It’s funny the fragments that stick with you. Moments isolated in time that just keep floating back-and-forth inside your mind.
Some random guy said the above quote after a hike I recently went on. Somewhere between reflecting back on the beautiful hike we’d all just experienced and discussing shoe sizes, this guy throws out that comment. I almost came back with a penis comment—almost. Instead I turned and glared at him (as best as one can glare with large sunglasses) and said, “I bet you really get a lot of girls then, huh.” Really, do people not know how to read their audience?!? He was surrounded by women, and while many of them were above 5’2, not all of them were. Uh, geeish!
The understanding of audience seems so crucial to understanding a lot of life’s experiences, yet, how many people don’t really read their audience. Ironically even those in my own cohort of friends and family don’t always read their own audiences—not a critique, mind you, just an observation. And I’m not suggesting that I’m always do myself, in fact, I'm still learning to respond to this understanding. It's something I stress in my teaching as I try and teach the importance of understanding your audience to both my freshmen and my upper level classes because I believe it’s one of the most important rhetorical concepts they can learn (next to, of course, reflection and genre). Understanding an audience helps teach them that their audience is not merely the teacher and that some day they will be writing to real-life audiences outside of school. I think it’s important for them to start to make those connections early.
Interestingly, I was reminded today of just how important understanding my audience is for my own dissertation. My committee that eventually reads my dissertation makes up my audience and this is so important because there are specific things I am doing/will do to make sure that my audience knows and understands what I am saying. I have read different books and different articles because I want to be sure that I understand case study methodology, for example. Some of the stuff I’ve read I won’t even put in my dissertation but you better believe I’ve read it and will keep in my back pocket just in case!
Reading/understanding audiences are a part of being a competent writer, but also part of being a competent speaker, friend, family member, or basically, all around person.
The random guy probably didn’t mean much with his comment, but as can been seen in #27 of my fun and fabulous facts post, I have a tendency to be sensitive about my height. We all have that one (or two) thing(s) that push our buttons…perhaps if you had grown up hearing midget jokes you would be tiny bit sensitive too (or had the nickname of Willow—from the movie about little people--I'm just sayin').
Moral of the story: whether in a casual conversation, writing for your first-year comp instructor, or writing your dissertation you need to read and understand your audience. I’m guessing the random guy didn’t have 1101/1102 at FSU because perhaps then he might know a little more about audience. ;-)
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Pushing Through the Silence
Forgive me, dear readers, for I have not blogged in 19 days.
***A year ago I was sitting pretty: I had recently come back from CCCC, which had been a fabulous trip, and I felt on top of the world. Little did I know that in a year things would look and feel so different.
No one can prepare you for your last year as a Ph.D. student, and honestly if they tried I’m not sure you would “get it.” The last year has been full of ups and downs and sometimes it feels like mostly downs. It’s not just because the job search is such an emotional roller coaster either—there is just so much that goes on in this last year and the job search is only one part of it. There are times I wish I could simply sit in a dark room watching re-runs of Dawson’s Creek, dt Coke by my side, snuggled under my Florida State blanket with Trini on my lap. But where would that get me besides revved up on caffeine and teenage angst (not that that doesn’t sound appealing!). No, I know I must push forward even if the pace I’m pushing is barely a limp (which given the fact that I still--over ten weeks later--have a slightly swollen ankle is not to far off!).
There have been times in the last four months that I question my ability to write—does that happen to everyone or is it just some insecurity of mine…I really don’t know. There have been times when I’ve wished I was a different kind of writer—one that doesn’t jump in head first without looking back. There have been times where I look at my students and think “I’m just like them” wondering where this thing called writing is going to get me. And there have been times when I wonder how I’m going to finish because for me the writing process has been all or nothing (which is not the kind of writer I normally am). I’ve always been some form of a writer: I won my first writing contest when I was ten for a fire safety essay. I graduated high school with honors in writing (not in English—in writing) after I spent the year taking both an AP English class and the traditional English class because I loved writing. Then in college writing just seemed like a natural major for me. Now twenty years after writing my fire safety essay I question my ability to write because my dissertation keeps shaking her ugly/beautiful (either/or…?!?) head at me.
Questions, questions, questions. Fester, fester, fester. Uh, yikes!
Ten weeks. There is a countdown happening and there’s no going back now. No matter how many lists I make, and no matter how many times I revise those lists, I have a definite deadline. Ten weeks is either going to be a lifetime or in need of a lifeline depending on how it plays out. Based on my competitive nature I’m determined not to let her get the best of me, so in ten weeks I’ll be writing about the joys of completing and successfully defending a little thing called a dissertation.
Here's to her planting a vision inside my brain that takes hold and sticks:
***A year ago I was sitting pretty: I had recently come back from CCCC, which had been a fabulous trip, and I felt on top of the world. Little did I know that in a year things would look and feel so different.
No one can prepare you for your last year as a Ph.D. student, and honestly if they tried I’m not sure you would “get it.” The last year has been full of ups and downs and sometimes it feels like mostly downs. It’s not just because the job search is such an emotional roller coaster either—there is just so much that goes on in this last year and the job search is only one part of it. There are times I wish I could simply sit in a dark room watching re-runs of Dawson’s Creek, dt Coke by my side, snuggled under my Florida State blanket with Trini on my lap. But where would that get me besides revved up on caffeine and teenage angst (not that that doesn’t sound appealing!). No, I know I must push forward even if the pace I’m pushing is barely a limp (which given the fact that I still--over ten weeks later--have a slightly swollen ankle is not to far off!).
There have been times in the last four months that I question my ability to write—does that happen to everyone or is it just some insecurity of mine…I really don’t know. There have been times when I’ve wished I was a different kind of writer—one that doesn’t jump in head first without looking back. There have been times where I look at my students and think “I’m just like them” wondering where this thing called writing is going to get me. And there have been times when I wonder how I’m going to finish because for me the writing process has been all or nothing (which is not the kind of writer I normally am). I’ve always been some form of a writer: I won my first writing contest when I was ten for a fire safety essay. I graduated high school with honors in writing (not in English—in writing) after I spent the year taking both an AP English class and the traditional English class because I loved writing. Then in college writing just seemed like a natural major for me. Now twenty years after writing my fire safety essay I question my ability to write because my dissertation keeps shaking her ugly/beautiful (either/or…?!?) head at me.
Questions, questions, questions. Fester, fester, fester. Uh, yikes!
Ten weeks. There is a countdown happening and there’s no going back now. No matter how many lists I make, and no matter how many times I revise those lists, I have a definite deadline. Ten weeks is either going to be a lifetime or in need of a lifeline depending on how it plays out. Based on my competitive nature I’m determined not to let her get the best of me, so in ten weeks I’ll be writing about the joys of completing and successfully defending a little thing called a dissertation.
Here's to her planting a vision inside my brain that takes hold and sticks:
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
We can work it out
Life is very short, and there's no time/For fussing and fighting, my friend.
I have always thought that it's a crime,/So I will ask you once again.
If January was “Whataya want from me” month than February was the “we can work it out” month.
The life of a fourth year PhD student moves in weird, jerky directions and one moment you feel completely in control and the next you feel as if you’ve jumped off the Fort Steuben bridge in the middle of January and the icy water consumes you (a bit melodramatic, eh?). I’ve been working things out this month with both the dissertation and the job search. At the beginning of the month I felt like I was slapping this dissertation in the face and gleefully yelling “I got you babe” but it was as if I spoke too soon. My dissertation spent two weeks in February fading in and out of consciousness—I was a mere passenger as it tried to work itself out. The dissertation, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, is a beast and most of the time this beast ain’t pretty. It develops a personality; it forges ahead into territories you don’t want it to go; it plops down and takes a week long vacation when you don’t want it to; it rants in a language unknown to the human mind. I’ve spent most of February going back and forth with her and not making a whole lotta head way. I felt so in control the first week of February and so outta control for the rest of the month. I haven’t regained that sense of control until the last couple days, thus, my dissertation and I have been working things out this month (I’ve already warned her that February is the only month she is allowed for this to happen). Yes, ladies and gentleman, the dissertation becomes a living breathing entity, and you bow to her unquestionable powers.
We can work it/we can work it out.
Try and see it my way.
I’m working things out. I finally broke down and practiced coding. It was scary—no joke—and I’ve been putting it off because I’m unsure if I’m right or wrong with my scheme. Silly, right? But in my head if I didn’t think about it then it wasn’t there. Good thing for me KY wouldn’t let me forgot about it otherwise I’d turn into one of those dissertation lifers. I broke down, though, and even if it’s not going to work at least I know how to start up again. It’s not as scary once you’ve tried it; it was getting to the trying stage that was hard.
Spring break is looming in front of me and as a wise person recently said, “you might find it wise to use some or all of spring break to help you assure that the rest of the term goes well.” Academics might “get” spring break off from teaching but it’s actually an opportunity to work; to get caught up; to get ahead. Some won’t see it that way, I realize, but I see a week’s worth of no commitments and a schedule of nothing but writing, and I’m kinda pumped about that. I have a deadline to meet, and I fully intend to make it. So I’m working it things out with my dissertation—she's finally starting to see things my way.
I have always thought that it's a crime,/So I will ask you once again.
If January was “Whataya want from me” month than February was the “we can work it out” month.
The life of a fourth year PhD student moves in weird, jerky directions and one moment you feel completely in control and the next you feel as if you’ve jumped off the Fort Steuben bridge in the middle of January and the icy water consumes you (a bit melodramatic, eh?). I’ve been working things out this month with both the dissertation and the job search. At the beginning of the month I felt like I was slapping this dissertation in the face and gleefully yelling “I got you babe” but it was as if I spoke too soon. My dissertation spent two weeks in February fading in and out of consciousness—I was a mere passenger as it tried to work itself out. The dissertation, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, is a beast and most of the time this beast ain’t pretty. It develops a personality; it forges ahead into territories you don’t want it to go; it plops down and takes a week long vacation when you don’t want it to; it rants in a language unknown to the human mind. I’ve spent most of February going back and forth with her and not making a whole lotta head way. I felt so in control the first week of February and so outta control for the rest of the month. I haven’t regained that sense of control until the last couple days, thus, my dissertation and I have been working things out this month (I’ve already warned her that February is the only month she is allowed for this to happen). Yes, ladies and gentleman, the dissertation becomes a living breathing entity, and you bow to her unquestionable powers.
We can work it/we can work it out.
Try and see it my way.
I’m working things out. I finally broke down and practiced coding. It was scary—no joke—and I’ve been putting it off because I’m unsure if I’m right or wrong with my scheme. Silly, right? But in my head if I didn’t think about it then it wasn’t there. Good thing for me KY wouldn’t let me forgot about it otherwise I’d turn into one of those dissertation lifers. I broke down, though, and even if it’s not going to work at least I know how to start up again. It’s not as scary once you’ve tried it; it was getting to the trying stage that was hard.
Spring break is looming in front of me and as a wise person recently said, “you might find it wise to use some or all of spring break to help you assure that the rest of the term goes well.” Academics might “get” spring break off from teaching but it’s actually an opportunity to work; to get caught up; to get ahead. Some won’t see it that way, I realize, but I see a week’s worth of no commitments and a schedule of nothing but writing, and I’m kinda pumped about that. I have a deadline to meet, and I fully intend to make it. So I’m working it things out with my dissertation—she's finally starting to see things my way.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)