Entering English 105, I had only taken English classes that focused on analytical reading and writing on fictional texts, all in a traditional five paragraph format. The content differed so dramatically from that of this course that it hardly seems appropriate they both be referred to as “English”. Through the distinct curriculum of this class, I have acquired a great deal of rhetorical skills and an understanding of how to use them in argument, along with an ability to diagnose fallacies. Thrillingly, I am also now comfortable with APA style.
I believe my greatest gain from this class is my newfound ability to blend logos, pathos and ethos, which I feel is best exemplified in my classical argument. Although I had been previously introduced to each of these strategies, I was merely asked to identify them and had therefore never truly understood their respective functions in the construction of my own arguments. My traditional compulsion as a writer has been to rely heavily on the logos side of an argument, as to me, this is where the crucial information lies. However, equally crucial is making that information digestible and compelling, which requires appeals to one’s emotions and the credibility of the author. I felt that I established ethos early in my argument, as I referenced my own experiences with the college decision process and provided context for my argument on this basis instead of simply thrusting numbers in the audience’s face. I also used anecdotes, both from my own life and those of others, to vary the manner in which the audience received information. Finally, I appealed to readers’ emotions with the claim that college is meant to be a time of emotional and intellectual enrichment above all else and by concluding with a call to action, hopefully reminding readers that they have a role in ending a problematic culture. Before this class, I would have been incapable of effectively blending these strategies and would not have understood the necessity of doing so. Additionally, I feel that the Heinrichs readings have given me a number of even more advanced rhetorical tools that can be applied to all walks of life and have helped me better understand how to appeal to different audiences.
I also learned a great deal about fallacies. Previously, “fallacies” to me were simply a lump of logical untruths, but I now have the ability to identify and combat whatever specific fallacies are being employed. Not only was this part of the curriculum engaging, but it is tremendously important, as awareness of these weapons not only serves as protection against rhetorical opposition, but also has made me more aware of avoiding fallacies in my own argument in day to day life. For example, it seems to me that “strawman” is the most commonly used fallacy, and I have caught myself preparing to use it several times before reframing my argument in a way that does not obscure the other person’s logic unfairly. Although I feel that my performance on the fallacy test demonstrated my acquired knowledge of fallacies, it is these real life circumstances that stand out to me. For example, my general knowledge of fallacies was also helpful when I visited Tempe earlier this semester and came across a flat earther who was dispelling his beliefs to a crowd. He quickly turned to fallacies in his argument, and I was able to diagnose his use of many of them, including repeated appeals to ignorance, red herrings, and ad hominems. In instances like this, where manipulation is almost deliberate through the use of fallacies, I feel better equipped going forward because of this class.
Another skill that I acquired in this class, which is important despite being remarkably boring to discuss, is an understanding of APA style, which I had never previously used. I have worked hard to master APA since we were first introduced to it, but I did still make some stylistic mistakes in my classical argument, as I forgot to italicize the names of some publications and did not order my references alphabetically. However, I did not repeat those mistakes in my advanced appeal, and although there is a healthy number of ways to mess up APA, I now feel confident using it.
This entire class was dramatically different from any other English class that I have taken, and I am grateful for that. The writing strategies I acquired in this class seem far more practically advantageous to me, and I hope to continue to add to my rhetorical skills and become a more effective arguer. Although there is still room for refinement and improvement of everything I have learned, I feel that, through a greater understanding of fallacies and rhetoric in this course, I have been enhanced as a writer and critical thinker, and that this class was to my great benefit.
In the chapter “Run an Agreeable Culture”, Jay Heinrichs makes a compelling argument for the necessity of a “rhetorical culture” in the present United States, as we are currently at a political juncture in which tribalism prevails above all else. Heinrich traces rhetoric’s role in the United States back to the founding of our nation, emphasizing that great rhetoricians were revered by early American leaders and that a faith in the rhetorically educated was essential to the founding fathers’ faith in democracy. Although this argument is well substantiated, it is not as compelling to me as Heinrichs’ address of our modern environment and standards, as our history is ultimately not as relevant as the present. Heinrichs notes that there is an increasing distrust across groups, and that people are diving deeper and deeper into “ideological bubbles” (368). This is highly consistent with my own observations, as although people are currently highly combative and divided, there is minimal constructive confrontation. Instead, interactions between those holding opposing beliefs consist of name-calling, followed by complaints about the other to one’s echo chamber audience, hardly inspiring debate of any sort. Heinrichs points out that this tribal mindset has led to the damage of journalism, science and government, which he refers to as the “three pillars of fact in a modern society” (369). We increasingly stray from the acceptance of objective truths that are not to our group’s benefit, opting to favor “values” instead, which will only lead our political environment to devolve further and further. As Heinrichs puts it, “When politicians politicize morals and moralize politics, you have no decent argument. You have tribes” (370). While the consequences of our abandonment of rhetoric are manifest, it should be obvious why rhetoric is essential regardless. What is more important than compelling people to action through argument? Not Shakespeare’s diction or Whitman’s use of imagery, I can assure you of that. Rhetoric dramatically shapes our reality, yet it has long been neglected in this country. Heinrichs’ argument affirmed to me a belief that I have held since the beginning of this class: that these skills are way too important for me to start learning in college, and that everyone within our country desperately needs to stop blindly latching onto “their group”. Rhetoric is the way to fix that, and it is not too late to re-establish its presence in our society.
As far as the work of my peers, I first looked at Nick Rowe’s work on sports fandom. I thought that his classical argument effectively personalized the issue and provided strong anecdotes, while his innovative use of a comedy sketch in his advanced appeal humorously articulated some of the absurdities of fandom that we all seem to share.
Next, I read Kay Adversario’s work about Asian American culture in relation to mental illness, which I found to be quite compelling. Kay excelled in her balance of pathos, logos and ethos in her classical argument, beginning with a powerfully vulnerable introduction that both draws the reader in and puts them on Kay’s side. I also thought that her satire highlighted the lengths many Americans will go to to avoid dealing with mental health issues in a manner that was both funny and cutting. In particular, I was struck by the line “mental illnesses make you weak. A cult will make you strong.” Although this is absurd on its face, it seems to reflect some of the deluded beliefs that people hold with regards to mental health.
Third, I read McKenna Hubbard’s work on the perils of unrealistic food beauty standards, which I thoroughly enjoyed. She immediately grabbed my attention with her classical argument’s opening line, “what is beautiful is good and what is ugly is dangerous,” and she held it throughout. In particular, I enjoyed that McKenna used a delayed thesis, immediately establishing that humans favor that which is attractive without even addressing food. Ultimately, she illuminated an issue to which I had given little thought through the use of excellent information and writing technique. In her advanced appeal, she did an excellent job of establishing tone early, from which she never deviated.
Finally, I read Molly Woodward’s work on toxic masculinity. I thought Molly offered an interesting examination of the roots of toxic masculinity in her classical argument and that she effectively deconstructed many components of a complex issue. However, I was slightly bothered by what I felt was an inauthentic and excessive use (and on several occasions, misuse) of “big words” throughout her classical argument, especially in the introduction. I found her advanced appeal to be highly creative, humorous and impactful, as she covered many true flaws of toxic masculinity, and the ancient scroll format deeply resonated with me, for whatever reason.
Ultimately, I am grateful for the opportunity this class provided for me to read and learn about skillful argument, and for the fact that I was able to argue something I truly cared about. Whenever I can channel passion into my work, it naturally becomes far more enjoyable, and this class granted me that with some serious educational benefits.
I believe my greatest gain from this class is my newfound ability to blend logos, pathos and ethos, which I feel is best exemplified in my classical argument. Although I had been previously introduced to each of these strategies, I was merely asked to identify them and had therefore never truly understood their respective functions in the construction of my own arguments. My traditional compulsion as a writer has been to rely heavily on the logos side of an argument, as to me, this is where the crucial information lies. However, equally crucial is making that information digestible and compelling, which requires appeals to one’s emotions and the credibility of the author. I felt that I established ethos early in my argument, as I referenced my own experiences with the college decision process and provided context for my argument on this basis instead of simply thrusting numbers in the audience’s face. I also used anecdotes, both from my own life and those of others, to vary the manner in which the audience received information. Finally, I appealed to readers’ emotions with the claim that college is meant to be a time of emotional and intellectual enrichment above all else and by concluding with a call to action, hopefully reminding readers that they have a role in ending a problematic culture. Before this class, I would have been incapable of effectively blending these strategies and would not have understood the necessity of doing so. Additionally, I feel that the Heinrichs readings have given me a number of even more advanced rhetorical tools that can be applied to all walks of life and have helped me better understand how to appeal to different audiences.
I also learned a great deal about fallacies. Previously, “fallacies” to me were simply a lump of logical untruths, but I now have the ability to identify and combat whatever specific fallacies are being employed. Not only was this part of the curriculum engaging, but it is tremendously important, as awareness of these weapons not only serves as protection against rhetorical opposition, but also has made me more aware of avoiding fallacies in my own argument in day to day life. For example, it seems to me that “strawman” is the most commonly used fallacy, and I have caught myself preparing to use it several times before reframing my argument in a way that does not obscure the other person’s logic unfairly. Although I feel that my performance on the fallacy test demonstrated my acquired knowledge of fallacies, it is these real life circumstances that stand out to me. For example, my general knowledge of fallacies was also helpful when I visited Tempe earlier this semester and came across a flat earther who was dispelling his beliefs to a crowd. He quickly turned to fallacies in his argument, and I was able to diagnose his use of many of them, including repeated appeals to ignorance, red herrings, and ad hominems. In instances like this, where manipulation is almost deliberate through the use of fallacies, I feel better equipped going forward because of this class.
Another skill that I acquired in this class, which is important despite being remarkably boring to discuss, is an understanding of APA style, which I had never previously used. I have worked hard to master APA since we were first introduced to it, but I did still make some stylistic mistakes in my classical argument, as I forgot to italicize the names of some publications and did not order my references alphabetically. However, I did not repeat those mistakes in my advanced appeal, and although there is a healthy number of ways to mess up APA, I now feel confident using it.
This entire class was dramatically different from any other English class that I have taken, and I am grateful for that. The writing strategies I acquired in this class seem far more practically advantageous to me, and I hope to continue to add to my rhetorical skills and become a more effective arguer. Although there is still room for refinement and improvement of everything I have learned, I feel that, through a greater understanding of fallacies and rhetoric in this course, I have been enhanced as a writer and critical thinker, and that this class was to my great benefit.
In the chapter “Run an Agreeable Culture”, Jay Heinrichs makes a compelling argument for the necessity of a “rhetorical culture” in the present United States, as we are currently at a political juncture in which tribalism prevails above all else. Heinrich traces rhetoric’s role in the United States back to the founding of our nation, emphasizing that great rhetoricians were revered by early American leaders and that a faith in the rhetorically educated was essential to the founding fathers’ faith in democracy. Although this argument is well substantiated, it is not as compelling to me as Heinrichs’ address of our modern environment and standards, as our history is ultimately not as relevant as the present. Heinrichs notes that there is an increasing distrust across groups, and that people are diving deeper and deeper into “ideological bubbles” (368). This is highly consistent with my own observations, as although people are currently highly combative and divided, there is minimal constructive confrontation. Instead, interactions between those holding opposing beliefs consist of name-calling, followed by complaints about the other to one’s echo chamber audience, hardly inspiring debate of any sort. Heinrichs points out that this tribal mindset has led to the damage of journalism, science and government, which he refers to as the “three pillars of fact in a modern society” (369). We increasingly stray from the acceptance of objective truths that are not to our group’s benefit, opting to favor “values” instead, which will only lead our political environment to devolve further and further. As Heinrichs puts it, “When politicians politicize morals and moralize politics, you have no decent argument. You have tribes” (370). While the consequences of our abandonment of rhetoric are manifest, it should be obvious why rhetoric is essential regardless. What is more important than compelling people to action through argument? Not Shakespeare’s diction or Whitman’s use of imagery, I can assure you of that. Rhetoric dramatically shapes our reality, yet it has long been neglected in this country. Heinrichs’ argument affirmed to me a belief that I have held since the beginning of this class: that these skills are way too important for me to start learning in college, and that everyone within our country desperately needs to stop blindly latching onto “their group”. Rhetoric is the way to fix that, and it is not too late to re-establish its presence in our society.
As far as the work of my peers, I first looked at Nick Rowe’s work on sports fandom. I thought that his classical argument effectively personalized the issue and provided strong anecdotes, while his innovative use of a comedy sketch in his advanced appeal humorously articulated some of the absurdities of fandom that we all seem to share.
Next, I read Kay Adversario’s work about Asian American culture in relation to mental illness, which I found to be quite compelling. Kay excelled in her balance of pathos, logos and ethos in her classical argument, beginning with a powerfully vulnerable introduction that both draws the reader in and puts them on Kay’s side. I also thought that her satire highlighted the lengths many Americans will go to to avoid dealing with mental health issues in a manner that was both funny and cutting. In particular, I was struck by the line “mental illnesses make you weak. A cult will make you strong.” Although this is absurd on its face, it seems to reflect some of the deluded beliefs that people hold with regards to mental health.
Third, I read McKenna Hubbard’s work on the perils of unrealistic food beauty standards, which I thoroughly enjoyed. She immediately grabbed my attention with her classical argument’s opening line, “what is beautiful is good and what is ugly is dangerous,” and she held it throughout. In particular, I enjoyed that McKenna used a delayed thesis, immediately establishing that humans favor that which is attractive without even addressing food. Ultimately, she illuminated an issue to which I had given little thought through the use of excellent information and writing technique. In her advanced appeal, she did an excellent job of establishing tone early, from which she never deviated.
Finally, I read Molly Woodward’s work on toxic masculinity. I thought Molly offered an interesting examination of the roots of toxic masculinity in her classical argument and that she effectively deconstructed many components of a complex issue. However, I was slightly bothered by what I felt was an inauthentic and excessive use (and on several occasions, misuse) of “big words” throughout her classical argument, especially in the introduction. I found her advanced appeal to be highly creative, humorous and impactful, as she covered many true flaws of toxic masculinity, and the ancient scroll format deeply resonated with me, for whatever reason.
Ultimately, I am grateful for the opportunity this class provided for me to read and learn about skillful argument, and for the fact that I was able to argue something I truly cared about. Whenever I can channel passion into my work, it naturally becomes far more enjoyable, and this class granted me that with some serious educational benefits.