The Flower Exercise and Law School decision making

Throughout this semester, I’ve been balancing the CofC English Capstone curriculum with my personal plans. I’m set to go to law school, but there is still much to learn from our class. In “What Color is Your Parachute?” by Richard Bolles, there is an activity called the Flower Exercise, which is a seven piece self-inventory meant to help individuals figure out what they are looking for in work. The Flower Exercise has helped me narrow down my plan and especially has helped me decide where I will go to law school. 

There are seven overall petals, ranging from smaller questions such as “who do you want to work with?” to larger questions like “what is your life’s purpose?” For me, I felt as though I already knew the petals about my skills and working conditions, but two petals that taught me a lot were petal 6, “Places,” and petal 7, “Purpose.”

One of the biggest struggles for me right now is picking where I want to go to law school. I have consistently heard that where you go to law school is generally the state in which you will practice, and my interview with Morgan Insley, filed under the Alumni Profile section, confirmed this belief. 

I knew that I wanted to practice in the Southeast, but that’s about all I knew. Undertaking petal 6, “Places,” I had to really focus – where have I lived, what did I like/dislike, what do I need vs. could live without – and that was something I’ve never thought about. I always thought I’d just stay in Richmond, my home town. That’s not off the table, but this exercise made me realize I might want to go further South. After careful consideration, I ranked certain things higher than I thought I would have – for example, nature. I put nature as the fourth most important thing. I have taken trips to visit my friends in New York and I literally had headaches every time and just couldn’t deal with the city. This petal exercise made me cut out those dreams that really just make no sense.

And yet, Atlanta still made it onto my list of top places to live. There are other factors that are even more important to me – a Jewish community is up at number two. I was raised essentially secular but have been moving towards Modern Orthodox practice for the past two years. I wake up every morning and attend shacharit services, among many other practices, and it has really changed my life. I realize now that going somewhere extremely rural or that simply does not have a Jewish community is out of the picture for me. It would make me unhappy in everything I do, and somewhere like Atlanta has a strong community.

teaching my summer campers how to put on Tefillin, a morning prayer tool. Masks b/c 2021

Then there’s petal 7, “Purpose.” This was the petal that took me the most time, because I had to push out the corporate talk that I’ve used for so many professional applications. Yes, the goals are important there, but there is more to my purpose than work. After careful consideration, I wrote out the main important things for me: a faith and community driven lifestyle, respect in both life and death, with physical and mental flexibility. 

Yes, that’s relatively abstract, but those are the pieces that matter to me. It means that I want to be a daily congregant at a synagogue, where I can learn and connect with friends with a similar background. It means that I want to do good things for the people around me, being able to host or provide for others. It means that I want to treat people better than I do and feel good about how I act to people, whether they know it or not (if you’re dead, you’re probably not caring how I treat you…) And finally, it means that I have the physical condition to do what comes to me: whether I want to lay on the couch all day or play basketball (my favorite sport) with my grandchildren. It means that I can continue to push myself through lifelong learning, just like my grandparents – I never want to stop.

I am so glad for this exercise and will continue to revisit it as my plans change.

A closer look at Tefillin — this is one of the most important grounding practices for me, and we put these on every day as part of prayer. Let me know if I can explain this more!

English vs. The World

The number of English majors has fallen by nearly half since the late 1990s- Benjamin Schmidt

I’ve found it strange that we as English Majors must consistently defend the major against most others. Finance majors generalized probably do not have to defend their major, yet multiple questions arise from the morality of increasing the fortunes of the quickly accelerating upper class. I will not spend this time discussing class inequality, but it seems to make a point more in our current time.

I do not like grammar, which is about 50% of English. The other 50% of English is vocabulary, I do not have a favorite word. I do however like reading, watching, and listening to English media. Most likely due to it being the only language I can understand. To say my decision to be an English major comes from an empathetic lens would make most of my friends laugh. I think at the end of the day I’m just a consumer that wants to have an excuse for my gluttonous consumption of media. Movies and Music surround my roommates and consistently a silent moment is not often non-existent. It is in this over consumption and my love for media that I have found my interests deeply intertwining with the ‘values’ of the English Major. I wish I had an interesting heartfelt story on my decision, but I do not and like George Washington, “I can not tell a lie”. Humorously, I have actually cut down a cherry tree.

Richard Bolles states, “It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”. Judging by my submission time on this blog post that I live by these words. Procrastination has always been a problem for me. I have been described as apathetic by friends much to my chagrin as they did not use apathetic and used ‘uncaring’ when apathetic would be a much better word to give me a descriptor. I do however feel as if despite this post, I have gotten much better at procrastination… or worse… better at dealing with my procrastination.

I have an important assignment that highlights my procrastination much in the line of the hero’s journey, If the hero was a 19 year old college student doing a project on photography. I hate to say it but I do not care about photographs, much to my own demise as an appreciator of art. For example, I have been told a photograph is good about 300 times in my life and never understood why. Despite this, someone who was teaching a class which I signed up for thought it would be a good idea to make me participate in photography in a photography class. I was tasked with taking multiple photos that make someone ‘feel’. I did not and still do not fully understand what that means. I spent the next week wondering what to do. That is a lie to be fair however as I spent the next week completely forgetting about that responsibility. It was only a day before that I remembered my photos. Luckily, when I most needed a quiet space, we had planned a party that night. As the party went on I decided to take photos of what was going on. To clear the air, I was taking photos of people I know, I was not taking photos of strangers. It was in my hasty arranging of my collage of photographs that I started to slightly understand what feeling from a photograph meant. As I surrounded myself with photos of my close friends, while slightly blurry, I was able to feel a sense of connection with my surroundings and the larger world around me. While not specifically an English Class, it was with my tutelage from various English classes that I was able to understand how a piece of media is supposed to make you feel, and furthermore connect it to the outside world.

This idea is what I truly think makes the English Major important, as I have been given the ability to contextualize anything within our world. It is with this humanist perspective that I have been able to extrapolate the importance for anything, and there is an importance for everything. I would not sacrifice these lessons for anything as I have been a more caring person because of it. I have learned not only how to fix my ability to procrastinate but also configure that with not getting lost in the moment. Learning the best time and place to do work, rather than doing something too early when my head is not in it. It’s important for me to put forth my best work, while this does not always work within the confines of school, I understand that this skill and understanding of my work ethic will better help me contextualize my skills within the job market.

Jean-Paul Sartre wrote, “A man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were recounting it.”. This is about novels, but I think it says more about the English Major as a whole. It is not what we are able to learn, but what we are able to do with the information we gather from our studies.

Where I am from.

I vividly remember the first time I ever saw my father cry. I was in middle school at the time and had recently written a poem for my English class. Although I had been writing poems for quite some time, this was the first one I had ever shown anyone before, let alone read in front of the entire class. Based on George Ella Lyon’s poem, “Where I am From,” we were asked to write our own version, detailing the unique ways that we grew up and the home that we were being raised in.

At dinner, my father asked to hear what I had written, so I read it aloud after we ate. I remember my heart pounding out of my chest, the saliva in my mouth dissolving into thin air, and the temperature in my cheeks reaching a feverish temperature. When I had finished, silence filled the air, and I could only hear the loud pounding of my heart reverberating through my ears. I looked up from the printed paper my poem was typed on and looked at my dad. His eyes were red and wet with tears.

I had never seen him cry a day in my life. At first, I had no idea how to react or exactly what his tears meant. But then he broke the silence, “That was so beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and slightly cracking. For the first time, I realized that maybe my poetry had meant something, done something to someone, made someone feel enough to bring tears to their eyes. Just the thought of my writing conjuring such strong emotions in someone who had remained so stoic for most of my life felt like flying.

For as long as I can remember, I have felt deeper than those around me. Things have always mattered more to me, and I have deeply cared about things others seem to push aside or not notice. It was not until I shared my writing with people that I felt truly seen. Through their experience of reading my work, I finally felt they could truly understand me, understand the little things I cared about and why. And when I shared this poem with my father, it was one of the first moments I felt he understood me.

Poetry became my sanctuary, allowing me to express the complexities of my life more openly. Through writing, I could express the deep feelings I felt about my familial struggles, school friendships, and the small, overlooked details of daily life. This intimate connection to poetry resonates with Patrick Rosal’s notion, as discussed in the New York Times article “Poetry is Hospitable to Strangeness and Surprise,” where he highlights poetry’s capacity for observation, reflection, imagination, and discovery. These elements captivated me and drew me deeper into the world of poetry.

Even more so, in Kathleen Ossip’s article “Why All Poems Are Political,” she explores poetry’s role as a liberated realm for language and politics, raising numerous compelling questions that deeply resonated with me. She asks:

“Could it be that poetry aims to stir our consciousness of the profound yet nuanced spectrum of joy and suffering inherent in existence?”

This question encapsulates the essence of poetry for me. Poetry serves as a catalyst for awakening, urging us to perceive the world with heightened sensitivity, to acknowledge the often-overlooked nuances, and to empathize with the countless emotions swirling around us. It fosters a sense of community, connecting us with others who share our depth of perception and emotion, ultimately making people feel less alone. It was in this space (writing and sharing poetry) that I finally felt understood and seen for who I truly am: someone who deeply cares about the world around me.

As I got older and life got progressively more confusing and difficult, writing about it never felt like enough, so I buried myself in sports. For the longest time, that was the only thing I allowed myself to focus on. It was not until the pandemic that I had a chance to stop and sit in stillness. Stepping away from playing volleyball at Wake Forest University after two years allowed me the space I needed to properly reevaluate my life and what I was doing with it. Even then, it took me two years at the College of Charleston, majoring in Arts Management, before I jumped ship and declared an English major. It was not until then that I felt I had truly found my place, or at least a step in the right direction.

Reflecting back on all the schooling I had done, I quickly realized that throughout my educational career, it was the English classes and English teachers that I had loved and connected to the most. Looking around my room, I noticed my floor was covered in stacks of books, my bedside table engulfed in journals, and little notebooks were hidden around my room with short poems that popped into my mind from time to time. It was clear then which direction I was heading for the remainder of my college career and professional life.

An essential characteristic of the English discipline lies in its foundation in sensemaking, a concept introduced by Christian Madsjerg in his book “Sensemaking: The Power of the Humanities in the Age of the Algorithm.” Within this text, Madsjerg dissects various principles encapsulating the notion of sensemaking in humanities and their application in professional settings.

Of these principles, Principle 3: “The Savannah-Not the Zoo,” particularly resonated with me. Madsjerg explains that to properly understand and relay information about the human experience, you have to be a part of that human experience (16-18). Genuine understanding and insight into human nature cannot be attained merely through external observation but through personal experience. This awareness is acquired not only through the observation of others but through introspection.

When contemplating the practical applications of an English major in professional settings, I recalled a project from my 299 Intro to English Studies class where I had written an essay centered on the theme of motherhood in my favorite film, “Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms.” Delving into various aspects of motherhood, like love, sacrifice, and societal expectations, I researched extensively, drawing from books, personal accounts, and scholarly articles. This exploration led me to better understand the complexities of motherhood. Through this process, I gained a deeper insight into the motivations behind parenthood and the resilience required to nurture a child.

In an excerpt from “Major Decisions: College, Career, and the Case for the Humanities,” by Ramsey and Grobman, they emphasize the inherent value of intellectual, artistic, and moral pursuits, much like the essay I wrote. These projects enrich our lives, broaden our perspectives, and challenge outdated modes of thought and behavior (54-55).

Initially, I approached the essay intending to argue against the traditional notion of motherhood, questioning the extent of its role in today’s society. However, through the writing process, my perspective began to shift. While I still harbor my reservations about motherhood, my empathy and understanding of the complexities of parenthood expanded significantly.

It was through writing this essay that I tapped into the beauty and significance of what it means to be an English major and the intrinsic gifts that come out of such an experience. Through the research and composition of this essay, I learned more about the experiences of others while getting to know myself better along the way. I found, too, that when I write about things I deeply care about, much like in my early poetry days, my work is persuasive enough to change my own mind.

Reading The Signs

Robinson Crusoe: Defoe, Daniel: 9781774262047: Amazon.com: Books

In my spring junior semester at the College of Charleston, I worked on a paper that helped a great deal with broadening my skills as an English major for my future. The class that this work was for was focused on how literature relates to nature, more so how man interacts with nature in specific texts, like Robinson Crusoe and The Tempest. Like most of my English finals up to this point, there were various topics that I could write on, but I chose one that centers around a reimagined Robinson Crusoe, where Robinson is actually a woman instead. With this topic, I had to write numerous scenes of the woman Robinson interacting with nature and how it differs from how the male Robinson treats nature. I then had to write a paper on the background of my woman Robinson, and how the story differs from the original, nature- and character-wise. While at first it seemed easy, it was the semester I had decided I wanted to become a writer, so I was desperate to write anything in any form. But as I delved into the character development of my woman, Robinson, I found myself hitting a pretty big wall. I had no experience in this type of world before.

This was the first time I had ever encountered Robinson Crusoe; I had never read it before. So while the material was fresh in my mind, I felt intimidated because I had never written any fiction that took place in a different period before. I decided that I would reread Robinson Crusoe, and in the middle of my rereading, I realized I really did not have to connect to the setting at all for this paper to work; I had to connect to Robinson. Through Robinson, I could see how he interacted with the world around him and how that would change to see a woman in that setting. I wouldn’t call the project easy after that, but I had a solution and now knew what I was looking for. From there, I created a whole new character by the name of Jane, who was shipwrecked on an isolated island in the middle of traveling from England to America after being forced into an arranged marriage. 

From this paper, I utilized the skill of encountering worlds and interacting within that setting with this work, as I created an original character within this world. While the shipwreck on an island is the same, the circumstances surrounding it are completely different. I took an already-created world and got introduced to a new one within the aforementioned world in the process of this project. The second skill that I built up and maintained through this paper was how to have a good perception of our world, as that is essential to understanding how other worlds work too. Because this course had a lot to do with nature and how man treats it, that allowed me to be more grounded in the nature of this planet. Helping me better understand how to treat it in a healthy way and open broader horizons. Like if, in the future, I would try to write a story relating closely to this world’s nature that I could portray sensibly. 

But how did I acknowledge that I even had these skills in the first place? Because humanities-trained people harness this method of thinking called “sensemaking,” coined by Christian Madsbjerg in his book titled Sensemaking: The Power of Humanities in the Age of the Algorithm, The term revolves around “practical wisdom grounded in the humanities” and focuses on the deeper meaning rather than the wider. I feel like I did not know how to put the true benefit of an English major into the correct words until I read about this term. Each one of the five principles that make up sensemaking I consider to be an essential skill that I will carry with me as I set out on my career journey. The main issue that I have been grappling with, though, is which one will be the most viable for me when I go forth on said journey. As you will soon see, my answer has changed from my previous blog posts, but it is the fifth principle called “The North Star—Not the GPS.” This prioritizes interpreting the facts and signs given to us in life instead of relying on our advanced technology to do the work for us. As Madsbjerg states, “The tools of navigation have always been available to all of us. But we must take responsibility for interpreting them.”

I believe this skill is the most viable for me at the moment because I would not say I have this certain principle in me. I hate to admit it, but I do rely on technology to interpret the signs of my life for me instead of making my own brain do it. I focus on what the internet would think, not what I would. I feel that to excel in my career, whatever it might end up to be, I will have to read opportunities in many different fonts, be able to recognize them for what they might be, and then take them. 

I have found that in this short amount of time that we have been in this class, I feel my opinions changing from my previous blog posts. I have found that I like that my perception of English as a major will always progress and shift as I dive into my career path. For me, my opinion on the skill of empathy and how my opinion has grown in the way that I feel it is because of being an English major is that I have grown immensely in that specific skill. In the article, ‘Does reading fiction make us better people?’ by Claudia Hammond, she talks about how people who read more fiction have better empathy. Before, when I covered this article in Blog Post 1, I criticized the fact that empathy should not be the only emotion taken into consideration when judging the morals of a person, but I see now that the article’s purpose was not just to point out how empathy is more common among fiction readers.

For this course, this article was to show how empathy can be a great skill I can harness as an English major when I go forth on my career path because empathy is truly diverse in where it is needed in jobs. As seen when Hammond brings up an example focusing on how empathy can be essential to the medical field, she writes that multiple doctors firmly believe “that reading fiction results in better doctors and has led to the establishment of a humanities programme to train medical students.” (Hammond). I feel this quote emphasizes how much of a necessity the skill of empathy is in the general career field instead of just one section of it. 

It is because of this course that I have allowed myself to think about all the genuine skills that being an English major can bring to the career field. I am able to connect with other periods and times, to understand the characters in them, and to care about them. I saw from my paper that I genuinely cared about Jane and her character arc, even though I only wrote a few pages of her story. It is definitely a project I want to return to some day, as it taught me so much about myself as a writer and student. Being an English major has taught me how to prepare for my future, from allowing me to connect with people I have never met to allowing me to recognize any sign that is in my way. While I am still learning to utilize these skills, I can see how helpful and essential they will be. 

Key-Lime Pie and Lighting Oneself on Fire: my English Story

“Do you want some of this pie?” – a question that I would normally say yes to every chance I get. This time, though, I was asked by the brother of a dying patient who was denying that this was the end, who was offering to give me the same key lime pie he was going to smash onto his brother’s face. I was interning at the Medical University of South Carolina, and this was only minutes into my shift. But what does working in a hospital have to do with my academic story?

I was stuck in this situation – as a Palliative Care volunteer, I have to realize my place. I blur the line between friend and physician, but I have to try to keep my decisions closer to that of a legal advisor. Being offered a slice of pie was more than just a slice of pie: it was shattering the picture that the brother had. But it’s not my job to destroy any hope that he had. My job is to explain the reality of the situation and to help offer ways to create a healthy and meaningful exit.

So what did I do? I took that slice of key lime pie, said thank you, and told him not to give it to his brother. I explained that he was in a comatose state, and that he was very close to death. I gave the brother a moment to think, feeling the dry pie as I swallowed. While he was trying to come to terms with everything, I offered some words: it is thought that many comatose patients can still hear what is going on around them, even if they can’t respond. I spent the next hour talking with the patient’s brother about some of their best memories and praying with him. 

Tools we give to grieving families

This is one of the most important experiences I have had as a volunteer, College of Charleston student, and person. The only reason I feel that I succeeded in that situation is because of my time as an interdisciplinary English major. Some degrees focus entirely on getting a job and nothing else, but English prepares us for life. As Richard Bolles states in his job-hunt book, “What Color Is Your Parachute?”, the job search is “no longer an optional exercise. It is a survival skill” – which, yes, is a bit ironic compared to this literal life-and-death situation I am writing about, but he’s right. We are prepared for survival — as the market changes, as technology takes over, and as we grow as individuals with different interests and desires.

Studying English has taught me three core values: anti-apathy, focus, and the power of words. I have learned these each day studying, but there are three main projects in which I learned the skills necessary to succeed in the end-of-life work field, and to succeed as a person – my papers for Third-World Literature and African Women Writers, my interview with David Popowski, and my internship with the Office of the Attorney General for Virginia.

Anti-apathy is the first skill that was vital to this situation. In today’s world, we are inundated with information. From the moment we wake up to the moment our head hits the pillow, our phones and computers flood us with happenings, and more often than not, they’re pretty bad. From school shootings to bombings in Gaza, the horrible actions have become tiresome to us. We grow accustomed to seeing these atrocities and our levels of caring plummet. We cannot care for a thousand causes at once, and it is even harder to care for something that does not directly affect us. That might sound horrible, but it’s the truth. There is simply too much to always pay attention to – but studying English has helped me to avoid this failure. Writing papers in Third-World Literature and in African Women Writers has allowed me to deeply study something far away that shouldn’t matter to me. As a white Jewish male from the South, why should I care about sexual violence in Jamaica or self-immolation in Zimbabwe? What link do I have to these problems? Does knowing about them affect my daily life? What I’ve learned is that it is one of our great gifts to care about others, and studying these topics allowed me to walk into that hospital room and care for the patient and his brother. After the patient passed, I have not seen or heard from the brother or the family. I do not plan to. It is simply that I was allowed to care, even if just for a small amount of time. The patient and his brother will always be important to me, but it does not affect my daily life – and that’s the point. It doesn’t have to. 

The next important skill was focus. Let’s be honest – how many of us can really focus on something anymore? You’ve probably checked your phone at least once while reading this. And that’s okay! We live in an attention economy, and everyone and everything is fighting for yours. As part of an Oral Histories of the Holocaust course, I was able to interview David Popowski, a descendant of Holocaust survivors in Charleston, and was able to contribute to the Shoah foundation housed at the University of Southern California. I believe that everyone spends half their lives planning what they’re going to say next, rather than listening. During this class, I practiced for months how I was going to guide the interview and how I would respond to each and every type of answer. I quickly learned that was not realistic. As soon as the interview began, David took over. The thirty minute interview quickly became two hours, and I learned how to let go and to simply focus on each and every word. Instead of thinking about my own goals, I struggled to let my ego sit back and relax. I always want to get ahead, to say something smart, to be seen as important and successful. But I was simply the recorder of someone else here – and it taught me how to work with the patient’s brother. I am simply an anonymous helper, someone to offer a moment of respite for someone dealing with death. It is not my place to input my own beliefs or thoughts – in fact, I never put forth my Jewish beliefs unless the patient is Jewish. I often find myself saying Hail Mary’s or praying in Christ’s name. Without this class and this interview, I would have forced myself into the conversation, making the situation harder for the patient’s brother. 

And lastly, the power of words. This is important not only to this specific situation at the hospital, but for life. As an intern with the Attorney General, I worked with victims of violent crime. I was the one stepstone between them and an unhelpful and often confusing government – yes, a kid with no real legal experience. What I often ended up being was simply a voice with words of comfort and resources. And that’s often what people need – not someone to walk them through the intricacies of a legal decision, but someone who would make them feel okay. And that’s what I did with the patient’s brother at MUSC – I didn’t give him false hope, but offered words that might be a shining light at the end of a tunnel. 

Anytime I eat key lime pie, I will be reminded of this experience. What I’ve learned is that being an English major has taught me skills that are helpful not only in the academic world, but in the professional world and the plain life world. As a major faced with constant insults, it is important for me to “take an inventory” that will give me “something solid to stand on.” Further, the second chapter of “What Color Is Your Parachute?” is largely focused on self-care – as the characteristic bumper sticker the author quotes says, “Don’t Believe Everything You Think.” Not only do the insults get to me, but the innate depth and stress that comes with working with people at the end of their lives gets to me as well. I have learned through lots of experience that there are ways I need to treat myself in academia, at work, and in life. These skills will help me be a better lawyer, social provider, and most importantly, a better person. 

flowers from our service of remembrance

Beyond the English Major

Majoring in English feels like finally gaining a certificate in a skillset I have been dealt at birth and developed throughout my entire life. It feels like finally reaching a blackbelt in karate. Reading, writing, and discussing, have been things that I’ve loved to do from the moment I was taught how. My natural inclination towards language has only blossomed with the support of educators who saw this within me–a healthy mix of nurture and nature. Taking these natural abilities and developing them into something “viable” is why we pursue an education in English. Without any direction, I feel it would be easy for an English-oriented mind to get lost in the world of language.

With that being said, English majors are constantly faced with the question, “How can you use that in the real world?” The practicality of an English degree is typically questioned because it is not directly linked to one certain career (besides being an English teacher). We English majors can clearly and confidently list the practical skills we’ve developed throughout our degree—critical thinking likely being at the top of the list. But what does critical thinking actually mean?

US Department of Education Standards for Critical Thinking defines critical thinking by the following standards: clarity, accuracy, precision, relevance, depth & breadth, logic, significance, and fairness.

In Amanda Hiner’s article, “The Viability of the English Major in the Current Economy,” she offers a great interpretation of these standards, “At its core, critical thinking can be defined as metacognitive thinking that is self-conscious, self-reflective, and self-correcting; that relies on standards and criteria of logic; that uses questions to reason things out; and that produces an authentic belief in the validity of the reasoning” (Amanda Hiner, The Viability of the English Major in the Current Economy). I think that this perfectly captures the essence of what the process of critical thinking looks like. These cognitive and metacognitive skills are things that come very naturally to English majors, and most individuals in the Humanities fields.

While reflecting upon the projects that I’ve worked on over the past four years there are a few that stand out. The first project asked that I explore key terms relevant to the theory and practice of my personal writing. I included this image because much of my project described the ingredients that makeup language comprehension. Something I noticed throughout the project was the balance and tension between the “abstract” and the “concrete.”

We live in a world of abstract concepts, thoughts, and ideas. It takes a very refined group of skills and tools to turn abstract concepts into concrete thoughts. Developing these thoughts and communicating them effectively is another layer entirely and ties back into the previous description of critical thinking. It requires you to be clear, accurate, relevant, consider breadth or depth, and to be logical

In another project, that I did in an English Education class through the Education department, we were asked to write about and discuss our teaching philosophy. Capturing the essence of why English is so valuable was natural for me. Explaining how and why I would be a successful teacher allowed me to spend time reflecting on the values of an English education. In the book Sensemaking, Christian Madsbjerg identifies terms like the way Humanities-trained people can: “encounter other worlds,” “imagine other worlds,” “have an acute perception of our own world” and can “recognize patterns to generate insights.” I agree, and these descriptions concisely articulate my six-page teaching philosophy.

Lastly, I believe that projects that all English majors are no stranger to—the literary analysis paper—seemingly useless in the “real world,” are actually the highest form of critical thinking. To be specific, one of my favorite papers to write, a literary Analysis of The Odyssey, required me to closely meet the standards of critical thinking: clarity, accuracy, precision, relevance, depth & breadth, logic, significance, and fairness. Additionally, I had to clearly and effectively communicate abstract ideas and turn them into concrete points.     

As an individual entering the world of sales and business commerce, I know that my English skillset is not only transferrable in the business world but both valuable and viable. I’ve learned that sometimes it’s not about the content I’m working with but the ability to become completely consumed by an interest in learning and sharing what I’ve learned. This ability is essential in a sales profession and is termed “product knowledge.” Learning about new products (for me specifically, medical devices) uses the same passion and skillset as becoming engrossed in a novel, poem, or essay.

Throughout each paper I’ve written, from literary analysis of Pope essays to Young Adult fiction novels, the common thread is clearly articulating my interpretation of the content and persuading others to believe and adopt my perspective.

Choosing English

Part 1: The Value of English

For me, my college career has been everything but straightforward. After majoring in Communications and playing volleyball at Wake Forest University for two years, I realized that if I continued to focus on my sport and major in something I had no particular interest in, I would end up completely lost at the end of my college career.

After transferring to the College of Charleston, I majored in arts management for two years until I realized that that was not my path either. It was during the summer of 2022 that I was registering for classes (to complete my arts management degree), and I called my parents crying because none of the classes I had to take were ones I felt passionate and curious about. Instead, they all felt like a chore. So, we began brainstorming my options, which I was completely reluctant to at first. But then, as the conversation continued, the idea of being an English major came up, and suddenly, it felt as though everything began to fit together.

I realized that when I looked around my room, it was covered in books. When I reflected on the things I enjoy the most in life, it was writing poetry, journaling, and reading. And when I thought back to my favorite classes and teachers growing up, they were always the English ones. At that moment, the lightbulb went off, and the steps forward became so clear.

It was then, too, that I thought of all the possibilities being an English major would offer me. All the things that I really love in life, all the things that bring me the most joy, were things I could be a part of, having majored in English.

One of the important aspects of English is that it is rooted in sensemaking, an idea presented by Christian Madsjerg in his book Sensemaking: The Power of the Humanities in the Age of the Algorithm. In this book, he breaks down several principles that make up this idea of “sensemaking” in the humanities and applies these skills to the professional world.

One of the principles that stood out to me was principle 3: “The Savannah-Not the Zoo.” In this, Madsjerg explains that to properly understand and relay information about the human experience, you have to be a part of that human experience (16-18). True knowledge and wisdom, when it comes to human nature, cannot be simply observed from an outsider’s perspective. It is something that you, too, have to personally experience. This knowledge not only comes from observing others on the inside but also from observing yourself.

Part 2: The Potential of Projects

When I considered how an English major might translate to the working world, the first project that came to mind was an essay I wrote for my 299 class. My primary source was my favorite film, Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms, and I focused on the film’s theme of motherhood. Through researching and writing, I dove into the multifaceted aspects of motherhood, exploring its themes of love, sacrifice, and societal expectations. By studying and pulling from books, personal memoirs, and scholarly articles, I gained insight into the different experiences of motherhood. I learned more about adoption versus birth mothers and the evolution of the mother-child relationship as both parties age. Through this research process, I got to better understand why people have children and the deep dedication and grit it takes to be a parent.

In an excerpt from Ramsey and Grobman, Major Decisions: College, Career, and the Case for the Humanities (2020): Chapter 4, “Beyond Jobs and Careers: The Enduring Value of the Humanities,” they discuss how English contributes to the common good. They explain that intellectual, artistic, and moral pursuits have intrinsic value. These types of pursuits (much like this essay) “enrich our lives and the lives of those around us. They open up new worlds and new ways of thinking to us, and they challenge our traditional, and sometimes even mindless or outdated, ways of thinking and acting” (54-55).

Going into this essay, I was convinced I would argue against being a mother. I sometimes feel as though having children as the main goal in everyone’s life is incredibly outdated. When I think about the world we live in and how difficult it is to be a “good” parent, I wonder why we do it. It was not until writing this essay that I began to change my mind. Not entirely, as I still have my reservations, but my empathy and understanding of this human experience expanded exponentially and can be applied in my future ventures.

The second project that seemed to have a sense of viability was a poem I wrote for a 220 poetry course over the summer. Poetry is something that I have loved my entire life but have not really been keen on sharing with other people. It was not until this class that I realized how important it is to share. The feedback I got from this particular poem was overwhelmingly positive and made me realize the power of sharing your work. I wrote about my memories in the house I grew up in, and although my childhood was pretty unorthodox, everyone commented about how they, too, had felt they grew up in that house. It was through this experience that I learned how easy it is to find commonality between people and how important it is to share your life through words.

The third project is a final paper I wrote for my ENGL 300 class. I chose to do the more creative writing option, and I ended up rewriting a couple of chapters of Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels from the perspective of a woman. As a primarily “man vs nature” novel, I found it incredibly interesting to reinvent it through the eyes of a woman. Going back to Ramsey and Grobman’s book, they discuss the importance of reading canon.

“Simply put, we teach the canon because it’s important to see where we’ve been, and much of the work is valuable…We believe that teaching the canon and challenges to the canon encourages students to question, interrogate, evaluate, and judge through and within all the complexities of history, power, ethics, justice, reason, facts, science, and more” (54).

I think being an English major, you can easily get bored or annoyed by how often we read “classics,” but I believe there is so much value in taking the time to do so. Through a project like this, I got to reimagine this old story from a completely new perspective. I began asking questions about what would change about the story (little things, big things)? How would the relationships in the novel develop differently? Would the portrayal of the relationship between humans and nature be different? Through this type of evaluation, I feel as though we gain so much from reading canon and classics. We better understand where we have been, where we are now, and where we want to go.

Pink Flamingos and Transferable Skills

Majoring in English has been so valuable to me personally because I feel like I’ve learned so much about many different areas of life. I’ve learned so much history, I’ve learned about culture, and I’ve learned the most about people. I think the ability to read, absorb, and critically analyze texts from all over the world has given me a lot of experience with people’s emotions and how they deal with them. I’ve been introduced to a lot of different stories, so, not to say that I’m prepared for ‘anything,’ but I feel as if I’ve experienced a lot.

One of the biggest ways that I could see my English skills being valuable to the job market is through my ability to deal with ambiguity, a trait that Anders talks about in “You Can Do Anything.” On page 109 he says that a liberal arts education has given us the knowledge of, “[how] to move forward as a researcher in the face of ambiguity.” 

In the past, I’ve seemed to have made it a habit to choose very interesting–my paper topics have been called “sophisticated” but I think that’s just a nice way to put it–yet difficult topics or arguments for my papers. Either they’re widely under-researched or not suited for the length of paper that I’m attempting (that is the paper would end up being a dissertation of sorts). There have been three major papers in my college career that I have had to spend a large portion of my time dealing with inadequate research, unconventional topics, and unfamiliar technology. 

“Like a septic tank explosion, it has to be seen to be believed.” -Detriot Free Press

One of my projects was a final paper for a class in which I had to compare a document from the Enlightenment, period, Alexander Pope’s ‘Essay on Criticism,’ and a contemporary piece of media; I chose John Waters’s film Pink Flamingos (1972). For the paper, I had to research reviews of the film when it originally was released, however, because Waters’s film was very underground–it only had midnight releases–this meant that many mainstream newspapers or magazines did not review the film.

Through some creative thinking and the help of the library research staff, I was able to find some really incredible authentic sources. I had to visualize my route to success before I knew what it was. In addition to that, the two pieces of media that I decided to compare were very different. this gave me the ability to work with material that usually doesn’t go together (these are two very different texts). Though the material itself was not unfamiliar, I still had to learn how to make two things that are not similar seem cohesive. 

Another one of these projects was a final paper for my American Film Genres class. I decided to write a paper on pirate movies, professionally known as the Swashbuckler genre. Without any prior knowledge of this genre, I began my research and I found it incredibly difficult to find history or journals of substance about the genre or answers as to why it’s not as popular as it once was (in the 1940s). My professor even gave me the option to change my topic before it was too late, but I stuck with it. Eventually, I scrounged together sources to begin my research. 

My information grew as did my paper. Though I still had very little to work with, it allowed me to look in interesting places to find information. From there I was able to create a comprehensive and clear final paper about the Swashbuckler genre. In the end, it was wonderful to be able to learn about something that not a lot of people know about but also kind of contribute to a subject that’s under-researched. My ability to come up with creative solutions, my “willingness to [keep] jump[ing] into new areas,” and my ability to create something out of very little are three qualities that I’ve learned from my English degree (87, Anders).

I also learned quickly how to work with media and equipment that I hadn’t worked with before when taking a Film Production class. Most of my time in college has been spent focusing on the academic and the writing part of film, so very recently I filmed my own short film for class. I “improvised my way to success”(81, Anders).

Is it good? No. Did it meet the rubric? No. Did I try my best and learn something new that I can now fine-tune? Absolutely and I’m glad I took the class even though I was scared out of my wits because I didn’t have any prior knowledge of filmmaking. Also, this is kind of like what Anders was talking about when people with Humanities degrees also take classes in coding; it’s about acquiring one new technical skill that opens up new jobs. Unfortunately, I do not have this project because it was on my computer that broke. Sorry.

In my first blog post, I talked a lot about empathy and how being sensitive has been a driving factor in my journey to graduating with an English degree. Though empathy has not helped me specifically with these projects, my ability to step into different spaces, see new angles, and work within uncomfortable circumstances with ease are very similar. The skills that I have as a person and acquired while in college are in no way “useless,” they just needed better explanations as to how they can benefit a company.

Black Milk Tea, Hold the Boba & Nature’s Delight

Part 1: One of My Many Delights

Reading Ross Gay’s ‘Book of Delights’ truly changed my perspective on the simple day-to-day occurrences of happiness in my life. Like most recently, it’s been a little challenging adapting to living on campus this semester in a dorm. For the entirety of my college career, I’ve lived off campus with my family. However, this semester I needed to move on campus because my partner separated from the Air Force and moved back where their family is in Texas. So, I’m not only living in an entirely new environment, but I’m also experiencing a familial lack for what feels like the first time in a while. Not an ideal situation for the last semester of my undergraduate studies but I’m making do, and this awesome tea house in North Charleston where I used to live called Gong Cha gives me comfort.

Lately, I’ve found myself making a fun little trip over there to get a large black milk tea (hold the boba; yeah I know that’s weird, the texture just doesn’t agree with me, don’t judge me) whenever I have a bit of free time. It’s not only the drink itself that’s a delight for me. It’s the entire process. I just recently bought a new car (my first “big girl” purchase) and get this… IT HAS A SUNROOF. I cannot tell you how much this delights me. So, I let the Charleston breeze waft through my car while I’m blasting my favorite tunes (using Apple CarPlay, which is a first for me) on my way to Gong Cha. Sometimes I’ll take a detour over the Ravenel Bridge because there’s something about that gigantic bridge overlooking Cooper River that makes me feel a little giddy. The drink tops off the whole experience. The blend of creamy, earthy goodness pleases me and I often find myself gulping slowly to let each taste bud in my mouth capture the flavor. Occasionally I’ll head across the street to Books-a-Million to peruse through the aisles, each book cover reminding me why I chose to be an English major in the first place. The stories. Anywhere there’s a plethora of books feels like home. I gently run my fingers across the covers, once in a while picking a book off its shelf to flip through the pages and inhale that fresh paper scent while peeking at its contents. On the ride back downtown to my dorm, I peacefully sit with my thoughts. Each time, the entire experience offers me a unique sense of calm and quiet that’s much needed in my busy day-to-day as an undergraduate senior.

Part 2: Podcast Narrative

For the first fourteen years of my life I lived in Southeast Michigan with my mom and older brother. I frequented local parks while growing up there since my childhood was before the explosion of technology we know today, and also because my older brother Shawn played baseball throughout his childhood. My mom would sit in her camping chair on the sidelines during his games while I’d playfully stomp through the playground and surrounding grassy fields with my best friend at the time named Katie, whose older brother also played baseball. Back then, I didn’t embody the profound realization that death was looming over all of us. I instead had a childlike wonder towards the tickling feeling of grass beneath my bare feet, the breeze of the wild tangling my long, brown hair. As I’ve experienced life however, and after reading Ross Gay’s poem ‘Thank You’ for the first time, I recognize there have been many times I’ve walked through a grassy area with my bare feet and felt an enduring sense of melancholy that comes with the realization of death which Gay criticizes in this poem. 

‘Thank You’ by Ross Gay

“If you find yourself half naked

and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing,

again, the earth’s great, sonorous moan that says

you are the air of the now and gone, that says

all you love will turn to dust,

and will meet you there, do not

raise your fist. Do not raise

your small voice against it. And do not

take cover. Instead, curl your toes

into the grass, watch the cloud

ascending from your lips. Walk

through the garden’s dormant splendor.

Say only, thank you.

Thank you.”

I’m a new consumer of Ross Gay’s work. I first read his 2019 collection of essays titled ‘Book of Delights,’ and this poem gives me the same sense of delight he highlights in that work, specifically gathering delight in things which remind us of our mortality. His personification of the earth using “sonorous moan” is an interesting tool and I think it connects the reader to mother earth in a profound way. The feeling of grass beneath one’s feet and wind, ground the reader in a sort of spectacular moment of realization that all things are one and impermanent. Gay suggests, however, to not allow our human emotion to ruin a moment in nature like this. Instead of feeling sorrowful or angry with mother earth, we should embrace her. Revel in the feeling of the grass tickling our bare feet, find consolation in observing the wind, the clouds, and the overall landscape. To be alive is to experience, and as such we must be grateful for this chance.

I think it’s interesting that this poem is fourteen lines, making it a sonnet, but it doesn’t adhere to an end-rhyme or iambic pentameter. This sort of narrative-like, lyrical quality to the poem, in my opinion, allows the reader to ruminate with what each word and line represents. There’s a wisdom Gay wants us to take away from the poem and apply to our everyday lives. When I think back on my childhood and other times when I’ve wandered through nature barefoot, there’s a strong contrast between the experiences. In childhood, there was a playful approach, yet in adulthood, I’ve been more inclined to associate nature with death. However, I think what Gay is trying to convey is that nature is playful and each time we experience it we should keep that experience as just that. We shouldn’t associate negative connotations with such an experience because to do so takes away from the present. We have no control over the inevitable future of loved ones passing away, of everything before us disappearing eventually. To savor the present is to be grateful for the now. And we’re the lucky ones.

‘Thank You’ by Ross Gay

“If you find yourself half naked

and barefoot in the frosty grass, hearing,

again, the earth’s great, sonorous moan that says

you are the air of the now and gone, that says

all you love will turn to dust,

and will meet you there, do not

raise your fist. Do not raise

your small voice against it. And do not

take cover. Instead, curl your toes

into the grass, watch the cloud

ascending from your lips. Walk

through the garden’s dormant splendor.

Say only, thank you.

Thank you.”

The relationship between values and viable skills

Blog Post 3 – Academic Work Inventory

English has been valuable to me personally in terms of individual development and creative development, but it has been extremely viable for me professionally, considering that I am planning to work in a career that is extremely focused on constant reading, drafting, and analysis, down to the most minute word. 

As a lawyer, I will need many of the skills depicted by the texts we’ve read (Anders’ “You Can Do Anything” and Madsbjerg’s “Sense-Making”), but the two most important for me will be Anders’ ideas of the “Rapport Sector,” and “Reading the Room.” As a lawyer, I plan to work in end-of-life law. This means that at the most basic level I will be working with people who are planning for death, people concerned with their legacy and their past. This means that I’ve got to be able to work with all types of people and I need to listen to them to discover exactly what they want. I need to be able to develop a rapport with my clients so that they will be open and honest (especially because the issues are typically sensitive, revolving around family issues or regrets). I also need to be able to read the room – I will be dealing with family members and other influencers, as well as other attorneys. I will need to be able to take all of these influencing factors into consideration while also remaining impartial.

I have learned many of these skills from being an English major undergrad, but there are three projects I’ve produced that showcase these skills:

  1. The Oral Histories of the Holocaust Project
  2. My Internship
  3. My Bachelor’s Essay

1: the Oral Histories Project

I enrolled in a small Jewish Studies class where each person was matched with a Holocaust survivor or descendant of a survivor, and we were set to interview them to learn about their personal story of survival, their experiences in immigrating, and their time as a South Carolinian. Although I knew a lot about Holocaust history, something new that I learned was how to listen without a script – especially with an interviewee with a voice as powerful as David Popowski. What I mean by this is that I learned how to listen fully without anticipating what was coming next and without focusing on what I was going to say next. I had been learning this skill for a while, but it culminated during our interview. It wasn’t necessarily new knowledge about the world, as I’d heard people talk about this forever, but it was new to me in the sense that it had been hiding in plain sight, covered by my ego. I had created a four page document with tons of questions and pathways to take, but after we got together, he threw everything off the rails. I didn’t even really get back to “leading” the interview until halfway through, but it was absolutely worth it. 

This practice shaped my own disposition and translated to my career path invaluably. As someone working with end-of-life patients, most of them realize that there is no fix. Most people then want a presence to be there for them and to listen. I don’t have it perfect, though. My ego still gets in the way at times, and sometimes I am simply too nervous about being perfect that it backfires. But this skill will work not only for end-of-life care, but any other career path I go into. It is always a good skill to be able to make people feel seen and heard.

2: My internship with the Virginia Attorney General

For summer 2023, I interned with the Virginia Attorney General, working with victims of violent crime. This wasn’t really something that I wanted to do (why didn’t they put me in the health law sector?), but it ended up being incredibly valuable for my career path. My job was to comfort victims and explain the appeals process to them. I was generally their one link between the person who changed their lives in a horrible way, and to justice. That sounds pretty lofty, but it really was often the case. Most of the people I worked with had zero experience with the legal system. Further, many of the clients were of different ethnicity, faith, and culture than me – which is exactly what Madsbjerg talks about with their idea of “Culture – Not Individuals”. We have to look to bridge the gap between peoples and see why people act the way they do.

3: My bachelor’s essay: “Jewish Views on End-of-Life Care”

My senior year bachelor’s essay is a literature review, survey, and interview collection that I have been working on for the past year and a half. This work is listed under sociology – it’s not a typical bachelor’s essay for an English major. It has been a ton of work, but what I’ve learned is that my skills from English are vitally transferable to other fields such as sociology and data analysis. Further, this project embodies Madsbjerg’s idea of “Thick Data – Not Just Thin Data” – I’m working beyond the statistics, gaining a holistic understanding of Jewish people’s views on end-of-life care engaging a more human experience, rather than an answer to my question on a scale of one to five. 

Many of these English values are the same as what I discussed in my first blog post – the value of an interdisciplinary degree and the value of an empathetic degree that allows one to work with people from many different worlds. What’s so interesting is that these values are distinctly human – the value of connection, of listening, of noticing, of being. That means that values and viability are often quite closely connected, which is something important to think about for us humanities students.