2

Redhawk ​
Writing Collection

COMPILED BY THE DEPARTMENT OF WRITING STUDIES, ​

MONTCLAIR STATE UNIVERSITY
 3

©2022 Montclair State University, Department of Writing Studies. This work is licensed under
the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. To
view a copy of this license, visit [Link] or send a
letter to Creative Commons, PO Box 1866, Mountain View, CA 94042, USA.
 Table of Contents
Acknowledgements​ 2

Welcome Letter from the Director of First-Year Writing​ 3

What to Expect in WRIT 105​ 4

Major in Public and Professional Writing​ 5

Minor in Public and Professional Writing​ 6

Section I: The Literacy Narrative​ 7

Introduction, Literacy Narrative​ 8
Early Draft, Rose Schnackenberg’s “Literacy Narrative”​ 9
Middle Draft, Rose Schnackenberg’s “Literacy Narrative”​ 12
Final Draft, Rose Schnackenberg’s “Literacy Narrative”​ 15

Section II: The Documented Narrative​ 18

Introduction, Documented Narrative​ 19
Final Draft, Amya Prescott’s “More Than Braids and Hair Beads”​ 20
Early Draft, Rachel Rubio’s “Code of Passion”​ 24
Middle Draft, Rachel Rubio’s “Code of Passion”​ 27
Final Draft, Rachel Rubio’s “Code of Passion”​ 32
Early Draft, Carli Vinciguerra’s “Learning to Grow”​ 37
Middle Draft, Carli Vinciguerra’s “Learning to Grow”​ 39
Final Draft, Carli Vinciguerra’s “Learning to Grow”​ 41

Section III: The Analysis Essay​ 43

Introduction, Analysis Essay​ 45
Early Draft, Nick Beyer’s “Chained to the Rhythm”​ 46
Middle Draft, Nick Beyer’s “Chained to the Rhythm”​ 48
Final Draft, Nick Beyer’s “Chained to the Rhythm”​ 50
Final Draft of Adriana Herrera’s “A Rhetorical Analysis of ‘The Dangers of a Single Story’”​ 52

Section IV: The Argument Essay​ 54

Introduction, Argument Essay​ 55
Final Draft of Raymond Tisch’s “False Representation”​ 56

Resources​ 59
 2

Acknowledgements
Thank you to the Montclair State University student writers, included in these pages, who
trusted future readers with their writing. Special thanks to the Department of Writing Studies’
Exemplary Essay Committee, who selected these essays out of many submissions: Bridget
Brown (chair), Melissa Adamo, Neiha Bhandari, Meagan DeJong, Sarah Ghoshal, Tavya Jackson,
Michele McCormick, Shil Sen, and Kim Silva-Martinez.
 3

Welcome Letter from the Director of First-Year Writing

Dear MSU Student,

I am excited to welcome you to Montclair State University and to WRIT 105: College Writing I. In
this collection, you will find information that will help you to succeed in this course and beyond.
We have assembled essays that previous WRIT 105 students have submitted so that you can see
how they approached the same assignments that you will encounter in the course. These essays
showcase students’ creativity and skill in exploring ideas through writing. I hope that you find
them helpful as you continue to develop your own voice as a writer.

While the WRIT 105-106 course of study satisfies general education requirements, the
Department of Writing Studies also offers a B.A. in Public and Professional Writing (PPW) and a
minor in the same area. In the pages that follow, you will find more information about these
programs. If either the PPW major or minor appeal to you, please contact Writing Studies
Department Chair Jessica Restaino at restainoj@[Link]. You can also find information at
our Public and Professional Writing website:
[Link]

Feel free to contact me with questions that you may have related to WRIT 105. My office
number is Schmitt 306 and my email is dadasc@[Link]. On behalf of all WRIT 105
faculty, I wish you much success at Montclair State.

Sincerely,

Caroline Dadas
Director of First-Year Writing
 4

What to Expect in WRIT 105

For your WRIT 105 course this semester, you probably will be writing more than you have
previously in a class. This is a good thing. Writers improve with increased practice and
opportunities to write. In this course, you will be given many opportunities to write: online
discussion boards, peer reviews, journals, and essay drafts are some written documents that
you can expect to produce during the course of the semester.

WRIT 105 takes a process approach to writing, which stems from the belief that effective writing
happens over time, through multiple drafts. For this reason, you will be writing at least three
drafts of every major essay project, and you will receive feedback from your peers and
instructors on these drafts. You should see these drafts as opportunities to experiment and try
out new ideas. Refine your approach as you re-write. By devoting time to your writing, you will
be able to grow in new directions as you incorporate the techniques that you will discuss in
class into your written projects.

In this class you will also experiment with expressing your ideas in formats other than the
written essay. Because people communicate using images, sounds, gestures, and other forms of
expression, you will be introduced to multimodality: the practice of communicating through
multiple methods at the same time (for example, using both images and words, as in a meme).
Through practicing multimodal composition, you will learn how to tailor your message based on
audience, purpose, and context.

Through these experiences, you will have the opportunity to grow as a reflective and strategic
writer. Your instructors look forward to taking the journey with you.
 5

Major in Public and Professional Writing

 6

Minor in Public and Professional Writing in

 7

Section I: The Literacy Narrative

 8

Introduction, Literacy Narrative

For this sequence, you will be writing a document called a literacy narrative. This essay is the
first one assigned to you in WRIT 105 because most of us have written a narrative at some point
in our schooling. In that sense, it may feel familiar. However, this assignment will require you to
focus on your literacy practices, which may not be something that you have thought about
previously. Your instructor will give you guidance as to what we mean by “literacy” and how you
might effectively incorporate reflection into the essay (as well as tell a good story).

If you want to see how others have approached reflecting on their literacy practices, you should
check out the Digital Archive of Literacy Narratives ([Link]). This resource contains
thousands of literacy narratives--in written, video, and audio form--from people across the
country. You will find examples from both students and teachers. Take a look to see the different
ways that people have approached this assignment. Once you complete your own literacy
narrative for this class, you might choose to upload it to the DALN.
 9

Early Draft, Rose Schnackenberg’s “Literacy Narrative”

Sewing has a reputation of being one of the most boring topics you can imagine. The picture
that comes to mind is no doubt a variation of an elderly woman, hair white as snow, with tiny
glasses perched on her nose, wearing an unsightly floral dress. Of course, she’s sitting in a
rocking chair, needle and thread in hand, repeating the same motions over and over and
awaiting death. Like I said – boring. I can admit that, until the age of fourteen, if someone had
tried to talk to me about sewing, my eyes would’ve glazed over and that cute little woman
would have appeared in my mind. That’s why, in eighth grade when I was preparing my
schedule for my upcoming first year of high school, I let out a laugh when my guidance
counselor suggested Textiles as an elective. It just sounded miserable. I could picture myself
poking my thumb with a needle so many times it would draw blood, and a teacher who looked
suspiciously like that elderly woman I mentioned earlier droning on and on about a topic I
couldn’t care less about. So why did I end up signing up for the class? I genuinely have no idea. I
can’t remember when or why or how the decision got made, but on a sunny September day I
found myself walking into a classroom filled with sewing machines, colorful fabric, loose thread
everywhere, and a giant lime green table.

Sat at that hideously colored table was the teacher. She was not nearly as old as the image I had
concocted in my head, but was wearing glasses and a floral printed dress so I’ll score one in the
win column for me. The first day of class was so boring and I felt sure I had made a mistake by
choosing this class. I vaguely knew a few people in the class so I sat with them and we all agreed
that we had a momentary lapse in judgement when registering for classes. The second day was
just as boring; we were allowed to use the sewing machines but with no thread in them. We
practiced straight lines on pieces of paper and fiddled with the settings on the machine, trying
to understand the complex gadget. A riveting way to spend fifty minutes, I know.

The first semester I really did not try in that class at all. I would spend the period doing
homework for my next class, talking to my classmates who were slowly becoming my friends,
and procrastinating actually touching a needle and thread. When I got my report card and saw
the letter C next to an elective, I almost gasped dramatically. I had never gotten a C in my entire
life. On tests, sure, but as a final grade? No way. My parents are the kind of people who used to
tell me that B stands for Bad. When they found out I had received a C in a class that I should
have been easily acing, they were understandably mad. I got grounded – which was a first for
me too – and decided at that moment that I would do better. I would pay attention in class, I
would actually go to the fabric store, I would do my biology homework the night before.

Because I had been slacking off for so long, I essentially had to learn everything all over again. It
was January and I was trying to understand what I was taught four months ago. My teacher was
excited that I was making an effort, so she answered all of my moronic questions with minimal
attitude. I did retain how to use the machine, so I was off to a good start. Threading a sewing
machine sounds easy, and if you’re an experienced sewer it can be done gracefully and in the
blink of an eye. However, it’s arguably one of the most important parts of the sewing process,
so it has to be done correctly. If not, if the thread is out of place even slightly, it will all jumble
 10

together in a ball of knots tied to your fabric and your new best friends will be a seam ripper
and a pair of scissors. I learned how to thread the machine, then how to wind a bobbin and
insert it correctly. These are things I should have known since the second week of classes, and I
felt pretty bad about myself. I had always prided myself on my academic achievement and have
never blown off responsibilities the way I had that semester. I remember thinking that I couldn’t
change the past so I put all of my energy into doing better for the rest of the year.

With the help of my teacher – my friends in the class essentially knew about as much as I did – I
learned to read a pattern. A pattern is a template of the shapes that you’ll need to make
whatever it is you want to sew. It’s made out of a sort of wax paper material, and is littered with
random shapes and codes that have meaning and tell you what cuts to make and where, what
lines to follow for which size, etc.

After I mastered pattern reading, and I use the term “mastered” loosely, I moved on to fabric. It
can be confusing to purchase fabric for certain projects if you’re not familiar with the various
types, and if it’s not obvious enough, I was not. I would accidentally buy woven fabric for a
project that needed stretchy material, and have to go back to the store to look for a knit that I
liked. Then I would cut out the pieces but accidentally align them against the grain, and have to
start all over again. It was a frustrating process, figuring out fabrics, and even to this day I get
confused. I learned how to hand sew, a meticulous and potentially painful skill. When I first
started I would leave the classroom with bruised and bloody fingers.

Despite these mishaps, I persisted. The first project I decided to do that semester was a quilted
bag with pockets, similar to a Vera Bradley bag. I’m not sure why I didn’t start off with an easier
piece, maybe a pair of pajama shorts, but I went for it anyway. It was very difficult. I remember
getting so frustrated. So many times, I would sew a piece, decide it was bad, seam rip it all
apart, and start the process over again. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to prove to myself, to
my teacher, to my parents that I could sew and I could be great at it. Looking back, I find it
nonsensical to have assumed I could do something like that perfectly on my first attempt, but I
can be stubborn.

You have to be stubborn to sew, honestly, because it is such a precise skill. Even someone like
my teacher, who had been sewing since she was a little girl, would have to redo parts of her
projects occasionally. Sewing machines are temperamental, and most of the time mistakes are a
result of the machine being on the fritz.

I was finally satisfied with my Vera Bradley inspired bag, complete with a zipper and side
pockets, and turned it in for grading. I remember so vividly this day, handing the bag to her and
anxiously awaiting her response. She looked it over carefully, and painstakingly slow, checking
seams, unzippering and looking inside of it, testing the pockets and straps. When she was done
she just stared at it for a few seconds and my whole body filled with panic. She hated it, I was
sure of it. My hands were clasped in front of me and my lips were pursed, ready for her
rejection and probably a failing grade. All of this I thought in the course of approximately five
seconds until she looked at me. I asked her if there was something wrong, and I will never forget
 11

her words. She looked at me, took off her glasses, and said “This is what you could have been
doing all this time? You’re a natural, I had no idea you could do this.” I was flooded instantly
with relief but also some shame because she was right, I could have been putting the effort in
all along, and I had chosen not to. But at least I was trying now.

She gave me an A and told me to start on my next project, which I did, the very next day. It was
a baby dress and matching hat for my cousin’s daughter and it turned out adorable and almost
perfect. I gave one hundred percent of myself in that class for the rest of the semester, and at
the end of the year my teacher asked if she could include some of my pieces in the annual art
fair. I happily agreed.

I went on to take Advanced Textiles and still keep in touch with my teacher. My parents bought
me a sewing machine this past Christmas, and I’m still learning every day. Literacy in any subject
is constant. There will always be more information to know, more mistakes to make and
experiences to have, and I’m looking forward to learning a little bit more every time I turn on
my sewing machine or pick up a needle and thread.
 12

Middle Draft, Rose Schnackenberg’s “Literacy Narrative”

Sewing has a reputation of being one of the most boring hobbies imaginable. The picture that
comes to mind is no doubt a variation of an elderly woman, hair white as snow, with tiny glasses
perched on her nose, wearing an unsightly floral dress. Of course, she’s sitting in a rocking chair,
needle and thread in hand, repeating the same motions over and over and awaiting death. Like I
said – boring. I can admit that, until the age of fourteen, if someone had tried to talk to me
about sewing, my eyes would have glazed over and that cute little woman would have appeared
in my mind. That’s why in eighth grade, when I was preparing my schedule for my upcoming
first year of high school, I let out a laugh when my guidance counselor suggested Textiles as an
elective. It just sounded miserable. I could picture myself poking my thumb with a needle
repeatedly and having a teacher who looked suspiciously like that elderly woman I mentioned
earlier, droning on about a topic I couldn’t care less about. So why did I end up signing up for
the class? I genuinely have no idea. I can’t remember when or why or how the decision got
made, but on a sunny September day I found myself walking into a classroom filled with sewing
machines, colorful fabric, loose thread everywhere, and a giant lime green table.

The teacher was sitting at the hideously colored table. She was not nearly as old as the image I
had concocted in my head, but was wearing glasses and a floral printed dress so I’ll score one in
the win column for me. The first day of class was so boring and I felt sure I had made a mistake
by choosing this class. I vaguely knew a few people in the class so I sat with them and we all
agreed that we had a momentary lapse in judgement when registering for classes. The second
day was just as boring; we were allowed to use the sewing machines but with no thread in
them. We practiced straight lines on pieces of paper and fiddled with the settings on the
machine, trying to understand the complex gadget. A riveting way to spend fifty minutes, I
know.

The first semester I really did not try in that class at all. I would spend the period doing
homework for my next class, talking to my classmates who were slowly becoming my friends,
and procrastinating actually touching a needle and thread. Despite my lack of effort, when I got
my report card and saw the letter C next to an elective, it came as a shock. I had never gotten a
C in my entire life. On tests, sure, but as a final grade? No way. My parents are the kind of
people who used to tell me that B stands for “Bad”. When they found out I had received a C in a
class that I should have been easily acing, they were understandably mad. I got grounded –
which was a first for me, too – and decided at that moment that I would do better. I would pay
attention in class, actually go to the fabric store, and do my biology homework the night before.

Because I had been slacking off for so long, I essentially had to learn everything all over again. It
was January and I was trying to understand what I was taught four months ago. My teacher was
excited that I was making an effort, so she answered all of my moronic questions with minimal
attitude. I did retain how to use the machine, so I was off to a good start. Threading a sewing
machine sounds easy, and an experienced sewer can do it gracefully and in the blink of an eye.
However, it’s arguably one of the most important parts of the sewing process, so it has to be
done correctly. If not, if the thread is out of place even slightly, it will all jumble together in a
 13

ball of knots tied to the fabric and your new best friends will be a seam ripper and a pair of
scissors. I learned how to thread the machine, then how to wind a bobbin and insert it correctly.
These are things I should have known since the second week of classes, and I felt pretty bad
about myself. I had always prided myself on my academic achievement and have never blown
off responsibilities the way I had that semester. I remember thinking that I couldn’t change the
past so I put all of my energy into doing better for the rest of the year.

With the help of my teacher – my friends in the class essentially knew about as much as I did – I
learned to read a pattern. A pattern is a template of the shapes that needed to make whatever
it is that is going to be sewn. It’s made out of a sort of wax paper material, and is littered with
random shapes and codes that have meaning and explain what cuts to make and where, what
lines to follow for which size, etc.

After I mastered pattern reading, and I use the term “mastered” loosely, I moved on to fabric. It
can be confusing to purchase fabric for certain projects if you’re not familiar with the various
types, and if it’s not obvious enough, I was not. I would accidentally buy woven fabric for a
project that needed stretchy material, and have to go back to the store to look for a knit that I
liked. Then I would cut out the pieces but accidentally align them against the grain, and have to
start all over again. It was a frustrating process, figuring out fabrics, and even to this day I get
confused. I learned how to hand sew, a meticulous and potentially painful skill. When I first
started I would leave the classroom with bruised and bloody fingers.

Despite these mishaps, I persisted. The first project I decided to do that semester was a quilted
bag with pockets, similar to a Vera Bradley bag. I’m not sure why I didn’t start off with an easier
piece, maybe a pair of pajama shorts, but I went for it anyway. It was very difficult. I remember
getting so frustrated. So many times, I would sew a piece, decide it was bad, seam rip it all
apart, and start the process over again. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to prove to myself, to
my teacher, to my parents that I could sew and I could be great at it. Looking back, I find it
nonsensical to have assumed I could do something like that perfectly on my first attempt, but I
can be stubborn.

You have to be stubborn to sew, honestly, because it is such a precise skill. Even someone like
my teacher, who had been sewing since she was a little girl, would have to redo parts of her
projects occasionally. Sewing machines are temperamental, and most of the time mistakes are a
result of the machine being on the fritz.

I was finally satisfied with my Vera Bradley inspired bag, complete with a zipper and side
pockets, and turned it in for grading. I remember so vividly this day, handing the bag to her and
anxiously awaiting her response. She looked it over carefully, and painstakingly slow, checking
seams, unzippering and looking inside of it, testing the pockets and straps. When she was done
she just stared at it for a few seconds and my whole body filled with panic. She hated it, I was
sure of it. My hands were clasped in front of me and my lips were pursed, ready for her
rejection and probably a failing grade. All of this I thought in the course of approximately five
seconds until she looked at me. I asked her if there was something wrong, and I will never forget
 14

her words. She looked at me, took off her glasses, and said “This is what you could have been
doing all this time? You’re a natural, I had no idea you could do this.” I was flooded instantly
with relief but also some shame because she was right, I could have been putting the effort in
all along, and I had chosen not to. But at least I was trying now.

She gave me an A and told me to start on my next project, which I did, the very next day. It was
a baby dress and matching hat for my cousin’s daughter and it turned out adorable and almost
perfect. I gave one hundred percent of myself in that class for the rest of the semester, and at
the end of the year my teacher asked if she could include some of my pieces in the annual art
fair. I happily agreed.

I went on to take Advanced Textiles and still keep in touch with my teacher. My parents bought
me a sewing machine this past Christmas, and I’m still learning every day. Literacy in any subject
is constant. There will always be more information to know, more mistakes to make and
experiences to have, and I’m looking forward to learning a little bit more every time I turn on
my sewing machine or pick up a needle and thread.
 15

Final Draft, Rose Schnackenberg’s “Literacy Narrative”

Sewing has a reputation of being one of the most boring hobbies imaginable. The picture that
comes to mind is no doubt a variation of an elderly woman, hair white as snow, with tiny glasses
perched on her nose, wearing an unsightly floral dress. Of course, she’s sitting in a rocking chair,
needle and thread in hand, repeating the same motions over and over and awaiting death. Like I
said – boring. I can admit that, until the age of fourteen, if someone had tried to talk to me
about sewing, my eyes would have glazed over and that cute little woman would have appeared
in my mind. That’s why in eighth grade, when I was preparing my schedule for my upcoming
first year of high school, I let out a laugh when my guidance counselor suggested that I take
Textiles as an elective. It just sounded miserable. I could picture myself poking my thumb with a
needle repeatedly and having a teacher who looked suspiciously like that elderly woman I
mentioned earlier, droning on about a topic I couldn’t care less about. So why did I end up
signing up for the class? I genuinely have no idea. I can’t remember when or why or how the
decision got made, but on a sunny September day I found myself walking into a classroom filled
with sewing machines, colorful fabric, loose thread everywhere, and a giant lime green table.

The teacher was sitting at the hideously colored table. She was not nearly as old as the image I
had concocted in my head, but was wearing glasses and a floral printed dress so I’ll score one in
the win column for me. The first day was so boring and I felt sure I had made a mistake by
choosing this class. I vaguely knew a few people in my period so I sat with them and we all
agreed that we had a momentary lapse in judgment when registering for classes. The second
day was just as boring; we were allowed to use the sewing machines but with no thread in
them. We practiced straight lines on pieces of paper and fiddled with the settings on the
machine, trying to understand the complex gadget. A riveting way to spend fifty minutes, I
know.

The first semester I really did not try in that class at all. I would spend the period doing
homework for my next class, talking to my classmates who were slowly becoming my friends,
and procrastinating actually touching a needle and thread. Despite my lack of effort, when I got
my report card and saw the letter C next to an elective, it came as a shock. I had never gotten a
C in my entire life. On tests, sure, but as a final grade? No way. My parents are the kind of
people who used to tell me that B stands for “Bad.” When they found out I had received a C in a
class that I should have been easily acing, they were understandably mad. I got grounded –
which was a first for me, too – and decided at that moment that I would do better. I would pay
attention in class, actually go to the fabric store, and do my biology homework the night before.

Because I had been slacking off for so long, I essentially had to learn everything all over again. It
was January and I was trying to understand what I was taught four months ago. My teacher was
excited that I was making an effort, so she answered all of my moronic questions with minimal
attitude. I did retain how to use the machine, so I was off to a good start. Threading a sewing
machine sounds easy, and an experienced sewer can do it gracefully in the blink of an eye.
However, it’s arguably one of the most important steps of the sewing process, so it has to be
done correctly. If the thread is out of place even slightly, it will all jumble together in a ball of
 16

knots tied to the fabric and your new best friends will be a seam ripper and a pair of scissors. I
learned how to thread the machine, then how to wind a bobbin and insert it correctly. These
are things I should have known since the second week of class, and I felt pretty bad about
myself. I had always prided myself on my academic achievement and have never blown off
responsibilities the way I had that semester. I remember thinking that I couldn’t change the
past, so I put all of my energy into doing better for the rest of the year.

With the help of my teacher – my friends in the class essentially knew about as much as I did – I
learned to read a pattern. A pattern is a template of the shapes needed to make whatever it is
that is going to be sewn. It’s made out of a sort of wax paper material and is littered with
random shapes and codes that have meaning and explain what cuts to make and where, what
lines to follow for which size, etc.

After I mastered pattern reading, and I use the term “mastered” loosely, I moved on to fabric. It
can be confusing to purchase fabric for certain projects if you’re not familiar with the various
types, and if it’s not obvious enough, I was not. I would accidentally buy woven fabric for a
project that needed stretchy material, and have to go back to the store to look for a knit that I
liked. Then I would cut out the pieces, but accidentally align them against the grain and have to
start all over again. It was a frustrating process, figuring out fabrics, and even to this day I get
confused. I learned how to hand sew, a meticulous and potentially painful skill. When I first
started I would leave the classroom with bruised and bloody fingers.

Despite these mishaps, I persisted. The first project I decided to do that semester was a quilted
bag with pockets, similar to a Vera Bradley bag. I’m not sure why I didn’t start off with an easier
piece, maybe a pair of pajama shorts, but I went for it anyway. It was very difficult and I
remember getting so frustrated throughout the process. So many times, I would sew a piece,
decide it was bad, seam rip it all apart, and start over again. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted
to prove to myself, to my teacher, and to my parents that I could sew and I could be great at it.
Looking back, I find it nonsensical to have assumed I could do something like that perfectly on
my first attempt, but I can be stubborn.

You have to be stubborn to sew, honestly, because it is such a precise skill. Even someone like
my teacher, who had been sewing since she was a little girl, would have to redo parts of her
projects occasionally. Sewing machines are temperamental, and most of the time mistakes are a
result of the machine being on the fritz.

When I was finally satisfied with my Vera Bradley inspired bag, complete with a zipper and side
pockets, I turned it in for grading. I remember so vividly this day, handing the bag to my teacher
and anxiously awaiting her response. She looked it over carefully, and painstakingly slow,
checking seams, unzippering and looking inside of it, testing the pockets and straps. When she
was done she just stared at it for a few seconds and my whole body filled with panic. She hated
it, I was sure of it. My hands were clasped in front of me and my lips were pursed, ready for her
rejection and probably a failing grade. All of this I thought in the course of approximately five
seconds until she looked at me. I asked her if there was something wrong, and I will never forget
 17

her words. She looked at me, took off her glasses, and said “This is what you could have been
doing all this time? You’re a natural, I had no idea you could do this.” I was flooded instantly
with relief but also some shame because she was right. I could have been putting the effort in
all along, and I had chosen not to. But at least I was trying now.

She gave me an A and told me to start on my next project, which I did the very next day. It was a
baby dress and matching hat for my cousin’s daughter and it turned out adorable and almost
perfect. I gave one hundred percent of myself in that class for the rest of the semester, and at
the end of the year my teacher asked if she could include some of my pieces in the annual art
fair. I happily agreed.

I went on to take Advanced Textiles and still keep in touch with my teacher. My parents bought
me a sewing machine this past Christmas, and I’m still learning every day. Literacy in any subject
is constant. There will always be more information to know, more mistakes to make and more
experiences to have. I’m looking forward to learning a little bit more every time I turn on my
sewing machine or pick up a needle and thread.
 18

Section II: The Documented Narrative

 19

Introduction, Documented Narrative

This essay prompt combines elements of the literacy narrative and the argument essay. The
purpose of this essay is to place personal experience within a social, economic, cultural,
historical, or political context through secondary research. For example, if you wrote about
your literacy of a particular sport for your narrative assignment, you might research notable
moments in that sport or how that sport intersects with political forces (for example, how
football and the larger culture has been influenced by Colin Kapernick’s decision to take a knee
during the national anthem). This research should, ideally, lead to new insight about your
experiences. Our opinions, feelings, and even thoughts are influenced by the cultures around
us; this essay provides you with an opportunity to explore how the self interacts with the world.

Through this prompt, you will build on a previous essay (your literacy narrative) and practice
sound research methods as you create additional written material.
 20

Final Draft, Amya Prescott’s “More Than Braids and Hair Beads”
A confident child with a large, shiny grin on her face and smooth brown skin enters the school
playground. The child is surrounded by several young children their age, occupied with jump
rope, double dutch, monkey bars, swings, and any other attractions you can imagine at a
school's playground. She is filled with excitement to frolic with the other kids. Her legs are
frantically running to join them in four squares. Her heartbeat is racing so fast she can hear it in
her ears. “I am going to make new friends,” the child exclaims to herself. She stands in line,
ready to join the game.
​
The children already playing the game make an abrupt stop. They stare with harsh eyes at what
they consider to be a strange-looking girl. They do not say anything, but their silence speaks for
itself. A few moments later, "Why does your hair have beads on it?" one girl with blonde,
straight hair asks.
​
Suddenly the little girl who was so excited to meet new friends notices that everyone on the
playground looks alike. They all have fair or pale skin, blue or green eyes, and curly or straight
hair. Nobody is brown with brown eyes and braided hair like her. The little girl puts her head
down in shame after this acknowledgement. Her back feels like it is on fire, and her palms are
sweaty. She does not respond to the question that was asked. She feels her face getting warmer
and red, and sweat starts slowly trickling down the sides of her back. The little girl runs off the
playground and back inside the school.

The question about the little girl’s hair was not just an ordinary question. It translated to “How
come your hair has a different texture than mine, resulting in you having to wear beads and
braids?” in her mind. Braids are protective styles for African Americans and their thick hair.
Those hairstyles help their curly afros become more manageable. Therefore, the blonde girl
appeared to be offending an entire feature specific to the black race by asking this. Intentional
or not, she was singling someone out for their differences, which they can not change. The
blonde girl’s lack of knowledge and ignorance at such a young age demonstrates an even larger
issue once ignorance follows an individual like herself into adulthood. ​

More extreme cases of hair discrimination exist with children such as Asia Simo of Shreeve High
School in Louisiana. She was kicked off of her school’s cheer team after her hair was too thick to
put into the “half up half down” hairstyle that her cheer team required her to wear. Another
child named Deandre Arnold of Texas was told he was not permitted to attend his graduation
ceremony unless he cut his dreadlocks. CNN shares that stories like these are a common
occurrence in schools of all districts across the United States, and it is purely a result of school
policies not taking into account “an increasingly diverse student body, to the detriment of
mostly black and biracial schoolchildren'” (Asmelash). Once schools start looking at their
policies from a racial standpoint for a diverse group of students, some of these issues can be
resolved. Cheer coaches need to realize that not all cheerleaders have the same hair texture
and therefore they should not be required to wear a specific style. Likewise, ceremonies as ​
​
 21

important as graduation should not be ruined for a student due to hair restrictions the school
has implemented. ​

After running off the playground, the little girl sat on the bench in the school's hallways and
waited for what seemed to be a myriad of time. In reality, recess and playtime were only fifteen
minutes. She noticed the teacher also looked like her other classmates. This feeling of not
belonging also plays a huge factor in the confidence of African Americans and how they live
their lives. In a podcast in Connecticut overseen by political reporters and news contributors
Yamiche Alcinador, Bria Lloyd, and Candice Norwood, they expressed how their clients at work
would say, “I’m in a predominantly non-Black environment, so I can’t go looking like my hair is
not being taken care of, because there seems to be that assumption or bias that, if you have
your natural hair, you’re not taking care of it.” It can only be imagined how out of place African
Americans feel when they are wearing their natural hair around everyone else who does not
understand why their hair is that texture. This feeling of alienation can only feel worse once
these African Americans use methods like braids or dreadlocks to suppress their afros, and yet
they are still being judged by people outside their race. This little girl felt like she was not
welcome on that school’s playground and after that not even the school’s classrooms, tables, or
seats. As she waited for the school day to end, her writing lesson became a haze, and it grew
difficult for her to concentrate on what was normally her favorite subject. The afternoon class
dragged on for what seemed to be hours and the little girl was eager to leave. She was fidgeting
in her seat and itching to get back home to her family where she never felt out of place. She
wanted to go talk to her mom, grandma, and sister who also looked like her. The question, “Why
do we look so different?” remained on the top of the little girl's head like a tough stain on a
white shirt with no bleach. ​

Countless African Americans had to get used to being questioned about their hair throughout
their life too. JSTOR Daily shares that the “Anti-black hair sentiment on U.S. soil has existed for
centuries. In the 1700s enslaved women who worked in the fields usually covered their hair in
head rags due to the harsh demands of their work” (Griffin). Thus proving, in a working
environment, these women were unable to wear their natural hair. This was nearly 321 years
ago, but this issue still exists today. White people have set the accepted standard for what a
worker should look like, including features like their hair. The American Bar Association even
found that 80 percent of African Americans feel that they have to switch their hairstyles to align
with conservative standards in their workplace (Arefin). Being that this has existed since slavery
days and has continued throughout the years up until the 2000s, there is no doubt that nearly
all African Americans are going to have to face this issue or have already enouctered it at some
point in their lifetime.

This conversation with the little girl’s mother was the starting point for her embarrassment to
change into empowerment, but it took many more of these questions and experiences to shape
her full understanding. As time grew on, she realized that some people may single her out
because she was different, but that was alright. She was different and that was perfectly fine.
 22

Others were only curious because they were used to all looking the same. This was not
something easy for the little girl to do, as it is not easy for most who go through this. However,
she still decided to do it for her own good. Her hair was her identity and she could not change
it. She preferred to embarrass rather than be ashamed of it like she used to be.

I was that first grade little girl. The playground incident was the very first predicament where I
experienced being singled out as an African American girl living in a predominantly white town.
My innocent view of the world left me that day because I learned that even though everyone
should be treated equally, that is not always the case. Several of these playground incidents
have occurred throughout my life and still continue to occur even outside of the playground.
Bridgewater is not the only place that this happened or happens. Nonetheless, I have grown
from the embarrassed first-grader who stood out from everyone else in her school’s playground.
Learning about other successful black women like Maya Angelou, Beyonce, and Halle Berry has
taught me that black is beautiful. Moreover, studying about activists such as Harriet Tubman
and Rosa Parks has influenced me to stand up for myself and my race. I am a confident black
woman. I am educated, in college, and happy with the cornrows in my hair, hoop earrings, and
fashion sense. There are always people that try to knock my confidence, but only I am in control
of my mind. After all, there is no need to take criticism from the same person that I would not
take advice from. A stranger can look at me and make their assumptions, but if they do not talk
to me and get insight into my true personality, it does not matter. I graduated high school with
college credits from my AP classes, got accepted into almost all the schools I applied to, and
have had a job for three years, going on four. All of these things were a result of my hard work,
dedication, and responsibility. Not my hair. Furthermore, I currently have fourteen thousand
followers on Instagram who accept me for how I look. These accomplishments are a result of my
self-confidence and self-respect that I have grown to obtain. My race and identity are
phenomenal and so are yours.

​
​
Works Cited
Alcinador, Y., Wellford, R., Lloyd, B., & Norwood, C. “How hair discrimination impacts Black
Americans in their personal lives and the workplace.” PBSO NewsHour, 02 April 2021.
[Link]
-i n-their-personal-lives-and-the-workplace. Accessed 20 July 2021.
Arefin, S. “Is Hair Discrimination Race Discrimination?” American Bar organization, 17 April
2020.
[Link]
imi nation/. Accessed 30 July 2021.
Asmelash, Leah. “Black students say they are being penalized for their hair, and experts say
every student is worse off because of it.” CNN, 08 March 2020.
[Link]
. Accessed 20 July 2021.
 23

Griffin, Chante. “How Natural Black Hair at Work Became a Civil Rights Issue.” JSTOR Daily, 03
July 2019.
[Link]
Accessed 20 July 2021.
 24

Early Draft, Rachel Rubio’s “Code of Passion”

I had about 10 minutes left. I was taking a computer science exam and time was ticking short. I
could hear the pencils tap repetitively on the desk as my classmates wrote their answers for the
open word problems. I look down at my paper, stressed and unsure of my answers on my paper,
debating whether the algorithm I’ve written was functional and free of syntax errors. Wrapping
together all my scattered thoughts on paper like I was grasping at the scattered fragments of my
life, the time has ended and the bell for the next period has rung. Handing in my test, I felt the
guilt and negative thoughts weighing down on me. What if it wasn’t a good grade? What if I am
just not made for coding? What if I wasn’t just made for...anything?

Before heading to a safe haven to cry I was held back by my professor Mr. Soin, introducing an
opportunity under his organization, CODEIE. I was too imbalanced and overwhelmed to make
any rational decision, as the guilt and disappointment spiraled around my mind while he went
into further detail on the event. I heard him talk but never caught what he said. My initiative
was to be excused from the classroom as my emotions slowly built up and like a ticking bomb,
exploding at any second. It was until then when my ears were able to catch a few words,
‘Children’ and ‘tutoring’.

Was he asking me to teach kids computer science in one of his organization’s events? I couldn’t
understand why, maybe it was out of pity? The thought of it made me more upset. For a student
like myself, who is on the edge of failing her course on programming, what could possibly have
hypnotized my teacher to ask me to attend his event? Why would he ask me out of all the other
students? Why would I participate in it if coding was nothing more than a lost dream from ages
ago?

It was by then when I knew the root behind my dying-passion. The answer was Ally, a girl from a
Korean show. She was the female idol of a programmer since I was 7, despite that she never
existed. I remember watching her scenes as she was able to code and break through high
security systems within seconds in order to save her friends. Her coding skills was what made
me so fond of her, and was the role model that led me to pursue something technology/based.
Whatever it was, it gave me white hope that I too, could be like her if I try harder and take the
chance. Mustering up the courage to hold back my hoarse voice, I let out a strong yes. I was
given the information on what to study and prepared myself in the following weeks.
The kids I was assigned were around the ages of 7-12, I prepared and studied the course
material and within a few weeks, the event started and I arrived at the location. Dropped off by
my parents, I was in front of my old Middle School building, and eventually walked into the
building.

The school wasn’t much in comparison to the high school I attended. The walls were narrow,
and within each step, the nostalgic feeling grew stronger. To be so young, I reminisce about the
coding club I have attended throughout middle school, the thought of having that strong drive
for coding as it slowly dispersed away within the next few years. As I reached the cafeteria of
the school, I was met up with big posters.
 25

“CODEIE - Computer Science for Kids”.

There were big carts with dozens of chrome books, pizza boxes on the left side of the building.
On the cafeteria tables was where everything was set up, there were bags and manuals, and
stickers for the kids. The cafeteria tables were grouped into three sections: Robotics, and two
programming languages. As I approached Mr. Soin, he greeted me with a warm welcome and
lended me an orange shirt with the organization's name. It was a symbolic meaning of
mentorship, to put on the enthusiastic mindset despite the discouragement I'd receive from
myself.

I was assigned to the front table in front of the cafeteria entrance. After I had finished aligning
all of the material on the table so that the kids can individually get started with the activity, I
watched as each child was dropped off by their parent, and was separated after a hug and a
kiss. Mr. Soin was standing next to the cart and began handing them the laptops along with a
name tag sticker so that it’ll make things easier for the mentors to get started and be familiar
with their students. During the first 30 minutes since the event started, I repetitively watched
the kids get started, and walk to the assigned tables. Each child was around the ages of 6, and
were all excited to begin the bootcamp event. The glimpse of their faces like they are awaiting
an exciting adventure, as if joy was bestowed upon them, as if they were so grateful to be in this
cafeteria at this very moment.

It was around an hour ago when I saw a boy walk up to my table. He was more petite than the
average 6 year old, but he had a very outgoing personality and he asked me deliberately about
when we would begin, and what we were going to do. I eventually helped him with setting up
the stuff and got to learn more about my student until more arrived over time, one by one. I
was eventually filled up with 6 inspiring souls of wonder, and within time, the event officially
began.

Mr. Soin began introducing the directions, and signaled all of us mentors to begin with our
tasks. I begin with setting an introduction of myself, what I do and let them be aware that I am
here to help them with their tasks whenever they get stuck. They all introduced themselves in
return, with enthusiasm and excitement as they all logged into the website Scratch, which was
one of the programming languages I was assigned to teach.

The program consisted of blocks with many colors, representing the block coming from a certain
category, all varying from all colors of the rainbow. The blocks represented a certain action from
making a certain noise to changing the color of many objects (varying from many animals to
people). We began with the basics, like moving a certain object around in many directions,
repeating certain actions through iteration, and playing with the background setting. As I
watched each student think hard and put all the pieces together, from block to block on the
program, they were filled with joy as they were able to do the things I assigned them to do. As
for others who struggled, I encouraged them not to be devastated by it and that computer
science is the concept of trial and error. I assisted them until they eventually got it.
 26

As many students passed and were able to quickly understand the basics as we proceeded to
the next tasks, it was a shy girl who sat at the end of the table I was able to resonate with. She
didn’t do anything outstanding, and she often made many errors and needed the most
assistance, but it was her dedication to be able to ask for help again and again, despite how
discouraging it was to her when I looked at her eyes. It resembled myself in some way, as I was
unable to excel in my computer science classes like everyone else but the difference starts when
she still continues to try while I slowly gave up. It was ironic, how I was older than her, and had
far more experience than my student yet her commitment was something I’ve never shown or
done in my case. Everytime I helped her, she was filled with inspiration and content, and would
be fixated on the code shown for several minutes, grasping every knowledge and an explanation
I’ve taught her on a specific problem. She has shown me that despite her being behind very
often on the lessons, she still attempts to go for what she is interested in anyways, and it was
then when i thought to myself that maybe I could possibly put in more effort in coding if it
doesn’t always go my way, and when I ever am in the same position as she is in my high school
class.

Throughout the event, the bond between my students and I grew, as they were more
comfortable and open on what they needed help with. We worked as a team to make the tallest
tower with noodles, ate lunch together, and visited the robotics section, and witnessed how
their drones work and the tricks they can do from the robotics team. We did many entertaining
tasks together as a team, and helped each other out with debugging. It was by then when I
eventually discovered my passion for computer science slowly rekindled as I was able to witness
their reactions and smiles when they were able to overcome the challenges and debug their
program. It gave me a sense of hope seeing their meaningful smile, and how I was able to make
them have a great time computing. After many hours, we eventually reached the last
assessment where we had let the kids make a story with everything that they have learnt, and it
can be of any genre. As they began working on their work, Iwitnessed the process and how each
block was built and added one by one, how characters were changed by color, and how things
were repetitively tested over and over again. It was about an hour later when all of my students
were completed, and by then they all excitedly wanted me to see their work and the small
stories that they have made. As I’ve watched cats take a trip to the moon, students become
friends at a school setting, and a cat going trick or treating with a dog, I’ve completed

*inspiration, ally
 27

Middle Draft, Rachel Rubio’s “Code of Passion”

I had about 10 minutes left. I was taking my principles exam as time was ticking short. I could
hear the pencils tap repetitively on the desk as my male classmates wrote their answers for the
short-response problems. Looking down on my paper, the prompt was asking me to make a
program including 5 methods to calculate 3 different math functions: the Pythagorean
Theorem, find the average and median with a set of numbers, and calculating the area of a
circle and rectangle. I stared intensely at my exam, stressed and unsure of my answers on my
paper, debating whether the algorithm written was functional and free of syntax errors. There
have always been moments like this when I acknowledged to myself that I was not just the only
individual who struggled with computer science, but I was also one of the very few female
students in the class. Women have always been less than the population of men in my IT classes
for many years. In fact, women have always been underrepresented in IT fields. It’s been stated
that, “women’s representation has decreased from 32% in 1990 to 25% today” (Funk). To be
aware of such statistics takes a huge toll on women like myself. It affects our self-esteem and
certainty of taking on higher positions in our career life without the face of discrimination and
sexual harassment.

I felt that I was incapable of doing well because I wasn't a man. I have always felt self-conscious
and feared that the answers I’ve written in my exam would be incorrect because it was not
written by a man. Wrapping together all my scattered thoughts on paper like I was grasping the
scattered fragments of my life, the time has ended and the bell for the next period has rung.
Handing in my test, I felt the guilt and negative thoughts weighing down on me. What if it
wasn’t a good grade? What if I am just not made for coding? What if I wasn’t just made
for...anything?

Before heading to a haven to cry I was held back by my professor Mr. Soin, introducing an
opportunity under his organization, CODEIE. I was too imbalanced and overwhelmed to make
any rational decision, as the guilt and disappointment spiraled around my mind while he went
into further detail on the event. I heard him talk but never caught what he said. My initiative
was to be excused from the classroom as my emotions slowly built up and like a ticking bomb,
exploding at any second. It wasn’t until then when my ears were able to catch a few words,
“children”' and “tutoring”.

Was he asking me to tutor kids in computer science in one of his organization’s events? I
couldn’t understand why; maybe it was out of pity? The thought of it made me more upset. For
a student like myself, who was on the edge of failing her course on programming, what could
have hypnotized my teacher to ask me to attend his event? Why would he ask me out of all the
other students? Why would I participate if coding was nothing more than a lost dream from
ages ago?

It was by then when I knew the root behind my dying passion. The answer was Ally, a girl from a
Korean show. She was my female idol of a programmer since I was 7, and has inspired me more
than any tv character. I remember watching her scenes as she was able to code and break
 28

through high-security systems and doors within seconds to save her friends. When she made
her first appearance, she asked the other characters if she could join missions with them, to be
a part of the main character’s adventure. It was at that moment when they stated her gender as
if it was an insult.

“But you are a girl!”

This statement was what she always repetitively heard from the other characters, yet that never
stopped her from accomplishing missions nor exceeding them at the end. Discrimination has
always occured in our world, and strong women like Ally have always experienced it. It’s been,
“found that in the traditionally male-dominated fields of science, technology, engineering and
math (STEM), only 19 percent of men said they had experienced gender discrimination at work,
versus 50 percent of women” (Chuck). Ally’s character to combat discrimination along with her
compiling skills were what made me so fond of her. She was the role model that led me to
pursue a male dominant technology-based field. Her character gave me white hope that I too,
could be like her if I try harder and take the chance. She gave me hope that I could be the
successful woman she was where the judgment and discrimination never restrained her from
accomplishing so much.

Mustering up the courage to hold back my hoarse voice, I let out a strong “yes”. I was given the
information on what to study and prepared myself in the following weeks.

The kids I was assigned were around the ages of 7-12. I prepared and studied the course
material and within a few weeks, the event started and I arrived at the location. Dropped off by
my parents, I was in front of my old middle school building. I was shocked at how my middle
school has shrunken. The middle school was much smaller than I thought, ever since I got used
to the building of the high school which was far larger. It was made of brick texture with narrow
windows that are impossible to see through with the grain-like material built in the windows.
The very small doors capable of fitting people within the ages of 11-14 were held open by
committee members and the school faculty. After giving myself a few minutes to fully grasp the
details of my old school building, I eventually walked in.

The school wasn’t much in comparison to the high school I attended. The walls were narrow,
and within each step, the nostalgic feeling grew stronger. To be so young, I reminisced about the
technology club I have attended throughout middle school. The thought of having that strong
drive for technology as it slowly dispersed away within the next few years. As I reached the
cafeteria of the school, I was met up with big posters.

“CODEIE - Computer Science for Kids”.

There were big carts with dozens of chrome books and pizza boxes on the right side of the
building. On the cafeteria tables was where everything was set up, there were bags and
manuals, and stickers for the kids. The cafeteria tables were grouped into three sections:
Robotics, and two programming languages, Scratch and Javascript. As I looked around, there
 29

were many mentors in orange shirts preparing and setting up all the materials for the tables
they were assigned in. It was to no surprise that the majority were men, just as it’s always been
in my STEM classes. It gave me a sense of isolation, a sense that I was excluded even though
everyone is supposed to work as one in the event. It was then when I saw 6 other girl mentors
in the cafeteria, and it gave me a sense of comfort that I was no longer the only one. As I talked
with the other girls for a brief moment, we understood each other’s position, and we all wished
each other good luck at the event and with our students. It was one of those “Women support
other women '' moments, and it gave me confidence and the reassurance I sought.

As I approached Mr. Soin, he greeted me with a warm welcome and lent me an orange shirt
with the organization's name. It was a symbolic meaning of mentorship, the order to put on the
enthusiastic mindset despite the discouragement I'd receive from myself. I was assigned to the
front table in front of the cafeteria entrance. After I had finished aligning all of the material on
the table so that the kids can individually get started with the activity. I watched as each child
was dropped off by their parents, and was separated after a hug and a kiss. Mr. Soin was
standing next to the carts and began handing them the laptops along with a name tag sticker so
that it’ll make things easier for the mentors to get started and be familiar with their students.
During the first 30 minutes since the event started, I repetitively watched the kids get started,
and walk to their assigned tables. Each child was around the age of 6 and was all excited to
begin the boot camp event. Taking a glimpse of their faces, they looked like they were awaiting
an exciting adventure as if joy was bestowed upon them. They were so grateful to be in this
cafeteria at this very moment.

It was around an hour ago when I saw a boy walk up to my table. He was more petite than the
average 6-year-old, but he had a very strong and outgoing personality as he asked me
deliberately about when we would begin, and what we were going to do. I eventually helped
him with setting up the internet and got to learn more about my student until more arrived
over time, one by one. I was eventually filled up with 6 inspiring souls of wonder, and within
time, the event officially began.

Mr. Soin began introducing the directions and signaled all of us mentors to begin with our tasks.
I begin with setting an introduction of myself, what I do, and let them be aware that I am here
to help them with their tasks whenever they get stuck. They all introduced themselves in return
with enthusiasm and excitement as they all logged into the website Scratch. The program
consisted of blocks with many colors, representing the block coming from a certain category, all
varying from all colors of the rainbow. The blocks represented a certain action from making a
certain noise to changing the color of many objects (varying from many animals to people). We
began with the basics, like moving a certain object around in many directions, repeating certain
actions through iteration, and playing with the background setting. As I watched each student
think hard and put all the pieces together, from block to block on the program, they were filled
with joy as they were able to do the things I assigned them to do. As for others who struggled, I
encouraged them not to be devastated by it as the focus was the concept of trial and error.
Through many attempts, they were all able to figure it out with my guidance.
 30

As many students passed and were able to quickly understand the basics as we proceeded to
the next tasks, it was a shy girl named Rue who sat at the end of the table I was able to resonate
with. She was the only girl at the table, and she felt very alone and barely spoke throughout the
event. She didn’t do anything outstanding in the tasks. She often made many errors and needed
the most assistance in comparison to the boys. What distinguished her from the others though,
was her dedication as she continuously asked for help again and again. It didn’t matter to her
how discouraging it was. It resembled myself in some way, as I was unable to excel in my classes
like everyone else. It was uncomfortable to ask the others for help and communicate with
someone, but that wasn’t the case for Rue. Even so, the difference starts when she continues to
try while I slowly gave up on computing. It was ironic, how I was older than her and had far
more experience than my student yet her commitment was something I’ve never shown or
done in my case. Every time I helped her, she was filled with inspiration and content. She would
be fixated on the code shown for several minutes, grasping every knowledge and explanation
I’ve taught her on a specific problem. She has shown me that although she is often behind on
the lessons, she still attempts to go for what she is interested in anyways. I thought to myself
that I too should put in more effort, no matter how depressing it was to be the lost student in
the class, no matter the imbalance in gender equality.

Throughout the event, the bond between my students and I grew, as they were more
comfortable and open on what they needed help with. We worked as a team through many
mini-events. We competitively made the tallest tower out of noodles than the other tables, ate
lunch together, and visited the robotics section. At the robotics section, we learned about how
their drones work and saw amazing robot tricks from the robotics team. It was by then when I
eventually discovered my passion for computer science slowly rekindled. I was able to witness
their reactions and smiles when they were able to overcome the challenges and debug their
projects. It gave me a sense of hope seeing their meaningful smile, how I was able to make
them have a great time computing.

After many hours, we eventually reached the last assessment where the kids had to make a
story with everything they’ve learnt. As they began working on their work, I witnessed the
process and how each block was built and added one by one, how characters were changed by
color, and how things were repetitively tested over and over again. It was about an hour later
when all of my students had completed the assessment. They all excitedly waited for me to
watch the small stories that they’ve made. As I’ve watched cats take a trip to the moon,
students become friends at a school setting, and a cat going trick or treating with a dog, I’ve
completed watching all the wonderful stories they’ve made. From each moment I’ve spent
individually watching their stories, my heart melted by just how wholesome they are and how
innocent the stories were as they were all played out. As I commented just how great each of
their projects was, it was by then when Rue walked up to me and said words I’ve never
imagined hearing.

“You are the best technology teacher, thank you.”

 31

I wasn’t sure if she was aware that I was a student failing her CS courses, the lowest of the low
for computing and not made for anything related to that field. It didn’t make sense, in just 7
hours she viewed me with the conclusion that I am the best?

I was so confused, all I did was the basics of the basics. To be valued for the efforts I put in when
that is considered nothing in comparison to my classes and classmates sparked the passion I
once had. I realized that I was able to make my students have an amazing time on the
challenging course. I was able to further their passions and interest in coding. I felt like I was in
the shoes of my inspiring character, I felt that in a way to their eyes, I was Ally.

The thought of it encouraged me to continue moving forward, and even gain an internship with
Mr. Soin until I graduated high school. I never got to see the first students I had in the future
events I've worked in. I never forgot how their actions influenced me that I was made for STEM.
My students were the consequence of my choice, and I have never once regretted the decision
I’ve made for it. My first students were my spark of enlightenment and liberation from my
narrowed mindset. It was over months that within each event, my passion slowly rekindled.
Rue’s words and Ally’s character became the sole reminder that I was capable of achieving the
goals I had despite my academic grades from my computing courses. It didn’t matter if I was the
only girl in my classes anymore.

In today’s society, the occupation of women in STEM and IT fields has always been a social issue
for many years. The employment rates between the two sexes have always been one-sided, as
men always outnumbered women. As time continues, many great organizations I’ve been a part
of like NCWiT Aspirations, NCWiT K-12 Alliance, and the NCWiT Academic Alliance helps
increase the representation of women and their success in male leading career paths. We make
the effort to encourage women to major and achieve their dreams and goals into computing
and engineering fields all over the world. Overcoming my challenge, I eventually decided to
major in Computer Science and Mathematics within the next few years at Montclair State
University. I’ve come to the conclusion that being the lone girl in my future courses will not be a
definition of discouragement, but a message of change for future generations to come.

Works Cited
Chuck, Elizabeth. “Half of Women in STEM Have Experienced Gender Discrimination at Work,
Study Finds.” [Link], NBCUniversal News Group, 10 Jan. 2018,
[Link]
discrimination-work-study-finds-n836116.
Funk, Cary, and Kim Parker. “Women and Men in Stem Often at Odds over Workplace Equity.”
Pew Research Center's Social & Demographic Trends Project, Pew Research Center, 21
Aug. 2020,
[Link]
n-at-odds-over-workplace-equity/.
 32

Final Draft, Rachel Rubio’s “Code of Passion”

I had about 10 minutes left. I was taking my Computer Science principles exam as time was
ticking short. I could hear the pencils tap repetitively, like a song that I didn't know the lyrics to,
on the desk as my male classmates wrote their answers for the short-response problems.
Looking down at my paper, the prompt was asking me to make a program including five
methods to calculate three different math functions: the Pythagorean Theorem, finding the
average and median with a set of numbers, and calculating the area of a circle and rectangle.

I stared intensely at my exam, stressed and unsure of the answers on my paper, debating
whether the algorithm written was functional and free of syntax errors. There have always been
moments like this when I acknowledged to myself that I was not the only individual who
struggled with computer science, but I was also one of the very few female students in the
class. Women have always been less than the population of men in my IT classes for many
years. Women have always been underrepresented in IT fields. It’s been stated that “women’s
representation has decreased from 32% in 1990 to 25% today” (Funk). Being aware of such
statistics takes a huge toll on women like myself. It affects our self-esteem and certainty of
taking on higher positions in our career life without the face of discrimination and sexual
harassment.

I felt that I was incapable of doing well because I wasn't a man. I have always felt self-conscious
and feared that the answers I’ve written in my exam would be incorrect because
I was a woman answering a man’s question. Wrapping together all my scattered thoughts on
paper felt like I was grasping the scattered fragments of my life.

The time ended and the bell for the next period rang. Handing in my test, I felt the guilt and
negative thoughts weighing down on me. What if it wasn’t a good grade? What if I am just not
made for coding? What if I wasn’t just made for...anything?

My head was hazy, with guilt and disappointment stabbing my chest with its cold icy blade.
Before running to the quiet embrace of an empty bathroom stall where I could cry my heart out,
Professor Soin held me back. I heard him talk but never caught what he said. My initiative was
to be excused from the classroom as my emotions slowly built up like a ticking bomb, ready to
explode at any second. It wasn’t until then that my ears were able to catch a few words:
“children” and “tutoring.”

Was he asking me to tutor kids in computer science in one of his organization’s events? I
couldn’t understand why; maybe it was out of pity? The thought of it made me more upset. For
a student like myself, who was on the edge of failing her course on programming, what could
have hypnotized my teacher to ask me to attend his event? Why would he ask me out of all the
other students? Why would I participate if coding was nothing more than a lost dream from
ages ago?
 33

I knew the answer to my questions, the answer was Ally. She was a girl from a Korean kid show
and my role model of a programmer since I was 7. She has inspired me more than any television
character. I remember my heart pounding like a drum as I held my breath in suspense watching
her code and breakthrough high-security systems and doors within seconds to save her friends.
When she made her first appearance, she asked the other characters if she could join missions
with them, to be a part of the main character’s adventure. It was at that moment when they
stated her gender as if it was an insult.

“But you are a girl!”

This statement was what she always repetitively heard from the other characters, yet that never
stopped her from accomplishing missions nor exceeding them at the end. Discrimination has
always occurred in our world, and strong women like Ally have always experienced it. It’s been,
“found that in the traditionally male-dominated fields of science, technology, engineering, and
math (STEM), only 19 percent of men said they had experienced gender discrimination at work,
versus 50 percent of women” (Chuck). Ally’s character combating discrimination along with her
compiling skills were what made me so fond of her. She was the role model that led me to
pursue a male dominant technology-based field. Her character gave me wistful white hope that
I too, could be like her if I try harder and take the chance. She gave me hope that I could be the
successful woman she was, where judgment and discrimination never restrained her from
accomplishing so much.

Mustering up the courage to hold back my hoarse voice, I let out a strong “Yes.” I was given the
information on what to study and prepared myself in the following weeks.

I blinked, and suddenly it was the day of the event. In the car, I plucked any trace of courage I
could find and dismissed any questions my parents had with a laugh, masking away my doubts. I
eventually left the car and found myself in front of the middle school I formerly went to. The
middle school was much smaller than I remembered. It was made of brick texture with narrow
grain-like windows that made it impossible to see through the building. Within these walls was
the key to my childhood memories. After giving myself a few minutes to recover from the
sudden burst of nostalgia, I eventually walked in. Little had changed about my old middle
school. The boys attending the event ran around and “playfully” taunted the girls.
​
“Boys rule, girls drool!”, the boys teased.

Not knowing the consequences, this phrase could translate into a reason for self-oppression in a
young girl's mind.

“Girls cannot succeed where men have already dominated.”

A sudden realization poked the back of my mind. I realized my strong drive for technology had
slowly dispersed away when I took those boys’ words to heart all those years ago. This was
setting the stage for these girls attending middle school to suffer the same battle as I had, but
 34

there was little I could do. Society had already planned its oppression in every student’s
childhood. As I reached the cafeteria of the school, I was met up with big posters.

“CODEIE - Computer Science for Kids”.

There were armies of big carts with dozens of Chrome books charging inside and pizza boxes
stacked high as a skyscraper on the right side of the cafeteria. The long cafeteria tables,
stretching from wall to wall of the school, was where everything was set up. There were
manuals and stickers in the bags for the kids scattered like confetti all over the cafeteria tables.
The cafeteria tables were grouped into three sections: Robotics, and two programming
languages, Scratch and Javascript. As I looked around, there were many mentors in eye-catching
neon orange shirts preparing and setting up all the materials for the tables they were assigned
in. It was to no surprise that the majority of the volunteers were men, just as it’s always been in
my STEM classes. It gave me a sense of isolation, a sense that I was excluded even though
everyone is supposed to work as one in the event. It was then when I saw three other girl
mentors in the cafeteria, and it gave me a sense of comfort that I was no longer the only one. As
I talked with the other girls for a brief moment, we understood each other’s position, and we all
wished each other good luck at the event and with our students. It was one of those “women
support other women” moments, and it warmed my heart, giving me the confidence and the
reassurance I sought.

As I approached Mr. Soin, he greeted me with a warm welcome and lent me a shirt with the
organization's name. Putting on the shirt, it washed away my self-doubts and sense of isolation.
I was assigned to teach the first table people to see at the cafeteria entrance. The kids who had
already arrived scrambled toward their seats squealing and giggling, ready to start the events
with their assigned mentors. Mr. Soin walked around the cafeteria with the carts, handing them
their laptops and a name tag. Each child was no younger than the age of 10 and was excited to
begin the boot camp event. The students' faces were glowing, eyes sparkling with excitement.

I had just finished aligning all of the material on the table when I saw a boy heading my way. He
was more slender than the average 12-year-old but had a very strong and outgoing personality.
He bombarded me with questions after questions about what we were going to do and when
we would begin. I helped him set up the internet while more students arrived at the table, one
by one. My table eventually filled up with six bright-eyed and curious souls. Within time, the
event officially began.

I begin by introducing myself, reassuring my students that I was there to help them with their
tasks if they need it. They all introduced themselves in return with enthusiasm and excitement
as they all logged into the website, Scratch. The program consisted of blocks with many colors,
representing the block coming from a certain category, all varying from all colors of the rainbow.
The blocks represented a certain action such as making a certain noise ranging to changing the
color of many objects. We began with the basics, like moving a certain object around in many
directions, repeating certain actions through iteration using loops, and playing with the
background setting. As I watched each student think hard and put all the pieces together from
 35

block to block, they were filled with joy being able to do the things I assigned them to do. As for
others who struggled, I encouraged them not to be devastated as the concept of programming
was trial and error. Through many attempts, they were all able to figure it out with my guidance.

It was a shy girl named Rue who sat at the end of the table who I was able to resonate with
though. She was the only girl. She seemed lonely and barely spoke throughout the event. She
often made many errors and needed the most assistance in comparison to the boys. What
distinguished her from the others though was her dedication as she continuously asked for help
again and again. It didn’t matter to her how discouraging it was. Her dedication unlocked an
inspiration within me. She seemed to resemble me in some way, being the only girl in the group
and seemingly making endless mistakes. The difference is that she continued to try while I had
slowly given up on computing. It was ironic. I was older than her and had experienced more
than my students, yet her commitment was something I’d never shown or gained. She would be
fixated on a code for several minutes, grasping every knowledge and explanation I’d taught her
on a specific problem. She had shown me that although she was often behind on the lessons,
she still attempted to go for what she was interested in anyway. She inspired me to put more
effort into my work despite feeling lost or intimidated by gender inequality.

Throughout the event, the bond between my students and I grew. We breezed through
whatever challenges we faced together, such as building the tallest noodle tower. I eventually
rediscovered my passion for computer science when my students and I visited the robotics
section. Witnessing their fascination as the drones flew around gave me a sense of satisfaction
that I had successfully made this event enjoyable for them. As the end of the event drew near,
the children tackled their last assessment. It was to make a short story with all the knowledge
they had learned. When they finished, they all excitedly waited for me to watch the small
stories that they’d made. As I watched cats take a trip to the moon, students become friends in
a school setting, and a cat going trick or treating with a dog, I completed watching all the
wonderful stories they had made. From each moment I spent individually watching their stories,
my heart melted by just how wholesome and innocent their stories were. As I “oohed” and
“aahed” at just how great each of their projects was, Rue walked up to me and said words I’ve
never imagined hearing.

“You are the best technology teacher, thank you.”

​
I wasn’t sure if she was aware that I was a student failing her Computer Science courses, the
lowest of the low for computing and not made for anything related to the field. It didn’t make
sense. In just seven hours she viewed me with the conclusion that I was the best?

I was so confused, all I did was the basics. To be valued for the efforts I put in when that was
considered nothing in comparison to my classes and classmates sparked the passion I once had.
I realized that I was able to make my students have an amazing time on the challenging course. I
was able to further their passions and interest in coding. I felt like I was in the shoes of my
inspiring character. I felt that in a way to their eyes, I was Ally.
 36

The thought of it encouraged me to continue moving forward, and even gain an internship with
Mr. Soin until I graduated high school. I never got to see the first students I had in the future
events I worked in. However, I never forgot how their actions influenced me that I was made for
the STEM field. My students were the consequence of my choice, and I have never once
regretted the decision I’ve made for it. My first students were my spark of enlightenment and
liberation from my narrowed mindset. It was over months that within each event, my passion
slowly rekindled. Rue’s words and Ally’s character became the sole reminder that I was capable
of achieving the goals I had despite my academic grades from my computing courses. It didn’t
matter if I was the only girl in my classes anymore.

As time continued I joined many great organizations such as NCWiT Aspirations, NCWiT K-12
Alliance, and the NCWiT Academic Alliance. The main goal of these organizations helps increase
the representation of women and their success in male leading career paths. We make the
effort to encourage women to major and achieve their dreams and goals in computing and
engineering fields all over the world.

Every girl I assisted in the events I‘ve attended under this organization reassured me that I was
able to assist and gave a sense of accomplishment to my past self. My accomplishments were
the message to my past self that I was enough. Not just for a woman, but an individual. My
accomplishments also gave the message to my current and future self that I can accomplish
anything I put my mind to. Overcoming my challenges, I eventually decided to major in Data
Science and Mathematics at Montclair State University. I’ve attended the Summer Bridge
Program, then excelled in my programming courses. I was even in fifth place for the highest
grade in the Python Programming course I took, along with excelling in my math course.
To be a woman is a symbolism of power, compassion, and dedication. Women like myself in
STEM fields learn and can break through these male-dominated fields, and we will look
beautiful when we do it. Looking back, the phrase “but you are a girl” which once was loud and
discouraged me, is now nothing more than a whisper in the back of my mind. I’ve concluded
that being the lone girl in my future courses will not be a definition of discouragement, but a
message of change for future generations to come.

Works Cited
Chuck, Elizabeth. “Half of the Women in STEM Have Experienced Gender Discrimination at
Work, Study Finds.” [Link], NBCUniversal News Group, 10 Jan. 2018,
[Link]
discrimina tion-work-study-finds-n836116.
Funk, Cary, and Kim Parker. “Women and Men in Stem Often at Odds over Workplace Equity.”
Pew Research Center's Social & Demographic Trends Project, Pew Research Center, 21
Aug. 2020,
[Link]
n-at-odds-o ver-workplace-equity/.
 37

Early Draft, Carli Vinciguerra’s “Learning to Grow”

Humans are creatures of habit. By nature we like routine, schedule, and order. Because of this,
we tend to have an innate fear of change and the unknown. Periods of change are often
associated with periods of personal growth, because with every great shift we have to learn
how to cope with it in order to carry on. When my dad got remarried and moved across town I
felt like my world was diverging, but through this chaos I learned not to dwell on the past or
focus on the future, because you can only accept change if you are fully present.

When I was little my dad went to church in the evenings every week and he would leave me
with our neighbors. They were an elderly Italian couple that grew very close to us and became
grandparent-like. The wife taught me some Italian and I would impress her by greeting her with
some new words I learned every time I came over. Every summer they would travel back to Italy
for a few months, and they would usually bring back cool things like snacks and toys. One time
they brought back some nespole tree seedlings- nespole is Italian for loquat which is a small
fruit similar to an apricot. They gave some seedlings to us to plant in our backyard. They had
many nespole trees, and I always loved picking the fruit, so I was so excited to have a tree of my
own. Over the next couple weeks, months, and years we watched the tree grow, and every
spring I would hope for the first fruit harvest.

While we waited for the harvest, my dad got remarried and we were building a new house
across town. Nespole trees produce fruit in June. In April of 2012 my dad, my new step-mom
and new step-siblings, and I moved. We missed our first harvest by two months, and moved into
our new house with no nespole tree. After a few rough months, I was having a tough time
warming up to the new house. I began having panic attacks and crying myself to sleep because
nothing in my new life felt familiar anymore. One day at the end of the summer before 5th
grade, my dad received a call from our old neighbors. They had just gotten back from their trip
to Italy that year and they had brought back more nespole seedlings. My dad and I drove back
down to our old neighborhood to get the seeds and we planted them in our backyard. The roots
took hold and a new tree grew. This small piece of my past had been renovated to fit into my
new life, and soon I fit into my new life as well. The tree provided a sense of familiarity and
normality that I had been yearning for. Last spring I finally got to harvest my first fruit. Tears
began to pool in my eyes as I picked my first piece of fruit off the branch. Just the right firmness.
The perfect orange-yellow color. About the size of a golf ball. I felt the tears release from my
eyes and stream down my cheeks as I took a bite, and the salty tears complemented the sweet
fruit. Normally, fruit doesn’t pull at my heart strings, but this one small, orange-colored,
subtropical delicacy had me crying like a baby.
Navigating this change in my life taught me the valuable lesson of letting go and moving on. I
was having such a hard time adjusting to the new house, my new step-mom, new step-siblings,
and new area of town because I didn’t want to give up the comfort and familiarity of everything
at my old house. Getting caught up in the past prevents you from having a present mindset and
acknowledging change. Change is inevitable, and we must be prepared to handle it by being
ready for anything life throws at us. Once I was able to bring some familiarity into my new
 38

house, I was able to ease into my new surroundings and create new memories and experiences.
The nespole tree grew with me and gave me a connection to my new home.
 39

Middle Draft, Carli Vinciguerra’s “Learning to Grow”

Humans are creatures of habit. By nature we like routine, schedule, and order. Because of this,
we tend to have an innate fear of change and the unknown. Periods of change are often
associated with periods of personal growth because with every great shift we have to learn how
to cope with it in order to carry on. When my dad got remarried and moved across town I felt
like my world was diverging. Through this chaos I learned how to ground myself and accept the
present moment, even when the world around you is shifting.

When I was little my dad went to church in the evenings every week and he would leave me
with our neighbors, Frank and Anna. They were an elderly Italian couple who grew very close to
us and became grandparent-like. Anna taught me some Italian and I would impress her by
greeting her with some new words I learned every time I came over.

“Ciao Anna!” I would greet her, giddy with excitement and nerves, hoping I would pronounce
my next lines right, “come stai?” This is the standard greeting in Italian, which translates to
hello, how are you? Anna would respond, “Ah! Molto bene. Grazie Carlita,” Very well. Thank
you, while my dad beamed with pride.

One of my favorite activities to do at Frank and Anna’s was pick nespoles, or loquats, in their
backyard. They must have had around ten nespole trees in their backyard, and when they would
produce fruit in the early summer, Anna and I would grab a basket and harvest the small orange
fruits together. Our basket would be full to the brim once we made our rounds to all of the
trees, and then Anna would turn the fruits into all sorts of jams and pies and other summer
treats. Shortly after nespole season, each summer Frank and Anna would travel back to Italy for
a few months. They would usually bring back cool things like snacks and toys for me and their
grandchildren. One time they brought back some nespole tree seedlings, and they graciously
gifted one to my dad and I so we could have a tree of our own. My dad and I prepared the
perfect spot in our little backyard for our tree. We got the right soil, we got support beams for
the trunk, and we got me a watering can so I could water it (even though Dad had sprinklers
that actually did the job). Over the next couple weeks, months, and years we watched the tree
grow, and every June I would hope for the first fruit harvest.

Over those years of us waiting for the harvest, my dad met a woman. They got married and
started building a new house across town. The construction took several months, and every
time I was with my dad in those months, we drove to see the progress of the house. He would
get so excited seeing the small details he hand-selected come to fruition throughout the
construction process. I felt like I was just along for the ride. As a third grader, all these decisions
in my life were being made for me, and at a very fast pace. In April of 2012, my dad, my new
step-mom and new step-siblings, and I moved. I had to share a bathroom for the first time. I had
to go up a set of stairs to get to my room. I couldn’t sleep with my dad if I got scared in the
middle of the night. I could see my dad was happy, but I couldn’t help but miss my old
neighborhood that was close to my friends and my school. I would think about the baby
 40

pictures of me in the old house, and my hand print in the concrete of the sidewalk out front,
and my tree.

We missed our first harvest by two months. After a few rough months, I was having a tough
time warming up to the new house. I began having panic attacks and crying myself to sleep
because nothing in my new life felt familiar anymore. One day at the end of the summer before
5th grade, my dad received a call from our old neighbors. They had just gotten back from their
trip to Italy that year and they had brought back more nespole seedlings. My dad and I drove
back down to our old neighborhood to get the seeds and we planted them in our backyard. The
roots took hold and a new tree grew. This small piece of my past had been renovated to fit into
my new life, and soon I fit into my new life as well. The tree provided a sense of familiarity and
normality that I had been yearning for. Last spring I finally got to harvest my first fruit. Tears
began to pool in my eyes as I picked my first piece of fruit off the branch. Just the right firmness.
The perfect orange-yellow color. About the size of a golf ball. I felt the tears release from my
eyes and stream down my cheeks as I took a bite, and the salty tears complemented the sweet
fruit. Normally, fruit doesn’t pull at my heart strings, but this one small, orange-colored,
subtropical delicacy had me crying like a baby.

Navigating this change in my life taught me the valuable lesson of letting go and moving on. I
was having such a hard time adjusting to the new house, my new step-mom, new step-siblings,
and new area of town because I didn’t want to give up the comfort and familiarity of everything
at my old house. Getting caught up in the past prevents you from having a present mindset and
acknowledging change. Change is inevitable, and we must be prepared to handle it by being
ready for anything life throws at us. Once I was able to bring some familiarity into my new
house, I was able to ease into my new surroundings and create new memories and experiences.
The nespole tree grew with me and gave me a connection to my new home.
 41

Final Draft, Carli Vinciguerra’s “Learning to Grow”

Humans are creatures of habit. By nature we like routine, schedule, and order. Because of this,
we tend to have an innate fear of change and the unknown. This phenomenon is especially
prominent in children, who experience unknowns constantly. When my dad got remarried and
moved across town, I felt like my world was diverging and everything became unknown. I had
such little control over the circumstances of my life, and yet I was expected to adapt just as
quickly as the adults in my life to the changes around me. Many other children have had similar
experiences. Growing up under these conditions can cause adverse effects in young adulthood
and continue into the rest of their lives.

When I was little my dad went to church in the evenings every week and he would leave me
with our neighbors, Frank and Anna. They were an elderly Italian couple who grew very close to
us and became grandparent-like. Anna taught me some Italian and I would impress her by
greeting her with some new words I learned every time I came over.

“Ciao Anna!” I would greet her, giddy with excitement and nerves, hoping I would pronounce
my next lines right, “Come stai?” This is the standard greeting in Italian, which translates to
Hello, how are you? Anna would respond, “Ah! Molto bene. Grazie Carlita,” Very well. Thank
you, while my dad beamed with pride.

One of my favorite activities to do at Frank and Anna’s was pick nespoles, or loquats, in their
backyard. They must have had around ten nespole trees in their backyard, and when they would
produce fruit in the early summer, Anna and I would grab a basket and harvest the small orange
fruits together. Our basket would be full to the brim once we made our rounds to all of the
trees, and then Anna would turn the fruits into all sorts of jams and pies and other summer
treats. Shortly after nespole season, each summer Frank and Anna would travel back to Italy for
a few months. They would usually bring back cool things like snacks and toys for me and their
grandchildren. One time they brought back some nespole tree seedlings, and they graciously
gifted one to my dad and I so we could have a tree of our own. My dad and I prepared the
perfect spot in our little backyard for our tree. We got the right soil, support beams for the
trunk, and a watering can so I could water it (even though Dad had sprinklers that actually did
the job). Over the next couple weeks, months, and years we watched the tree grow, and every
June I would hope for the first fruit harvest.

Over those years of us waiting for the harvest, my dad met a woman. They got married and
started building a new house across town. The construction took several months, and every
time I was with my dad in those months, we drove to see the progress of the house. He would
get so excited seeing the small details he hand selected come to fruition throughout the
construction process. I felt like I was just along for the ride. As a third grader, all the decisions in
my life were being made for me and at a very fast pace. Researcher and clinician James Bray
discussed the concerns facing children of remarriage in his article “Making Stepfamilies Work.”
Bray writes, “Remarriage may resurrect old, unresolved anger and hurts from the previous
marriage, for adults and children. For example, hearing that her parent is getting remarried, a
 42

child is forced to give up hope that the custodial parents will reconcile.” Remarriage causes
reflection on past marriages, which can cause tension in the new relationships a child is
forming. In April of 2012, my dad, my new step-mom and step-siblings, and I moved. I had to
share a bathroom for the first time. I had to go up a set of stairs to get to my room. I couldn’t
sleep with my dad if I got scared in the middle of the night. I could see my dad was happy, but I
couldn’t help but miss my old neighborhood that was close to my friends and my school. I
would think about the baby pictures of me in the old house and my hand print in the concrete
of the sidewalk out front and my tree. These longing feelings I had were not unique, however. E

Educator Lisa Poppe of the University of Nebraska explored the effects of divorce on children in
her essay titled "Dating, Remarriage and Children.” In this essay Poppe explains the results of a
20-year study done by researcher Dr. Constance Ahrons on children of divorce. Poppe writes,
“One-third of the children in Ahrons’ study reported that their parents’ remarriages were more
stressful than their divorces. When a primary custodial parent remarries, it may involve a
change of home or school, loss of friends, or moving farther from the non-custodial parent.” I
experienced several of these changes; my father’s remarriage rearranged my life.

We missed our first harvest by two months. After a few rough months, I was having a tough
time warming up to the new house. I began having panic attacks and crying myself to sleep
because nothing in my new life felt familiar anymore. In hindsight I now know this was the first
time I dealt with anxiety. I didn’t know at the time, but my father’s remarriage was actually a
traumatizing event for me. Author Sarah Peterson defined what can be traumatic for children in
her article “About Child Trauma.” She defines a traumatic event for a child as “ A frightening,
dangerous, or violent event that poses a threat to a child’s life or bodily integrity.” She then
expands upon that definition to include, “Witnessing a traumatic event that threatens life or
physical security of a loved one can also be traumatic. This is particularly important for young
children as their sense of safety depends on the perceived safety of their attachment figures.”
From the outside, there seemed to be only positive outcomes from my father’s remarriage. I got
a bigger room, a nicer neighborhood on a golf course, new nice family members, and two
incomes, but when I look back I now understand that the loss of control over my life caused a
deep traumatic response in me. It seemed as though I would never find a way to be content in
my new life. One day at the end of the summer before 5th grade, my dad received a call from
our old neighbors. They had just gotten back from their trip to Italy that year and they had
brought back more nespole seedlings. My dad and I drove back down to our old neighborhood
to get the seeds and we planted them in our backyard. The roots took hold and a new tree
grew. This small piece of my past had been renovated to fit into my new life, and soon I fit into
my new life as well. The tree provided a sense of familiarity and normality that I had been
yearning for. Last spring I finally got to harvest my first fruit. Tears began to pool in my eyes as I
picked my first piece of fruit off the branch. Just the right firmness. The perfect orange-yellow
color. About the size of a golf ball. I felt the tears release from my eyes and stream down my
cheeks as I took a bite, and the salty tears complemented the sweet fruit. Normally, fruit
doesn’t pull at my heart strings, but this one small, orange-colored, subtropical delicacy had me
crying like a baby.
 43

Navigating this change in my life taught me the valuable lesson of letting go and moving on. I
was having such a hard time adjusting to the new house, my new step-mom, new step-siblings,
and new area of town because I didn’t want to give up the comfort and familiarity of everything
at my old house. Getting caught up in the past prevents you from having a present mindset and
acknowledging change. Change is inevitable, and we must be prepared to handle it by being
ready for anything life throws at us. Once I was able to bring some familiarity into my new
house, I was able to ease into my new surroundings and create new memories and experiences.
The nespole tree grew with me and gave me a connection to my new home. Remarrying can be
traumatic for children and children respond to trauma in a unique way. If childhood trauma isn’t
handled with care, it can poorly affect those children for the rest of their lives. As a young adult
who was misunderstood in my youth, I want adults to listen to the children of today and hear
what is on their minds. I want adults to believe children when they say something is upsetting
or bothersome. By stopping and listening, maybe we can learn how to grow a new generation
that is more centered in their emotions, and ready to tackle any change life throws their way.

Works Cited
Bray, James. “Making Stepfamilies Work.” American Psychological Association, 23 Aug. 2019,
[Link]
Peterson, Sarah. “About Child Trauma.” The National Child Traumatic Stress Network, 5 Nov.
2018, [Link]
Poppe, Lisa. Dating, Remarriage and Children - Nebraska Extension.
[Link]
[Link].
 44

Section III: The Analysis Essay

 45

Introduction, Analysis Essay

The next essay that you will be completing for WRIT 105 focuses on the skill of analysis, which
literally means to break something into pieces in order to gain a better understanding of it. For
example, if you were asked to analyze an image, you might think about the background; any
people who are visible; the coloring; the angle of the camera shot; and any other elements that
you find notable. By breaking down these elements, you can then better explain how the parts
combine to make a whole. Considering all these elements, what would you say is the image’s
meaning? For this essay, you may be analyzing any number of artifacts including a speech, an
article, an image, a video, or something else. This process of analysis builds on your last essay,
the literacy narrative, where you were analyzing your own experiences; now, you will be
analyzing something separate from yourself.

Your instructor may incorporate some instruction on rhetoric into this unit. Rhetoric is the basis
of all communication, and will provide a useful frame for thinking about several aspects of
communication such as audience, timing, context, emotion, logic, and credibility.

By practicing how to effectively analyze a “text,” you are paving the way to being able to
effectively make an argument about it (our next sequence).
 46

Early Draft, Nick Beyer’s “Chained to the Rhythm”

Katy Perry and Skip Marley’s 2017 single, Chained to the Rhythm, is a chart-topping pop song
with a significant underlying message in regards to political and social awareness. Directed by
Matthew Cullen, the track’s viral music video was nominated for various awards and has
garnered over 700 million views on YouTube. Throughout the video, Chained to the Rhythm’s
clever lyrics are further elaborated upon in a visually compelling manner.

The music video takes place in “Oblivia”, a fictional amusement park, whose name serves as a
metaphor to the distractions of an oblivious modern society. The beginning of the video
represents the common belief that we have become too comfortable with the ongoing issues
that our country deals with on a regular basis. More people focus on their self-oriented social
media presence than those who participate in humanitarian efforts. Instead of living in the
moment, we would rather live in our bubbles.

Located at “Validation Station”, the first attraction that Perry’s character, Rose, rides is a
high-speed roller coaster whose seating arrangement is strictly determined by gender. The
coaster reinforces a heteronormative lifestyle by separating men and women—two men or two
women aren’t allowed to be seated together (0:47-1:04). While riding the attraction, digital
emoticons are plastered throughout the roller coaster’s tracks, which represents our obsession
with social media gratification and approval from other people (1:19-1:22). As the coaster
comes to an end, a classic amusement park photo is captured of Katy’s character and Simon, the
man that she sits next to on the ride. Under their picture, Rose and Simon acquire different
scores from the Validation Station. Even though the two characters completed the same task,
the man collects 9,478 likes, but Perry, a woman, only obtains 17 likes (1:34-1:37). This
particular frame of the music video demonstrates the gender wage gap that working women
often experience.

The next location Rose stops at is “Inferno H2O”, an area for refreshments that resembles a
typical gas station. Although the rest stop seems safe, the water is set on fire when served. As
the other patrons’ mouths are burned, Rose partially breaks out of her oblivious trance and
chooses to reject the drink (2:07-2:29). Inferno H2O references another massive problem that
we face: clean drinking water. Specifically in Flint, Michigan, the cleanliness of water systems in
populated cities are persistently neglected by the federal government. Access to sanitary water
is an essential aspect of survival, one that can’t be ignored by elected political officials.
At the end of the day, Rose attends an outdoor film screening for nighttime entertainment. The
projected motion picture is titled, “The Nuclear Family”, which portrays an old-fashioned
American couple and child in their stereotypical roles (2:30-2:49). As Rose skeptically watches
the movie, she is the only audience member to notice the presence of Skip Marley. He
encourages Rose to break free and connect with fellow Americans.

The courage to achieve political and social change starts from within, but when the sound in our
lives becomes distorted, we tend to lose our perseverance. Even though Chained to the Rhythm
and its accompanying video was initially viewed as controversial, the track became a major
 47

success. Released in February of 2017, Chained to the Rhythm debuted at No. 4 on the Billboard
Hot 100 Chart with over 15 million digital downloads in the United States during its first week of
sales. The influential single was released to put a spotlight on American politics and express
concern over the issues that our society deals with in order to evolve as a nation.

Work Cited
Perry, Katy, and Skip Marley. Chained to the Rhythm. YouTube. February 21, 2017.
​ [Link]/watch?v=Um7pMggPnug. Accessed on October 22, 2021.
 48

Middle Draft, Nick Beyer’s “Chained to the Rhythm”

Katy Perry and Skip Marley’s 2017 single, Chained to the Rhythm, is a chart-topping pop song
with a significant underlying message in regards to political and social awareness. Directed by
Matthew Cullen, the track’s viral music video was nominated for various awards and has
garnered over 700 million views on YouTube. Throughout the video, Chained to the Rhythm’s
clever lyrics are further elaborated upon in a visually compelling manner.

The music video takes place in “Oblivia”, a fictional amusement park, whose name serves as a
metaphor to the distractions of an oblivious modern society. As Perry’s character, Rose, enters
Oblivia with an elated smile on her face, the other theme park guests are glued to their phone
screens and exhibit an unawareness of their surroundings. The beginning of the video
represents the common belief that we have become too comfortable with the ongoing issues
that our country deals with on a regular basis. More people focus on their self-oriented social
media presence than those who participate in humanitarian efforts. Instead of living in the
moment, we would rather live in our bubbles.

When people set foot in Oblivia, they are drawn to “The American Dream Drop”, a towering
attraction that lifts miniature houses into the air. As these compact homes dangle from above,
they rapidly spin and drop (1:05-1:09). The American Dream Drop implies that achieving the
“American Dream” isn’t a simple goal to accomplish.

Located at “Validation Station”, the first attraction that Rose rides is a high-speed roller coaster
whose seating arrangement is strictly determined by gender. The coaster reinforces a
heteronormative lifestyle by separating men and women—two men or two women aren’t
allowed to be seated together (0:47-1:04). While riding the attraction, digital emoticons are
plastered throughout the roller coaster’s tracks, which represents our obsession with social
media gratification and approval from other people (1:19-1:22). As the coaster comes to an end,
a classic amusement park photo is captured of Katy’s character and Simon, the man that she sits
next to on the ride. Under their picture, Rose and Simon acquire different scores from the
Validation Station. Even though the two characters completed the same task, the man collects
9,478 likes, but Perry, a woman, only obtains 17 likes (1:34-1:37). This particular frame of the
music video demonstrates the gender wage gap that working women often experience.
The next location Rose stops at is “Inferno H2O”, an area for refreshments that resembles a
typical gas station. Although the rest stop seems safe, the water is set on fire when served. As
the other patrons’ mouths are burned, Rose partially breaks out of her oblivious trance and
chooses to reject the drink (2:07-2:29). Inferno H2O references another massive problem that
we face: clean drinking water. Specifically in Flint, Michigan, the cleanliness of water systems in
populated cities are persistently neglected by the federal government. Access to sanitary water
is an essential aspect of survival, one that can’t be ignored by elected political officials.

At the end of the day, Rose attends an outdoor film screening for nighttime entertainment. The
projected motion picture is titled, “The Nuclear Family”, which portrays an old-fashioned
American couple and child in their stereotypical roles (2:30-2:49). As Rose skeptically watches
 49

the movie, she is the only audience member to notice the presence of Skip Marley. He
encourages Rose to break free and connect with fellow Americans.

As co-writers of the song, Katy Perry, Skip Marley, Sia, Ali Payami, and Max Martin feel
Americans are figuratively tethered to a beat that we can’t free ourselves from. The courage to
achieve political and social change starts from within, but when the sound in our lives becomes
distorted, we tend to lose our perseverance. Even though Chained to the Rhythm and its
accompanying video was initially viewed as controversial, the track became a major success.
Released in February of 2017, Chained to the Rhythm debuted at No. 4 on the Billboard Hot 100
Chart with over 15 million digital downloads in the United States during its first week of sales.
The influential single was released to put a spotlight on American politics and express concern
over the issues that our society deals with in order to evolve as a nation.

Work Cited
Perry, Katy, and Skip Marley. Chained to the Rhythm. YouTube. February 21, 2017.
​ [Link]/watch?v=Um7pMggPnug. Accessed on October 22, 2021.
 50

Final Draft, Nick Beyer’s “Chained to the Rhythm”

Katy Perry and Skip Marley’s 2017 single, “Chained to the Rhythm,” is a chart-topping pop song
with a significant underlying message in regards to political and social awareness. Directed by
Matthew Cullen, the track’s viral music video was nominated for various awards and has
garnered over 700 million views on YouTube. Throughout the video, “Chained to the Rhythm’s”
clever lyrics are further elaborated upon in a visually compelling manner.

The music video takes place in “Oblivia,” a fictional amusement park, whose name serves as a
metaphor to the distractions of an oblivious modern society. The lyrics open with, “Are we crazy,
living our lives through a lens? Trapped in our white picket fence, like ornaments. So
comfortable, we’re living in a bubble, bubble. So comfortable, we cannot see the trouble,
trouble.” As Perry’s character, Rose, enters Oblivia with an elated smile on her face, the other
theme park guests are glued to their phone screens and exhibit an unawareness of their
surroundings. The beginning of the video represents the common belief that we have become
too comfortable with the ongoing issues that our country deals with on a regular basis. As a
society, we obsess over the unimportant aspects of life. For instance, more people focus on
their self-oriented social media presence than those who participate in humanitarian efforts.
Instead of living in the moment, we would rather live in our bubbles.

Written and recorded in early 2017, “Chained to the Rhythm” consists of countless details that
symbolize politically and socially relevant topics. When people set foot in Oblivia, they are
drawn to “The American Dream Drop,” a towering attraction that lifts miniature houses into the
air. As these compact homes dangle from above, they rapidly spin and drop. The American
Dream Drop implies that achieving the “American Dream” isn’t a simple goal to accomplish,
especially due to the unpredictability of real estate market inflation.

Located at “Validation Station,” the first attraction that Rose rides is a high-speed roller coaster
whose seating arrangement is strictly determined by gender. The coaster reinforces a
heteronormative lifestyle by separating men and women—two men or two women aren’t
allowed to be seated together. While riding the attraction, digital emoticons are plastered
throughout the roller coaster’s tracks, which represents our obsession with social media
gratification and approval from other people. Relying on the amount of “likes” we receive from
our online “followers” shouldn’t be how we seek validation. As the coaster comes to an end, a
classic amusement park photo is captured of Katy’s character and Simon, the man that she sits
next to on the ride. Under their picture, Rose and Simon acquire different scores from the
Validation Station. Even though the two characters completed the same task, the man collects
9,478 likes, but Perry, a woman, only obtains 17 likes. This particular frame of the music video
demonstrates the gender wage gap that working women often experience.

The most popular attraction in Oblivia is a human-sized hamster wheel. Each theme park guest
is so intrigued by the wheel that they are willing to wait in a line that is 1,984 hours long. The
wait time is a subtle reference to the well-known George Orwell novel, 1984, a narrative that
similarly takes place in a dystopian society. While on the spinning hamster wheel, few people
 51

are able to successfully navigate the attraction; for some guests, the action appears abundantly
strenuous. The hamster wheel signifies the idea that equal opportunity is presented, but not
evenly distributed.

The next location Rose stops at is “Inferno H2O,” an area for refreshments that resembles a
typical gas station. Although the rest stop seems safe, the water is set on fire when served. As
the other patrons’ mouths are burned, Rose partially breaks out of her oblivious trance and
chooses to reject the drink. Inferno H2O references another massive problem that we face:
clean drinking water. Specifically in Flint, Michigan, the cleanliness of water systems in
populated cities are persistently neglected by the federal government. Access to sanitary water
is an essential aspect of survival, one that can’t be ignored by elected political officials.

At the end of the day, Rose attends an outdoor film screening for nighttime entertainment. The
projected motion picture is titled, “The Nuclear Family,” which portrays an old-fashioned
American couple and child in their stereotypical roles. While in their house, the husband reads
the newspaper, the housewife irons his work clothes, and their daughter plays with her toys. As
Rose skeptically watches the movie, she is the only audience member to notice the presence of
Skip Marley. He raps, “Time is ticking for the empire… They woke up the lions.” Throughout his
verse, Marley encourages Rose to break free and connect with fellow Americans. This
meaningful interaction inspires her to navigate the spinning hamster wheel. After Rose beats
the challenging attraction, she stares into the camera with an awe-struck demeanor to indicate
that there is hope in our future.

In the single’s chorus, Katy sings, “Turn it up, it’s your favorite song. Dance, dance, dance to the
distortion. Turn it up, keep it on repeat. Stumbling around like a wasted zombie. We think we’re
free? Drink, this one’s on me. We’re all chained to the rhythm, to the rhythm, to the rhythm”. As
co-writers of the song, Katy Perry, Skip Marley, Sia, Ali Payami, and Max Martin feel Americans
are figuratively tethered to a beat that we can’t free ourselves from. The courage to achieve
political and social change starts from within, but when the sound in our lives becomes
distorted, we tend to lose our perseverance. Even though “Chained to the Rhythm” and its
accompanying video was initially viewed as controversial, the track became a major success.
Released in February of 2017, “Chained to the Rhythm” debuted at No. 4 on the Billboard Hot
100 Chart with over 15 million digital downloads in the United States during its first week of
sales. The influential single was released to put a spotlight on American politics and express
concern over the issues that our society deals with in order to evolve as a nation.

Work Cited
“Katy Perry - Chained To The Rhythm (Official) ft. Skip Marley” YouTube, uploaded by Katy Perry.
February 21, 2017. [Link]/watch?v=Um7pMggPnug.
 52

Final Draft of Adriana Herrera’s “A Rhetorical Analysis of ‘The Dangers of

a Single Story’”
In a once viral video in 2009, speaker and author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie shared her own
experiences of how dangerous it is for us to view others, and even a community, from a “single
story” lens in a global TED Talk. She creates an effective speech by connecting how much of an
influence literature has on everyone to personal anecdotes about her own life and how
believing certain things encourages us all to believe in single stories and narratives, no matter
the context. Adichie's use of rhetorical devices and language help highlight her viewpoint and
provide us with an understanding of what it is like to misunderstand due to a lack of knowledge
other than just a singular story.

Throughout her speech, Adichie forces the idea that each one of us has a single story about
someone. Not only as of the title of this speech and the main idea, she also allows us to see a
side of her so vulnerable [about the single story situation] that we are able to relate to her and
also see how she uses pathos and repetition at the same time. During Adichie's different
storytelling examples, she uses the same phrase over and over, such as when she recalls what
her college roommate first told her about what she thought about Africa, her own experiences
with Fide and his family, and what Western literature teaches its readers. She uses pathos by
consistently having her audience laugh at the subtle jokes she throws into her speech, and by
carefully following them with seriousness as Adichie recalls different times of those single
stories. She remembers when she learned that Fide’s family was poor and was startled that they
could do so much with so little as “poverty was [her] single story of them.” When speaking
about her American roommate, she says she “had a single story of Africa: a single story of
catastrophe. In this single story, there was no possibility of Africans being similar to her in any
way.” Using pathos and repetition of the single story, she states how important these stories are
to really emphasize her central claim of how everyone, including herself, has become
close-minded individuals when it comes to certain topics.

The choice of language Adichie uses when speaking, engages the audience to listen and think
proactively. Going off of the bigger pictures she had previously stated, Adichie goes a little bit
further and explains why single stories can really become detrimental to someone and to their
community as a whole. The reason why these single stories can be negative is because of the
power they hold. Adichie says that this power becomes so strong that it has "the ability to not
just to tell the story of another person, but to make it the definitive story of that person.” As she
also states, "The consequence of the single story is this: it robs people of dignity. It makes our
recognition four equal humanity difficult, it emphasizes how we are different rather than how
we are similar." Relating this to real-world situation, we see how this will always have an effect
on people no matter the time period. So many minorities have such negative stereotypes that
are impossible to get rid of, and without fully erasing the negative stereotype there will forever
be a trace of it. No matter the story or situation or context, everything and anything that has a
hint of the stereotype and the single story will forever have it and it is difficult to get rid of
because of how controlling the narrative is.
 53

In addition to being informative, her speech gives her credibility as an author and person. With
her Nigerian heritage, it is already unfortunately understood that she has also experienced
being on the wrong side of the single story, as exemplified earlier. She went through the effects
of stereotypes when moving from Nigeria to America, as referenced by her American
roommate. But credibility doesn’t always have to be about being an author or an important
person, but also about how modest, reliable, or relatable you are to your audience. Adichie
makes a full circle around her discussion: she starts off with her experiences as a child, how all
the books she read and wrote were only made through the viewpoints of Western literature and
civilization, and states “...how impressionable and vulnerable we are in the face of a story,
particularly as children.” Her childhood discussion shows how different it was from the
childhood of the children in books. She also establishes her credibility by being humble and
modest. Everyone believes in the same single story that in order for a writer to be a good and
successful one, they must have had a bad childhood. But she challenges this by saying “I had a
very happy childhood, full of laughter and love in a very close-knit family.” Being able to
challenge and contradict these ideas shows how relatable, humble, and willing author
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is and adds to the credibility of her speech.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED Talk helps raise awareness about the effects of how ignorance
does not grant us the notion to branch out, and, because of this, we focus on a singular story
that can affect our interpretation of different things [usually] with negative connotations. This
eventually leads to stereotypes. Using these rhetorical devices, she establishes herself as a
credible speaker, encourages the masses to accept diverse viewpoints and become more open,
advocates for literature to become more racially and culturally diverse, and creates a call to
action; we as a society, must act together. When complex people become reduced to single
stories, we let the surface-level stereotypes and prejudices get in the way of becoming more
diverse and accepting people and their communities.

Work Cited
Adichie, C. N. (2009, October 7). The danger of a single story. TED. Retrieved November 4, 2021,
from [Link]
story.
 54

Section IV: The Argument Essay

 55

Introduction, Argument Essay

For this essay, you will be practicing a skill that is probably familiar to you from writing essays in
high school: making an argument. This assignment builds on your last essay, which was focused
on analysis. Now that you know how to break something down and talk about its meaning, you
can better make arguments. For example, if you want to make an argument about the need for
immigration reform, you will need to analyze/break down the national conversation around this
issue before you make an argument about how we as a country should move forward. Analysis
and argument go hand-in-hand.

As part of your argument, you will need to conduct research on your chosen issue. What have
other people said about it? How will you place yourself within previous arguments about the
issue? You will then cite these sources that you have used. Your professor will review important
citation practices with you such as paraphrasing, finding credible sources, and incorporating a
quotation into your sentences smoothly. Through this assignment, you will express an informed
opinion about an issue that is of importance to you.
 56

Final Draft of Raymond Tisch’s “False Representation”

Asian people are so good at math. All Asians either have a medical degree or a computer science
degree. Asian people are so kind, and they never get into trouble. At a glance, these statements
may seem positive and can be considered compliments, but there is a phenomenon that
conceals racially motivated stereotypes called the “Model Minority Myth.” The Model Minority
refers to minority groups that achieved a high level of success in US society, such as Asian
American Pacific Islanders (AAPI). It is considered a myth because this minority group has its
own unique struggles that are not supported by this definition. Also, this myth is used to
compare minority groups in the US, which creates tension between them. Given the
circumstances that the AAPI community faces in America, the Model Minority myth encourages
false standards and stereotypes in which society normalizes high expectations of the AAPI
community. Because of this, AAPIs are pushed to achieve unrealistic expectations and forced to
conform to society's standards.

The Model Minority Myth (MMM) encourages false standards and stereotypes in which society
normalizes expectations. One of the stereotypes the MMM creates is “all Asians are rich and
wealthy.” The article title “Racial Wealth Snapshot: Asian Americans And The Racial Wealth
Divide” written by Dedrick Asante-Muhammad and Sally Sim reveal how there is a wealth gap in
the Asian American community. The information they cover is income, unemployment,
education, wealth, and the demographics of Asian Americans. In addition, they included graphs
that help visually represent issues that this minority faces. One specific point
Asante-Muhammad and Sim signify is poverty exists among the Asian American community.
This existence of poverty happens because Asian Americans face economic insecurities. With
the comparison of “8.1% of White and non-Hispanic Americans” living in poverty, “10.1% of
Asian Americans” are in the same situation (Asante-Muhammad & Sim). This percentage
difference emphasizes that the Asian American community is experiencing financial issues. The
MMM does not acknowledge this problem, and this creates high standards in which society
believes this financial problem does not impact this community. Consequently, Asian Americans
are falsely portrayed as a thriving community in the US due to the false standards and
stereotypes associated with the MMM.

The influence that the MMM has over the AAPI community is used to push the achievement of
unrealistic expectations. One of these unrealistic expectations is that “all Asians are smart.” The
2000 census article titled “We the People: Asians In the United States,” written by Terrance J.
Reeves and Claudette E. Bennett, covers different information about Asian Americans in the
United States. The information they present includes the marital status of the different ethnic
groups within the Asian American community. The information that is provided is visually
represented through multitudes of different graphs. One specific example that Reeves and
Bennett reveal is the different levels of educational attainment shown through the multiple
Asian-ethnic groups in the United State. They provide data that covers groups who achieved less
than a high school degree to a Bachelor's degree and up. According to their data, “49.6 percent
of Latinos,” “53.3 percent of Cambodians,” and “59.6 percent of Hmong” over twenty years or
older have less than a high school diploma (Reeves and Bennett). Other ethnic groups such as
 57

“8.9 percent of Japanese,” “13.7 percent of Koreans,” and “13.3 percent of Asian Indians” over
twenty years or older have less than a high school diploma (Reeves and Bennett). This
information from the U.S. Census Bureau debunks the stereotype that all Asians are smart. The
MMM conceals groups that have low educational attainments and boosts the groups that are
doing well. This issue misrepresents the AAPI community by giving qualities and expectations
which are unrealistic for multiple ethnicities to match.

Furthermore, these unrealistic expectations damage the Asian American community. In the
article “Model Minority At Risk: Expressed Needs Of Mental Health By Asian American Young
Adults'', written by Sunmin Lee, Hee-Soon Juon, Genevieve Martinez, Chiehwen E. Hsu, E.
Stephanie Robinson, Julie Bawa, and Grace X. Ma, discusses how the MMM affects the mental
health of Asian American young adults. In their work, they introduce the MMM and how it
affects Asian Americans. Also, they conducted an experiment that included results which
support their understanding of its effects. One specific point that these researchers wrote is
that Korean American students' health is affected in a negative way. This issue happened
because the values and background of being a Korean American student clashes with American
culture. “1,130 Korean American students aged from 18–29” suffer from mental health
consequences that deal with preserving “one's Korean background and values'' while
“adapt[ing] to the more individualistic culture of America'' (Lee, Juon, Martinez, E. Hsu,
Robinson, Bawa, & X. Ma). The stress and social pressures of the MMM contributes toward the
health of Asian Americans and is obscured from society. Adapting to American society is already
challenging enough, and the MMM exposes more difficult barriers for this community. As a
result, this underlying issue presents this community to be mentally healthy, but in reality this
community is encountering the same issues that other groups are facing.

Asian Americans are forced to conform to society's standards under the MMM. The article
“From Exotic To Invisible: Asian American Women’s' Experiences Discrimination” written by
Shruti Mukkamala and Karen L. Suyemoto defines the stereotype that Asian American women
experience. Taking this into a physiological perspective, they explain the discrimination Asian
American women face in the workplace and how they are seen by the media and pop culture. In
addition, they included why Asian American women are portrayed in a negative way. These
researchers conducted a study that dealt with issues about discrimination. Their study included
107 participants and the results consisted of different types of prejudices. These prejudices
cover six themes such as “exotic,” “not a leader,” “submissive,” “cute and small,” “invisible,” and
“service worker.” These traits and qualities mean Asian American women are seen as objects in
the eyes of popular culture and society's standards. Also, being portrayed as these stereotypes
marginalizes this minority, especially Asian American women in today’s society. For this reason,
the MMM negatively creates standards which Asian American do not truthfully embody.

With the standards that the AAPI community is forced to conform to, they are being punished
by its effects. One of the effects which exist is the bamboo ceiling phenomenon. The bamboo
ceiling phenomenon is defined as Asian Americans who are not able to progress high through
the corporate ladder. The article “Corporate America’s Bamboo Ceiling '' written by Grace Meng
explains the term bamboo ceiling and how it affects Asian Americans in the workplace. She
 58

suggests that Asian Americans are misrepresented in the workplace and this affects how they
are seen as corporate leaders. Also, the MMM plays an influential role in the existence of the
phenomenon. She states that Asian Americans make up a small percentage of leaders in
corporate America. According to the Leadership of Education for Asian Pacifics, Asian Americans
fill “2.6% of the Fortune 500 board seats'' (Meng). In addition to that, “APIs account for 27.2% of
the Silicon Valley workforce, but only 13.9% of the executive and board positions'' (Meng). The
influence of the MMM grants disadvantages for Asian Americans and creates a disconnect
between the worker and leaders in the workplace. Consequently, the depiction of Asian
Americans being smart, but not leaders, makes this minority group vulnerable and gives them
fewer opportunities for high-level success in the United States.

The issues that arise from the MMM such as encouraging false standards and stereotypes in
which society normalizes high expectations of AAPIs and pushes them to achieve unrealistic
expectations, creates a facade that the media and American culture do not see. This myth
causes more harm and creates more problems in the long run for the AAPI community and
other minorities in the US. If this issue is not solved, negative stereotypes such as “all Asian
people are so good at math'' and “all Asians are rich and wealthy,” will continue to damage and
not remodel this minority.

Works Cited
“Asian American Womens' Experiences of Discrimination - Spotlight | APA.” American
Psychological Association, July 2018,
[Link]
Asante-Muhammad, Dedrick, and Sally Sim. “Racial Wealth Snapshot: Asian Americans and the
Racial Wealth Divide.” NCRC, 27 July 2021,
[Link]
Meng, Grace. “Corporate America's Bamboo Ceiling.” The Hill, 18 July 2016,
[Link]
amboo-ceiling.
Reeves, Terrance J., and Claudette E. Bennett. “We the People: Asians in the United States.”
[Link], United States Census, 2000, Dec. 2004,
[Link]
Sunmin Lee, et al. “Model Minority at Risk: Expressed Needs of Mental Health by Asian
American Young Adults.” Journal of Community Health, vol. 34, no. 2, Apr. 2009, pp.
144–52. EBSCOhost, [Link]
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Resources
●​ Your classmates. Rely on one another for the questions you have regarding the work
we’re doing in class. You all, both individually and as a collective, embody a vast bank of
knowledge and experiences.

●​ Your professor, who will do all they can to assist you in succeeding in this course. Feel
free to make an appointment with them, or just talk before or after class. Email is a
reliable way to get in contact with them.

●​ The First Year Writing program website offers information about aspects of the program
such as the Exemplary Essay Awards, events, and other news:
[Link]
m/

●​ The Registrar offers information about adding, dropping, or withdrawing from a class:
[Link]

●​ The Center for Writing Excellence offers face-to-face and virtual writing consultations
with students at any stage of the writing process:
[Link]

●​ OIT (Office of Information Technology) provides help with Canvas and computer issues:
[Link]

●​ CAPS (Counseling and Psychological Services) offers short-term individual and group
counseling, including the “Let’s Talk” program that includes multiple weekly drop-in
sessions around campus:
[Link]

●​ The Dean of Students Office offers services and information that enables you to reach
your academic and personal goals: [Link]

●​ Owl at Purdue: The Online Writing Lab at Purdue University offers information on
MLA/APA style, grammatical questions, and other writing issues:
[Link]

●​ Center for Student Development offers support for Veteran students:

[Link]

●​ Both the Library and University Hall (5th Floor) offer laptop lending services:
[Link]
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●​ The Academic Success Center offers tutoring and workshops in several subject areas:
[Link]

●​ The LGBTQ Center sponsors workshops, events, and group meetings throughout the
semester: [Link]

●​ Tara Reinecker can answer advising questions for those students enrolled in athletics:
[Link]

●​ The Digital Archive of Literacy Narratives is a collection of thousands of literacy

narratives from people across the country. This collection could be helpful if your
professor assigns you to write a literacy narrative : [Link]