For December 9th

Rocco's

Very interesting articles.

I found this oddly clarifying. It's oversimplified, but it says a lot:

"In 1992, he and his colleagues created the Male Role Norms Inventory, which measures adherence to seven norms of the Western masculinity ideology: Avoidance of Femininity, Fear and Hatred of Homosexuals, Self-Reliance, Aggression, Achievement/Status, Non-Relational Attitudes Toward Sex, and Restrictive Emotionality. Research influenced by Levant's inventory has since revealed that men who embrace more traditional Western masculine ideology are reluctant to discuss condom use with their partners, have less satisfactory relationships, and harbor attitudes that often lead to the sexual harassment of women."

My favorite quote is from the Atlantic article:

"I think that we can motivate people to act," he said over Skype from his home in Minnesota, "but it so often comes from a place of charity, you know? We're trying to motivate men to change masculinity for women, but then it's this paternalistic sort of charity versus trying to get men to change masculinity because of their personal investment in it and their relationships."

I think this is a really important quote because it says that for this to be successful both the external and internal need to be addressed.

For December 8th

Letters (Tess')

Letters can be soooo therapeutic and productive. I use letter writing to get thoughts off of my chest. I don't them. I've also thought about writing a collection of poems that are to people. Many poems are directed to someone who isn't the reader, now that I think of it. I have also used letters to convey my feelings to someone--like I actually deliver them. It's been very helpful because for me, on the page I can take my time. 

I think there is a romantic aspect to letters. To sum up everything in a couple paragraphs or pages is, in a way, a grand gesture. I hope letters are always used because e-mails, in a way, invite a too-rapid response. The response, many times, does not have to be rapid because the letter-writing has given the release. 

The card, also, is a shorter form of the letter. The card is not as grand, however, is noted for its understated nature.

Cathartic (Aimee's)

There's no doubt writing can help heal, especially when people's voices are silenced, like veterans. I really liked how the vets said they write so the guy next to them understands. This takes the form of writing not just as a solo cathartic thing, but also as a venue for others to feel as well. I really admire that intention. 

In the second article, I liked how the author laid out options for what to do with a very emotional piece, and my favorite is the one that says to wait. So what if in today's world communication is fast-- some things deserve time. I've found that I write about the same thing (we briefly talked about this with the alumna who skyped with us) several times-- and in different forms-- until I get it right. And when I do feel like I hit the nail, I feel very relieved. It's, funny, too, because I try to date everything, and sometimes I'll find a scrap of paper that talks about this "thing," but it was years before I finished the "final" piece. Even though that scrap of paper has a one-dimensional or fuzzy take on the "thing," it's still a look in time of my mind at that time. It's still a part of the story.

For December 3rd

Karen's article on choice was super interesting. It was sort of random, with just a look at three cultures, however, it was insightful. I think our American need to decide definitely has its effects. I'm already tired of deciding everything! However, by having such an emphasis on choice, we are giving voice to more. Voice, for many, demands responsibility. Our idea of "everyone can choose" also impedes on potential progression. Not only are decisions made slower, but with this dogma, we tend to value when someone takes personal responsibility instead of identifying systematic causes. This destroys the idea that we all have choice, and maybe that is a part why when any social change happens in America it is met with a lot of denial.


The man in Lauren's post was crazy. I think it's not up to the writer, but the publishing company and the readers. That's why the readers should be open to reading a lot. Writers should always keep writing as long as they have an honest agenda. I think the idea of reading authors and characterize them as "the default" objectifies writing because good writing should just resonate and be it-- no matter who's it from. Good writing should hit not on just a culturally level, but on multiple emotional and intellectual levels.I do also think it's important for readers to read stories about people from around the world. I was very lucky that my school district promoted reading stories from perspectives of minorities in America and people living in Asia and the Middle East. It was always made clear that the Middle East wasn't as harsh as it's been.


I've noticed, from reading the Psychology Today article Charlotte posted, that in college a lot of people respond to "hey, how are you?" with "okay." Many of us are not in the business of hiding our surface feelings. I think this is a sign of progress and a telling aspect of my generation's emotional intelligence. However, when I think about "hiding" our emotions, I think hiding them is human and sometimes necessary. They are bigger things than your feelings a lot of the time. I think it's important for kids to understand when to share and when it's best to focus on others.

Mr. Clean Ads are Gross

"I have an older sister and brother."
"Who's the middle child?"
"My brother, technically, but he was really 'the boy.'"
That's how I explain my siblings. Then I say how it's not as old-school Italian as one might think-- it's just that no one ever referred to Bobby as the middle child. He got jealous that I got a Jansport backpack in the first grade and an L.L. Bean backpack in sixth. That is about how middle child he got. One reason was because my siblings and I are so different -- the expectation for each of us were only the same for driving, schoolwork, and housework (Well, sort of on that last one. Bobby is a ninja when it comes to that). Another reason, no doubt, is people's needs to separate us by gender. While Bobby is like Ashley (my sister) as well as me personality-wise, Ashley and I are so different that our only acknowledged union by anyone is that we are "the girls."

On the research end, I always am taken back when surveys only have "gender" or "sex" available with only two options. It's such a limited scope-- how can one understand the issues with just two options?
I really enjoyed the Buzzfeed fragile masculinity article. Such a waste of money. And why do people think men want to feel like cars? On another note, lately logos have turned to sans-seriff (round) and lowercased logos (Walmart, Sears, Aramark) to give a friendlier, conversational feel. The softer logos also make me think they are becoming more feminized. I wonder how this plays at or am I being hyper-aware.

Competition

Growing up as a fat kid, I was like Emily V. Gordon because I saw myself as out of the competition. I also befriended boys and was a tomboy. However, that was when I was in elementary and sixth grade. Once middle school really started, the boys became too separate from the girls. I had to find a girl group.  I switched around quite a bit, but never because someone felt threatened by me. Even when I lost my baby weight, I always was going to be bigger and, in my mind. therefore never able to compete. So I didn’t-- and even more now do not-- for the most part. A little gossip here or there, but even I get annoyed at myself when I occasionally justify an ill-picked outfit or unfavorable tone of a girl my friends were talking about: “maybe she just had a bad day."

I’ve spent many years trying to be under the radar. I felt so out of the competition I feared it. Now that I think about it, this lack of experience with competition makes me feel a little ill-equipped. What if I really want something over someone else? How will I claim what I want?

Chapter 7

In Trauma to Writing, MacCurdy makes two arguments: trauma lasts with us and good writing is a sign of healing. First she gives information on studies about how people remember trauma vividly and how that reflects in students writing about it often in personal essay class, instead of analyzes a seemingly mundane detail or routine of life. She backs it up with experts' take on trauma: "traumatic memories can be distinguished from normal ones because 'they are not encoded like the ordinary memories of adults in a verbal, linear narrative that is assimilated into an on-going life story'" (165). Because it is not part of the linear narrative, many people remember trauma in snippets. These snippets provide need to write about them but also a challenge. Many early writers have trouble describing the event itself and instead rely on identifying feeling: "In order to cope with trauma and its aftermath, survivors often bury these images because they can get in the way of daily functioning. In those cases, the narratives of the experiences, when offered, often rely on clichés and the "story of the story," that is, the remembered tale which avoids the depth of feeling that clear images generate" (166). Good writing, and good healing, she argues, is when the writer can pass the "story of the story" and find clarity in delving into the traumatic event.

After reading, I looked to Humans of New York to find posts that explained instead of visualized. The most popular posts visualized. Even if there were some explanation in between, it was the conversational tone squeezed into the vivid story that mostly used descriptive, or cold, language. They seemed to have let it "spill out" like on page 176-177.

Setting a Time

Every summer, my mom, my sister, and I watch Beaches. It’s a classic tear-jerker starring Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey as two best friends from opposite coasts and opposite lives. Midler’s C. C. Bloom is a dynamic Jewish singer-actress from the Bronx and Hershey’s Whitney is a WASP whose family has been attending Stanford for four generations. At the end, Hilary dies of a long-running sickness. The shot right after—the best shot—is of a black car moving to reveal the funeral with C.C. standing in dark sunglasses as Whitney’s young daughter cries on a nearby chair. And without fail at this shot, every year, my mom says, half-sarcastically, “get the tissues!” and my sister and I reach to the nearby box and distribute. For ten whole minutes it’s perfectly fine to let the tears run down your face. No one can see you cry because everyone is watching the screen. Some could say this is artificial because the moment is made by a movie. But that’s the accessible thing about it, too. It’s a time carved out to let yourself somewhat go, and in front of other people.

Over the years, the family has been more open about emotions that spawn beyond tear-jerkers. Recently, I had special on my weekly radio show called Frank in Philly in honor of the Pope’s visit. The first hour consisting of Frank Sinatra and the second songs of the Philadelphia sound (a sub-genre of R&B and the beginning of disco). I was too proud of my concept to be shy of playing Sinatra. Not that Sinatra is controversial, but because my grandmother, Connie, died in February. Whenever I was playing golden oldies I called the genre “Your Grandmother’s Music” and she would request Sinatra’s “My Way.” I knew I had to play it. So I did. While it was playing, my sister texted in the family group text: "Connie." It was simple, and that was all that was needed.

This was a set time to be sad, and it wasn’t for a general sadness, but instead for something very recent. The healing of this is part of a project, in a way, of how to deal with my grandmother’s departure.

Mid Term Thought Paper

Over the first half semester of this course, this class has discussed many topics, from the science of the brain to how we see our voices. So far we have discussed how people look at feeling and healing through techniques like journals, community memorials, and the classroom. Our conversations sporadically go from idea to idea, and some get lost between everyone’s different focuses. A topic I would like to focus on is having privilege to feel.

In out textbook, Writing & Healing, academics discuss what they have found about feeling and how they teach it, mostly through writing. Some articles are simply retelling their experiences or a scope of people’s experiences. Something we have to read in the book yet is the idea of having the privilege to take time to work these feelings out.

Troubling thoughts and feelings can happen to anybody, no matter their socioeconomic or cultural status. However, the resources available to people on how to handle the issues differs. Most students luckily have the school system to provide some help. But even that could depend upon the school. There could be a range of what is deemed worth a therapist or counselor’s time. A psychiatrist in a “struggling” high school with a fifth of the student population living with someone other than their parents and every student knowing at least one relative who has been in jail may be busier than one in an “average” suburban school. A kid dealing with a tough break-up may have to wait in line behind the fourth girl so far this year to get pregnant.

 And what if a person is not a student? In order to have the luxury of going to a therapist or a group, they need the money. Under the parity law, many insurance companies offer copays for mental health issues, but not all therapists accept all types of insurance and the copay may not be ideal. Twenty dollars for a session could also be spent for kids’ jeans or two meals for a family or four. If you’re a single parent juggling two jobs and three kids, you may have to think about these costs dearly. And more so, the issue could be time. You may feel guilty for leaving your kids with your sister and holding off on night classes for a nursing degree.

Besides money, time, and availability, there is also the issue of social acceptance. As a writing major at Ithaca College it wouldn’t be unusual if I used creative assignments as an outlet for whatever personal issue I was grappling, and if it’s written well, have people be supportive to me in return. It wouldn’t even be super out of the ordinary if I saw a therapist from CAPS. If my stress and anxiety got so bad I could e-mail my professors and push back my due dates one time without much of a judgement from them, because I do not work from them. I’m so lucky that there are ways that I can deal with the issue that won’t drastically change how I am viewed in my working environment.

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How can we reach those who feel they don’t have the time or money to deal with their issues? How can we provide information on accessible means of healing? How can we encourage people to invest in their mental and emotional health?

Chapter 14

Writing about Suicide was about the class Literary Suicide.

What I found peculiar was that Jeff chose Jon's entries as one to co-write with. I'm still unsure why. Jon's entries were vague and a times a little forced in the metaphors. Am I mean to say that about a personal journal? Yes. I am. I don't know, maybe from the title of the chapter I wasn't expecting to hear about a kid who had a bottle of poison in his garage. There were too many other unanswered questions, like why the hell was the bottle there? Who the hell would let a bottle of poison be next to the extra key?
Not to say that what Jon wrote about wasn't helpful to him, or interesting to see how a mind heals without much edit. But for such an important subject I can' understand why Jeff would choose such an outsider to it. A fascination with suicide has nothing on actually being suicidal. Everyone has pain, everyone could use healing, but there are some points where I personally delegate what to pay more attention to because it's what's more important. All those statistics in the beginning seemed so distant from the focus on Jon.

Who knows, I'm super hungry right now so maybe I missed a couple things.

On another note, this passage:
"In a sense I now consider reading Darkness Visible as a kind of inoculation against depression. You know the way inoculations work: you get injected with a little bit of the virus and your body develops a resistance to it that protects you from it in the future. In doing so, however, you may come down with some symptoms of the disease you're being immunized against. So I suppose in this analogy, my evanescent depression was simply a side-effect of the inoculation."

I've experienced that and I think this was an example of literature and art allowing a space for someone to feel stuff they probably wanted to for a while-- they just now have a guide to feel less lonely.

Chapter 12

A lot of Jerome Bump's essay talked about how to manage feelings. How does one separate thinking, feeling, and thinking about feelings. I can relate to much of what he said-- I, too, tend to focus on thinking about my feelings because there is more control. Or is there? It all depends on how I am managing them. Not necessarily thinking, or trying to put logic to them, but simply understanding what the hell to do with them.

I admire his attempt to have the red-side and the left-side work together in one space -- because let's be honest, we're always feeling. So at some point we should try to hear what is going on. I think balance, too, plays a large part. Because one can easily overthink a feeling and turn it into something else. I think it's dangerous to try to manipulate a feeling or consistently ignoring it. Feelings come and go-- it is you that has changed. Not them.

Clothesline Project

The Clothesline project allows for space to heal for many on a public level by having women decorate shirts that show "their personal experience of violence" as well as "to celebrate their transformation from victim to survivor in a powerful statement of solidarity."

Julier gives an explanation of the project and the differences between it and other memorial projects. Unlike the Vietnam Memorial, the Clothesline Project includes individuality. This gives so much power to the survivors and those affected by the events by giving them control over what they want to share and what they don't. The Clothesline Project also  provides an active event of creating the space. The article did not touch too much on this, but I wonder how much community is there prior to the display and after.

Julier also gave text and some pictures of shirts. She breaks them down into categories to show the variety. I found that this article is one that we actually get to participate within the feeling while also academically learning about it. Each shirt required its own specific attention, as there were in different styles. Some were vague and focused on the feeling, and some included specifics. Either way, I felt for each one. 

Chapter 8

Alice G. Brand's essay on science of the brain concluded this way: healing is a form of learning. Any gain we make with our minds if technically an alteration-- that's how we might feel confusion about something, and then once we write it out it becomes more clear, or at least easier to handle emotionally.

This reminded me of a book I read in a class called Decisions Decisions Decisions. I forget the name of the book, but the whole argument was that emotion was crucial to making decisions. Humans are can barely objectify fully. Pretty everything we think and say have some sort of feeling towards it. It also explains why some science findings get skewed-- there is the political climate, backed by money and feelings, that can sway us. Sometimes memory (and feeling) can be forgotten, but either way, it has made an impact.

Personally, I've been told to not try to figure out why I feel the complicated feelings I feel. It's too much time and effort and it's full of dissappointment. I should move forward and do what's best for me. Sometimes I feel that as humans we are full of formulas and the one we always try to reach for is to be happy-- read a book, go outside, eat good food, spend time with friends. But is that just a distraction from the real thing? What if we write and we don't feel great about what he taught ourselves? Not to mention that trying to figure out the happy formula or always trying to live up to it is exhausting for many.

Uncomfortable Complicity

I can’t think of any. I know that’s bullshitty to say, but it’s true. All I can think about are going along with a group of friends’ idea, what a restaurant to eat at or a what ride to go on first. Most of these times didn’t feel uncomfortable. If they did, there would be a little feeling of constraint or waiting for an “I told you so” moment while I calculated that staying with the group was better than not. Or if someone was talking shit about somebody, I would add in other qualifiers, “yeah, but he’s generally a good guy. He’s just trying.” I always use “just trying.” I use that because most people can’t make sense of the world they’re in or want to get out so all they can do is try. The result, however, may be mostly out of their hands. I wouldn’t be happy if someone was talking about me so objectively, and I know I do stuff that could bring it up.  The Golden Rule and the “if they jumped off a cliff would you do the same? No, you would not” thing was highly instilled in me from my parents. I watched so much Full House and Step by Step that I don’t have any after school specials of my own for this category. Situations like these are pretty simple—just look at the scene from the camera’s view, and you’ll see yourself looking like an asshole then feeling guilt in Act 2. Guilt for not pointing out what you think should be said and guilt for lying to yourself. You are supposed to be your best friend, after all, and if you lie to your best friend, what kind of person are you?

Who knows, maybe I do have a couple moments deep in my mind. I like to compartmentalize my bad memories. I have a set of them, each with a story arch, and that’s what I tell. So there could be some moment perfect for this prompt somewhere in my history, but I’m too lazy to—or maybe don’t feel it’s personally necessary to—dig up a bad memory at this time.

Chapter 3

On pages 34 and 35 Warnock says, “Indirection is the way we find direction; only rarely do we live by the straight and narrow, travel the direct route, or know where we're going before we begin.” I know everyone has heard something like this before, but I still find it comforting to hear because this happens in life and in writing. And in the case of personal, the story is probably a little messy. The only thing you can clean up is the non-quoted diction and syntax. 

I also highly enjoyed this section on page 36, “You never have to start writing because you are always writing, and you never have to stop writing because you're always working on many things at once. In addition, you're always learning, figuring, and doing rhetoric; your work is never done.” For one, it gives me an excuse to not be someone who is always writing a novel or writes five pages every day or something. I’m a worker writing when I write for school or online, and then I am also a passive writer when I tuck away ideas for later. Either way, there is the constant question to life events or ideas: "how am I going to arch this?" Isn't there a story everywhere?

Another quote on page 37 sticks out, “Our arguments do not rely on claims to truth or on logical absolutes. Rather, our arguments rely on common grounds between writers and readers who are willing to give a little in order to come to terms, since that is the aim of their rhetoric.” This really speaks to the relationship between writer and reader and allows the writer to tell his/her point of view. Many of what we write is about how we feel, and though it is not fact, within the POV lies a certain truth in which the reader can choose to accept, empathize, sympathize, and/or reject.

Voice (Chapter 1 and 2)

As a kid, I didn’t worry about volume or power of my voice because I had to spend too much time trying to form the words correctly. When my mother first told me I had to go to speech class I got nervous because I thought I would have to stand on stage and announce Shakespeare. I was happily surprised when I entered an office with a handful of other kids playing games. So from first to fifth grade I went to these classes, skipping out of other lessons or going very early in the morning. I got “th” and “s” confused and had trouble with “sh” and “ch.” I was also generally a messy speaker. Many times I would say something and kids would never respond, not realizing I spoke or feeling too awkward to ask me to repeat.

I should have been in speech longer, but once I was in middle school the service was only offered after hours. My parents figured that I could get by because I no longer messed up syllables so it wasn’t deemed necessary. Those days I was still asked to repeat, and sometimes I just stayed quiet because I didn’t feel like pronouncing everything. And as time went on, people started noticed my impediments less and instead focused on something else.

Towards the end of eighth grade, two boys made fun of the way I moved my hands when I spoke. I’m half-Italian and when I get very comfortable and excited tend to wave my hands around. They challenged me to talk without them, and naturally, because there was so much hype over this, I had a hard time. But maybe it wasn’t just because I couldn’t; maybe it because I didn’t want to. Though the school was only fifteen minutes from South Philly, lots of kids commented on how I said “wuder” and when “library” became “liberry” because so many of the students in my school were daughters and sons of transferred professors and lawyers. Most of their families came from out of state while most of mine were in the same county.

So during the first week of freshman year at IC when my friends didn’t know what the word “beggle” was (it’s bagel), I wasn’t surprised. My accent has been addressed to me so many times and I’ve learned how to use it to my advantage. Whenever I want to charm someone I suddenly make sparks with my hands and do an almost Fonzie-like “eh” followed by a typical ‘talian “yoo know.” Instantly I become your average Jane—or should I say Janie Marie Palermo.

Sometimes I still get into my mumble pattern and get frustrated when I have to put in so much effort to be understood. And when I do get mad the accent comes out, waving arms and all. 

Whose Voice is it Anyway?

Read Ann Ruggles Gere's article (chapter 2)  "Whose Voice Is It Anyway?"     Write a new blog entry.  Represent her argument and what you find most compelling about it.  Identify what you'd like the class to focus on in response to the essay, and pose a question for discussion.  Post your blog entry by 10 a.m. Thursday morning.


Gere's argument is that a person's voice is made up of multiple influences from people. These influences prove to not only shape a person's voice (both physically and contextually) but also can help to give voice to other people.

I think her argument was interesting but not very compelling because her presentation was muddled. I wasn't sure what I was reading, as it started personal then jumped then had references from literature, some parts without much contribution to her argument.


I found her last quote of Their Eyes Were Watching God very telling and for Gere answers the question: can you tell someone else's story properly? And my question for class is: can you?

Another point of note is the Coles and Vote's quote on page 32.

Writing and Healing Introduction

I found the introduction interesting but also a little too didactic in feel because there was not statistics and I was expected to take their word for it. Some key terms of the introduction are “control,” such as in this section, the chief healing effect of writing is thus to recover and to exert a measure of control over that which we can never control—the past” (7). This is important because the traumatic event is probably defined by danger and uncontrollability. However, healing doesn’t mean the person gets to completely control the present: “healing is neither a return to some former state of perfection nor the discovery or restoration of some mythic autonomous self. Healing, as we understand it, is precisely the opposite. It is change from a  singular self, frozen in time by a moment of unspeakable experience, to a more fluid, more narratively able, more socially integrated self” (7).

I also found this passage on page 3, “finding themselves in a culture that could not or would not understand or accept them, veteran’s symptoms only intensified” explains a part of the aftermath well and that trauma is not just the event itself but also how one carries that event with them in daily life. I also like how the authors did not specify an end result per say but definitely defined what is not the beginning, “healing arises from just such confusion and psychic pain, never from peace. It is when we are overloaded with past and present trauma that we are motivated to take on the difficult work of healing”(5). They briefly mentioned time, "traumatic events, because they do not occur within the parameters of "normal" reality, do not fit into the structure and flow of time," and this I found interesting and possibly similar in concept to any notable moment in a person's life (6). I also respected the honesty of the writers when they said that it can be challenging for teachers to deal with a student who writes about traumatic events as there is more needed attention both potentially time-wise  and in the discussion of the piece.

All of these pieces I found suitable to talk about in class.