MaryKate's DenveRhetor Writing Workshop Reflection

While I talked to Professor Bateman briefly about my rhetorical analysis, and had some ideas on what I needed to improve upon, the writing workshop was still extremely helpful. Merely reading my paper aloud to a group of people and the nervousness that brings helped me realize where I could refine my language and etc. Yet the most helpful element of the workshop was the feedback from other students. The suggestions were all very apt, especially the observation that I needed to set a context for the situation (i.e. what and where is Power Invasion Ministries) and the suggestion on how to expand the actual analysis part of my peice. I wrote about ethos and pathos yet I did not explictly explain how the speaker employed them, and to what effect they had. Also, I have to say the remarks reassuring me of my unbiasness were a big confidence boost. So thank you! I am sure the final draft of my DenveRhetor peice will be much more sensible and much more of an analysis due to all of the feed back I got. So thank you again and I'm off to revise. :)

Hello Everyone!
We apologize for the course blog being a little late this week...Zach and I decided a great topic for the blog this week would be focusing on the Shapiro article we read in class last week. It seemed to be a very interesting article and seemed to affect the class as a whole. We noticed not everyone got a chance to speak in class so we wanted to take the opportunity to open the blog up to everyone's personal stories this week. Zach shared his story of parents and college in class however I did not. My parents are the opposite of Zach's, however they are not extreme parents...just caring parents. My mother was always reminding me of college application deadlines, essays, and things I needed to do while preparing for college. Orientation week and letting go was a very hard concept for my parents, they offer their opinions on class schedules and major decisions, but will support me in whatever I choose to do. They continue to call everyday twice a day just to check up and say they miss me, which I appreciate because I miss them too. I would classify my parents in the middle of the spectrum and I am very grateful for that. They have been a huge part of my success and will continue to be. Where do you classify your parents? Is this comfortable for you? Please share your stories!! Have A Great Week Everyone!

Kitchen Shift at Project Angel Heart
The night started with a frazzled drive to the kitchen of Project Angel Heart. A car had been borrowed, and directions map quested in a hurry. We hit the road, only to sit in traffic and hit every red light possible. Despite the terrible luck driving, we made it to the kitchen only five minutes late. We walked into the front office and a wildly welcoming woman stood up from her desk. She greeted us with great eagerness and then took us right to where we were supposed to be. We made it to the kitchen and met our new boss, Summer. She handed us matching, flowery aprons, and some most unattractive hats to wear.
Dressed appropriately, and with clean hands, we were given our first task. Putting hamburger buns in plastic bags. One bun. In one bag. Thrilling. We bagged two monstrous boxes of buns, joking amongst ourselves and laughing. The last bun found a new home in a plastic bag, and we all let out a sigh of relief.
Summer came over to investigate our work. She approved, and then extended an invitation to “pita land” to us. “Pita land.” Didn’t sound that bad, but the way everybody rolled their eyes lead one to think of it as a rather hellish task. We were guided to the walk-in refrigerator. Four huge boxes of pita met our eyes. The sight of the endless pita to be bagged made it clear why so many eyes had rolled at the mention of “pita land.”
We wheeled the pita over to our distant table and began bagging. And we kept bagging. One pita. In one bag. For what seemed like an interminable amount of time. After what seemed like an eternity, we completed our task. We then moved on to chopping peppers. This new job contained the thrill of wielding a sharp object.
By the time that was done, it was time for us to clean up. We wiped down tables, cleaned out what appeared to be an overused coffee maker and detangled a mess of aprons fresh from the drier. It took about four people working diligently to deal with the mess of aprons that had emerged from the drier. It wasn’t until these final tasks that we started to talk with the other volunteers and employees. Simple, yet amusing conversation was had. Who knew that watching the show Scrubs was considered a guilty pleasure? We finished our tasks and wished everybody a good night. They in turn thanked us for helping out and doing the jobs that nobody else wanted, but that needed to get done. It wasn’t until that moment that I felt like I had helped. For the three hours that I bagged and chopped, it didn’t register that I was helping to feed people. I was preparing food for people with life threatening diseases. Food for people who needed it in order to remain alive. Despite the boredom that I had experienced periodically throughout the night, I felt like it was time well spent.

A Delivery Shift at Project Angel Heart
Saturday afternoon rolled around, and I found myself sitting on a bench at the side of the street. I was sitting, with my head leaned back, sunglasses covering my eyes, and quietly chatting with Marysia and MaryKate who sat on either side of me. It was a beautiful day full of sunshine and warm weather. We sat waiting for the ride that would take us to the Project Angel Heart headquarters where we would pick up food, receive a map, and then deliver said food to the destinations pointed out on the map.
Our ride came and we loaded into the vehicle. The drive to Project Angel Heart seemed long and relaxing to the point of sleep. But perhaps it was just the car ride and the warm sun that induced the desire to sleep. Eventually we arrived at our destination. We pulled up in front of what looked like a warehouse. The doors to the building were spilling out happy, smiling people, carrying colorful bags which must have been containing food.
We all got out of the car and walked inside the building. We entered and were quickly greeted by a friendly woman. She gave us a quick tour, had us sign some paper work, and then showed us our cart full of food and us a map. We loaded everything into the car and were on our way.
Upon pulling up to the first house, I could feel my heart rate accelerate a little bit. Marysia and I hopped out of the back seat and walked around to the trunk of the car. We gathered the food bags. We walked to the front door, and rang the door bell. A minute passed and there was no sound. We exchanged confused looks and then finally heard a sound. A voice from deep within the house shouted, “Coming!” Shortly after that the door opened and a woman stood before us. She was hooked up to an oxygen tank and looked a little frazzled. But she was still very nice to us. She told us where to place the food, thanked us for the food, and that was it. She thanked us, we wished her a good day, and then we left.
We were in her life for a matter of minutes. Maybe not even that. But I still felt like I had helped. Maybe this wasn’t warranted, but I couldn’t deny feeling good that I had brought this woman a supply of food that would last her the entire week.
The rest of the day continued in a similar manner. Two of us would go to every door. We worked out a cycle taking turns delivering food. Food was brought to older men, families where sons opened the door, and many others. Before we knew it, the shift was over, and all the food that had been residing in the trunk of the car now had new owners. As insubstantial as it seemed, and as short lived as the contact was, I truly felt like I had helped others. I had partaken in giving people food that would sustain them in more ways the one. Physically, the food gave them the nutrients their bodies need. Mentally, these clients knew that people were thinking of them. They had something to look forward to in their everyday lives. They weren’t alone. And all of this was accomplished by ringing a doorbell while bearing a bag of food.

Kevin Cresswell's Service-Learning Reflection, Kitchen Shift

After Saturday’s work, Charlie, Zach, and I met for a Tuesday night of preparing food at PAH. We then were told that our job would be preparing the turkey. At first, the idea didn’t seem too bad. However, I didn’t realize the job mainly involved ripping turkey’s completely apart and removing the meet from all its bones. It was one of the most interesting experiences with food I’ve ever had and doing it for three hours was a little rough. However, what I liked about preparing the food was seeing the different types of volunteers that were also working. We interacted with several people including an older man, older woman, and mid aged man. There was also a young mother who brought her two young children in to help, which was pretty entertaining. Even so, one person stood out more than the others. He seemed to be mid twenty’s, had tattoos and piercings, and wore his head phones the whole time. I don’t think he even said one word the three hours we were there. He didn’t seem like he wanted to be there at all, and before leaving I noticed his ankle bracelet, implying he was on house arrest and had to complete community service. This was both amusing and a reality check. Before going to Project Angel Heart, I assumed everyone would be there on their own accord. And while he may have been there under orders from a higher authority, he didn’t complain, but rather chose to work contently in silence. Altogether the group was pretty diverse and interesting to work with. Right before leaving one woman we conversed with became pleasantly surprised to hear that Zach, Charlie, and I were not convicted criminals sent there to do community service, but rather students, to which I got a good laugh. Hearing that made me question my own participation, did all these people just think that we were there to complete court ordered community service? Or is there even a negative stigma associated with the younger people who serve at Project Angel Heart? It seems like while the organization as a whole creates the sense of a community, some of the members may be looked down upon, regardless for their previous actions, but simply because the way they look. Although the fact that a sense of community is even generated through volunteering to serve others is something that makes me more inclined to do it again.

After my two experiences with PAH, I really appreciate the service it provides. Not only does it provide people with food, but also a sense of appreciation to those it serves. It was clear that many of the people we delivered to were anticipating our arrival and were clearly happy to see three young men delivering their food on a Saturday. Many of the residents were alone, and probably don’t get too many visitors, making our quick delivery to their house something they look forward to weekly. Also, the work place, where the food is prepared, feels more like a social event or a gathering of friends, with almost all of them doing it because they really enjoy it. This community that PAH developed is very diverse, but almost everyone is there for the same reason: to serve others in need while working with a group of fun, dedicated people. All in all I think PAH is a terrific service and the work we did was more enjoyable than I expected it to be. I hope that now after having a little experience we will be able to produce an effective and useful writing piece that they can actually use to inspire new volunteers.

Kevin Cresswell's Service Learning Reflection, Delivery Shift

We started by delivering food last Saturday throughout the East Denver area. My fellow group members Zach, Charlie, and I were not really sure what to expect walking in. After a brief run through of our tasks and signing a few waivers we were presented with a map, directions, and several bags of food. From there, we set out to make the deliveries. Most of the houses we visited were in areas of Denver that I’ve never seen before, and didn’t even know existed. They were run down, needed fresh paint, had poorly kept lawns and in the driveways sat old, beat up cars. It was clear a lot of the people were well below the middle class. To my surprise the types of people who answered the doors were from a bunch of different backgrounds. At some houses, once the doorbell was rung we heard something quickly racing to the door, and we’re greeted by young kids all happy and cheerful to see us. Some houses almost seemed abandoned and after waiting for a few minutes at the door, no one knew if anyone would come. Then, the door handle slowly turned and a man appeared beyond the screen. It was very obvious that maneuvering around his house was not easy for him and you could almost see proud in the way he greeted. When arriving at one of our last stops, the man who lived there was already on the porch waiting for us. He was very cheerful, asking us a few things about ourselves, and even asked that we take his old bags back to PAH to be used. The common trait all these people possessed was their cheerfulness. This came as a surprise to me given their current living conditions. Knowing that people who face life threatening illnesses everyday and who don’t receive much help from their community or government can still be cheerful and grateful towards us was inspiring. After seeing that, it will be hard to look at my life and find anything that I feel has been unjust and complain about it. Not only do these people battle disease every day, but they do it with a sense of pride and dignity that is truly moving.

After this past week working with Project Angel I feel greatly rewarded. The experiences we’ve had were not only fun, but they created a real sense of community within the organization. It might sound a little conceited, being that all we had to do was deliver bags and prepare food. However, while volunteering it was quite obvious of how important Project Angel Heart really is. The people it serves truly are in pain and need assistance anyway they can get it. It was also, interesting to participate in two different aspects of the organization.

Writing Workshop Reflection...

Having mine and Alex's PAH writing pieces workshopped in class really made a difference. Although we had ideas and tried to put them into writing, it was so helpful to hear the suggestions of our peers. We though relating to individuals our age would be simple and easy to do, however when we sat down to map out ideas, we were blank! The input of the class really made sense and gave us so many new ideas to relate to our peers. We have taken all of your suggestions into consideration and believe they are all great! Thanks for your input! We are hoping to work on our posts soon and would really appreciate it if all of you as a class participated in the PAH discussion board!