Dear Reader,
My name is Christine Patrikian and I’d like to welcome you
to my English 115 blog! This is my first semester here at CSUN. I am currently
majoring in Vocal Performance and so far I have loved learning more about the
music and technique with my singing.
Throughout this English class I have loved getting the
opportunity to create my own blog and showcase my writing on it. I have learned
a lot in this class including how to improve my essays and writing. Now I am
excited to show you a couple essays from this class here, and for this
portfolio I have chosen my first essay of the class and my last essay of the
class.
In the first essay from
this class, I analyzed the memoir Holy
Land by d.j. waldie. My main focus of this essay was that the people of
Lakewood were letting the thought of an ideal hide all the impurities and the
whole ideal was more of an idea. I loved writing this because the whole time, I
got to make my own connections with how I have seen Lakewood since I am around
that area often. It was interesting to read about how popular it was before and
see how much it has changed.
The Last essay is my analysis of myself as a writer and the
journey, along with what changed me the most as a writer. I thought this
progression was great because I got to look back at old writing assignments and
think about everything I have done to help me get to where I am in writing
today. I remember the struggle in the beginning and some big moments when I was
really proud of my work. While writing the last essay, it made me think of how
much I have grown as a writer throughout the years and throughout the semester.
A lot has happened this semester and I am proud to say that
I still stayed focused and never lost sight of the main goal. There of course
were times when I thought it would be hard to catch up or get everything done
but somehow I managed to and I feel really good about that. I have learned so
much in class and outside of class during this transitional semester from a
home life and high school to the dorm life and college. It’s all very different
but I can honestly say that I like college so much more than high school and I
feel like it’s hard sometimes but it is the right difficulty level.
Finally, I would like to thank you for taking the time to
read my blog and I hope you enjoy it!
Sincerely,
Christine Patrikian
Progression 1
The Ideal or Simply the Idea
In the memoir holy land by D.J. Waldie, we learn more about Southern California
life and cities through personal bits. Waldie shows us, his text and pictures,
the building of and the secrets of the ideal city, Lakewood. Every aspect of
Lakewood, to the public eye, was ideal. Houses were rarely empty so there was a
big community. Also, the whole city had a look of perfection with a grid plan
for the houses and a similar look all around in order to keep uniformity. With
all the hype about this “ideal city”, it was hard to look at in any other way,
but Waldie explains the imperfections that others just ignored. Even the
perfect place has its bad secrets. With Waldie’s interest in cities from a
young age, he managed to obtain a city job and that certainly made it so that
he knew almost everything that went on there. So if there are so many
imperfections, is Lakewood really the ideal city or just an overpublicized
idea? In Waldie’s journey discovering that answer, we can see a detached change
in his personality, which makes me wonder if he was just too invested in the
city. In this memoir, Waldie shows us the secret or not acknowledged dangers in
the homes, dangers on the streets, how it all affected him negatively and the
overly positive publicity; all showing that Lakewood is not as ideal as it
seems.
Waldie tells us, “as a boy, [he]
made cities in the dirt behind [his] house” (131). With such interest in
cities, he went on thinking highly of well built ones.
Lakewood was the perfect well built city to work for, or so he thought. There were actually more imperfections than he noticed at a young age, but he did see that when his brother was young, he, “jimmied open the aluminum window screen in his room, jumped out, and wandered wearing only a diaper” (157). Having a 2 year old be able to do that must mean that parts of the house were poorly made. While looking more into the safety of these houses, Waldie interviewed Dr. Hutton. One concern was about how these California houses would handle earthquakes, and Dr. Hutton quickly, “talked about houses sliding off their foundations and the dangers of flying glass and falling bookshelves” (137). With houses that have all of those dangers, one would assume they would not want to be in them during an earthquake. However, in Lakewood, since everything is so close that houses can slide into you, “…these houses were about the safest place you could be,” (138). It is unfortunate that what is supposed to be the ideal city is extremely dangerous, just not in an obvious way. Since the danger is not obvious, that makes it easier for the public to ignore. Additional danger is brought to our attention when Waldie explains the flooding and how, “[a] week in 1953…it rained with no letup”(157). The city was not built to handle that type of rain so, “when it rains hard [there], flood channels fill up quickly” (154).
The
scariest and saddest part though is when he tells of how the poor little boys
would sometimes, “be caught in the suddenly rising water […] Once a boy drowned
in one of the channels; another boy drowned in a flooded sump” (154). The
danger of poor construction is only where the sloppiness of the city begins.
Lakewood was just able to distract from all of the danger by positively
publicizing and emphasizing the thought of being the “ideal city”.
With the public being so exposed to only positive publicity, it must have been hard hearing the other side of the story. Waldie was constantly having to listen to residents complain but, “before they complain, callers often begin by telling [him] how long they have lived there,” as if that makes them more trustworthy or a better source (88). In a situation where a resident calls to complain, the city officials can then look into it and try to find something more serious, such as danger or something illegal. They even found a suicide that, “was first reported as a murder – a man had been stabbed to death, his body dumped into the city’s wildflowers and the body set on fire,” but later, they found that he had “murdered his stepdaughter… then killed his wife… then got into his car and began to drive” (53). In a position like Waldie’s, where he gets to hear the good parts and all of the bad parts of the city, it seemed to make him feel slightly depressed. All the bad got to him and that is why he seems very unconnected at some points. It’s like he is writing about his parents to feel better about everything, but he remains detached. Waldie starts off with more optimistic bits about his family such as, how his Father, “was a good Catholic” (110), and how “he was a very good driver” (128). Although he describes some good in their life, he often went on to tell of their deaths multiple times in the memoir. His “mother died in 1979. Before she died, she lived through five years of increasing disability from heart disease”(115). More description and care seemed to be put into the thought of his father but he still seemed like he talked about it too much, as if thinking about this was just his way of coping with his depression. Waldie knew his “father’s heart was unruly. The beats only flickered through the monitor,” and he said he was quickly dead (31). The bit that I noticed his despair in the most was when he said, “Both my parents died before they were seventy, as did my mother’s sister and my uncles Jack, Frank and Ken. I am forty-six”(115). He goes on giving the feeling that he is very close to death and has no hope rather than living his life to the fullest and not thinking about when he may die if he is perfectly healthy. It was the physical danger and constant reminders of it in Lakewood made Waldie this way.
With the public being so exposed to only positive publicity, it must have been hard hearing the other side of the story. Waldie was constantly having to listen to residents complain but, “before they complain, callers often begin by telling [him] how long they have lived there,” as if that makes them more trustworthy or a better source (88). In a situation where a resident calls to complain, the city officials can then look into it and try to find something more serious, such as danger or something illegal. They even found a suicide that, “was first reported as a murder – a man had been stabbed to death, his body dumped into the city’s wildflowers and the body set on fire,” but later, they found that he had “murdered his stepdaughter… then killed his wife… then got into his car and began to drive” (53). In a position like Waldie’s, where he gets to hear the good parts and all of the bad parts of the city, it seemed to make him feel slightly depressed. All the bad got to him and that is why he seems very unconnected at some points. It’s like he is writing about his parents to feel better about everything, but he remains detached. Waldie starts off with more optimistic bits about his family such as, how his Father, “was a good Catholic” (110), and how “he was a very good driver” (128). Although he describes some good in their life, he often went on to tell of their deaths multiple times in the memoir. His “mother died in 1979. Before she died, she lived through five years of increasing disability from heart disease”(115). More description and care seemed to be put into the thought of his father but he still seemed like he talked about it too much, as if thinking about this was just his way of coping with his depression. Waldie knew his “father’s heart was unruly. The beats only flickered through the monitor,” and he said he was quickly dead (31). The bit that I noticed his despair in the most was when he said, “Both my parents died before they were seventy, as did my mother’s sister and my uncles Jack, Frank and Ken. I am forty-six”(115). He goes on giving the feeling that he is very close to death and has no hope rather than living his life to the fullest and not thinking about when he may die if he is perfectly healthy. It was the physical danger and constant reminders of it in Lakewood made Waldie this way.
The amount of physical danger in
Lakewood would at some point become too much for positive publicity to cover up
and it would soon become not just an ideal city. The number of deaths increased
and the safety decreased. Bodies were at times even found dead in houses
otherwise empty. Street muggings even occurred in this “perfect” city. When
looking at a city, one could originally think it is extremely safe depending on
how well planned out it was. The mistakes were made in overpublicizing and
slacking in construction.
So maybe Lakewood is not as ideal as
it seems. The idea, however, was the golden concept here. Hopes of an ideal
city brought excitement to the public. The excitement brought in so much
revenue that the city of Lakewood didn’t have to attempt to waste time making
better quality houses here. While I understand that increasing the quality of
these houses would be more expensive, it is a small price to pay to ensure the
safety of the citizens. If they additionally advertised the safety of Lakewood
then the average citizen may be okay with spending the little extra cost rather
than living in danger. All that mattered in order to seem perfect was the unity
and the illusion of perfection. Even though they were ideal then, as the world
changes, so does our ideal. The standards of a society as a whole get higher,
and focus is constantly shifted to different areas. Yet even an idea that
sounds absolutely flawless can have its bad secrets or imperfections, much like
Lakewood has. The only way to solve these problems is to notice them and take
action rather than just sitting back and letting the flaws control their life.
If the people of Lakewood had not been so oblivious to mistakes, then they may
have been able to petition for improvement. We can all create our own ideal if
the public takes action.
Work Cited
Waldie, D. J. Holy
Land: A Suburban Memoir. New York: W.W. Norton, 1996. Print.
Progression 3
The Year of Progress
Some people
say they can remember the moment they began to learn to read. I may not
remember that but I remember learning being a long and hard process. It was
this long and hard process that helped me gain the work ethic I needed to be able
to handle what I believe to be the year that I improved most as a writer. This
year was very important to me because that was when I really started to grasp
concepts more than I ever had before in writing and recognizing in reading. It
was in 11th grade AP English that I remember changing most as a
writer. Learning so many different writing skills has been something I can not
only look back on, but also continue to improve on. What I learned altogether
changed the way I looked at written pieces. I know that was a year I truly
struggled, but it was also a year where I felt I wrote some of my best essays.
It was always hard to ace my essays in this class, but once I did, I felt
empowered to try even harder to improve and continue doing well in the class.
That year in my Advanced level English class I was challenged everyday with new
things such as analyzing, debates, poetry, the overall effect I believe it had
on the improvement of my literacy, and how my childhood helped me prepare for
exactly those challenges.
Every night and even during the day my
mom read to me and I loved it, but it wasn’t coming to me as easily as I think
she thought it should. As a baby, my whole family thought I was extremely
gifted. I could speak sentences and sing my ABCs by my first birthday. They
assumed reading would come just as easily. When the training began, we all
found out that teaching me to read was not going to be as simple as anticipated.
My mother made me read these travel size pop up books every day in the car.
I
must have read those little books over a hundred times and I learned to hate
them. My parents later bought me a reading computer program that was supposed
to help. My cousin had used it in order to learn to read and it had helped her
tremendously. In not too much time, it did start to help, along with me reading
books every night with my mother’s help. Once I had learned to read, I was
drilled with my handwriting in order to improve. If a sentence or a word was
not neat, I would have to rewrite everything. All of this training had placed
me in the top of my class and honors Writing and Reading groups. Even though I
was there, I sat around and analyzed how the other top students read and I
thought about how I had been bad before. It made me nervous which then made me
scared to read out loud to the rest of the group. With being scared and hesitant,
I became a worse reader and of course, being a worse reader would affect my
overall literacy. It wasn’t till later in high school that I realized how
important literacy is, and also that I needed to make writing a part of my life
in order to succeed.
One of the most important things I think I learned in this class was how to analyze. To practice, we analyzed essays, stories, articles and even paintings.
One of the most important things I think I learned in this class was how to analyze. To practice, we analyzed essays, stories, articles and even paintings.
Each
piece that was analyzed had a different significance. We had to take different
facts given and try to find if the author meant something by saying things in
certain orders or in a certain way. We analyzed books and constantly took
quizzes analyzing each chapter and sometimes the quiz would have a paragraph
from a chapter and we would have to read and analyze it then. Another
assignment I thought really helped was the painting analyzing. It was
interesting trying to figure out what the painting may mean to the painter and
what it meant to us. Once, I even had to analyze and then write a story about a
picture. That made me think more descriptively and I really tried to add
elements of the painting into the story. Another thing analyzing helped me with
was understanding books through analyzing the characters. Understanding books made it easier to write
about them. From that point forward, I analyzed in depth and saw things from a
completely different viewpoint. In order to be a better writer, I needed to be
able to be a good reader, and analyzing helped bring that out in me. I was able
to get an even deeper understanding of what I read.
In the middle of the year we began the debate portion of the class. This was an amazing experience because it not only gave me the chance to write a research paper, but it also had me write a speech. The speech felt amazing to give with all the information I had spent weeks gathering. I felt that I had so much information backing up my side that I wouldn’t have to worry about people going against my topic later. The speech was very fluid and was a hit in the class; however, people did still go against it and argue with me.
In the middle of the year we began the debate portion of the class. This was an amazing experience because it not only gave me the chance to write a research paper, but it also had me write a speech. The speech felt amazing to give with all the information I had spent weeks gathering. I felt that I had so much information backing up my side that I wouldn’t have to worry about people going against my topic later. The speech was very fluid and was a hit in the class; however, people did still go against it and argue with me.
When
the Q&A portion and debate came up, I was completely ready. I had every
answer and I learned to think on my feet about reactions to audience
commentary. This was the first time I had done an actual research paper and I
put my all into it. Now because of this, I feel ready for research papers I may
do in college.
Studying poetry was actually something that changed my high school life. It all started with learning how to analyze the poems. There were many different ways to look at each one and it all depended on what the reader saw in it. Eventually, it came time for us to recite poems. Although I was nervous, I was ready. So I got an A for reciting the poem but from there my teacher asked me and a few other students to join the Poetry Out Loud Contest.
Studying poetry was actually something that changed my high school life. It all started with learning how to analyze the poems. There were many different ways to look at each one and it all depended on what the reader saw in it. Eventually, it came time for us to recite poems. Although I was nervous, I was ready. So I got an A for reciting the poem but from there my teacher asked me and a few other students to join the Poetry Out Loud Contest.
I
eagerly said yes and then in the contest I ended up placing 3rd.
That is what changed things for me. When my name was announced on the loud
speaker, the drama teacher was listening to the results. From there she found
me and told me that she wanted me to audition to be a lead in one of her shows.
That year, I ended up getting a minor character, but the next, I got the lead!
The Poetry Out Loud Contest opened doors for me that I didn’t even think could
ever be possible. Who knew I could go from memorizing a 30-line poem to
memorizing an entire script. Now I see that poetry gave me the confidence in
myself as an actress and speaker and now I no longer have a problem with that.
Throughout the year, my writing was greatly affected. The way I looked at essays, articles, poems, books and even paintings had been changed forever. I thought about things at a completely different angle than I had before. Never before had I thought that one word could change an entire meaning. One word can add so much or even take away so much and that is why it is so important to not miss things like that when analyzing. I learned that one sentence or a paragraph as a whole can have multiple different meanings. Each reader may take something different away from a selection of reading and that is what makes it so special.
Throughout the year, my writing was greatly affected. The way I looked at essays, articles, poems, books and even paintings had been changed forever. I thought about things at a completely different angle than I had before. Never before had I thought that one word could change an entire meaning. One word can add so much or even take away so much and that is why it is so important to not miss things like that when analyzing. I learned that one sentence or a paragraph as a whole can have multiple different meanings. Each reader may take something different away from a selection of reading and that is what makes it so special.
In the end,
it was a long year. I truly did benefit greatly from that class. I felt that my
thought process in analyzing improved the most. In making that skill my base, I
continued to learn more and with that, I became a better writer. It’s easy to
lose sight of what I learned here and just try to write, but taking time to
think about all of these skills helps me improve. Then the more I write this
way, the more I feel myself grow as a writer.
The lessons
I learned to improve my writing have continued to help me even today. I
developed better quote weaving in this class and I can think back to it for
structure help always. Also, everyday I use my analyzing skills that I learned
in this class. I am so glad to have the analyzing experience because I believe
that your analyzing skills only grow through experience and different
opportunities to analyze. Different teachers provide that practice and teach to
expand your knowledge. That is why Helen Keller says, “The most important day I
remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher, Anne Mansfield
Sullivan, came to me” (HK excerpt). Having great teachers myself, I see why
Helen is so strong about her love for this teacher, Anne. Like her, I overcame
“barriers still, it is true, but barriers that could in time be swept away,”
and through much practice, they were (HK Excerpt). My skills then developed to
allow me to take this amazing year of AP English and now I look back and I am
so glad that I did take it. Despite the difficulty level, it made me a better
writer.
Work Cited
Keller,
Helen. The Story of My Life / Helen Keller. 2013 American Foundation for
the Blind. Chapter 5. Excerpt.
