e-Portfolio Introduction

Welcome to My e-Portolio!

As an Anthropology and Community and Environmental Development double major, I think communication is the essence of human culture. From the cave paintings in the icy European mountains of the Neolithic era, to the text messages we send by the billions today, we as a species have long valued the art of conversation.

This e-Portoflio chronicles my own growth as a writer and public speaker during my time at Penn State. Show-cased here are the pieces which I believe exemplify my worth as a liberal arts student. Sharp and practical rhetoric skills are as important to my education as my everyday life. I aspire to travel the world conducting ethnographic studies and field work in the future. Wherever I go my communication skills will be challenged and developed.

Communication extends beyond borders, cultures and skin colors. Whether I work with National Geographic or the Smithsonian, on an archaeological dig or in a museum, I believe my skills in writing and speaking with validate my worth there.

http://katethompson-eportfolio.blogspot.com/

"Are you fat or what?"

Obese. Heavy. Big Boned.

Chubby. Pudgy.

Fat.

For decades, body weight has been a hot button of entertainment, and humor. Our country has an obvious stigma, as exemplified by Weird Al's Paradoy "Fat." When does this joking cross the line, into say- discrimination. Or maybe it's entirely overbaord from the start.

I'm going to do my policy paper on how discriination based on body size is as, if not more prevalant than discrimination on the basis of gender, sexuality, race, religion and age. I know that's a bold assertion. But why can I say that? Becuase where as many Americans would shudder at the N***** word, or cringe if a spouse said "Make me a sandwich," poking fun at heavier people is still commonly tolerated.

I'm not going to show them, but I can assure you here it takes five seconds of searching you tube to find plenty of relative videos.

Why do we- such a self-proclaimed equal people- impose so many judgments and distinctions among ourselves. I feel like we are perpetually finding reasons to delineate between "us" and "them." And when these categories don't exist, we invent them. Now that discrimination of skin color, beliefs, and God given-genitalia have been outlawed, we as a people are moving on the next open court- physical fitness, waist-to-hip ratio, and the numbers on one's scale. Will we ever quit?

What a Nightmare!

This past week Americans have united in bashing UCLA's Alexandra Wallace for her, admittedly, rude and ignorant critique of "Asian" mannerisms. Allegedly infamous mannerisms that include the terrible sins of bonding with family over shared duties and communicating on those satanic little devices we call phones. No buddy else uses them really, or ever talks too loudly. This behavior is relegated only to those of Oriental appearance and descent.

This controversy has left in its wake an outpouring of angsty You-Tube videos, and other college students sadly and slowly shaking their heads. "Thank you American education," I heard one of my friends say.

What I'm frankly more concerned about is the American portrayal of Chinese education. I saw this political commercial play during the Rachel Ray show this past Wednesday, and stopped mid-bite of Dannon Peach Lite Yogurt and Granny Smith apples to turn up the volume.

This advertisement depicts Chinese people as not our fellow global citizens, but our conniving competition. They have been study our failures, it implies. They have worked since the dawn of history to watch for the flaws of other great empires (like ours, clearly- we put it up there with the Romans after all) and have been waiting for us to fall. Now the own our debt. They own us. They are the enemy, and a victorious one.

This commercial (which followed the Morning News, I might add) breeds ignorance and ethnocentrism. Its rhetoric is powerful, and pathos driven- reaching down the shadowy fears kept in bottoms of American hearts and wallets. Logos wise- it's disgusting. And poorly constructed- note how the wording implies that previous ancient empires also had problems with deficit spending and providing adequate health care.


 Don't even get me started on the ethos of this commercial. On television it was aired without translation- the climax is Chinese laughing at the problems of Americans; the audience is purposely kept out of their dialogue. the imagination is allowed- no- encouraged to run wild. It intends to isolate and scare the viewer- a manipulation of American fears against a people who clearly look and speak differently than the conventional middle class WASP.

And this commercial stings! If this is a commonplace on any grounds, no wonder we have comments like those of Ms. Wallace making head lines. My point is perhaps the uncouth ranting of one beach blond isn't what our real concern should be. If we condone such ignorance in a more professional form, like this commercial, are we not as bad ourselves? Would our silence in response to the attitudes in this ad, to much of the world,  appear as a quiet agreement?

Poking Fun at PP

All you have do do is type "bad powerpoints" into youtube.com's search bar and you get a slew of related videos: powerpoints on how to make powerpoints, failed powerpoints, and gag powerpoints galor.


How many of us had seen these sort of presenters. Just to awkward to bare- you're embarressed for them. Unprepared and utterly uncomfortable presenting. A skit, true, but it typifies many powerpoint fails.

How many errors can you find?
My favorite, by far, are the comedic remarks on the subject. Just like the page 426: Highlighting How Not To Use Powerpoint, this stand-up routine series points out many of the quirky contridictions of PP use:

And this one is sadly, a real powerpoint so bad it is nearly a mockery of itself:

Perhaps the speaker had a very detailed and interesting speech to fill in the...erm...gaps in understanding within these slides. Or maybe a screenshot of an English weather-cast can really convey more information than what I seem to be getting. An example of graphics left to speak on their own...and largely remain silent.

Bad powerpoints are embarressing, perhaps because the mistakes are so easy to avoid than once you know and recognize them, they become blaringly obvious in other presentations. Or maybe I'm just bias against the Unite Kingdom (England).*


*false, the UK is more than just England, but also Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. Maybe fact check the first slide of your presentation. Just sayin'.

In the Spirit of Spiritual Conversation

I expected to be turned away right away. I wouldn't even want to talk to me, I thought. I've always dreaded these sort of people, these sort of conversations. Now here I was, on the other side of them.

For my mission trip in Philadelphia over break we surveyed people in the area of the city (Manayunk) where my youth group (ACF or Alliance Christian Fellowship), would be planting a new church (CityLight). We were to go up to people- on the street, at a park, in a mall- and ask them some questions. Simple enough right?

Are you a local here? Do you consider yourself a spiritual person? What do you think of Christianity? If you are Christian, describe your faith like. Likes and dislikes of the church? And so on.

Some people flat out said they would not discuss faith. Others, like one girl leaning against the wall outside a Hollister, said they were too busy to talk at the moment. At first I was annoyed by their apathy of flat out refusal to talk. I wasn't trying to convert them, I huffed. I just wanted to know why they thought what they thought.

Talking about spiritual beliefs, even in a non-argumentative way, requires are risk because it requires commitment. If you state your beliefs you risk being asked to stand behind them. Why? That dreaded question.

When prompted about their faith (if they did answer, which many did) they commonly said things like: "My family was such and such," or "I was raised so and so." Or, in one case "You know what enlightenment is, eh? Well, at 18 I experienced that." ...still not sure what to make of the last one.

But the overwhelming things seemed to be people didn't understand why they believed what they did. I wonder how far this expands not just beyond religion but into politics, philosophies, morals and even daily choices like coffee vs tea. Why? And more importantly, why are we so afraid to answer?

Oscar Awkward...

Didja watch the Oscars? Didja?

If not, here's a quick summary:

But it's no who won (I hadn't seen half these movies, I'll admit) that interested me as much as what the winner said. Thanks, a few tears, some humble platitudes- and nothing really beyond what's to be expected. But how they said it! The best manner of delivery seems to be extemporaneous. Those who appeared both candid and sincere, yet well-prepared (like Natalie Portman) gave good speeches. But the ones who spoke in an importune manner, or even with note cards- they seemed more stilted and confused. Less honest, less genuine. (like Colleen Atwood).
The confidence and decorum with which one delivers makes a big difference.
In our speeches last week, our grades depended on good delivery. But in the Oscars, one's reputation is at stake.

And remember- when in doubt- auto tune:

Popping Bottles or Pop Music?

Glee's title this week was simple: Alcohol.

"This episode isn't that good," said Jessie over a plate of Simmons baked veggies and a glass of cranberry juice mixed with gingerale. "It all about" she grimaces "drinking."

I bump into my roommate Elisa in the hallway.

"Aww I heard it's great," she says turning. The whole club, Mr. Shu- they all get wasted. The songs are all about it- so fun!"
"Guess I'll stay in tonight and live vicariously!" rasp- still no voice since THON, She laughs. "The singing" I say, "not the drinking."

Neither Elisa nor I drink. I never have had so much as a sip outside the Sunday morning communion line. But this week's Glee episode- so kairotically coincidental considering State Patty's Day Weekend-  made me wish I did.

I was shocked at first by how, well, fun the show made alcohol sound. Not like I haven't been to parties, haven't hung around and taken care of wasted friends, but for Glee to glorify it- I was taken aback. The actors play high school students- like most of their audience is. It didn’t seem appropriate. And the parties, the games, the making out, the pro-drinking songs and karaoke at bars. None of it seemed a bad- it seemed great. 

But when the club went on stage to preform [drunk], and the lead actresses vomited on each other mid-number, the show's tone changed.

It wasn't a public service announcement, nor did it give underage drinking a thumbs up. This week’s Glee did something most public education boards still won't- acknowledged kids drink and aren't going to stop any time soon. Mr. Shu acts as more than a scolding teacher, but a related role model. He plays up his ethos (which had taken a dive after some drunk dialing gone public) by telling his students he's not going to drink until their next competition and hopes they won't either. Consider it part of training before a big sports game- so no pregaming for the athletes. He gives them his phone number, a way to keep them from ever saying they don't have a choice but to drunk drive. He, and the writers of Glee showed the reality of underage drinking- the consequences and the fun side. But they didn't pretend it doesn't happen or can be "cured." For touching on this touchy subject, I give them a Rachel Berry gold star.

“So what about after the performance?” asks Finn Hudson, the male lead.
Mr. Shu pauses “I’ll buy the sparkling cider.”

Does it have to be a guy-thing? A woman-thing?

We talked about it in class. All of us noticed. The slight change that was somehow blaringly unconventional. We were slow to discuss what each of us had already picked up on. The way our text book incorporated both man and female pronouns, openly and alternating without any apology.

My text from ENG 215- Introduction to Article Writing- is "On Writing Well," by William Zinnsser. I had forgotten that as the author of a manual on the craft of written language, he was bound to bring up the same subject. He talks about the necessity in this p.c. age of using gender neutral pronouns, even at the risk of sounding a little vague. He bares his students from using phrase that make women possession- his example: "Early settlers pushed west with their wives and children." He suggests the use of "he or she" where sentence length allows. Zinnsser is loath to permit wordiness. And there is one concession Zinnsser refuses flat out- even after admitted badgering from "feminist readers." A single noun, like the ‘author’ or ‘reader’, should never be made into ‘they’- even for gender equality’s sake. So, for his own reasons of clarity he says he will only use male pronouns in his book.

After having read chapter upon chapter of "Rhetoric and Civil Life" over the past few weeks, I can hardly give Zinnsser any grace with his choice. The authors of our textbook balance both genders as skillfully as a practiced rhetor gives equal weight to both sides of an argument. Why then, can’t all authors take the same amount of time to give each gender its due?

The Ethos of Pop Stars (or lack there of....)

In class we discussed the invention of ethos, and the destruction of said ethos, but we didn't explore the celebrities and politicians that constantly toe the lie between prestigious and scandalous. Many public figures don’t suffer from a single career crashing catastrophe, but rather waver between the naughty and nice lists. How bad is it for someone in the public eye to make a dime-a-dozen mistake? Many young adults in American have tried illegal drugs. Michael Phelps for one- went from Wheaties box and parent approval to cell bar box and drug charges. Stars, like all people, make mistakes. But how much leeway should they get when so many fans (especially the younger ones) look up to them.

Take Miley Cyrus:

Now watch her take in a bong:

Does her place in the public eye take a common teenage misdemeanor and make it an earth-shattering felony? Perhaps when so many young girls idolize her, there just isn't room for shaky ethos?

You tell me.

Gaga for Kairos

Kairos in political action. Through pop music.

This past fall saw the repeal of "Don't Ask Don't Tell." And I had to admit, I'm proud that Lady Gaga put her money (and influence) where the mouth is. (Though I'm not always sure I want to know where that's been…) Stephanie Germanotta lent her public political support to Gay and Lesbian rights, holding true to the solid and often racy stands she has taken in her songs. But she goes beyond her defense of homosexuality in this appeal, and asks for a well-grounded defense of American rights. She’s done her research, formulated her argument, and using her fame Gaga takes her stance with all the perfect timing of a stage call.

She combines her personal, professional and political life to make a stand at the right moment. And more than her little monsters rallied behind her.

Way to go, Gaga. We salute you.

This I Believe

Transcript for Your Reading Pleasure:

           

My eleven year old brother Peter and I bake. Not well, but we do. We set our ambitions high, tying on our mother’s spare aprons and rummaging through the fridge for rolls of nestle toll house cookies, frozen pie shells, and cans of pumpkin purée. We fumble through the recipe on the back on the Betty Crocker Box- that is, if I don’t accidentally toss it out before we begin. We guesstimate baking times, and eye ball cups of flour. My middle school Family Consumer Science teacher would weep at our baking blasphemy.

 But our only rule is simple: the more sugar, the better.

My brother wriggles excitedly, begging to crack the eggs.  Shells ends up in the batter, white rhombuses stirred in with mismeasured lumps of flour and splatters of vanilla extract. Inevitably, two or three of them will end up on the titled floor- he has a questionable success rate. Once we doubled the lime in a key lime pie, and added three eggs too many, then left it in the oven for a good twenty minutes extra. This is our normal baking method- in the oven, out of the oven, prod gingerly, and back in the oven. Wait five minutes, then repeat. We pass the time by pressing our noses to the oven door, and licking clean the any batter coated bowls and spoons. If my mom is lucky I might wash them. If I am lucky, my brother might wash them.

                It’s not of affinity for baking that draws us together. Not even our affinity for each other. Peter and I are seven years apart. We share so little in common. His world is that of Halo and Grand Theft Auto, governed by calls of duty to his Xbox 360. My small galaxy of studies and stress is a good three hours from his own. And that’s only the physical distances. When I am back from school, we are normal siblings. We argue. We make plans that don’t happen. Like the times I told him I would take him to breakfast before school. Real early, just you and me bud. Can we go to a real breakfast restaurant? You name it!

I slept in.

 He cried.

 I go long stretches without calling him from college. He spends large stretches in front of the TV screen. But I don’t want that to be the only place he can go. So for lack of better ideas, I beckon him into the kitchen. A realm that belongs to neither of us, but entices of both of us. I tempt him with recipes I’ve Googled, and delicious words like boysenberry coquen. Peter and I have yet to see, let alone taste, a boysenberry. But if it comes in a box at the grocery store, or in a syrup filled can- we’ll find it.

                We might never actually eat all of whatever concoction we bake. But that’s alright. I believe it’s okay to make desserts from the box. But not buying them shrink wrapped and ready to go, never buying them. Because it’s the mixing, the baking, the flour dusted, dropped spoons, spilling milk process that means for at least for those forty minutes, my brother is all mine. It’s just us, the batter, and one ridiculously messy kitchen.  And, of all the recipes we’ve ever attempted, I can promise, nothing is sweeter.

Some People Watched the State of the Union, I turned to Disney

I'm at my friends' apartment, and after almost a year of "getting-around-to-it" and "maybe-laters" I'm finally crossing something important off my to do list.

I'm watching the Princess and the Frog.
And impressed. It shows how the audience-speaker relationship really goes two ways. A change in one does effect the other.

I grew up in the era of Mulan and Pocohantas (which featured a song called "Savages"). As far as I remember, Disney doesn't seem to have the most pristine track record for political correctness in its films. From "Songs of the South," to the film Dumbo, which starred a cheery crowd crows, one named Jim.

So I had to wonder how the Cinematic giant would respond to an evolving audience. A group of viewers with increasing expectations of racial equality and acceptance of cultural differences.

As I sit here now, the froggy lovers hoping through the tombs of New Orleans on Mardi Gras night, I have to admit- I'm thrilled. Disney knows how to please its audience, to aim and cultivate its films at their desires- both superficial and moral. The Princess and the Frog features a strong female character, Tiana. She does more of the saving than the prince. It deals with deep themes- well for Disney- of dreams, and the costs of single minded determination. And it is exploding with Louisiana culture.

Hokey songs and plot holes forgiven, The Princess and the Frog is an interesting indication of the direction in which our society is headed. If films are products of the imagination of our culture, this one shows that we have come a long way. It stars Disney's first mixed race couple. Maybe it's been a long time coming, but as Disney caters toward the appetite of a progressive audience, it transforms itself in the process. A rhetorical fairytale.

Bittersweets

Tonight, Kalliope had an open mic at Sugar On Top. The turnout was….less than desirable- but it meant a higher cupcake:person ration, so I wasn’t all too displeased. As the readers sauntered to the makeshift stage and recited their poetry I couldn’t help but notice how the even in the loosey-goosey galaxy of creative literature, the textbook’s suggestions on public speaking delivery apply. I’ve noticed something after attending years of readings through high school. Whether at the Dodge Poetry Festival, or in an ENGL 50 class, a writer’s poetry-reading voice is as unique to them as the fingertips that grasp their manuscripts and chapbooks. I know Billy Collins not just by his vivid imagery and subtle musing tone, but by the story book lull in his delivery. For poets, as for any speaker, the way we speak matters just as much as the words we speak. People have voices for talking to dogs and for admonishing children. For ordering fast food or making toasts at family gatherings. There’s a similar way you can fall into a voice as a reader. Whether embedded with bravado or hushed like a sigh, whether plodding forth or pacing, the voice becomes part of your presence.  

Tonight, those readers who spoke their own words in choppy line breaks and droning monotone lost something. The meaning of the verses- the excitement embodied in metaphor and the allure of alliteration- it all fell flat on the speckle carpet floor                                                                                         when the sadly when the speaker mustered little to no enthusiasm. And everything about the social and physical context of Sugar on Top aided in the ease of delivery! Here, we had a more intimate setting, so the speakers could be relaxed, eye contact could be easy, and at least for me, anxiety could be minimal. Yet the poets who sounded as if they cared little for their own words seemed to, unfortunately, make the listeners feel likewise.