Best of Miami Portfolios 2001 - Units.muohio.edu

Miami University
Best of Portfolios 2001
Editor—Brenda Helmbrecht
Assistant Editor—Connie Kendall
Editorial Board—Meredith Love, Diana Royer,
Jeff Sommers, Michelle Wiener, Morris Young
Miami University
Department of English
Oxford, OH 45056
1

Contents
Acknowledgements 4
Introduction 5
Reflective Letter 7
Nicole DiNardo 9
Theresa Donofrio 11
Megan Malanchuk 13
Sarah Mandlehr 15
A Narrative or Short Story 17
Nicole DiNardo, “Beautiful Muddle 19
Andrew McKenzie, “A Different Religion” 21
Kristen Price, “My Hardest Test” 23
Dana Sinopoli, “A Price for Freedom: A P.O.W. Story” 25
An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay 27
Abby Olexa, “Sacrificing All to Save a Few” 28
Bethany Pierce, “The Heart of the Problem” 32
Kristen Price, “Art Department:
More Than Just Pretty Pictures” 34
Stephanie Wood, “Blaming Irresponsibility” 36
A Response to a Text 39
Jessica Keel, “Religion: Myth and Mistake in Native Son” 40
Brendan Klosterman, “Woman: Doll, Child, Slave” 43
Reynold Toepfer, “Discovering Truth” 45
Stephanie Wood, “Softly Spoken Strength” 48
Complete Portfolios 51
Scott Gruenbaum 52
Camilla Hileman 62
Pamela Spellman 70
2001 Scoring Guide for Portfolios 78
Characteristics of Effective Portfolios 78
Scoring Scale 79
Guidelines for Non-Sexist Language 80
Advice from Portfolio Scorers 82
Specific Suggestions for Improvement 83
Frequently Asked Questions 85
2002 Portfolio Submission Information 88
Portfolio Contents 89
Essential Instructions 90
Portfolio Information Form 91
Supervising Teachers 92
3

Acknowledgements
In 1990, Miami University became the first institution of higher learning to award students
college credit and advanced placement based on a collection of their best high school writing. Few
universities across the country present first-year students with the opportunity to receive advanced
credit by submitting a portfolio; Miami’s program is unique, and we hope you take advantage of it.
The Miami University Portfolio Writing Program was established by Laurel Black, Don
Daiker, Jeffrey Sommers, and Gail Stygall in order to value and encourage high school writing and
to provide a fairer way of evaluating it than the standard time placement examinations. The success
of the program owes much to the continuing support of Dianne Sadoff, Chair of the Department of
English, former Chair, C. Barry Chabot, and of College Composition Directors, Diana Royer,
Jennie Dautermann, Mary Fuller, John Heyda, Susan Jarratt, and Max Morenberg.
Five outstanding secondary English teachers helped create the portfolio program: Marilyn
Elzey of Talawanda High School in Oxford; D. J. Hammond of Madeira High School in Cincinnati;
John Kuehn of Kettering Fairmont High School; Ten Phillips of Mt. Healthy High School in
Cincinnati; and Doris Riddle of Norwood High School in Cincinnati. Other high school teachers
whose recommendations helped shape the program are Angela Brill of Mount Healthy High School;
Bob Dizney of Fairfield High School; Teresa McGowan of Hamilton High School; and Penni
Meyer and Sharon Rab of Kettering Fairmont High School.
The portfolio program has been supported by the Fund for the Improvement of
Postsecondary Education (FIPSE) of the U.S. Department of Education. Additional funding has
come from the Council of Writing Program Administrators (WPA), the Miami University College
for Arts and Science, the Miami University Center for the Study of Writing, the Ohio Writing
Project, and the Follett’s Miami Coop Bookstore.
For conducting the 2001 scoring session, we thank the Portfolio Coordinating Committee:
Brenda Helmbrecht, Connie Kendall, Meredith Love, Diana Royer, David Ramsey, Jeffrey
Sommers, and Michelle Wiener.
We also appreciate the work of our colleagues who read and evaluated the portfolios: Murial
Cunningham, Don Daiker, Todd Davis, Kim Dillon, Ellen Elder, Bill Fisher, Kate Francis, Patricia
Gibson, Cheryl Heckler-Feltz, Brenda Helmbrecht, Bethalee Jones, Christopher Jones, Christy
Karnes, Connie Kendall, Rodrigo Lazo, Chao Li, Meredith Love, Barbara McBrady, Dom Micer,
Jennifer Montani, David Ramsey, Paul Teasley, Sidelia Reyna, Amber Rife, Vida Robertson, Diana
Royer, Kellie Shepard, Kay Siebler, Jason Skipper, Jennifer Smith, Jeff Sommers, Melissa Summy,
Shevaun Watson, Sara Webb-Sunderhaus, and Michelle Wiener.
We are grateful for the assistance of the English Department secretaries: Jackie Kearns,
Kathy Fox, Debbie Morner, and especially Trudi Nixon.
Finally, we thank all of the dedicated high school English teachers who have given their
students the time, opportunity, and motivation to work on the various kinds of writing that a
portfolio requires. In both their reflective letters and personal correspondence, participating
students frequently share the appreciation they feel for these teachers whose classrooms have made
a difference in their lives as writers — and as people.
4

Introduction
Who is this girl awake late at night, fighting with the words? I am that very girl. I often
sit at my desk, well after my parents have gone to bed, and attempt to write. In my mind,
writing a beautiful piece is a true challenge. To be able to write eloquently and with such
passion that the work leaves the reader in awe is what I envision as the ultimate goal.
Lately, I have found myself questioning my ability to write powerfully, or even to write
well at all. I struggle with the words, pitting one against another, looking for the exact
array to capture emotion on paper. I wonder if my writing conveys anything to the reader.
Uncertain if my work “measures up” to the psychological standard I have set, I find
myself questioning: Is my work “good enough”?
Theresa Donofrio, Reflective Letter
As these lines from Theresa Donofrio’s Reflective Letter suggest, writing can sometimes
feel like a “struggle” as we search for beauty, eloquence, and power in our words. Theresa also
wonders if she is successful in her writing, if it “measures up,” if it is “good enough?” These are
doubts that writers often feel, especially when they feel they do not have the chance to fully
demonstrate their writing in a variety of ways. This is the goal of the Miami University Portfolio
Program—to provide incoming first-year students with the opportunity to demonstrate their skill
and depth as writers. While Miami University recognizes the value of writing instruction at the
college level, it also believes that there are students who are already writing at a very high level and
who can benefit from submitting a portfolio for credit. Over the last 10 years we have averaged
400-500 portfolios submitted for credit out of an entering first-year class of about 3000 students.
Of these 400-500 portfolios about half receive either 3 or 6 credits. While we encourage students
to submit a portfolio, we also have very high standards. The Best of Miami University’s Portfolios
2001 is meant to share with you outstanding work submitted last year as well as to assist you in
preparing a portfolio.
The creation of a writing portfolio is a process, where writers select pieces, revise their
writing, and think about how they compose this portfolio. We chose the following portfolios and
essays to appear in The Best of Miami University’s Portfolios 2001 because they reflect this process
of writing, where student writers have carefully thought out and revised their writing to articulate their
unique voices and style, as well as to address a specific audience and purpose. For example, in her
Reflective Letter, Nicole DiNardo creates an imaginary persona as a mime to describe what she has
included in her portfolio through “silent words.” In “A Different Religion,” Andrew McKenzie
challenges the reader with a satire of the world of computers. With force and insight in her essay,
“Sacrificing All to Save a Few,” Abby Olexa describes the controversy over school vouchers. And in
“Softly Spoken Strength,” Stephanie Wood is able to present a sustained and careful analysis of Janie
from Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. Complete portfolios by Scott
Gruenbaum, Camilla Hileman, and Pamela Spellman represent what we saw as overall excellence in
both the written work and the compiling of the portfolio. These, as well as the other entries in The
Best of Miami University’s Portfolios 2001, offer a myriad of approaches to writing.
5

The Best of Miami University’s Portfolios 2001 consists of three complete portfolios and
selections from fourteen others. A complete portfolio consists of four pieces: 1) a reflective letter
introducing the author and the portfolio; 2) a narrative or short story; 3) an explanatory, exploratory
or persuasive essay; and 4) a response to a text. Each section and complete portfolio is prefaced
with an introduction explaining why The Best of Miami University’s Portfolios Committee members
evaluated it so highly.
All portfolios are evaluated by at least two readers according to a six-point scoring scale:
the 2001 Scoring Guide is reprinted in the Appendix. A portfolio rated “very good” or “excellent”
(“5” or “6” on the scoring scale) earns six credits in college composition and completely fulfills the
university writing requirements. A portfolio rated “good” (“4” on the scoring scale) earns three
credits in college composition as well as advanced placement (ENG 113). A portfolio rated
“average” or lower (“3,” “2,” or “1” on the scoring scale) means the student will enroll for two
semesters of college composition.
While creating a portfolio is an added time investment, such an endeavor is a worthwhile
project not only for the opportunity to potentially earn college credit, but also for the experience
students gain from creating a portfolio, an activity they will most likely be required to do at some
point in their college career. Portfolios encourage authors to approach texts with an eye to revision,
and permit readers to experience the many facets of a particular author’s style of composition.
However, it should be noted that the entries presented here should not serve as templates or
“models” but rather as a challenge to future writers to employ dynamic styles of writing and to enter
into new areas of content.
Our intention in presenting these pieces is to encourage each and every writer—as we are
all writers—to produce and submit what he or she feels is his or her best work. In doing so, we
hope that your experience matches Sarah Mandlehr’s when she describes in her Reflective Letter
the process of writing and the process of becoming a writer: “I guess that I want it all; the
romanticism, the intellectual challenge and the traditions — these are the things that I write about.
I hope that when you read the three works that I have sent you that you can glimpse a little of the
person I am and envision the person I am becoming.”
Diana Royer
Acting Director of the Portfolio Program, 2001
Morris Young
Director of the Portfolio Program
6

Reflective Letter
The reflective letter, addressed to Miami University writing teachers, sets the tone for the
portfolio, introducing not only the writer but the individual pieces as well. Readers are
not expecting a narrative of your experiences and growth as a writer but, rather, evidence
of the critical reflection used in assembling and producing the portfolio. To that end, most
useful letters explicitly introduce the pieces and explain the purpose and audience for
each piece. Both creative and more traditional letters of introduction are acceptable.
As you begin assembling your portfolio, you might be thinking to yourself, “What will help
my ‘reflective letter’ of introduction become an interesting piece of prose?” The four reflective
letters included in this year’s Best of Miami University’s Portfolios collection will answer this very
smart and important question. What will become clear as you read these letters is the sense that
each author is able to express her ideas through a uniquely engaging, and thus inherently
“interesting,” writing style. While each reflective letter is mechanically flawless with respect to
Standard English spelling, punctuation, grammar and usage rules, the success of these four letters
is equally dependent upon each author’s ability to be somehow “present” in her writing. Kate
Ronald (1999) describes this sort of effective writing style as “writing where ‘somebody’s home,’
as opposed to writing that is technically correct but where there’s ‘nobody home,’ no life, no
voice”(171). Thus, as you revise your reflective letter for inclusion in your portfolio, try to write
in a style that reflects your presence in the text. In other words, try to be “at home” in your writing.
Nicole DiNardo is uniquely “at home” in her letter of reflection, introducing herself and the
contents of her portfolio by fictively creating a city scene in which she describes the reactions of
passers-by to the various themes in her writing. Nicole’s clever use of setting and description
demonstrates the ways in which the genre of letter writing can easily blend with conventions from
other genres, like fiction. Similarly, Theresa Donofrio’s presence manifests in her reflective letter
as she deftly plays with the convention of point of view. Theresa begins her letter in third-person
with a brief scenario of a girl struggling to write at her desk. When she asks, “Who is this girl
awake late at night, fighting with the words?” her answer (and the remainder of her reflective letter)
is written in the first-person point of view. Theresa’s use of rhetorical questions effectively guides
the reader through the specific contents of her portfolio and invites the reader to get to know the
writer behind the words. Megan Malanchuk’s letter of reflection opens with a playful description
of herself as a writer in her favorite “cherry-red-glow-in-the-dark” pajamas. Confessing that she
worries about her perfectionist tendency’s harmful influence on her writing, she artfully employs
the image of her “childish” pajamas to explain how she is able to overcome her fears by
remembering how much fun she has had while writing the selections for her portfolio. In an equally
engaging reflective letter, Sarah Mandlehr graciously describes herself as an authentic individual in
a diverse school of other authentic individuals. Sarah’s careful evaluation of her personal interests
and goals, especially as they are represented in her various pieces of writing, shows a facility with
language and a deeply reflective authorial presence in her letter.
7

All four of these reflective letters are offered here to show the wide range of options within
this genre that are available to student-writers. Certainly, these letters show that the four selected
authors are able to successfully complete the task of introducing themselves and the contents of
their portfolio. By employing a writing style that clearly shows the writer is “at home” in her text,
each author also makes apparent the critical reflection that is required in this letter of introduction.
For more examples of effective reflective letters, read the letters included in the Complete
Portfolio Section of this edited collection.
Works Cited
Ronald, Kate. “Style: The Hidden Agenda in Composition Classes or One Reader’s Confession.”
The Subject is Writing. Ed. Wendy Bishop. Portsmouth, NH: Boynton/Cook, 1999.
169-183.
8

Reflective Letter—Nicole DiNardo
Dear Miami University Writing Professors,
It’s high noon and you are rummaging through a fanny pack for Kodak film. Saliva dribbles
off your chin as you eye the mustard yellow chili dog stand up ahead at West 15th. On your left, a
bohemian hunk sidesteps the chewing gum kaleidoscope at his feet as he spits his tasteless-afterfifteen-minutes-spearmint
gum onto the sunburnt asphalt. Your hot dog preoccupation stifles you
from noticing me. But my mute eyes watch on. While I watch, I hear people say that I’m quiet.
So I thought I’d take on the role of a mime to show you, an unassuming tourist, who I truly am
through my silent words. Although I cannot speak to you, I can attempt to recreate my experiences
for you and illustrate to you why I write.
Writing itself is exhausting. But for every moment I’ve spent stalling time in the bathroom
at lunch, for every forkful of homemade cavetelli I’ve eaten at Poppa’s house, for every stranger’s
eyes I’ve stared into from a bus window, and for every urgent prayer whispered to God at night, I
must write. Just as I must be exhausted to fully sleep, I must write to fully live.
As I present “Beautiful Muddle” to you, my flirtatious smile captures your curiosity away
from your bag of cinnamon pecans. In this piece, you will hear my candid voice portrayed through
different images of beauty. This work initially ran as a column for my school newspaper on the
mind mirage of self-image, but I used the original introduction and transformed the detached
commentary into a narrative of my personal battles with appearance and perfection. Although the
frivolities of prom are petty, the universal struggle for identity is a timeless ache that must be dealt
with and fulfilled. As I wrote about my experience, I chose my words carefully, emphasizing
sensual diction as a way of portraying the superficiality of outward beauty.
My next selection, “On Being Cruel for Posh’s Sake,” unsettles the woman on your right as
she guiltily glances down at her mink coat. This gruesome depiction of animal cruelty in the fur
industry is my plea for society to buy faux fur rather than to indulge in an expensive luxury that
harms innocent creatures. Although I’ve been a vegetarian for four years, I still purchase clothing
products made from animals. A friend of mine questioned my logic and encouraged me to research
animal cruelty beyond the meat industry. My discoveries led to this persuasive essay that examines
another aspect of the destruction caused by our society’s base definition of beauty.
As you groove to the African beat of the drummers on the street corner, my final selection,
“The Lion and the Lamb,” transports you to people who have been oppressed by Apartheid in South
Africa. This piece is an analysis of Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton and explores Paton’s
message that ideal justice is beyond direct human experience. This piece is important to me as my
response reveals my deep faith in God—the root from which all my other beliefs stem. It is to Him
that I attribute the hope Africa has in the midst of suffering, as well as the hope I have in the midst
of my struggle for true identity.
9

Your gurgling stomach now seems less urgent as you notice the Jimi-Hendrix-dreadlocks
dream on your right wink at an hourglass figure woman wearing electric leather boots clip, clippity,
clapping by. And you appreciate my silent endeavor to capture images and instill in yourself and
others an awareness of life. For this is the reason I write.
Sincerely,
A New Miami Student
10

Reflective Letter—Theresa Donofrio
Dear Miami University Writing Professors,
“Why can’t I think of anything to write?” she thought. She shifted her gaze yet again from
the artificial light of her desk lamp to the window. Often, she would amaze herself at how much
time she had spent staring out that window, not particularly looking at anything or thinking about
anything, but giving her thoughts the freedom to wander, desperately hoping they would land upon
“a good idea.” She sighed and returned her attention to the desk in front of her. Shrouded in
darkness outside of the area lit by the desk lamp, she focused on the blank white paper before her
and tapped her blue pen on her desk. For her, writing is an internal struggle.
Who is this girl awake late at night, fighting with the words? I am that very girl. I often sit
at my desk, well after my parents have gone to bed, and attempt to write. In my mind, writing a
beautiful piece is a true challenge. To be able to write eloquently and with such passion that the
work leaves the reader in awe is what I envision as the ultimate goal. Lately, I have found myself
questioning my ability to write powerfully, or even to write well at all. I struggle with the words,
pitting one against another, looking for the exact array to capture emotion on paper. I wonder if my
writing conveys anything to the reader. Uncertain if my work “measures up” to the psychological
standard I have set, I find myself questioning: Is my work “good enough”?
Can I write with the power needed to make a reader stop and reflect upon our society?
“Hope” is a short story written with a specific purpose. Strongly influenced by the lives of my two
closest friends (who lived much like the character Hope), the story is meant to be an allegorical look
at society, its ideals, and the pressures of conformity. For what looks like a light-hearted story about
high school life, “Hope” ends with grim realizations regarding both perception and the
consequences of attempting to live the “perfect” life.
Can I write to persuade? While gene patenting may be an issue not yet made familiar to the
public, in upcoming years this hot topic will have a profound effect on biotechnology. Forced to
research this issue in order to compete in a science and social issues symposium, the information I
discovered destroyed my predisposition against gene patenting. I can only hope that with my third
piece, “The carrot at the end of the biotechnological stick,” I can convince others of the benefits
that gene patenting has to offer the scientific community, the economy, and society.
Am I capable of analyzing the author’s use of point of view? My fourth piece, “Through
the eyes of vermin: Kafka’s use of point of view,” was written to explore Franz Kafka’s purpose in
using third person omniscient in The Metamorphosis. Through the exploration of perceptual
differences between Gregor Samsa’s view of his sister and reality, my fourth piece states that
Kafka’s choice of point of view serves to underscore Gregor’s delusion as well as to provide for the
ironic tone of the conclusion. I hope such an essay offers an interesting theory for any reader
familiar with The Metamorphosis.
How do I answer these questions? Sometimes, I never do. Sometimes there is that lingering
doubt over whether I have truly written well, or if my writing is little more than a sequence of letters
and spaces strategically spaced on a page. When I am able to overcome that doubt, when I am
confident in my work, it is because that piece comes from the soul. I am finally realizing that good
writing cannot be sterilely manufactured to impress some distant audience. To write well, I think,
11

one must prohibit the words from being censored by the brain and allow them to flow from the
heart. I strive to reach that point, when the doubt will recede and the questions will stop. For now,
I have answered my own questions to the best of my ability. I will return to my desk having sent
off my portfolio, knowing this struggle with the words is over and awaiting the next. As you now
read these words, written by a distant girl, the questions are yours. It is now up to you: What will
you make of her?
The girl at the desk
12

Reflective Letter—Megan Malanchuk
Dear Miami University Writing Teachers,
I have this great pair of pajamas that I got for Christmas. Of course, it’s my only real set of
pajamas since most of my other sleep clothes are worn, faded t-shirts, sweatpants, and hideous
hand-me-downs from my older sister. This one and only sleep “outfit” includes a pair of oversized
drawstring pants that make a delightful “fffp, fffp, fffp” sound as they drag across the tile in our
front hallway. The shirt is like a swimming pool: shapeless and awkward, it drapes from my
shoulders like a beach towel on a toddler. Cute. These aren’t necessarily the greatest pajamas in
the world; however, THEY GLOW IN THE DARK! Cherry red with sprinklings of white stars, my
pajamas shine, shimmer, sparkle, and glimmer. Not only do these PJs supply endless-dancing-infront-of-the-mirror-in-the-dark-kinda-fun,
but they are a reminder to the too serious, overly
diligent, big grown-up in me, that in the end, fun is all that really matters.
Occasionally my best friend, Desiarae, (with whom I dance in the dark in front of the
mirror) will inform me that I am awfully “overdramatic, oversensitive, and overemotional,” which
fortunately and unfortunately carries over into my writing. I desperately adore adjectives and
because I love words so much, I sometimes cannot determine when and where to stop in my
writing. Most times, I have trouble putting on paper exactly what is in my head, but somehow,
when I am finished, it always makes sense to me.
As the source of and solution to my pain, writing is simultaneously my toughest opponent
and my favorite companion. I remember when writing was simple, enjoyable fun and not grammar,
mechanics, clarity, diction, organization, syntax, voice, style, purpose. Writing is a perfectionist’s
worst nightmare. (It would most likely be my worst nightmare if I could get more than a few hours
of desperate sleep each night.) I might blame my perfectionism on my mom or my dad, but it’s
most certainly not their fault. Frankly, they are too sweet to be at any fault. Somewhere along the
way, I snatched up a huge collection of ideals for myself and grew into the exceedingly ambitious
individual that I am. I love my childish, cherry, red, glow-in-the-dark pajamas in which I watch
Saturday morning cartoons, but that doesn’t mean I don’t work hard… very hard. Rightfully, I am
proud and disturbed by my writing and my points of weakness. I seek perfection in my writing,
and the fact that “perfection” is implicitly unfeasible only feeds my incentives. Nonetheless, in the
end, those feelings of annoyance and frustration with my writing are meaningless in comparison to
my process…
My computer buzzes, warm like a toaster. And I huddle in front of it, cuddling time with
the sizzling machine. Sucking the warmth through my fingertips. It is 2:00 AM. I
snuggle deep within my cherry red pajamas and smile. Big, white teeth everywhere. A
movie-star-grin with Kim Bassinger lips. Tap, tap, tap. And then, the weary keys rest in
partial silence. Following is a sigh of contentment as I sit back and marvel at perfection.
For a nanosecond I am amazed with my own achievement and then, as though the feeling
had never even touched the tips of my fingers, it has slipped through my grasp and I
despise the piece before me. I see the disorder, the flaws, all so clearly and with arrant
disappointment. I sigh again, this time with the whole exhaustion of an incessant
insomniac. Tap, tap, tap, again.
13

And as the result of many enjoyably sleepless nights in front of my buzzing computer
screen, I have produced a portfolio that has awakened within me a new outlook on writing: it is fun!
A quote that I live by explains, “We are the authors of our own lives.” Besides the silly, cherry-redglow-in-the-dark-pajama-wearing,
cartoon-watching girl that I am, I am a busy woman with a life
that is so full, I sometimes marvel at the idea that one day I might just write a book about it. And
so I begin my portfolio with a piece about me! my life, the way that I think and live. Overflowing
with adjectives and a voice that I have failed to hear in many of my school-assigned writings, this
is a narrative/descriptive piece that I cannot read without cracking my (Kim Bassinger-lipped)
smile. After all, it is my life.
My explanatory essay, “Perfect Love,” is one of the more thought-provoking essays I have
chosen to write. I chose to analyze two poems that I found intriguing; however, these poems do not
reflect my personal opinions and so producing this essay was a challenge. It was planned out and
organized on note cards, scratch paper, and took up space in notebooks designated for other classes.
I spent hours upon hours in front of my buzzing computer, wearing my favorite pajamas, while
working out sentence structures, thumbing through my tattered thesaurus, and struggling to tie
together my scattered thoughts and ideas. In calculus class, I probably pondered “perfect love” and
what Robert Frost and Paul Laurence Dunbar had to say about it. For a few days, the concepts of
this essay encompassed my mind. This is unquestionably one of my many “process pieces” and
illustrates the extensive preparation that goes into my writing and ultimately helps me to produce a
successful composition.
My final portfolio piece, “Devoured By Love,” is a research paper based on Hamlet about
Ophelia and love. This was the final writing assignment in my World Literature 12 class. Not only
does this responsive essay represent my formal writing abilities (which may be interpreted as notso-risky),
it also illustrates that despite instruction and years of being told exactly what to write
in each paragraph and sentence, I have benefited from my “overdramatic, oversensitive, and
overemotional” inclinations. I am very proud of this piece as a formal and emotional work.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some laundry to do… my cherry red glow-in-the-dark
pajamas are missing me.
Sincerely,
A very excited first-year Miami student
14

Reflective Letter—Sarah Mandlehr
A group of girls with perfectly primped hair and flawless make-up turn a rosy pink as the
senior football players stroll down the hallway. Four soccer players kick a flat ball stolen from the
P.E. locker room. The cast of Kizmet Arabian Nights, still in theatrical make-up, laughs and shows
off the new dance moves they just learned in theater class. A cluster of African-American boys
huddle around a garbage can making sounds that are Stomp worthy as two beautiful girls hum and
move to their music. Some kids wear clothes that look like a mixture of my grandpa’s wardrobe
and Salvation Army castoffs. A cluster of girls, with the bronze skin and satin hair of Korea, race
to class and pass two guys “posted up” on their lockers trying to act cool for the cheerleaders.
Next to them are a couple of students struggling to finish a trigonometry problem. Different races,
cultures, ethnic backgrounds, interests, and religions with one thing in common — they are all
smart. This is my high school. This is not me.
I come from a white, Catholic, middle-class, two-parent family. It was too easy for me to
stay in my safe and sheltered world and I knew that to grow as a person I had to choose a new
environment. I chose to sit in classes with brilliant students from all around the world who have
often taught me more than my teachers. Our class discussions have stimulated my mind, and I
haven’t been allowed to just sit back and listen anymore. I began to question things and look for
answers on my own without them being handed to me. My peers have had such different
experiences in life from mine, and they have opened me up to a whole new spectrum of thinking.
It was in writing my first piece, “Family Dinners,” that I realized how different the world was from
my upbringing.
“Family Dinners” is a narrative on my favorite family tradition, a tradition that I found not
everyone had the luxury of experiencing. Until I was a freshman in high school, I was of the firm
belief that all families sat down together every night around six-thirty for dinner. All of my
Catholic grade school friends followed this pattern, so why not the rest of the world? I can still
hear in my head the discussion held in my freshman English class with Mr. Peacock when I was
first exposed to the harsh realities of many kids’ home lives. Stories of deceased parents, poverty,
abuse and neglect horrified me as these teenagers, just like myself, opened up their world for
everyone to hear. I didn’t say a word that day. I was stunned that so many of these brilliant
students endured such hardships. These students taught me more about the world than I will ever
learn from a textbook. In realizing how lucky I was to enjoy this traditional family dinner, I
decided to put it on paper so I could reflect on it whenever I was feeling greedy and remember what
I have that many others aren’t as fortunate to experience.
While sitting in my AP Government and Politics class, I found myself struggling to keep up
because of my own inhibitions. Toward the end of the year it was somewhat intimidating to
participate in discussions with students who had already been accepted to Harvard, Yale, Stanford,
MIT, and Princeton. I questioned my worthiness to speak out and defend my point of view on
topics such as gun control, homosexuality, abortion, and one of our favorites, George W. Bush. I
wanted to prove my intelligence more and more with every topic that was brought up, but
acceptance was important to me and I was afraid that I would be shot down by one of the “Ivies.”
An assignment was given to write a persuasive essay on whether or not we thought the Constitution
15

would remain viable in the new millennium. Most of the students were overly excited because
these papers would be submitted to a contest and the prize was an all-expenses-paid, week-long trip
to Washington D.C. where you would sit in on Congressional meetings to get an inside look on how
our government worked. I wrote my paper with no real expectations of winning. After all, look at
my competition. I thought my piece turned out well because it displayed my point of view, no
interruptions, no one questioning my thoughts, no one eager to get in the last word. This paper
“Will the Constitution Remain Viable in the New Millennium?” restored my confidence. I won the
trip to Washington - - the runner up will be attending Harvard in the fall.
The Romantic poets have always caught my attention. I am not interested so much because
of my love of their poetry, but rather because I envy the total bliss shown in their work. Always
talking about the sunrise, the nightingale, and the daffodil makes me think that they lived in some
sort of a Utopia. I appreciate the innocence and gentility that the Romantic poets exhibited in their
work even if it isn’t at all “realistic.” My essay, “Characteristics Used in Romantic Poetry,” takes
a look into the world of William Blake, John Keats, and Percy Shelley, fantasy and all. I can relate
to this because, in a sense, I also live in a fantasy world. I would much rather watch “Full House,”
where people think morally, than “Melrose Place,” where people think sexually. I still think that
men should stand when a woman leaves the table to use the restroom and that they should always
offer their seat to a woman without one, even though my father and grandfather are the only people
I know who still do this. I guess that I want it all; the romanticism, the intellectual challenge and
the traditions — these are the things that I write about. I hope that when you read the three works
that I have sent you that you can glimpse a little of the person I am and envision the person
I am becoming.
16

A Narrative or Short Story
This piece can be based on personal experience as a non-fiction narrative or can be a
short work of fiction. Its aim is to communicate the significance of an experience or event
through description, dialogue, and/or narration. Put another way, successful pieces show
rather than tell. The writing can be personal and informal. This narrative or short story
should have a title.
Each of the narratives published here illustrates qualities that our readers were drawn to in
reading the narratives and short stories students submitted. As a group, they demonstrate a variety
of ways that authors can successfully and creatively write in this genre.
Anyone who has ever attended a high school prom will recognize the events described in
Nicole DiNardo’s “Beautiful Muddle.” Her narrative is more of a description than a story, but it
comes alive through its adroit use of specific detail and its amused tone as Nicole takes a long, hard
look at the prom and at herself. While the events of the narrative are the small ones of everyday
life, the writing brings such intense life to the narrator’s experience through the use of realistic
dialogue and recognizable emotions that readers’ interest remains high throughout, right up to the
narrative’s satisfying resolution.
Andrew McKenzie’s “A Different Religion” memorably employs a mock-heroic style to tell
his story of another familiar and ordinary encounter. His story amuses us as the protagonist reveals
just how important these events are to him through the use of exaggerated and inflated language.
While we read, we also realize that the story’s protagonist is an expert on the subject of his
“religion,” and we are informed as we read, as well as entertained. In this unorthodox way,
Andrew has found a lively strategy to present some strongly held opinions through story-telling,
making his narrative one to remember.
In “My Hardest Test,” Kristen Price shows readers a meaningful experience in her life,
using dialogue and interior monologue to great effect. Her narrative takes a traditional approach—
beginning at the start and working straight through to the climax—but does so with great efficiency
and skill. Note how the story plunges us into the events immediately, and how Kristen uses surprise
to keep readers attentive until the very end when they finally learn the significance of the events
and the title.
Unlike the other writers, Dana Sinopoli does not narrate a story about a modern teenager’s
familiar experience. Instead, “Price for Freedom: A POW Story” takes readers back in history to
bring readers the life of a teenager caught up in a terrible war. The narrative compels readers to
feel as if they were experiencing the events themselves through the startling use of second person,
a risky approach for a writer as readers often resist being positioned as a protagonist. However,
Dana brings history to life by using present tense to weave facts and feelings into the story, relying
upon an expert source for the historical information. And the narrative eventually wins us over,
convincing us that using second person writing to tell this story is indeed the best way to make its
point.
There is no formula to writing an effective narrative. These four examples differ from one
another in tone, structure, purpose, and style, and no single story or descriptive essay will contain
17

all of the qualities represented in these examples. However, the authors whose works we have
included use the particular elements described above very effectively and with finesse.
For more examples of essays in this genre, read the Complete Portfolios included in this
collection.
18

A Short Story or Narrative—Nicole DiNardo
Beautiful Muddle
Sometimes, when I lie on my back in the solitude of my room and the carpet bristles my
skin, the ridges in the ceiling spread like daddy-long-legs in port-o-potties. Sometimes, when I lie
in bed in the hush of the night and the moon is precisely angled outside my window, the global light
streaks across my pillowcase like tadpoles in silver ponds. Sometimes, when my mind wanders…
I’m fearless and flawless.
And sometimes, at these dreamy times, I am not an eighteen-year-old prom junkie standing
in the middle of my floor, facing my mirror, and whispering to the butter-fairies in my stomach to
buzz someplace else. I am not spending thirty agonizing minutes shaping one frizzed curl with half
a bottle of Green Tea Styling Gel or obsessing over which shade of plum lip gloss best accents my
eyes. I am not, as my ex-boyfriend used to say, “acting like a girl.”
Instead, I am already twirling on the dance floor, my auburn-fried hair bouncing with
charming confidence as I transcend all muddied doubts of myself. I am effortlessly and naturally
beautiful. I am—
“Don’t forget to pluck the hair from between your eyebrows,” my mom’s brassy voice of
reality plummets me back to my Mary-Kay dungeon of anxiety.
“Mom, pl-ea-se stop. I do not need you telling me what to do.” I innocently crank up the
volume two notches on my stereo in hope that River Cuomo’s electric guitar can silence her
motherly concerns and rattle away my “I don’t want to go anymores.” While the beat vibrates and
I lather my legs with freshly scented cucumber lotion, I begin to sway with forced excitement. “I’m
going to have fun tonight,” I tell my stuffed dog, Douglass. But his vacant eyes seem as convinced
as my crackling voice. However, when I slip into my olive chenille dress and brush my hands down
the velvety material, I am contentedly satisfied. Turning sideways and forward and sideways again
in front of the mirror above my dresser, I hunt for flaws, but my dress, an exact fit, complements
my figure.
Yet just when my jitters begin to fizzle away, my mom hollers from the bottom of the stairs,
“Nicole, did you remember to put mints in your purse?”
I don’t respond. Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone.
“Nicole, did you—
“Yes, mother. I filled the gray box with wintergreen Altoids ten minutes ago,” I croon
sarcastically while gracefully stomping down the steps in my bronze high heels. Well, I wouldn’t
quite call them high heels. I didn’t want to tower over my date.
“You look gorgeous,” my mom breathes as I approach the last step. Intently searching her
eyes, I recognize her sincere love, and my muscles immediately relax. She is impossible to stay
angry at for an extended amount of time. I ask a mental prayer of forgiveness—she never deserves
the venom of my frustrations. My younger brother breezes by us with an amused, self-assured
smirk, his silver bracelet tinkling as he flips a sports coat over his shoulders.
I open the refrigerator and pull out the standard cream-colored boutonniere from Dandy’s
Flowers and turn to practice pinning the roses on my brother’s lapel. My mom has always done the
19

honors for past dances, but I figure this is my senior year. I should know how to pin a boutonniere.
“Wait, does it go on the left or the right?” I ask.
My brother tenderly shakes his head, “The left.” Right. I knew that. My fingers twiddle
with the pin and grope with the bunching material, but after a few eternal seconds the task is
completed, and I feel prepared for anything. The doorbell rings. Well, maybe not everything.
Okay, Lord. Please don’t let my cheeks look like two flaming flamingos, don’t let my voice sound
like a frozen frog, don’t let—
“Oh, hi, Samantha, Mark. Come on in. Matt’s not here yet.” Mark strides into the kitchen,
chomping on a bag of barbecue potato chips while Samantha’s gold metallic dress glistens against
her bronzed skin as they make their boisterous entrance. Immediately, a whirl of grandparents,
aunts, and siblings start clicking and flashing their cameras while the three of us pose with plastered
smiles. The red letters on our radio clock read 6:15 and instead of fretting over Matt’s whereabouts,
I begin to ease into disillusioned clouds, once again nimbly looping across the dance floor twinklewinking
at my peers as they stand gaping around me.
“Matt’s here,” my dad booms from the other room. “He’s walking down the street. Looks
like he had to park a few houses down.” Subconsciously I poof my hair, smooth down my dress,
and hold my breath as I wander to the door. My 110-pound Golden Retriever barrels excitedly
into my side, beating me as always to a formal greeting. As I open the door, I putter and avoid
Matt’s intense gray eyes, afraid mine will link with his and melt my gelatin-composure. But I
understand his smile. You look amazing too, I think.
The kitchen is awkwardly silent while 14 pairs of eyes watch Matt slide on my wrist
corsage. I try not to stare at his trembling hands. My own fingers are uncannily still as I expertly
weave the needle through the stem and onto his sharp black jacket. We stiffly endure more creative
photographs on the deck, the stairway, and the front porch. I don’t relax until we slide into the white
leather backseat of Mark’s uncle’s Cadillac.
We careen around the corner, and Samantha rolls down her window, lights a cigarette, and
exclaims, “Holy pictures. Get together you two—this is my idea of pictures.” We scoot as close
together as my seatbelt will allow. I notice that despite Samantha’s elegant hair twist and being
seated in a fancy car, she appears to be everything but the envy of the school as she rummages
through her clunky purse for her cell phone, reeking of stale tobacco. And as she puffs smoke
through her matted ruby lips, I glance at Matt. He captures my eyes and instead of my composure
melting, it’s my Cinderella fantasy that dissolves.
In this moment, as the sun bounces like a fireball off our windshield and crackles against
headlights, the air dissociates into molecules of barely breathable oxygen. In this moment, I may
not be hip. In the moments to come, darkness may envelop our forms and my moss eye-shadow
and “Barely There” foundation may fade like lifeless clowns booed out of the circus ring. In the
moments to come, I may not dance like Janet Jackson.
No, in this moment, I am still an eighteen-year-old prom junkie. Although my glittering
fantasies of popularity and beauty may sometimes threaten my happiness, I know who I am. I do not
need to prove myself with a cigarette, a rowdy mouth, or a provocative dance. And when the
dandelions become a golden blur in my window, I feel their secret whisper through my soul. I am
beautiful.
20

A Short Story or Narrative— Andrew McKenzie
A Different Religion
He was dressed professionally, wearing a suit, tie, and dark black overcoat. His glasses
falsely spelled “nerd.” He was short, or at least shorter than I. I’d say he was in his late thirties,
but who knows? I returned to Star Wars Racer, a video game based on the movie Star Wars:
Episode One, released the previous year. Tatooine was easy enough, so I decided to move on to a
more difficult racetrack. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man approach me.
He walked straight for me, no doubt about it. I tried to act calmly but couldn’t restrain my
heart’s rapid beating. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead, glanced to my left flank. Is he
coming to speak with me? I wondered. He had to be. I prepped myself mentally for what he would
say. Time slowed to a crawl. I should have brought along the Book. I needed something to help
me lead him down the right path. Every devout follower has his chance, and this would be mine.
I reviewed the basic steps to salvation but was interrupted by his voice.
“So,” he started, “Do you use a Mac?”
Do I use a Mac?! What’d this guy take me for, some kind of pee-cee lamebrain? I fought
off the temptation to respond with a forceful, “Of course, you idiot!” and calmly replied, “Yes, I
do.” Then, the smile dropped from my face as I realized that he didn’t look assured. So quickly I
added, “I have all my life.” But was that enough? I must convince him to stray from his ways of
evil and darkness.
He glanced at the computer before me, then back to my face. “Do you like ‘em?”
Again, I felt rage and thoughts of violence rise to my head. Do I like them? Do I like Macs?
DO I LIKE MACS? But I remembered that I must portray an example of a kind-hearted Apple
zealot, so I answered with a smile, “Yes, I like them. I think they’re great.”
He still looked unsure of anything. Then he hit me with a killer. It was the golden question;
it was the signal for me to tell him the way to be saved. “Do you think Macs are better than PCs?”
I smiled, took a deep breath, and rested my hand on the Apple Studio Display next to me.
Then I transformed into the Mac Evangelist. I felt my muscles bulge and my body rise to full
height. Clad in a black suit with a rainbow cape, I was off to save a lost soul!
Then I blanked. Where should I start? Apple’s beginnings, in Steve Jobs’ garage? Or John
Sculley’s resignation from Pepsi-Cola to join Apple? Or, perhaps, the Macintosh project? Then
again, the release of System 7 was another good issue. Of course, I could go for an Upton Sinclairstyle
muckraking speech, portraying the values and integrity of Apple versus the corruption of the
“Wintel” demons. I then realized that the lost sheep was waiting.
“I definitely think Macs are better than PCs. They’ve got superior hardware, just-as-good
or better software, and are far more reliable. I’ve used Macs for eight years and have always been
happy with Apple.” I paused, preparing “convert-a-PC-user” arguments. I dreamed of the masses
packed into the Apple section of CompUSA, listening to me spread the good news. I envisioned
Steve Jobs commending me at MacWorld-New York for my efforts and converting thousands of
PC users to the light side of the Force. Then I returned to my sermon. “Macs have consistently
been faster, more reliable, stronger, easier to use, and cooler than PCs. For instance, the processor
21

in this Mac (I pointed to the PowerMac next to me) is far superior to any Pentium IV,” I said with
an aura of “in-case-you-didn’t-know.” “And this Mac can do far more, too.” I was moving my
troops in for the attack. “This Mac has much better hardware than any PC over there (I pointed to
the PC side of the store) and is easier to use. For instance, Mac OS 9 is far simpler, yet is much
more powerful. And the hardware on this machine is the same: better, more reliable, and easier to
install and use.”
I felt like throwing in a few of the thousands of Mac facts I’d memorized for an occasion
such as this, but, after seeing the man’s blank eyes, I decided to slow down. I’d let him ask a
question.
“But isn’t there a lot less software for the Mac than for a PC?” he asked, looking at the bare
desktop of the Mac beside us.
Aha! I thought. He’s hitting me at my weakest (though not very weak) point. I gestured to
the wall filled with colorful Mac software boxes. “There are rumors about the amount of software
for the Mac, but don’t believe any of those unknowledgeable PC salesmen. There are over 11,500
software titles for the Mac, including most major PC programs. And if a PC program doesn’t have
a Mac version, there’s usually another Mac program that will suit your needs. I assure you that
software is plentiful for the Mac. There are many people out there who try to discredit Apple, but
they’re unsuccessful. That’s because Mac users know their machines are better. There is no doubt
in my mind that if you buy a Mac, you’ll be a hundred times happier with it than any PC.”
I was unsure if my oration had worked. The man seemed a bit bewildered but
thanked me for my time. As he began to walk off, I felt my heart drop. I had failed as a zealot!
But then, as if a response from God, the man took a sharp turn and started experimenting with
another Mac. I felt my heart leap as Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus” began in my ears. I jumped,
raised my fist into the air, then glanced around for spectators. As my Mac Evangelist suit morphed
into my civilian clothes, I turned back to video games. But then I glanced at my watch. I turned
west, toward 999 Infinity Lane, Cupertino, California, home of Apple Computer, and lowered to the
ground. It was time to pray.
22

A Narrative or Short Story—Kristen Price
My Hardest Test
I stared down at my hands, trying to control the shaking. My breathing came out slowly, if
it came out at all. I felt like bursting into tears. I stared at the boards in front of me. My head was
spinning, and my mind was racing. I couldn’t believe I had missed that break.
I had practiced this break time and time again. It was my best break of all. Normally, my
foot went through the board like a hot knife through butter. I could break double boards with that
sidekick and not blink an eye or break a sweat. But now—now that everything was on the line, my
foot jammed the board long before it should have penetrated.
My hands were still shaking furiously. I jumped from foot to foot, trying to shake off the
first two misses. Two misses. Two out of three possible chances wasted. The third chance was do
or die. No break, no black belt.
Normally I was a star student. My instructor even called me a bragging right. What was
happening to me? Why couldn’t I make this break?
“Face me,” Mr. Haungs demanded.
“Yes, sir.” Tears were beginning to well in my eyes.
“Listen carefully,” he began to talk. I felt a hundred pairs of eyes on me, but as he stared at
me and forced me to focus on what he was saying, the crowd began to disappear. I could only hear
what I was being told. It was the only thing that mattered now. “If you break this, you pass. You
become a black belt. If you miss, you are nothing more than you were yesterday. You may come
back to try in three months, but that’s not you. You don’t need to come back a second time. You
have never failed before. Don’t start now. Now, ask-”
Before he could finish, I was at attention, and broke in, “Permission to break my board, sir!”
“Are you going to break it?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir!”
“Louder!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Break that board!”
In one swift move, I threw everything I had at that board, every last drop of anything that
I had.
And my foot stopped—again.
I stared at the board in disbelief. I knew the crowd was staring at me exactly the same way.
I even heard my mom gasp. I know I did. My board holder handed me back my board, fully intact.
I accepted his hesitant offering in a daze. With a clouded head, I silently took my seat at the back
of the room with all of the other candidates. I felt soft pats on the back and heard whispers in my
ear: “It’ll be okay, honey. You’ll get it next time.”
All that I could manage in response was a quick glance, a forced half-smile, or a simple nod.
I knew that I couldn’t speak. If I opened my mouth, all that would come out would be sobs. Even
if I didn’t have my rank, I still had my pride, and I absolutely refused to let my classmates and my
students see me cry.
23

There was only one person in the world that was allowed to see my tears that day, and as
soon as we hit the parking lot and my mom put her arm around me, the flood could not be dammed.
I cried until there wasn’t a single tear left, and then I cried some more. I didn’t know what to do.
As long as I had been taking karate at that school, I had never failed so miserably. I didn’t want to
accept it.
But, as it often did with many bad feelings, a big cone of Graeter’s double chocolate chip
ice cream helped to heal my sorrow, and from there I just had to suck it up.
Two weeks later was even harder. It was the rank ceremonies for the people who passed on
to the next level, and, unlike me, actually earned a new belt. Usually if students failed, they were
too embarrassed to go to the ceremony. I knew the feeling as I walked through the doors of the
school. In a room full of uniformed students, I was the only student there that blended in with the
audience. I went wearing my everyday street clothes. I had no need for my uniform that night.
All of my friends came up to me and hugged me as I walked in the door. My friend Ronnie
pulled me off to the side, putting a cotton-clad arm around me. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?”
I nodded quickly and gave him a half smile.
Mr. Haungs called all of the students to the floor. As they hurried to their places on the
workout floor, I slowly took my seat on one of the sideline benches. So far, Mr. Haungs had not
even acknowledged my presence at the ceremonies. I sat and watched and clapped for my friends
and classmates. I even cheered for a couple of them. Each time that I cheered for someone, I felt
a little bit better. I felt that cheering for everybody else helped me get over my embarrassment.
Mr. Haungs announced all of the ranks in order from lowest ranks to highest so that he
ended with the black belts. The last black belt stood and was honored in front of the entire room.
Everyone sat smiling, ecstatic about their new ranks, waiting to be dismissed from the ceremonies.
Suddenly, Mr. Haungs cleared his throat. He looked out at the class and began to speak. What he
said though surprised everyone, especially me.
“I want to you to look to your right,” he instructed his class, and thrust his arm in my
direction. I flushed bright red. “I want you to look at her. Everyone here saw her at testing, and
everyone here saw her fail. It is always hard to fail a testing, but to have the guts and the courage
to come and watch everyone who passed when she didn’t, that is impressive. That is true black belt
character. I hope everyone comes to watch and cheer for her at the next testing.”
I wanted to cry again but not out of shame this time. My eyes had tears brimming, and I
could barely tell him “Thank you.” I knew then that I had passed the hardest test I had ever taken.
24

A Narrative or Short Story— Dana Sinopoli
Price for Freedom: A POW Story
I want you to close your eyes for a moment and try to imagine being 19. Now imagine
being pulled away from your family, your friends, and your home, and placed into hell with nothing
but a gun and a prayer. You are a soldier in 1944, fighting in one of the most gruesome and pitiless
wars of all time: World War II.
It is December 15, 1944. Your company of 250 men, the farthest division advanced in
Germany, has just captured Kesternich. Early dawn of the very next day, the town is lit up by large
klieg lights as an entire tank division comes pouring into the town. The rumble of machines shakes
the ground beneath you and creates a sound so powerful that it seems as though the Earth is splitting
into two.
You are in the basement of a small house when a tank stops right outside the window. The
.88 gun of the Panzer tank points directly at the window, forcing you and a handful of other terrified
soldiers to surrender. At this point, there are only 50 of you left.
Barely able to walk, being so weighed down with fear, you are all marched to a school house
and lined up by a German Prisoner of War lieutenant. This man, for whom you feel nothing but
hatred, walks up and down the line of men, and out of everyone else, points to you. The lieutenant
accuses you of having shot German prisoners. You are pulled out of the line and taken by truck to
Bonn Prison Camp.
You are still only 19 years old and instead of running around a college campus, you are put
in solitary confinement. The cell is smaller than a closet and has only one tiny door. You have no
overcoat and nothing to shield you from the cold. You see no one for six weeks and your only
nutritional in-take consists of Ersatz bread. Because the Germans do not have enough wheat, they
mix wood chips in with the wheat they do have, and that is your bread.
Every few days you are dragged out of your cell and interrogated by officers for a crime you
did not commit. You are crowded by German men with shiny boots and crop sticks and relentlessly
told to sign a paper admitting to killing the German Prisoners of War. Again and again you refuse
even after being threatened with the firing squad.
On February 4, 1945, an Alliance British plane known as a Pathfinder drops flares directly
into the middle of the Prisoner of War camp. The impinging waves level the prison camp and
destroy your solitary bunker. You crawl out and have to remind yourself to breathe as you are a
witness to an inferno.
Prisoners of war of all the Allied countries are screaming out of joy, confusion,
bewilderment, and some scream because it has been so long since they have had the freedom to do
so. There are fires all around, and you see body parts flying through the air.
At dawn, you and the other survivors are organized by your nationality. This mostly
consists of Yugoslavians, British, French, and Americans. You and the other Americans are put into
a box car and shipped to Limburg.
You are still only 19. You are filthy, grossly underweight, sick, yet exhilarated beyond
belief to be out of confinement. The conditions in Limberg are so different from home. There are
25

over 500 men sleeping on the dirty floors, no water, and not a single care package is ever sent,
although before going to war, you were promised to have them daily. As though all this were not
enough, you come down with diphtheria, and, as the camp is evacuated, you are left with 12 other
prisoners. The next day, the Ninth Armor Division greets you with utter disbelief at your condition.
After many months in the hospital you are given a leave. After experiencing more trauma
than anyone should have to endure, you finally arrive at the train station, longing for the secure
arms of your mother. You smile at her and almost collapse as she walks right by you, unable to
recognize you due to your condition....
Pain does not end just because the war did. Everyday is a reminder of being a 19-year-old
prisoner of war. After seeing such an evil side of man, it is amazing that you even find a way to
greet each day.
This is the story of my grandfather, Arthur Rubenstein. It was once said that “It takes twenty
years or more of peace to make a man; it takes only twenty seconds of war to destroy him.” This
war is a story my Grandfather kept silent about for many years, and as amazing as it is to hear what
happened, it is just as much an honor to hear him be able and willing to tell it. The soldiers and
victims of World War II should never be forgotten, for the price of freedom should never be as great
as it was.
26

An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay
Generally speaking, essays in this category should be focused, informative treatments of
specific subjects. This essay should examine multiple points of view and show strong
evidence of critical thinking, awareness of audience, and attention to social context. If
secondary sources are used, they must be documented correctly. This explanatory,
exploratory, or persuasive essay should have a title.
This essay provides the author with a wide variety of choices, ranging from explorations of
historical or political subjects to explanations of scientific processes to editorials or commentaries
about controversial topics, and it can also be a difficult piece to select because there are so many
options. The most successful pieces in this category are focused discussions of specific topics. If
the essay is meant to explore a subject fully, it will probably include carefully selected supporting
information. If the essay is meant to persuade, it should include appropriate support and discussion
and not rely on opinion alone.
Abby Olexa, in “Sacrificing All to Save a Few,” skillfully incorporates multiple
sources to thoroughly examine both sides of the school voucher issue. In her essay, “The Heart of
the Problem,” Bethany Pierce explores the subject of school violence. Through her use of both
strong personal opinion and outside sources, Pierce examines the school reforms underway and
suggests an alternative course of action. Kristin Price’s essay, “Art Department—More than Just
Pretty Pictures,” is an editorial examining the involvement of an art department in a high school
community. Price outlines the history and contributions of the art department to persuade her reader
that the department plays a vital role at the school. And, in her essay, “Blaming Irresponsibility,”
Stephanie Wood provides important details to persuade her reader that Firestone tires should take
responsibility for recent problems.
For more examples of the explanatory, exploratory, persuasive essay, see the
Complete Portfolios in this collection.
27

An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay—Abby Olexa
Sacrificing All to Save a Few
Imagine burning nine bridges to save one, or weeding out nine flowers to allow one to
bloom. School vouchers, the tuition subsidies that allow students to attend private schools, aim to
do just that by placing a chosen 10 percent of America’s schoolchildren in private schools while
leaving the other 90 percent, and America’s public school system in general, behind. Government
agencies should not fund school vouchers to assist students with private school tuition.
School vouchers are an unconstitutional action of the government. They conflict with the
First Amendment’s Establishment Clause, which states that “Congress shall make no law respecting
an establishment of religion.” According to Kathy Koch in the CQ Researcher, 77.1 percent of
private schools are religious, and Americans United for Separation of Church and State reports that
85 percent of private school students are enrolled in these sectarian schools. School vouchers, paid
for by taxpayer money, would invariably further the religious missions of the parochial schools and
therefore violate the separation of church and state.
The American public, who would fund such vouchers, has consistently been against
attempts to put voucher systems in place. Jessica Sandham of Education Week on the Web reports
that in the November 2000 general elections, voters rejected two voucher initiatives. California’s
Proposition 39 failed 70.7 percent to 29.3 percent, and Michigan’s Proposal 1 was defeated 69
percent to 31 percent. National Education Association (NEA) President Bob Chase states in the
USA Today that a recent Gallup Poll showed that three fourths of Americans would rather see
policymakers invest in improving existing public schools than subsidize tuition to private schools
for a few students.
Another problem with vouchers is that private schools cannot be held accountable. They do
not have to comply with open meetings and records laws; follow a prescribed curriculum;
administer and release the results of statewide standardized tests; or even hire certified teachers. In
fact, the NEA Today reports that only 71 percent of private school teachers are licensed, compared
to 97 percent of teachers in public schools. America’s only two publicly-funded school voucher
programs, located in Milwaukee and Cleveland, have both run into problems with private school
accountability. People for the American Way (PFAW) reports that a recent state audit found that in
Milwaukee, 10 percent of the voucher schools had no accreditation, were not seeking accreditation,
and administered no standardized tests. Since 1996, six Milwaukee voucher schools have closed,
and top officials at two schools have been indicted for criminal fraud. PFAW also reports that five
Cleveland schools had serious fire code violations, health hazards, inadequate curricula, and
unqualified teachers. As of December 1999, three of the five offending schools remain in the
voucher program. Are these the schools we want our children to attend and our tax dollars to fund?
Voucher schools also drain public schools’ money and can be fiscally irresponsible with the
funds that they receive. The NEA Today states that the Cleveland program went 41 percent over
budget in its second year, including spending $1.5 million on taxes for voucher students. This
shortfall was covered with funds earmarked for public schools. PFAW states that Ohio spends more
money per pupil on voucher students than it does on its 1.6 million public school students, and since
28

1991 it has spent more money on private schools ($1.1 billion) than it has to refurbish its public
schools ($1 billion). Furthermore, by the end of the 1999-2000 school year, Milwaukee’s program
will have spent almost $100 billion in taxpayer funds for private school tuition.
Taxpayers’ money would be better spent improving public schools than on private schools.
In the CQ Researcher, Kathy Koch writes that state-commissioned evaluations of the Milwaukee
and Cleveland voucher programs found no appreciable academic gains in the participating students.
Effective programs have been developed that could be implemented in the public schools and
provide more results from a greater number of students for less money. In Milwaukee, one such
program is SAGE (Student Achievement Guarantee in Education). This program, which reduces
class sizes, saw its participating students keep pace with voucher students in math and actually
outpace them in reading. The NEA reports that “Success for All,” an intensive reading program
developed by Johns Hopkins University, has a ten-year record of boosting student achievement,
especially for disadvantaged youngsters. This program could be implemented in all 113 of
Milwaukee’s elementary schools at a cost of $7.9 million and still have $21 million left over from
what the city’s voucher program costs. Cleveland could also use “Success for All” in its 80
elementary schools for $5.6 million and have $3 million left over.
The school voucher system may very well end up hurting the very students it intends to
help, leaving behind poorer and disadvantaged students. The Anti-Defamation League reports that
private school tuition can be as high as $10,000, and vouchers, typically providing students between
$2,500 and $5,000, would only cover part of that cost. Poor students would most likely not be able
to make up the cost difference and would therefore not benefit from the vouchers. Providing
vouchers could also encourage elite private schools to raise tuition, increasing the burden on lowincome
families. Another problem faced by the poor is the proximity of these schools. Few private
schools are located in inner cities and other economically depressed areas. Many private schools
tend to “skim” the best students out of public schools, rejecting those with disabilities, serious
educational deficits, and behavioral problems, and leaving those students behind in public schools
already losing money to the voucher programs. The NEA Today reports that 75 percent of private
schools have no special education programs. A 1998 U.S. Department of Education report found
that 46 percent of private schools would not accept vouchers if they had to accept students
randomly, and 68 percent would not accept school vouchers if they had to accept special-needs
students.
Voucher proponents claim that vouchers would create healthy competition between public
and private schools, but public and private schools are not on a level playing field. Private schools
typically cater to the economically elite, while public schools must accept any and all students.
Furthermore, decreased funding could force public schools to slash salaries, reduce faculty, and
make other cuts in funding. This would cause decreased teacher quality and larger classes. Finally,
when the future of America is on the line, there is no room for winners and losers in education; we
all must work together to allow all to succeed.
School voucher supporters argue that a favorable effect of vouchers will be that they will
make public schools less crowded, allowing the schools to save money. PFAW states that in
Milwaukee, the school districts lost only an average of twelve students per school; such a small
29

decrease will not allow the schools to save money on fixed costs like building maintenance, staff
salaries, school supplies, or administration.
Voucher backers also say that America’s educational system is in bad shape. However,
according to Bob Chase’s USA Today article, American students’ SAT and ACT scores are the
highest in a decade. Students are taking more advanced math and science courses and more
advanced placement classes than ever before. America’s high school graduation rates and college
attendance rates are the highest in history and the highest in the world. America’s educational
system is serving our youth and serving them well.
Advocates insist that vouchers will ensure “parental choice” in education. However, private
school administrators have the final decision about who to accept into the private schools. In his
USA Today article, Bob Chase states that it may be difficult for parents to find private schools
willing to accept their children’s vouchers. In Florida, 93 percent of private schools refused to
participate in voucher programs.
Taxpayers have indicated that they do not want their money taken away from the public
schools to send a small number of students to private schools which may be unsafe, have
unqualified teachers, and go over budget. Taxes would be better spent on smaller class sizes and
reading programs that will use the money more effectively to help all public school students. By
saying no to vouchers, we are saying that every child deserves the best possible education that
America can provide.
Works Cited
Achilles, Charles and Alex Molnar. “Voucher and Class-Size Research.” Education Week on the
Web Online. 25 Oct. 2000. Yahoo. 13 Nov. 2000.
.
Chase, Bob. “Vouchers Offer Parents False Hope.” USA Today Online. 29 Sept. 2000. Yahoo.
11 Nov. 2000. .
“Don’t Believe the Hype! Countering the Myths About Vouchers.” NEA Today Online. Nov.
1999. Yahoo. 14 Nov. 2000. .
“The Facts About Vouchers.” People for the American Way Online. Apr. 2000. Yahoo. 14 Nov.
2000. .
Kemerer, Frank R. and Stephen D. Sugarman. School Choice and Social Controversy.
Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution P, 1999.
Koch, Kathy. “School Vouchers.” CQ Researcher 9 Apr. 1999: 281-304.
“Private School Vouchers.” National Education Association Online. Jan. 1999. Yahoo. 14 Nov.
2000. .
“Private School Vouchers: Myth vs. Fact.” Americans United for Separation of Church and State
Online. 1999. Yahoo. 11 Nov. 2000. .
Sandham, Jessica. “Voters Deliver Verdict on Host of State Ballot Questions.” Education Week
on the Web Online. 8 Nov. 2000. Yahoo. 13 Nov. 2000.
.
30

“School Vouchers.” Issues and Controversies on File. 21 May 1999: 201-209.
“Vouchers Are Constitutionally Suspect.” Anti-Defamation League Online. 1999. Yahoo. 12 Nov.
2000. .
“Vouchers Are Not Universally Popular.” Anti-Defamation League Online. 1999. Yahoo. 12 Nov.
2000. .
“Vouchers Undermine Public Schools.” Anti-Defamation League Online. 1999. Yahoo. 12 Nov.
2000. .
Wildavsky, Ben. “Vouchers Lose in Court.” U.S. News Online Online. 27 Mar. 2000. Yahoo. 12
Nov. 2000. .
31

An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay—Bethany Pierce
The Heart of the Problem
“Guns don’t kill people, people kill people,” I have often heard. We know people kill
people. The real issue now is whether or not people can change people. Some are of the
opinion that we are capable of doing so; by implementing new reforms and tightening
school security, people are, in effect, saying they have the solutions to the problems. The
violence of recent school shootings has wrought anxiety and fear in parents, teachers, and
administrators across the nation. The massacre of Columbine turned a public school
library into a cemetery. The shooting in Oklahoma ripped us from the comfort of a
stereotypical and easily recognized threat; now popular straight-A students pull guns
without black trench coats. The violence has become unpredictable and, in all cases,
extremely frightening. In response to the threat, schools have engaged in extensive
prevention programs, often banning book-bags, implementing dress codes, setting up
metal detectors, or requiring students to attend anger management classes. Such attempts
at reform sound efficient on paper and may to some extent alleviate the anxieties of
parents, but they are like storming castle walls with slingshots. The object of reform in
this case is not tangible or always plausible. The object of reform is the human heart, the
internal person. We need to understand that the problem is bigger than a trench coat or a
gun; therefore, dress codes or metal detectors cannot solve it. These reforms are often
vain attempts at prevention. They hinder education and provoke students. Policy makers
and schools need to be aware that no simple public mandate can suffice as a solution.
In response to the massacres, school security has become an increasing source of debate as
the prospect of metal detectors and police patrols and students IDs have become prevalent. In the
Greater Cincinnati area, schools have “tightened discipline codes, locked school doors...and
adopted dress codes barring book-bags, coats, and other clothing...” (Mathis A3). Many people
believe that tightened security will not only prevent guns and weapons from invading school
premises but will discourage potential offenders from dangerous attempts. Such extravagant
measures, while encompassing a broad range of potential violence, will still leave open many
opportunities for disaster. The beep of a metal detector is not enough to alter a person’s intent; the
absence of a book-bag does not close all avenues to a plotting mind. “We still have accomplished
nothing if more metal detectors and security guards give us more Jonesboros, where kids pull a fire
alarm to shoot their classmates as they’re exiting the building,” said Sandford A. Newman,
president of Fight Crime (Mathis A3). We are locking doors while windows stands gaping open.
Keeping guns off school property is not enough, for “people kill people.”
Some advocate school dress codes, believing that uniform clothing will decrease student
rivalry, eliminate unnecessary distraction, and minimize peer differences. The differences,
however, remain. Uniform attire will not make anyone less skinny, heavy, pimpled, or attractive
than they already are. Just as the body is not transformed by outward attire, the heart is not
32

transformed by external improvements. It is foolish to presume that such external measures will
result in such internal transformations.
We have been attempting to minimize the enormity of the crisis into a package we can
analyze and handle, into something manageable. It is too painful and terrifying to admit that the
problem is too large for us. The tragedies of Paducah, Columbine, and Oklahoma began in the
minds and hearts of students, and we are ill fit to fully understand and comprehend the intricacies
of their experiences and psychological makeup. “People are looking for someone to come and say,
‘This is why it happened,’“ said Frank DeAngelis, principal of Columbine High School. “...I think
the reason people feel so afraid is the threat that it can happen again. That’s why people are so
frustrated. I’m frustrated. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t think, ‘Why did they do
it?’” (Miller 75). We cannot dictate or predict the thoughts of those around us. Emily Dickinson
once wrote, “The Brain—is wider than the sky—”.
We cannot implement a reform that will change human nature. There is no dress code that
will bring self-esteem to the outcast or humble the popular. There is no metal detector that can
sufficiently alert a student population to an angry and violent peer. The problem this nation faces
is that of hurting hearts and minds. To present a concrete solution one must have a concrete
problem, but this problem is complicated and its factors at times inexplicable. Its enormity resides
in human emotion, its source as large as the capacity of the human mind. It is, therefore, as
Dickinson aptly put: “wider than the sky.”
Works Cited
Mathis, Deborah. “Schools Fail at Stopping Violence.” The Cincinnati Enquirer 7 December 1999,
Final ed./Warren: A3.
Miller, Mark. “The Haunting Memories.” Newsweek 13 December 1999, Final ed./Warren: 75.
33

An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay—Kristen Price
Art Department—More than Just Pretty Pictures
Walking down the halls of the school, students are never at a loss for something to look at.
The walls of the school are constantly plastered with posters and fliers. More importantly, though,
there are the products of the school’s art department. The paintings, drawings, sketches and
photographs turn bland walls into something to be admired and awed by everyone. And none of
these would be possible without the art department.
The pictures on the wall are not the only things that the department offers the school though.
It provides student artists with a chance to enhance their talents. It provides the artists with training
in various media including acrylic paints, chalk pastels, clay, photography, and much, much more.
Through their artwork, the students can develop an extension of their voice and express themselves
visually. The art department also displays student artwork throughout the building for the faculty
and the community so that everyone recognizes the efforts and skills of the students.
Unfortunately, undue negative light has been shed on the department within the past month.
It is unfortunate to think that all of the accomplishments of the student artists and the teachers could
be so quickly forgotten because of fifteen controversial drawings in the hallway. For fifteen years,
the art teachers have displayed the nude torso drawings in the hallways with no complaints from
the community, but after a single complaint from a board member this year, the principal demanded
that the art teachers remove the drawings from the wall. Suddenly, the art department acquired a
bad name simply because one person thought that drawings of nude statues were inappropriate.
How is it possible that with one comment from one person, people forget how often the art
department has gone above and beyond the call of duty to help the school?
The department benefits more than just its own students. It affects the entire student body
and the community itself. Several major projects have been sponsored and carried out by the
department. One of those projects was a traveling exhibit celebrating cultural diversity. This
project was done in conjunction with Parson’s School of Design in New York.
The department also participated in the Violence Project. For this, students created visual
artwork and wrote essays and poems dealing with violence in American culture. This project was
done in conjunction with the group called Parents of Murdered Children.
They also created life size body casts memorializing victims of violence and community
heroes. Subjects of the casts included the students of Columbine and the slain Cincinnati police
officers Pope and Jeeters. These casts were then sent to memorial sites in the cities where the
violence took place. (Several casts were sent to Columbine High School itself.) Time and time
again, student artists have used their artwork to speak out against violence and take a stand in the
community. They pride themselves in being heard and making a difference.
By far, though, the most important project that the art department sponsors and participates
in is the Day Without Art campaign, an AIDS awareness project that the school participated in
during the beginning of the school year. Day Without Art was taken on by the high school eight
years ago, after several of the teachers from the art department attended the city’s first observance
at the downtown Contemporary Arts Center. Feeling that their students needed to be educated
34

about AIDS, they decided to implement their own version of Day Without Art within the
department. A year later they implemented it as a school-wide movement. The teachers and
students removed all of the artwork that normally hangs in the hallways. They also asked students
to dress completely in black on December first (National AIDS Awareness Day), and they passed
out red ribbons, the symbol of AIDS awareness, to all of the students in the school.
Through the years, the Day Without Art program has grown both internationally and at the
school. The art department has contacted AVOC (an AIDS volunteer organization) and FACE (For
AIDS Children Everywhere) and teamed up with them to help in the campaign to fight AIDS. The
organizations were invited by the art teachers to come to the school and pass out information and
answer student questions. “This year I think we had our largest number of faculty and students
participate,” commented the head of the art department. “I had to continually restock the ribbons
and pins as students joined the observance...but the thing that shows me that we’ve made people
aware is when I see a red ribbon on a purse or a book bag three months later. It’s not just about
December first; it’s about awareness.”
Even after having done so much, the art department still has more plans. This spring, the
Art 4 classes will create a second ceramic tile mosaic, similar to one on the wall across from the
media center. Last year’s mosaic theme was “We’ve Got the Whole World In Our Hands,” to
encourage students to realize their ability to impact the world. This year, the mosaic will be located
in the main lobby, and it will be called “Bridge of Dreams.” It is meant to encourage students to
follow and realize their dreams and personal potentials.
The art department is more than just paint and clay. It is an active and involved part of our
school and our community. Although, often times people do not realize the importance of the
department, it should nonetheless be admired and respected by everyone in the community, rather
than be criticized for being “inappropriate” because it displays student artwork in the hallway.
35

An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay—Stephanie Wood
Blaming Irresponsibility
“It was extremely difficult to control the truck at the time, and I had both my wife (two
months pregnant) and my 16-month-old daughter screaming and crying in a panic...My wife has
developed a fear of the only vehicle we have, understandably so. She fears other tires may also be
defective and that we may be in danger” (Nathan). Much like the 4,300 similar complaints the
National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) has received, this Firestone tire
consumer warned the agency of the faulty product and asked it to take action. Imagine a similar
problem happening to you. While leisurely traveling down the highway, your SUV is suddenly
thrown to the pavement. The tire tread on your left rear tire separates from the steel belt, and your
vehicle can not overcome its speed of 65-mph, and crashes uncontrollably. The SUV rolls over,
killing your family. Even though you complain, the NHTSA does nothing about the problem, and
you hear about other similar accidents.
On August 9, 2000, Bridgestone/Firestone, an international tire manufacturer, issued a recall
of all its ATX, ATX II, and Wilderness AT tires. To date, the company has replaced 6.5 million tires
(“Firestone death...”). Ford had contracted with Firestone to supply tires for all the SUV’s it
produced. Together Firestone and Ford investigated the problems with the recalled tires. Despite
much bickering between the two companies, the tires failed due to flaws in Firestone’s
manufacturing and production.
The NHTSA has reported a total of 148 deaths and 525 injuries involving tread separations,
blowouts, and other problems with Firestone tires. The Middle East has reported at least seven
deaths and Venezuela has reported forty-six due to the same kind of problem (“Firestone death...”).
From both foreign countries and the United States, complaints state that the tires lose their casings
when traveling at high speeds. The tire maker claimed it knew nothing of the tread problems until
late July, yet consumers have warned the company since the mid 1990’s (Nathan). It also stated
that the complaints it finally received did not raise any “red flags” because in relative terms, few
tires had failed; less than one in every 10,000 of the 47 million ATX, ATX II, and Wilderness AT
tires produced since 1991 have failed (Nathan). Most of the recalled tires came from the Decatur,
Illinois plant, the main concentration of the investigation. The company claimed that a workers’
strike at that plant in the nineties, when replacement workers made the product, caused most of the
problems.
Most automobile consumers do not realize that the supplier warranties original tires on a
brand new vehicle, rather than the car company. When problems exist with original tires, the
supplier should take the blame. The biggest flaw in Firestone’s manufacturing came from its push
for production; Firestone often pressured workers to make the largest amount of tires possible. Alan
Hogan, a former employee at the Firestone plant in Wilson, North Carolina, explained to the Akron
Beacon Journal that he had witnessed this with his own eyes. Hogan saw the use of “dry stock,” a
combination of no longer tacky steel belts and rubber. Workers placed it in a storage area called
the “bank” and then used it in production. Particularly after a shutdown, supervisors would
pressure the workers to try and make the “dry stock” sticky again by swabbing the tires with a
36

enzene compound. This compound could be found often at an arm’s length away from the workers
since they used it so much (Meyer). By using this compound and making the “dry stock” tacky
again, the workers could reuse the rubber and make more tires. Jan Wagner, who worked at the
Decatur plant, said that the company also pressured workers to repair sidewall blisters by punching
holes in the tire with an awl. Instead of throwing out the bad tire and making a new one, workers
used this technique to speed up the process. The workers placed these so-called “green tires” on
the floor to make room for more tires. The rubber, usually not dry yet, picked up dirt and other
foreign matter from the floor (“Firestone CEO…”).
Firestone also had a tendency to use bad rubber in production, trying to make a large amount
of tires. Bad rubber, which had barely passed inspection, was often mixed with good rubber then
used to make new tires (“Firestone CEO…”). Hogan also saw oil, water, cigarette butts, finger
tape, chunks of hardened rubber, and metal or wood shavings mixed with the tire stock (Meyer).
Lonnie Bart held many positions in the Decatur plant and confessed that steel belt material should
stay in a climate-controlled room. Corrosion and rust, which make it hard for rubber to adhere to
steel, also would be avoided with the use of a controlled room. The supply of rubber often stayed
in other areas for up to thirty minutes. The company, although knowing it should throw out that
material, often reprocessed it to remove rust and put it back into the storage area instead (“Firestone
CEO…”).
Besides the controversy with Firestone production flaws, another factor that contributed to
the faulty tires came from the size of the Decatur plant. The total size of the massive plant, 800,000
square feet, created a major problem with storage and working space within the company. The
company set up plastic tents over machines to protect them from leaking roofs. Moisture causes
corrosion of the steel belts that, in turn, cause belt separations; thus, those leaks became a critical
factor in failures (Meyer).
The workers, as well as their supervisors, knew about the obvious problems. Management
at the Firestone plants knew of the “dry stock” and crowded working conditions. Hogan once
rejected a load of dry stock adding with it a note that said, “‘If you get this roll of steel, I’ve rejected
it,’” then signed and dated it. The next day the roll came back to him for inspection with a message
from another tire builder that said, “‘ Hey Alan, I got that message you left on that rejected roll of
steel.’” That roll had been sent to the stock room, re-ticketed as acceptable material and then sent
back into the plant for production (Meyer). Plant supervisors had access to information concerning
rejected material, the number of bad tires, and also the machines that were not functioning properly.
A company computer called the Intermac, as well as a continuously rolling video monitor showed
shutdown machines along with the areas in the plant that had problems with material such as “dry
stock” (Meyer). Obviously, the company chose to ignore these problems.
The tire industry has made great strides since the 1970’s. Tires last longer and are less
puncture prone and contribute to better fuel economy and a greater grip on roads. However, the
public doesn’t understand how important they are to vehicle safety and performance (Ulrich). The
bigger demand for automobiles has created a greater demand for tires also. As the market grows,
so does the push for production. Flaws in the Bridgestone/Firestone’s manufacturing and
production process caused the defects the recalled ATX, ATX II and Wilderness AT tires. Pressure
37

to make a greater quantity of tires, laziness with production quality, and lack of strong management
all contributed to the flaws in Firestone tires. The recall has affected millions of consumers, not
only through accidents, deaths and injuries, but also from a rise in prices and a decreased trust in
the company. Firestone needs to take responsibility for its defective tires and fix its problems for
the future to regain the trust of present and future customers.
Works Cited
“Firestone CEO, former workers answer questions in tire lawsuits.” 27 October 2000
.
“Firestone death toll continues to climb.” Akron Beacon Journal 7 November 2000
.
Meyer, Ed. “Firestone whistle-blower gains enemies.” Akron Beacon Journal 3 December 2000
.
Nathan, Sara. “Drivers complained of tread problems years before recall.” USAToday.com 15
November 2000, Final ed., Cover story. .
Ulrich, Lawrence. “Failures of tires may stay unsolved.” Akron Beacon Journal 1 October 2000
.
38

RESPONSE TO A TEXT
This essay should respond to a written text (short story, novel, poem, play, or essay) or a
cultural text (film, music, or visual art) produced by professionals, classmates, or yourself.
The response should interpret or evaluate all or part of a text. Possible approaches
include analyzing textual elements, explaining the text’s significance, comparing the text
to other texts, relating the text to personal experience and /or connecting it to larger
social or cultural contexts. Use support from the text to develop ideas and strengthen the
focus without overshadowing your own response or giving extensive summaries. If
secondary sources are used, they must be documented correctly. (If the print text is not
common, a copy of it should be included with your portfolio.) This response to a text
should have a title.
While the general category of “Response to a Text” might conjure the image of a
straightforward, AP-style essay that focuses on a key theme of a novel or poem, there are as many
ways to write textual responses as there are texts. Although all the essays included in this section
are fairly conventional, they demonstrate the range of possibilities within the traditional format.
The first two essays provide examples of the kind of close reading and critical thinking portfolio
readers look for. Jessica Keel’s “Religion: Myth and Mistake in Native Son” provides moments of
dazzling close reading of Wright’s novel, while demonstrating the connection between the novel’s
themes and Wright’s politics. Moving from a unique introduction, Jessica pays close attention to
both local and global context and organization—she pulls out enough significant details to support
her claims but doesn’t allow them to overwhelm her analysis, and she is constantly aware of the
overarching connection she makes between Wright’s politics and writing. Brian Klosterman’s
“Woman: Doll, Child, Slave” places Henrik Ibsen’s ADoll’s House in historical context—a crucial
move for a comprehensive understanding of the drama. In analyzing the dialogue of the play, Brian
creates a sense of dialogue between the character of Nora and the nineteenth-century society that
produced her.
Stephanie Wood’s “Softly Spoken Strength” is a sustained character analysis of Janie in
Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. Stephanie makes effective use of quotes to
illustrate her points, and demonstrates a clear sense of control in her writing. In “Discovering
Truth,” Reynold Toepfer surprises his readers by juxtaposing two vastly different texts in order to
argue for their similarity of theme. Most impressive about Reynold’s work is the way he zooms in
on a few key moments in Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard and Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex—
each complicated enough to sustain papers of their own—to support his argument.
Be sure to look at the Complete Portfolios for more examples of a response to a text.
39

Response to a Text—Jessica Keel
Religion: Myth and Mistake in Native Son
If the United States were to adopt a Communist government, it would be a better country.
If Americans were to dispose of religion, they would be content people. If Richard Wright were to
complete an assignment regarding the context of his novel, Native Son, the aforementioned
arguments would be his focus. Wright, like all Marxists, believes that religion is “the opiate of the
masses,” providing a surreal dream world with negative side effects. The representation of
organized religion in Native Son supports Wright’s highly atheistic, Communistic views and his
aspirations for the United States. By negatively using conventional religious symbols, such as the
cross, prayer, God, colors, and numbers; and subtly mocking religious characters and organized
religion, Wright emphasizes the wrongs of organized religion and the rights of atheism and
Communism.
The symbol of the cross appears frequently throughout Native Son in order to stress the
faults of organized religion and to promote the societal problems caused by capitalism. While the
police transport Bigger to the prison from the Dalton household, a “flaming cross” (390) looms on
a nearby hill, representing not only the hatred the Ku Klux Klan feels for Bigger, but also the
animosity that all Christians in the community feel towards him. Religion brings Bigger no
comfort: “[He has] a cross of salvation round his throat and they [are] burning one to tell him that
they hate him” (391). At a time when Bigger turns to the symbol of salvation as he has been taught
to do, the religious in his community use that same crucifix to damn him. Bigger, therefore, desires
to “tear the cross from his throat and throw it away” (391) so that he may abandon the religion that
has abandoned him, the very same religion that would have taught him that aiding the intoxicated
Mary Dalton in the first place was the moral thing to do.
Although Bigger’s character refutes the concept of religion, Wright compares him to a
struggling Jesus Christ throughout the novel; society is to learn from Bigger’s example that
capitalism is the core evil of the country, just as Christians look to Christ to delineate between sin
and salvation. Bigger’s interactions with the Daltons mirror those of Jesus throughout the Stations
of the Cross. Bigger’s initial visit to the Dalton home foreshadows his death because the setting
mimics that of the crucifixion; “all at once…the sky [turns] black” (48), as it does while Jesus hangs
upon the cross on Good Friday. When Bigger first visits the Dalton home, he “slip[s] back” (51)
into his chair, just as Jesus falls while carrying his cross to Mount Calvary; this scene represents the
persecution in store for Bigger by those families who, like the Daltons, consider themselves
religious. Even during the murder and burning of the body of Mary Dalton, Bigger’s actions
parallel Christ’s. Similar to Christ’s struggle with the cross upon his back, Bigger “stoop[s] and
ca[tches] the strap” of Mary’s trunk and “carrie[s] it downstairs” (103) with her body inside, and
the murder of Mary becomes Bigger’s “cross,” upon which he is executed.
Similarly, prayer reappears within Native Son in order to prove the unimportance of God
and the ineffectiveness of belief. The rat remains dead although Bigger’s mother prays “Lord have
mercy” (5) after Bigger murders it in their tenement. God does not heed Mrs. Thomas’s simple
pleas for a dead rat, which foreshadows that any prayers for Bigger’s well-being are also to remain
40

unheeded. Mrs. Thomas later exhibits Wright’s belief that religious individuals are neither selfless
nor giving when she prays before Bigger’s execution, asking “the Lord if [she] did everything [she]
could for [him]” (345) instead of praying for Bigger’s soul. The preacher’s prayers invoke a
negative, persecuted feeling within Bigger, causing him to realize that “[t]o those who want to kill
him he [is] not human, not included in [the] picture of Creation” (328), which is the opposite of the
comfort that is intended and provides the idea that religion is a form of self-persecution, where one
devotes everything and receives nothing.
Colors also serve as a vessel through which Wright displays his ideas regarding God.
Primarily, the Virgin Mary’s colors, blue and white, appear together in situations that denounce the
importance and existence of purity and holiness. The message “Use Speed Gasoline” (17), written
upon the deep blue sky with white smoke, quickly disappears, which represents Wright’s belief that
God is a false entity with an existence that is polluting and manmade, a figment of stability that
someone created long ago to sell to the otherwise unstable. A “hazy blue light” shines within Mary
Dalton’s bedroom, causing her “white bed,” “white teeth,” (96) and “white dial[ed] alarm clock”
(101) to be the only objects visible as Bigger molests her. Despite the erratic faith of Mrs. Dalton,
God neglects to protect her daughter from Bigger’s lustful desire for “sins of the flesh.” The use of
these colors within the bedroom of Mary Dalton also belittles the Blessed Virgin Mary. Her
namesake, Mary Dalton, is clearly not innocent and pure of heart; she drinks alcohol, lies to her
parents regarding her whereabouts and her relationship with a Communist, and partakes in acts of
fornication with Jan, her lover, while Bigger chauffeurs them around town.
Another use of conventional religious symbols to highlight the evils of society is that of
reverent numbers. Bigger’s three friends, Jack, Gus, and G.H., represent the Holy Trinity because
they cannot save him, just as neither the Father, Son, nor Holy Spirit can save him. Likewise, “three
white men” (309) surround Bigger after his chase, who symbolize a persecuting Holy Trinity and a
vengeful God that assaults rather than assists believers. The repetition of the number two compares
Bigger’s situation to the Bible. Bigger, like his “savior,” Jesus Christ, is crucified between two
men; he sits “between two white people” (79), Jan and Mary, in the diner, where he does not belong.
The idea of the persecution of Bigger and Wright’s belief that the death of the supposed Christ does
not redeem the souls of his followers is again portrayed when Bigger finds himself “mov[ing]
consciously between two poles” (170), which represent the two pieces of timber fastened together
to create Christ’s crucifix, alluding to the fact that Bigger is destined for martyrdom.
An overwhelming lack of God within the lives of the characters in Native Son is also
evident through their sacrilegious actions, which support Wright’s atheism. Bigger and his friends
emphasize Wright’s atheistic views by laughing when Gus announces that “God’ll let [Bigger] fly
when He gives [Bigger] his wings in heaven” (17), implying that Bigger will never receive wings
because there is neither a God to provide them nor a heaven to which he will go. The pipe organ,
which is normally associated with Church hymns, plays in the theater where Bigger and Jack spend
their afternoon and represents Wright’s disbelief in God when its music “die[s] away” (32) and
Bigger and Jack continue to masturbate, symbolizing the “sins of the flesh” and evils that exist in
the world because people depend on a God who, like music, is intangible. Mrs. Dalton represents
Wright’s perception of the utmost religious, as her form is draped in pure, white fabric throughout
41

the entire novel, but she remains blind to the problems of the world, just as Wright believes that
religion blinds people from the real problems of society by consuming their attentions.
One of Wright’s key points through his character portrayals enforces the idea that atheist
Communists live better lives and possess better qualities than those who profess to live religiously.
The Daltons, a religious, respectable family, own a furnace that “hiss[es]” (143) steam. This
suggests that the masses bury their dark secrets, like the furnace in the Dalton basement, and use
religion as a cover. Mr. Dalton sees his donation of “a dozen Ping-Pong tables to the South Side
Boys’ Club” (340) as a noble gesture because his mind is clouded by religion; in reality, the useless
ping-pong tables provide Bigger with neither protection nor a means to keep himself from trouble.
While Bigger is hunted for his crime, it becomes evident that those who claim to be religious are
not really religious at all; it is the churchgoers that want to slaughter Bigger for his actions, which
is a form of revenge based on the Old Testament “eye for an eye” philosophy, and not on the dogma
of “love thy neighbor.” Atheists like Jan side with Bigger, not because they condone his behavior,
but because they respect human life; the religious, on the other hand, await the spilling of Bigger’s
blood. Jan’s gift of cigarettes and the counsel of the atheist lawyer Max, whose name bears a
striking similarity to that of Karl Marx, benefit Bigger more practically than the preacher’s gift of
a wooden cross. Because the gifts lack attachment to religion, the nicotine calms Bigger’s nerves
while Max attempts to save his soul. “Th[e] black folks go to church every day of the week,” (293)
but they remain destitute within the confines of the run-down Black Belt, asserting that their prayers
remain unanswered and they remain unhappy because they focus too much on praising a
nonexistent God and not enough time on practicing Communism.
Wright’s portrayal of religion and his use of religious imagery throughout Native Son
promote the major theme of Communist support throughout the novel because atheism stands
synonymous with Communism. The atheistic Communists support the right to life and equality,
and the religious capitalists persecute and abuse the poor in order to create a sound monetarilybased
community. Yet, the capitalist government punishes Bigger contrarily to religious beliefs:
although he comes before his judge at court and admits his faults, as all will stand and confess
before God on the Day of Atonement, Bigger Thomas is sentenced to death, not salvation. “Men
die alone” (496), as Max informs Bigger, because God-loving capitalists are driven by personal
gain and dispose of those who disrupt the system, sentencing them to death, leaving them to waste
away without showing them the love of their “God.”
Works Cited
Wright, Richard. Native Son. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1940.
42

Response to a Text—Brendan Klosterman
Woman: Doll, Child, Slave
ADoll’s House, by Henrik Ibsen, creates a peephole into the lives of a family in the
Victorian Era. The play portrays a female viewpoint in a male-dominated society. The values of
the society are described using the actions of a woman, Nora, who rebels against the injustices
inflicted upon her gender. Women’s equality with men was not recognized by society in the late
1800’s. Rather, a woman was considered a doll, a child, and a servant. Nora’s alienation reveals
society’s assumptions and values about gender.
A woman was considered by society to be a doll because she was expected to be subordinate
to her husband’s whims. Referring to a ball that she would attend, Nora asks her husband, Torvald,
if he would “take me in hand and decide what I shall go as and what sort of dress I should wear”
(26). Nora relies completely on how her husband would dress her, just like a doll. Just as Nora is
treated as a doll, she interacts with her children as such. She doesn’t raise them, she merely “play[s]
and romp[s] with the children” (13). She tells Torvald, “our home has been nothing but a playroom.
I have been your doll wife, just as at home I was Papa’s doll child; and here the children have been
my dolls” (67). In this conversation, she shows her alienation as a woman in society by expressing
discontent with her role in life.
In addition to being treated like a doll, Nora is also regarded as a small child. Victorian
society looks upon women’s intelligence as no better than a child’s. Torvald tells her, “You talk like
a child. You don’t understand the conditions of the world in which you live” (69). Yet, he does
nothing to rectify the situation. While Nora says she is unlike a child, she displays her childish
tendencies by repeating “impossible” (Ibsen 28, 29) when she is confronted with the possibility that
she might have to face punishment for forging her father’s name. She alludes to a child’s character
when she says, “everything I think of seems so silly and insignificant” (26). Torvald replies with a
condescending statement: “Does my little Nora acknowledge that at last?” (26). Torvald expects
only childish talk from her. He even tells her she is “little,” like a child, and although he expects
nothing more than child’s talk from her, he does expect to be obeyed.
Nora plays the part of a slave in her subservience to her husband, for she is supposed to
abide by his rules and be dependent on him. She is not supposed to think for herself and repeatedly
told so by those around her. When speaking about Nora in her presence, Torvald says, “She is so
terribly self-willed” (55). Nora has a conversation with Mrs. Linde, who also tells her, “Don’t be
self-willed” (57). Torvald tells her, “I will advise you and direct you” (64). Nora is expected to be
a dependent slave who follows her husband’s advice and directions. Women were also legally
dependent upon men. The society’s laws of that time even required the male to cosign everything
that a woman had to sign. Nora’s naivete in forging her father’s signature and trying to pay off the
loan further emphasizes Victorian society’s assumptions about women’s inability to deal with a
“man’s world.”
These assumptions about women caused their gender value to be vastly outweighed by that
of men. From relationships to working, men had more power than women. Nora and Torvald’s
relationship followed this rule, even to the extent of Torvald’s condescending nicknames such as
43

“my little squirrel” (2). Torvald does not love Nora as an equal, and because of this, Nora finds that
she cannot love Torvald. When Torvald asks what he had done to make Nora not love him, Nora
replies, “It was tonight, when the wonderful thing did not happen; then I saw you were not the man
I had thought you” (69). The wonderful thing would have happened if Torvald had taken
responsibility for Nora’s romantically-inspired forgery that saved his life. By taking responsibility,
however, he would have lost his honor in society. He states, “no man would sacrifice his honor for
the one he loves” (70). Nora sums up the inequality between man and wife by retorting, “It is a
thing hundreds of thousands of women have done” (70). Torvald, however, expresses the maledominated
society’s views of women and says, “Oh, you think and talk like a heedless child” (70).
Because of Torvald’s inability to grasp the concept of equality, Nora leaves him. Society’s values
are revealed by Nora’s declaration of equality and independence.
Through Nora’s rebellious declaration and departure, she removes herself from society’s
standards and makes a move towards equality. She renounces society’s views of a woman as a
child, doll, and slave. Men in Victorian society told a woman how to act as a parent to a child, how
to dress for a public event as an owner to a doll, and how to keep her thoughts to herself as a master
to a slave. Henrik Ibsen portrayed qualities of the Victorian era through the alienated female
gender, represented by Nora.
Note: While the primary text referred to in the essay serves as the source for all quotations, a
complete citation in a “Works Cited” page is considered standard in academic writing. Please
include complete citations whenever primary and/or secondary sources are used.
44

A Response to a Text—Reynold Toepfer
Discovering Truth
The scholar is engaged in the interminable quest for truth in every aspect of his or her life.
However, the thing that makes people wise is knowing that they can never understand everything.
Ignorance, the quality of lesser people, is the assumption that they understand all about the world
around them. They are so blindly confident they comprehend the truth, that they restrain
themselves from opening their eyes to the greater truth. Anton Chekhov and Sophocles deal with
the idea of this sinful pride that leads to ignorance in their respective works, The Cherry Orchard
and Oedipus Rex. In each drama, certain characters are slapped in the face with the truth; the light
is revealed. However, these characters make the connection when it is too late. Their destruction
is already destined to become a reality, a horrid fate that could have been prevented. Both Chekhov
and Sophocles present the universal theme that an open mind, constantly in search for truth, is the
mark of a worthy individual, and prideful stubbornness can only lead to demise.
The question must then be asked, what truths are evident in these texts? Oedipus is the
proud king of a county called Thebes. However, his country has fallen on hard times as a result of
angry gods displaying their wrath. The oracle reveals to Oedipus that the curse shall be lifted when
the murderer of the former king is put to justice. As the incriminating evidence piles up against
Oedipus, he remains ignorant of the truth that he is the killer whom he seeks. He stubbornly refuses
to believe that he cannot escape his fate. Sophocles presents this ironic truth in light and dark
imagery. The chorus dramatically demands, “Artemis, Huntress, / Race with flaring lights upon our
mountains / […] Whirl upon Death, that all the Undying hate! / Come with blinding torches, come
in joy!” (Sophocles l.198-204). The metaphor depicts light representing truth. The idea of light
being “blinding” portrays how shocking and unexpected this truth will be to Oedipus. The timing
of the chorus’ plea as Oedipus enters the stage clearly demonstrates that Oedipus is the man whom
he seeks, the murderer of the king. The truth of the play is revealed, yet Oedipus remains ignorant.
Chekhov also makes use of a symbol to represent truth in his play. In The Cherry Orchard,
the Ranevskayas are an aristocratic family that squander away their final days at their beloved
cherry orchard. It shall soon be auctioned off, yet the family merely sits about and engages in
meaningless chatter. They assume that everything shall be taken care of, the way it always has been
in their lives. However, there is one man who seems to be above the careless atmosphere that
surrounds him—Lopakhin, the hard-working son of generations of peasants. This man of great
ambition represents truth. The truth that Chekhov reveals in the play is the emerging changes in
the Russian social structure. The industrious middle class is on the rise, and the lazy aristocracy is
doomed to fade away. In the end, Lopakhin buys the cherry orchard, which is the “estate where
[his] father and grandfather were slaves” (Chekhov 366). The cherry orchard was the security, the
wealth, and the power of the aristocracy; it is bought by a merchant, the son of peasants. Could the
aristocracy not see what was happening, or did they choose to remain ignorant? By constructing
summer cottages, the Ranevskaya family could have prevented the loss of the beloved orchard, but
they refused to see the truth.
To better portray their theme, Chekhov and Sophocles design characters of the utmost
45

status. The Ranevskaya family is one of the most prominent families in Russia, and Oedipus is a
king. According to common beliefs, these people cannot be wrong. They cannot represent
ignorance. Chekhov and Sophocles use irony to emphasize this theme. The Ranevskaya family
believes that they are a part of the “intelligentsia,” a term with which aristocrats label themselves.
They look upon all others with disdain and feel superior to Lopakhin and Trofimov. The irony is
that Lopakhin eventually buys them out, and Trofimov is the wise intellectual whom they mock for
being the “eternal student.” Chekhov utilizes this intellectual to give light to the idea that “in
Russia, only a very few work. They call themselves the intelligentsia, yet they belittle their
servants, treat the peasants like animals, are wretched students, never read anything serious, and do
absolutely nothing” (Chekhov 346). Trofimov understands the aristocracy, and understands that
because of their useless behavior, they are destined to become worthless. It was not a member of
the “intelligentsia” that came to this conclusion. Similarly, Sophocles devises an old, wandering
blind man to reveal the truth to Oedipus. The irony of a blind peasant being able to see a truth that
a king seemingly cannot or refuses to understand is the very essence of this universal theme. We
are all equal. We are all equally inferior to the gods and must not be proud and think that we can
understand a world which they created.
There is a difference in the time and place settings in which these two pieces were written.
Russia during the nineteenth century contained quite a different lifestyle than ancient Greece. At
the time of Sophocles’ play, religion consisted of many deities, each in charge of a different aspect
of life. Russia, on the other hand, has always been a dominantly monotheistic society. Although
both places experienced different religious views, the message remains the same. Arrogance is an
attempt at godliness, whether there be one god or many. The Greeks labeled this frequent
occurrence as hubris, meaning excessive pride. Authors often write of the ignorance and sinfulness
of excessive pride. Sophocles claims, “any mortal who dares hold / No immortal Power in awe /
Will be caught up in a net of pain” (Sophocles l.844-846. 12 ). The “net of pain” to which he refers
is a dreadful fate given by the gods. In this Greek society, arrogance was punishable by the gods.
Remaining humble and accepting inferiority to the gods was the key to salvation. The situation was
slightly different in Russian society. They did not believe that the gods took such an active role in
the lives of humans, and it was not commonly thought that a god would specifically punish
somebody. The Ranevskayas, however, do demonstrate that those who assume superiority in
general are nothing but fools.
The erudite Trofimov sums up this universal theme:
Whether or not the estate is sold today—does it really matter? That’s all done with
long ago; there’s no turning back, the path is overgrown. Be calm, my dear. One
must not deceive oneself; at least once in one’s life one ought to look the truth
straight in the eye (Chekhov 357).
As he comforts Lyubov while she awaits the news of what happened to the cherry orchard,
she is still kidding herself with false hope, ignorant hope. She did not want to see the truth, and
now her fate is sealed. Had she opened her eyes, things might have ended up differently. Trofimov
tells her to look the dreadful truth straight in the eye because she “served [her] own destruction”
46

(Sophocles l.1468. 20). And yet, despite the wisdom of our predecessors, do we not still find our
vision obscured by a prideful stubbornness, our eyes sealed against the light of truth?
Note: While the primary texts referred to in the essay serve as the sources for all quotations,
complete citations in a “Works Cited” page is considered standard in academic writing. Please
include complete citations whenever primary and/or secondary sources are used.
47

A Response to a Text—Stephanie Wood
Softly Spoken Strength
Through her use of southern black language Zora Neale Hurston illustrates how to live and
learn from life’s experiences. Janie, the main character in Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching
God, is a woman who defies what people expect of her and lives her life searching to become a
better person. Not easily satisfied with material gain, Janie quickly jumps into a search to find true
happiness and love in life. She finally achieves what she has searched for with her third marriage.
Unfortunately, however, after years of a happy marriage, Janie accidentally kills her husband during
an argument. Her town forces her not only to deal with the grief, but to prove her innocence to a
jury. Enduring and overcoming her three husbands and forty years of life experiences, Janie looks
within herself to find and use her long hidden, but courageous voice.
Janie’s first attempt at love does not turn out quite like she hopes. Her grandmother forces
her into marrying Logan Killicks. As the year passes, Janie grows unhappy and miserable. By pure
fate, Janie meets Joe Starks and immediately lusts after him. With the knowledge of being wrong
and expecting to be ridiculed, she leaves Logan and runs off with Joe to start a new marriage. This
is the first time that Janie does what she wants in her search of happiness: “Even if Joe was not
waiting for her, the change was bound to do her good…From now on until death she was going to
have flower dust and springtime sprinkled over everything” (32). Janie’s new outlook on life,
although somewhat shadowed by blind love, will keep her satisfied momentarily, but soon she will
return to the loneliness she is running from.
At the beginning of her second marriage, her new husband seems to hold all the qualities
she looks for. He treats her wonderfully and strives to make her happy. Soon after they move to a
new town, Eatonville, Joe concentrates his time and thoughts on being the mayor and becoming
powerful, not towards Janie. One evening, as the town gathers for the grand opening of its general
store, Joe denies Janie the chance to make a speech, even though the crowd wants one: “‘Thank yuh
for yo’ compliments, but mah wife don’t know nothin’‘bout no speech-makin’. Ah never married
her for nothin’ lak dat. She’s uh woman and her place is in de home’” (43). Janie, very hurt and
embarrassed, does not tell Joe of her feelings, but instead keeps them to herself. This nonconfrontational
attitude toward her marriage shows how easily Janie lets Joe control her with his
authority: “‘Ah hates disagreement and confusion, so Ah better not talk. It makes it hard to get
along’” (57). Instead of working out her anger with her husband, an important quality in any
working relationship, Janie keeps quiet and lets the frustration and emotion build within her.
As their marriage grows, so do Janie’s opinions and her ability to express them. She starts
to stand up to Joe when they get into arguments, although Joe continues to refuse to see or speak
with her. As Joe grows ill, and close to death, Janie forces him to listen to what she has to say:
Naw, you gointuh listen tuh me one time befo’ you die. Have yo’ way all yo’
life, trample and mash down and then die ruther than tuh let yo’self heah
‘bout it. Listen, Jody, you ain’t de Jody ah ran off down the road wid. You’se
whut’s left after he died. Ah run off tuh keep house wid you in uh wonderful
way. But you wasn’t satisfied wid me de way Ah was. Naw! Mah own mind
48

had tuh be squeezed and crowded out tuh make room for yours in me. (86)
This is the first time Janie expresses her feelings to her husband about how he treats her.
Unfortunately, this pivotal step in their relationship comes too late for them to salvage their loving
marriage before Joe passes away. Although the reader might see this progress as unimportant,
actually it is very significant. From this moment, Janie begins to change her way of thinking and
acting.
Soon after Joe’s death, Janie meets a young man, Tea Cake, who attracts her and with whom
she gets along easily. Janie does not try to hide her relationship from the disapproving town, and
she runs off with Tea Cake to the muck in southern Florida. Mrs. Turner, another wife on the muck,
does not like Tea Cake and tries to interest Janie in her brother. Janie, although not interested,
receives a harsh beating from the jealous Tea Cake. Tea Cake explains the beating as a way of
proving his control not only over Janie, but the Turners as well. Although their relationship is
violent, Tea Cake is the only man with whom Janie is comfortable, and can love as violently.
The violence of their relationship provokes the final example of Janie expressing her
newfound voice. In self-defense during an argument, Janie accidentally killed her husband and the
court prepares to try her for murder. Many people attend the trial, including her old friends from
the muck, who are hoping to witness her conviction. Janie takes the stand, knowing she has to
change the minds of all those against her and make them see her as Tea Cake’s wife and lover, not
the murderer they perceive her as: “She tried to make them see how terrible it was that things were
fixed so that Tea Cake couldn’t come back to himself until he had got rid of that mad dog that was
in him and he couldn’t get rid of the dog and live...She didn’t plead to anybody. She just sat there
and told them and when she was through she hushed” (187). Ironically, Hurston summarizes the
trial, without including direct testimony from Janie. One may think that such an important aspect
of Janie’s story, and also a main example of her finally vocalizing her feelings, would be told by
Janie herself. The reader can conclude that although Janie learned from her experiences and came
to speak her mind, she also sees the appropriate time to do so.
The judge rules her innocent; Janie buries her husband, and decides to go back to her home
in Eatonville. Hurston weaves the story back to the beginning of the novel where Janie returns
home and finishes her story to her friend Pheoby. Afterward, Janie reiterates that Pheoby can go
and tell all the other women in the town just exactly what happened: “‘You can tell ‘em what Ah
say if you wants to. Dat’s just de same as me ‘cause mah tongue is in mah friend’s mouf’” (6). But
Janie knows that the other women will never understand because they haven’t lived through what
she did: “talkin’ don’t amount tuh uh hill uh beans when yuh can’t do nothin’ else. And listenin’
tuh dat kind uh talk is jus’ lak openin’ yo’ mouth and lettin’ de moon shine down yo’ throat. It’s a
known fact, Pheoby, you got tuh go there tuh know there’” (192). Janie no longer worries about
what others think of her, nor does she feel that she has to suppress her thoughts and feelings. The
tragic death of her third husband, a turning point in her way of thinking, helps her to find her voice
and to express it wisely.
Their Eyes Were Watching God is not a novel simply about a young black woman dealing
with her husband’s death; but rather, it is the story of a young black woman dealing with life and
learning from its experiences. The story starts out with Janie as a child and continues through her
49

life, showing her growth as a person. By the end of the novel, Janie, an old woman, has dealt with
many experiences and also much pain. Through her three marriages, the death of her one true love,
and proving her innocence in Tea Cake’s death, Janie learns to look within herself to find her hidden
voice. Growing as a person from the many obstacles she has overcome during her forty years of
life, Janie finally speaks her thoughts, feelings and opinions. From this, she finds what she has been
searching for her whole life, happiness.
Work Cited
Hurston, Zora Neale. Their Eyes Were Watching God. New York: Harper Collins, 1990.
50

Complete Portfolio—Scott Gruenbaum
In his letter Scott Gruenbaum clearly presents himself as a writer who can play with
language, using humor when appropriate to explain why he chose the pieces he did for inclusion in
the portfolio. He analyzes how writing the persuasive essay caused him to modify his position on
the issue under discussion, notes that writing a response to a text is the “most painful type of essay
to write” yet expresses confidence that he did indeed write an effective one, and proudly tells his
reader that the short story “was written by me for me.” The letter, therefore, is an introduction to
both the portfolio’s contents and their author. The short story, “Starlight Through the Clouds,” is a
fluid descriptive narrative that displays a rich vocabulary and an eye for detail. The persuasive
essay, “Pawns to Advancement,” uses a variety of reputable published sources and personal
interviews to explore the controversial issue of animal testing and presents the author’s views in a
controlled yet firm tone. “The River of Choices,” a brief response to the text Hamlet, nonetheless
distills important moments from the play to offer a focused look at Shakespeare’s use of diction and
poetic devices. As a whole, Gruenbaum’s portfolio takes risks, displays an extremely effective use
of language, and demonstrates he can write proficiently in response to a variety of prose tasks.
51

Scott Gruenbaum—Reflective Letter
Dear Miami University Writing Teachers,
I’ll admit outright that this portfolio presented me with something of a quandary. It called
for a work of fiction, a persuasive essay, and a response to a text— a balanced mix, to be sure—
but unfortunately, many of my favorite pieces did not exactly fit into those categories. Therefore,
I was not able to include several works which best illustrate who I am and where I come from. You
should count this a blessing. For some reason, most people I talk to do not truly appreciate a proper
hamster-worship, cheesecake, and/or attack-squirrel essay. Those who don’t immediately shuffle
slowly away usually end up making a few clever comments regarding medication. Anyway, after
a careful consideration of the saner pieces that actually somewhat fit the specifications, I came up
with... two out of the three.
The persuasive essay was a piece of cake, so to speak. In my Junior year, I wrote an
argumentative essay on the subject of animal testing. At the time I was totally opposed to any sort
of testing. I will not go so far as to state that writing this essay radically changed my outlook on
things, but over the course of my research, I did come to a new, perhaps more moderate,
understanding. Some readers of this and my other argumentative essays may think that I have no
real opinion, that I waver too much and don’t know what to think. Allow me to state for these
people that this is for the most part inaccurate. There may be some issues (football scores, current
fashions, etc.) that I don’t care about, but on most serious subjects, I try to take a moderate stance,
as I have so often found whether when researching animal testing or the destruction of the rainforest
that both sides have valid and important points, and any extremist view most often fails to solve
anything.
For me, the second most painful type of essay to write is a response to a text. The first most
difficult to write, of course, would be poetry. For your own sake, be glad this is a prose portfolio
(Douglas Adams fans, think Vogons...). Anyway, over the years I have written a great many
responses, some bad, some good, all quite boring. I mean, its great when Shakespeare uses the “s”
sound repeatedly to enhance his wave/ocean imagery, but writing a multi-page paper on that subject
is not on my “Lifetime Goals” list. However, as you English teachers seem to like responses, I
managed to scrounge up one on Hamlet that I personally feel is rather well done. I would expound
more on this subject, but it’s making me drowsy.
Now I had a problem. I’ve written a few short story-type pieces, but upon reexamination,
I found that none of them would properly meet the requirement. One was way too long at 16 pages,
one consisted entirely of inside jokes bashing the school’s marching band, and the third, the most
promising, was a) still too long, and b) was a little too... weird. It was meant as a parody of The
Crucible, but, as many of my things do, took on my personality:
Applegale: The rutabaga! It... it says its going to eat me! (She falls to the floor
and starts clucking like a chicken) The purple rutabaga is coming after me!
Therefore, I was forced to write an original short story. After a few bad starts, I decided to
try my hand at descriptive writing. I’ve always somewhat admired those authors who could talk so
much that it seemed to take 10 pages for anything to happen. So, when I wrote my story, I
52

determined that I would have as little plot as possible, and concentrate mostly on the imagery. As
I am something of a nature lover/ very minor tree hugger, I wrote about the woods. To give a brief
synopsis: tree gets hit by lightning, falls down. And it took me three pages to say that! Heh heh....
Upon submitting this piece, I know it’s a risk. Half the people who read it liked it; half gave me
the look and suggested a massive re-write. Frankly, I don’t care. I had fun writing it, and I
personally like my descriptions, and that’s good enough for me. The two previous essays were
written for an outside reader— a teacher, student, wonderful, kind, caring, vaguely god-like Miami
portfolio grader, etc— but the final short story was written by me for me.
Anyway, I’m about out of room for this letter, so I guess you’re all saved from one of my
hamster stories... ‘tis a pity. Maybe if I ever meet you face to face I’ll recount the tale of the Great
MO, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Wilson G———- (my last name) Jr. II, Cutest Bouncing Bubbly
Baby Boy Kong Child, Moldy Cheese, The Hamster Formerly Known As Cabbage. Or maybe
not— especially if the medical authorities get to me first...
Sincerely,
Oops, can’t tell you my name, can I?
53

Scott Gruenbaum—A Narrative or Short Story
Starlight Through the Clouds
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often
caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some
days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades
of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the
gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves
swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth
waited.
On the edge of a small wood, an ancient tree sat hunched over, the gnarled, old king of a
once vast domain that had long ago been turned to pasture. The great, gray knees gripped the hard
earth with a solidity of purpose that made it difficult to determine just where the tree began and the
soil ended, so strong was the union of the ancient bark and grainy sustenance. Many years had
those roots known—years when the dry sands had shriveled the outer branches under a parched sun,
years when the waters had risen up, drowning those same sands in the tears of unceasing time.
Many sands had the tree known; many green neighbors had come and gone, yet the tree remained.
The mighty roots had endured such whips and scorns as had been cast upon it, but the old tree had
survived, a pillar of twisted iron and horn against the now sickly sky. In the waning light of
evening, the tree waited.
In the deep crevices between the tufts of grass, the shadows stalked slowly upward,
submerging the sandy earth in an inky sea. The sun sank until only its last, thin razor of light
glimmered over the fields. Time stretched its ancient joints, and lazily, yet inexorably, ground
onward. The dusk hung in an eternal, yet horribly finite stillness. The bees still buzzed and
hummed among the flowers; the deer still grazed softly among the undulating waves of grass, yet
in that moment, their movement seemed arrested, held in check by the waning sun.
And the winds came.
The wild west wind came down through the fields, rousing the deer from their reverie, and
swaying the bee-studded flowers. From its highest bough to the loose sand on its mighty roots, the
ancient tree quivered lightly, yet was untroubled by the breeze. Many a storm had passed over the
tree, yet no rain had managed to drown those fathomless roots, no hail had managed to bite the iron
bark.
As the stars hang, unchanging in the nighttime sky, and as the sun moves in ceaseless circles
around the earth, so the tree had endured. And even as the wind rustled in its outermost boughs,
the tree looked out to the sun, as if for reassurance about its own unchanging eternity. On the
horizon, no yellow eye looked back. The sun was gone.
In a tumult of wind and rain, a hail of twigs and leaves thundered through the trees and tore
the arching grasses out by the roots. The deer bolted and hid, quivering, in the darkest thickets. The
sky boiled, and the younger saplings were bent almost to the ground. Even as the shadows bounded
up the stalks and blades of weeping grass, and the soft plink of falling rain quickened to a constant
hiss and sputter, the sun found its equal. A thousand stars came down to earth and unleashed their
54

pent-up fury on that wood. In the middle of the chaos, the ancient tree sat, locked in a blissful
eternity of time, waiting.
And the lightning struck.
The white fury of the bolt tore into the tree and, shivering the outer limbs from the trunk,
burrowed its way inward, splintering the old bark as a giant wave would a toy raft—and still the
tree waited. With a cry that wrenched the tree from its lowest roots to its loftiest bough, the bolt at
last sprang into the guarded, iron heart. To the harsh rumble of enormous drums, the great tree burst
asunder in a blast of searing fire. The moment had come.
And the tree understood.
The winds faded and the rains shed their final tears. On the steaming ground, the old tree
lay silent, its cambered limbs crumpled, its mighty trunk cloven in two. The wood still sighed and
moaned softly in the storm’s wake, yet around the tree, a great stillness lay. An ineffable sense of
peace, like moonlight diffused through silvery clouds, bathed the spidery roots. In its last moments,
the tree seemed to rise up in that moonlight, a glowing tower overlooking the fast flowing river of
time, higher and higher, until its lofty summit shone down on the heavens themselves. Yet the
moment fled with the retreating breeze, and the tree sank back to the ground, its twisted mass
strewn across the moist earth, dark and still, its light extinguished.
Even as the last light of the tree escaped the mortal grasp of the tenuous earth, it found its
way up, up into the clouds themselves, and scattered them as one would mere mists and vapors.
And in that lofty canvass of the sky, the light was born again, and the stars reappeared in all their
glory. They had been hidden as the sun was now, hidden behind the orb of the earth and the
shadowy clouds, yet their light remained, inextinguishable, eternal. The cloud was a passing
moment, nothing more, and had been dispersed. Now the eyes of the heavens stared down on the
eyes of the earth, and, through the wreckage and ruin, they smiled.
On the ground, near the roots of the old tree, the star’s light was intercepted by green shoots
and small, crinkled leaves— last season’s seeds. Tiny children of the mother tree, they were
doomed to live out their lives under her suffocating blanket of branches. Now as they gazed
upward, innumerable points of light gazed back. A light wind rustled the miniature stalks of the
saplings, blowing the new debris around in short-lived eddies that danced softly through the night.
Then, slowly at first, but with ever increasing intensity, a small glimmer appeared on the glossy
leaves. Through the whispering blades of grass, a brilliant fire arose from the depths turning the
lingering water droplets into liquid silver that dripped from expectant leaves and flowed gurgling
into shallow puddles, bathing the young trees with the succulent taste of a new day.
And the golden morning sun rose.
55

Scott Gruenbaum—An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay
Pawns to Advancement
Without animal research, cures for such diseases as typhoid, diphtheria, and polio might
never have existed. Without animal research, the development of antibiotics and insulin would
have been delayed. Without animal research, many human beings would now be dead. However,
because of animal testing, 200,000 dogs, 50,000 cats, 60,000 primates, 1.5 million hamsters, and
uncounted millions of rats and mice are experimented upon and die each year, as living fodder for
the great human scientific machine. Some would say that animal research is an integral part of
progress; unfortunately, this is often true. On the whole, animal testing is a necessary evil that
should be reduced and eliminated whenever possible.
Since the time of Aristotle, animals have been used to further human progress. When Galen
pioneered the study of anatomy or when Harvey discovered the circulation of blood, they used
animals as a vital portion of their work. Why? Because at the time there was no alternative short
of testing on human beings, an option very few would morally accept then or even now.
Throughout all of human history, the pattern has remained the same—human technological and
scientific progress has always involved testing on animals. Without that testing, modern medicine
would be a shadow of what it is today. Many modern procedures stem directly from testing with
animals. In addition, doctors and surgeons receive much of their training with the living tissues of
animals. Computer simulations and other methods simply cannot compete with experience on a
living being. For example, the United States Army formerly shot goats to train physician responses
to gunshot wounds (Cole 3). There was no other way to train military doctors because shootings
are relatively rare in hospitals. In short, without animal testing, it would be difficult for science to
advance, or as Dave Weaner, a physics and science teacher at Westerville North High School, said,
“Animal testing is valid because it gives us something to compare results against; it is necessary for
advancement.” However the question now comes up, “What is necessary and what is merely a
waste of a life?” Any testing on a living being is horrible; however, in the case of cancer research,
doctor training, drug research, et cetera, it has a weighty purpose—to save future lives. Some
animal testing is not only unnecessary, but it is disrespectful to the animals being used. Cosmetic
or frivolous consumer goods have no place being tested on animals. Humans have no right to harm
another being merely to “look pretty.” Mrs. Whisler, an English teacher, agrees, saying, ì[Cosmetic
testing] is disrespectful; never should a life be given for a beauty product....î Luckily, animal testing
is in decline on all fronts. New advancements in science have made available options for testing
that do not include animals.
For many years, the only alternative to animal testing was human testing. However, today
there are many alternative methods that have played a part in the reduction of animal testing.
Modern computer modeling, tissue samples, cell cultures, and advances in molecular biology are
all now used to do preliminary testing on new products. Other testing on lower life forms such as
bacteria, invertebrates, and embryos have further reduced the need for live animal testing (Breen
6). Yet uncounted numbers of animals are still used for research. Why? Why with so many new
methods are animals still subjugated? The answer, unfortunately, is simple. “Computer models and
56

other methods can’t compete with [animal] testing, (Dave Weaner Interview). In other words, the
only real way to tell how a substance will react with a living being is to test it on a living being;
models can only help so far and in the end, animals must be used to ensure the data is valid (Breen
6). There is one other way in which animal testing can and is being reduced. Modern science does
not require the same number of animals to perform experiments as it once did. For instance the
Lethal Dose 50% (LD50) tests of the past can be replaced with tests involving not hundreds but a
dozen or so animals. As Doctor Stephens, an animal researcher, notes, “...the number of animal
tests and the number of animals tested, can be greatly reduced.” Animal testing, though needed for
human scientific progress, is less required than it once was. New alternatives have reduced the
need, though a need still exists. Perhaps animal testing can never be fully eliminated, however that
which remains should be monitored carefully and kept as humane as possible.
The humanity of testing had long been a concern for animal rights activists—the humanity
of exposing animals to pain and the humanity of confining those same animals to a life in a
laboratory. The regulation of these problems has fallen on the federal government. It is true, the
government has done much to advance the quality of life for animals; from the 1966 Lab Animal
Welfare Act and 1970 Animal Welfare Act, to the 1985 Health Research Extension Act, it has
established regulations for painless research and the inspection of labs on a regular basis (Breen 8).
Because of this, fewer animals are used every year and many are treated more kindly. However,
are these regulations doing enough? The sad truth of it is that some animals are still being tortured
needlessly, and, if caught, the persons involved are generally treated with leniency. Indeed, in the
majority of court cases, the court only rules against a human in the most shocking examples of
cruelty. Why only the most cruel? As Dave Weaner says, “Animals cannot and do not have the
same legal rights as humans.” Some, including such high ranking officials as Supreme Court
Justice William Douglas, have expressed hope that someday all forms of life will be protected under
the Constitution. For now, though, stronger government regulations on testing and harsher
punishments for violators would perhaps reduce the number of animals that die each year under
human cruelty.
At this point the question arises, “Why should we care?” Why should the human race be
bothered with testing on mere animals? After all, the book of Genesis itself states that humans
should, “...fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over all the living creatures that move on the earth.”
Does this mean that humans have a God-given right to do whatever they wish to animals? Of
course not. For example, if a human set a cat on fire for the fun of it, would that be morally
acceptable? Never. Why then should it be all right to kill an animal for medical or scientific
testing? Is a mouse who died for cancer research any less deserving of pity than a fiery feline?
Most would answer, “Yes, that mouse died for a noble cause, probably with little suffering.” Verily,
the death of a lab animal does have a purpose—human benefit—but the result is the same. Both
the cat and the mouse gave the only thing they had—their lives. Human beings have taken things
from animals since the beginning of time: food, clothes, and shelter, to name a few. By the same
token, animals have used one another, plants have used other plants, and even one celled protista
have used each other for survival. Therefore, some would say that if it is morally acceptable to kill
for food, it should be okay to use living beings to further human progress. However, the killing of
57

another creature for survival is in no way morally sound. It is no more right than shooting a man
in cold blood. From the human being hunting a hamburger in a McDonalds to a wolf hunting
caribou on the tundra, it is a necessary part of life. Life must kill to survive. As Jim Mahoney, an
animal researcher stated, “I do not think that human beings have a right to use animals in any
form...but we have a need and I can truly see no alternative.”
For centuries, philosophers have been debating the great moral question, “Do the ends
justify the means?” Do the benefits of animal testing outweigh the cost to individual animals? For
some, this is not a question; animals are inferior and therefore obviously humans outweigh them no
matter what. Why are animals necessarily inferior to humans, though? Is it intelligence? Some
primates that are used for testing demonstrate an intelligence on par with that of some humans. Is
it lack of technological skill? Chimpanzees use tools similar to those of remote African tribes.
Would testing on, say, a pygmy be acceptable? Never. The only reason that humans deem animals
inferior is because of a species bias (Dave Weaner Interview). “Humans are superior simply
because I am a human and therefore, they are better!” In short, humans use animals because they
can and because they find the tests too awful to implement on a member of their own species.
Therefore, in answering the question of do the ends justify the means, one must try to look at each
situation objectively. Pretend those are humans being tested upon and not a hamster or rabbit. If
the benefits of the test to life in general still outweigh the cost, if that test is necessary for one’s
survival, then there is no alternative. In these cases, testing is justified, as long as it is done as
humanely and as respectfully as possible. If the answer is no and if the test will probably bring no
advantage to life, then to carry out the test would be a waste of one or many lives and is
unacceptable.
The “great” philosopher Spock once asked, “Do the good of the many outweigh the good of
the few or the one?” Do the rights of humans to protect their own species overrule the rights of
animals to life? Unfortunately, as in every moral dilemma, there is no one concrete answer.
Progress is an inevitable part of human existence; it is the struggle against the earth, against the
natural laws, and against our very species—it is a struggle for survival. To survive it is necessary
to use whatever resources are available to do so, in this case, animals. New alternatives and
regulations have reduced the need and use of animals in experiments, but they remain and will
remain until humanity can find a better alternative. Testing is morally wrong, but in many cases,
unavoidable, and in these instances, the good of the many must come before the good of the few or
the one. True, animal testing has brought the human race many advances in the area of medicine
and technology, but the cost has been horrendous. The only solution to this moral dilemma of
necessity versus morality is to have compassion and judgement in what is really important for
survival. If every person showed compassion and respect for those animals which they must use,
only essential testing would be carried out with the same benefits to humans and fewer costs to the
animals involved. With each and every animal that must be harmed, look into their eyes and think,
in the words of another great philosopher, Sergeant Joe Friday, “What gives you the right to choose
when to end their life?” Look into their face and remember that always.
58

Works Cited
Breen, Bill. “Why We Need Animals.” Garbage April/May 1993: 38.
Cole, John R. “Animal Rights and Wrongs.” Taking Sides: Psychological Issues. Gilford:
Dushkin Publishing Group, 1996.
Lane, Stuart. “Banning Animal Testing May Be Hazardous to Your Health.” Priorities Spring 1989:
23.
Loeb, Jerod M. “Human vs. Animal Rights: In Defense of Animal Research.” Taking Sides:
Science, Technology, and Society. Gilford: Dushkin Publishing Group, 1996.
Oí Connor, Karen. Sharing the Kingdom. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart Lmt, 1984.
Regan, Tom. “Ill-Gotten Gains.” Taking Sides: Bioethical Issues. Gilford: Dushkin Publishing
Group, 1996.
Rohr, Janelle. Animal Rights: Opposing Viewpoints. NP: Greenhaven Press, 1989.
Weaner, Dave. Personal Interview. 22 March, 2000.
Whistler, Ann. Personal Interview. 24 March, 2000.
Zak, Steven. “Ethics and Animals.” Taking Sides: Science, Technology, and Society. Gilford:
Dushkin Publishing Group, 1996.
59

Scott Gruenbaum—A Response to a Text
The River of Choices
It is said that life is nothing more than an endless stream of choices. Every day before work
or school, we must all make choices—what to eat, what to wear, whether or not to bother with that
homework assignment—some of which are trivial, while others have the direst consequences. In
Shakespeare’s classic play Hamlet, the inner thoughts that accompany each decision, as well as the
quest for what is actually truth and what is lie, is brought to light in Act 2.2. Hamlet is caught in a
great struggle over what to do with his uncle, his evil, murderous uncle. By all rights he should
die...yet the easy choice—outright murder—is not always the correct or prudent one. Overall,
through diction and poetic devices, Shakespeare manages to convey a feeling of bitterness, an angry
yet doubtful tone that shows the turmoil of the inner mind of a complex character.
This angry tone is brought about to a great extent by the choice of diction. Hamlet’s
soliloquy is full of angry words; he refers to people of the wretched lower classes—whores, drabs,
and kitchen maids—as he curses his own cowardice. Strings of adjectives describing all sorts of
horrible sins are attached to the king as well as his own name. The king is a treacherous, kindless,
“bloody, bawdy villain!”
As Hamlet’s anger both at the king and himself radiates from the speech, so does his inner
confusion. There are two choices open to him—revenge or cowardice as he sees it. Shakespeare
uses words and ideas to remind the reader of this fact throughout. Hamlet refers to “heaven and
hell,” showing that Hamlet knows that only one course of action is just, yet he is in doubt. In the
passage, the devil is mentioned several times, both as a reason to kill the king, as well as a reason
to be cautious. Hamlet fears the devil “abuses me to damn me.” As with all choices, Hamlet’s has
a right and a wrong so to speak...yet it is not entirely clear which one is which, thus the source of
his doubt, and a source of his anger at himself.
Just as word choice and diction plays a part in setting the angry tone of Hamlet’s soliloquy,
so does Shakespeare’s extensive use of poetic devices. It is said that a good poem must have
agreement between structure and theme. Hamlet epitomizes this trait. The vast majority of the
passage, as with most of Shakespeare’s work, is in blank verse, that is, unrhymed iambic
pentameter. However, at certain points, the rhythm changes to emphasize important points. For
instance, in line 581, the pattern switches to trochaic as Hamlet lists a series of horrible words for
his uncle, and then leads into a 2 beat line as he screams for vengeance. There are also several
instances of caesuras breaking off thoughts and enjambments carrying on ideas, thus leading the
reader on a trip into Hamlet’s brain. For instance, when Hamlet finally realizes what it is he must
do, the thought stops mid-line. “I know my course.” Important ideas are thus emphasized and
brought out by meter and rhythm.
Shakespeare also uses several different poetic devices to again emphasize certain phrases,
as well as allow the speech to more easily flow. Internal rhyme in line 581, “Remorseless,
treacherous...villain!”, as well as a heroic couplet at the end of the act serve to bring out Hamlet’s
strong dislike for the king. In addition, the letter “h” is used extensively in lines 583- 587 to tie
together the opposing sides of Hamlet’s dilemma. The sounds of heaven and hell, whore and heart
60

show the conflict within the man and serve to bring out the theme of choices and the reality of the
situation. For, as Hamlet knows, the correct answer is not always apparent and all choices may
prove ill.
Just as the later part of the speech is an allusion to the actors in a play, so is Hamlet an actor,
unsure of what direction to head, unsure of what direction is really the correct way. Like every
human being, Hamlet is caught up in a choice—a grave and far more serious choice than what to
eat for lunch—but a choice nonetheless. Through diction and form, Shakespeare manages to bring
the tortured spirit, the angry yet doubtful mind, the horribly bitter soul of a man trapped in a choice
that he shouldn’t have to make, to life. He shows how we wrestle with the best and worst in every
choice and the uncertainty inherent in all important decisions. It is this theme that makes Hamlet
real. It is this...humanity that drives in the point. Life is full of options, some bad, some good, most
a mix of both. All we can do, like Hamlet, is do the best we can in each situation and wrestle with
the doubt when it comes.
Note: While the primary text referred to in the essay serves as the source for all quotations, a
complete citation in a “Works Cited” page is considered standard in academic writing. Please
include complete citations whenever primary and/or secondary sources are used.
61

Complete Portfolio—Camilla Hileman
Camilla Hileman’s creative cover letter opens with visuals that entice the reader to see
reading her portfolio as a journey of discovery. The metaphor carries into her description of the
fictional narrative and the way children view the world. The exploratory essay’s topic is concisely
summarized as prelude to stating her approach to it, a balanced one that will attempt to “candidly
analyze” the benefits and drawbacks. She makes clear her personal connection to the literary text
she responds to, which again is one based on a quest. And so the theme of writing as a voyage is
consciously maintained throughout the introductory letter. “Mama’s Journal,” the fictional
narrative, is a beautifully crafted, poignant look at spousal physical abuse that uses repetition and
the metaphor of a jungle to convey a child’s confusion and fear. Hileman creates a fictional scenario
again to open her exploratory essay, “The Human Genome Quandary,” but then moves smoothly
into a scientific and ethical discussion. Her response to Siddhartha, titled “The Illumination,”
analyzes the title character as prelude to locating herself as a seeker of simplicity and tranquility.
Overall, Hileman’s portfolio displays solid abilities in responding to a variety of prose tasks and
talent at crafting language to various effects.
62

Camilla Hileman—Reflective Letter
Dear Miami University Writing Professors,
When I close my eyes, I see a black abyss. If I squeeze tighter, the shadowed abyss has
splotches of yellow, cartwheeling from one side of the chasm to the other. Then the blackness
begins to glow. The darkness is illuminated by fiery fingers of red that smother the night. My closed
eyes are like a telescope, reflecting a convoluted image of an exploding meteoroid. The meteoroid
grows larger and clearer until I can detect a swirling flame of thoughts and beliefs shooting across
my mind. It is difficult to focus on a single idea because each thought ignites another thought to
form an endless chain of imagination. I cannot explain these thoughts to you. I cannot dissect the
mechanics of my mind. I can only offer you a glimpse of the darkness. It is my hope that you will
chase the darkness until you discover the light. Close your eyes. Let the journey begin.
My fictional narrative describes a crumbling family situation from the vantage point of a
young child. Children perceive the world through clear eyes. They see the truth that we can no
longer recognize. They recover the wisdom that we lost with our innocence. In “Mama’s Jungle,”
a child’s imagination is the frail barrier to a horrifying reality. When complications become too
complicated, circumstances are re-centered in a world the child understands. This short story
depicts the almost tangible love of a child and a mother as they struggle to retain hope for a
seemingly hopeless future.
I have also included an exploratory essay that closely examines the Human Genome Project.
The Human Genome Project is a scientific endeavor with two main aspirations. The direct goal of
this project is to pinpoint the precise location of every human gene. Scientists have successfully
mapped the position of each gene, thus accomplishing this element of the enterprise. The secondary
aim of the Human Genome Project is to identify the separate implications of each gene. Once the
gene is located, scientists attempt to decipher that particular gene’s function. This decoding process
is the current frenzy of many genetic specialists. My essay scrutinizes the possible effects of the
Human Genome Project. Although genetic advancement is generally viewed in a favorable light,
many ethical concerns nullify the brilliance of this project. I have elected to candidly analyze the
benefits and the shortcomings of this scientific exploit.
The fourth piece in my portfolio considers Siddhartha as a contemplative novel. Siddhartha
questions the human role on earth through a prevailing theme of Eastern spirituality. This novel is
closely connected to my own personal thoughts and ideas. I believe that all people embark upon a
quest at some point in their lives. My quest is just beginning, and I find it helpful to reflect on the
completed journey of another person. The character of Siddhartha is an inspiration to me, for I too
seek to clarify the surrounding world.
As my thoughts solidify into words, I urge you to continue on your journey. Continue the
quest. And please, enjoy ...
A Fellow Artist
63

Camilla Hileman—A Narrative or Short Story
Mama’s Jungle
It is midnight and a butterfly is trapped in my room. I see it fly over the ceiling and it hides
in my bookshelf. I think it got stuck between the books. I tiptoe across the room. I am very quiet.
But the butterfly isn’t there. I think the rabbit scared it away. A rabbit hops backward down my
walls. It’s a rabbit not a bunny. I don’t like bunnies. Only rabbits. Shhhh! He’s staring at me. I can
see into his eyes. He is a pink rabbit with blue polka dots and he asks me if he can pretty please
have a carrot. I have to tell him no because he already had his bedtime snack. I slide down under
the covers. It’s hot and sticky under there. Like a jungle. Sometimes I hide under there all by myself
so no one can find me. It’s dark. Sometimes the dark is so scary. When I’m in my jungle I can
change shapes. I become a bird and fly away. I hope the dark doesn’t get scary tonight.
Mama’s watching TV. I hear a hummy sound downstairs that means the TV is on. Mama
always watches TV at night. I like to cuddle in her arms and watch the TV too but I have to go to
bed. Mama says I’m tired but she doesn’t know that I don’t sleep in my room. I hide in the jungle
and I have to stay awake so that I can watch out for dragons. Dragons live in jungles. I have to be
careful when I’m in my jungle because a dragon might sneak up on me in the dark and then I’d be
scared but Mama couldn’t come to help me and I’d have to fight the dragon on my own but I’m
really brave. Mama tells me how brave I am but even Mama doesn’t know that I could fight a
dragon.
Mama’s still watching TV. The hummy noise helps me go to sleep. Sometimes I can’t hear
the hummy noise. I have to stay awake because it gets so loud. When it gets really loud I crawl
under the sheets but I can still hear Mama. I can hear Mama breathe. Sometimes Mama breathes
like I do when I’m under my sheets in my jungle. It’s hot in the jungle and hard to breathe. Maybe
Mama has a jungle too and that’s why she makes those short gaspy noises. Sometimes when I’m in
my jungle I can see the dragon. I have to hide and close my eyes so that the dragon can’t see me.
Maybe Mama closes her eyes too. I wonder if Mama has a dragon in her jungle.
I can’t hear the hummy noise anymore. It’s so loud. I wish Mama and I could watch TV
together. He’s so loud. I’ll protect Mama from the dragon. The dragon’s in my jungle again. I’m
afraid he’s going to hurt Mama. I can’t hear. It’s too loud. Mama’s in her jungle. I can hear her
breathing. Mama must have seen the dragon because she’s crying. He’s too loud. I squeeze my
pillow hard. I squeeze it over my head in the jungle. But I can still hear him. Mama’s crying. He’s
yelling. I’m breathing like Mama because it’s too loud and the dark is too scary and I squeeze my
pillow harder and I can still hear him screaming. I hear a crash against the wall. I think it was
Mama’s heart. I think he threw Mama’s heart against the wall.
I am quiet in my jungle. They don’t know that I am awake fighting dragons. They don’t
know that dragons live in jungles. Maybe Mama knows. Maybe Mama’s seen a dragon in her
jungle.
He’s coming. I can hear him. It’s all quiet now except for him. I can hear him banging on
the steps. He’s getting closer and closer. The dragon. But I’m really supposed to be sleeping. The
dragon doesn’t know I’m awake. He doesn’t know I’m awake. He thinks I’m sleeping. So the
64

dragon thunders by me. He doesn’t see me. I’m hiding behind a tree in my jungle. I’m hiding under
the sheets in my room. He doesn’t see me. I think Mama already fought the dragon. I don’t hear
Mama. I don’t know where she is. I can just hear the dragon. He’s roaring. He’s pounding on the
steps. I’m frozen in my jungle so he doesn’t see me. He doesn’t see me. The dragon stomps right
by me. And I hear a door slam. I think it’s safe. I think I can take the pillow off my head. I think I
can peek out of the covers. It’s not so dark anymore. I can here Mama breathing now. I think she’s
still stuck in her jungle.
I’m not tired. I was scared of the dragon but I’m not tired. I’m not tired. I can hear the
hummy sound. I’m not. It’s hard work hiding from a dragon. Mama isn’t breathing so hard and I
just hear the hummy. Hummmmm. It sounds like a bee in my jungle. But I conquered the jungle.
I’m a little sleepy. No I’m not tired.
It’s not so dark anymore. I’m in my room. There’s a bird outside my window. I think it’s a
mama bird singing to her baby birds. Sometimes I’m like a bird and I fly away but now I’m just
me. I’m just me in my room. I’m just me in my room with a mama bird outside my window. I
wonder if the baby birds are ever scared. I bet the mama bird gets scared sometimes. Sometimes I
get scared too but I’m brave.
My covers are warm and fuzzy. But I need to see Mama. I need to see if Mama escaped from
her jungle like me. I put my right slipper on my right foot and I put my left slipper on my left foot.
Sometimes I have to look at the slippers and see which side is bigger. I put my big toe in the big
side of the slipper. My slippers are warm and fuzzy too. Just like my covers. Sometimes there’s a
jungle underneath my covers that’s hot and sweaty. I tiptoe over to Mama’s room. Mama’s bed
covers are on the floor but I don’t know where Mama is. Mama’s soft pillow is ripped and there are
soft feathers in Mama’s soft pillow but there is still no Mama. Mama will be mad when she sees
that her soft pillow is broken.
I tiptoe downstairs because I can still hear the hummy. Mama is sitting in front of the TV.
Mama’s face is purple and blue and yellow like a rainbow. Mama looks beautiful. I crawl onto the
couch and sit on her feet. Mama moves and I can hear her breathing. Mama’s toenails are pretty
pink. Mama is so pretty. I slither like a snake along the couch and grab onto Mama’s neck. I cuddle
up in Mama’s arms. I kiss her face and it tastes salty like the salt that comes out of the blue can with
the girl and her twirly umbrella on the front. I kiss Mama again and her cheek tastes salty. Mama
opens her eyes.
Maybe Mama escaped from her jungle when she opened her eyes. I think Mama was stuck
in her jungle all night but I don’t know if she ever fought the dragon. I bet there was a fire-breathing
dragon in her jungle. And I bet Mama fought the dragon all night. Mama’s brave too. Maybe Mama
was stronger than the dragon. Maybe the dragon was stronger than Mama. Sometimes I have a
tough time finding my way out of the jungle. I hope Mama didn’t get lost in there.
I snuggle in between Mama’s arm and Mama’s heart. I can hear her heart beating. Thump
thump thump. Hummmmm. Thump thump thump. It’s warm next to Mama’s heart. But it’s not too
loud. Thump thump thump. The thumpy sound helps me go to sleep. My cheek is next to Mama’s
heart. Thump thump thump. It sounds like Mama’s running out of her jungle. And I’m waiting for
Mama here next to her heart with the hummy from the TV. I can still hear the mama bird singing
outside. Maybe Mama hears her too. Thump thump thump.
65

Camilla Hileman—An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay
The Human Genome Quandary
The man in the black suit solemnly steps out of the car. His wife scrambles to catch up with
his swift pace. She offers an encouraging tone or two, but the man doesn’t listen. He plunges
through the brass, a genetically altered combination of the common bush and grass species, both
eyes set on his house. The next-door neighbors dash over to interrogate the deserted wife. The
neighbors appear instantaneously in hot pink, plastic body suits, with tanks of oxygen attached to
their backs. (This elaborate outfit, for those who may not know, is a common protection against
identity impersonation. The decoding of the human genome inadvertently supplies criminals with
an ideal method to steal another person’s identity; identity thieves need only a single cell from a
person to detect everything about him or her. Body suits, in addition to setting a fashionable trend,
safe-guard against this possibility by trapping all cells within the suit itself.)
The wife struggles to suppress a deluge of tears as she warmly hugs her plastic encased
neighbors. She briefly relates the day’s events. Her husband lost the court case. He was accused of
harboring the gene for prostate cancer, and after a simple genetic test, the accusation was
confirmed. Her husband had twenty-four hours to move into a quarantined house, located in an
abandoned section of the city. He would live there indefinitely with other potential prostate cancer
victims. By isolating all people predisposed to prostate cancer, officials hope to eliminate prostate
cancer from the gene pool. The wife is purely devastated that reality is manifesting itself so harshly
in her life. The neighbors attempt to console her, but they are quite relieved to hear that she has an
upcoming appointment with the family genetic psychiatrist. The wife is in capable, experienced
hands.
Scientists have recently decoded the protein sequence of DNA. This discovery reveals an
array of possibilities. As a prospective scientist, I feel that the Human Genome Project is a
phenomenal accomplishment. This poignant knowledge will affect every single facet of science,
hopefully bouncing a cascade of innovations into motion. At the same time, I also worry about the
societal effects potentially caused by the decoding of the human genome. The opening vignette
described a few of my fears resulting from this late revelation.
Genetic testing will allow patients to be diagnosed immediately with a disease. Illnesses that
have a high survival rate when identified early may soon become obsolete. Patients with a genetic
predisposition for Alzheimer’s may take appropriate steps to keep their mind active. This approach
could delay disease symptoms or even prevent the illness. Genetic testing is destined to save lives.
As scientists and doctors become increasingly fluent in molecular genetics, the possibility
of genetic engineering is introduced. Scientists will soon be able to manipulate the protein bases of
DNA in order to decrease the genetic inclination of becoming afflicted with a certain disease. If
chromosome seven, for instance, has a severe aberration, doctors could tweak the genetic bases to
create a steady foundation for a healthy life.
Clearly the Human Genome Project implies many favorable outcomes, but it also launches
a complex ethical dilemma. People have unique combinations of genes that identify their
individuality. Similar to a fingerprint, no two people have the exact same genetic code for life.
66

When scientists revise this genetic code, every cell in the body transforms into a genetically altered
cell. This presents concerns that the physical, unique individual is lost and replaced by an ideal
genetic prototype. A prolonged life is clearly advantageous, but perhaps there should be limitations
to human longevity. Genetic engineering introduces the risk of discarding human individuality in
favor of a flawless prearranged archetype.
I also find myself concerned about the effects that the Human Genome Project will have on
unborn children. It is already possible to test a fetus for certain diseases, such as Down’s Syndrome.
Some parents choose to abort an unborn child on the basis of these tests. While everyone has
predetermined opinions regarding abortion, most people are able to sympathize with the parents
who face this quandary. Now imagine a mother and a father receiving the news that their child may
be born blind. Many blind persons live productive lives, but the parents may resolve to abort the
fetus. Possibly a genetic test confirms that the baby will not be smart. Perhaps the doctors detect
that the baby will be ugly. Genetic tests deem one child better than another. It can be difficult to
discern where exactly the comparisons should cease.
The Human Genome Project deserves to have a few cautious skeptics. A breakthrough of
this magnitude needs to be carefully examined before assimilated into our culture. Yet, at the same
time, this breakthrough has become the very epitome of engineering feats for mankind. My mixed
feelings parallel an exemplary quote from The Meaning of It All: Thoughts of a Citizen Scientist
by Richard Feynman. “Trying to understand the way nature works involves a most terrible test of
human reasoning ability. It involves subtle trickery, beautiful tight ropes of logic on which one has
to walk, in order not to make a mistake in predicting what will happen” (15).
Work Cited
Feynman, Richard P. The Meaning of It All: Thoughts of a Citizen Scientist. Reading:
Perseus Books, 1998.
67

Camilla Hileman—A Response To A Text
The Illumination
“Then he [Siddhartha] suddenly saw clearly that he was leading a strange life, that he was
doing many things that were only a game, that he was quite cheerful and sometimes experienced
pleasure, but that real life was flowing past him and did not touch him. Like a player who plays
with his ball, he played with his business, with the people around him, watched them, derived
amusement from them; but with his heart, with his real nature, he was not there” (Hesse 57-58).
Siddhartha journeys through a backward discovery of the Self. He begins life as a handsome
Brahmin’s son, admired and loved by family and friends. This life does not satisfy him, so he
continues his search for the Self. He becomes a poor ascetic who relinquishes the material comforts
of life. After many years, Siddhartha discovers that he cannot understand the Self by denying the
Self. He awakens his senses by indulging in life’s pleasures. Soon, however, he becomes dependent
on riches to give him happiness. The Self is buried underneath a burden of possessions. Success has
only blocked his journey. Siddhartha travels to a peaceful riverbank and listens to the sounds of the
water. The Self is quietly hidden in the voice of the river. The holy Om is bound to the Self and the
waters in an indistinct pattern of perfection. Time lapses as Siddhartha recognizes the river as both
the cause and culmination of his journey.
Siddhartha’s entire life is a quest for the Self. He is led down many paths before he discovers
the essence of true happiness and contentment. On his journey, he is blinded by superficial
pleasures. He is tempted to believe that he has discovered the Self, but he must continue his search.
Siddhartha is a novel that touches me deeply. I can see myself in the person of Siddhartha.
I also question the life I lead. I am strangled in the paradox of materialistic pleasure versus genuine
joy. Life is a continual struggle to appreciate simplicity. The mind can be entertained by an
elaborate design of electricity that forms fuzzy pictures on a twelve-inch screen. The Self can be
fulfilled by a pure rain that drops from the sky and drenches clothing. Yet, I have difficulty stepping
away from life’s diversions. It rains outside, but my face is illuminated by the artificial glow of the
TV.
Siddhartha is challenged by wealth. As an ascetic, the Self is starved from a lack of physical
necessities. As a rich man, Siddhartha’s life is overwhelmed with frivolous distractions. The Self is
only affirmed when the outer world is simplified. The ferryman alone learns this delicate balance
of needs and wants. At an old age, Siddhartha ultimately achieves an inner simplicity, an intimate
peace.
It is difficult for me to simplify my own life. I constantly find myself in a clutter of
obligations and promises, deferring one duty to accomplish another. I marvel at Siddhartha’s life as
a ferryman. I envy his moments of inner contemplation. “There shone in his [Siddhartha’s] face the
serenity of knowledge, of one who is no longer confronted with conflict of desires, who has found
salvation, who is in harmony with the stream of events, with the stream of life, full of sympathy and
compassion, surrendering himself to the stream, belonging to the unity of all things” (Hesse 111).
I emulate the tranquility of his life.
If I silently meditate about my life for a few moments, I can conjure up quite a few theories
68

for simplifying my own lifestyle. There is no natural philosophy that I can instantly apply to every
minute; I must persistently pledge effort and thought into each day. On Thursday evening, for
instance, I can sacrifice watching one “Friends” episode. Instead of resigning my mind to automatic
pilot, I can turn the TV off. With one interruption unplugged, I’m tempted to check my e-mail or
blare my favorite music, but I must leave behind these frivolities. When I follow through on my
initial efforts, I can always create a rare moment for myself. It takes dedication and perseverance
to willingly remove myself from life’s distractions; yet, when I conquer my tendency toward
possessions, I find that the subsequent harmony is extremely rewarding.
Siddhartha journeyed his entire life to discover the Self when he could have uncovered the
Self anywhere. Sometimes Siddhartha neglected to open his eyes. As I travel on life’s path, I must
remember to be present to the moment, lest I too forget to remain vigilant.
Work Cited
Hesse, Hermann. Siddhartha. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1951.
69

Complete Portfolio—Pamela Spellman
Pamela Spellman’s reflective letter displays wit as she recalls her educational experience to
date and thinks about how her writing developed from imitation of her favorite authors’ prose styles
to her own unique voice. She describes herself as a piece of iron that was “hammered at from every
side” until her “true mettle became known.” Although she does not individually introduce all the
subsequent pieces in the portfolio, she does clearly establish herself as a serious writer and, via
discussion of her particular voice, as their author. Her narrative, “Perceptions of Heroism,” is an
inventive look at a brief episode from two differing perspectives, an outside observer and the firstperson
participant, and as such cleverly explores the subjectivity of the human experience. Her
persuasive essay criticizes the ethnocentricity of American society, offering a barrage of statistics
and using both outside sources and personal observation in an effective attempt to wake up the
reader and urge global awareness. Spellman’s response to a text, “Greater Expectations,” uses Alice
in Wonderland as an entree for analyzing the realism of Madame Bovary in a way that shows
Flaubert to be critical of romanticism as “misplac[ed] in a cacophonous and uncomplimentary
world.” Her quotation in this essay nicely illustrates her criticism of Emma’s absurd romantic
notions and lack of introspection. Throughout the portfolio, Spellman’s flowing prose and diction
are additional evidence of her abilities as a writer who can proficiently execute a variety of prose
tasks.
70

Pamela Spellman—Reflective Letter
Educational experts should really look into the merits of dissolving that awful institution
they call Junior High. The “Great Setback,” as I have termed it, dropped me after two years of
social inadequacy and educational boredom into the quagmire they call (similarly uninspiring) High
School. Yet it was in this new fortress of bomb-shelter brick and mortar that I began to recover
from the trauma of my middle school experience, and truly find myself. Though not exactly “soul
searching” (I would never openly admit to anything so cliché), I was growing up, and my writing
tended to parallel my maturation.
Always an avid reader, my writing style up until 3 years ago basically mirrored the styles of
authors I had read. My vocabulary was limited to what I’d seen in my books, my style, in effect,
borrowed from Dickens (a favorite) and other less distinguished authors (namely Babysitter’s Club
writers that need never be made mention of again). Yet this borrowed style was enough to appease
the apathy of teachers who were simply happy that there were words on a page, and that the pages
were free from the usual debris of red Kool-Aid stains and eraser markings.
It was not until a rude awakening, in the form of a rather frisky red-headed English teacher,
that I truly had to apply myself in writing. More assignments than I had before seen in a year were
weekly dropped in my lap with a smile and a flounce. Junior year I lived as one already in
college…sleeping through or skipping unimportant classes in order to write papers for the
important ones, drinking coffee and learning to love the wee hours of the morning for the quiet they
instilled. Being forced to write detailed papers twice a week, each on different literary works, my
sickly sweet imitation of a style slowly gave way to a sardonic and sometimes mocking tone that
was hardly avoidable considering my sleep-depraved, thus nearly drunken state. Yet, like a
stubborn piece of iron, I was hammered at from every side until my true mettle became known.
Finally, as I was nearing the end of that chapter in my life, thanking the gods of coffee and
spell-check for allowing me to survive the two most academically rigorous years of my life, the
pieces of my identity suddenly fell into place in my writing. Where before I had subdued them,
sarcastic parentheticals became rather common in my non-formal essays just as sardonic literary
observations seemingly interwove themselves into my formal writings. By simply reading the first
paragraph of any of my essays, a fellow student could usually name me the author. At the first sour
comments about Anna Karenina or Emma Bovary’s untimely deaths (as they were entirely too long
about the business in my opinion), or my first sentence of praise for Flaubert’s realism, a finger
would lift to point at me in either accusation or agreement. Either way I was content. I had found
my voice…and now, despite the all-too-familiar taste of toes on the tongue, I’ll never quiet it again.
71

Pamela Spellman—A Narrative or Short Story
Perceptions of Heroism
The smell of ammonia drifts to the nostrils accompanied by the waves of laughter and overloud
conversation that constantly assault one’s ears in a cafeteria setting. Socially and behaviorally
(mentally?) impaired, though amusedly tolerated; Al, a theatre boy, begins to lean awkwardly upon
a girl at a table. A voice sounds above the din like a clarion bell, “Al’s having a seizure!” Time
stops. Al slides to the floor as his companions remove dangerous objects from his path. Tables and
chairs are flung aside with abandon to preserve Al’s safety. Directions come from every corner.
“Don’t touch him, he’ll go into shock!” “Roll him on his side!” “Keep his head from hitting
anything!”
Quick to react, one girl steps forward from the crowd and takes control of the situation.
Preventing Al from further injury by grabbing both sides of his head, the brave young senior moves
with the seizing boy, fighting to hold him steady. She does not cry nor do anything but instruct a
teacher to “YES, call an ambulance.” Al thrashes, not breathing, upon the white speckled linoleum.
The teachers come, a large man begins CPR while the girl remains benevolent, in a matronly
position, kneeling and cradling Al’s head in the cushion of her palms. Through it all she does not
look up, even when spurts of blood from Al’s mouth reach her face and eyes, that blood built up
within his orifice gurgling and geysering with each push of the teacher’s fists into his lungs. She
does not turn from her grisly heroic task, though her arms shake from restraining and then
supporting Al’s head, as she calmly reassures others that it will be all right. After seeing Al safely
away with the EMTs, she takes only a few moments to collect herself, then, claiming no credit,
continues on through her day.
The smell of ammonia drifts to my nostrils accompanied by the waves of laughter and overloud
conversation that constantly assault my ears in the cafeteria setting. Al, our clique’s socially
and behaviorally impaired, though amusedly tolerated, companion begins to lean awkwardly
toward a girl at my table, his face turned away. Readying myself to deliver an admonishment for
his strange behavior, my lips turn downward in a frown. I feel it is my duty to be the motherly
figure towards Al since he is often influenced to do inappropriate things (such as writing KKK on
his jeans at the urging of others, not understanding what it represented). Before I can utter my
condescending, motherly remark, a voice sounds above the din, like a clarion bell, “Al’s having a
seizure!” Time stops. Al slides to the floor as my friends fling aside tables and chairs with abandon
to preserve Al’s safety. Directions come from every corner. “Don’t touch him, he’ll go into shock!”
“Roll him on his side!” “Keep his head from hitting anything!”
I have absolutely no idea what to do. The third order seeming the only reasonable one, I
grab Al’s head on either side by his ears and attempt to hold him still, all the while slightly disgusted
by the sight of his purpling face. His mouth is contorted into a Halloween mask’s scream, his hands
rigid in claws. The sight of his white chapped lips and emerging drool contrasting against the
splotched bruise-colored canvas of his face causes hot bile to rise in my throat. My arms shake with
the effort of holding him during his convulsions, and I tell (myself) everyone that he is going to be
okay, and to get help.
72

Help comes in the form of a bulky science teacher who begins to pump Al’s chest. It is a
curious thing, but our science department is rather bulky, they having been recruited to coach one
sport or another. Even more deplorable than this practice is the fact that I actually think this while
Al’s blood is coming out of his mouth in spurts, rhythmically correlating to the pumping of his
chest. He spits blood in my eye. It stings slightly. I have to blink.
The seizure subsides, and all is still. Slowly I slide my blood slickened hands out from
between the cold floor and Al’s fevered head. His eyes pop open for an instant, wild-eyed and
panicky, like an animal’s until they rest on me, the lone familiar face in the crowd. And out of my
mouth come the words, “It’s okay Al, you just get to lie down for a while, you get to rest here,”
stated in that patronizingly mothering tone. Finally I tear my gaze from Al’s prone figure to see—
no one. The sterile walls of the cafeteria stare back at me.
Feeling, not heroic, but disgusting, my first thought is to cleanse myself. Running to the
bathroom, the antiseptic soap and hygienic water distill my memory. Normally I faint at the sight
of blood, funny, but that had occurred to me too during Al’s seizure. I continue on to Chemistry
class.
Sitting there taking down electron arrangements, it perversely occurs to me that I could use
this episode as a topic for my personal essay, after all, aren’t personal traumas the common fodder
for moving essays? A friend slaps me on the back, congratulating me on my “heroism.” Inwardly,
a coward contemplates the bulky science teacher.
73

Pamela Spellman—An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay
In recent years, terms such as “Global community,” “globalization,” and “global awareness”
have seemed to roll off the tongues of every newscaster, advertiser, and politician with such ease
that the popular phrases have nearly become cliché. With the Internet now possessing a rather
prominent role in life and with communications faster than ever, it would seem the world’s rapid
progress toward international relations necessitates such terminology. However, in America, these
optimistic clichés possess a seed of hypocrisy, a false note that clangs discordantly to disturb the
practiced cadence of the telecaster’s report. It is not that America does not “Think globally,” but
rather that, to many Americans, America is the extent of their terrestrial sphere.
Yet even within the confines of our own country-world, we don’t shed our comfortable, selfimposed
boundaries. We don’t see the growing Hispanic and Asian populations in our midst,
viewing them—if we acknowledge them at all—as invaders in our world. According to Census
2000, 35,305,818 people of Hispanic or Latino origin inhabited the United States in the year 2000,
nearly 13 million more than in 1990. The census revealed the growth rate among the Hispanic
population of the U.S. to be the greatest out of any of the minorities at a surprising 57.9%, and the
growth of America’s Asian population to be the second fastest, growing at 48.3% in that single 10-
year period (U.S. Census Bureau, Table 4). If the trend of the past decade continues, in two years,
the Hispanic population will be the largest minority in the U.S, with Asians making up a larger
portion of our population as well. Will we then take notice? Or will we still not offer Asian
languages in our high schools, and insist that learning Spanish is merely “beneficial?”
Our ethnocentricity is apparent in our everyday doings, in our ignorance of some things, and
in our ignoring of others. In our school systems, our history books say little of the rise of Asia or
the early African kingdoms. Only one year of world history is required in most high schools.
Robert B. Woyach, writing for the ERIC Digest (Educational Resources Information Center—a
division of the U.S. Department of Education) rather succinctly sums up the argument supporting
world history versus Western-dominated history in secondary education.
We live in a world no longer dominated by the West. Increased immigration from
Asia and Latin America has added new sources of diversity to culture in the United
States. To the extent that the study of Western civilization encourages a narrow
ethnocentrism, it may prove dysfunctional in preparing students for life in the future.
(Woyach, Online)
Thus we charitably avoid encumbering our youth with too many distracting languages and bogging
them down with the events of the world. How is it we claim or expect to “think globally” when we
know nothing of the rest of the world?
Where our primary education may have let us down, we might think to regain knowledge
and awareness of the world beyond our borders through the media of today. With technology as it
is, we can receive report immediately of events happening on the opposite end of the earth.
Nevertheless, with all our vaunted technology, we simply don’t bother. It is, as I know from
personal experience, rather difficult to find world news that spans more than a 15-minute block out
of an hour-long newscast, and world news definitely doesn’t occupy any of our precious prime-time
74

viewing which is instead ruled by predictable sitcoms and drama series. I often must turn to CNN
or, even more desperately, to the weak transmissions of National Public Radio to hear of even the
most important of happenings in other countries. Mainstream viewers are left entirely in the dark
and applaud and cement their ignorance through persistently high ratings. While America watches
“Alley McBeal,” the inauguration of our president is being broadcast prime time in Germany and
Spain.
To be a world leader, America must be both a part of the world and aware of it. If we
continue to be idle and wallow in our comparative ignorance, we will soon find we are being left
out of our most beloved cliché. Were the U.S. ever to fall from its current political and economic
power, the global community might soon choose to ignore its reclusive neighbor. Until we open our
blinds and our eyes to the outside world, we will never be able to expand our horizons. Until we
expand our horizons, we shan’t realize the promise of a true “global community.”
Works Cited
U.S. Census Bureau, Population Division. “Population by Race and Hispanic or Latino
Origin for the United States: 1990 and 2000 (PHC-T-1).” Available Online. Last updated:
April 03, 2001 at 02:19:24 PM. http://blue.census.gov/population/www/cen2000/
phc-t1.html. Table 4. [Accessed 6/3/2001].
Woyach, Robert B. “World History in the Secondary School Curriculum.” ERIC Clearinghouse
for Social Studies/Social Science Education. Bloomington, Indiana. Available Online.
Last Updated 1989-09-00 (SIC) http://navigation.helper.realnames.com/framer/1/112/
default.asp?realname=Department+of+Education&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Eed%2
Egov%2F&frameid=1&providerid=112&uid=30012423. [Accessed 6/3/2001].
75

Pamela Spellman—Response to a Text
Greater Expectations
In the story of Alice in Wonderland we follow Alice down a rabbit hole into a land of pure
wonder, where the logic of a little girl holds no sway. In Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, we
witness exactly the opposite as Emma Bovary, a most romantic creature, is purposely cast into a
harshly realistic world. In either case, a creature is put into an environment unnatural to her
disposition, yet in Flaubert’s example, Emma shares the world we inhabit, and thus the message her
story brings is much more pertinent. To convey this message, Flaubert replicates not a world of
fantasy, but rather the real world, with all its joy, sadness, and occasional monotony intact. Then
he proceeds to dump an exaggeratedly sentimental woman, Bovary, with the training, appearance,
and expectations of an heiress, into the common mire and leave her there to flounder in the reality
of middle class life as a farmer’s daughter. From Madame Bovary’s reactions within this realistic
situation, and from the novel’s outcome, a message is rendered concerning romanticism itself, and
its misplacement in a cacophonous and uncomplimentary world.
Lewis Carroll may have created a whole new world for his Alice to explore, but Flaubert
had the harder job. He had to replicate the world that everyone knows, taking time to explore the
very details that make this world real and tangible. Whether it be dust accumulating on furniture,
everyday people plodding through mud to get to work, or nagging mothers, Flaubert details images
and impressions that most overlook, but which truly constitute reality. Emma tries her best to
ignore this reality, but it confronts her insistently, reminding her daily of all the things she deems
inadequacies.
But it was especially at mealtimes that she felt she could bear her life no longer, in
that little room on the ground floor with its smoking stove, squeaking door, sweating
walls and damp stone floor. All the bitterness of life seemed to be served up to her
on her plate, and as the steam rose from the boiled meat, waves of nausea rose from
the depths of her soul. (Flaubert 58)
This image and atmosphere of mundane imperfection is a far cry from what Emma expects after
reading the romantic novels she smuggled in at the convent. From those foppish texts she gathers
the impression that ladies such as she should be “lolling on carriages” or “dreaming on sofas,” or
perhaps embracing some dashing “young man in a short cloak” (Flaubert 32). Yet such is not the
reality in which she lives.
Flaubert adds to his stark images the homey atmospheres and settings of the provincial
towns in which Emma lives, places which by their very simplistic natures are anathema to a
romantic such as Bovary. It is only through Emma’s depiction of these villages that they are cast
as mundane and drab. Though the image exists of the small and backward town with its town
gossips and town idiot, it can be seen that it is simply a town, one in which a person can be
content—that is, if she is not the always-unfulfilled Emma Bovary. Thus the setting and the
stereotypical characters add to the realistic atmosphere that confronts Emma.
Into the midst of this hodgepodge of unflattering images and commonalties, Flaubert then
tosses Emma and Charles. To Emma, Charles is representative of everything dull and gross in the
76

world and Emma “resented his steadfast calm, his serene dullness…” (Flaubert 35). Charles serves
as the microcosm of the reality Emma abhors, and is an integral part of the atmosphere Emma is
forced into. Emma, on the other side of the looking glass, is the ultimate romantic. Having the
background and demeanor of one of higher station, she believes she deserves wealth, passion, and
adventure, and is thus disappointed at every turn. In her delusional preconceptions, Emma believes
“Love…ought to come all at once, with great thunderclaps and flashes of lightning” (Flaubert 87).
Not finding this with Charles, she seeks out lovers to find passion. Beyond this, she borrows her
family into debt to find wealth and thinks up various pastimes and tragedies to occupy her need for
adventure, all the while ignoring the potentially fulfilling circumstances she lives in. She
romantically believes that happiness is something externally attainable, something that is found or
given, and therefore ignores what she already possesses.
It seemed to her that certain parts of the earth must produce happiness like a plant
indigenous to that soil and unable to flourish anywhere else. If only she could lean
over the balcony of a Swiss chalet, or enclose her melancholy in a Scottish cottage,
with a husband wearing a long black velvet cloak, a sugar-loaf hat and fancy cuffs!
(Flaubert 35)
Emma surrounds herself with opulence and lovers at the expense of her family’s credit and honor,
and still dreams of a better life, completely discounting her current one. It is this very refusal to
accept and face reality that leads to her downfall, and Flaubert’s true warning.
As is always the case, one cannot escape reality forever, and because of her refusal to face
reality, Emma ignores her accruing debt and eventually impoverishes her family. She neglects her
only child, and is abandoned by her lovers. Ultimately, Emma is driven to suicide after stooping to
the lowest point possible, virtually to prostitution, to deal with her problems, financial and
otherwise. Yet even in suicide, she cannot obtain the romantic end she desires, but instead weathers
a lengthy, painful, and ugly death.
Through the plight of Lewis Carroll’s Alice, we learn to appreciate reality. Yet from the
downfall of the romantic Madame Bovary—while within the very reality and dimension in which
we live—we can deduce a lesson Flaubert himself learned the hard way. As Flaubert realized in
becoming the realist he was renowned to be in his later years, the ultimate romantic has no place in
a realistic society, and being such a romantic, Bovary is doomed to unhappiness. So, just like the
symbolic blind man who reappears at the moment of her death, Emma progresses through life, and
eventually dies, blind to the real beauty around and within her because of her romantic notions.
Even in the end she searches externally for the source of her unhappiness.
But what was making her so unhappy? Where was the extraordinary catastrophe
that had wrecked her life? She raised her head and looked around, as though trying
to find the cause of her suffering. (Flaubert 149)
Thus without ever realizing the actual joys of motherhood, marriage, or life, Madame Bovary,
convulsing, gurgles her last life’s breath; a most ignoble, and unromantic, end.
Work Cited
Flaubert, Gustave. Madame Bovary. Trans: Lowell Bair. New York: Bantam Books, 1972.
77

2001 Scoring Guide for Portfolios
A portfolio consists of four equally important pieces of prose writing. Each portfolio is read
holistically by at least two English instructors; each gives a single comprehensive score on a sixpoint
scale (“6” is high; “1” is low). What follows are two lists: one highlights characteristics of
effective portfolios; the other offers a more specific scoring scale used by readers. In determining
a single score, readers assess the quality of a portfolio as a whole and do not average the four pieces.
Characteristics of Effective Portfolios
The following list, in no particular order, represents some of the features of effective student
writing that were most often mentioned during the portfolio committee meetings:
• Develops pieces fully and substantially.
• Uses language imaginatively and effectively.
• Shows when appropriate by creating scenes, using dialogue and interior monologue when
appropriate.
• Supports assertions and generalizations with evidence, examples, and details.
• Recognizes complexities in issues and positions.
• Explores larger social or cultural aspects.
• Demonstrates an awareness of audience.
• Writes with purpose, consistency, and focus.
• Engages readers: pieces are at least occasionally moving or powerful.
• Demonstrates awareness of global/local organization appropriate for the writing task.
78

2001 Scoring Scale
Your portfolio will be scored by readers using the following scale:
Upper Range Portfolios
6 range: Excellent portfolios. These portfolios’ many significant strengths outweigh their
weaknesses. Excellent portfolios encompass the characteristics of very good (5-range) portfolios
but also display other strengths. They convincingly demonstrate the writer’s ability to handle
varied writing tasks successfully, and the writing is substantially developed, often moving beyond
the predictable and clichéd in approach, style, or subject matter.
5 range: Very Good portfolios. These portfolios’ strengths clearly outweigh their
weaknesses. Very good portfolios show an awareness of audience, and show substantial
development of ideas often by integrating evidence, examples, and details to support assertions and
generalizations. Very good portfolios successfully demonstrate the writer’s ability to handle varied
writing tasks.
Middle Range Portfolios
4 range: Good portfolios. These portfolios’ strengths outweigh their weaknesses. Good
portfolios articulate a purpose and provide moments of sustained exploration of a question through
the use of evidence. Compared to competent portfolios (3-range), good portfolios (4-range)
demonstrate more awareness of global/local organization appropriate for the writing task and more
consistent evidence of the writer’s ability to handle varied writing tasks.
3 range: Competent portfolios. These portfolios’ strengths and weaknesses are about
evenly balanced. Competent portfolios demonstrate some awareness of global/local organization
appropriate for the writing task. Evidence of the writer’s ability to handle varied writing tasks is
uneven. Some pieces may be too brief, underdeveloped, general or predictable, but the language
use is generally competent. Competent portfolios (3-range), unlike lower range portfolios, show
some awareness of audience.
Lower Range Portfolios
2 range: Fair portfolios. These portfolios’ weaknesses outweigh their strengths. There is
little evidence of the writer’s ability to handle varied writing tasks successfully. Fair portfolios are
usually thin in substance and undistinguished in style although they may be clear and error free.
1 range: Poor portfolios. These portfolios’ many weaknesses clearly outweigh their
strengths. Poor portfolios may lack development and/or evidence of effective global and local
organization. Poor portfolios may have substantial grammatical errors that impede reading. Focus
may be unstated and/or unclear.
79

Guidelines for Using Non-Sexist Language
Language not only reflects the world around us but also conditions or shapes people’s thoughts and
attitudes. In other words, when we write or speak, we’re actually doing things to our audience—
pleasing them, amusing them, informing them, or perhaps hurting them—not simply expressing our
thoughts. The fact that words can harm readers demands that we, as writers, be responsible for what
we say and how we say things. Realizing this, most of us have already rid our vocabularies of
offensive language that labels people on the basis of race, ethnic origin, and sexual orientation—
words we know are painful. But our language still contains conventions that in more subtle ways
can be as hurtful as those obviously vulgar words.
This is particularly true in the area of gender, where we can do harm without even realizing it. For
instance, if we use the pronouns he, his, or him to stand for both men and women, if we use man
to stand for all human beings, or if we label people as mailmen or chairmen regardless of their
gender, we are making an unfair and harmful distinction. By not being aware that even seemingly
insignificant parts of our language like the use of pronouns have social implications, we trivialize
and make irrelevant the existence and contributions of half of humanity. In an age when roles are
changing rapidly, when women are becoming doctors, scientists, farmers, and athletes, and when
men work as elementary school teachers, nurses, and secretaries, we need to make sure that we
neither intentionally nor unintentionally exclude anyone with our language. Eliminating sexist
language may not eliminate biased conduct, but it can create greater possibilities for women and
men to share equally active and caring roles in our society.
Thus we consider it inappropriate to use sexist language in papers written for composition classes.
In this policy, the English Department is following the guidelines used in all Miami University
publications, as well as in professional journals in most academic fields. Organizations such as the
National Council of Teachers of English, and the Modern Language Association have required the
use of non-sexist language in their publications for more than a decade.
Here are some ways you can avoid accidentally transmitting sexually-biased messages
along with the messages you mean to send.
I. Avoid the pronoun problem by using plurals in sentences.
Examples:
Give each student his paper
as soon as he asks for it.
Anyone who wants to eat dinner
should wash his hands.
Alternatives:
Give students their papers
as soon as they ask for them.
All who want to eat dinner
should wash their hands.
80

II.
Eliminate words which cause unnecessary gender problems.
Examples:
Alternatives:
A nurse must take care of her patients. A nurse must take care of patients.
Every person has a right to ask his Every person has a right to ask
question and to voice his opinion questions and voice opinions.
III. Use inclusive nouns.
Examples:
mankind
chairman
businessman, fireman
mailman
Alternatives:
humanity, human beings, people,
humankind
coordinator, moderator, presiding
officer, head, chair, chairperson
business executive, fire fighter,
mail carrier
IV.
Use alternatives to phrases which demean or stereotype women.
Examples:
Alternatives:
lady lawyer, woman doctor
lawyer, doctor
career girl, lady
professional, woman
authoress, poetess
author, poet
Have your mother send cookies Have your parents send cookies
the field for the field trip.
for the field trip.
While lunch was delayed, the While lunch was delayed, the women
ladies chattered about last night’s talked about last night’s meeting.
meeting.
81

Advice from Portfolio Scorers
Each year, portfolio readers at Miami read hundreds of portfolios. And each year at the end
of the scoring sessions, we ask those readers to evaluate their responses to the portfolios they have
read and to offer advice to students who are compiling portfolios in hopes of receiving credit from
Miami University. What follows here is a summary of the evaluators’ remarks and thoughts from
the last two years.
Your Audience
Evaluators this year follow previous evaluators in indicating that a clear aim and sense of
audience are the two most important features of a successful portfolio. In fact, the majority of
remarks from instructors this year emphasize that while students need to show mature and insightful
thinking and writing, they should also present themselves naturally, not artificially. Evaluators
suggest that students should not be afraid to use “I,” and that “their own voice(s) and opinions
should not be drowned by research.” We have recommended in the past, and we continue to
encourage you to “write as yourself,” not as the student you think college professors want you to
be. We look for evidence that you think about how you fit into the world, about how issues you
write about relate to your personal situations (social, racial, gendered, economic, regional,
religious, etc.).
Instructors suggest repeatedly:
“Consider your audience. We’re real people who can see through stereotypical and
clichéd arguments. We appreciate critical thinking and self-awareness in each piece,
not just description.”
Raters are interested in what you think and see and how you see those things in relation to broader
issues and concerns. Evaluators tell students to “think about how the pieces you write connect, and
talk about them as a whole, not just as random pieces.” Also, “think seriously about ambiguities,
feelings, and problems. Revise, rewrite and show that you are thinking about your audience.”
The readers at Miami are diverse in age, teaching experience, interests, and tastes. While we
range from experienced graduate students to tenured professors, we are all interested in students
and spend quite a bit of time reading and evaluating college writing. When we score the portfolios
submitted to us, we develop a set criteria that describes the qualities we value in writing (See
Scoring Guide). Before completing your portfolio, you should spend time reading your work with
the scoring criteria in mind. While we make changes from year to year, the major criteria remain
the same, and you should be familiar with them.
82

Specific Suggestions from Portfolio Scorers
While you should keep audience and aim in mind as you develop your portfolio, you will benefit
as well from more specific advice and suggestions our raters offer below.
1. The importance of the reflective letter: The most common pieces of advice our raters suggest
concern the reflective letter. This initial piece is obviously an important part of the portfolio,
much more that just a basic, impersonal cover letter. Part of what we mean when we say
“reflective” is that we want you to situate yourself for your readers—in terms of how you
perceive your own writing, and, most importantly, why you perceive it the way you do. One
rater insists, “Give much more attention to the reflective letter. It should be REFLECTIVE
(many were not) and interesting,” and “go beyond simple summary of what is in the collection.
Reflect on how the pieces reveal something about you as a writer and how they are connected.”
The reflective letter sets the tone for the whole portfolio and creates a first and lasting
impression. Think about what reflection involves—not just including details about who you are
and how you write but also about how and why your background and environment have affected
what you write. Many successful letters strike a balance between confidence and humility; many
show awareness of strengths and limitations, as well as awareness that writing has consequences
(beyond getting credit for English at Miami).
2. Use the full 12-page allotment: We strongly urge you to take full advantage of the 12-page limit
and develop your pieces fully. All raters notice whether or not a student’s portfolio has enough
“substance.” With this in mind, we ask that students use the page limit and make it work.
Portfolios that are five or six pages long are not fully developed, and do not demonstrate fully
your talent as a writer. Longer portfolios offer analysis and discuss the complexity of issues.
Brief portfolios rarely get a high score because they can’t fully develop, support, and sustain a
writer’s position.
3. Develop with specific detail: Use many details, examples, and illustrations to develop and
explain your points. Instructors prefer concreteness to vagueness and showing to telling. When
appropriate, use dialogue and narrative examples and scenes to help develop your work. As one
rater suggests, “Look at a lot of examples in The Best of Miami University’s Portfolios and try
to figure out why they are good pieces. Usually, it’s not because of the topic but because of how
the writer develops the topic.”
4. Content and style should suit audience and aim: Be aware of “big issue” topics and make sure
you can discuss them in a way that is focused and thoughtful. A reader is less likely to be
enthusiastic about the 26th paper on abortion or Hamlet unless it has a fresh angle. Also, when
using outside sources, work from your own viewpoint instead of simply retelling other peoples’
ideas. If you use outside sources, be sure to include a Works Cited page, so readers know that
you know how to give appropriate credit to other writers when you use their ideas.
83

5. Be creative: Don’t be afraid to experiment. Include pieces in a variety of styles if possible.
Raters say, “forget formulas” emphasizing that “a good five-paragraph theme has no greater
chance than a good paper with any other structure... Life is too short to cram into five
paragraphs!” Several raters have mentioned that they want a writer to “take chances, use
humor—show different sides of yourself! Take time to ask yourself: ‘How can I make this more
interesting? More engaging?’ and then take time to revise. No one wants to be bored.” If you
do decide to be creative and take some risks with your writing, it would be a good idea to explain
such aspects of your writing in your cover letter.
6. Revise your portfolio carefully: Most professional writers see revision as going well beyond
changing words and correcting grammar. Give yourself plenty of time to spend reading and rereading
your work, thinking of ways to offer fresher examples and more compelling arguments.
Revising also means considering your audience: “Go over your pieces and ‘re-see’ them for this
audience and situation.”
7. Appearance and correctness count: Of course content is most important, but after taking the
time to do the writing, you need to spend time polishing and correcting the work. Use both spell
check and get a trusted person to proofread. Give pieces titles, number pages, and use a legible,
plain typeface or font (we recommend Times New Roman). Full portfolios in italics or long
narrow fonts are difficult to read, and anything smaller than 10 pt. is also extremely hard to read.
Remember: use a readable point size: 12 pt. (depending on the font) is best. Double-spacing is
standard, as are one-inch margins on all sides of the page.
84

Frequently Asked Questions
Can I send one single paper that fulfills the requirements for a narrative or story, an
explanatory/exploratory/persuasive essay and a response to a text?
Yes. Some teachers assign writing to students that is “multi-genre” and that fulfills many of the
expectations we have of the separate pieces we ask you to submit. If you have such a “multi-genre”
paper, it must be substantial enough to fulfill all the content requirements for the portfolio.
If you choose to submit a multi-genre paper in place of separate papers, we ask the following:
• Explain your choice in your reflective letter. Tell us what specific required genres your paper
fulfills, making sure to follow the instructions for the letter (found in the brochure) asking you
to reflect critically on your choices for the portfolio as well as on the purpose and audience
for your multi-genre paper, as you would for any other papers you submit in your portfolio.
• Make certain to follow appropriate in-text and bibliographic procedures for all the papers in
your portfolio in which you use others’ ideas or refer to outside sources.
• Be sure to follow the “essential instructions” listed in the brochure for both portfolios (such
as including drafts for both portfolios, removing all identifying information, staying within
page number limits, writing your social security number on each page, etc).
What exactly does the brochure instruction to “properly document” sources mean? Do
bibliographic pages count in my page number limit?
To properly document your use of someone else’s words or ideas, you must both cite your source
in your paper, at the end of each quotation or paraphrase what you take from a source, and provide
full bibliographic documentation on a separate page at the end of each paper in which you use other
sources. To be consistent in your documentation, you will need to follow one specific citation
style—such as MLA, APA, or Chicago—throughout each paper. English departments typically use
MLA style, but you can use other styles, as long as you do so consistently. Requirements for each
of the styles listed above can be found online, or in individual style manuals or general writing
manuals (such as Diana Hacker’s A Pocket Style Manual) available in most retail bookstores or
college textbook stores.
Bibliographic pages do NOT count in the 12-page limit for the portfolio. So if your portfolio ends
up being 14 or 15 pages long, for example, because of your end-page documentation, but the actual
text of the papers you submit totals 12 pages or less, then your portfolio falls within the maximum
page limit. Do not leave out the bibliographic pages because they put your portfolio over 12 pages.
85

What’s the difference between a “traditional” reflective letter and a “creative” one?
A “traditional” reflective letter more-or-less takes the form of a personal letter of introduction,
which is structured as a typical formal letter: it opens with a greeting; moves to a brief introduction
of the writer and his or her talents; offers reflective information about each of the works included
(i.e. it provides a context for each work and explains why you included it in the portfolio); and then
closes with some concluding remarks about the writer or the portfolio. For many students, the
traditional reflective letter form is a good choice.
However, some writers choose to open up this traditional kind of letter to include conventions from
other writing genres. For example, one writer might choose to submit a letter that includes
dialogue, creates a detailed scene, or incorporates figurative language as a means of introduction or
reflection. Another writer might choose to cite outside sources—like interesting quotes from plays,
poems, or works of fiction, or your own writing —to fulfill the requirements for the reflective letter.
That is, the genre of reflective letter writing is able to accommodate a variety of creative options
that you can select from or combine. Since the letter is the first piece of writing included in the
portfolio, you will do well to consider all of the options available to you—and try drafting out
various ones to see how they might look to and be received by the portfolio audience—as you set
out to write your reflective letter.
Whether you select the traditional or creative letter, or try a combination of both, be sure you
maintain a focus on your writing.
How important are titles to the portfolio contents?
Titles are often a very difficult and a sometimes overlooked part of the composing process. But the
title is the first introduction to a piece of writing that readers see, and as such it is an important
element of the work itself. Spend some time thinking about how you will title the three works in
your portfolio that require titles (all but the reflective letter). For each title you create, ask yourself:
Will this title intrigue my readers? Does it reflect what I have written in my paper? If I saw this
title on a paper, would I be likely to read the rest of the paper based on the title alone? You could
also get feedback from other people, asking them the same kinds of questions. Following this
procedure can help you determine if you have chosen an interesting title that will effectively
prepare the audience for reading your text.
Does all of the writing included in my portfolio have to be related in some way?
Another way to put this question is, do I need a “theme” that connects all four of my works? And
the answer to that question is no. You do not have to feel “locked in” to selecting or creating pieces
that are all somehow “related” to each other. On the other hand, your reflective letter is meant to
explain to your readers how you chose the individual pieces you included in the portfolio, and why
they work well together to showcase your writing strengths and give your portfolio varied depth
and balance. That is, the most successful portfolios demonstrate an ability to write effectively in
86

different genres of writing. The portfolio readers will be looking for your ability to compose in a
variety of ways: reflection on specific texts you have written; narration of a personal experience or
short story writing; exploration, explanation, and/or persuasion; and response to other texts.
Do all 4 pieces in my portfolio have to be of equal length?
The most important thing to remember is to use the full 12-page limit and develop your thoughts in
each piece as fully as possible. But don’t try to force each paper you include to be of equal length.
Chances are that your reflective letter will only be 1-2 pages in length, while your
explanatory/exploratory/persuasive essay or your response to a text will likely be much longer,
maybe even 5 or 6 full pages. One of your pieces may be 3 1/4 pages, while another may be 4 1/2;
instead of being credited in that case for 4 pages and 5 pages respectively—which might put you
over the limit—we would count the fractional pages together as one page, which would either give
you one more page to work with, or maybe keep you within the 12-page limit. In other words, use
the 12 pages in a way that helps you produce 4 pieces each with which you are happy and that, taken
together, will showcase your writing abilities most effectively. Your portfolio readers will be
reading and evaluating your portfolio as a whole.
87

2002 Portfolio Information
88

Portfolio Contents
A portfolio consists of a completed information form together with the following four equally
important pieces of prose writing. Poetry may be included as part of any piece, but since this is a
prose portfolio, poetry should not comprise an entire piece. Miami’s Department of English follows
the NCTE Guidelines for Nonsexist Use of Language and any sources used must be properly
documented with in-text and end page citation. Examples and explanation of both the use of
nonsexist language and proper documentation can be found on Miami English Department’s
Portfolio Website. http://www.muohio.edu/portfolio/
1. A Reflective Letter
The reflective letter, addressed to Miami University writing teachers, sets the tone for the
portfolio by introducing both the writer and the individual pieces. Readers are not expecting a
narrative of your experiences and growth as a writer but, rather, evidence of the critical reflection
used in assembling and producing the portfolio. To that end, most useful letters explicitly
introduce the pieces and explain the purpose and audience for each piece. Both creative and
more traditional letters of introduction are acceptable.
2. A Narrative or Short Story
This piece can be based on personal experience as a non-fiction narrative or can be a short work
of fiction. Its aim is to communicate the significance of an experience or event through
description, dialogue, and/or narration. Put another way, successful pieces show rather than tell.
The writing can be personal and informal. This narrative or short story should have a title.
3. An Explanatory, Exploratory, or Persuasive Essay
Generally speaking, essays in this category should be focused, informative treatments of specific
subjects. This essay should provide much more than convincing examples of supporting data; it
should examine multiple points of view and show strong evidence of critical thinking, awareness
of audience, and attention to social context. If secondary sources are used, they must be
documented correctly. You may find that you’ve written an essay that fits this category for a
class other than English. This explanatory, exploratory, or persuasive essay should have a title.
4. A Response to a Text
This essay should respond to a written text (short story, novel, poem, play, or essay) or a cultural
text (film, music, or visual art) produced by professionals, classmates, or yourself. The response
should interpret or evaluate all or part of a text. Possible approaches include analyzing textual
elements, explaining the text’s significance, comparing the text to other texts, relating the text to
personal experience and /or connecting it to larger social or cultural contexts. Use support from
the text to develop ideas and strengthen focus without overshadowing your own response or
giving extensive summaries. If secondary sources are used, they must be documented correctly.
(If the print text is not common, a copy of it should be included with your portfolio.) This
response to a text should have a title.
89

Essential Instructions
Papers written in class or out of school, including college application essays, are acceptable. Papers
should be revised after being returned by a teacher.
Arrange your portfolio in this order:
• completed information form
• reflective letter
• narrative or short story
• explanatory, exploratory, or persuasive essay
• response to a text
For any one piece of writing (not all four pieces), include and label all draft material and paperclip
it to the end of the appropriate essay. Portfolios lacking draft material will not be scored.
(Notecards will not be accepted.)
Your name, hometown, school, and teacher’s name cannot appear anywhere in any of the portfolio
pieces (including your reflective letter), and all your writing must be free of teacher’s marks,
grades, and comments. This does not include your draft materials.
Do not staple or bind your portfolio. Paper clips are okay.
Your completed portfolio, not counting works cited pages and draft material, should not exceed 12
typed, double-spaced full pages (8.5”x11”) using a 12-point font. If your four pieces total more than
12 pages, your portfolio will not be read. The strongest portfolios tend to range in length from 10
to 12 pages.
All materials must be mailed on or before June 3, 2002, by your supervising teacher— the teacher
most familiar with the pieces in your portfolio. This teacher must sign the Portfolio Information
Form documenting that all writing in the portfolio is your own. You also sign the form.
The portfolio submission fee is $28, more if you earn credit, and you will receive a $10 gift
certificate from an Oxford area bookstore. You will be billed later so do not send payment with
your portfolio. Results will be mailed at the end of June. Results will not be given over the phone.
Portfolios must be postmarked by June 3, 2002, and sent to:
Portfolio Writing Program
Department of English
Miami University
Oxford, OH 45056
90

Portfolio Information Form
To the student: Complete the first half of this form (type or print) and give it to your supervising
teacher along with your portfolio and a stamped 10x13 envelope addressed to: Portfolio Writing
Program, Department of English, Miami University, Oxford, Ohio 45056. Do not send payment.
STUDENT’S NAME ________________________________________________________________
HOME ADDRESS__________________________________________________________________
CITY_______________________________________STATE___________ZIP __________________
HOME PHONE(___)_______________________EMAIL: ___________________________________
Will you be (check one):
❑ an entering first-year student
❑ an upper-division Miami student
❑ a transfer student
❑ other
At what campus will you enroll:
❑ Hamilton ❑ Middletown ❑ Oxford
All the writing included in the attached portfolio is my own, and I grant Miami University
permission to publish all or part of its contents.
Signature of Student______________________________________________________________
To the Teacher: If you believe this portfolio contains only the student’s own work, please complete
this form, insert it and the portfolio into the envelope provided by the student, and mail it by
June 3, 2002. Thank you!
SUPERVISING TEACHER’S NAME______________________________________________________
TEACHER’S HOME PHONE:(___)______________________________________________________
TEACHER’S HOME ADDRESS ________________________________________________________
CITY_______________________________________STATE_________ZIP ____________________
NAME OF HIGH SCHOOL: ___________________________________________________________
SCHOOL ADDRESS:________________________________________________________________
CITY_______________________STATE_________ZIP ____________________________________
PHONE(___)______________
EMAIL:_______________________________________
To the best of my knowledge, the attached portfolio has been written by this student.
SIGNATURE OF TEACHER ___________________________________________________________
91

Supervising Teachers 2001
Kristen C. Adams Ramapo High School Franklin Lakes, NJ
Dorinda Adelman Walnut Hills High School Cincinnati, OH
Donald D. Airhart Jackson High School Massillon, OH
Shelly Allison-Grubb McComb High School McComb, OH
Leslie J. Altman Hawken School Gates Mills, OH
David T. Anderson Hinsdale South High School Darien, IL
Robert A. Archibald Simsbury High School Simsbury, CT
Elizabeth R. Armentrout Middletown High School Middletown, OH
Jacquelyn R. Baker Oak Hills High School Cincinnati, OH
Janet T. Baker Oak Hills High School Cincinnati, OH
Brittany Ballard Mount Notre Dame High School Cincinnati, OH
Amy McBride Barker Kirkwood High School Kirkwood, MO
Donald K. Barnes Sylvania Northview High School Sylvania, OH
Linda Barrington Wauwatosa East High School Wauwatosa, WI
Pauline M. Beattie Chartiers Valley High School Bridgeville, PA
Anne L. Bennington Bishop Fenwick High School Middletown, OH
Mrs. Kathleen A. Berwanger Loveland High School Loveland, OH
Patricia A. Blatt Centerville High School Centerville, OH
Kimberly M. Boldon Thomas S. Wootton High School Rockville, MD
Janet C. Bouldin Neuqua Valley High School Naperville, IL
Peggy Bowers Graham High School Saint Paris, OH
Cynthia K. Briggs Wyoming High School Cincinnati, OH
Mrs. Linda L. Brown Vandalia Butler High School Vandalia, OH
Tom Brown Van Wert High School Van Wert, OH
Linda K. Bruns Shawnee High School Lima, OH
Pamela Bryan Vermilion High School Vermilion, OH
Lynore Buck Lake Catholic High School Mentor, OH
Erin M. Burke Saint Xavier High School Louisville, KY
John Calcei Aurora High School Aurora, OH
Scott Callaghan Wadsworth High School Wadsworth, OH
Thomas Cambisios Maumee Valley Country Day School Toledo, OH
Karen Cameron Maumee High School Maumee, OH
Nancy A. Canfield Olentangy High School Lewis Center, OH
Susan Carley Mundelein High School Mundelein, IL
Mrs. Sarah L. Caserta St. Joseph Central Catholic HS Bowling Green, OH
Mrs. Laurel Chambers McAuley High School Cincinnati, OH
Daniel S. Cohen Deefield High School Deerfield, IL
Frank A. Cole Upper Arlington High School Upper Arlington, OH
Mrs. Stephanie Collier Newton High School Pleasant Hill, OH
Robert H. Collins St. Cecilia Academy Nashville, TN
92

Valerie Combs Archbishop McNicholas High School Cincinnati, OH
Steven M. Connor Lakewood High School Hebron, OH
Jane Cook Beavercreek High School Beavercreek, OH
Jaimie Crawford Pine Crest School Fort Lauderdale, FL
J. Clinton Crumley Providence Day School Charlotte, NC
Michael L. Curtin Fenwick High School Oak Park, IL
Mary B. Curtiss Trumbull High School Trumbull, CT
Mrs. Michelle Day Princeton High School Cincinnati, OH
Michael J. Dehring St. Xavier High School Cincinnati, OH
Carl J. Demarkowski St. John’s Jesuit High School Toledo, OH
Heidi Demetrio Loyola Academy Wilmette, IL
Cynthia deMontigny Rochester Adams High School Rochester Hills, MI
Shayne Dickman Dublin Coffman High School Dublin, OH
Thomas J. Diehl West Jefferson High School West Jefferson, OH
Jennifer M. Donohue Gahanna Lincoln High School Gahanna, OH
James W. Downie St. Xavier High School Cincinnati, OH
Mrs. Patricia L. Drake Centerville High School Centerville, OH
Carol T. Dressman Mother of Mercy High School Cincinnati, OH
Nancy M. Dunker Hudson High School Hudson, OH
Susan Elberty Hickory High School Hermitage, PA
Jeannette C. Faber Fairfield High School Fairfield, CT
Cindy Fahrenkrug Appleton North High School Appleton, WI
Sr. Rose Falorio, SND Regina High School South Euclid, OH
Steven D. Fischer Lake Park High School Roselle, IL
Janet Fish Thomas Worthington High School Worthington, OH
Leslie D. Fouser Revere High School Richfield, OH
Mark Francioli Benedictine High School Cleveland, OH
Mrs. Jean Ann Fries Lehman Catholic High School Sidney, OH
Karen Fulop Valley Forge High School Parma Heights, OH
Carole G. Fultz The Summit Country Day School Cincinnati, OH
Barry Gadlin John Hersey High School Arlington Heights, IL
Ellen Geisler Mentor High School Mentor, OH
Elizabeth A. Glenn Westerville North High School Westerville, OH
Susan Gooch Pike High School Indianapolis, IN
Thomas W. Graler Sycamore High School Cincinnati, OH
Dr. Joy M. Gray Kenston High School Chagrin Falls, OH
Donna L. Griffin Union Local High School Belmont, OH
Kim Group Beavercreek High School Beavercreek, OH
Jack C. Guy Columbus School for Girls Columbus, OH
W. Glen Hackett Fox Chapel Area High School Pittsburgh, PA
Judith Hackman Stow-Munroe Falls High School Cuyahoga Falls, OH
93

Julie R. Hagerty Mount Notre Dame High School Cincinnati, OH
John Haile Western Reserve Academy Hudson, OH
Jean Hajek St. Joseph’s Academy Saint Louis, MO
Peg Hamilton Hilton Head Preparatory School Hilton Head, SC
Ms. D. J. Hammond Madeira High School Cincinnati, OH
Beth M. Harding Princeton High School Cincinnati, OH
Susan Goodwin Hardman Roane County High School Spencer, WV
Lynne Harman Marquette High School Chesterfield, MO
Diane J. Harris York Community High School Elmhurst, IL
Todd S. Hawley North Atlanta High School Atlanta, GA
John (Jack) S. Hay Boardman High School Boardman, OH
Linda Cassiere Heile McAuley High School Cincinnati, OH
James L. Hemmert Carroll High School Dayton, OH
Marilyn R. Herring Ursuline Academy Cincinnati, OH
Betsy Hickman Unionville High School Kennett Square, PA
Linda P. Hoffman Gahanna Lincoln High School Gahanna, OH
Richard A. Holt Niskayuna High School Niskayuna, NY
Elizabeth Homon St. Francis DeSales High School Columbus, OH
Megan R. Horncastle Lakota West High School West Chester, OH
Melanie M. Huber Crestview High School Ashland, OH
Barbara A. Jones Hughes Center High School Cincinnati, OH
Samantha A. Jones Saint Ursula Academy Cincinnati, OH
James L. Jordy University School Hunting Valley, OH
Dr. Linda A. Karazim Springfield High School Holland, OH
Dale R. Kelley Orange High School Pepper Pike, OH
James Patrick Kelly The Summit Country Day School Cincinnati, OH
Stephanie L. Kight Athens High School The Plains, OH
Judith D. Klefas Sycamore High School Cincinnati, OH
Dianne S. Klein Bowling Green High School Bowling Green, OH
Donald T. Klever Maumee High School Maumee, OH
Kathleen H. Knox Elyria Catholic High School Elyria, OH
Philip Kokofacto University School Hunting Valley, OH
Sarah McClure Kolk Hope College Holland, MI
Mary Anne Kovacs Trinity High School Garfield Heights, OH
David A. Lackey Strongsville Senior High School Strongsville, OH
Deanna Lancaster Talawanda High School Oxford, OH
James R. Langlas Wheaton North High School Wheaton, IL
Dr. Veronica Leahy Columbus School for Girls Columbus, OH
Carol A. Lenk Medina Senior High School Medina, OH
Judith S. Libby North Central High School Indianapolis, IN
Eric E. Linder Cranbrook Kingswood High School Bloomfield Hills, MI
94

Therese D. Lustic Hudson High School Hudson, OH
Brenda Mahaney Tippecanoe High School Tipp City, OH
Rich Majerus Sycamore High School Sycamore, IL
Lawrence W. Malito Marist High School Chicago, IL
Deborah L. Mangus Fremont Ross High School Fremont, OH
Jennifer I. Manoukian Sycamore High School Cincinnati, OH
Jason A. Marsicano Maine Township High School South Park Ridge, IL
Pamela A. McCarthy Hoover High School North Canton, OH
Patricia McGonigle Luke M. Powers Catholic High School Flint, MI
Alicia D. McKee Monroeville High School Monroeville, OH
Regina K. Meyer Hilliard Davidson High School Hilliard, OH
David M. Miller Grove City High School Grove City, OH
Mrs. Sheila M. Misselhorn Belleville East High School Belleville, IL
Dona L. Montgomery Gahanna-Lincoln High School Gahanna, OH
Colleen Rowe Morris North Allegheny Senior High School Wexford, PA
Mrs. Mary Muffly Upper St. Clair High School Upper Saint Clair, PA
Thomas E. Mulhall Brecksville-Broadview Heights HS Broadview Hts, OH
Lisa Mullen Worthington Kilbourne High School Columbus, OH
Betty J. Myers Wayne Trace High School Haviland, OH
Tamara E. Mykel Wichita Collegiate School Wichita, KS
Kathie A. Naab Shawnee High School Lima, OH
Diane Mastro Nard Cardinal Mooney High School Youngstown, OH
Lawrence Needham Lakeland Community College Kirtland, OH
Doris Nell Lebanon High School Lebanon, OH
J. Nelson duPont Manual High School Louisville, KY
Mary B. Nicolini Penn High School Mishawaka, IN
Amy C. Nock Ursuline Academy Cincinnati, OH
Kimberly A. O’Dell Newark High School Newark, OH
Michael T. O’Donovan New Trier High School Winnetka, IL
William D. O’Neal Parkway West High School Ballwin, MO
John P. O’Toole Solon High School Solon, OH
Cheryl M. Orebaugh The Wellington School Columbus, OH
Richard H. Orndorff William Mason High School Mason, OH
Penelope H. Orr Hawken School Gates Mills, OH
Barbara Osburg Parkway North High School St. Louis, MO
Anne H. Padilla Bowling Green Senior High School Bowling Green, KY
Mr. Chris Pearson Bishop O’Connell High School Arlington, VA
Kent R. Peightal Cathedral Preparatory School Erie, PA
Duane J. Perspyk Eden Prairie High School Eden Prairie, MN
Edward L. Poe Lawrence Central High School Indianapolis, IN
Ann H. Pollio Ballard High School Louisville, KY
95

Craig E. Potter Perry Meridian High School Indianapolis, IN
Barbara A. Powell Lebanon High School Lebanon, OH
Mary K. Pratscher St. Francis High School Wheaton, IL
Lynda Primavera Pope John Paul II High School Boca Raton, FL
Anna M. Ptasznik Grosse Pointe South High School Grosse Pointe, MI
B. Scott Quade Medina Senior High School Medina, OH
Mary Jane Reed Solon High School Solon, OH
Wendy L. Relich Whitefish Bay High School Whitefish Bay, WI
Luanne F. Richardson St. Vincent-St. Mary High School Akron, OH
Nancy J. Richter Sacret Heart Griffin High School Springfield, IL
Christina Conklin Rode St. Ursula Academy Toledo, OH
Alice Rote Copley High School Copley, OH
Barbara Salate Notre Dame-Cathedral Latin School Chardon, OH
Cheryl Salzman Colerain High School Cincinnati, OH
Robert Sauerbrey La Salle High School Cincinnati, OH
Jason D. Scales Daviess County High School Owensboro, KY
Dianne Schanoy Maine Township High School South Park Ridge, IL
Robert C. Schantz Canterbury School Fort Wayne, IN
S. K. Schrotenboer Forest Hills Central High School Grand Rapids, MI
Jane A. Schwalbach New Trier High School Winnetka, IL
Linda A. Schwegman St. Henry High School Saint Henry, OH
Anna Segreto Community School of Naples Naples, FL
Joseph Serraglio Saint Edward High School Lakewood, OH
Carol L. Sheldon South Central High School Greenwich, OH
Joyce E. Shrimplin Wadsworth Senior High School Wadsworth, OH
Suzie Sime Eden Prairie High School Eden Prairie, MN
Rebecca L. Simpson Edgewood High School Trenton, OH
Elizabeth A. Singleton Carmel High School Carmel, IN
Carolyn S. Smith Madison High School Middletown, OH
Chuck V. Smith Celina High School Celina, OH
Connie S. Smith Sycamore High School Cincinnati, OH
Jaime Smith Lemon-Monroe High School Monroe, OH
Susan J. Smith Bellaire High School Bellaire, OH
Karen L. Snedaker Dublin Coffman High School Dublin, OH
Timothy L. Snook Highland High School Medina, OH
Linda O. Specht Strongsville High School Strongsville, OH
Clare E. Squance Talawanda High School Oxford, OH
Kevin Starr Clarence High School Clarence, NY
Kristen B. Statt Bishop Fenwick High School Middletown, OH
Sr. Mary Alice Stein Carroll High School Dayton, OH
Lynn Stevenson William V. Fisher Catholic High School Lancaster, OH
96

Carolyn M. [Remeta] Stewart St. Clairsville High School St. Clairsville, OH
Michael Stratton Middletown Senior High School Middletown, OH
Marty Strohmeyer Chaminade College Prep School Saint Louis, MO
Timothy J. Stults Hamilton High School Hamilton, OH
Julie H. Susser Fox Chapel High School Pittsburgh, PA
Larry S. Sweeney Olentangy High School Lewis Center, OH
M. Lynn Taylor Eastmoor Academy High School Columbus, OH
Dennis Thomas Chaminade-Julienne High School Dayton, OH
Lisa R. Thomas Bloomington High School Bloomington, IL
Cherie A. Thompson Hawken School Gates Mills, OH
Janet M. Tillitski-Clark Glen Oak High School Canton, OH
Diane M. Tinucci Lafayette High School Ballwin, MO
Joseph Tomba Lake Catholic High School Mentor, OH
Tiffany Toombs Clear Fork High School Bellville, OH
Helen Trares Archbishop Hoban High School Akron, OH
Cheryl M. Trivisonno Dublin Coffman High School Dublin, OH
Sally S. Vance Worthington-Kilbourne High School Columbus, OH
Kathleen Veith Hudson High School Hudson, OH
J. Michael Wagner Cincinnati Hills Christian Academy Cincinnati, OH
Frances L. Waible Antioch Community High School Antioch, IL
Lisa (Dalessandro) Walker Mayfield High School Mayfield, OH
Susan N. Wallace Chattahoochee High School Alpharetta, GA
Ellie Warning Lincoln-Way Community High School New Lenox, IL
C. Kay Watson Lakota East High School Middletown, OH
Sandra M. Weichert Lawrence Central High School Indianapolis, IN
Eric J. Wentz Highland Park High School Highland Park, IL
David P. Wetta York Community High School Elmhurst, IL
Linda Wheatley London High School London, OH
Richard A. Williams Hubbard High School Hubbard, OH
Allison L. Wischer Wyoming High School Wyoming, OH
Melissa J. Wolfe-Izworksi Sycamore High School Cincinnati, OH
97