Topic 1
Over the past several weeks, we have been working out of the "Apparel Merchandising and Social Responsibility" unit of Academic Universe. A helpful way to think about these essays is that they are arguments of problem and solution. The problem is unfair labor practices, specifically sweat shops and child labor. The solution is the Fair Trade movement. You've read essays that address unfair labor as a crime of humanity, as a necessary evil, and even as a beneficial first step toward development. You've also read articles that address the Fair Trade movement as a cultural and economic revolution, and as a naive non-solution.
Using these arguments as support for your own opinions, compose a post that argues whether or not your group sees Fair Trade as a solution to the problems involving unfair labor practices. Support your view point. You may also do some fast interbet research to find websites or videos that support or inform your view.
Topic 2
Last class, we discussed the importance of being a critical consumer of internet sources. Write a blog that assumes internet initiates as an audience explaining the importance of critical literacy of websites and give some guidelines for evaluating internet sources. Just as we looked at websites about the same topic in class to determine the reliability of these sites, you may find and link to examples explaining which site is more reliable and why.
Showing posts with label examples. Show all posts
Showing posts with label examples. Show all posts
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Three Literacy Narratives
This post is an example of Topic 2 for 1/28.
Jeff and Charissa, both teachers and avowed smarty-pants(es?) and Kara, a computer scientist, turned stay-at-home mom answer the question "What are your earliest memories of reading?"
Jeff:
I don't remember much about learning to read. I can remember having children's books around with gold spines and adolescent books handed down from my aunt. But I don't remember phonics drills, or sounding words out or any of the things commonly associated with kindergarten education. My memories of anything come surprisingly late, and children in my family learned to read early. I do though remember when I decided to love reading.
On my birthday one year, I was given a book about astronauts and cosmonauts and a paperback dictionary by my Opa (Opa is German for "grandfather;" he is from Maine, but he married a German woman. She took his last name, but he took her language. Thus, they were Oma and Opa [German] Munsey [Irish].) Though I had been raised around the thin gold spined books, these were the first that were actually mine and mine alone. This gift, then, represented ownership and this a kind of adulthood.
Also wrapped up in this was the fact that, technically, my Opa was my step-Opa. He is the father of my mother's second husband. And though as an adult I have always considered my step-family my real family (I don't even remember my mother marrying my step-father), I imagine that at that young age I may have still had a childish understanding that this was a new, not-quite-real family. The books then were also a sign of acceptance from a man I really admired, but with whom my relationship must have felt tenuous.
Charissa:
My earliest memories of reading involve my father reading to my brothers and me every night before bed. My favorite book was "Could be Worse." The only thing I remember about the book is that it mentioned orange marmalade. I thought "marmalade" was such a pretty word, and yet sounded so disgusting. I insisted we read the book every night, and before long I had the story memorized and would "read" the book to my baby brother.
Kara:
I was 4 years old in my first memory of reading Dr. Suess' "The Cat in the Hat". I was sitting next to my mother on the couch in the living room of our small house in Dallas, Texas. I knew how to read all the "at" words, but had to sound ou...t others. There were other little books I read in my pre-K school. The one I remember was titled "Matt the Rat". I only remember it because my older brother Matt hated that I kept saying the name of that book over and over again. These memories make me smile, and make me anxious for the days when I can share these moments with my own children.
Reading is a Family Thing:
All three of our narratives mention family members. In both Charissa and Kara's stories, their parents read to them in the home. In mine, I was given books to read by my Opa. Stories like these dominate literacy narratives. Family sponsorship (to borrow the term from Deborah Brandt) is the common theme in literacy narratives. It is also the most noticeably absent among folks who are illiterate. This suggests that literacy may be more closely tied to the home than it is to general intelligence, school teaching practices, or anything else. Thus, a person's literate potential may be closely tied to their home lives, and in fighting illiteracy, the battle is one fought on home soil.
Jeff and Charissa, both teachers and avowed smarty-pants(es?) and Kara, a computer scientist, turned stay-at-home mom answer the question "What are your earliest memories of reading?"
Jeff:
I don't remember much about learning to read. I can remember having children's books around with gold spines and adolescent books handed down from my aunt. But I don't remember phonics drills, or sounding words out or any of the things commonly associated with kindergarten education. My memories of anything come surprisingly late, and children in my family learned to read early. I do though remember when I decided to love reading.
On my birthday one year, I was given a book about astronauts and cosmonauts and a paperback dictionary by my Opa (Opa is German for "grandfather;" he is from Maine, but he married a German woman. She took his last name, but he took her language. Thus, they were Oma and Opa [German] Munsey [Irish].) Though I had been raised around the thin gold spined books, these were the first that were actually mine and mine alone. This gift, then, represented ownership and this a kind of adulthood.
Also wrapped up in this was the fact that, technically, my Opa was my step-Opa. He is the father of my mother's second husband. And though as an adult I have always considered my step-family my real family (I don't even remember my mother marrying my step-father), I imagine that at that young age I may have still had a childish understanding that this was a new, not-quite-real family. The books then were also a sign of acceptance from a man I really admired, but with whom my relationship must have felt tenuous.
Charissa:
My earliest memories of reading involve my father reading to my brothers and me every night before bed. My favorite book was "Could be Worse." The only thing I remember about the book is that it mentioned orange marmalade. I thought "marmalade" was such a pretty word, and yet sounded so disgusting. I insisted we read the book every night, and before long I had the story memorized and would "read" the book to my baby brother.
Kara:
I was 4 years old in my first memory of reading Dr. Suess' "The Cat in the Hat". I was sitting next to my mother on the couch in the living room of our small house in Dallas, Texas. I knew how to read all the "at" words, but had to sound ou...t others. There were other little books I read in my pre-K school. The one I remember was titled "Matt the Rat". I only remember it because my older brother Matt hated that I kept saying the name of that book over and over again. These memories make me smile, and make me anxious for the days when I can share these moments with my own children.
Reading is a Family Thing:
All three of our narratives mention family members. In both Charissa and Kara's stories, their parents read to them in the home. In mine, I was given books to read by my Opa. Stories like these dominate literacy narratives. Family sponsorship (to borrow the term from Deborah Brandt) is the common theme in literacy narratives. It is also the most noticeably absent among folks who are illiterate. This suggests that literacy may be more closely tied to the home than it is to general intelligence, school teaching practices, or anything else. Thus, a person's literate potential may be closely tied to their home lives, and in fighting illiteracy, the battle is one fought on home soil.
Duchamp: Post Modern Forerunner; Practical Jokester
This blog is an example of Topic 1 for 1/28.
In 1917, while in New York, French artist Marcel Duchamp bought a urinal from an iron works company, signed it "R. Mutt" and called it "Fountain." The piece (if indeed it is one) has been considered a practical joke, but has also been taken quite seriously. Duchamp added the piece to his collection of found art objects which he had titled "Readymades." In 1915, Duchamp began displaying every day objects in artful ways in order to critique the adoration of art and the artist. Though there is as much playfulness in his movement as there is philosophy, his concept of found art, and his statements behind it pre-figured important post-modern ideas, a few decades before post-modernism became all the rage in Europe.
With his found art movement, Duchamp intended to question what defines art. Where does craftsmanship or utility end and where does art begin? What makes one piece of white earthenware featuring graceful geometric curves art, and what makes another a urinal?
Duchamp, who was critical of artist worship, played with the notion that by signing something and putting it in a gallery, one elevates it as art. This is particularly true if the signature is that of a well-respected artist. In fact, what allowed many 20th century artists to experiment with deconstructive styles was that they were already accomplished artists. Picasso's cubism might never have been accepted if not for his more traditional early work, his almost Classical Rose Period, and the aesthetically pleasing Blue Period. But, because he was who he was, he was able to experiment. People would expect the sometimes childish looking work of cubism because it had his name on it.
Duchamp seemed to recognize this ability, and he purposefully questioned this by simply signing every day objects, and placing them in galleries, knowing that folks would therefore call this work art.
This suggests then that the label "art" is arbitrary. The fact that "Fountain" was critically received as art (it was, in fact, named the most influential art work of the 20th century in 2004), suggests this. It's acclaim clearly had nothing to do with the graceful, arching lines of the urinal, or the pure white color, or the perfect classical geometry of its shape. If this were so, it would have been the original craftsman who made the first of these who would deserve credit as "artist." Instead, Duchamp signed a pseudonym on it, included it in a gallery show, and it was art, simply because the right person (Duchamp) put it in the right place (a gallery).
This attack on the arbitrary nature of art is decidedly post-modern. Duchamp questions to what extent art is art because it has some intrinsic quality, or to what extent is art art simply because someone decided that it was. In this way Duchamp is, in 1917, already doing what post-modern thought would do just after World War II, decades later.
In 1917, while in New York, French artist Marcel Duchamp bought a urinal from an iron works company, signed it "R. Mutt" and called it "Fountain." The piece (if indeed it is one) has been considered a practical joke, but has also been taken quite seriously. Duchamp added the piece to his collection of found art objects which he had titled "Readymades." In 1915, Duchamp began displaying every day objects in artful ways in order to critique the adoration of art and the artist. Though there is as much playfulness in his movement as there is philosophy, his concept of found art, and his statements behind it pre-figured important post-modern ideas, a few decades before post-modernism became all the rage in Europe. With his found art movement, Duchamp intended to question what defines art. Where does craftsmanship or utility end and where does art begin? What makes one piece of white earthenware featuring graceful geometric curves art, and what makes another a urinal?
Duchamp, who was critical of artist worship, played with the notion that by signing something and putting it in a gallery, one elevates it as art. This is particularly true if the signature is that of a well-respected artist. In fact, what allowed many 20th century artists to experiment with deconstructive styles was that they were already accomplished artists. Picasso's cubism might never have been accepted if not for his more traditional early work, his almost Classical Rose Period, and the aesthetically pleasing Blue Period. But, because he was who he was, he was able to experiment. People would expect the sometimes childish looking work of cubism because it had his name on it.
Duchamp seemed to recognize this ability, and he purposefully questioned this by simply signing every day objects, and placing them in galleries, knowing that folks would therefore call this work art.
This suggests then that the label "art" is arbitrary. The fact that "Fountain" was critically received as art (it was, in fact, named the most influential art work of the 20th century in 2004), suggests this. It's acclaim clearly had nothing to do with the graceful, arching lines of the urinal, or the pure white color, or the perfect classical geometry of its shape. If this were so, it would have been the original craftsman who made the first of these who would deserve credit as "artist." Instead, Duchamp signed a pseudonym on it, included it in a gallery show, and it was art, simply because the right person (Duchamp) put it in the right place (a gallery).
This attack on the arbitrary nature of art is decidedly post-modern. Duchamp questions to what extent art is art because it has some intrinsic quality, or to what extent is art art simply because someone decided that it was. In this way Duchamp is, in 1917, already doing what post-modern thought would do just after World War II, decades later.
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