No fancy title this time. Sorry. Maybe next week.
A couple of weeks ago, before I was officially on the schedule, an English 90 student came in to the Center. I took him as a walk-in for some practice. I asked him what the assignment was about, and his reply was, "I don't know, some essay about me."
"So it's a personal essay," I reply.
"Yeah, I guess. Here." He hands me two freshly printed sheets of paper. "This is all I've got. It's supposed to be five pages."
I raise an eyebrow. "When is it due?" I ask.
"Today," he says. "Well, like 20 minutes." I groan inwardly.
"So...what did you want to work on?"
"Well," he says. "As it's due pretty soon here, I guess you can't mark on it. But, I don't know, I suck at writing."
I ask him if I can read it out loud, and he acquiesces. The grammar is jumbled, the word choice is poor, the sentence structure is luckluster...I'm at a loss as to what to tell this kid. As the session progresses, I'm getting more and more frustrated. Why wasn't he more prepared? What the heck am I supposed to do with this unmarkable paper? I scribble notes furiously on a writing pad.
"OK, you see here, how you used the word 'but' three times in the same sentence?" I ask. He nods. "Yeah, probably not a good idea. You could try breaking it up, if you wanted."
He leans forward. "Yeah, I can see that that's a big problem. I've been living in South America for the past five years, and I'm used to saying pero every couple of words, or so. Getting back in the swing of English has been a little difficult." A bell goes off in my head, and my frustration subsides. I can't be mad at a fellow globe trotter. How could I fault the poor guy for not using English in the past five years? I'd love to get inside this guy's head and see where he's been and what he's experienced, but time is running short.
"All right," I finally say. "As it's due now, I can't really change anything, obviously. May I suggest that next time you try to come in a little earlier? Then we could really straighten things out."
He nods sheepishly. "Well," he says. "This is just the first draft." I breathe a small sigh of relief. "But I'll definitely be back," he adds, waving a page full of notes at me. "Thanks so much for your help, I'm really grateful for it." I'm touched by this small show of appreciation. The rewards, admittedly, do not come often, but when they come, they're worth the wait.
One of the main reasons I applied to the Writing Center, as stated in an earlier post, was to help ESL students. Another HUGE reason I decided to apply, and one which made sure to tell Mike Mattison over and over again in my interview, was that I was interested in helping people. I remember telling him that I felt it was my duty to help one other person in one major way in my lifetime. Now, I don't know if I'll help someone in a major way through the Writing Center (I was thinking more along the lines of donating one of my kidneys to some sick kid in a third world country), but I still feel like I'm accomplishing something big here.
Speaking of Mike, did anyone see Phil's costume, today? I admit, I lol'd.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Journal #8 (Or, Criminals Are Like Raccoons, OK? You Give Them a Bit of Cat Food, and Pretty Soon, They're Back for the Whole Cat.)
That was a quote from "The Office," possibly the best show of all time. Except for JAG:
OMGbestshowever.
Anyway. Email consultations.
I'm a little apprehensive of starting to consult through email. When I've had friends send me their papers through email before, I've been unable to NOT copy edit. I remember one particularly frantic friend in high school who sent me her paper in chunks through instant messenger the night before her paper was due, and I copied it into Word, edited it, and chunk-sended it right back to her. I love picking out errors and correcting them. It's cathartic. It's like getting on your hands and knees and scrubbing your kitchen floor. It's like vaccuuming under the couch. It's like popping some sort of festering sore...too much? Sorry. I do realize that I'm doing them a (this was the word of the day, yesterday:) disservice in correcting them without explaining why I was correcting them, or giving them examples so they could correct themselves in the future. Still, though...it's more for my benefit than theirs. And it seems I've found the problem. I guess I'll just have to focus on the big things first, and then I can nit-pick just a little about grammar. Maybe.
I've been thinking of some different ways I could introduce myself in email consultations. How about:
Hi, my name is Sara. You'll find that I've added a music file to your paper. I would prefer you listen to it as you read, as I believe it provides the perfect theme music for my response letter.
Or maybe:
Good day to ye. This unworthy maiden's name be Sara, and she hath had the merry privelege of markingeth thine essay. If thou dost careth to taketh this maiden's suggestions, then apply them, and then, go forth and slayeth the dragon!
OK, so I'm still working on it. Sue me.
Now on to less pleasant things. I had my first bomb consultation on Wednesday. It upset me so much that I actually threw a small tantrum in front of RE and Joy. RE seems to have grown used to my idiosyncracies. Joy was so terrified that I felt the need to apologize in my last journal entry. Here's how it went down:
A non-trsditional student comes in seeking a consultation on what I thought was a simple communications paper. Instead, she starts pulling out paper after paper out of her notebook and piling them in front of me. There were, I kid you not, eight separate essays/assignments on the table. She kind of explained what she wanted, but then she jumped to something else she wanted help with, and then something else. As she spoke, I tried to take notes, but eventually, she just decided to go on a 45-minute long rant about how awful her English teacher is. I tried to organize all the papers in front of me, only to have her pick a few up, flip through them and put them down somewhere else, creating even more confusion. She just went on and on about how incompetent her English teacher was, and how great of a writer she (the student) was, and how the English teacher just couldn't recognize that. While looking over one of her papers, I tried once or twice to stop her tirade to point out a few mistakes, but she wasn't having it. She said her English teacher is an idiot, because she had been to the Writing Center a dozen times, and she showed me bits of writing pad paper from the Writing Center that were scribbled over with notes. I can tell you right now that none of of those notes had been applied, and then, if you can believe it, she pulled out MORE assignments/papers...GAH. I wanted to stab my eyes out. This went on for an hour.
An HOUR.
GAH.
Aaaand that's when I threw the temper tantrum.
But today's consultations went looooads better, so it's all good.
The end!
OMGbestshowever.
Anyway. Email consultations.
I'm a little apprehensive of starting to consult through email. When I've had friends send me their papers through email before, I've been unable to NOT copy edit. I remember one particularly frantic friend in high school who sent me her paper in chunks through instant messenger the night before her paper was due, and I copied it into Word, edited it, and chunk-sended it right back to her. I love picking out errors and correcting them. It's cathartic. It's like getting on your hands and knees and scrubbing your kitchen floor. It's like vaccuuming under the couch. It's like popping some sort of festering sore...too much? Sorry. I do realize that I'm doing them a (this was the word of the day, yesterday:) disservice in correcting them without explaining why I was correcting them, or giving them examples so they could correct themselves in the future. Still, though...it's more for my benefit than theirs. And it seems I've found the problem. I guess I'll just have to focus on the big things first, and then I can nit-pick just a little about grammar. Maybe.
I've been thinking of some different ways I could introduce myself in email consultations. How about:
Hi, my name is Sara. You'll find that I've added a music file to your paper. I would prefer you listen to it as you read, as I believe it provides the perfect theme music for my response letter.
Or maybe:
Good day to ye. This unworthy maiden's name be Sara, and she hath had the merry privelege of markingeth thine essay. If thou dost careth to taketh this maiden's suggestions, then apply them, and then, go forth and slayeth the dragon!
OK, so I'm still working on it. Sue me.
Now on to less pleasant things. I had my first bomb consultation on Wednesday. It upset me so much that I actually threw a small tantrum in front of RE and Joy. RE seems to have grown used to my idiosyncracies. Joy was so terrified that I felt the need to apologize in my last journal entry. Here's how it went down:
A non-trsditional student comes in seeking a consultation on what I thought was a simple communications paper. Instead, she starts pulling out paper after paper out of her notebook and piling them in front of me. There were, I kid you not, eight separate essays/assignments on the table. She kind of explained what she wanted, but then she jumped to something else she wanted help with, and then something else. As she spoke, I tried to take notes, but eventually, she just decided to go on a 45-minute long rant about how awful her English teacher is. I tried to organize all the papers in front of me, only to have her pick a few up, flip through them and put them down somewhere else, creating even more confusion. She just went on and on about how incompetent her English teacher was, and how great of a writer she (the student) was, and how the English teacher just couldn't recognize that. While looking over one of her papers, I tried once or twice to stop her tirade to point out a few mistakes, but she wasn't having it. She said her English teacher is an idiot, because she had been to the Writing Center a dozen times, and she showed me bits of writing pad paper from the Writing Center that were scribbled over with notes. I can tell you right now that none of of those notes had been applied, and then, if you can believe it, she pulled out MORE assignments/papers...GAH. I wanted to stab my eyes out. This went on for an hour.
An HOUR.
GAH.
Aaaand that's when I threw the temper tantrum.
But today's consultations went looooads better, so it's all good.
The end!
Friday, October 16, 2009
Journal #7 (Or, When We Fall in Love, We're Just Falling in Love with Ourselves)
First of all, if you're reading this and you said "happy birthday" to me, then thanks! A special thank you to April who made some of the most amazing cupcakes ever in life. Just thanks to everyone for making yesterday awesome.
Here are some issues I had with this week's readings:
I know that the whole idea behind this week's readings was that ESL students are an entirely different breed of cat, and that we need to adjust ourselves according to each student's needs. Honestly, however, a lot of the time, I had the feeling that the authors were trying to put the ESL students in a box. I realize that that wasn't their intent, but it felt like the authors were trying to devise a formula for working with ESL students. It's easy to understand why they would do that. If only there was a way to break students down into categories and sub-units, and provide a step-by-step formula to help each and every type of student. But as we talked about last night, this is impossible. Every student needs to be approached in a different way, and often, we only have a few minutes to figure out where a student is in his or her writing process, what they know and what they don't know, and how we can lead them down the right path. The idea of a writing center, therefore, is not necessarily a concrete concept. They always have to make adjustments, and need to maintain just the right amount of flexibility, yet retaining their integrity as institutions.
Is institution the word I want to use here? Maybe the whole problem is that writing centers are trying to become institutions, not realizing that their true integrity lies in the fact that they are not institutions...? I don't know, I don't really feel like writing about post-modernism and its effects on society.
Another issue I had with the readings, specifically the Judith Powers' piece, was the whole presentation of tutors using the Socratic method when dealing with ESL students. So...we're using a Eurocentric liberal education model to work with foreign students who have most likely been personally traumatized by Western imperialism? Heh. I feel like I should have some sort of sign and a megaphone. Down with the system! No, not really. I'm being facetious, obviously, but I still wonder. ESL students come from a variety of different education backgrounds. For a lot of them, I'm sure, their education was made up of memorization instead of collaboration, and questioning a person in authority, even if it was to ask for help, was unheard of. So I wonder what the best way to approach that is. If they don't understand that it's OK to come to conclusions on their own, what are we supposed to do? We can't sit there and discuss Socrates with them, can we? Does it take multiple sessions or X number of years in the US to understand what's expected?
I guess I just need to develop my telepathy skills. Consultations would run so much easier if I could just see into people's heads.
Oh, and if I had X-ray vision.
Also, the power to fly and conjure chocolate out of mid-air.
And a wand.
K, this is sounding more and more like Harry Potter.
BTW: Joy, if you're reading this, sorry I terrified you by having a random, stomping temper tantrum this morning. I promise I usually only do that when I'm alone.
Here are some issues I had with this week's readings:
I know that the whole idea behind this week's readings was that ESL students are an entirely different breed of cat, and that we need to adjust ourselves according to each student's needs. Honestly, however, a lot of the time, I had the feeling that the authors were trying to put the ESL students in a box. I realize that that wasn't their intent, but it felt like the authors were trying to devise a formula for working with ESL students. It's easy to understand why they would do that. If only there was a way to break students down into categories and sub-units, and provide a step-by-step formula to help each and every type of student. But as we talked about last night, this is impossible. Every student needs to be approached in a different way, and often, we only have a few minutes to figure out where a student is in his or her writing process, what they know and what they don't know, and how we can lead them down the right path. The idea of a writing center, therefore, is not necessarily a concrete concept. They always have to make adjustments, and need to maintain just the right amount of flexibility, yet retaining their integrity as institutions.
Is institution the word I want to use here? Maybe the whole problem is that writing centers are trying to become institutions, not realizing that their true integrity lies in the fact that they are not institutions...? I don't know, I don't really feel like writing about post-modernism and its effects on society.
Another issue I had with the readings, specifically the Judith Powers' piece, was the whole presentation of tutors using the Socratic method when dealing with ESL students. So...we're using a Eurocentric liberal education model to work with foreign students who have most likely been personally traumatized by Western imperialism? Heh. I feel like I should have some sort of sign and a megaphone. Down with the system! No, not really. I'm being facetious, obviously, but I still wonder. ESL students come from a variety of different education backgrounds. For a lot of them, I'm sure, their education was made up of memorization instead of collaboration, and questioning a person in authority, even if it was to ask for help, was unheard of. So I wonder what the best way to approach that is. If they don't understand that it's OK to come to conclusions on their own, what are we supposed to do? We can't sit there and discuss Socrates with them, can we? Does it take multiple sessions or X number of years in the US to understand what's expected?
I guess I just need to develop my telepathy skills. Consultations would run so much easier if I could just see into people's heads.
Oh, and if I had X-ray vision.
Also, the power to fly and conjure chocolate out of mid-air.
And a wand.
K, this is sounding more and more like Harry Potter.
BTW: Joy, if you're reading this, sorry I terrified you by having a random, stomping temper tantrum this morning. I promise I usually only do that when I'm alone.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Journal #6 (Or, A Clever Man Commits No Minor Blunders)
Again, the title has nothing to do with anything. I just thought it was clever, which I thought was important, as I'm always looking for cleverer journal titles.
First week of being on the schedule! How exciting. I have this fear that, as the weeks continue and I quit numbering the days I've actually been consulting, I'll become completely jaded, and end up hating my job. Did you ever have that feeling that something that's fun to do will eventually end up completely sucking? At the moment, I don't think working in the Center could ever suck. However, I used to think that about my siblings. When my parents brought my little sister home from the hospital, I was elated. After a few weeks of the incessant crying, pooping and spitting up, she lost all her charm for me. After the novelty wears off, and the pooping, crying and spitting up starts, will I still be excited to come to work every day?
Anywho.
This past week, I was able to compare how both I and different students acted within a consultation.
My very first official consultation was with a sophomore who just needed her paper "polished up." She had thrown her paper together the night before and wanted another person's opinion on, you guessed it, flow. The session went very smoothly. We were able to get through all of it, and she was grateful for the help. We were able to start a dialogue about different sentence structures, and how punctuation adds effect (no, I'm serious--we actually talked about Martha Kolln before I'd even read this week's chapter...spooky). Eventually, she was going through the paper correcting herself. At one point, I turned to her and said, "Heck, I don't even know why I'm here--you're doing all the work." I think she really came away with something. That was satisfying.
The next official consultation I had was with an ESL student. In this session, I found that I was doing most of the talking, and I tried to reign myself in a couple of times, but it was difficult: there were so many things wrong with the paper that I couldn't set a clear agenda. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I lived in Romania for a little while, and did a lot of writing-based work with non-native English speakers. In those situations, I didn't have "collaboration" in mind. I had proofreading in mind. I had correct-every-single-grammatical-error-in-this-paper in mind. I hardly ever looked at organization, and I certainly never brainstormed. So coming from this kind of "tutoring" background definitely came into play in this consultation. I went through the paper, sentence by sentence, correcting errors while only briefly explaining their significance. The student nodded and smiled, but I don't think she really got it. In the end, the student was quite satisfied and requested further sessions with me, but I have a sneaking suspicion that she only wanted to work with me again because I basically acted as a grammar check.
It probably wasn't as bad as I think it was, but still...I need to change my tactics for the next time we have a consultation. I spoke with RE afterwards, and she told me that she has the same problems with the ESL students she works with: grammar is their first priority. She said that this wasn't necessarily a problem, but that I have to keep in mind that we're here to help writers understand concepts so that they can apply them later to their writing. She suggested that the next time the student comes in, I focus on something else first, like organization, or whether or not the student has actually fulfilled the assignment requirements, and then get to grammar. This sounds like pretty sage advice to me, and I hope I can execute it in a tactful manner the next time I meet with her.
Anyway...all that to say, yay first week!
First week of being on the schedule! How exciting. I have this fear that, as the weeks continue and I quit numbering the days I've actually been consulting, I'll become completely jaded, and end up hating my job. Did you ever have that feeling that something that's fun to do will eventually end up completely sucking? At the moment, I don't think working in the Center could ever suck. However, I used to think that about my siblings. When my parents brought my little sister home from the hospital, I was elated. After a few weeks of the incessant crying, pooping and spitting up, she lost all her charm for me. After the novelty wears off, and the pooping, crying and spitting up starts, will I still be excited to come to work every day?
Anywho.
This past week, I was able to compare how both I and different students acted within a consultation.
My very first official consultation was with a sophomore who just needed her paper "polished up." She had thrown her paper together the night before and wanted another person's opinion on, you guessed it, flow. The session went very smoothly. We were able to get through all of it, and she was grateful for the help. We were able to start a dialogue about different sentence structures, and how punctuation adds effect (no, I'm serious--we actually talked about Martha Kolln before I'd even read this week's chapter...spooky). Eventually, she was going through the paper correcting herself. At one point, I turned to her and said, "Heck, I don't even know why I'm here--you're doing all the work." I think she really came away with something. That was satisfying.
The next official consultation I had was with an ESL student. In this session, I found that I was doing most of the talking, and I tried to reign myself in a couple of times, but it was difficult: there were so many things wrong with the paper that I couldn't set a clear agenda. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I lived in Romania for a little while, and did a lot of writing-based work with non-native English speakers. In those situations, I didn't have "collaboration" in mind. I had proofreading in mind. I had correct-every-single-grammatical-error-in-this-paper in mind. I hardly ever looked at organization, and I certainly never brainstormed. So coming from this kind of "tutoring" background definitely came into play in this consultation. I went through the paper, sentence by sentence, correcting errors while only briefly explaining their significance. The student nodded and smiled, but I don't think she really got it. In the end, the student was quite satisfied and requested further sessions with me, but I have a sneaking suspicion that she only wanted to work with me again because I basically acted as a grammar check.
It probably wasn't as bad as I think it was, but still...I need to change my tactics for the next time we have a consultation. I spoke with RE afterwards, and she told me that she has the same problems with the ESL students she works with: grammar is their first priority. She said that this wasn't necessarily a problem, but that I have to keep in mind that we're here to help writers understand concepts so that they can apply them later to their writing. She suggested that the next time the student comes in, I focus on something else first, like organization, or whether or not the student has actually fulfilled the assignment requirements, and then get to grammar. This sounds like pretty sage advice to me, and I hope I can execute it in a tactful manner the next time I meet with her.
Anyway...all that to say, yay first week!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Journal #5 (Or, You Put the Abyss in Abysmal)
That title has really nothing to do with this post, I just thought it was sort of funny.
So I had my first consultation the other day! It was super exciting. Jenny was sick, and had asked someone to cover her clients. I was only there for an hour, and one of her clients was a no-show. I was about to despair (actually, I was about to thank God) when, lo and behold, in walked Allison. It was the first time she had been in to the Writing Center, and she was a little confused and shy. As I led her back to one of the tables, I kept running through my head everything I had observed in consultations, and everything I had been taught. Of course, my mind went blank.
I tried to break the ice by chatting with her a little bit. I debated whether or not to let her know that I was new to the Center, and eventually decided against it--I figured she would trust my judgment more if she thought I was a seasoned expert. My fidgeting and speed talking didn't really prove this to her, however. I began to calm down after I had read through the assignment sheet and actually got into the paper (which was a very short fiction piece for her English 101 class). Her main concerns were grammar, punctuation and, you guessed it, flow. As she began to read aloud, I thankfully noticed a few things that I could comment on. I set an agenda in my mind that focused on the things she told me she was having issues with. Stopping her after the first paragraph, I asked her where she would pause naturally if she were reading the paper to an audience. Miraculously, she seemed to get what I was talking about, and she began adding commas and periods, and reconstructing sentences all by herself. Even more miraculously, as the session progressed, I noticed that she took my words to heart and actually understood what I was trying to get across! I was flabbergasted, simply flabbergasted. The session ended, and I encouraged her to come back to let me read it after she had made some changes. I let her know that I was really interested in the story, and was curious as to how everything would turn out. She assured me happily that she would.
She probably won't, but it was nice of her to say that.
According to the Newkirk piece, I did some good things in my session, and some not-so-good things. The not-so-good things were that I definitely talked to much. I went on a couple of tangents, and "wasted" a few minutes shooting the breeze with the student. The talking to much was probably not the best thing to do, but we did have a few very productive silences in which I just let her think and come up with answers on her own. I found that when I left her to her own devices, she usually came up with the right answer. And to be honest, I don't think those minutes I used getting to know Allison were wasted at all. I was making a connection, and like Julianna was saying last night, a lot of times it's that little extra effort that we make in getting to know people that makes an impression on them, whether we see them again or not. I hate the idea of the Writing Center turning into a machine: sucking in students, reconstructing them and then spitting them back out again. That connection that we make an effort to make definitely determines whether or not the student will (willingly) return to the Center.
I'm just saying.
OK, something else really fast:
Last night, Rob asked why students might feel more comfortable going to a tutor as opposed to going to the Writing Center. The idea that instantly popped into my head was that students view tutors as the experts; they're the high-end call girls that service the Upper West Side in New York. They view them as clean and efficient, so they don't mind throwing a little extra cash into the transaction. The Writing Center is viewed (if it is viewed at all) as a bunch of other students telling students how to write; we're the run-down bordello on the outskirts of town next to the pig ranch. We're free and obscure and a last resort. Now I don't know why this particular analogy struck me so forcefully as I was listening to the conversation last night, but I think it illustrates it rather well. The question, as Ryan put it last night, is how to do we change our image?
I say t-shirts. Also, I think I might slap a few tattoos on my face some day in order to have people walk up and ask me whether my skin condition is being treated. And I'll say, "Funny you should ask. You should write a paper about skin diseases and bring it to the Writing Center!"
Or something.
So I had my first consultation the other day! It was super exciting. Jenny was sick, and had asked someone to cover her clients. I was only there for an hour, and one of her clients was a no-show. I was about to despair (actually, I was about to thank God) when, lo and behold, in walked Allison. It was the first time she had been in to the Writing Center, and she was a little confused and shy. As I led her back to one of the tables, I kept running through my head everything I had observed in consultations, and everything I had been taught. Of course, my mind went blank.
I tried to break the ice by chatting with her a little bit. I debated whether or not to let her know that I was new to the Center, and eventually decided against it--I figured she would trust my judgment more if she thought I was a seasoned expert. My fidgeting and speed talking didn't really prove this to her, however. I began to calm down after I had read through the assignment sheet and actually got into the paper (which was a very short fiction piece for her English 101 class). Her main concerns were grammar, punctuation and, you guessed it, flow. As she began to read aloud, I thankfully noticed a few things that I could comment on. I set an agenda in my mind that focused on the things she told me she was having issues with. Stopping her after the first paragraph, I asked her where she would pause naturally if she were reading the paper to an audience. Miraculously, she seemed to get what I was talking about, and she began adding commas and periods, and reconstructing sentences all by herself. Even more miraculously, as the session progressed, I noticed that she took my words to heart and actually understood what I was trying to get across! I was flabbergasted, simply flabbergasted. The session ended, and I encouraged her to come back to let me read it after she had made some changes. I let her know that I was really interested in the story, and was curious as to how everything would turn out. She assured me happily that she would.
She probably won't, but it was nice of her to say that.
According to the Newkirk piece, I did some good things in my session, and some not-so-good things. The not-so-good things were that I definitely talked to much. I went on a couple of tangents, and "wasted" a few minutes shooting the breeze with the student. The talking to much was probably not the best thing to do, but we did have a few very productive silences in which I just let her think and come up with answers on her own. I found that when I left her to her own devices, she usually came up with the right answer. And to be honest, I don't think those minutes I used getting to know Allison were wasted at all. I was making a connection, and like Julianna was saying last night, a lot of times it's that little extra effort that we make in getting to know people that makes an impression on them, whether we see them again or not. I hate the idea of the Writing Center turning into a machine: sucking in students, reconstructing them and then spitting them back out again. That connection that we make an effort to make definitely determines whether or not the student will (willingly) return to the Center.
I'm just saying.
OK, something else really fast:
Last night, Rob asked why students might feel more comfortable going to a tutor as opposed to going to the Writing Center. The idea that instantly popped into my head was that students view tutors as the experts; they're the high-end call girls that service the Upper West Side in New York. They view them as clean and efficient, so they don't mind throwing a little extra cash into the transaction. The Writing Center is viewed (if it is viewed at all) as a bunch of other students telling students how to write; we're the run-down bordello on the outskirts of town next to the pig ranch. We're free and obscure and a last resort. Now I don't know why this particular analogy struck me so forcefully as I was listening to the conversation last night, but I think it illustrates it rather well. The question, as Ryan put it last night, is how to do we change our image?
I say t-shirts. Also, I think I might slap a few tattoos on my face some day in order to have people walk up and ask me whether my skin condition is being treated. And I'll say, "Funny you should ask. You should write a paper about skin diseases and bring it to the Writing Center!"
Or something.
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