Cris Hanks

Writing portfolio

Table of Contents
4
6
8

11
13
15

originals
Good mother
Strangers
columbia

finals
good mother
strangers
columbia

reflection
essay
Works Cited
Courses

22
26
27

originals

good mother

y children wander the

streets and I stumble
over the stove. Its
late and my stomach churns
as I wonder where they are;
imagining them, as if by default, perfectly horrifyingly
still, face down in some pasillito. I cant stop thinking about
what Fatima told me about
her son and how shes been
wondering where hes been
for the last three years. Running every possible scenario
in my head, I wish they would
just stay with me, give me one
less thing to worry about. My
boyfriend stumbles into the
doorway, slurring so badly
that I, if I hadnt known him
for so long, wouldnt be able
to understand what hes complaining about. The way he
looks at me makes me wonder
if its my fault for letting him
drink, for being too afraid to
beg him to sober up and love
me. Is that so hard? Maybe it
is. I spend the last hours begging him to leave screaming
for him to never come back.
I mean what I say, what his
actions demand me to as if
por favor, amor, not in front of
the kidsis enough to change
him into the man I wished he
was. But those are all distant,
half-true memories made up
of what really happened and

what I wish happened, like a

lie Ive been telling myself for
so long that I cant distinguish
the truth from the self-prescribed
fabrications.
The
more I insist, the more he rejects me. He yells. I cry. Thats
when the kids break out from
this awful threshold and escape to their back-yard-Neverland. And he stays until the knock on the door.
Catching myself pacing back
and forth, drying my eyes,
suddenly realizing that I burnt
the tortillas Ive been cooking
right in front of me as I wait
for the missionaries. This is
the third time theyve come
and I still havent read the
book they left me. I want to.
I cant read. They dont know.
I will tell them that I was too
busy working, or cooking, or
visiting my parents. I havent
had work in weeks and Im
cooking the last of our rice;
but after the night Ive had I
feel I deserve the justification.
For some distant, ironic reason that I understand about as
well as I grasp my boyfriends
addiction to alcohol, my faith
tells me that if I give them what
little we have God will help
me find a way. He has so far.
Theyll ask me where my
kids are and Ill tell them that
theyre around the corner,
coming. Theyll ask me where

my boyfriend is, and if they

can teach him. Ill tell him hes
working. I start to count the
lies in my head and wonder
how many I can justify as the
words forgive me Father, for
I have sinned creep into my
mind. If Im being honest with
myself, for once, Im not ready
to tell them the truth: that he
drinks away what money we
have, that he hits me, that hes
the worst mistake I ever made.
But thats why I called them:
not for someone who will just
listen to me, not even for the
dear God bless this familys or
to know that someone anyone actually wants to come
here. They taught me that I
can take it back and make it
right and make the pain go
away. Despite my worries and
doubts before the impossibility of change, I called them
for hope; its what they give
me. Even if they were nothing
more than storytellers I would
believe. So when they knock, I
open and when they talk, I listen and when we pray, I hope.

strangers

take the short path;

across the grass, the
same way I did yesterday, and the day before, and
the day before that. It saves
me ten minutes on the commute home. As I stray from the
concrete path, the lawn-care
worker gives me the two-second version of his lecture on
why people shouldnt walk all
over the grass he just tended.
But I dont listen. Shaking his
head, the worker goes back
to weeding the flower beds.
Theres no time for conversations that arent going to
change the way I walk home
tomorrow anyway. So I snub
him, I know I do; the same way
I did yesterday and the day before, and the day before that.
The girl from Comms 101
passes by too, like she always
does after school at about 2:55
PM. She looks up from books
nestled tightly to her chest,
stride slackening almost unnoticeably. Her fingers weave,
tucking her perfect brunette
hair or would be perfect, if it
werent for the smallest strand
curling just over her brow
behind her right ear but carefully because it took so long
to do this morning. Breathing in, particles of something
transcendent fill her lungs
with the tiniest courage. Their
paths cross in that moment
when time and space suspend
and eternity fits in a second.
The tiniest grin dares across
her face only to fade as her
gaze relapses to the pavement
like mine does; like we always
do after class at about 2:55 PM.
Fumbling hands find empty
pockets; I left my headphones

at home, and the path seems

doubly long without music.
Footsteps, the rustle of the
wind through the trees, and
the echo of others distant,
passing conversations will
have to suffice. A handful of
passersby gather as a curbside
stranger strums some familiar
tune. They clap to the rhythm
and a more outgoing bystander joins in for a few bars until
the girl at his side laughs and
playfully nudges him to stop.
As the claps cease and the encore slowly fades out, loose
change spills out of the pocket of a stranger in front of
me. It scatters over the blacktop in every direction as he
turns around. He looks familiar, but not enough to know
how or exactly where from.
The slanted grin and wide
eyes say he somehow knows
me. Hes probably from the
apartment complex, or maybe the one across the street.
While we gather up the variety of coins, we chat about
paying rent and torn pockets
small talk. That eighty and
some-odd cents cost me almost two full minutes. After
helping him gather the coins,
I shrug off the strangely-familiar-stranger with a customary grin and the no problem
that comes with it, and follow ten steps behind him the
rest of the way home. Not a
word. He lives down the hall.
I swing open the crooked
door to my apartment, which
always takes longer than it
should because it doesnt fit
the jams. Its the same as every other day. Heaving open
the door reveals traces of old
soda cans and crusty paper

plates that litter the living

room floor I just cleaned the
day before. It looks like the
roommate is still asleep in
the other room. Despite the
setback, I have just enough
time to drop my backpack on
the floor, open up a cold Dr.
Pepper and lay down on the
couch a while before its time
to get ready for work. Instead
of making an effort to tidy up
Ill take the full ten because
its been a long day and my
head is killing me. Ten minutes pass by faster than anticipated. Just like every day, the
clock ticks and my last minutes dwindle away. I lay down
a moment longer as if I can
cheat time out of a few more
seconds. Eventually I force
myself up off the stiff couch
from another unsatisfactory
rest thats only slightly better
than nothing. Wading through
remnants of someones post
week-day party, I scratch my
key into the key hole and
jerk open lifes threshold.
And I take the short path.

columbia

radio ad
1

SFX

VO

Extremely heavy rain and thunderstorm, which plays throughout the

spot.

Guy: Honey, this looks like a great

spot to set up camp.
Girl: You said it, honey. What a
view!

Girl searching for firewood, footsteps in the woods.

Guy: I guess Ill get started on the

fire then.
Girl: Good idea, I think I saw some
wood over there.

15
Storm picks up louder.

Girl (to herself) : Great, its soaking wet!

Girl: HONEY! THE WOOD IS
TOTALLY SOAKED!

30

Huge lightning crack and sound of

a tree crashing down.

Guy: Really? Gee, thats strange. Ya

know, my sadwich is really soggy
too.
Girl: I dont get it, why is everything so wet?
Guy: Im not sure. Its kind of eerie
though. Maybe we should start
getting the tent set up.
Girl: Oh my gosh! Honey look!
Guy: Did that tree just fall over?!

45
Girl: Theres some weird voodoo
going on here. Lets move to a different spot.
Guy: Good idea, this place is creepin me out.
Narrator: Thunderstorms are a
whole different experience when
youre in Columbia gear.
59

Theres no bad weather, just bad

gear. Columbia.

TV SPOT

:30 TV Spot
:00

Scene: A couple is sitting on their camping

chairs in the woods. Rain pours, extreme wind
blows, and thunder strike occasionally. They sit
legs crossed, very casually, enjoying a warm cup
of cocoa.

:05

Husband: Well, dear youve done it again. This

is the best hot cocoa you have ever made.

:10

Wife: Thanks, honey. Its that old family recipe

that you love! The rain turns to hail, and starts
dropping heavily into their cocoa.

:20

Husband: Takes a deep breath. Could life get

any better?

:25

A huge tree branch behind them breaks and falls

to the ground. They dont even acknowledge it.
The sound of the weather continues. The screen
fades to black.

:30

SUPER: Columbia. Theres no bad weather, only

bad gear.

10

finals

Good
Mother
I

burn my hand as
I stumble over the
stove. Its late and
my stomach churns as I
wonder where they are;
imagining them, as if by
default,
perfectly
horrifyingly still, face down
in some pasillito. I cant
stop thinking about what
Fatima told me about her
son and how shes been
wondering where hes been
for the last three years.
Running
every
possible
scenario in my head, I wish
they would stay, give me one
less thing to worry about.
My boyfriend spills into the
doorway, slurring so badly that I, if I hadnt known
him for so long, wouldnt
be able to understand what
hes complaining about. The
way he looks at me makes
me wonder if its my fault
for letting him drink, for be-

ing too afraid to beg him

to sober up and love me. Is
that so hard? Maybe it is.
He looks at me for seconds
and Im begging him to leave
screaming for him to never
come back. I mean what I say,
what his actions demand me
to as if por favor, amor, not
in front of the kids is enough
to change him into the man
I thought he was. But those
are all distant, half-true
memories made up of what
really happened and what I
wish happened, like a lie Ive
been telling myself for so long
that I cant distinguish the
truth from the self-prescribed
fabrications. The more I
insist, the more he rejects
me. He yells. I cry. The kids
escape
to
their
back-yard Neverland and
one day they wont come
back. And he stays
until the knock on the door.
I catch myself drying my
11

eyes, suddenly realizing that

I burnt the tortillas Ive been
cooking right in front of me
as I wait for the missionaries.
This is the third time theyve
come and I still havent read
the book they left me. I want
to. I cant read. They dont
know. I will tell them that I
was too busy working, or
cooking, or visiting my
parents. I havent had work
in weeks and Im cooking the
last of our rice. I deserve the
justification.
For
some
distant, ironic reason that I
understand about as well as
the reason I let my boyfriend
come back. My faith tells
me that if I give them what
little we have God will help
us find a way. He has so far.

hits me, that hes the worst

mistake I ever made. But thats
why I called them, not for
someone who will just
listen to me, not even for the
dear God bless this familys
or to know that someone
anyone actually wants to
come here. They taught me
that I can take it back and
make it right and make the
pain go away. Despite my
worries and doubts before the
impossibility of change, I
called them for hope; its
what they give me. Even if
they were nothing more than
storytellers I would believe.
So when they knock, I open
and when they talk, I listen
and when we pray, I hope.

My faith tells me
that if I give them
what
little we have God
will help us find a
way.
Theyll ask me where my
kids are and Ill tell them
that theyre around the
corner,
coming.
Theyll
ask
me
where
my
boyfriend is. Ill tell him hes
working. I start to count
the lies in my head and
wonder
how
many
I
can justify as the words
forgive me Father, for I have
sinned creep into my mind.
If Im being honest with
myself, for once, Im not
ready to tell them the truth:
that he drinks away what
money we have, that he
12

s t r a n g e r s

13

take the short path;

across the grass,
the same way I did
yesterday, and the
day before, and the day before that. I save ten minutes
on the commute home. As I
stray from the concrete path,
the lawn-care worker gives
me the two-second version on
how Im killing his grass. But I
dont listen. Shaking his head,
the worker goes back to weeding the flowerbeds. Theres no
time for conversations that arent going to change the way

Her gaze
relapses to the
pavement like
mine does; like
they always do
after class at
about 2:55 PM.
I walk home. I brush him off.
I know I do; the same way I
did yesterday and the day before, and the day before that.
The girl from Comms 101
passes by too, like she always
does after school at about
2:55 PM. She looks up from
books nestled tightly to her
chest. Her stride slackens almost unnoticeably. Slender
fingers weave softly, tucking a
single curl of her perfect brunette hair behind her right
ear but carefully because it
took so long to do this morning. Breathing in, particles of
something transcendent fill
her lungs with the tiniest cour-

age. Our paths cross in that

moment when time and space
suspend and eternity fits in a
second. The tiniest grin dares
across her face. And fades.
Fumbling hands find empty
pockets; I left my headphones
at home, and the path seems
doubly long without music.
Footsteps, the rustle of the
wind through the trees, and
the echo of others distant,
passing
conversations
fill my ears like ear buds.
A handful of passersby
gather
as
a
curbside
stranger
strums
an
unfamiliar tune. They clap
to the rhythm and a more
outgoing bystander joins in
for a few bars until the girl
at his side laughs and playfully nudges him to stop.

Wading through remnants of

someones post week-day party, I scratch my key into the
key hole and jerk it open.
And I take the short path.

I
swing
open
the
crooked
door
to
my
apartment, which always
takes longer than it should because it doesnt fit the jams.
Its the same as every other
day. Heaving open the door
reveals traces of dented soda
cans and paper plates that
litter the living room floor.
The short path gave me just
enough time to drop my backpack on the floor, open up a
cold soda and lay down on the
couch a while before its time
to get ready for work. Ten
minutes pass by quickly. Just
like every day, the clock ticks
and my last minutes dwindle
away. I lay down a moment
longer as if I can cheat time
out of a few more seconds.
Eventually I force myself
up off the stiff couch from a
moment
thats
only
slightly better than nothing.
14

Columbia
The following pages contain advertisements that would be used in radio and TV commercial spots, out
of home ski lodges, and magazines.
The strategy behind both ads relates
to the idea that there is no such
thing as bad weather, only bad gear.

Advertising Goals

Creative Strategy

Promote Columbia as the brand

that provides everyday
adventurers with quality gear for
even the most severe situations.

Columbia provides the everyday

adventurer with quality gaer that
can weather any storm by proving
that there is no such thing as bad
weather, only bad gear.

Increase sales among the target

market.

15

radio SPOT
1

SFX

VO

Extremely heavy rain and thunderstorm, which plays throughout the

spot.

Guy: Here we are! The perfect

campsite. That weatherman is full
of bologna!
Girl: You said it, honey. What a
view!

Girl searching for firewood, footsteps in the woods.

Guy: I guess Ill get started on the

fire then.
Girl: Good idea, I think I saw some
kindling over there.

15
Storm picks up louder.

Girl (to herself) : Great, its soaking wet!

Girl: HONEY! THE KINDLING IS
TOTALLY SOAKED!?!
Guy: Really?? Gee, thats strange...

Huge lightning crack and sound of

a tree crashing down.

Girl: I dont get it, why is everything so wet?

30
Guy: Im not sure. Its kind of eerie
though. Maybe we should set up
the tent.
Girl: Oh my gosh! Honey look!
Guy: Did that tree just fall over?!
45

Girl: Theres some weird voodoo

going on here. Lets move to a different spot.
Guy: Good idea, this place is givin
me the heebee geebees.
Narrator: Thunderstorms are a
whole different experience when
youre in Columbia gear.

59

Theres no bad weather, just bad

gear. Columbia.

16

tv spot

17

out of home

18

print ads

19

20

21

reflection
I

n his day, Plato believed rhetoric to be

the art of ruling the
minds of men (DeCaro, 4).
In ours, rhetoricians are at
the mercy of their audiences
like never before. In 2016
we speak to the educated,
highly opinionated masses
over a myriad of platforms
and contexts. I believe that
rhetoric is persuasive thought
and communication in which
a rhetor seeks to appeal to a
specific audience in order to
change current behavior, and
in turn obtain a specific goal.
The most successful rhetoric
must be equally beneficial
for both the rhetor and the
audience. In order for it to
be successful, then, rhetoric
must be forensic, demonstrative, and deliberative all at
once, while remaining appropriate in the fields of invention, arrangement, style, and
delivery. I arrive at this definition because, considering
the diversity of the rhetorical situations I encounter, I
find that these principles are
always present in successful
rhetoric. This definition of
rhetoric has proven successful throughout my academic, professional, and personal
life, which success fills me
with hope that the rhetorical
skills I have gained thus far
will prove successful in my
future rhetorical encounters.

Rhetoric
implies
more

than just writing, but also

thinking, deriving meaning
and
communicating
that
meaning in persuasive fashion. Philosophers have been
dissecting the meaning and
ethics of rhetoric since the
discovery of the wheel and
plow. Among thousands of

Rhetoric is the art

of understanding the
minds of men.
years of studies and examples of rhetoric, four schools
of philosophy have shaped
my personal definition of
rhetoric: That of the Sophists,
Plato, Aristotle, and Kenneth
Burke. The Sophists believed
that rhetoric was an artistic
tool of persuasion. They defined successful rhetoric as
The art that seeks to capture in opportune moments
that which is appropriate and
attempts to suggest what
is possible. (Poulakos, 26).
Sophists believed rhetoric to
be highly aesthetic, a form
of art. In Platos Encomium
of Helen, the Sophist character Gorgias argues that
rhetoric must be written
with art (13). Plato does
not fully agree. He believes
that the excess of aesthetics
in writing only confuses the
audience. But, in the second
book of Phaedrus, an explanation of rhetoric, his character Socrates declares that,

Its not speaking or writing

well thats shameful; whats
really shameful is to engage
in either of them shamefully
or badly (Griswold, 5.1). So,
we find that Plato did not
despise [rhetoric] completely,
just the excess of artfulness
of it. (Poulakos, 374). Plato
did believe that successful
rhetoric is audience-based and
philosophical. In Phaedrus,
Plato writes, the successful
speaker must also know the
nature of the human soul
and that, we cannot reach
a serious understanding of
the soul without understanding the nature of the world
as a whole (Griswold, 5.1).
To Plato, a successful rhetor
does not use excessive ornamentation or flowers of
rhetoric, but focuses on understanding and appealing
to his or her audience from
a philosophical standpoint.

Rhetoric wasnt about whether or not persuasion should
be artful for Aristotle; rhetoric was concerned with discovering the audience. Rhetoric meant understanding an
audience profoundly in order
to know how to appeal to it.
In his book entitled, The Art
of Rhetoric, Aristotle states
that, There are, then, these
three means of effecting persuasion. The man who is to be
in command of them must, it
is clear, be able (1) to reason
logically, (2) to understand
22

human character and goodness in their various forms,

and (3) to understand the
emotions (Aristotle, 11).
Like Aristotle, Kenneth Burke
believes that understanding
audience is important to successful rhetoric. Burke builds
upon Aristotles rhetoric as
he incorporates concepts such
as imagery into the previous
rhetors definition of rhetoric
as persuasion. In his book
Rhetoric of Motives, Burke explains the importance of imagery. He says, You persuade
a man insofar as you can talk
his language by speech, gesture, tonality, order, image, attitude, idea identifying your
ideas with his. (Burke, 55).
This definition relates closely to Sophistic and Platonic definitions of rhetoric, in
that he emphasizes tonality
and attitude in speech. It
also adds an aesthetic component, image, which goes
beyond the written word.
Rhetoric should be artful, but
art must be founded upon
great understanding of an audience, otherwise that art will
be used shamefully or badly
or unsuccessfully (Griswold,
5.1). Much like the Sophists,
I believe that rhetoric must
be aesthetically pleasing ,
and tailored to its audience.
And, like Burke, part of this
ornamentation stems from
imagery and a deep understanding of the audience. We

know that in todays world

it is increasingly difficult to
catch the attention of any
given messages potential
beneficiaries. No matter the
relevance or helpfulness of a
messages content, no one is
going to benefit from it from
the message that is never
seen. I also believe, as does
Plato, that the content must
be informative, containing
absolutely no fluff. Unnecessary ornamentation is distracting and counterproductive. So, should rhetoric be
written with art? (Plato,
13). Yes, insomuch as it is not
done shamefully or badly
(Griswold, 5.1). However, I do
not agree that rhetoric stems

Rhetoric should be
artful, but art must
be founded upon
great understanding
of an audience,
otherwise that
art will be used
shamefully or
badly.
from
understanding
the
world as a whole(Griswold,
5.1). I believe that successful rhetoric is only achieved
by truly understanding the
bits and pieces, the individual cultures and societies that
make up our world. Perhaps
Aristotle explains this aspect

of my view of rhetoric best.

Successful rhetoric means
reasoning logically with an
audience (Aristotle, 11). To
do so, a successful rhetor always begins with an accurate
and deep understanding of
an audiences human character and emotions; and
understanding of audience
always begins with in-depth
research of a specific subset
of a culture. Thus, such research requires an Aristotelian methodological approach.
At the heart of creating such
rhetoric is a writer that understands the character and
desires of a specific audience.
Too often rhetoric is used to
convince another individual or group to change their
opinions or act in such a way
that the rhetor gets what he/
she wants at the expense of
the audience. I believe that
ethical (and successful) rhetoric must be mutually beneficial. Rhetoric is appropriate
when both the rhetor(s) and
audience are in search of a
cause whose outcome can
be mutually beneficial. If either the rhetor or audience
knows that the others desires
cannot be fulfilled in a fully
satisfying way, rhetorical persuasion is inappropriate and
should not be employed. So,
how do we know if if a possible goal is appropriate? A
rhetor must fully understand
the audiences true intent
23

and desires. And in turn, the

audience fully understands
the rhetors true intent and
desires. Rhetoric begins long
before pen meets paper.
Advertising serves as a great
example of how to whether
or not rhetorical goal is appropriate. Before taking on
a project, advertisers conduct thorough research to
find whether or not there is
a market for a given brand
or product. Advertisers determine whether or not it
is appropriate to persuade a
particular market by putting
in place a specific set of requisites including ample potential customers in a given demographic that need or desire
a given product, who are able
and willing to invest in a given brand or product. To both
foster this understanding of
a potential markets human
character and emotions,
and to determine whether or
not a market is a realistic and
appropriate, advertisers perform ethnographies, in-depth
interviews, focus groups, and
surveys. Once an advertiser
know that there is sufficient
need and understands how
the
audience desires that
need to be filled, he or she
can create a message in all its
visual, logical, flowery beauty.
With the opportunities that
Ive been given to develop
my rhetoric in diverse situations and to work for clients
such as Nu Skin, Subaru, and
Snapchat in the BYU adlab,
I have developed skills and
abilities that will continue to
help me judge appropriate-

ness and create successful

rhetoric in my professional,
civic and family life. I will
be able to transfer my knowledge gained about research
resources and interviews to
better understand people and
cultures. As I go to work for
an agency, these skills will
transfer easily; theyre part
of the job description. Research connotes profound
understanding of desires and
Nature, and extends beyond
the professional sphere. A
representative from Young
& Rubicam, a prestigious ad
agency in New York, recently
interviewed me. She told me
that a good advertiser, a good

A good
advertiser, a good
husband, a good
father, and a good
friend all share a
common ability;
they listen.
husband, a good father, and a
good friend all share a common ability; they listen. In
advertising, listening means
taking time to conduct ethnographies, interviews, surveys, and focus groups. As a
husband, listening means taking time to have meaningful
conversations with my wife,
discerning her needs and
wants beyond what she says.
In family life it also means
and holding frequent family councils and one-on-ones
with my future kids. Listening means being an active
member of the community
in order to understand the

greater needs of the people

around me. But a successful
professional, family man, and
community member cant just
listen. Rhetoric means pen
meets paper. Rhetoric means
making available those things
my market wants and needs
in a way that blesses their
lives. It means taking care
of my family the way they
expect and deserve. It means
using what resources I have
to help those less fortunate
than I. I am glad for my experience with writing in diverse
situations and with truly listening through research. My
years as a student of advertising and rhetoric will help me
produce meaningful content
that will influence all aspects
of my future communication.
In this portfolio, you will find
three examples of successful
rhetoric. The first is a fictional creative writing sample called, Good Mother. Its
purpose is to convince those
many of us who have found
simple truths to happiness,
to share them with those
who have not. Good Mother
also reminds members of this
first group how lucky they
truly are. It is also written
to those less fortunate as a
possible means of inspiration
to seek spiritual truth and
find greater joy. The piece is
successful because, although
fictional, Good Mother draws
heavily on pathos and makes
assumptions about the state
of emotional and spiritual
ruin in which many families find themselves. These
assumptions are convincing
because, before writing the
24

piece, I spent two years living

among the economically, and
sometimes spiritually, impoverished people of Paraguay.
Consider those two years an
extended in-depth ethnography completely filled with
personal interviews. I myself
have lived my entire life as
a member of this more fortunate group, and understand
them well. As Aristotle might
put it, I was able to reason
with this audience because
I clearly understand the human character and emotions
of the audience. I was then
able to apply Sophist tactics
such as choosing a more creative and expressive genre.

dane for what it really is life.

I wrote Strangers to those of

us who periodically find ourselves in a state of blind repetition. The work was written
particularly to young adults.
The text is meant to bring
these people into a sense of
self-awareness, and is therefore largely demonstrative.
This was written in a Sophistic mindset. I began by writing from personal experience
with the sole purpose to create something entertaining to
read. The revision process became more Plato-Aristotelian
as I held literal focus groups
and interviews in order to
make sure that the fictional episodes throughout are
true to life and compelling. I
completely omitted episodes
that did not relate with the
audience. I arrived at themes
of exceptionally commonplace happenings that occur
around college campuses, and
framed them in a way that
shows the seemingly mun-

ence] (Burke, 55). All of the

pieces work together to convey a single, clear argument:
Theres no such thing as bad
weather, only bad gear. You
will find that several of these
examples portray literal visuals such as storyboards, but
all are exceptionally descriptive. Radio has been called the
theater of the mind: here you
will see how sounds, voice,
and the written word all work
together in a Sophist-style
discourse
that
persuades
every-day adventurers that
Columbia can provide them
with an alternative to their
inadequate camping gear.

My last entry is a series of

advertisements I wrote as
speculative work for an outerwear company called Columbia. The campaign is largely
Burkean, as it is based on
principles of order, image,
attitude, idea [and] identifying your ideas with [the audi-

I was able to
reason with this
audience because I
understand their
human character
and emotions.

Bogusky, Nu Skin, Subaru,

and more. I even look at my
resume through a rhetorical
glass; I see it now as an argument with an end goal in
which both parties must be
satisfied. I ask myself what
I want, what each potential
employer wants, and craft my
resume and cover letters as
such. I apply the same principles in my public life. Rhetoric has influenced my ability
to perform in leadership roles
including my participation in
humanitarian projects across
the globe. I strive to remember the purpose behind every conversation, I listen and
hear every audience, and I
write to them in a way that
not only informs, but also
pleases. So, in our professional, civic, and family lives, is
it possible to rule the minds
of men, or has rhetoric become the art of understanding and appealing to them?

These are only a few examples of rhetoric that I have

encountered thus far. Experiences I have highly influenced
my understanding of rhetoric.
I have found that rhetoric is
indispensable as I create and
sell ideas to clients and agencies such as Crispin-Porter &
25

works cited
DeCaro, Peter A. Origins of Public Speaking. Www.publicspeakingproject.org. Web. 09

Apr. 2016.
Poulakos, John. Toward a sophistic definition of rhetoric. Philosophy & Rhetoric

(1983): 35-48.
Black, Edwin. Platos View Of Rhetoric. Quarterly Journal Of Speech 44.4 (1958): 361.

Communication & Mass Media Complete. Wed. 7 Apr. 2016.
Griswold, Charles L. Plato on Rhetoric and Poetry. Stanford University. Stanford

University, 14 Feb. 2016. Web. 01 Apr. 2016.
Gorgias, Douglas M. MacDowell, Gorgias, and Gorgias. Encomium of Helen. Bristol

[Gloucestershire]: Bristol Classical, 1982. Print.
Aristotle. The Art of Rhetoric - Wendelberger. Wendelberger, 2008. Web. 01 Apr. 2016.
Burke, Kenneth. A Rhetoric of Motives. Berkeley: U of California, 1969. Print.

26

Courses
advertising
COMMS 211 - Media Writing
COMMS 230 - Intro Advertising
COMMS 302 - Popular Culture & Media
COMMS 330 - Advertising Concepts 1
COMMS 332 - Mrkt Media Planning & Strategy
COMMS 351 - Media & Their Audiences
COMMS 432 - Account Planning Mgmt
COMMS 489 - Strategic Ad Campaigns

Writing & Rhetoric

WRTG 150 - Writing & Rhetoric
ENGL 218R - Creative Writing
ENGL 312 - Persuasive Writing
ENGL 322 - Fundamentals of Rhetoric
ENGL 324 - Writing with Style
ENGL 325 - Visual Rhetoric
ENGL 328R - Studies in Composing
ENGL 400 - Writing & Rhetoric Capstone
27