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Evolution Essay

February 2015

 

             I started writing in high school. After a traumatic event that left me without a voice for over two months, the only way I could communicate was through the written word. So, naturally and with little other choice, I got pretty good at it. But once I got to college, my writing fell into the background as I pursued my life-long dream of becoming a doctor. It took only three semesters of complete and total misery for me to realize I was trying too hard to force myself into a mold that was just not built for me. This was an extremely hard realization to come to, but by understanding that studying medicine was just not in the cards for me, I was able to see the potential for growth that I had in other areas of my academic career. That was when I found out about the Minor in Writing, and three years later, the quest to figure out what is next continues as I embark on the Capstone course.

             As I reflect on the writing I have done over my years at the University of Michigan, it is hard not to think back on the stories that lead to each of these pieces. For the most part, the assignments and projects I have written and created for the minor have had a strong emotional component that speak to the real and raw feelings that I have encountered throughout my life. It has been fascinating to look back at my writing and witness how far I have come in such a short amount of time. Not only that, but backtracking through my early work, I have noticed that the emotions I try and convey to the reader, interfere with the argument I am trying to make.

             I am an emotional person. Not the kind who cries all day long or feels defeat at every step along the way, but a person who feels deeply and passionately about my life and the people in it. How do I know this? Besides feeling it, I can see it in my writing. When reading a prompt for a writing assignment, instead of thinking of a business idea or coming up with a fictional story of a post-apocalyptic world, my mind immediately traces my personal experiences and how I can bring the prompt to life through what I have lived and learned. This emotion, whether happy or sad, inspired or scared, comes through in my writing automatically. And though there are times when this style of writing is completely appropriate, there are other times when it is not. The inability to separate emotion from argumentation is a specific area of growth that I have seen in my writing. I have always been able to write, but I had to learn how to write in an argumentative and academic way.

             Separating my emotions from my writing was a hurdle for me. My writing is honest and raw when it is about experiences, feelings, people and places that I know and love. For years, I thought that leaving out certain details or lines would take away from my argument. For example, I was enrolled in a Judaic Studies class my sophomore year and when I was asked to write about my Jewish identity, I knew exactly where I needed to start. Talking about one’s religious identity is always personal and often hard to articulate, but this assignment came at a time when I was confronted face to face with the triggers that lead me to my Jewish Identity—the death of my grandfather. I was always a lover of Judaism. Though never particularly religious, I was always devoted to the traditions of my family. But, after my grandfather’s untimely death and then the painful breakdown of my parent’s marriage, having faith and believing in something greater than myself, disappeared completely. So, when handed this assignment, my writing went right back to the source, to try and make sense of what happened and figure out what went so wrong. Instead of chronologically working through the events or aspects of the religion that pushed me away from Judaism and my beliefs, I chose to write an emotional letter to my grandfather. It begins like this: 

Dear Gramps,

Your death was untimely. It was sudden, it was shocking, and it was raw. When your heart gave out,

so did mine. My heart, one that had withstood its fair share of pain and difficulty in this short life,

floundered in the intensity of that one phone call telling me you were gone. You left and took all of

my faith with you. I was 15 years old and just trying to get by.

The letter goes on to discuss how my relationship to him was the biggest part of my Jewish Identity and how losing him made me lose myself for a while. It was so incredibly important for me to go through this writing process and see how I came to be where I am in terms of my religion.  Looking back though, I do not believe the letter was appropriate for the prompt or academic setting I was in. Instead of writing an essay on my Jewish identity and having my beliefs justified and explained by credible authors that we touched on in class, I chose to go to a deep place within myself to find the answers. My argument here is not that my words were not valid, right or wrong, but that my emotions were misplaced. Instead of characterizing my identity in an academic way, I instead chose an extremely emotional approach to appeal to my readers. I conclude my letter to my grandfather with this:

Gramps, this is my story, and in a way, your legacy. Though you are no longer here, you are still

very much a part of it. I know you are around me always. Your energy surrounds me, warms me,

guides me, and protects me.  Thank you for this exceptional life.

I am proud of this writing. It took a lot for me to be so honest with myself about scary and sad feelings, but in the end I was able to grow and learn from it in a way I did not anticipate. Reflecting now, I would have approached this assignment a little differently; I would have still written the letter, but this time, I would have scribbled it down inside my personal journal. Then, I would have taken the research that we needed to base our arguments off of and generated my partly personal, but mostly academic piece on my Jewish Identity.

            It wasn’t until English 225 in my junior year that I was able to understand that there is a way to include one’s emotions and beliefs in an academic argumentation piece without losing the argument to an ethos appeal. In a challenge to myself, I decided to choose my final research paper on a topic I had already visited—my Jewish Identity. Though the scope of the assignment was much bigger, (I had to share the implications of today’s practices to all Jewish-Americans), I took this opportunity to reopen the assignment and see if I was able to write with a focus on my research, rather than my experience:

Coming from a strictly Jewish household with both parents born and raised Jewish, I was always

built with the mentality of marrying someone within the Jewish religion. For me, the alternative of

marrying someone not Jewish was never even an option. But for so many unengaged Jews,

intermarriage is not only an option, but a conscious decision. “Sarah Coleman, an intermarried [woman],

pointed out that “in forming partnerships with non-Jews, we intermarrieds are spreading Jewish

values and culture into the population at large” (McGinity 197). And she is not wrong. Growing up

in an interfaith household most definitely produces adults and children who are open to multiple

religions, cultures and values. And yes, this is an important thing to be in this dynamic and turbulent

world, but this debate isn’t about being a global citizen, it’s about the future continuity and presence

of Judaism in America in twenty years time.

This excerpt was my first time bridging the gap between emotion and reason. My stance on the issue of intermarriage is still there, but it is just less emotional. I approached this piece by going back to the literature and to the scholars who have researched this topic in great depths, instead of referencing what my grandfather used to tell me. This assignment showed me that I am able to write on the same topic in two very different ways without losing any credibility or strength. Not only that, but argumentative writing is such a useful skill to have, and this class gave me the versatility to apply it to future assignments.

             The importance of academic argumentation is far-reaching. It is so crucial for a person to be able to eloquently and academically stand behind an issue and defend his/her beliefs. But, as much as I understood the concept of this writing style, I could not execute it. Creative pieces are fluid and go where the author takes them. On the other hand, argumentative pieces require more of a formula of thought, a logical order that must exist in order for the argument to come across to the audience.  Building this structure is what I struggled with.  I had a hard time sifting through my ideas and laying them out in an order that pushed my argument forward. It took an entire semester of class time and office hours for me to learn how to let go of the creative, free-flowing writing process and transition into one that required more planning and research. But, before long, I was producing essays filled with specific goals and arguments, necessarily leaving behind the lines of lofty and disorganized thoughts that used to dominate my writing.

            I figured out the ‘secret’ to writing academic argumentation because I learned what worked for me—outlines. To this day, before I open up my computer or pull articles for research, I take a blank piece of paper and write a basic outline of my thesis, my resolve and the supporting evidence I want to use. I do this to avoid getting lost in my thoughts. If I have a clear layout of where my piece is and where it is going, then my thoughts flow better, build on each other and make my argument stronger. It sounds so simple but in a time when a pen and paper is considered ‘outdated,’ it is easy to forget how beneficial it can be to scribble ideas out and adjust them to make the most sense for the audience.

            With each passing semester, I am reminded that my writing is always a work in progress. There will never be a time when I can stop growing and exploring, but that is the exciting part! As I embark on this semester’s capstone project, I know the journey is hardly ending, but just continuing. And that never-ending quest for growth and exploration is what I want to channel in my final project. As I begin to dig into the ways we chose to present and preserve ourselves through photography and social media, I am realizing that it is always changing. We never stop molding and revising how people view us, and we keep a close watch on what we choose to share and what we choose to keep for ourselves. This fluctuation is fascinating because it accepts the inevitable nature of change and allows us to always be a work in progress.

             As I finish up the minor in writing, it is hard to overlook how impactful it has been. With the encouragement of thinking big and thinking deeply, this curriculum has been so much more than just completing assignments and systematically going through all of the prerequisite courses for the degree. Instead, this program has worked alongside me as I have readjusted my academic and career goals. My writing has certainly grown over the last few semesters, but more importantly than that, I have grown into the person I want to be over the last few semesters. With a minor that has allowed me the freedom to explore who I really am and what I really want in life, while providing me with the necessary structure to be successful, I have been able to create a mold for myself that is both rewarding and exciting.

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