Dear New APELC Student,
Welcome to AP English Language and Composition! This class may be one of the most challenging classes you have taken so far in your high school career, but don't fret–if my peers and I survived this year, I'm sure you will have no problem taking on the work that this course demands. This letter will hopefully clear up many misconceptions about APELC, give you many tips for this school year, and offer morale-boosting encouragement for when the going gets tough. First off, the workload is not as bad as one would think. Most of the homework assigned to us were either TOWS or readings, and there was the occasional multiple choice practice passage or essay. Be sure to always be on top of those assignments. Missing a TOW can affect your grade and keep you behind on developing the writing skills necessary for the AP exam. If you miss a reading assignment, you will have no idea what to do when you're handed a pop quiz on that assignment the next day.
Secondly, everything seems much harder in the beginning of the school year. The first test you take or timed essay you write may be one of the worst grades you've ever gotten, but with hard work, you will be able to take those tests and write those essays with no problems. I would say that I had a tough first marking period, but I think that was simply because I was just starting my junior year and I wasn't used to rigorous AP courses. By the end of the first marking period, I figured out how to balance out the work among all my classes and I saw a great improvement from my first to my second and third marking periods.
Timed essays were really hard for me to write in the beginning of the school year because I would always read the essay prompt and then get writer's block. 45 minutes was not enough for me to write just one essay, and on the AP exam, we're only given around an average of 40 minutes per essay (that's right: you have to write three essays on the exam.) However, once I practiced more and read challenging nonfiction pieces, I could outline my ideas faster. I found Analysis essays to be the hardest essays to write, and although I still find them hard to write, I was more confident in writing them on May 9 than I was in September, and I owe that to TOWs, IRBs, the Language of Composition, etc. Basically, I think the best way to get better at writing essays is to read more sophisticated nonfiction works and to practice analyzing them. Having to write three essays is very intimidating, but once you're sitting in the square gym and taking the AP exam, everything will easily come to you. Trust me. I hope this letter was helpful and that my impartial opinions gave you a good idea of what APELC really is and what you need to do to succeed. Good luck!
From,
Old APELC Student
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
TOW #29: Documentary Rhetorical Analysis (Part 2)
Directed by David Gleb, "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is a documentary that has much to say about the importance of hard work. Jiro Ono, an 85-year-old man, is the owner of one of the most renowned sushi restaurants in the world, and he states the secret to his success is his determination and training. He is so involved in his sushi making that he claims to have even dreamed of making sushi. He trains his apprentices the way he feels is best: getting them up early in the morning to do their tasks, whether it's roasting seaweed or massaging octopi, and repeating that process for years before they perfect it. One apprentice even claimed that it takes about ten years before one can even dream of making a fried egg. "Jiro Dreams of Sushi's" claim that hard work and determination is the best way to achieve success is correct as shown through the lives of many, including my own parents.
Both of my parents grew up in India and lived there until they were in their 30's. When they were young, they obviously did not have access to the type of technology we have these days, and since they lived in a developing country, they often went without electricity and lived in poor conditions. My dad was the first in his family to attend college and have a professional degree. They were both completing their residencies when they had my older sister, and they moved to Saudi Arabia a couple years later, where they had my other sister. My mom stopped working for a bit, and my family moved to England, where both of my sisters grew up. In 1996, my dad got a job offer in the United States, and they all packed their bags to move for the final time. Unfortunately, the United States does not allow attending physicians to have practiced their residencies in different countries, so my mom and my dad had to do their residencies all over again while taking care of three children. They claim that growing up, they never had even thought about living in America or having lifestyles as good as the ones they have now. Because of all of their hard work, my mom and my dad got the successful lives they wanted, and they continue to pass down the value of hard work to me and my sisters.
Many people work hard in order to get what they want: Liz Murray went from being homeless as a high schooler to a Harvard graduate, Oprah Winfrey went from abuse and hunger to being one of the most well-known women in the world, and Jiro Ono went from being an unknown war veteran to the owner of one of the most successful sushi restaurants in the world. "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is just one of millions of stories that claim one of the truest claims there is: hard work pays off in the end.
Both of my parents grew up in India and lived there until they were in their 30's. When they were young, they obviously did not have access to the type of technology we have these days, and since they lived in a developing country, they often went without electricity and lived in poor conditions. My dad was the first in his family to attend college and have a professional degree. They were both completing their residencies when they had my older sister, and they moved to Saudi Arabia a couple years later, where they had my other sister. My mom stopped working for a bit, and my family moved to England, where both of my sisters grew up. In 1996, my dad got a job offer in the United States, and they all packed their bags to move for the final time. Unfortunately, the United States does not allow attending physicians to have practiced their residencies in different countries, so my mom and my dad had to do their residencies all over again while taking care of three children. They claim that growing up, they never had even thought about living in America or having lifestyles as good as the ones they have now. Because of all of their hard work, my mom and my dad got the successful lives they wanted, and they continue to pass down the value of hard work to me and my sisters.
Many people work hard in order to get what they want: Liz Murray went from being homeless as a high schooler to a Harvard graduate, Oprah Winfrey went from abuse and hunger to being one of the most well-known women in the world, and Jiro Ono went from being an unknown war veteran to the owner of one of the most successful sushi restaurants in the world. "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is just one of millions of stories that claim one of the truest claims there is: hard work pays off in the end.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
TOW #28: Documentary Rhetorical Analysis (Part 1)
Reading/watching goals: identify purpose and devices/strategies used bey filmmakers to achieve it
Writing goals: don't spend too much time on the summary; focus on analysis
"Jiro Dreams of Sushi," a documentary directed by David Gelb, profiles Jiro Ono, an 85-year-old sushi chef who, despite his old age, is considered one of the most talented sushi chefs in the entire world. His restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro, has been rated three stars by Michelin Guide, a series of guidebooks published by Michelin annually. This documentary follows the life of Jiro Ono and contemplates the origin of his restaurant's success and popularity. Jiro himself believes that his hard work is the reason for his success: he and his workers claim that practice and repetition brings much improvement. His–and his restaurant's–story is a story of simplicity, discipline, and rigor. In fact, Jiro's two sons, Yoshikazu and Takashi, started working for their father as soon as they finished high school, even though both had hoped to attend college. Apprentices are said to wait many years before they can even touch a food that seems as simple as an egg; one scene of the documentary shows an apprentice recounting a time when he tried making an egg over 250 times until he was told that he finally made a good one. It was a while before Jiro called the man "shokunin," a Japanese word meaning "craftsman" or "artisan." Even though this surely took a lot of the man's time, he was ecstatic when he was praised by his boss. "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is a film for those who have a dream or goal they want to attain, because it's story reminds them that with lots of hard work and discipline, they can achieve anything.
Jiro's, his sons', and his apprentices' stories all have one thing in common: they are all about their individual determination to achieve perfection. This documentary's purpose is to illustrate the importance of these traits. The filmmakers did much to recreate the simplicity of Jiro's life: there was no background narration in the film, and whatever music was playing was always very light and fitting for each scene. Overall, the film's tone was very natural and sincere. Pacing and framing also contributed much to the tone: everything was very genuine but also very refined, just like Jiro's lifestyle. These devices help the filmmakers achieve their purpose because they echo the entire message of the film that was delivered by Jiro himself: simplicity and hard work always pay off in the end. Without any narration or music, "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" tells a simple story.
"Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is told from the point of view of an outsider and is filled with interviews of co-workers, fish sellers, and old friends. This way, the viewer is able to make his or her own observations about Jiro and his work ethic while simultaneously getting stories and opinions from those who know him personally. When one first looks at Jiro, one simply sees an elderly man and may assume that he is retired. However, once the viewer watches the film and hears about Jiro through the eyes of Yoshikazu or Takashi or a renowned food critic, he or she sees him as more than an 85-year-old man: an 85-year-old man who dedicated 75 years of his life doing what he loves to do, hoping to pass it on to others around him.
Writing goals: don't spend too much time on the summary; focus on analysis
"Jiro Dreams of Sushi," a documentary directed by David Gelb, profiles Jiro Ono, an 85-year-old sushi chef who, despite his old age, is considered one of the most talented sushi chefs in the entire world. His restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro, has been rated three stars by Michelin Guide, a series of guidebooks published by Michelin annually. This documentary follows the life of Jiro Ono and contemplates the origin of his restaurant's success and popularity. Jiro himself believes that his hard work is the reason for his success: he and his workers claim that practice and repetition brings much improvement. His–and his restaurant's–story is a story of simplicity, discipline, and rigor. In fact, Jiro's two sons, Yoshikazu and Takashi, started working for their father as soon as they finished high school, even though both had hoped to attend college. Apprentices are said to wait many years before they can even touch a food that seems as simple as an egg; one scene of the documentary shows an apprentice recounting a time when he tried making an egg over 250 times until he was told that he finally made a good one. It was a while before Jiro called the man "shokunin," a Japanese word meaning "craftsman" or "artisan." Even though this surely took a lot of the man's time, he was ecstatic when he was praised by his boss. "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is a film for those who have a dream or goal they want to attain, because it's story reminds them that with lots of hard work and discipline, they can achieve anything.
Jiro's, his sons', and his apprentices' stories all have one thing in common: they are all about their individual determination to achieve perfection. This documentary's purpose is to illustrate the importance of these traits. The filmmakers did much to recreate the simplicity of Jiro's life: there was no background narration in the film, and whatever music was playing was always very light and fitting for each scene. Overall, the film's tone was very natural and sincere. Pacing and framing also contributed much to the tone: everything was very genuine but also very refined, just like Jiro's lifestyle. These devices help the filmmakers achieve their purpose because they echo the entire message of the film that was delivered by Jiro himself: simplicity and hard work always pay off in the end. Without any narration or music, "Jiro Dreams of Sushi" tells a simple story.
"Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is told from the point of view of an outsider and is filled with interviews of co-workers, fish sellers, and old friends. This way, the viewer is able to make his or her own observations about Jiro and his work ethic while simultaneously getting stories and opinions from those who know him personally. When one first looks at Jiro, one simply sees an elderly man and may assume that he is retired. However, once the viewer watches the film and hears about Jiro through the eyes of Yoshikazu or Takashi or a renowned food critic, he or she sees him as more than an 85-year-old man: an 85-year-old man who dedicated 75 years of his life doing what he loves to do, hoping to pass it on to others around him.
"Jiro Dreams of Sushi" is available on Netflix
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
TOW #27: TOW Reflection
Reading goals: identify what I have improved on and what I need to work on in my previous TOWs
Writing goals: refrain from only answering the questions; elaborate on them
The first TOW of mine that I chose to take a look at was my very first: "Overpopulation is Not the Problem" by Erle C. Ellis. Upon reading this TOW, I noticed that I mentioned rhetorical concepts (ethos, pathos, and logos) instead of actual rhetorical devices. I also typed everything out as if I were fulfilling each TOW requirement like a checklist. When I looked at my TOW from the second marking period, "The Scream" by Edvard Munch, I was glad to see that I wrote about many rhetorical devices in visual texts, like color scheme and imagery, and I focused on expanding ideas on how those devices helped Munch achieve his purpose. My third and most recent TOW, "Castles in the Air" by Emily Nussbaum, was from The New Yorker, which demonstrates my progression through more challenging pieces. This particular piece was kind of tough because I was not sure about the purpose Nussbaum had in writing it. However, when I thought about the intended audience, the purpose came to me easily. My TOWs have progressed in such a way that I stopped worrying about satisfying the requirements and started worrying about writing a better blog post.
Looking at my more recent TOWs, I think I have mastered identifying rhetorical devices and connecting them to the author's purpose depending on the particular piece I choose to read. In addition to this, I think I've gotten better at making my posts seem more interesting and involved as opposed to the more formulaic way of writing I had in the beginning of the year. I still think I need to work on keeping them concise, because I think I went well over the desired word count a good number of times, and I could always work more on making my own writing effective and achieving my own purpose. Overall, I think I benefitted from writing TOWs because I was able to practice my writing every single week without having to write a full out timed essay. I think I definitely got better at writing and reading because of the skills that I improved by writing TOWs.
Writing goals: refrain from only answering the questions; elaborate on them
The first TOW of mine that I chose to take a look at was my very first: "Overpopulation is Not the Problem" by Erle C. Ellis. Upon reading this TOW, I noticed that I mentioned rhetorical concepts (ethos, pathos, and logos) instead of actual rhetorical devices. I also typed everything out as if I were fulfilling each TOW requirement like a checklist. When I looked at my TOW from the second marking period, "The Scream" by Edvard Munch, I was glad to see that I wrote about many rhetorical devices in visual texts, like color scheme and imagery, and I focused on expanding ideas on how those devices helped Munch achieve his purpose. My third and most recent TOW, "Castles in the Air" by Emily Nussbaum, was from The New Yorker, which demonstrates my progression through more challenging pieces. This particular piece was kind of tough because I was not sure about the purpose Nussbaum had in writing it. However, when I thought about the intended audience, the purpose came to me easily. My TOWs have progressed in such a way that I stopped worrying about satisfying the requirements and started worrying about writing a better blog post.
Looking at my more recent TOWs, I think I have mastered identifying rhetorical devices and connecting them to the author's purpose depending on the particular piece I choose to read. In addition to this, I think I've gotten better at making my posts seem more interesting and involved as opposed to the more formulaic way of writing I had in the beginning of the year. I still think I need to work on keeping them concise, because I think I went well over the desired word count a good number of times, and I could always work more on making my own writing effective and achieving my own purpose. Overall, I think I benefitted from writing TOWs because I was able to practice my writing every single week without having to write a full out timed essay. I think I definitely got better at writing and reading because of the skills that I improved by writing TOWs.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
TOW #26: "Hunger Games" by Sophie Brinkman
Reading goals: correctly identify author's purpose
Writing goals: keep everything concise and coherent
Our society is infatuated with all the latest fads: social networking sites, impossible iPhone games, and chia seeds. Sophie Brickman, editor, reporter for San Francisco Chronicle, and food enthusiast explores our country's obsession with food fads. She opens her article talking about the Cronut–"the croissant-doughnut hybrid, trademarked, to distinguish it from copycat Singaporean 'crodos,' British 'dosants,' and Venezuelan 'Mister Cronuts.'" As she continues her article, she mentions more recent fads, like cupcakes and Greek yogurt. She also mentions David Sax, another food enthusiast and journalist, who argues that successful food trends are a result of social conditions. Brickman's purpose is to explain our society's interest in food trends through involved tone. However, she fails to achieve her purpose as the use of specific examples would have been more effective and appropriate for her piece.
"Hunger Games," meant for an audience of curious adults, is written with involved diction as Brickman clearly showed interest in her topic. She does not only include Sax's opinions on food trends–she comments on them and adds her own ideas. Sax concludes that America's addiction to cupcakes stems from a "desire for comfort and childhood simplicity after 9/11" and that fondue became popular in the sixties "when people were moving out to the suburbs and wanted something that could make this living room in suburban New Jersey a little more sophisticated than...a Jell-O salad would." Brickman then follows this up by writing, "Of course, Jell-O salads and boxed cake mixes...were all the rage in [Sax's] grandmother's postwar kitchen." Through her involved diction, Brickman portrays her clear interest in food trends, but she does not exactly explain to her audience what kind of social conditions are explaining the sudden public demand for Greek yogurt. If she used specific current examples of food trends, Brickman would have more effectively achieved her purpose of explaining our society's interest in food trends.
Writing goals: keep everything concise and coherent
Our society is infatuated with all the latest fads: social networking sites, impossible iPhone games, and chia seeds. Sophie Brickman, editor, reporter for San Francisco Chronicle, and food enthusiast explores our country's obsession with food fads. She opens her article talking about the Cronut–"the croissant-doughnut hybrid, trademarked, to distinguish it from copycat Singaporean 'crodos,' British 'dosants,' and Venezuelan 'Mister Cronuts.'" As she continues her article, she mentions more recent fads, like cupcakes and Greek yogurt. She also mentions David Sax, another food enthusiast and journalist, who argues that successful food trends are a result of social conditions. Brickman's purpose is to explain our society's interest in food trends through involved tone. However, she fails to achieve her purpose as the use of specific examples would have been more effective and appropriate for her piece.
"Hunger Games," meant for an audience of curious adults, is written with involved diction as Brickman clearly showed interest in her topic. She does not only include Sax's opinions on food trends–she comments on them and adds her own ideas. Sax concludes that America's addiction to cupcakes stems from a "desire for comfort and childhood simplicity after 9/11" and that fondue became popular in the sixties "when people were moving out to the suburbs and wanted something that could make this living room in suburban New Jersey a little more sophisticated than...a Jell-O salad would." Brickman then follows this up by writing, "Of course, Jell-O salads and boxed cake mixes...were all the rage in [Sax's] grandmother's postwar kitchen." Through her involved diction, Brickman portrays her clear interest in food trends, but she does not exactly explain to her audience what kind of social conditions are explaining the sudden public demand for Greek yogurt. If she used specific current examples of food trends, Brickman would have more effectively achieved her purpose of explaining our society's interest in food trends.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
TOW #25: "Castles in the Air" by Emily Nussbaum
Reading goals: understand and correctly identify the author's purpose
Writing goals: include all information about the article and rhetorical devices in a concise, coherent writing piece
Talking shape-shifting dogs, kidnapping ice kings, scientific candy princesses–author Emily Nussbaum correctly describes all of these things as "dreamlike" but also "druglike." Whoever may come across these adjectives may think that they are being used to describe some crazy dream or a painting by a modern surrealist. However, Nussbaum is describing a TV show that airs on Cartoon Network: "Adventure Time." In her article "Castles in the Air," Emily Nussbaum discusses the complexity in a story that otherwise seems childish and harmless. By using vivid diction, Nussbaum achieves her purpose of illustrating what many may not know about the show "Adventure Time"–on the surface, the children's TV show seems very frivolous and trivial, but the background hints at something much larger and more complex than an everyday cartoon.
Emily Nussbaum is a writer who previously worked for New York but is now a TV critic for The New Yorker. She writes about various popular TV shows, including "True Detective," "Mad Men," and "Sherlock," telling adults who read The New Yorker about shows they may want to keep an eye on. "Adventure Time" sticks out on her list of reviewed shows because it isn't one that most adults have watched or even heard of. Nussbaum initially describes "Adventure Time" as a light-hearted story in which "a good-hearted human boy named Finn and his dog, Jake, a gruff-voiced wingman type, were brought up as siblings." Sounds simple enough. "But," she continues, "as the series progresses, an eerie backstory emerges." She reveals that the show is actually about a post-war world in which all humans have either died or mutated into something else, besides Finn. She continues this thought by studying some of the eccentric characters the show offers–the Ice King, "who keeps trying to kidnap princesses and marry them," and Marceline, "a punk-goth vampire [who] has a mobster-like dad." Behind what seems like a very quirky and cheery atmosphere is actually a world ruined by war and other conflicts: "the background hints at a ruined world: missiles poke out, and abandoned technology is everywhere. Bodies morph grotesquely–when Marceline's father gets angry, he transforms from a businessman into a demon with an ass face" Nussbaum writes, possibly hinting that no matter how ridiculous "Adventure Time" is, it is still as real as any realistic fiction TV show for adults. By describing parts of a children's show as "goofy" get "grotesque [at points,]" Nussbaum effectively achieves her purpose of showing adults that even a show about a little boy, his stretchy talking dog, frustrated lemon-heads, and southern elephants can have an insightful message.
Writing goals: include all information about the article and rhetorical devices in a concise, coherent writing piece
Talking shape-shifting dogs, kidnapping ice kings, scientific candy princesses–author Emily Nussbaum correctly describes all of these things as "dreamlike" but also "druglike." Whoever may come across these adjectives may think that they are being used to describe some crazy dream or a painting by a modern surrealist. However, Nussbaum is describing a TV show that airs on Cartoon Network: "Adventure Time." In her article "Castles in the Air," Emily Nussbaum discusses the complexity in a story that otherwise seems childish and harmless. By using vivid diction, Nussbaum achieves her purpose of illustrating what many may not know about the show "Adventure Time"–on the surface, the children's TV show seems very frivolous and trivial, but the background hints at something much larger and more complex than an everyday cartoon.
Emily Nussbaum is a writer who previously worked for New York but is now a TV critic for The New Yorker. She writes about various popular TV shows, including "True Detective," "Mad Men," and "Sherlock," telling adults who read The New Yorker about shows they may want to keep an eye on. "Adventure Time" sticks out on her list of reviewed shows because it isn't one that most adults have watched or even heard of. Nussbaum initially describes "Adventure Time" as a light-hearted story in which "a good-hearted human boy named Finn and his dog, Jake, a gruff-voiced wingman type, were brought up as siblings." Sounds simple enough. "But," she continues, "as the series progresses, an eerie backstory emerges." She reveals that the show is actually about a post-war world in which all humans have either died or mutated into something else, besides Finn. She continues this thought by studying some of the eccentric characters the show offers–the Ice King, "who keeps trying to kidnap princesses and marry them," and Marceline, "a punk-goth vampire [who] has a mobster-like dad." Behind what seems like a very quirky and cheery atmosphere is actually a world ruined by war and other conflicts: "the background hints at a ruined world: missiles poke out, and abandoned technology is everywhere. Bodies morph grotesquely–when Marceline's father gets angry, he transforms from a businessman into a demon with an ass face" Nussbaum writes, possibly hinting that no matter how ridiculous "Adventure Time" is, it is still as real as any realistic fiction TV show for adults. By describing parts of a children's show as "goofy" get "grotesque [at points,]" Nussbaum effectively achieves her purpose of showing adults that even a show about a little boy, his stretchy talking dog, frustrated lemon-heads, and southern elephants can have an insightful message.
"Adventure Time," a quirky, colorful children's show, can actually tell you much about the real world
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
TOW #24: Volkswagen Park Assist Advertisement (Visual Text)
Reading goals: identify many rhetorical devices/strategies present in the ad
Writing goals: keep things consistent and refrain from being too formulaic in writing
Volkswagen, a popular car company, effectively achieved its purpose of advertising its new precision parking feature in its new advertisement through the use of humor and analogy. The advertisement depicts a single porcupine surrounded by goldfish in plastic bags, with the only text being, "Precision Parking. Park Assist by Volkswagen." By using these animals, the advertisement has a very lighthearted and humorous nature that helps Volkswagen appeal to its audience of drivers of any age. The analogy of a porcupine to the viewer's car and the bags of goldfish to surrounding cars goes hand-in-hand with this humorous nature because although its use of animals is funny, its analogy is very real: parallel parking a car can be as dangerous as trying to fit a porcupine between delicate bags full of goldfish.
This text also plays a role as an enthymeme: it conveys an argument as its purpose is to persuade viewers to buy Volkswagen cars with the new Park Assist feature. The major premise states that a porcupine has to be carefully "parked" between bags of goldfish while the minor premise states that Volkswagen's Park Assist can park cars between other cars as carefully as the porcupine is parked between the goldfish. By using this analogy, Volkswagen can easily get its point across about its Park Assist feature without being as dull and overdone as other car advertisements.
Writing goals: keep things consistent and refrain from being too formulaic in writing
Volkswagen, a popular car company, effectively achieved its purpose of advertising its new precision parking feature in its new advertisement through the use of humor and analogy. The advertisement depicts a single porcupine surrounded by goldfish in plastic bags, with the only text being, "Precision Parking. Park Assist by Volkswagen." By using these animals, the advertisement has a very lighthearted and humorous nature that helps Volkswagen appeal to its audience of drivers of any age. The analogy of a porcupine to the viewer's car and the bags of goldfish to surrounding cars goes hand-in-hand with this humorous nature because although its use of animals is funny, its analogy is very real: parallel parking a car can be as dangerous as trying to fit a porcupine between delicate bags full of goldfish.
This text also plays a role as an enthymeme: it conveys an argument as its purpose is to persuade viewers to buy Volkswagen cars with the new Park Assist feature. The major premise states that a porcupine has to be carefully "parked" between bags of goldfish while the minor premise states that Volkswagen's Park Assist can park cars between other cars as carefully as the porcupine is parked between the goldfish. By using this analogy, Volkswagen can easily get its point across about its Park Assist feature without being as dull and overdone as other car advertisements.
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