Group Ad Presentation

Summary:
This Ad is for 'new' Rolling Rocks beer and it features a picture of the actual bottle and then a baby drinking it with it's feet. This ad is clearly using satire but at the same time advertising the drink in a funny way. Also it is addressing the fact of genetically modified food by saying that this beer is genetically modified. Also it throws in that the drink is carb free trying to appeal to the general public trying to be healthy. Overall alcohol is normally given a negative connotation but with this Ad it makes you laugh and makes your think of how the description is so off.

Paraphrase:
If you feed your baby a 6 pack of rolling rock he will turn into a genius with finely tuned motor skills. Also it is carb free so your baby will be skinny!

Quote:
"New Rolling Rock is genetically modified and clinically proven to significantly improve your baby's intelligence and motor skills with every six-pack"

In class lab: Ads

1. Some of the publishers in this text are freedom for animals, PETA, and mercy for animals
2. These texts are intended for  animal lovers everywhere. and shoppers to help bring awareness to the product.
3. How can we tell? By the text and images presented show a somber mood, and make you feel for them by showing their "sad" eyes and face. For example the pig in the ad criticizing Walmart, you can see that the pig is "behind bars" and the message is that the harm is being done by Walmart.
4. The purpose is to get the message out that there is overuse and mistreatment of animals and animal products. To not support Walmart, and their massive meat distribution
5. Animals have unique personalities and the message is to really move the idea of empathizing for them
6. "If you wouldn't wear your dog, please don't wear any fur" Additionally they capitalize on the cruelty of what the effect is when you shop at Walmart.
7.  So as a group, these ads tell us that we need to discontinue the use of animal fur manufacturing, inhumane practices of processing meat and make-up testing, we end up having a larger effect on ourselves and may lose more than we think. 

Final Draft

 

Literacy Narrative

            It was a warm morning in late summer when I arrived at school on my first day of third grade. Not only was it the first day for all of the children arriving at Pearson Elementary but I had just transferred over from Silveridge Elementary and was not looking forward to this first day. I had only been transferring because my old school had been too full and my residence being on the borderline they asked me to move over to Pearson. Pearson elementary was a smaller elementary school but still had a good amount of students. Getting ready the hour before I cautiously put on my red long sleeve shirt and dark blue jeans with my hair in two pigtails. I had to make sure everything was perfect so that the kids would like me.  As I rolled through the front doors of my new school with my pink roller backpack I was nervously excited to meet my new teacher and new fellow classmates. Being nervous was not new to me as I had transferred from Poulsbo elementary after kindergarten and now changing schools once again after completely my second year. At my previous school my first grade and my second grade class was the same roll sheet, the same classroom, and the same teacher just different activities and lessons. I walked through the hallways to my classroom with other kids rushing all around me. Some younger, some older. Tall, short, blonde, brunette kids swarmed everywhere. I finally got down the hallway to room four where Mrs. Turkey greeted me with a warm smile and a quaint greeting. She directed me to my seat at a table near the window that was really a collection of tables all in one group. There was already one other girl there in the middle of the far side. She had shoulder length ash blonde hair and chubby cheeks. She wore a blue striped long sleeve and some light blue boot cut jeans. Her hair had a sparkling butterfly barrette to keep her bangs at bay and it sparkled in the sun shining through the window. I sat down in my seat and I glanced over the table. In the top right corner was a name card tapped to the desk with a graphic pencil design and in a beautiful hand written text the name “Jessica”. I quickly made a glance across the tables to read the other girls name tag, with my mediocre reading skills, upside down her name plate spelled out “Rachel”. Looking up from the table tops I scanned the room taking in these new surroundings. There were about 6 table groups and on the wall adjacent to me was a big white board with an array of colorful pens. Across the room from the board and near the outside door to the hallway was the teacher’s desk where Mrs. Turkey stood close by greeting children as they walked in. She wore a dark brown pencil skirt, a light green Sweater, and some matching brown clogs. Her grey tinted long blonde hair glowed in the reflected sunlight and her tanned skin was slightly weathered like she had spent years in the sun. Across the room from her was the big window to the outside world and under the window were about 8 computers. Around the entire room were colored Christmas lights strung along the ceiling creating a warm and happy atmosphere in the room. Being brought back to the present, Mrs. Turkey made her way from the back door to the white board in the front of the room. She greeted the class by introducing herself and then that was the beginning of class.

            After introducing herself she had each kid stand up and tell the class their name and something that they like to do. As each kid took their turn I thought hard about what was so interesting about me. When it came to be my turn I stood up and introduced myself, “Hello my name is Jessica and I play softball”. Once the collective clapping stopped and the next kid began their introduction I sat in silence and observed the other children and their mini speeches. After the last kid, a small boy with choppy brown hair and glasses, completed his speech of, “Hello my name is Daniel and I like drawing” we all took a group trip to the library where we picked up our first book, Charlotte’s Web. The library was a trip outside the main building, up the short amount of stairs, and off into the smaller building that held all the older kid classes, the office, and of course the library. The hallways of that small building were filled with beautiful drawings way more advanced than my color book skills. Right before the doors to the library I saw a sign-up sheet for an ASB welcome party and I wondered what ASB was and who in the world would be involved in that. Walking in the library for the first time at this new school I was astonished at the difference between this library and the library at my previous school. This library had tall walls and the books covered the surroundings of the walls. There were tables all in the middle of the distant area where you could sit and study but right in the vicinity of the door was a split between a lounge area and the checkout desk. The library was warm and there was a slight smell of musk coming from all of the old books. The librarian greeted us all and explained the layout of the library, the simple procedure of checking out books, and her love of her library. Admiring her dedication to her job I waited in line to check out my copy of Charlotte’s web and continue back out the door, down the stairs, and off to my little third grade classroom.  Coming back to the room we all sat in our seats and opened our books to the first page as the teacher directed. Mrs. Turkey wanted us to observe the colorful artwork on the front of the book before she continued to the first page where she read aloud the first paragraph. But after the first paragraph she suddenly stopped and looked around the room. “Okay class now who’s turn is it now?” Mrs. Turkey glanced around the room waiting for a child to raise their hand. After the children took multiple rounds of just looking around and around and around at each other Mrs. Turkey announced we were going to play the popcorn game. The popcorn game is where the current reader reads aloud their designated section and then picks someone else to read the next required section. Using a game was a good way to get the children to enjoy reading as a group. But young Jessica was not the most outgoing child and she was not looking forward to having to read aloud for the entire class of twenty-five to hear and judge. It finally came to be my turn and even though my comprehension skills had been enhanced my speaking skills were not. I struggled and struggled to get the words out but it was an agonizing minute of messing up word after word. I was so embarrassed by the end that I decided this activity would be my least favorite of all time. Another thing that came from this new found hatred of reading aloud was the problem of perfection. I knew that I had the reading skill needed or this activity but for the fact that I could not express that thought and that the other children could possibly think I was illiterate killed my small will for learning and improving. From there on I just could not complete an activity unless it was perfect. Which meant I was never happy with reading aloud advanced books and when it came to writing activities I hated it. Looking back now I wish I had not been so stubborn and just did it knowing that I would eventually get better but unfortunately I had to have an attitude and not do as I was told. I had so many words in my brain that taking the extreme length of time to organize them was not a possibility and so I was just always upset with my work. It made me not a very willing child and I hatted English classes. As an 18-year-old now I still struggle with perfection issues but the sad part is that I’ve learned not to care. With that not caring comes a consistent disappointment in one’s self and I would rather work through a science or math question than sit and struggle with what to say. But also with the maturity of being an adult now I have realized that if you just take that extra second to sit and get things done is much better than not doing anything at all. And as stated previously I have a stubborn personality and I am very good at English when I want to be but want is always the issue. I wish I had the will to do better and I am trying as young Jessica did not.  

very rough draft

Literacy Narrative

            It was a warm morning in late summer when I arrived at school on my first day of third grade. Not only was it the first day for all of the kids arriving at Pearson Elementary but I had just transferred over from Silveridge Elementary and I did not want to leave. Pearson elementary was a smaller elementary school but still had a good amount of students. Getting ready the hour before I cautiously put on my red long sleeve and dark blue jeans with my hair in two pigtails. I had to make sure everything was perfect so that the kids in my new school would like me.  in I rolled through the front doors with my pink roller backpack and white light up sketchers. Those shoes were the coolest all up until 4^th grade when it was too childish to have lights on your shoes. I walked through the hallways to my classroom with other kids rushing all around me. Some younger some older. Tall, short, blonde, brunette kids everywhere. I finally get down the hallway to room four where Mrs. Turkey greeted me with a warm smile and a quiet greeting. She directed me to my seat at a table near the window that was really ^ tables all collected together in one group. There was already one other girl there. She had shoulder length ash blonde hair and chubby cheeks. She wore a blue striped long sleeve and some light blue boot cut jeans. Her hair had a butterfly barrette to keep her bangs at bay and it sparkled in the sun shining through the window. I sat down in my seat and I glanced over the table. In the top right corner was a name card tapped to the desk with a graphic pencil design and in a beautiful hand written text the name “Jessica”. I quickly made a glance across the tables to read the other girls name tag with my mediocre reading skills and upside down her name plate spelled “Rachel”. Looking up from the table tops I scanned the room taking in these new surroundings. There were about 6 table groups and on the wall adjacent to me was a big white board. Across the room from the board was the teacher’s desk where Mrs. Turkey stood close by greeting children as they walked in. She wore a dark brown pencil skirt and a light green Sweater. Her grey tinted long blonde hair glowed in the reflected sunlight and her tanned skin was slightly weathered like she had spent years in the sun. Across the room from her was the big window to the outside world and under the window were about 8 computers. Around the entire room were colored Christmas lights strung along the ceiling bringing a warm happy feeling to the room. Being brought back to the present, Mrs. Turkey made her way from the hallway door in the back to the front of the room. She greeted the class by introducing herself and that was the start of class.

            After introducing herself she had each kid stand up and tell the class their name and something that they like to do. When it came to be my turn I stood up and introduced myself, “Hello my name is Jessica and I play softball”. Once the collective clapping stopped and the next kid began their introduction I sat in silence and observed the other children and their mini speeches. After the last kid was done with all took a group trip to the library where we picked up our first book, Charlotte’s Web. The library was a trip outside the main building, up the short amount of stairs, and off into the smaller building that held all the older kid classes, the office, and of course the library. Walking in the library for the first time at this new school I was astonished at the difference between this library and the library at my old school. This library had tall walls and the books covered the surroundings of the walls. There were tables all in the middle of the distant area where you could sit and study but right in the vicinity of the door was split between a lounge area and the checkout desk. The library was warm and there was a slight smell of musk coming from all of the old books. The librarian greeted us all and explained the layout of the library, the simple procedure of checking out books, and her love of the library. Admiring her dedication to her job I checked out my copy of Charlotte’s web and walked back out the door, down the stairs, and back to my little third grade classroom.  Coming back to the room we all sat in our seats and opened our books to the first page. Mrs. Turkey directed us to the first page where she read aloud the first paragraph. But after the first paragraph she suddenly stopped and looked around the room. “Okay class now who’s turn is it now?” Mrs. Turkey glanced around the room waiting for a child to raise their hand. After the children took multiple rounds of just looking around and around and around at each other Mrs. Turkey announced we were going to play the popcorn game where she would pick the first child to read and then they would pick the next and then the next would pick the next and on it went. Using a game was a good way to get the children to want to read as a group. But young Jessica was not the most outgoing child and she was not looking forward to having to read aloud to the entire class of twenty-five. It finally came to be my turn and even though my comprehension skills had been enhanced my speaking skills were not. I struggled and struggled to get the words out but it was an agonizing minute of messing up word after word. I was so embarrassed by the end that I decided this activity would be my least favorite of all time. Another thing that came from this new found hatred of reading aloud was the problem of perfection. I knew that I had the reading skill needed or this activity for the fact that I could not express that and that the other children probably thought I was illiterate killed my small child soul. From there on I just could not complete an activity unless it was perfect. Which meant I was never happy with reading aloud advanced books and when it came to writing activities I hated it. I had so many words in my brain that taking the extreme length of time to organize them was not a possibility and so I was just always upset with my work. It made me not a very willing child and I hatted English classes. As an 18-year-old now I still struggle with perfection issues but the sad part is that I’ve learned not to care. With that not caring comes a consistent disappointment in one’s self and I would rather work through a science or math question than sit and struggle with what to say. But also with the maturity of being an adult now I have realized that if you just take that extra second to sit and get things done is much better than not doing anything at all.

How Others View Rhetoric

I enjoyed reading what other people had to say about the way we all think and react rhetorically. Personally it took me awhile to define rhetoric from my view point and it felt like a bunch of pieces I couldn't quite fit. Saying that is probably because I am out of practice in writing but reading what others had to say helped me to form my thoughts into well oiled ideas. Also while reading my peers definitions I saw the importance of rhetoric in the physical world not just on a piece of paper or a computer screen. It is important to not only write rhetorically but to think and express your actions rhetorically because if you are well versed in this art you will be able to contribute to the culture of the world instead of just being another breathing mammal. Ideas, thoughts, feelings all similar all needing to be expressed are important to a culturally different world. Getting your views out there could change the world for the better or just simply contribute to someone else who has the power to do so. Like martin Luther King Jr. did and how Barack Obama is trying to do now. Everyone has important ideas inside of them just not everyone has to power in the world or in their head to make a change.

Definition of Rhetoric?

There is an array of different definitions of rhetoric. The dictionary defines it as an art form in how a writer expresses his ideas through different figures of speech. I personally think that the definition of rhetoric, as I see it, is how one chooses to freely express his ideas while skillfully convincing another of his views. I say this because there are many techniques involved in using rhetoric. The main being knowing your purpose, audience, stance, medium, design, and context. That seems like a lot of things to take into consideration and it really is. But mastering the art in using these techniques easily you will be able to write rhetorically. Writing rhetorically is import to being a well spoken writer. Without mastering these skills you can still write freely but you will not be able to convince others of your ideas or even to just let them see what your are thinking. writing rhetorically also involves thinking rhetorically. You write what you think and if you cannot think rhetorically how are you expected to write rhetorically? all of these things seem like a bunch of mismatched pieces to a puzzle but with practice one will be able to do everything in one well written genre of choose.

Rhetorical Situations: narratives

Differences/ similarities:

Many differences were found in the first question where some of us thought people find strength between themselves, some viewed that you don’t understand the severity of a situation until you experience it first hand, and then some thought that you have to listen and learn from those around you no matter who it is. Also differences were found in the second question whether it was first or third person view. Similarities were found in the third question where we all talked roughly about the same diction used to describe the scene. And last of all very differently wrote was the question about who the target audience was and the tone. One view was that it was a human interest piece of that it was intended for fellow doctors to read upon and share. Another view was that it was intended as a hopeful piece to get people involved in the hurricane efforts.

Connections:

With Lydia’s story it really emphasizes the point in chapter two of audience and tone. Specifically Brideau writes to a specific audience and uses specific diction to persuade the audience to see the horrors Lydia went through but the hope she held to the end.

Think about discussion:

Many narratives are found in songs and work stories we have decided.

Think Beyond Words:

It helped us watching the videos because you can first hand see the emotion being portrayed in the personas story. Not saying that it could not be seen in the writings but it was just easier for us to see through a video.

Compare Narratives:

Different narratives we are interested are songs like the hills from the weekend. Also news stories we have heard lately like the most recent shooting in Oregon. All of the stories we have heard are all important whether it may seem relevant or not.

Think Beyond Words

I personally think the video stories are more powerful because you can first hand see the persons emotions while telling the story. That does not mean the written stories are not as powerful because some people express their feeling through words more effectively then expressing their emotions. It just depends on the person picking the media.

Think About

One song that really came to mind when thinking about different genres of narratives being told was a song called 'Whiskey Lullaby' by Brad Paisley. It is a story about a man who drinks himself to death because he is upset by an ex lover and then years later that ex lover committed suicide as well because of her guilt. That is definitely a story to be told in a sweet sorrow sounding way. Also a type of story i hear almost everyday for 7 hours straight are work stories that are either funny or bad.

Questions on Lydia's Story

1) In my opinion Brideau's story about Lydia was to show us the importance in listening to those around us and learning from their stories whether they are our friends at home or a random homeless person in a shelter. The purpose is indicated in the very last paragraph where Brideau talks about all the people she has met on her journey and how even though they are all important stores, Lydia's stuck with her the most. 2) The point of view of Lydia's story is from third person. It is solely about Lydia but is only focused on Lydia and her actions. The impact set on the reader is you get a full setting without having the story be clouded by the characters emotions and seeing one view of the story. 3) Brideau makes Lydia's story come alive in many ways. Specifically she uses diction to open the readers mind to the story. Specific diction used were words like soaking, poured, rushing, swept, waded, cramped, and many more. All diction to describe the terror of the scene.  4)The audience for this piece could range between persons interested in the hurricanes, to people involved in the hurricanes. Brideau's tone gives hope to those affected by the hurricanes in that Lydia made it through all of this terror and so can they. Also Brideau's hopeful tone can convince people not involved to get involved in helping those affected by the storms.

Chapter 2 Question

This past week many different forms of writing  have been completed. The first one of course being on this blog, was of an analytical but persuasive genre. It was a short piece about whether I believe everyone is an author. The target audience for this was for my professor but also my fellow students. Saying that means the piece was more formal than informal and had a purpose of a prompt. Another form of writing I have done this week were text messages. These actually did range from formal to informal because in one instance I was texting my mom about being sick and needing cold medicine but another instance was texting my boss about being able to come in early to cover a coworker's shift. Both are of the same genre but ranged vastly in purpose and stance. Stance specifically because one I was trying to persuade my mom and the second making sure to be professional while telling my boss whether I want to come in or not. A very important piece of writing I have done in the past month where there was a very big emphasize on context was my letter to my boss instilling my application to be a shift leader. I had to focus of being formal and professional while connecting with my audience and showing my personality. I also had to analyze myself as a worker and persuade my boss to believe in my skills as much as I do.