The University Writing Experience

I'm not exactly sure what I should say. I started out in this class by mistake almost- I had no idea there were THEMES to the University Writing courses! If I had known that, I most certainly would have picked a different topic, as women's autobiographies are not exactly my interest. However, I didn't know that, and in retrospect, I'm thankful I didn't. To be honest, I had a great experience in the class. Since I began studying English, I always have felt like I was strongest in reading and writing [as opposed to speaking] and although I do not claim to be an extraordinary writer, people have said I could even pass for a native speaker. This class broke my conceptions about how to write and really helped me to understand what writing in English is all about. I learned about formulating a strong thesis, organizing my papers effectively, and citations. I can't say the class was particularly easy, but it was a very good class. I feel like I have really improved a great deal from start to finish of this class and as I think about the past semester and what has happened, I can't help but feel happy that this was one of the classes I was blessed to take.

Baghdad Burning

When the assignments for our blog books were first announced, I was not pleased with being assigned Baghdad Burning. The only thing I knew about it, really, was that it was about an Iraqi woman living through the current war in Iraq. Because I am not a very politically oriented person and I assumed it was a blog dealing with political issues, I was very uninterested. However, as I began to read, I found it to be a very enjoyable novel. Although she did discuss politics, she provided humor and a relate-ability I was not expecting. In fact, her level of comprehension of the English language was beyond what I would have thought possible for someone who spent their whole life in a non-English speaking country. It was easy to read and I found myself learning many new things about Iraqi culture as well as the war that I had no idea about. It was a surprising turn of events, but I found myself really liking Baghdad Burning.

so when is this due?

I am going to compare second-generation (east) Asian-American women (specifically Maxine Hong Kingston and Yoshiko Uchida) to determine how different cultures (asian vs. american) define social norms and behaviors, as demonstrated through their texts.

Lost in Translation

After reading the four selections from class, I find myself most intrigued with the excerpt from Lost in Translation, by Eva Hoffman. I think I really enjoyed it because I thought the style of writing was engaging; it was complex and deep, yet easy to read. It was also something I could relate to very closely. Like Hoffman, I too find myself at a loss for words at times, grasping for the term to correctly describe what I would like to express. Like Hoffman, I love to learn words that you can only see on paper. Like Hoffman, there are times when I question the sound of my voice as I form these syllables. I loved her writing. There was an immense sadness and a longing for a place to call home, and that utterly moved me.

Someone mentioned in class that if it had been Hoffman's own choice to move, she may not have been so homesick because she herself would have wanted to leave. I must say, I agree. Hoffman did not want to leave, so she longs for home. I also think, just from my own personal experience, that she has an idealized version of Poland in her mind and she limits herself from becoming a part of her new surroundings.

I also liked how I could see how American-born students could still relate to the reading. Everyone has their awkward moments, no matter what country you're from. Everyone comes into contact with unfamilar situations in which they must adapt their ways. Everyone has experienced the pressure to fit in. This excerpt was universal to people of all cultures, backgrounds, and nationalities.

serenade my soul

I know her as Lingy. According to her profile, she's only a few years older than I am, but a half a world away, in the United Kingdom. I chose this particular blog because I've been following it for several years. I don't remember how exactly, but I somehow found her blog (or she found mine) and we started reading each other's. Over the course of the years, I've learned about her through some of the vague entries. This blog isn't something that you can just start at the most recent entry and just read through, but rather, something you are able to absorb over time. Sometimes she writes random thoughts on a topic, sometimes a peice of her day, sometimes it's a heartfelt entry over emotions. You never learn much about the physical person of Lingy, or even much about her personality (to a certain extent), but you begin to understand her feelings. You don't always know what the struggle is, but you are able to see how it affects her and how she is able to overcome it. I empathize with her emotions, so I find the blog to be interesting. Her ambiguity is facinating, but it may not be everyone's cup of tea. For me personally, I love the fact that it's just a small snapshot into a person's life, a person just like me, simply living their life. That I can relate to someone I've never met and know that there is someone out there going through some of the same things as me is comforting. I know her as Lingy, and I chose her blog.

http://lingychan.livejournal.com/

because everything sounds better in French

Méme si les distances nous séparent
Je saurai continuer notre histoire
Je t'attendrai malgré tout
Je t'attends plus que tout


The title of this page, "Jusqu'au bout" means "until the end" in French. It's the title of a song. I don't really know why or how I came across it, but I have this French song on my computer, and I love it. I actually don't speak French, though I tried to learn, once, in eighth grade. Un, deux, trois; J'mappelle Tracy, and that's about he extent of my knowledge. According to free translation websites, however, the lyrics are really nice. Throwing in random foreign words into journal entries is always a nice touch.

In case you didn't catch my French, my name is Tracy. I'm a Christian, I'm a girl, I hate bananas, I have a passion for studying the Korean language [미안해요...내 한국어 잘 알못해요.].

What else do you need to know?

I was born in a small, rural town in Germany over eighteen years ago, or six thousand, six hundred and twenty-eight days ago, specifically. I was born a bit premature, but I grew up like any other child, if you call cows living in your backyard normal [and when I say backyard, I literally mean my backyard]. I occupied my time as a child playing in corn fields, going to beer festivals, and taking day trips to Belgium and Luxemburg with my family. I have one older sister, and she was my best friend during those years, as there were not many children in our town to play with. We relied on each other. To this day, I am quite happy to say we remain close.

In Germany, everything revolves around alcohol. Some of my fondest memories come from times when my parents would go to "wine probing" sessions to taste and purchase different wines, most often to our favorite weingut [the English word for this is "vintner", I think], Martin. Martin lived in a house that could only be reached by going down an incredibly steep hill paved with stone. It was a musty and dim place, but I loved it. My sister and I would play tag between wine barrels and Martin would let us drink kinder [children's] wine, which was non-alcoholic by the way.

At the age of nine, my family moved to the United States and settled down in northern Virginia, in the suburbs of Washington DC. Looking back, I can't believe I survived. Virginia was hot and humid in the summer, far from the cloudy weather I was used to. There were people everywhere! Kids actually living in my neighborhood! A mall within minutes away! They were all novel concepts to me. I grew to love it here, which was probably my motivation for attending The George Washington University.

In the summer of 2006, I returned to Germany for the first time after moving away. We went to visit Martin, and this time I was able to wine probe alongside my parents [the drinking age is 16 in Germany!]. Martin was older now, as was I, but his wine cellar still smelled exactly how I remembered. We visited our old house, and there were still cows living in the backyard. I miss Germany a great deal, and even though I identify as an American now, I will always have a special fondness in my heart for Germany, my homeland.