation. Authors sharing facets of their identity in controlled and highly edited bursts. This was a balance that I found difficult to explore in my own writing, but it is only through my struggles and eventual understanding that the conceptual underpinnings of my portfolio entitled \u201cThe Seven Somers\u201d were born. But hang tight, as I describe my struggle and eventual solution to balancing authenticity in my voice.<\/span><\/p>\n My struggles with authentically portraying my voice began long before college; for a majority of my schooling, I was taught that writing’s singular purpose is that of a persuasive tool.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0In fact, if I had to describe it, my early literacy education closely echoes the words of author Stephen Willhoit, who states that \u201cat the heart of every assignment is the rhetorical situation\u2014someone writing to someone about something for some purpose\u201d(Wilhoit quoted by Melzer 20). While he is largely correct, my school took this to heart, heavily prioritizing standard rhetorical strategies over uniquity and creativity. Like most kids growing up, I was encouraged to write formulaically. We learned rhetorical tools such as ICE (introduce, cite, and explain) and structural tools such as the five-part essay (introduction, three body paragraphs, and conclusion) all in an effort to hone one particular voice. While this education effectively trained my academically persuasive voice, I found it increasingly difficult to share pieces of myself in my writing; I had sacrificed authenticity for consistency, a concession that benefited my grades, but was deeply harmful to my enjoyment of writing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I had believed that my distrust of my own voice would naturally pass as a transitioned from high school to college, but unfortunately, I found myself relying on the same literary crutches that I had learned years before. Before taking \u201cRepresenting Thought\u201d nearly every piece of my college writing assumed the same tired academic voice.\u00a0 I would use similar words, incorporate meta-commentary the same way, and even slip in the word juxtaposed at every opportunity in an effort to sound \u201cacademic\u201d. This wasn\u2019t to say I was producing bad pieces of work. In fact, most of my writing\u2014not to pat myself on the back too much\u2014was well researched and put forth complex ideas. The issue was that I didn\u2019t feel like I was saying them. I felt like I had done a bunch of research and then robbed someone of their voice, a voice that they were much more comfortable using.\u00a0 As author Anne Lamott puts it, \u201cThe truth of your experience can only come through in your own voice. If it is wrapped in someone else’s voice we readers will feel suspicious as if you are dressed up in someone else’s clothes\u201d (Lamott 199). I believe this was the central reason I was particularly self-critical in the development of my writing; there was a disconnect between what I wanted to say and what I put on the page. I wasn\u2019t representing my true style but instead parroting the voices that I had success with previously. While this realization was always at the back of my mind, it wasn\u2019t until nearly halfway through my freshman year that I was pushed to fundamentally reevaluate the way I approached writing.<\/span><\/p>\n My change in writing can best be described as a frustrated reaction to external influence. In other words, people in my life told me to write things I didn\u2019t enjoy. My fear and anger culminated during what I will call the scholarship season. Among others, I applied for a summer Fullbright program. I was deeply excited, determined to write a personal statement so unique and filled to the brim with my identity that my acceptance would be given at metaphorical gunpoint. Looking back, as a freshman in college who could barely define what an adverb was, I was punching a little out of my weight class. But no matter, I tackled my first draft and created a questionable amalgamation of anecdotes, comedy, work experiences, lessons, family, and travel. I even managed to incorporate a vivid dream sequence into the draft. It was my first stab at the personal statement, not a masterpiece but definitively me. From there I entered the revision process, working with a Fulbright expert to ensure I had the best chance. When I met with the expert, her central criticism shook me to my core. \u201cIt needs to be less creative,\u201d she stated bluntly as her main complaint. I was stunned and honestly a little confused; it sounded like she was actively recommending me to make my writing less interesting and personal.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I grappled with her advice for weeks. She obviously had expertise on what makes a good personal statement, but the thought of intentionally sacrificing my writing\u2019s creativity made me want to take a cold shower. Eventually, I caved and decided to rewrite my statement in a more digestible format. While unsurprisingly it produced a piece of writing that was more polished, I had excluded several important facets of my identity that I wanted to share. Upon reexamination, it felt like these idiosyncrasies that were present in my first draft were essential to understanding who I am. Without them, my writing was no more than lies of omission.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n This betrayal of both voice and identity was at the crux of my portfolio\u2019s structure.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In rejection of the compromises that I made during the scholarship process,\u00a0 I wanted to showcase almost every different voice and context of my writing that I had produced in the last year. My betrayal of voice was deeply connected to my initial misunderstanding of the delicate balance between authenticity and performance. It is my hope that the division of my writing into categories will allow the readers to easily understand both the purpose of my pieces and the contexts in which they exist. While displaying the many contexts and environments in which my voice changes was most definitely an interesting trip for the reader, it also served the purpose of making me more confident in my writing as a whole. By presenting my work as a combination of academia, creative writing, poetry, and even photography, I feel far less defined by any singular piece of writing that I\u2019ve constructed. <\/span><\/p>\n After completing my personal statement, I felt like I seriously neglected the role of identity in both my writing and my voice. I made the very deliberate choice to include as many personal and self-reflective pieces as possible. I made a category called self-reflection in an effort to share more aspects of myself directly through my writing and tip my balance back towards authenticity. Some of my categories are academic, some are creative, and some are autobiographical. It is my hope that each additional piece in my portfolio will crack the door a little wider for the reader, revealing maybe not the most perfect pieces of writing, but pieces that are unapologetically me. For example, I have a love of sci-fi, but I always found it difficult to incorporate into an academic setting. The open nature of our portfolio allowed me to introduce this writing while remaining thematically consistent with the way our voice changes. Readers can view the changes in my writing depending on formality, I strike drastically different tones depending on if I\u2019m constructing a research paper, or making a blog about pirates. I also designed my website to be as cartoonish and playful as possible in a further rejection of having a singular academic voice. <\/span><\/p>\n When it’s all said and done, my conceptual design of the Seven Somers represents the realization that I should have published my original personal statement. Through this process, I realized that the most interesting authors are not afraid to take risks. As George Orwell concludes in his excerpt entitled \u201cwhy I write\u201d, \u201cone can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one\u2019s own personality\u201d(Orwell 8). Your writing doesn\u2019t always have to be polished, nor does it need to illustrate what a perfect person you are, but it does need to be unapologetically you.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Nearly every piece of writing occupies both the authentic and the inauthentic space. On one hand, authors\u2014whether purposefully or subconsciously\u2014embed pieces of their own identity into their writing. Their characters, opinions, word choice, and even settings are fabricated from the experiences of the writer who lies behind the 12pt font. On the other hand, these […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[44],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-614","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-portfolio-reflection"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/614","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=614"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/614\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=614"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=614"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=614"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":270,"date":"2022-04-13T03:57:05","date_gmt":"2022-04-13T03:57:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=270"},"modified":"2022-04-28T19:32:14","modified_gmt":"2022-04-28T19:32:14","slug":"how-to-make-an-outsider-cry-empathy-and-reality-in-wildwood","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/04\/13\/how-to-make-an-outsider-cry-empathy-and-reality-in-wildwood\/","title":{"rendered":"How to Make an Outsider Cry: Empathy and Reality in “Wildwood”"},"content":{"rendered":" I should preface my examination of Junot Diaz\u2019s \u201cWildwood\u201d by declaring my role as an outsider. Yes, believe it or not, Eero is not a Dominican Name. I cannot speak fluent Spanish, nor can I\u2014to my immense embarrassment\u2014identify any key elements of Dominican history or culture. I blame our public school system, but that\u2019s not the point. My point is that despite our completely different languages, perspectives, and cultures, I connected deeply with Junot Diaz\u2019s character of Lola de Leon in \u201cWildwood\u201d. I believe that the fictitious character Lola is effective because of Diaz\u2019s emphasis on empathy. He illustrates Lola\u2019s lifelong struggle with abuse in a vivid, personal, and realistic way. This intentional humanization of Lola creates a powerful link between fiction and reality.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n My entire argument\u2014at least why Lola feels both personal and relatable\u2014rests on the admittedly large assumption that humanity is caring; that the things we watch and read have the capacity to evoke joy and tears and laughter and sorrow. In other words, we possess empathy. Diaz\u2019s introduction of Lola in \u201cWildwood\u201d would ring hollow without certain intentional creations of empathy. The first and in my opinion, most powerful was Diaz\u2019s choice to make Lola\u2019s mom abusive. This characterization of Lola as a child of abuse makes her feel far more personal. At the beginning of the chapter, Diaz writes that \u201cas kids [they] were more scared of [their] mother than we were of the dark or el cuco. She would hit [them] anywhere, in front of anyone, always free with the chanclas and the correa\u201d (55). This is our first introduction to her home life, a brutal and vivid image of fearful children cowering from abuse. For me, this was when Lola stopped being a fictional character. In this instance, she was embedded with the uniquely human struggle that countless children deal with. She simply reflected a personal reality.<\/span><\/p>\n Unfortunately, this one snapshot will never give me a complete picture of Dominican culture, nor am I certain it is an accurate representation. But that is yet another reason fiction is a powerful form of writing. These fictional characters are written to embody real spaces. Their movements, goals, and actions are reflective\u2014even in the most minuscule ways\u2014of the identity of their creators. Perhaps that is another reason why Lola\u2019s relationship with abuse felt so personal; Diaz populated his fictional world with elements of his reality.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I should preface my examination of Junot Diaz\u2019s \u201cWildwood\u201d by declaring my role as an outsider. Yes, believe it or not, Eero is not a Dominican Name. I cannot speak fluent Spanish, nor can I\u2014to my immense embarrassment\u2014identify any key elements of Dominican history or culture. I blame our public school system, but that\u2019s not […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":468,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[34],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-270","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-rhetorical-analysis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/270","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=270"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/270\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/468"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=270"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=270"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=270"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":246,"date":"2022-04-06T03:59:55","date_gmt":"2022-04-06T03:59:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=246"},"modified":"2022-04-29T03:14:26","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T03:14:26","slug":"uncanny-valley-of-voice-the-importance-of-time-and-planning-in-producing-authentic-writing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/04\/06\/uncanny-valley-of-voice-the-importance-of-time-and-planning-in-producing-authentic-writing\/","title":{"rendered":"The Uncanny Valley of Voice: Preparing Authenticity"},"content":{"rendered":" Nearly every piece of writing that truly embodies my voice was formed from the same process, a process that has become increasingly incompatible with procrastination. Procrastination was my first love. I say this only half-jokingly because I was a chronic procrastinator. For most of my life, I relied on the deadline, transforming the adage \u201cIf you only have an hour, then it will only take an hour\u201d, into a holy scripture that guided my writing. It was only recently that I realized the damage that procrastination had caused to my progression as a writer, and to my confidence in my written voice.<\/p>\n Rereading my most egregious examples of procrastination\u2014the unedited writing I submitted right before the deadlines\u2014would almost always evoke a unique feeling in me. I liken it to a researched phenomenon dubbed \u201cuncanny valley\u201d. This psychological phenomenon is an eerie feeling that humans experience \u201cin response to not-quite-human figures like humanoid robots and lifelike computer-generated characters\u201d (IEEE 1). This was a feeling that became increasingly common as I developed as a writer but continued to struggle with my voice. I realized that I needed a new process to feel authentic, and this is what I created.<\/p>\n The process that I implemented to project a genuine voice in my writing was like the arrangement of a complex bank heist (though admittedly with far lower stakes). The most neglected part of my writing had always been the planning. With no roadmap, outline, or structure, I struggled to write authentically. I afforded myself no time to experiment, plan, and scheme, the characteristics that make your writing uniquely your own. Consequently, my new strategy heavily emphasizes the planning phase.<\/p>\n Now when I begin writing, my bank heist will be weeks away. Long before I place pen to paper, I will simply stop to think. As I walk through life I will let questions float around me, attached to me throughout the day with tiny strands of invisible string; How should I arrange my essay? Can I introduce my quotes more effectively? What am I really getting at? Things I rarely asked myself, but I now realize are essential for confidence in my writing.<\/p>\n While my voice will undoubtedly need to change based on the genre that I write in, time, reflection, and planning have proved to be essential components of the pieces that most accurately reflect my voice. Much like a successful bank heist, a truly authentic piece of writing cannot be carried out in one day. It is only through deliberate reflection that you can create a piece that is wholeheartedly you. A true reflection of yourself rather than a robot trying its best to imitate humanity.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Nearly every piece of writing that truly embodies my voice was formed from the same process, a process that has become increasingly incompatible with procrastination. Procrastination was my first love. I say this only half-jokingly because I was a chronic procrastinator. For most of my life, I relied on the deadline, transforming the adage \u201cIf […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":478,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[37],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-246","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reflection-on-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/246","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=246"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/246\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/478"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=246"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=246"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=246"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":244,"date":"2022-04-05T19:41:24","date_gmt":"2022-04-05T19:41:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=244"},"modified":"2022-04-29T05:36:34","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T05:36:34","slug":"no-name-woman-and-the-role-of-storytelling-in-the-kingstons-creation-of-self","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/04\/05\/no-name-woman-and-the-role-of-storytelling-in-the-kingstons-creation-of-self\/","title":{"rendered":"No Name Woman and the Role of Storytelling in the Kingston’s Creation of Self"},"content":{"rendered":" Throughout her short story entitled \u201cThe Woman Warrior\u201d, author Maxine Hong Kingston utilizes storytelling as a form of rebellion, rejecting the cautionary allegory passed quietly through her family about the role and restrictions of womanhood. She instead creates an alternative representation of the story, demonstrating the realistic complexity of being a woman in her Asian-American community.<\/p>\n Firstly, the rebellious nature of Kingston\u2019s piece is central to our understanding of her central purpose. She begins the chapter with her mother’s words: \u201cYou must not tell anyone\u2026 what I am about to tell you\u201d(Kingston 1). Ironically, Kingston\u2019s entire piece\u2014and its existence\u2014is a rejection of this opening sentence. She details the story her mother told her, about her nameless aunt who became pregnant and was tormented by her community, eventually throwing herself and her unborn child into the well.<\/p>\n In her mother\u2019s traditional tale, the aunt plays the role of a passive caricature who existed, was impregnated, ostracized, and then killed herself. Her role is simply a harsh omen and warning for women in Kingston\u2019s family and community. This is apparent in her mother\u2019s conclusion when she states that \u201cnow you have started to menstruate, what happened to her could happen to you. Don\u2019t humiliate us. You wouldn\u2019t like to be forgotten as if you had never been born\u201d(Kingston 9). The Aunt\u2019s name is never spoken again because she represented failure and was erased, only secretly discussed as the omnipresent reminder of the dangers of womanhood.<\/p>\n In contrast, Kingston\u2019s fictitious retelling is created in direct response to her family’s warnings about pregnancy and sex. In Kingston\u2019s imagined story, her aunt is a beautiful and sexually fulfilled woman who\u2014in an act of strength\u2014refuses to reveal the father of her child even as she is tormented and rejected from her community. Kingston recontextualizes her aunt\u2019s actions as loving, challenging the familial taboo that her mother warns her about in secret.<\/p>\n In her conclusion, Kingston\u2019s mother directly correlates the aunt to Kingston if she doesn\u2019t follow a rigid set of familial and traditional rules. Kingston intentionally recreates a story where the aunt has far more choice, freedom, and autonomy, in an attempt to break the traditional story which confined her choice and the choices of Asian-American women in her community. While Kingston\u2019s story is completely fiction, For her, It is a far more accurate representation of the complexity of being herself.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Throughout her short story entitled \u201cThe Woman Warrior\u201d, author Maxine Hong Kingston utilizes storytelling as a form of rebellion, rejecting the cautionary allegory passed quietly through her family about the role and restrictions of womanhood. She instead creates an alternative representation of the story, demonstrating the realistic complexity of being a woman in her Asian-American […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":473,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[34],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-244","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-rhetorical-analysis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/244","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=244"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/244\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/473"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=244"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=244"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=244"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":205,"date":"2022-03-04T18:50:37","date_gmt":"2022-03-04T18:50:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=205"},"modified":"2022-04-28T19:40:51","modified_gmt":"2022-04-28T19:40:51","slug":"a-letter-to-his-sons-how-ta-nehisi-coates-speaks-to-everyone","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/03\/04\/a-letter-to-his-sons-how-ta-nehisi-coates-speaks-to-everyone\/","title":{"rendered":"A Letter to His Sons – How Ta-Nehisi Coates Speaks to Everyone"},"content":{"rendered":" In the article entitled \u201cLetter to my Son\u201d The author Ta-Nehisi Coates\u2019utilizes a particularly ingenious method to communicate the harsh realities of the black body in the United States: the incorporation of a dual audience. At many points throughout the text, I was unable to recognize whether he was writing with the express purpose of a larger audience or if that segment was directed specifically to his son. It is definitely a combination of both, but it creates an interesting dynamic for the reader; we are unsure whether we are the target of his words or if we are merely intruders in a difficult conversation that black men across America have with their children on a daily basis.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Coates\u2019 insistence on teaching his son about the harsh realities of the world makes Coates\u2019 own words far more accessible to everyone else. In order to be effective rhetoric for a fifteen-year-old boy, Coates\u2019 speech is simple but powerful. For example, when detailing just how difficult the lives of black men growing up in America is to his son, Coates uses the words \u201cRacism dislodges brains, blocks airways, extracts organs, cracks bones, breaks teeth. You must never look away from this\u201d(Coates 84). This was a highly effective demonstration of Coates\u2019 dual audience because he is vividly portraying both the current and historical implications of racism to both his son and the wider audience. Writing a piece that is hyper-personal charges all of Coates\u2019 words with lived experience. He doesn’t need to make his words overly flowery or complex because he has vivid pictures from years of living in this world as a black man. It makes his piece very simple to connect with and be touched\/intrigued by.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n However, while I believe that his piece is accessible to a general audience, the heavy use of a dual audience makes his central point incredibly nuanced. I have concluded that much like his use of two audiences, he also intends separate takeaways, one for his son and one for a wider audience. The first purpose is an attempt to educate his son and to continue to \u201cbe a conscious citizen in this terrible and beautiful world\u201d(Coates 91) The second larger purpose is a call to action for those reading it. To understand the horrific history that many people are still living out to this day. Being a black man in the United States is difficult and throughout the text, Coates communicates that idea in the most accessible and brutal way.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In the article entitled \u201cLetter to my Son\u201d The author Ta-Nehisi Coates\u2019utilizes a particularly ingenious method to communicate the harsh realities of the black body in the United States: the incorporation of a dual audience. At many points throughout the text, I was unable to recognize whether he was writing with the express purpose of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":471,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[34],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-205","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-rhetorical-analysis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/205","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=205"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/205\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/471"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=205"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=205"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=205"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":616,"date":"2022-03-01T15:21:40","date_gmt":"2022-03-01T15:21:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=616"},"modified":"2022-04-29T15:42:18","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T15:42:18","slug":"the-new-colonists","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/03\/01\/the-new-colonists\/","title":{"rendered":"The New Colonists"},"content":{"rendered":" March 23. 2030.<\/span><\/p>\n As I blew out the candles during my final birthday on earth, I silently wished that it wasn\u2019t true. We had heard my number on the vintage television, nearly a month ago. On the first day of the third wave draft, my number was announced. I was to be the final wave of new colonists. I glanced out my window to see ash coating the ground. It was nearly an inch thicker than last year, a trend that had continued for nearly a decade.<\/span><\/p>\n As the last remnants of happy birthday were swallowed up by silence, I finally spotted him. I had been glancing out the window nearly every sixty seconds, praying that they had forgotten about me. Praying that my house radiated an aura of warmth, a scorching, hot embrace so powerful that it was impossible to pry me from its wooden walls. I had no such luck.<\/span><\/p>\n The military man\u2019s unintimidating waddle would have been hilarious to a younger me, but how could I laugh when I knew the reason for his visit. He beckoned at me from just outside. I hugged my parents tightly, certain that this was the last birthday we would spend together. \u201cI\u2019ll see you soon\u201d I whispered to them, a sentiment that none of us believed, and met the officer as I stepped outside into the ash.<\/span><\/p>\n Ten thousand citizens were chosen to embark on this third pilgrimage to Mars. The first wave had been scientists who were charged with establishing oxygen, water and terraforming the planet. The second wave was labor and power; those who provided service or capital to the creation of the new colony. This third wave consisted of an unwilling civilian corp.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n The trek was estimated at seven months, one way. In the beginning, governments took only volunteers. But interest plummeted when it was revealed that only one member per family could be sent. Human revolt coincided with continued environmental destruction. To quell the growing distress, the government instituted a global draft. That is how I found myself on an overcrowded spaceship, a hundred million miles away from home, completely alone.<\/span><\/p>\n Almost seven months to the day from my last moments on earth, I looked out the starboard window and was shocked to see us hurtling towards a planet. It was so strange; this was a Mars unlike anything I had ever imagined. It was half as big as I expected and severely misshapen. It looked like an aluminum can that was just crushed by a child learning its own strength. The sight got more shocking as we got closer.<\/span><\/p>\n It seemed briefly that humanity’s plan to terraform Mars had been a success, at least in part. Half of the dust-colored planet had been replaced by vibrant hues of green and blue. As we descended, I could see the relief on everyone\u2019s face. Those blues and greens, at least from the perspective of an outsider looking in, seemed like a comforting invitation to safety, a familiar attempt to recreate the world we can no longer return to.<\/span><\/p>\n The collective sighs of relief were cut short by our next discovery of the trip: there were three gaping chasms, three humongous holes that bore their way to the center of Mars. They seemed completely out of place. They looked both familiar and unnatural, too large to be man-made. And yet, there was no scientific record of this phenomenon.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0\u201cIt looks like a bowling ball,\u201d said a younger child who sat alone a few feet away. It was a whimsical, yet accurate observation. Words collected on thousands of lips, but the silence continued as the new colonists assessed the three puncture wounds and the half earth-like Mars. And in a collective acceptance of circumstances beyond their control, the holes were forgotten.<\/span><\/p>\n The ground appeared dense. Packed together like wet sand, but with a strange absence of moisture. The half of Mars that was not terraformed looked like a shell of a once-powerful creature. It was cracking off and looked far more discolored than expected. This was to be our new home. We had been certain of this inevitability since mother earth rejected us, yet the compositional changes, the deep holes at the center, the tightly and mercilessly packed ground, and the size, were all uncanny. \u201cWhy did it feel so wrong?\u201d I asked myself as we disembarked.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n March 23. 2050.<\/span><\/p>\n Nearly twenty years after the third wave of humanity\u2019s dismount, I received an answer to my questions. It was to be the last answer that humanity ever received. It came at dawn. I say it for lack of a better word; A god, or a demon, or possibly a celestial child who wandered towards the new colonists and thought of us as a collection of ants.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n His features were barely recognizable to the human eye. He seemed weightless as if a cloud approached Mars and ushered in humanity’s end. As the form lurched closer to the surface of Mars, the last thing I saw began to take shape. The transformation from an amorphous blob to a hand was so rapid that I wondered if it was my mind attempting to make sense of what I was seeing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n As this force of nature reached out, he placed his three fingers into the suspicious crater holes of Mars. The only thing the new colonists could do was scream and pray.\u00a0 The hand did not seem angry, nor was it sinister. It was a neutral force larger than humanity.<\/span><\/p>\n As the new colonists begin to panic, I am transported back to earth. In my vision, I am nine again, accompanied to the bowling alley with my entire family. I struggle with the weight of the ball. Nearly all of my tosses end in the gutter. I begin laughing at the absurdity. On the precipice of humanity’s end, I am having a daydream about bowling.<\/span><\/p>\n I am violently whipped back to reality, as the cataclysmic force throws the entirety of Mars through space. The last thing I hear is laughter, a child laughing because he finally bowled a strike.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The New Colonists March 23. 2030. As I blew out the candles during my final birthday on earth, I silently wished that it wasn\u2019t true. We had heard my number on the vintage television, nearly a month ago. On the first day of the third wave draft, my number was announced. I was to be […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":617,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[45],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-616","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-sci-fi"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/616","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=616"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/616\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/617"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=616"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=616"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=616"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":604,"date":"2022-03-01T07:20:39","date_gmt":"2022-03-01T07:20:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=604"},"modified":"2022-04-29T07:24:37","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T07:24:37","slug":"a-community-of-cooks","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/03\/01\/a-community-of-cooks\/","title":{"rendered":"A Community of Cooks"},"content":{"rendered":" I belong to a community of cooks. When I close my eyes, I am instantly transported to a familiar world of spice, language, and most prominently: food.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Beginning in my junior year, nearly every hour that I wasn\u2019t in high school I spent in a stainless steel kitchen, choreographing orders like a dance, and collaborating with people from all over the world.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n My nightly trip on Chicago\u2019s Blue Line functioned as my wardrobe, transporting me from my predominantly white, upper-middle-class high school, to a Narnia-esque multicultural tapestry on the north side of the city.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I depended on and formed friendships with coworkers from Eritrea, Mexico, and Thailand, all of us connected through our jobs and passion for cooking. At the end of particularly difficult shifts, we would cook for each other. I was blessed with tsebhi sga (a traditional Eritrean stew) and tom kha kai (chicken coconut soup). In return, I cooked pesto gnocchi, a dish my mom made growing up.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n In this micro-community, cooking became the platform in which we exchanged our cultures, experiences, and ideas. I will carry the spirit of the kitchen into the broader academic and social communities I engage with, working collaboratively towards our common goals. This is my statement of purpose.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I belong to a community of cooks. When I close my eyes, I am instantly transported to a familiar world of spice, language, and most prominently: food.\u00a0 Beginning in my junior year, nearly every hour that I wasn\u2019t in high school I spent in a stainless steel kitchen, choreographing orders like a dance, and collaborating […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":606,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-604","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-cooking"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/604","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=604"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/604\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/606"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=604"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=604"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=604"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":200,"date":"2022-02-18T21:07:40","date_gmt":"2022-02-18T21:07:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=200"},"modified":"2022-04-29T05:35:17","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T05:35:17","slug":"viking-funeral","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/02\/18\/viking-funeral\/","title":{"rendered":"I Want a Viking Funeral"},"content":{"rendered":" When we shake our mortal coil then will we know at last,<\/span><\/p>\n What awaits both kings and peasants those treacherous and dull?<\/span><\/p>\n Is it hell, or maybe a bird, that is cursed to watch time pass?<\/span><\/p>\n For I don’t know but I don’t care for the hope of an endless lull.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n No, I would be disgusted to go out like one of them.<\/span><\/p>\n A coward of the crown begging in a noose<\/span><\/p>\n And when I sing my weary hymn\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n My soul, it shall be loose.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Yes, I wish for a Viking Funeral, my flame burning on a lake<\/span><\/p>\n So load your quiver and ready your bow with tearful eyes upon thy boat<\/span><\/p>\n The last farewell, and as families shake, i pray this be my fate<\/span><\/p>\n But if it’s not, I pray I never see those gates<\/span><\/p>\n The pearly white one\u2019s in others dreams<\/span><\/p>\n I will be an intruder, a chance mistake, just slipping through the seams<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I admittedly had a lot on my mind while I was drafting this sonnet. The particular themes I wanted to stress concerned both religion and the afterlife. I am really interested in the way that our religious affiliations change the ways we see death. Some don\u2019t believe in death afterlife, some believe we go to heaven, and others\u2014in my opinion most beautifully and cruelly\u2014believe that we have reincarnated into a different creature or even a different person. I wanted to write a sonnet about both the lack of religion that I have in my life as well as my obsession with Viking funerals. Both my parents and I have agreed to hold Viking funerals in the event of a death in the family. It is simply something that is always at the back of my mind when I contemplate death. Additionally, my inclusion of kings, the crown, nooses, and cowards all comes from another class that I\u2019m taking entitled \u201cthe persistence of piracy\u201d. We are currently learning about privateers\u2014basically, pirates that are sanctioned by the crown\u2014 and a lot of my harshness throughout the poem comes from their ability to do horrible things in the name of a formal government.<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0Lastly, I wanted to intersperse different parts of my identity within the piece, particularly with the loading of the bow and arrow, which happens in a Viking funeral but is also symbolic of my almost two-decade-long relationship with archery. Additionally, the intruder line refers to the rest of my extended family’s fanaticism. Both my thought process and my identity is reflected all throughout the sonnet.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" When we shake our mortal coil then will we know at last, What awaits both kings and peasants those treacherous and dull? Is it hell, or maybe a bird, that is cursed to watch time pass? For I don’t know but I don’t care for the hope of an endless lull.\u00a0\u00a0 No, I would be […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":467,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[38],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-200","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reflection-on-identity"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=200"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/200\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/467"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=200"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=200"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=200"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":594,"date":"2022-02-15T06:52:47","date_gmt":"2022-02-15T06:52:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/?p=594"},"modified":"2022-04-29T07:15:36","modified_gmt":"2022-04-29T07:15:36","slug":"forged-in-fire-struggling-in-the-kitchen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/2022\/02\/15\/forged-in-fire-struggling-in-the-kitchen\/","title":{"rendered":"Forged In Fire: Overcoming Obstacles in the Kitchen"},"content":{"rendered":" It is a unique feeling to watch a plate carried out of your kitchen with an order you are certain is incorrect. As the realization hits, you frantically tear after the waiter, hoping to catch him in time. In those few instances he slips through, you are overcome with a distinctive combination of guilt, searing embarrassment, and a slight pinch of fear. This was a feeling that I became intimately familiar with in my two years of employment for the Fifty\/50 company.<\/p>\n I assumed the role of Cook Staff Coordinator in my junior year of high school. My job was to communicate orders from the waiters to line cook staff. If a server brought me an order of sixteen pizzas, it was my responsibility to ensure that the order went out safely and on time. On the weekends, these servers combined brought in about four hundred orders a night.<\/p>\n Leading in a restaurant was a trial by fire and initially, fire was definitely not my element. In the beginning, it was a common occurrence to have customers send food back and one time a customer marched into the back kitchen cursing me out for an overcooked salmon.<\/p>\n My time in the kitchen was not without its downsides, but it taught me two hard-earned lessons about leadership. Firstly, a leader focuses on building lasting relationships with everyone around them because the best way to solve a problem is together. Without a team of talented and collaborative people, I could not have produced one order a night, let alone four hundred. Secondly, vulnerability is not weakness. Taking accountability for mistakes demonstrates growth to yourself and others. I will remember these two leadership lessons and the people that I learned from far longer than any of my feelings of guilt or embarrassment.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It is a unique feeling to watch a plate carried out of your kitchen with an order you are certain is incorrect. As the realization hits, you frantically tear after the waiter, hoping to catch him in time. In those few instances he slips through, you are overcome with a distinctive combination of guilt, searing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3796,"featured_media":602,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[43],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-594","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-cooking"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/594","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3796"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=594"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/594\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/602"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=594"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=594"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/edspace.american.edu\/es4210a\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=594"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}]The New Colonists<\/span><\/h1>\n