The End Is Just The Beginning

When I first began the class, I was versed in writing for the digital audience in terms of blogging and media reviews, as well as presenting continuing education courses through the web. What I was seeking to get a greater understanding of was where the digital market was in terms of mainstream journalism, as well as hoping to gain a greater understanding of how I could enrich my own online presentations to garner a larger and more interactive audience. I think this class has done that and much more.

The first assignment, after setting up our own blog, made me think about how I could take a personally relevant topic and make it accessible to a larger audience. Often, in my media reviews, I come at it from the viewpoint of the audience is already “in the know.” They are fans themselves, they've consumed the media and want to reflect upon it. By having to think about not only how to present a topic such as where I'm from, but also how to present it in a way that it's understandable to someone who has never been there, I was challenged to look at my writing in a whole new way. That skill has aided my ability to present information in my daily work environment, to be able to adapt the coursework from a physician's level to a medical student's level, so that learners who may not be “in the know” already can still understand and learn from the information presented.

For some aspects of the expansion of that assignment, I was already well-versed in the skills that were being taught. I could work towards making it accessible to an online audience because that was my background. In most of my writing, I've written for an online audience rather than an offline market, so the addition of relevant links and images was second nature to me. Additionally, our pairing up to give constructive feedback on our first blog posts was something that I had done many times before. However, the framing of our feedback within the suggested areas of identification made me focus and expand on those aspects of writing so that I could be more beneficial to my partner. It was interesting to see not only the feedback my partner gave me on my assignment, but also the discussion among my classmates on their background in giving and receiving constructive feedback. I find this is one skill that is essential in all aspects of writing, so to be able to get comfortable with it and be beneficial to those we are reviewing is something that will always serve us well in our careers.

The Week 5 assignment was interesting to me because, not only have I been challenged prior to write catchy titles for my media reviews, but also for the online continuing medical education coursework that I've presented. A catchy title, or hook, is what draws the reader in and it's also something that sticks in their mind so that they can remember and return later. I'm also in the midst of writing hooks at different word-counts for my first novel, so it was nice to see the challenge extended into a journalism arena as well. Since the assignment, I've begun thinking more about the length of my blog titles, as well as how to make sure they're fast, easy to remember, and engaging to a reader.

I enjoyed creating the Fandomania article for our Week 6-7 assignment, exploring the heavy topic of the Leviathans that is currently being explored on Supernatural through both historical representation and popular culture representation. This was a bit challenging for me because, keeping in mind the audience that I was writing for, I didn't want to get too bogged down in the historical texts of the topic, but I also wanted to explore and expand on how media was currently representing the topic. Additionally, I wanted to compare how the show was utilizing historical aspects of the myth, as well as adapting the elements to create their own story. Because of how much research went into it, and where the current storyline of the show is during the mid-season hiatus, I'm planning on using the article for Fandomania sometime this month. It will serve as a nice mid-season hiatus topic, as well as informing the fans of how layered the current storyline is.

Continuing on my Supernatural theme, I was glad that I got to live-blog the current episode for our Week 8 assignment. I had been doing so prior, since I have to review the episodes for Fandomania, so I tend to live blog my thoughts as I take notes during the airing. I assumed this would be a continuance of that, but it wasn't quite as easy as I thought. True live-blogging, without the ability to pause the event, is challenging because you tend to miss what's going on while you're blogging about the prior events. It certainly stretched my ability to multi-task! But though the assignment I learned how to make quicker notes, a point of remembrance almost, so that I could go back and expand upon it later. I didn't need to get a whole paragraph down while I was live-blogging, I simply needed to get a note down of “this is what's happening” since those watching along with me would be able to fill in the blanks. Those who came back after the event would be able to see my expanded posts, so they would have the gaps filled in without having to be present as the episode was happening live.

In close competition with the Leviathan article, our Week 10-11 assignment ranked up there as most fun and most challenging for me. I already had a passion for the topic of Jason Todd / Red Hood and had witnessed the controversy that erupted over the release of his new series, so I knew I had a willing audience to give feedback on what they thought. This was quite different than my usual articles, as I write opinion pieces and reviews, so I had to keep reminding myself that this had to be unbiased and equal to both sides. Whichever way my opinion swayed was not relevant to the presentation of the quotes, so I had to make sure that I got quotes that presented both sides. And I did, to abundance. In many ways, rather than having too few sources, I think I was overwhelmed by having too many. I set up a survey to gather my information, since I would be asking the same questions to everyone to get their differing opinions, but perhaps if I do this again I should limit the time period to only a few days rather than a week. But, sorting through the responses and having so many to choose from allowed me to have a more cohesive and balanced presentation of quotes. I was better able to not let my own opinion influence the way the article slanted and instead showed both sides equally.

I feel like I've learned so much from not only my own assignments, but through my interaction with my classmates in discussions. We have been able to learn and grow together, bringing our own viewpoints to the forums and gaining more knowledge through each others' experiences. Whereas I could contribute more towards the use of current digital tools, my classmates could contribute towards the transformation of journalism from a paper market to a digital one. I think I know much more about the traditional journalism field now and I think my classmates may know more about the blogging field that I'm involved in. We've learned together and we've all benefited.

Tyrrell County Upbringing

Those who have never lived in a small town are often hard-pressed to understand the very nature of such a compact community. In my town, news didn't come when the Scuppernong Reminder was printed and delivered on Wednesdays, but instead was passed around as fast as a phone call could be made. If someone was in need of help, the community was there. And if someone died, everyone would come out to celebrate the person's life. It might be hard to envision an environment where, not only does everyone know your name, they also know your entire family. In my case, they often were my family.

I am from Tyrrell County, which is the least-populated county in North Carolina. Our population sits around 4,000 people, and the county seat of Columbia is home to only 500. This serves as our only real town. Technically, I come from a smaller community called Gum Neck, but anyone who ventures out of the county always lays claim to the town of Columbia since that's where our addresses are from. Though, most of the time, I still have to correct people and emphasize that it's Columbia, North Carolina, not South Carolina. Mail has been re-routed more times than I can count because of that mistake. And it's also easy to spot someone who is not from or familiar with the area because they inevitably mispronounce Tyrrell. It's not Ty-Rel, as outsiders often try to emphasize, but instead pronounced Turl. More than one syllable is unnecessary.

We were a small community and, compared to the larger areas that I've lived in since going to college, Tyrrell County was almost a county outside of time. I'm often asked how I lived in such seclusion when I was younger, and when I return home for visits I often wonder it myself, but growing up none of us in the community knew any differently. I didn't know what I was missing because I didn't feel like I was lacking anything. I didn't have internet, despite it being the last decade of the 20th century, so I couldn't surf the information superhighway. However, I had the library and that opened up the world to me. There was no cable television, but instead the three main channels of PBS, NBC, and CBS. The ABC station would come in when the antenna was turned just right, but that was seldom. Entertainment didn't come from a screen, but instead from my imagination. Wintertime was spent inside making up elaborate stories with my cousins. Summertime was spent outside, the house deemed off-limits once breakfast was over and I was allowed back in when suppertime rolled around. The heat and humidity didn't feel so bad when my cousins and I were busy traipsing through the woods or out on the ditch bank seeing how many fish we could catch. We didn't lack for anything.

With a population as small as Tyrrell County, not only did I know everyone growing up, most of the county population was a member of my extended family. Cousins were my classmates, Uncle James was my principal, and Miss Patty taught me English just as she had done with my parents before me. In those rare instances when it was hard to figure out just where people fit on the family tree, they'd be deemed a cousin, an uncle, or an aunt depending on their age. With that commonality, I always knew that there was someone looking out for me no matter where I went. It didn't matter whose house I ended up at, when it was mealtime I was always welcome. And if I wanted to spend the night, it was no problem. School trips were more like family vacations, with any number of adults ready to discipline me or protect me just like my parents would. That sense of family community continued throughout my life, as I made subsequent visits back home. When I returned, during my college summers, to teach summer enrichment classes at the elementary school, my first and second grade students were the next generation of my cousins.

As you can imagine, with such a small population, school was an interesting situation. When I talk about the size of my school to those outside the immediate area, their first reaction is to ask if I went to a private school. No, the Tyrrell County school system was just that tiny. We had one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. And my graduating class had only 15 students. Of these students, 8 were in the academically-gifted program, which meant we were even more condensed into a smaller classroom environment for honors classes. I've heard college friends complain that when they were growing up, the smart kids were looked down upon as nerds, but that wasn't my experience. It wasn't a stigma to be smart in our class, it was an expectation. Being in honors classes meant you had a chance to seize opportunities outside the county. With little to no money in the community, academic achievement was a way to ensure that financial support for college was coming. Without that guarantee, people were regulated to carry on the family tradition of staying close to home in labor-intensive jobs. Those who managed to go to college, like me, are celebrated for their achievements no matter what career paths we've pursued.

Growing up, I took for granted that everyone's living situation mirrored mine. No one was deemed poor in my town because none of us had money. No one was a stranger because the term didn't exist in our community. And no one was alone because there was always someone around to give a friendly wave or a comforting hand on the shoulder. So, when I went to college at UNC-Chapel Hill, it was a culture shock, but one I was ready for. I often joke about my entry into UNC because my Freshman dorm had more people in it than my hometown. Yes, it was a big change for me, but I had been given the emotional and intellectual support in my community to want to push out into the unknown and discover the world outside the boundaries of Tyrrell County. It never meant I fully left that existence behind, but simply that the foundation my upbringing afforded me has made my life that much richer and grounded. I am grateful that I had the experiences I had because it made me the person I am today.

Small Town Family

Those who have never lived in a small town are often hard-pressed to understand the very nature of such a compact community. News didn't wait for a paper deadline, but instead was passed around as fast as a phone call could be made. If someone was in need of help, the community was there to aid them. And if someone died, everyone would come out to celebrate their life. It might be hard to envision an environment where not only does everyone know your name, they also know your entire family. In my case, they often were my family.

I am from Tyrrell County, which is the least-populated county in North Carolina. Our population sits around 4,000 people and the county seat of Columbia is home to only 500. Technically, I come from a smaller community called Gum Neck, but anyone who ventures out of the county always lays claim to the town. It's just easier to explain, though most of the time I still have to correct people and emphasize that it's North Carolina, not South Carolina. Mail has been re-routed more times than I can count because of that mistake. It's also easy to spot someone who is not from or familiar with the area because they inevitably mispronounce Tyrrell. It's not Ty-Rel, but instead Turl. The Southern accent comes through loud and clear.

And with a population as small as Tyrrell County, not only did I know everyone growing up, most of the county population was a member of my extended family. Cousins were my classmates, an uncle was my principal, and the same teachers that my parents had were teaching me as well. I returned during my college summers to teach summer enrichment classes at the elementary school and all my students from first and second grade were cousins. When it was hard to figure out just where the other person fit on the family tree, they'd be deemed a cousin, an uncle, or an aunt depending on their age. I never met a person who wasn't in the murky family tree somewhere. With that commonality, I always knew that there was someone looking out for me no matter where I went. It didn't matter whose house I ended up at, when it was mealtime I was always welcome. And if I wanted to spend the night, it was no problem. School trips were more like family vacations, with any number of adults ready to discipline me or protect me just like my parents would.

As you can imagine, with such a small population, school was an interesting situation. When I talk about my school to those outside the immediate area, their first reaction is to ask if I went to a private school. No, the Tyrrell County school system was just that tiny. We had one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. And my graduating class had only 15 students. Of these students, 8 were in the academically-gifted program, which meant we were even more condensed into a smaller classroom environment for honors classes. I've heard college friends complain that when they were growing up, the smart kids were looked down upon as nerds, but that wasn't my experience. It wasn't a stigma to be smart in our class, it was an expectation. Being smart meant you had a chance to seize opportunities outside the county. With little to no money in the community, being smart was a way to ensure that financial support for college was coming. Without that guarantee, people were regulated to carry on the family tradition of staying close to home in labor-intensive jobs. Those who have managed to go to college, like me, are celebrated for their achievements no matter what career paths we've pursued.

I'm often asked how I lived in such seclusion, and when I return home for visits I often wonder it myself, but growing up none of us in the community knew any differently. I didn't know what I was missing because I didn't feel like I was lacking anything. I didn't have internet, so I couldn't surf the information superhighway, but I had the library and that opened up the world to me. There was no cable television, but instead the three main channels of PBS, NBC, and CBS. The ABC station would come in when the antenna was turned just right, but that was seldom. Entertainment didn't come from a screen, but instead from my imagination. Wintertime was spent inside making up elaborate stories with my cousins. Summertime was spent outside, the house deemed off-limits once breakfast was over and I was allowed back in when suppertime rolled around. The heat and humidity didn't feel so bad when my cousins and I were busy traipsing through the woods or out on the ditch bank seeing how many fish we could catch. We didn't lack for anything.

I took for granted that everyone's living situation mirrored mine. No one was deemed poor in my town because none of us had money. No one was a stranger because the term didn't exist in my mind. And no one was alone because there was always someone around to give a friendly wave or a comforting hand on the shoulder. So, when I went to college at UNC, it was a culture shock, but one I was ready for. I often joke about my entry into UNC because my Freshman dorm had more people in it than my hometown. Yes, it was a big change for me, but I had been given the emotional and intellectual support in my community to want to push out into the unknown and discover the world outside the boundaries of Tyrrell County. It never meant I fully left that existence behind, but simply that the foundation my upbringing afforded me has made my life that much richer and grounded. I don't know how drastically different my life would be had I not grown up in such a small community, but thankfully I'll never have to know.