Writing Before Dartmouth

Stamford High School, Stamford CT

Stamford High School, Stamford CT

Developmental Reflection

As a writer in high school, I had two distinct prose styles. The first, my formalized writing voice, developed over years of MLA style workshops and research papers. In addition, AP Language condensed my personal commentary and taught me how to balance evidence and argument throughout paragraphs. In many ways, the core of my writing style is embedded in these tactics.

My narrative voice, evident in my college essay speaks more of my personality. For me, writing has always been an opportunity to explore my thoughts and quirks. My college essay does exactly that. It pinpoints a personal experience I am able to reflect upon it without worrying about format or language.

Yet between these two styles, I still need to improve my ability to write elegantly while staying clear and concise. Many times my claims get lost in academic jargon in polished papers and at other points, I find myself straying away from my thesis in varying measures.

Overall, my development as a writer has been very much related to what I have been taught by teachers. I follow conceptual patterns and thus haven’t been able to establish a prose that seeks academic standings but is also reflective of my voice. At Dartmouth, I hope to develop this style by focusing on the drafting stages of my essay. In doing so, I can work to integrate various claims with evidence from sources, dramatically improving my argument and tone. This alteration will also enable my pieces to be logically organized and structured to reflect my motive, a key factor of well-written papers.

Personal/Reflective Piece

If I didn’t push off the dock soon, I’d be the only person-in a sport where even the men wear spandex-to get electrocuted. As the storm continued overhead, the one thing I could think was how I’d been fixing my foot stretchers on a dock under a metal train bridge. The weather may have been a tropical paradise to everyone else, but on my very first day, I sat up, took my oars in one hand and tightly tied down the vividly orange safety vest to the riggers. If I was going to flip and die, at least my body would be easily found. 

Our coach explained the workout. “Two laps to the lighthouse. Stretch and go home.” Easy enough, I assumed. I brought the rubber handles together and planted the crisp white blades in the water, sliding my seat back. Sitting up straight, I began to deliver more power in each stroke. I thought I was ready to race fast, ready for all the glory. Balancing on top of the water with only a beginner’s ease and agility, I dreamed of an Olympic career, and yet there I sat in the most bathtub-size of all racing shells, the coastal cousin of training wheels, lost in thought. 

I’d always been a musician without a sports team or hero. The only “idol” I’d ever known was “American Idol” and I merely learned what hash marks on a football field were because of marching band. Lost teeth due to softball accidents proved that memorizing the “Overture of 1812” would be easier than playing catch. Still, I wanted to try a sport. My only request was it’d have, “nothing to do with hand-eye coordination.” 

Even so, my passion for rowing developed during a summer of sweat, blood, and a lot of tears. It must have been that or the fact that my nerdy self liked being involved in an activity where I could calculate the speed of my actions. If I could just take the angle of the oar, multiply it by the length of the boat. I might… just…be able to find…The math soothed my mind. But as I sat in my novice single the first day, I was still overwhelmed.

Suddenly, the boat began to topple, and I felt my hands let go. It jerked. It launched into a spin. Without oars, I started to slow down and my coach’s launch caught up. My changed expression must have said it all. “You caught a crab, way-enough!” Jumping, I forced myself to ask where the eight-legged creature was. Near the bow? On my head?

“No Rao, look at your oar. When it becomes vertical in the water, it’s called catching a crab.” Overcome with relief, I relaxed my hunched shoulders and looked up. My coach and teammates were laughing at my confusion. As I pulled the oars out of the water, my coach continued to explain how “crabs” stop rowers at all levels. Just like the dreaded pop-ups during my softball days or conducting the end of a closer at orchestra, it was basic, a fundamental idea that needed to be learned. She assured me that as soon as I got inside, I’d watch the safety video that included it all. 

I’ve watched that same safety video dozens of times since and each time I learn a few new things about boating mishaps. Yet none of those tutorials have taught me more of a lesson than that split second, a time lapse between being petrified and understanding. In the most unexpected situations, I’ve learned to slow down and stop focusing on the unfamiliarity of an issue. Sometimes the best strategy is taking a step back, using logic, and considering the basics. 

I did, though, definitely recognize one of my fears that day. It’s safe to say I won’t be getting a hermit crab as a pet anytime soon.

Evidence-Based Writing

Paulomi A. Rao

Mrs. Gillin

AP English Language & Composition

25 April 2104

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, a novel written by Mark Twain has created an uproar of arguments ever since it was published in 1885. Although written in an era noteworthy for racial segregation and prejudice, it has nonetheless been generally accepted in the American canon as a valid text for decades. Rightfully so, Twain’s literature speaks of a higher level of morality, one that reveals that deep within us we have the power to identify with our own conscience in seeking self-freedom. The novel, centered on the adventures of Huckleberry Finn, a young white boy from the South, and Jim, his runaway slave, is quintessentially American in that it epitomizes the struggle between a powerful society and the even more powerful moral compass within an individual.

Twain’s ability to successfully depict how one’s morality is a reflection of individual beliefs and ideals, allows readers an opportunity to understand key concepts of everyday ethics and people’s interactions with one another. Further examinations let many acknowledge the important “moral compass” embedded within individuals that gravitate them towards meaningful relationships, despite society’s disapproval. Evident in the novel, Huck, growing up in a Jim Crow ruled South, displays a sense of morality that depicts his understanding of the importance of relationships notwithstanding racial boundaries. His relationship with Jim along with the brotherhood and camaraderie that arises between them emphasizes his matured morals and ability to grapple with such a large abstract concept of racism. Somehow, amongst all the people with strong disbeliefs in the community, the two from opposite worlds grow close and realize that their dependence on each other is crucial to survive their journey of reaching the North. Readers must consider the obstacles Huck has to overcome to forge an equal relationship with Jim and understand the impact that Huck’s decision leads to; a decision to trust his own morality in hopes of seeking self-freedom throughout his adventures amongst continuing struggles between the society and his self. In both directions, Jim and Huck’s relationship grows as Jim declares, “Jim won’t ever forgit you, Huck; you’s de bes’ fren’ Jim’s ever had” (Twain 101). Contrary to the community’s stereotyping of slaves, their relationship portrays Huck’s ability to acknowledge mutual trust with Jim who, “from the moment of their encounter on Jackson’s Island, influences and then consciously seeks to agitate and move Huck Finn” and “presents himself to Huck as a walking, talking, independent contradiction of what Huck has believed as indisputable truths” (Chadwick-Joshua 35). In fact, Jim’s character in the novel forces Huck to confront this struggle of racism, thus allowing him to later decide that he wants to abide by his own morale and healthy conscience instead of trading Jim as property and submitting to southern social prejudgments. Similarly, Sloane argues, “Huck’s closeness and simplicity with Jim provides him with his personal basis for abandoning the restrictions of the authorities of the village, their laws and public opinion.” Ultimately, in viewing Huck’s decision to befriend Jim, readers no longer see the benefits of the society’s rulings. Instead they are provoked to explore the importance of developing good relationships in pursuit of their own everyday self-freedom through individuality and begin to question the struggle of a limiting powerful society.

Additionally, Twain’s capability in succeeding to develop a correlation between a good conscience and a moral compass enables readers to examine the relationship between morals and seeking self-freedom, a concept very American in thought. Certainly, readers understand the self-virtue aspect of self-freedom but Twain’s skill in portraying how a good conscience provokes an individual to take risks to defend their beliefs is exemplary and allows readers to wonder about their own consciences and potential limits, an ideal very parallel to the American lifestyle—standing up for good deeds and personal faith. For instance, as Huck encounters an opportunity to save Jim from being captured, he creates a lie that Jim (hiding in the raft) is his father suffering from small pox, clearly displaying how his decision to stay true to his conscience and disregard society’s racist views is tremendously impactful. After all, Huck was born and raised in a racist community and was taught to treat blacks as property and nothing more. Nonetheless, as Huck encounters the situation, he proclaims, “Well, I jus felt sick. But I says I got to do it—I can’t get out of it” in response to his moral obligations of saving Jim (Twain 102). At other times, the reality of the situation is so immense that Huck declares, “I was trembling, because I’d got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it” (Twain 228). In truth, the “sickness he feels is the alienated consciousness” that results from Huck witnessing various situations involving the “violation of humanity” (Shulman 333). This symbolic ‘alienated consciousness’ that Shulman describes forces readers to examine the necessary good conscience one must display to be as resistant as Huck. Gone are any considerations that Huck lets society’s teachings overpower his own individual beliefs. As a matter of fact, Huck becomes discerningly aware of his inner individuality and understands that he mustn’t send the letter to Mrs. Watson letting her know where Jim is. He instead bets on himself and his ability to get Jim to safety and continues his journey, a true testament to his sense of individuality through his conscience, and decides, “All right…then, I’ll go to hell!” and tears up the letter (Twain 228). His, “defining battle later will be to retain his focus directly on the personalized ethic—his heart—which overcomes abstract ideas such as those which govern his antagonists” and Huck will use this decision to evaluate his own morals as he continues on his raft adventure (Sloane). Conclusively, readers recognize the importance of a good consciousness and fervor in ones ability to overcome the obstacles so essential in American culture, a longstanding struggle between the society and the individual.

A final illustration of morality, Twain subsequently assesses a higher level of morality where individuals remain objective and non-judgmental when validating a powerful society’s truths, prompting readers to take a deeper examination of the characteristics of a good conscience. Obviously, readers acknowledge that Huck accepts people on basis of his own beliefs; yet, his ability to remain impartial proves that despite his struggle between individual ideas and society’s stereotyping he has learned to remain true to his own emotions and feel pity for others. Remarkably he calls the crook a “poor old king and confesses how he felt ornery and humble and to blame, somehow, for the old scamp’s misfortunes” (Paine). It is in that moment that Paine describes, “Huck is never more real to us, or more lovable as Huck claims, a person’s conscience ain’t got no sense” (Paine). At other times, his compassion and consciousness emerge when he realizes “human beings can be awful cruel to one another” (Twain 291) and motivates him to “help Jim, take the king and duke abroad the raft, and foil their plan to defraud the Wilks sisters” (Kravitis). It is these observations of Huck’s character as perceived by readers that provoke them to acknowledge individuals with high levels of morality in their own everyday lives, facilitating their debate of what essential characteristics are needed to independently seek self-freedom.

Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn is correctly included in the American canon as a valid text because it illustrates a higher level of morality found within the struggle between society and selfhood. Throughout the book, an individual’s ability to find their conscience in hopes of seeking “self-freedom” is discussed through an intricate literary plot reflecting American history.

Works Cited

Chadwick-Joshua, Jocelyn. The Jim Dilemma: Reading Race in Huckleberry Finn. Jackson: University of Mississippi Press. 1998. Print.

Kravitis, Bennett. “Reinventing the world and reinventing the self in Huck Finn.” Papers on Language & Literature 40.1 (2004): 3. Literature Resource Center. Web. 18 Mar. 2014.

Paine, Albert Bigelow. “Huck Finn Comes Into His Own.” Mark Twain, a Biography: The Personal and Literary Life of Samuel Langhorne Clemens. Albert Bigelow Paine. Vol. 2. Harper & Brothers Publisher, 1912. 793-798. Rpt. in Twentieth-Century Literary Criticism. Ed. Dennis Poupard. Vol. 19. Detroit: Gale Research, 1986. Literature Resource Center. Web. 18 Mar. 2014.

Shulman, Robert. “Fathers, Brothers, and ‘The Diseased’: The Family, Individualism, and American Society in Huck Finn.” One Hundred Years of Huckleberry Finn: The Boy, His Book, and American Culture. Eds. Robert Sattelmeyer and J. Donald Crowley. Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1985. 325–340. Print.

Sloane, David E. E. “Huck Acts, an Escape from Sivilization.” Adventures of Huckleberry Finn: American Comic Vision. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1988. 50-60. Rpt. in Twentieth-Century Library Criticism. Ed. Thomas J. Schoenberg and Lawrence J. Trudeau. Vol. 161. Detroit: Gale, 2005. Literature Resource Center. Web. 18 Mar. 2014.

Twain, Mark. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. New York: Penguin Group. 2003. Print.