Considering the fact that Sheryl I. Fontaine and Susan M. Hunter’s article, Collaborative Writing in Composition Studies, articulates three distinct mindsets for writing— solo, cooperative, and collaborative— I found it useful to create a chart that illustrated the distinctions and bridges between each mindset. This is in part to help me, a woman with a photographic memory, determine which role I am taking on when writing, and to assist me when a role has been assigned. I found the creation of this chart furthering my understanding of Fontaine and Hunter’s key concepts.

Illustration of Collaborative Writing

            To be honest, I did not enjoy reading Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, for it was extremely dry in the way it presented fact after fact. There came a point in reading this text in where I had to force myself to go back to paragraphs over and over again because the only things my brain was catching were the words corn, nitrogen, and government. Admittedly, The Omnivore’s Dilemma— in my opinion— was a mind-numbing read that could be condensed to half its size. Despite my critical perspective, however, all texts offer something insightful, and so I pushed through to discover the the pressing issues associated with the question "What should we eat?":

            As Americans, we become so obsessed with being health conscious that we lose all ability to make sophisticated choices about nutrition. Certainly, a small percentage pretends to analyze labels and tries to avoid fast food, yet we do not avoid the “American Paradox—that is, a notably unhealthy people obsessed by the idea of eating healthily” (3). Pollan continues this line of thinking by discussing three aids in making food choices: memory, taste buds, and culture (4), as well as “three principle food chains: the industrial, the organic, and the hunter-gatherer” (7). He points out the growing concern for the government’s and technologies’ push to alter the natural process of making food by creating monocultures, adding chemicals, and replacing the sun. All of this, nevertheless, was simply background knowledge serving as the introduction for the beef of Pollan’s argument that corn can either serve as a friend or a foe to farmers. He illustrates this assertion through the testimonies of a farmer in Iowa named George Naylor, who prefers nature over technology, yet who is not blind to pressures other farmers faced when giving into government demands. Certainly, farmers are in need of a “higher yield” (37) in order to earn a high enough profit to support a family and the costs it takes to keep a farm running. So what happened to other crops? Well, with the invention of the tractor, and the overabundance of corn that can be grown over and over again, there grew a lack of necessity for rotating crops and animals at the farm level. Having said this, corn is also a much easier crop to produce in that it only requires “riding tractors and spraying” with the possibility  of “spending the winter in Florida” (40), which is a stark contrast to the typical mindset that views faming as hard labor. Another point Pollan made was the shift from a dependence on the sun to a dependence on fossil fuels. This eventually led to a decrease in diversity on farms as well since things no longer required cultivation but cost. In the later pages of this article, Pollan switches his attention to two influential men in the production of corn- Fritz Haber and Earl “Rusty” Butz. The first mentioned realized the necessity of combining nitrogen and hydrogen atoms to yield life, and it is with this realization that he won a Nobel Prize for the synthesis of ammonia. The second mentioned was a secretary of agriculture who altered the New Deal that was in effect to a more promising deal of direct pay to farmers (52). Despite the potential that was seen at the beginning of this shift, there was a major pitfall in this plan where farmers were stuck with the pay cut.  Finally, The Omnivore’s Dilemma comes full circle with the recurrence of George Naylor’s story in which he presents the Naylor Curve and a prime example of “’Thoreau’s line: Men have become the tools of their tools”’ (56).

            Eric Schlosser’s introduction to his book, Fast Food Nation, is an eye-opening, easy read. I personally appreciated his didactic tone and use of familiar metaphors. In reading the eight-page introduction, I found myself figuratively fumbling the ball, or more literally losing my hold on the knowledge I once considered true in light of new evidence. While the fast food industry makes a ridiculously high profit, provides an immense amount of new jobs, and offers “uniformity” (4) on nearly every corner of the nation, it also has led to the demise of home cooked meals, the extinction of family farms, as well as safe and fair working conditions. Admittedly, the number one fast food chain, McDonalds, has overcome many challenges and should pride itself on its advertising abilities; however, the company should consider the contradiction between claiming that they are “inexpensive and convienent” (8), when in reality they create a reckless receipt and compromising challenges for farmers, workers, and consumers. The following are key excerpt of the Schlosser’s article where the facts were so convincing that I was forced to write “WHAT?!?!” in the margin as I contemplated the fast food industry’s impact on society in comparison to other large-scale issues such as religion, economy, and voice:

• “The Golden Arches are now more widely recognized than the Christian cross” (4).
  
  “The United States now has more prison inmates than full-time famers” (8).
  
  “The federal government has the legal authority to recall a defective toaster oven or stuffed animal – but still lacks the power to recall tons of contaminated, potentially lethal meat” (8).
  

If the previously mentioned quotes from Fast Food Nation’s introduction do not spark a need for change, then Schlosser simply proved an unfortunate fact that fast food has become “so commonplace…[it is now] a fact of modern life” (6).

            Stephen Schneider’s article, Good, Clean, Fair: The Rhetoric of the Slow Food Movement, is dynamic and discerning. He provides a strong foundation and framework with which to explore the Slow Food Movement, and he is not afraid to showcase contradictions and criticisms. My understanding of Schenider’s assertions including the origin, mindset, concerns, goals, and criticism are as follows:

            The Slow Food Movement was started by Carlo Petrini in the 1970s and traces back to Bra, Italy due to its ideal location. The motivation behind this movement is based in educating and shifting the mindset of the public to reflect a stronger connection between consumers and producers. Carlo Petrini urges people to consider “food [as the] primary defining factor of human identity” (388). He argues this claim based upon food’s ties to economic, political, and social acts. Specifically, Petrini admires Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin for the angle she takes on gastronomy, for she considered a complete study of food to include things beyond nutrition like “agriculture, cooking, and tasting” (391). Having said this, the Slow Food Movement is not against science so long as it complements tradition; likewise, this movement does not stand in opposition to globalization, for it finds globalization necessary to the extent that it promotes relationships between the varied partners in food production and consumption. It is important, however, to continue the discussion of the Slow Food Movement to include its main concerns and goals. As a result of food being tainted with alterations for efficiency, “the small landowner gives way to the factory farm, which churns out food that is fast, cheap, abundant, and standardized” (394). Clearly, the word fast is a stark contradiction to the objective of the Slow Food Movement. Carl Honore offers a clear distinction between fast and slow:

Fast is busy, controlling, aggressive, hurried, analytical, stressed, superficial, impatient, active, quantity-over-quality. Slow is the opposite: calm, careful, receptive, still, intuitive, unhurried, patient, reflective, quality-over-quantity. It is about making real and meaningful connections—with people, culture, work, food, everything (395).

Admittedly, the food production industry, alongside many consumers, prefers to follow Bill Gates’ “desire to do business at the speed of thought” (393). This is detrimental to the idea of changing the perspective on food as well as goes against the core values of the Slow Food Movement. For one, this movement begs both producers and consumers to consider three principles when describing the quality of food- flavor, environment, and farmers (390). Pursuing this further, Petrini strives to use his movement to promote small-scale farmers and regionally grown food. All things considered, the Slow Food Movement has not escaped criticism. Critics claim that there is a lack of structure, an inability to see the big picture, and an ignorance toward realistic thinking; yet the Slow Food Movement continues to push forward, educating and advocating for the death of the disconnect and fast-paced food production.

This is a combined effort of Lindsey Clay and Abigail Parks

What is the discrepancy between the appearance and the reality of the health associated with Vitamin Water?

1. What is the public’s perception of Vitamin Water’s nutrition?

2. What is Coca-Cola’s claim on Vitamin Water’s nutrition?

3. Why is it called Vitamin Water?

4. What is the nutrition facts compared to other drinks?

5. Is there potential to do a blind taste test between Vitamin Water and a nutritionally sound drink? We could possibly ask participants to determine which drink tastes better as well as which drink they think is healthier without depending on labels.

6. What is the message that Vitamin Water’s advertisements are sending?

7. Who is to blame for being misinformed? Is it Coca-Cola’s lack of integrity or the public’s growing ignorance?

8. What are the implications of the public knowing the truth?

9. Once the public is informed, what is their attitude toward Vitamin Water and Coca-Cola?

10. Do we value the appearance or reality more? (“looks driven society”)

            Wendell Berry’s article, The Pleasure of Eating, is a painfully honest and accusatory article, yet Berry has every right to make his argument because while he targets the ignorant he provides a solution. His Berry’s claim rests upon the fact that the public, who can be seen as either “passive” (1) or “victim[s]” (1), lacks the desire to connect their role in the production of their food. Berry uses this article to express his concern for the g rowing disconnect between the farm and the supermarket. He continues to imply that food producers would eat the food for the consumer if they could make money off of it (1), for they are already disguising the food through means that are better for income than integrity. Furthermore, Berry explores shifts the public can make in order influence the food market and protect their health. He suggests such things as growing one’s own food, cooking at home, supporting local farmers, and educating oneself. Above all, however, Wendell Berry was more concerned with promoting “pleasure, that is, that does not depend on ignorance” (3) than pointing the finger at the food industry or the public.

            Donna Qualley’s article, Turns of Thought, was perceptive and thought-provoking. There were many times when I was immersed in thinking about the text that I found the author almost predicting the pitfalls I would encounter. After reading this article, I still feel as though I am constructing my understanding of reflexivity, yet my understanding of it up until this point is as follows:

            Reflexivity is a “systematic, self-critical”(3) fight for understanding that often takes place in the state of “between” (10), yet by no means does reflexivity suggest fighting alone; nevertheless, people often confuse reflexivity with reflection, metacognition, comprehension, and even processing, all of which are solitary acts serving as a stark contrast to the true meaning of reflexivity. Admittedly, the characteristic of looking inward is a critical component of reflexivity; however, this simplistic action alone cannot hold the weight necessary to make any of the previously mentioned words interchangeable with the term reflexivity. Although, the problem lies not in the individual’s willingness to think critically, but in his or her lack of willingness to actively change after consulting the other. To clarify, the other as defined by Donna Qualley is, “an other idea, theory, person, culture, text, or even an other part of one’s self” (11). Certainly, there is abstractness that when added to the mix helps most if not all view the other subjectively or objectively, yet this alone cannot match the authority of reflexivity because reflexivity requires these two entities to entangle themselves and work together. Likewise, reflexivity resembles more of the characteristics of dialogue than a monologue simply because reflexivity is “bidirectional” (12), not “unidirectional” (11). Pursuing this further, reflexivity not only impacts the thinking of the other or oneself, but also one’s perception of the world. The key in reflexivity is to practice the art of reflection and then push beyond the importance of oneself to not only consider the other, but also allow this shift to confirm or contradict one’s previous thinking while leading to change. Essentially, reflexivity is requesting participation rather than perfection; this particular form of participation leads to a conversation whose population is larger than one and whose topic is open to interpretation. In sum, reflexivity is a transparent, self-motivated activity that lingers in the hmm between the head and the heart in order to meet the goal of self-actualization.

    While reading the article, Conducting the Interview, I found myself having a rich conversation with Cynthia Stokes Brown, the author. Certainly, she was not answering me in typical dialogue fashion, yet it was as if her text was interviewing me as the reader, encouraging me to dig deeper and interact with the text. While many of her points were simply review from my past experiences with interviewing, there were a few pages when I went highlighter-happy over her elegantly written insights. Please allow me to showcase the conversation I had with Brown by placing direct excerpts from her article followed by my responses in purple italics:

1.      “Listening well is much more important than consulting a list of questions, especially if your narrator wants to talk” (35).
            I can relate to the fact that when taking the role of the interviewer, listening should be elevated high above speaking. For me, I find that if I am worried about covering a list of questions, I am not listening intently as to what the narrator is saying. My prepared list of questions forces me to become more concerned with that I am going to say next rather than what the narrator is saying currently. Essentially it is hard to listen and think at the same time.

2.      “leading questions” (36)
            Leading questions were a major challenge for me. I find it very difficult, especially when interviewing students and faculty within a school not to input my own beliefs and perceptions into my questions. Cynthia Brown, however, pointed out the easy cure, which many of my professors have addressed prior to reading the article. The solution is to delve deeper and insert the words how and why when appropriate.

3.      “Don’t be afraid to ask daring questions in order to get beyond the surface answer… But in an interview the usual roles for social conduct do not apply; you are likely to be rewarded for boldness. After all, the worst that can happen is that your narrator will become silent or say, “I’d rather not answer that question” (37).
            The above excerpt is one of the portions that strike me as being very insightful. When I took time to reflect upon asking risky questions, I realized that in all roles— the interviewer, the narrator, and the observer— I appreciated the questions that do not generate generic answers. To illustrate, I will present a farfetched, yet familiar occurrence: Simon Cal on American Idol, 9 times out of 10, commented and inquired about the very things that all of us were not scared to think, but were scared to articulate. As a result, the audience tended to receive rich, transparent answers.

4.      “Answers that are interesting include not just information, but also feelings and interpretations” (37).
            I could not agree with this statement any more than I currently do. As stated in the article, yes and no answers are too vague to produce anything worth analyzing. From the perspective of the student, textbooks are only as interesting as the elements it provides beyond the information. For example, in a social studies book, I will become more interested if there are personal accounts, opinions, and perspectives on wars and social experiences than facts alone.

5.      “Reading a good children’s book about a topic is always a good way to start your research” (40).
            This suggestion excites me because I have such a passion for kids and believe with everything in me that children’s books have immeasurable lessons radiating from their pages. I have never thought of learning about history from children’s books, yet I am willing to try it when the situation presents itself.

6.      “Interviews are always unique and unpredictable events. Each one is the interplay of two personalities. Your task as the interviewer is to be sensitive to what is happening, so that you can help your narrator become relaxed, talkative, and revealing as possible. An interview should be a monologue, not a dialogue; the narrator should do most of the talking, with the interviewer on the sidelines, encouraging and cheering on” (40).
            I value this metaphor of the narrator being the star athlete and the interviewer being the coach/cheerleader. Certainly, I have been in interviewing situations where being sensitive to the concerns or story that the narrator was sharing paid off in the information and insight I walked away with.

7.      “Go with these surprises—play detective— follow you instincts” (42).
            The most exhilarating interview moment is when your narrator diverges from your plans and allows you access to lose yourself in their story. The narrator then becomes the tour guide and the interviewer becomes a fan with a VIP backstage pass. Personally, the best interviews I have ever conducted, and I use that word lightly, were with children. The best thing about kids is that they are completely unscripted and candid; whenever possible, I try to incorporate children into my research because they have no filter, thereby offering their sincere version of the truth!

8.      “chemistry” (43)
            I metaphorically high-fived Cynthia Brown when I came across this word. In my experience interviewing everyone from the school nurse to the superintendent of my assigned school for Clinical Practice, my eyes were opened to the importance of chemistry between the interviewer and the narrator. While I requested 15-20 minutes for each interview, I found that certain people offered me so much information and insight that I was able to pick and choose quotes from their monologue with which I wanted to present. On the other hand, those individuals that acted as though my interview was an obligation offered me the bare minimum thereby ruining all chances of chemistry before we even sat down.

9.      “Life has its dark side, and to leave it out is dishonest. Conflict, challenge, obstacles, tragedies—these are the times when a person’s real spirit emerges. But we all have trouble discussing some things or even admitting that they have happened to us they may see too awful or disappointing even to acknowledge. By not being afraid of raising sensitive questions and but not passing judgment on what you hear from your narrator, you’ll encourage your narrator to talk freely. You can accept whatever happened—it’s simply what happened, and you know already that life is a lot more complex than anyone ever expected it to be” (43).
            This is by far my favorite excerpt of the entire article, Conducting the Interview. The words literally jumped off the page and danced in my mind for quite a bit of time! Admittedly, people are generally prone to expressing at length anything and anything they deem positive, yet they stutter, hesitate, and often hide that which they deem negative. The real story, however, lies within the combination of both the positive and negative elements of life. Furthermore, I find the statement, “life is a lot more complex than anyone ever expected it to be” (43) to radiate with truth!

10.  “Usually the narrator will reveal the most sensitive material only after hesitating, if you rush with a question, you will miss it” (45).
            While silence in my book is usually defined as awkward, I have learned to allow silence, pauses, and hesitation as a gift! As Cynthia Brown attested, narrators generally share their heart after a moment of reflection. If rushed, however, interviewers lose the most important component of the story—transparency.

    What is Oral History, an insightful article exploring the “maddeningly imprecise term” (1) of Oral History, provides a compelling set of guidelines with which to compare Oral History to my own journal writing. In the process, I found riveting parallels and stark contrasts in the areas of motivation and style. To start, there is a similarity between the shift toward the story of the everyday person and the fact that I am just an average girl who is sincerely attempting to tell my version of the truth (2). Are the topics covered in my journal necessarily life altering? Sometimes yes and sometimes no, yet they usually address some form of “social experience” and provide me, the “historically—silent,” (2) a voice.  The divergence enters in three major concepts: point of view, purpose, and publicity. While Oral History is meant to provide multiple perspectives, my journal consists of one narrator. At the same time, Oral History attempts to “democratize the record,” (2) whereas my journal is solely under my jurisdiction. Furthermore, Oral History is noted for its “dialogue” (3) and “self-conscious, disciplined conversation” (2-3); however, I can argue that my journal holds internal dialogue that can be calculated and confrontational. The differences are that this dialogue is fashioned out of two different roles within myself and is written as opposed to being spoken.  Certainly, my journal writing lacks the interview process required to make it susceptible to outside influences, but technically even that which I believe is original or solely mine was crafted with the help of my environment that includes people and events that have shaped and possibly manipulated my thinking. Having said this, my journal embodies qualities found within Oral History that help to preserve honest accounts:

[This includes a] thinking-out-loud quality, as perceptive questions work and rework a particular topic, encouraging the narrator to remember the details, seeking to clarify that which is muddled, making connections among seemingly disconnected recollections, challenging contradictions, evoking assessments of what it all meant then and what it means now (3).

This excerpt in particular struck me as a critical and intriguing lens with which to compare Oral History to my journal writing. Admittedly, my journal contains elements of each characteristic mentioned above. The differences lie within style. The thought process has merely shifted from the subconscious to ink. The line of questioning has merely shifted from an interviewer to an inner-self; nevertheless, the questions are still critical, challenging, and require a great deal of courage to ask. Inevitably, details are provided in the manner and to the degree that I can conjure up an image simply by revisiting my writing in order. This allows me to readdress my perspective from then to now. I often attempt this process to illustrate my maturity over time. Luckily, in doing so, my eyes have been opened to things I was once blind. More importantly the connection between Oral History and my journal writing is based upon the fact that not only does everyone have a story to be told, but also a desire for it to be told in his or her own words; essentially, when you take the text out of the context, you are left with a con which interestingly is the argument behind the importance of Oral History.

    While reading “Situating Narrative Inquiry,” there were a few key excerpts that triggered something inside of me and cause me to create dialogue with the text.  Please allow me to present the quote and then offer my thoughts in purple italics:

    “So while researchers have new respect for the human in the subjects they study, they continue to perceive themselves as capable of being objective” (Situating Narrative Inquiry 11).
    “In this discourse, as researchers we continued to act in our role as researchers as if we were capable of remaining in some way intellectually and objectively separate from what we were studying— we did not remove the boundaries we had drawn around ourselves as researchers. We felt that in our role as researchers the self was unchangeable” (Situating Narrative Inquiry 12).
    We are not robots who view everything in one of two spheres: black or white. As humans we contradict the components necessary to be objective by dictionary definition. Certainly, we can try to base our decision on facts, yet we would be lying if we said our conclusions are “not influenced by personal feelings, interpretations, or prejudices”  (dictionary.com).  Through considering the role of judge or jury, we as humans, even when “putting energy into maintaining an objective stance” ( 12) insert our own moral compass and experience before rendering a verdict. Therefore, I find it more credible to say “the researcher and the researched in a particular study are in relationship with each other and that the parties will learn and change in the encounter” ( 9) because “humans and human interaction exists in context” ( 11). Essentially for humans the objective lens is always accompanied by the subjective lens. 
    The previous paragraph was written when I had only read up until page 12, so when I made it through the complete reading, I was thrilled that the text was conversing with me and supporting my argument. This occurred on page 15 with the idea of the “implausibility of being truly distant” and again in the conclusion where the authors argue that you cannot dispose of the “nonneutrality of curiosity and interest” (29).  

    “[Piaget] focused not on numbering the answers but on the children’s explanations (words) about their understanding of particular events” (Situating Narrative Inquiry 16) – a quote in reference to the Stanford-Binet intelligence test.
    Student Teaching reinforced this concept for me. Children come at problems from all different angles, and while their answers on an objective test may be wrong, if asked to explain their reasoning in oral or written fashion, they often have perfectly intelligent logic. This goes to show that numbers cannot account for all reasons, for language must accompany those numbers.

     “When the audience is presented with numeric findings, the reader must provide a narrative to explain and capture the relationships presented with statistical values” (Situating Narrative Inquiry 20).
    “It is interesting to consider that not only should numbers be accompanied by words, but also words should be accompanied by numbers. As stated in the article, formulas, charts, graphs, and tables must be accompanied by words in order for relationships to be established and explained. Likewise, writing needs a sense of numbers, not in the traditional or literal sense, but in code. This code is known as sequence. Sequence words (first, next, then, last) serve the purpose of numbers in that they keep each occurrence “independent, interchangeable, and equal” (18).  The difference between numbers and words in my opinion is that in writing, words can ground sentences making them dependent, contradictory, and even disproportionate. I believe the key is to use numbers and words together only when they serve to complement one another and offer a better explanation than providing words or numbers alone.

    While my quotes are only concerned with the first two turns: 1) relationship of researcher and researched and 2) from numbers to words as data, I am not discounting the importance of turn 3) from the general to the particular of turn 4) blurring knowing. I will, however, say that turn 3 came as a given. Clearly more understanding comes from a more focused lens. Although, turn 4 I feel I still need some explanation of epistemology, or maybe I’m making too much of what I don’t completely understand and I do have a good grasp. Ultimately, I enjoyed this article for his depth and perspective despite its length.