Aaron Ramirez
9/23/2022
English Comp. 11000
Prof. Shearer
WLL and Cover letter
Cover Letter
Just last year I took an AP English course where I did nothing but read and analyze writing. There was a lot of reading, amazing reads like Othello and The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. As well as a lot of sophisticated analysis about literary techniques and the writer’s potential purpose. One thing I remembered that year was not just how amazing the books were, but also how hard I tried to spice up my writing with the most sophisticated claims and or incredibly descriptive writing. During phase 1 of this course I attempted to take as much of those skills as I can recall into my writing to illustrate a cohesive yet easy to understand piece.
During this phase I realized that you can’t just copy and paste every skill you’ve learned in the past. That every breath has to match the step I take. The Spoken piece was not easy but the effort helped me visualize the different forms writing can take. The written form was much simpler, conforming my writing to the prompt was easy in itself and the story came naturally.
To summarize, I’ve learned that writing can take many different forms depending on the rhetorical situation. I’ve gained a new appreciation for language as a whole as it is not easy to not take your own writing to heart. Finally, I’ve learned how to chart a reading for better understanding as well as wise up to the challenges of being a better speaker.
The Time I Was Lost, Literally
2018 was a year many parents lament in frustration to this day. This was around the time when the game “Fortnite” just started gaining traction around the U.S and pulled in a record breaking player base as well as income from in-game purchases. Fast forward to the “Fortnite world cup” in 2019 where players and fans across the globe traveled to Nyc to be able compete for millions of dollars. To this day I can reflect on my time at the “Fortnite World Cup” as a memorable and worthwhile experience with my friends, the trip back home unfortunately was just as memorable.
I took the stairs up and left behind the depot, leaving me with 5 options for paths to take, including other depots and hallways that would lead me nowhere I knew. The floor was a dark brown color, and the ceiling varied in height from high to low at each pathway. It felt like the wrong answer no matter where I went, and out of fear of losing track of myself, I ran back into that same spot right above the depot where I took the wrong train. “Oh, I see,” I said to myself, relieved to have some idea of how to get home. “I’m going to take the same train back to where I got on and ask for directions!”. It had been some time since my friends had returned home, and it was getting late. This is the first time I’ve ever been lost, and I can already hear my mother screaming in my ear, listing and revising every reason for my incompetence. Being chastised wouldn’t be the worst thing, but who knows what conclusions my mother would reach if I didn’t return home soon? I exited the train station and went through the ticket machine to meet a female M.TA employee. “Excuse me…” I said after a brief pause to catch my breath. “Do you know where I can transfer to this train, or how I can get to this Street?”. That’s what I really wanted to ask her anyway. However before I could get my point out I gave her too much information about my day and it confused her. She gave me perplexing directions to another nearby depot where I could begin my journey home. At the same time, I wasn’t sure whether I needed to have gone downtown or uptown, especially since a transfer was required. So, after some running around, I carefully explained and asked a janitor where this station was; “see that tunnel right there?” he said. “Go there, and it’ll be on your left,” he instructed as he went on his way. All the while I was skeptical that he understood exactly where I wanted to go the entire time. Doubts and concerns of whether I communicated well enough flooded my mind. Language is a skill that we grow up with and is a uniquely powerful tool we utilize on a day to day basis. In spite of this, for the first time in my life I realized that I was a very poor communicator.
If I had translated everything I really said that night into dialogue I’d have more encounters and at least another page. In truth I could not explain to anybody my situation or where I was trying to go well and it caused a back and forth that shot my anxiety levels through my head. It’s so easy to get through life without questioning what could have been if only you were more competent. We don’t often ask ourselves enough if we could have gotten more through our language. Would she have liked me back if I was better with my words? Would he have understood me if I spoke more eloquently? Rather, I waited until I failed terribly to realize just once that I could have been better. Realize that I in fact could not speak without stuttering, that I could not deliver points concisely, that my inflection was always meek and could only convey my timidity when I needed to convey urgency. Words that I could say to get across my point didn’t come to mind until it was too late. Having this problem meant I could not accomplish the mundane, that I sounded like a child in distress, that I was incompetent and that I was helpless. Language is just a skill like any other, it can be practiced and you can become amazing at it. Or it can diminish with time and you could be as shitty as I was in this instance. It was this day that I made the very obvious revelation that language was a skill, and a damn useful one at that. Since this moment I’ve made multiple realizations sequentially of what I should make a focus of improving in my language. That I should make an effort to piece together a voice befitting of my character and situation if I wanted to get the most out of my life.
One transfer and 2 conversations later I found myself at a station within proximity to my home. The train station at night was like one old industrial warehouse under a huge yellow lamplight. That’s all I could see as I was leaving the train station for the first time. “I’m almost on my street, meaning I’m almost home”. At this point of my life I was unaware of how long each avenue could stretch. Beyond the lamplight encroached a darkness unnatural to me all around me. “I’ll get out the same way I got in” I thought to push away my doubts. I entered a sprint and the colors of New York shone brighter than ever in comparison to the train station. I’d run and run until I found my way home because I could not imagine returning to the moment where I was lost at a train station.
Spoken Language and Literacy Narrative
The Time I Got Lost, Literally
I took the stairs up and left behind the depot, leaving me with 5 options for paths to take, including other depots and hallways that would lead me nowhere I knew. The floor was a dark brown color, and the ceiling varied in height from high to low at each pathway. It felt like the wrong answer no matter where I went, and out of fear of losing track of myself, I ran back into that same spot right above the depot where I took the wrong train. “Oh, I see,” I said, relieved to have some idea of how to get home. “I’m going to take the same train back to where I got on and ask for directions!”. It had been some time since my friends had returned home, and it was getting late. This is the first time I’ve ever been lost, and I can already hear my mother screaming in my ear, listing and revising every reason for my incompetence. Being chastised wouldn’t be the worst thing, but who knows what conclusions my mother would reach if I didn’t return home soon?I exited the train station and went through the ticket machine to meet a female M.TA employee. “Excuse me…” I said after a brief pause to catch my breath. “Do you know where I can transfer to this train, or how I can get to this Street?”. That’s what I really wanted to ask her anyway. However before I could get my point out I gave her too much information about my day and it confused her. She gave me perplexing directions to another nearby depot where I could begin my journey home. At the same time, I wasn’t sure whether I needed to have gone downtown or uptown, especially since a transfer was required. So, after some running around, I carefully explained and asked a janitor where this station was; “see that tunnel right there?” he said. “Go there, and it’ll be on your left,” he instructed as he went on his way. All the while I was skeptical that he understood exactly where I wanted to go the entire time. Doubts and concerns of whether I communicated well enough flooded my mind. Language is a skill that we grow up with and is a uniquely powerful tool we utilize on a day to day basis. In spite of this, for the first time in my life I realized that I was a very poor communicator. If I had translated everything I really said that night into dialogue I’d have more encounters and at least another page. In truth I could not explain to anybody my situation or where I was trying to go well and it caused a back and forth that shot my anxiety levels through my head. Words that I could say to get across my point didn’t come to mind until it was too late. Having this problem meant I could not accomplish the mundane, that I sounded like a child in distress, that I was incompetent and that I was helpless. Language is just a skill like any other, it can be practiced and you can become amazing at it. Or it can diminish with time and you could be as shitty as I was in this instance. It was this day that I made the very obvious revelation that language was a skill, and a damn useful one at that.
