Kristof

I love how Kristof utilizes Op-Ed to bring in a wide range of topics to cover a story that wouldn't traditionally sound very news worthy. Like "The Power of Mockery" sounds like the topic for an essay or a section of a novel, but he's able to use it in the Op-Ed style to make it relevant and in a short readable form. He brings in the revolutions in the Middle East, anti-smoking campaigns, and a group that worked to stop gang violence to address how violence or police action isn't the best solution. He still provides sources and specific examples, but he is able to use his own voice to weave them together into a more cohesive piece.
Another tactic of Kristof's that I appreciated was used in "What About American Girls Sold on the Street?". He uses Girls Like Us by Rachel Lloyd as a window into breaching the topic of teen prostitution in the United States. He is not merely copying or condensing her piece, but he uses examples from it to help prove his bigger point. This kind of overlap is cool because he's providing publicity for her book and simultaneously using her expertise to make his piece deeper and have a more human aspect to it.
One trait I noticed about his pieces is that they're all pretty easy reads. I don't mean this in a negative way, but they could be read pretty quickly and there were very few lulls where I felt like setting my computer down or moving on to a new article.

Non-fiction rewrite

My Franklin outline

Conflict: 

-Disconnect between Jordan and I

Developments: 

1.Mom announces divorce

2.Jason is more assertive and says he wants to stay home.

3.Jordan ultimately sides with Jason and says no to worlds of fun as well.

Resolution:

-Choosing to not go to worlds of fun in spite of Jordan's desire to go ultimately allows Jordan to transition into I (future Jordan) because of his recognition of the benefits of responsibility to family even if its falling apart.

Worlds of Fun Revised

by Jordan Rickard

Jordan is 15 and he was going to Worlds of Fun. His mom was driving and his brother Jason and Jason’s girlfriend Liz were in the car with him. They were going to pick up his friend Justin. Jordan is me or was me, and will later become me. I write it this way because the person in the story is Jordan Rickard, but he is no longer me. I can see the van and there’s Jordan in the back seat. He sure is excited to go to Worlds of Fun.

Jason had decided to bring his girlfriend and Jordan was bringing his friend Justin. Justin was loud, eccentric, and waved his hands around a lot; perfect for a trip to Kansas’s biggest amusement park.

Very little was being said in the car. Jordan might have been listening to the minor chitchat between his brother and Liz, but I don’t remember them saying anything. Jordan was sitting in the backseat and staring out the windows as the Raytheon base slid by.  I think about Jordan’s fixation on the Raytheon base that day because Raytheon would eventually leave Wichita and build planes in France in collaboration with Air Bus. Jordan didn’t know this yet, and no one else in Wichita would see it coming.

Mom rolled through the stop sign at Kellogg and Webb but didn’t take the right towards the turnpike. Jason and I know how to drive to World’s of Fun, but Jordan didn’t so he didn’t notice when Jason gave Mom a questioning look.

“Jordan, can’t we get to Justin’s house by I-35?” asked Jason. I don’t know where Justin lives now, but his old house is right off of I-35.

“I’m not sure,” said Jordan. “It’s on Andover Road.”

Jason looked at Mom and she sighed. She took the next right into a strip mall. The purple van parked in front of the Play-It-Again Sports, which looked closed.

“You can just pull a u-turn and get back to 1-35,” said Jason. He looked at Liz and she nodded without saying anything. I think that’s why they got along for so many years. He liked nods of approval and she wanted some one to follow and agree with. Jordan just thought Jason was too good for her.

“I know how to get Kansas City, Jason,” said Mom as she turned off the engine.

“Should I call Justin and say we’ll be late?” asked Jordan.

“Maybe, just let me talk for a minute,” said Mom. Jordan thought he was going to Worlds of Fun. What’s the catch? I know now, but he wouldn’t have been able to guess. She awkwardly turned tried to turn around at us while staying seated.

“I’m divorcing your father,” said Mom. I notice now how she never called him your father until that moment, but she would continue to do so afterwards.            

She probably said more. I’m sure she went into an explanation before she let Jason or I try to get a word in, but those words are the only ones that mattered because Jordan didn’t care if she was unhappy or that his dad had become completely unresponsive. Jordan had smelled the smoke, but just now realized that the house was burning down. It didn’t seem that meaningful and poetic to Jordan, but it is to me and was to Jordan if you ask me about it now.

I think it’s significant that we stopped at Play-It-Again Sports. Hadn’t Jordan’s family been living through a marriage that had been used and mistreated so many times that no one was going to buy it anymore? Jordan had never been inside and wouldn’t have made the connection. There’s nothing more depressing than a store full of barely used treadmills.

If you ask me about it now I will tell you the dance my parents had done for years where my mom sold houses and my dad stayed in the office so they wouldn’t have to talk at work. I’ll tell my closest friends or people who have never met my family how Dad would spend hours in his underwear watching TV in bed. How Mom always left his dinner in the fridge and he would come and eat after Jason and I had gone to bed.

I understand why. I really do, but Jordan did not. Jordan just knew that he couldn’t catch his breath. He sat and gasped quietly in the back seat. He couldn’t even begin to think about what the implications of this were. Would he move? Would he have to choose one of his parents? Most importantly, why can’t he catch his breath? I remember Jordan breathing heavy for minutes while it may have just been a few seconds or even just one. One second where your lungs can’t seem to fill your chest and you can’t think of what the next move is.

Jason was angry. He began to rant and demand answers from Mom. He was angry about being told this in front of Play-It-Again Sports while on the way to Worlds of Fun. I think anger is a luxury. Anger is something you can afford to have when your girlfriend is holding your hand and you’re heading off to college next year. Finally, Jason asked a question that Jordan actually wanted to hear.

“Does Dad know?” asked Jason. Jordan couldn’t see his eyes as he looked at her, but I’ve seen that look of contempt now too and it sears but won’t cauterize.

“I told him to meet a new client at the office before we left.” said Mom. She had turned back forward and looked through the windshield. Jason snorted.

“What does that mean?” asked Jordan.

“I’m having someone meet him there to give him the papers,” she said. Jason snorted louder. Mom turned around and looked at him. Jason stared at her but spoke to Jordan.

“It means she’s having him served,” said Jason. Jordan knew what that meant. He watched television. I now associate this action with real people, but Jordan thought it was something that celebrities did to each other. Not parents who hadn’t cheated on each other or hit each other. I still haven’t heard that any of that happened, but now I think it may have been somehow crueler. Years of the silent treatment while sleeping on the same king size mattress every night.

“Where’s Dad going to stay?” asked Jason after a few moments.

“He has today to get some of his stuff out of the house, and after that he’ll have to make appointments,” said Mom. “He can stay at the office or one of his rentals.”

I still wonder why he was forced out of the house and why she didn’t have to leave. What would have happened if Dad had refused to sign the papers when the “new client” had given him the forms? I won’t ask either of my parents and it would seem like weird real life foreshadowing if I were to do too much research on my own.

“Do you still want to go to Worlds of Fun?” asked Mom. Jordan still did, but not because of roller coasters or overpriced soft drinks. Jordan didn’t want to have to call Justin and tell him they couldn’t take the trip as planned because Jordan’s mom was divorcing his dad. Jordan thought Worlds of Fun would be the almost surreal escape from this mess, if just for the afternoon.

“No, I want to be with Dad on his last day in the house,” said Jason. Perhaps Jason realized the torture it would be to sit in metal chairs and yell whoopee as the world spun around you and know that Dad was off packing his things. The world spins enough on its own.

“What about you, Jordan?” asked Mom. Jason looked at me.

“I don’t want to go to Worlds of Fun anymore,” he said.

My Mom and Dad are happier now. She plays tennis and drinks wine and my dad steals coffee from Panera Bread Company with his buddies. My Dad still brags and glows when he talks to his friends about how we wouldn’t abandon him on the day he got divorced. If Jason hadn’t spoken first then Jordan probably would have went with Mom to Worlds of Fun. I guess that’s the point of all of this. Jordan would have gone, but I wouldn’t.

Great article in Men's Health

I read this article in Men's Health today: http://www.menshealth.com/nutrition/man-without-taste
It's called "A Matter of Taste (And How I Lost Mine)". It's about a man who had an accident when he was a toddler and lost his taste of smell. What not everyone realizes is without a sense of smell all flavor is lost when eating food. You can distinguish sweet and sour or salty and umami, but that's all you can distinguish. The difference between vanilla and chocolate ice cream tastes exactly the same to him (except for any textural differences).
It's extremely interesting because he has still found a way to enjoy eating and drinking. He explores things on a textural level and will go through buffets piling different textures into a box and mixing them up as he eats them to see what makes the most interesting combination. He also eats tons of spicy food and finds pleasure in analyzing the different sensations that are induced by different peppers and hot sauces.
I like to cook and eat, but I've always taken food in as a complete package. It's interesting to see someone who's favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip purely because of the cooling sensation that the mint delivers. It's also a good example of narrative because we get insight into the textural differences of food and people who have similar olfactory disabilities to him while following the story of how he lives his life.
He also can distinguish between different kinds of whiskey by analyzing the burn that each one delivers. That's awesome.

Non-Fiction as Therapy

I've let a few people read my initial non-fiction piece and it's felt really good. I realize that this is a really simple statement, but it's significant because I don't feel that I'm still upset by my parents divorce or really suffer any lingering effect. It felt good to let people read it because I was able to analyze a time period in my life and let other people read it. It's fundamentally different than me telling someone about it or having a chat about divorce. I was able to hand people my computer and let them read it while I cooked or read something. When it was done they told me that they liked it and maybe other comments, but there was enough distance through the medium that it felt like my writing and not my life was what was being judged. I feel like when people affirm the success or partial success of a piece they are in turn validating my own analysis of my life.

Narrative Journalism and the article I chose

One of my favorite narrative journalism novels is In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. In this novel he varies from other authors I like such as Hunter S. Thompson because he removes his presence from the novel. The story is not about him interviewing the killers or traveling through the town in Kansas (woo Kansas!) talking to the townspeople who were effected by the murder. The novel works as a recreation of the events that occurred before the murder and afterwards. It reads like fiction, but is extremely gripping because the reader realizes that the people are real. Capote also works to humanize the killers as well by giving their backstories and what led them to the crime of murdering a whole family for next to no money.

It is because of this novel that I was really intrigued by "Getting It Wrong: Convicting the Innocent". Crimes are usually portrayed by listing the very basic facts (journalism, police reports, etc.). In most newspapers if the killer or victim is of little significance they only warrant a short article that lists the bare facts. However, as Garrett notes these are real people to and the stories of their arrest and convictions are far more complicated than the confessions they eventually made.

If following the stories of the guilty can be heart wrenching then it is that much more so when reading about the wrongfully convicted. Garrett tells the events of Frank Sterling's arrest as though it were a story rather than a police report. By being able to read Frank's complete story and the situation he was put through Garrett is able to humanize the other 250 people he helped exonerate.

The article reverts to a more traditional journalistic approach after Frank's story is completed, but what he says after resonates better because we now have a human face to associate with these crimes, and can better understand what it might feel like to be in prison for years knowing your own innocence (or you could watch Shawshank Redemption).

Choose Your Own Assignment

http://www.slate.com/id/2291061/
Sorry this is so late. I did the reading and completely forgot I had this due this week until I read the email from Marin.

Worlds of Fun (non-fiction story)

edit: forgot to write that I this would be in the style if I was intending to submit it to Lives from the NYT

Worlds of Fun

by Jordan Rickard

Jordan is 15 and he was going to Worlds of Fun. His mom was driving and his brother Jason and Jason’s girlfriend Liz were in the car with him. They were going to pick up his friend Justin. Jordan is me or was me, and will later become me. I write it this way because the person in the story is Jordan Rickard, but he is no longer me. I can see the van and there’s Jordan in the back seat. He sure is excited to go to Worlds of Fun.

Very little was being said in the car. Jordan might have been listening to the minor chitchat between his brother and Liz, but I don’t remember them saying anything. Jordan was sitting in the backseat and staring out the windows as the Raytheon base slid by.  I think about Jordan’s fixation on the Raytheon base that day because Raytheon would eventually leave Wichita and build planes in France in collaboration with Air Bus. Jordan didn’t know this yet, and no one else in Wichita would see it coming.

Mom rolled through the stop sign at Kellogg and Webb but didn’t take the right towards the turnpike. Jason and I know how to drive to World’s of Fun, but Jordan didn’t so he didn’t notice when Jason gave Mom a questioning look.

“Jordan, can’t we get to Justin’s house by I-35?” asked Jason. I don’t know where Justin lives now, but his old house is right off of I-35.

“I’m not sure,” said Jordan. “It’s on Andover Road.”

Jason looked at Mom and she sighed. She took the next right into a strip mall. The purple van parked in front of the Play-It-Again Sports, which looked closed.

“You can just pull a u-turn and get back to 1-35,” said Jason. He looked at Liz and she nodded without saying anything. I think that’s why they got along for so many years. He liked nods of approval and she wanted some one to follow and agree with. Jordan just thought Jason was too good for her.

“I know how to get Kansas City, Jason,” said Mom as she turned off the engine.

“Should I call Justin and say we’ll be late?” asked Jordan.

“Maybe, just let me talk for a minute,” said Mom. Jordan thought he was going to Worlds of Fun. What’s the catch? I know now, but he wouldn’t have been able to guess. She awkwardly turned tried to turn around at us while staying seated.

“I’m divorcing your father,” said Mom. I notice now how she never called him your father until that moment, but she would continue to do so afterwards.            

She probably said more. I’m sure she went into an explanation before she let Jason or I try to get a word in, but those words are the only ones that mattered because Jordan didn’t care if she was unhappy or that his dad had become completely unresponsive. Jordan had smelled the smoke, but just now realized that the house was burning down. It didn’t seem that meaningful and poetic to Jordan, but it is to me and was to Jordan if you ask me about it now.

If you ask me about it now I will tell you the dance my parents had done for years where my mom sold houses and my dad stayed in the office so they wouldn’t have to talk at work. I’ll tell my closest friends or people who have never met my family how Dad would spend hours in his underwear watching TV in bed. How Mom always left his dinner in the fridge and he would come and eat after Jason and I had gone to bed.

I understand why. I really do, but Jordan did not. Jordan just knew that he couldn’t catch his breath. He sat and gasped quietly in the back seat. He couldn’t even begin to think about what the implications of this were. Would he move? Would he have to choose one of his parents? Most importantly, why can’t he catch his breath? I remember Jordan breathing heavy for minutes while it may have just been a few seconds or even just one. One second where your lungs can’t seem to fill your chest and you can’t think of what the next move is.

Jason was angry. He began to rant and demand answers from Mom. He was angry about being told this in front of Play-It-Again Sports while on the way to Worlds of Fun. I think anger is a luxury. Anger is something you can afford to have when your girlfriend is holding your hand and you’re heading off to college next year. This became his speech to the entire office before he was fired and went to enjoy his pension. Finally, Jason asked a question that Jordan actually wanted to hear.

“Does Dad know?” asked Jason. Jordan couldn’t see his eyes as he looked at her, but I’ve seen that look of contempt now too and it sears but won’t cauterize.

“I told him to meet a new client at the office before we left.” said Mom. She had turned back forward and looked through the windshield. Jason snorted.

“What does that mean?” asked Jordan.

“I’m having someone meet him there to give him the papers,” she said. Jason snorted louder. Mom turned around and looked at him. Jason stared at her but spoke to Jordan.

“It means she’s having him served,” said Jason. Jordan knew what that meant. He watched television. I now associate this action with real people, but Jordan thought it was something that celebrities did to each other. Not parents who hadn’t cheated on each other or hit each other. I still haven’t heard that any of that happened, but now I think it may have been somehow crueler. Years of the silent treatment while sleeping on the same king size mattress every night.

“Where’s Dad going to stay?” asked Jason after a few moments.

“He has today to get some of his stuff out of the house, and after that he’ll have to make appointments,” said Mom. “He can stay at the office or one of his rentals.”

I still wonder why he was forced out of the house and why she didn’t have to leave. What would have happened if Dad had refused to sign the papers when the “new client” had given him the forms? I won’t ask either of my parents and it would seem like weird real life foreshadowing if I were to do too much research on my own.

“Do you still want to go to Worlds of Fun?” asked Mom. Jordan still did, but not because of roller coasters or overpriced soft drinks. Jordan didn’t want to have to call Justin and tell him they couldn’t take the trip as planned because Jordan’s mom was divorcing his dad. Jordan thought Worlds of Fun would be the almost surreal escape from this mess, if just for the afternoon.

“No, I want to be with Dad on his last day in the house,” said Jason. Perhaps Jason realized the torture it would be to sit in metal chairs and yell whoopee as the world spun around you and know that Dad was off packing his things. The world spins enough on its own.

“What about you, Jordan?” asked Mom. Jason looked at me.

“I don’t want to go to Worlds of Fun anymore,” I said.

When Jordan might have said yes, I said no. My Mom and Dad are happier now. My Dad still brags and glows when he talks about how we wouldn’t abandon him on the day he got divorced. Jordan would have, but I wouldn’t.