I have to say that I loved "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" but definitely not as much as "Memories."
I feel like they are both excellent, stylistically. I love how the Frank Sinatra piece leads the reader along with the evident complexity of Sinatra: one minute he is the most generous friends you could ever hope to have, the next he is on the verge of a bar fight with a complete stranger.
There is definitely the sense of Sinatra's own desire to stay....I'm not sure of the word....young? in charge? new and famous? There is some sort of tension there that I can't really pin down, but I get the sense that that is a part of the reason why this article is so successful - because it really seems to find the tension and that is what runs through the piece to keep it going.
Along that same line, the images of Sinatra reflect this - I love the image of Sinatra standing by the bar, with the two older (and Talese makes a point of mentioning that fact) blondes. Its like that saying "A picture is worth a thousand words" - that image sums up the tension of the story - you have this once-fabulous icon, and....well....more than having a cold, he is getting OLD and fading. That really stuck with me.
"Memories" was an absolutely beautifully crafted story. Honestly, it made me cry, but I think that that is a part of what makes it so effective - it really reaches the reader. The part about Ted waiting endlessly for his wife was so parallel with the point of the story, and he was the perfect character to put it there. In sort of a dark way, it reminded me that - well, what ARE these people waiting for? And the answer seems to be that their days are filling with endless waiting for nothing, the only amusement being dictionary definitions.
Finally, I think the fragmented structure of the story really works - Kidder doesn't just stick with one character - he breaks it up. Which is, afterall, much like memory itself works - broken anecdotes.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Outline
Conflict: GenXer gets engaged.
1. Girl gets ring
2. Engagement causes confusion.
3. Girl asks questions.
Solution: Girl feels content.
1. Girl gets ring
2. Engagement causes confusion.
3. Girl asks questions.
Solution: Girl feels content.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Profile Pitch/Progress?
So I thought I had the perfect idea to interview and profile Judy Sarkozy, who owns and operates Sarkozy's Bakery downtown. But the more I thought about it, and got ready to start working on securing an interview, the less and less excited I felt about this.
Honestly, I don't think its really making me go out on a limb at all - I think this would be a very straightforward interview.
What really intrigues me is profiling a place - I've never done this before, and it might help me develop another aspect of my writing that I have previously not done. I have been running through a lot of my ideas in my head...and I wish, at this point in the deadline, I had more to say! I shouldn't be still trying to decide what I'm going to do! I feel a little panicked.
Ideas are profiling the Kalamazoo Mueseum, going to the newborn nursery in Bronson and profiling that...I don't know. Going to talk to Marin...I just hope that some bolt of inspiration hits me...
Honestly, I don't think its really making me go out on a limb at all - I think this would be a very straightforward interview.
What really intrigues me is profiling a place - I've never done this before, and it might help me develop another aspect of my writing that I have previously not done. I have been running through a lot of my ideas in my head...and I wish, at this point in the deadline, I had more to say! I shouldn't be still trying to decide what I'm going to do! I feel a little panicked.
Ideas are profiling the Kalamazoo Mueseum, going to the newborn nursery in Bronson and profiling that...I don't know. Going to talk to Marin...I just hope that some bolt of inspiration hits me...
Week 4: Reading Response
Trina and Trina blew me away. I wish I could write a profile that is as all consuming as this one must have been for LeBlanc - it was really interesting as well, because part of the reason I feel the article is so effective is that it is in large part about the struggle of communicating and getting through to Trina. I feel like the story gradually exposes Trina - gradually, definitely not at first. In the beginning its a little disconcerting because we in fact know so little. I almost felt helpless as a reader.
Clearly, there are stories that are hard to separate your goal as a journalist and your basic humanity. I think the fact that LeBlanc repeatedly admit to his frustration with Trina - and that he even at one point oversteps the lines of his profession and takes her in, trying to get her clean, are cases in point. However, for this piece it really works - because we, the audience WANT to help Trina.
I think that his biggest challenge was connecting with Trina - she seemed like such an emotionally unacessable person, until almost the very end of the story.
It is interesting that LeBlanc chose to organize the story chronologically. Because the story is about Trina, her scattered, damaged life, and her drug addiction, I wonder how it would have made sense to organize it otherwise. Certainly, every story needs SOME structure, but what structure would have been reflected the subject?
As for The American Man at Age Ten, I just simply love this piece. Especially, I love her introduction - because the reader is drawn in but surprised at the same time. I had read this article before but I really see so much more in it the second time around - and I think what I love about Orleans writing is the imagery and examples. They are so lush, and give the reader such a clear, vivid picture of what she is writing about.
Clearly, there are stories that are hard to separate your goal as a journalist and your basic humanity. I think the fact that LeBlanc repeatedly admit to his frustration with Trina - and that he even at one point oversteps the lines of his profession and takes her in, trying to get her clean, are cases in point. However, for this piece it really works - because we, the audience WANT to help Trina.
I think that his biggest challenge was connecting with Trina - she seemed like such an emotionally unacessable person, until almost the very end of the story.
It is interesting that LeBlanc chose to organize the story chronologically. Because the story is about Trina, her scattered, damaged life, and her drug addiction, I wonder how it would have made sense to organize it otherwise. Certainly, every story needs SOME structure, but what structure would have been reflected the subject?
As for The American Man at Age Ten, I just simply love this piece. Especially, I love her introduction - because the reader is drawn in but surprised at the same time. I had read this article before but I really see so much more in it the second time around - and I think what I love about Orleans writing is the imagery and examples. They are so lush, and give the reader such a clear, vivid picture of what she is writing about.
Revised Personal Essay
Elizabeth Porter
5 April 2009
Narrative Journalism:
Engaged? Stumbling Upon the Mrs. Degree at K College
My mother told me a few days before I left for college that when she was a freshman at Northwestern in the late 1960’s, the goal for almost every one of her girlfriends was to find a husband by graduation. “Seriously?”, I had asked her, my mouth hanging open, incredulous. The idea of getting married immediately after college was something I had never even heard of, coming from the super liberal west coast, where marriage seemed very much optional. My childhood friends growing up often had divorced parents, like myself, and I had playmates that had two daddies or two mommies, some simply had parents that co-habited, not necessarily bothering with the formality of a ring. My elder brother, when he finally tied the knot with his live-in girlfriend of ten years, finalized their marriage license by signing it in the baggage claim of the Sacramento airport, something they almost forgot to do en route to their honeymoon.
So when I moved to Michigan for college, marriage, something that seemed more common, more traditional, and seemed to happen much earlier in life, was not even a slight possibility for myself. As a handful of friends from high school, and one or two of my college classmates, became romantically involved and then engaged, I will admit that I sometimes judged them, at times felt sorry for them. Perhaps it is the jaded nature of my generation that marriage has always seemed an phony contract, easily broken – like a fleeting phase, procured in drive-thru chapels in Las Vegas a la Britney Spears, or, for the truly adventurous, in front of millions on a reality TV show.
So when I found myself leaning over the glass countertop in the jewelry section at Boscov’s, the glass warm under my palms from the reflected lighting, a million glittering engagement rings sparkling under my eyes, the scene felt dream-like, and not only because of the two glasses of champagne I had just downed.
A week after St. Patrick’s Day, I found myself at a crossroads; the question, popped half romantically and half practically, was a weird illustration of the concept of marriage, distorted since my mother’s time in college. After discovering that my Teach for America placement could only be negotiated based on whether or not my partner was also my husband-to-be, the proposal happened over the phone, after a serious discussion. “Well, we could solve this whole problem by getting engaged, you know,” my now-fiancée told me. “Is that a proposal?” I asked him. “Sure,” he said. “Okay,” I said.
I am happy with the decision. While I anticipate a long engagement – maybe sooner than five years, but who can really tell – there was not the requisite formality that Americans in generations past would have expected. No bended knee, no anxiety-fraught request of permission from my father. I know that this is the right life decision for me: intuitively I feel good about it. I worry, though, that perhaps the resoluteness of my now fresh decision will one day fade.
As I hung up the phone after our conversation that day, having decided to become engaged, I felt butterflies in my chest and stomach – but not the bad kind. Instead, I felt exhilarated, a little lightheaded. Images of monogrammed towels and summer vacations and the Christmas cards we would have together spun in my head, and I smiled. For the rest of the day, unsure about how to share the news with my friends and family, unsure of how I would be received, I walked around feeling giddy and happy and light. I didn’t feel trapped or claustrophobic, which is how I always imagined a lifelong agreement must feel like – spending the rest of my life with my now fiancée seemed so natural. I was elated.
Over the next few weeks though, the dust slowly settled. Somehow, the surreal nature of my modern-day engagement, with the concept of throwing a wedding, with church bells and rings and cake, bewildered me, and this feeling hasn’t subsided. I’m still happy with the decision, just very unsure of how I go about it: a marriage isn’t just monogrammed towels and Christmas cards – is it? The expectations and rules of how to go about getting married have been so revised over the last generations. During my last phone conversation with my grandmother, she inquired about whether or not the place cards for the reception dinner had been finished yet.
It seems to throw off my friends too. One of my closest girlfriends told me recently that she just didn’t think I was “the kind of person,” that got engaged. Conversely, an old study abroad buddy Facebooked me to say “CONGRAGULATIONS!!” . I get the idea that in some schools, being engaged is not as rare in their graduating class.
Last week, I went to Barnes and Noble to figure out just how someone throws a wedding. After all, they don’t exactly teach that in college. What is the etiquette on announcing your engagement? Does Facebook count as acceptable these days? I selected a few outrageously priced magazines, all with smiling brides on each glossy page, all wearing white. Would I wear white, or is that just too traditional?
As I purchased the magazines, the clerk looked at me sort of like I had looked at myself in the mirror that morning: Really? her face seemed to say.
Really. For now, I am wearing my grandmother’s anniversary ring, until we can afford a “real” engagement ring. On Graduation Day, I imagine myself preparing to walk across the stage: all requirements completed, SIP turned in. Cap: check. Gown: check. Ring: check. I will carry my grandmother’s ring, perched on my right hand, across the stage, and I can’t help but wonder, knowing what my mother would say about her generation, just what my grandmother might tell me.
5 April 2009
Narrative Journalism:
Engaged? Stumbling Upon the Mrs. Degree at K College
My mother told me a few days before I left for college that when she was a freshman at Northwestern in the late 1960’s, the goal for almost every one of her girlfriends was to find a husband by graduation. “Seriously?”, I had asked her, my mouth hanging open, incredulous. The idea of getting married immediately after college was something I had never even heard of, coming from the super liberal west coast, where marriage seemed very much optional. My childhood friends growing up often had divorced parents, like myself, and I had playmates that had two daddies or two mommies, some simply had parents that co-habited, not necessarily bothering with the formality of a ring. My elder brother, when he finally tied the knot with his live-in girlfriend of ten years, finalized their marriage license by signing it in the baggage claim of the Sacramento airport, something they almost forgot to do en route to their honeymoon.
So when I moved to Michigan for college, marriage, something that seemed more common, more traditional, and seemed to happen much earlier in life, was not even a slight possibility for myself. As a handful of friends from high school, and one or two of my college classmates, became romantically involved and then engaged, I will admit that I sometimes judged them, at times felt sorry for them. Perhaps it is the jaded nature of my generation that marriage has always seemed an phony contract, easily broken – like a fleeting phase, procured in drive-thru chapels in Las Vegas a la Britney Spears, or, for the truly adventurous, in front of millions on a reality TV show.
So when I found myself leaning over the glass countertop in the jewelry section at Boscov’s, the glass warm under my palms from the reflected lighting, a million glittering engagement rings sparkling under my eyes, the scene felt dream-like, and not only because of the two glasses of champagne I had just downed.
A week after St. Patrick’s Day, I found myself at a crossroads; the question, popped half romantically and half practically, was a weird illustration of the concept of marriage, distorted since my mother’s time in college. After discovering that my Teach for America placement could only be negotiated based on whether or not my partner was also my husband-to-be, the proposal happened over the phone, after a serious discussion. “Well, we could solve this whole problem by getting engaged, you know,” my now-fiancée told me. “Is that a proposal?” I asked him. “Sure,” he said. “Okay,” I said.
I am happy with the decision. While I anticipate a long engagement – maybe sooner than five years, but who can really tell – there was not the requisite formality that Americans in generations past would have expected. No bended knee, no anxiety-fraught request of permission from my father. I know that this is the right life decision for me: intuitively I feel good about it. I worry, though, that perhaps the resoluteness of my now fresh decision will one day fade.
As I hung up the phone after our conversation that day, having decided to become engaged, I felt butterflies in my chest and stomach – but not the bad kind. Instead, I felt exhilarated, a little lightheaded. Images of monogrammed towels and summer vacations and the Christmas cards we would have together spun in my head, and I smiled. For the rest of the day, unsure about how to share the news with my friends and family, unsure of how I would be received, I walked around feeling giddy and happy and light. I didn’t feel trapped or claustrophobic, which is how I always imagined a lifelong agreement must feel like – spending the rest of my life with my now fiancée seemed so natural. I was elated.
Over the next few weeks though, the dust slowly settled. Somehow, the surreal nature of my modern-day engagement, with the concept of throwing a wedding, with church bells and rings and cake, bewildered me, and this feeling hasn’t subsided. I’m still happy with the decision, just very unsure of how I go about it: a marriage isn’t just monogrammed towels and Christmas cards – is it? The expectations and rules of how to go about getting married have been so revised over the last generations. During my last phone conversation with my grandmother, she inquired about whether or not the place cards for the reception dinner had been finished yet.
It seems to throw off my friends too. One of my closest girlfriends told me recently that she just didn’t think I was “the kind of person,” that got engaged. Conversely, an old study abroad buddy Facebooked me to say “CONGRAGULATIONS!!” . I get the idea that in some schools, being engaged is not as rare in their graduating class.
Last week, I went to Barnes and Noble to figure out just how someone throws a wedding. After all, they don’t exactly teach that in college. What is the etiquette on announcing your engagement? Does Facebook count as acceptable these days? I selected a few outrageously priced magazines, all with smiling brides on each glossy page, all wearing white. Would I wear white, or is that just too traditional?
As I purchased the magazines, the clerk looked at me sort of like I had looked at myself in the mirror that morning: Really? her face seemed to say.
Really. For now, I am wearing my grandmother’s anniversary ring, until we can afford a “real” engagement ring. On Graduation Day, I imagine myself preparing to walk across the stage: all requirements completed, SIP turned in. Cap: check. Gown: check. Ring: check. I will carry my grandmother’s ring, perched on my right hand, across the stage, and I can’t help but wonder, knowing what my mother would say about her generation, just what my grandmother might tell me.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Response to Reading, for Week 3
I have actually really enjoyed reading Writing for Story, which, I'll admit it, is kind of a surprise.
I like that the way the book itself is set out like, well, a story. I really was hooked by the two examples Franklin sets out at the opening of the book: both Mrs. Kelly's Monster and The Ballad of Old Man Peters were so engrossing, I felt like I was reading for pleasure. I WISH I could write that well.
The point where I became confused had more to do with the "outline" that Franklin sets up as the way of constructing narrative stories. (I did, however, appreciate how he describes the Roman Numeral Outline as "the English Teacher's Revenge." I have always felt that way).
I realize that the outline serves to establish a clear focus and direction for stories that are big, messy, and long, with lots of details. Maybe its just that it seems so hard to create an outline as simply as Franklin describes - and that is why I am resisting.
Also interesting to me was Franklin's assertion that "polishing" a piece is something that should be easy - for me this has always been the hardest part of writing for me. I think that perhaps this is because I just start writing to "get it all out there" and then I have a mess to deal with, that requires a lot of backtracking into my own train of thought while I was writing the piece.
I will give it a shot though - I think it will help to keep the outline in mind BEFORE I start interviewing and doing the legwork for this upcoming profile piece.
I like that the way the book itself is set out like, well, a story. I really was hooked by the two examples Franklin sets out at the opening of the book: both Mrs. Kelly's Monster and The Ballad of Old Man Peters were so engrossing, I felt like I was reading for pleasure. I WISH I could write that well.
The point where I became confused had more to do with the "outline" that Franklin sets up as the way of constructing narrative stories. (I did, however, appreciate how he describes the Roman Numeral Outline as "the English Teacher's Revenge." I have always felt that way).
I realize that the outline serves to establish a clear focus and direction for stories that are big, messy, and long, with lots of details. Maybe its just that it seems so hard to create an outline as simply as Franklin describes - and that is why I am resisting.
Also interesting to me was Franklin's assertion that "polishing" a piece is something that should be easy - for me this has always been the hardest part of writing for me. I think that perhaps this is because I just start writing to "get it all out there" and then I have a mess to deal with, that requires a lot of backtracking into my own train of thought while I was writing the piece.
I will give it a shot though - I think it will help to keep the outline in mind BEFORE I start interviewing and doing the legwork for this upcoming profile piece.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Comments About Other People's Blogs
Toni:
Toni, you have such an interesting topic here. I really felt in tune with what you were talking about!
As far as the writing, the only point that was confusing was your introduction. The first time around, I thought that your post-weight loss state was when you developed the healthy mindset about food and eating...when, when you thinking about describing white bread as "poison" still seemed a little extreme. In other words, there didn't seem like there had been a REAL transition until the very end - maybe you could build on that a little?
I really enjoyed reading your article though!
Martin:
This is excellent. You are one of those gifted people that can somehow blend sadness with humor...in this really weird, fascinating ironic way. Like the detail about how you LIKE the smell of hospitals - that really illustrated your mindset, in a sad, but kind of funny, way.
I thought this was great, Martin. There was some word choice stuff that I would change, but I thought that overall it was extremely well done.
Regis:
COMMAS!!!
I really thought your article was interesting. But COMMAS?? Where, are, the, commas!!!!??? It drove me nuts.
Other than that, there's definitely PLENTY of interesting stuff here. It would have been more powerful if there had been a really clear transition point. WHEN, exactly, (notice the commas I just used? sorry, can't help it...) did you have the change in how you saw your situation? Was it the first time you were robbed, or the second? You made it seem like it was when you were walking around waiting for a cab, and then...you were robbed again.
Overall though, it really held my attention.
Mae:
I feel like if this were to be published, it would be so timely! Everywhere I go, I seem to run into people who want to talk about anxiety issues on this campus!
I think, like any first draft, the lede and kicker could be revised to do justice to your subject matter. Maybe you could BEGIN the piece with your mother's anxiety attack, as in, anecdotally?
I enjoyed it - the little details esp the bit about "stampeding kids trying to escape high school" were really good.
Jackie:
First off, I LOVED YOUR ARTICLE. I just really, really liked your voice, and it came across as really likable and accessible - like someone the reader would want to have a conversation with! You are so direct and concise - which makes what could be a sort of vague topic really flowing.The only thing I could think to say would be about the kicker - I think it could come full circle with your story - like, maybe you could end with an anecdote about your parents or about leaving the conference? I think that would give it a sense of completion.
Austin:
I really enjoyed the details that you included in your piece. I laughed out loud at the detail about face cream! Also, your description of your perfect man was so detailed and specific - it really gave me a clear image.
I think the only thing I would have liked to see was a more finished ending - although obviously you aren't done yet! I will be really excited to re-read it when you are all finished!
Toni:
I just need to get this off my chest: reading your article made me want to give you a hug! Your junior year sounds like it was just so, so miserable!
That said, I guess the fact that I felt that way speaks to your extensive detail and descriptions - which I really enjoyed.
The ending sounds a little too much like an academic essay. That's easily changeable though.
Overall, really nice work. And, for the record, after reading your piece I will never, ever go on a trampoline!
Toni, you have such an interesting topic here. I really felt in tune with what you were talking about!
As far as the writing, the only point that was confusing was your introduction. The first time around, I thought that your post-weight loss state was when you developed the healthy mindset about food and eating...when, when you thinking about describing white bread as "poison" still seemed a little extreme. In other words, there didn't seem like there had been a REAL transition until the very end - maybe you could build on that a little?
I really enjoyed reading your article though!
Martin:
This is excellent. You are one of those gifted people that can somehow blend sadness with humor...in this really weird, fascinating ironic way. Like the detail about how you LIKE the smell of hospitals - that really illustrated your mindset, in a sad, but kind of funny, way.
I thought this was great, Martin. There was some word choice stuff that I would change, but I thought that overall it was extremely well done.
Regis:
COMMAS!!!
I really thought your article was interesting. But COMMAS?? Where, are, the, commas!!!!??? It drove me nuts.
Other than that, there's definitely PLENTY of interesting stuff here. It would have been more powerful if there had been a really clear transition point. WHEN, exactly, (notice the commas I just used? sorry, can't help it...) did you have the change in how you saw your situation? Was it the first time you were robbed, or the second? You made it seem like it was when you were walking around waiting for a cab, and then...you were robbed again.
Overall though, it really held my attention.
Mae:
I feel like if this were to be published, it would be so timely! Everywhere I go, I seem to run into people who want to talk about anxiety issues on this campus!
I think, like any first draft, the lede and kicker could be revised to do justice to your subject matter. Maybe you could BEGIN the piece with your mother's anxiety attack, as in, anecdotally?
I enjoyed it - the little details esp the bit about "stampeding kids trying to escape high school" were really good.
Jackie:
First off, I LOVED YOUR ARTICLE. I just really, really liked your voice, and it came across as really likable and accessible - like someone the reader would want to have a conversation with! You are so direct and concise - which makes what could be a sort of vague topic really flowing.The only thing I could think to say would be about the kicker - I think it could come full circle with your story - like, maybe you could end with an anecdote about your parents or about leaving the conference? I think that would give it a sense of completion.
Austin:
I really enjoyed the details that you included in your piece. I laughed out loud at the detail about face cream! Also, your description of your perfect man was so detailed and specific - it really gave me a clear image.
I think the only thing I would have liked to see was a more finished ending - although obviously you aren't done yet! I will be really excited to re-read it when you are all finished!
Toni:
I just need to get this off my chest: reading your article made me want to give you a hug! Your junior year sounds like it was just so, so miserable!
That said, I guess the fact that I felt that way speaks to your extensive detail and descriptions - which I really enjoyed.
The ending sounds a little too much like an academic essay. That's easily changeable though.
Overall, really nice work. And, for the record, after reading your piece I will never, ever go on a trampoline!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Assignment 1: April 6, 2009
Engaged? Stumbling Upon the Mrs. Degree at K College
I remember my mother telling me a few days before I left for college that when she was a freshman at Northwestern in the late 1960’s, the goal for almost every one of her girlfriends was to find a husband by graduation. I remember how shocked I had been: “Seriously?” I had asked her, my mouth hanging open, incredulous. The idea of getting married immediately after college was something I had never even heard of, much less considered even a slight possibilities for myself. When a handful of friends from high school, and one or two of my college classmates, became romantically serious with someone and then engaged junior year, I will admit that I sometimes judged them, at times felt sorry for them. Getting married at 22 and 23 just doesn’t seem to happen in my generation, and it is not nearly as common as it was in my mother’s and grandmother’s generations.
So when I found myself leaning over the glass countertop in the jewelry section at Boscov’s last month, the glass warm under my palms from the reflected lighting, a million glittering engagement rings sparkling under my eyes, the scene felt dream-like; not only because of the two glasses of champagne I had just downed.
A week after St. Patrick’s Day, I found myself at a crossroads; the question, popped half romantically, and half practically, was a weird illustration of the generational differences between my mother and I. After discovering that my Teach for America placement could only be negotiated based on whether or not my partner was also my husband-to-be, the proposal happened over the phone, after a serious discussion. Followed by mutual agreement.
I am happy with the decision. While I anticipate a long engagement – maybe sooner than five years, but who can really tell – there was not the requisite formality that my mother’s generation would have expected. No bended knee, no anxiety-fraught request of permission from my father. (My parents, true to the 21st century, are divorced anyway – which leads me to wonder how the modern age will affect our wedding announcements). At any rate, I know that this is the right life decision for me, intuitively I feel good about it. But somehow the surreal nature of my modern-day engagement, the concept of a wedding, with church bells and rings and cake, still baffles me.
It seems to throw off my friends too. One of my closest girlfriends told me recently that she just didn’t think I was “the kind of person,” that got engaged. Conversely, an old study abroad buddy from Hope College Facebooked me to say “CONGRAGULATIONS!!” I get the idea that at Hope, being engaged is not as rare in their graduating class. The response from another friend, who attends the ultra-left leaning Scripps College in southern California quite a different post on my wall: “Holy SHIT, you’re ENGAGED????”
Last week, I went to Barnes and Noble to figure out just how someone throws a wedding, anyway. After all, they don’t exactly teach that in college. What is the etiquette on announcing your engagement? Does Facebook count as acceptable these days? I selected a few outrageously priced magazines, all with smiling brides on each glossy page, all wearing white. Would I wear white? Is that too traditional? Does that cramp my feminist style? As I purchased the magazines, the clerk – a girl about my age - looked at me sort of like I had looked at myself in the mirror that morning: Really? her face seemed to say. I, too, am still in the process of convincing myself that I am, really, engaged.
For now, I am wearing my grandmother’s anniversary ring, until we can afford a “real” engagement ring. On Graduation Day, I imagine myself preparing to walk across the stage: all requirements completed, SIP turned in. Cap: check. Gown: check. Ring: check. I will carry my grandmother’s ring, perched on my right hand, across the stage, and I can’t help but wonder, knowing what my mother would say about her generation, just what my grandmother might tell me about hers.
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