By the end of the third term, I was filled with theoretical observations of Journalism, drilled to my head by the endless readings on the subject I had encountered this year. I thought I could not write stuff involving journalism on my terms, and I could no longer write in first person in my time at university. I thought that I was a robotic journalism student, drilled with theory and without a personality.
Upon realising that I was about to partake in a Blogging course for Journalism, I thought that I was going to finally step away from the theoretical teachings I had encountered through the year. I did not think that the course would go away from academic work, but the students would be blogging using further new stringent theories on the subject. As the term progressed, I was amazed at how all that I have learnt at Journalism this year, contributed immensely to the manner in which I wrote my blog posts. From the planning stages of each entry, I would think of which news values I was going to employ in my post, and what genre I was going to write on. I was enthused at witnessing the poignancy of my letter to my younger self, where I managed to balance raw emotion with the characteristics of the letter genre. The blogging course served as confirmation on how I had grasped the teachings in Journalism this year, and how I was able to adapt and interpret these teachings to my opiniative writing.
The experience of blogging for a full term made me quite productive. I tried to make time to add blog posts, but I did not make as many entries as I would have liked, due to the demands of my other subjects. This did not deter me from blogging, as even when I did not have anything to write, I would be streaming on other blogs, finding out what my Journalism classmates were writing about. I would also spend quite some time looking for ways to improve the quality of my group blog. These activities show how enthusiastic I have been about this course. The thrill of creating something meaningful,and of seeing the fruits created by myself, my blog group, and my other classmates elevated to a wider audience - a global internet community, got me very excited about this blogging course. As the term progressed, I saw the need to create my own personal blog. I saw that the main characteristics and intentions of my group blog were too narrow for the things I was thinking, and I needed my own blog to castrate all my thoughts, and to ensure that my blogging experience does not end this term.
The primary fixture of the Blogging course has been group work. I have noted the dissatisfaction of some students on the idea of group work, but I accepted this challenge, as it serves as training for our futures years at tertiary and in the working environment. Group work is a permanent practice in the workplace, as one will continuously be working with other people, and in the home environment, group work is an essential skill should one decide to venture into a long-term relationship, or start a family. With all the problems, delays and different opinions shown by my blog group during the course, and the patience and understanding we had to adopt, I can confirm in my humblest opinion that the Blogging course served as a means of personal growth for me, as I forced myself to maintain my patience and control my temperament during difficult times within my group. I have also come to value the practice of group work, as different opinions from different personalities, can turn to create a masterful piece of work, as was the case in the photo comic of my group. Despite their being many stressful encounters within the group, from a struggle to find a common agreement on certain aspects of the group, to the pressures of doing group assignments, I shall miss working with my group mates, as I came to appreciate the different sensibilities of each member of my group.
The question of whether blogging is journalism or not is one which has been placed before the JMS 1 students numerous times through the term, and I think that it does not warrant a debate. With the expansion of major newspapers to online technology, and various columnists expressing their journalistic work through blogs, I am under the impression that blogging is journalism. Sure, the largest share of bloggers are probably not journalists, and are just members of the public, who vary in their professions, but they all are reporting on issues which have struck them, which they feel could be relevant to other people. I interpret journalism as being just that, and the spread of such writing on the internet, not only reveals journalistic work to a wider audience, but also increases the number of those partaking in journalistic practice.
The culmination of researching items which may relate to my posts, finding sources, and putting a post together, has summed up the journalistic experience for me. Although I did not do too much research for the majority of my posts, I made sure that I had the correct sources as a point of reference to my blog posts. This enabled me not to break ethical grounds by plagiarising my work, and not to produce offensive blog post, which would incriminate people. I fostered much insight in this process of gathering information, and verifying it for my posts, and this contributed in my continued growth on this subject.
The JMS Blogging course was an appropriate way to end off my first year of doing journalism. I realised how I used all that I have learnt this year in producing dignified and presentable work on my blog With the great demands this course had, regarding submission deadlines and blog posting, and the joy of creating an online tool, visible to a wide audience, made this cause the most suitable teaching of surviving first year.
Mpondz
Friday, October 24, 2008
THE LAW OF ONE.... AND THE LAW OF MANY
We live our lives in accordance to some divine rule of law,abiding by those of the country and our own personal convictions.Sometimes we tend to want to do things that might be in contravention with one or the other. The rock or hard place. Striving for a safe alternative we choose that which is the most "normal" and societally acceptable. How do you decide to make a choice? Live by the law of the one or by the law of the many? How much of yourself do you sacrifice when making a hard decision? If there was a grey area between the rock and the hard place, where would you place yourself?
This was a blog i posted in my early beginings as a blogger on my blog verbal explosion, having written it initially just as to satisfy my longing to ask this question...... it rang true a couple of days ago, so I realised.... I have been in Grahamstown for close to a year now and in that time have lost and found myself more than once.... funny thing is, it happens more often now than it did before.
So i am what i am.... hoping to one day become......... and still to this day i eagerly await the day when i have found myself completely.
This was a blog i posted in my early beginings as a blogger on my blog verbal explosion, having written it initially just as to satisfy my longing to ask this question...... it rang true a couple of days ago, so I realised.... I have been in Grahamstown for close to a year now and in that time have lost and found myself more than once.... funny thing is, it happens more often now than it did before.
So i am what i am.... hoping to one day become......... and still to this day i eagerly await the day when i have found myself completely.
THE FIRST YEAR JOURN CLASS TUMBLE DRYER
And so the blogging began…….after a whole lot of other beginnings. I began my first year at Rhodes with acute knowledge about what journalism was all about, not only because all I knew was that I just wanted to write but also because the first year theme of surviving first year was very constricting in itself but also because of some of the challenges that came with the course.
And so I tried to navigate myself through the work, and as hard as I tried, it was hard sticking not only to deadlines but the big bad “genre characteristics” that like big bad monsters in a dark room kept constraining me from all angles. Granted that they existed and it took practice, news writing, vac-work, narrative and genre, narrative and genre and more narrative and genre.
And then the blog came, Dig My Rez it was. From working alone to working in a group with different people who had different ideas and different working techniques made life difficult. Until the day I almost lost my quota, adamant to fix it, and fix it I did. With my limited knowledge of the cyber sphere I managed to try and relate our blog character to our actual blog now that was hard work on its own. Trying to relate every piece of writing with it was even harder but alas a small and short lived victory it was.
“Make sure that the target audience is reached, make sure that the character of the blog is reflected, make sure that the polls are up to date and make sure you still post extra pieces of writing to the blog” said the voices in my head during the fourth term of working with narrative and genre and as the theme dragged on and became old so did the story ideas and trains of thought.
Was this even journalism? Confines and constraints in spaces filled with limitations of every kind, be it a word count, a written piece type or the infamous blog character. So many things to say, so little time in which to say them in and offcourse so many other factors to consider when writing about whatever it is I was writing about…… eternal frustration. Then the question arises, is journalism writing what you know how you know it or sticking to rules of writing what you know within the confines of not only the course but the different genre expectations.
Yes…. I have learnt and realised that writing is governed by rules, rules, and more rules and so I learnt to roll with the punches, kicking and screaming at every turn! “Help me, I am drowning” said the voice of helplessness in my head as the workload became too much to bear, the ideas slow in coming and the working slower. And so we tried as hard as we could to compromise, working in a group had its challenges, where going the extra mile was rare and to be avoided like the plague.
And so the struggle continued, as it were, trying to reflect on everything that is not right with the world and everything that was, trying to make sense of it all, Journalism and Media Studies it was. All this and more being done while “sticking to the game plan”.
And so I tried to navigate myself through the work, and as hard as I tried, it was hard sticking not only to deadlines but the big bad “genre characteristics” that like big bad monsters in a dark room kept constraining me from all angles. Granted that they existed and it took practice, news writing, vac-work, narrative and genre, narrative and genre and more narrative and genre.
And then the blog came, Dig My Rez it was. From working alone to working in a group with different people who had different ideas and different working techniques made life difficult. Until the day I almost lost my quota, adamant to fix it, and fix it I did. With my limited knowledge of the cyber sphere I managed to try and relate our blog character to our actual blog now that was hard work on its own. Trying to relate every piece of writing with it was even harder but alas a small and short lived victory it was.
“Make sure that the target audience is reached, make sure that the character of the blog is reflected, make sure that the polls are up to date and make sure you still post extra pieces of writing to the blog” said the voices in my head during the fourth term of working with narrative and genre and as the theme dragged on and became old so did the story ideas and trains of thought.
Was this even journalism? Confines and constraints in spaces filled with limitations of every kind, be it a word count, a written piece type or the infamous blog character. So many things to say, so little time in which to say them in and offcourse so many other factors to consider when writing about whatever it is I was writing about…… eternal frustration. Then the question arises, is journalism writing what you know how you know it or sticking to rules of writing what you know within the confines of not only the course but the different genre expectations.
Yes…. I have learnt and realised that writing is governed by rules, rules, and more rules and so I learnt to roll with the punches, kicking and screaming at every turn! “Help me, I am drowning” said the voice of helplessness in my head as the workload became too much to bear, the ideas slow in coming and the working slower. And so we tried as hard as we could to compromise, working in a group had its challenges, where going the extra mile was rare and to be avoided like the plague.
And so the struggle continued, as it were, trying to reflect on everything that is not right with the world and everything that was, trying to make sense of it all, Journalism and Media Studies it was. All this and more being done while “sticking to the game plan”.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Adding the missing pieces of the puzzle 1: The bedroom
I have detailed the rumbling, rampaging and probing occurences of the bathroom and common room at res, but have failed to touch on the steamy, yet freaky activities of the bedroom.
I spent the first night of my first term at university wide-eyed. Covered in my blanket whilst in bed, I was kept awake by the screatching sounds of a female student reaching an orgasm. I heard the voices of some perplexed first years laughing in the narrow passage in my res, mystified at the cries of this female. I shed laughter myself, as I was astounded at the naughty thoughts I was getting in my head, and I came to an emphatic realisation that I was far away from home.
Noises by female acquiantances of some of my res mates have not been a rarity at night. I have come to two conclusions to these imposing noises:
1. They are a reminder to some of us sex-starved students of what we are missing out on; or
2. They are a constant ring to the warnings our parents gave us regarding thaaat three letter word.
My bedroom at res is also my form of privacy, which I do not enjoy in the other areas at res. In my room, I can do things I would never do in public. I dance to songs which may not seem to be in my taste, I watch the occasional "chick-flick", which I attribute to me growing up with a cousin indulged in pop culture.
I spent the first night of my first term at university wide-eyed. Covered in my blanket whilst in bed, I was kept awake by the screatching sounds of a female student reaching an orgasm. I heard the voices of some perplexed first years laughing in the narrow passage in my res, mystified at the cries of this female. I shed laughter myself, as I was astounded at the naughty thoughts I was getting in my head, and I came to an emphatic realisation that I was far away from home.
Noises by female acquiantances of some of my res mates have not been a rarity at night. I have come to two conclusions to these imposing noises:
1. They are a reminder to some of us sex-starved students of what we are missing out on; or
2. They are a constant ring to the warnings our parents gave us regarding thaaat three letter word.
My bedroom at res is also my form of privacy, which I do not enjoy in the other areas at res. In my room, I can do things I would never do in public. I dance to songs which may not seem to be in my taste, I watch the occasional "chick-flick", which I attribute to me growing up with a cousin indulged in pop culture.
Falling off my seat in stitches
Exams are just two weeks away, and I have tried my best to relax my mind, and embrace the bouncy wall of studying. I have been sprung by an infectious emotion, one which is enriching, and has eased my mind towards the coming few weeks.
It is said that laughter heals stress, and I have come to find that out in a week in which I have been my most bubbly self. The thrill of laughter, which had been in short supply for me through this term with the storm of assignments which have come my way and other unfortunate occurences, has invigorated me, and emphatically reinstated the true essence of my character which is filled up with positivity.
Throughout the term I felt like a gnome. My smile was empty, as I was not really happy. I was stressing and felt little emotion and connectiveness to my surroundings. Slowly, as the term progressed, I felt I was going through a regressive phase. A phase similar to a butterfly going into a cacoon and becoming a moth again. In my case, my cacoon was my bed and work. I felt no joy in doing my work anymore, and for the first time, I questioned the sanity of me attending university.
I refer back to an earlier post, where I mentioned that res events tend to
"de-stress" me. This happened once again, as I maintain that the Adamson (yes, that's my res) Leaver's Dinner brought about a change in my mentality. For once, I forgot all about the books and had fun. I partied, and despite waking up heavy-headed, I felt joy once more. My happy mood prolonged for days, and eventually, I was happy again.
It would make me seem like a victim, to attribute my reinvigorance to that one night, but I wasn't, as I allowed my true character to resurface, and I welcomed it with an open heart.
Laughter has played a significant role in me remaining stress-free ever since. I located one of my favourite childhood satirical comedies, Mind Your Language, and watching it before my bedtime, has kept me in stiches. I also came across a most humourous episode which occured on national television, where a senior politician fell off a chair during a live interview. That has to rank among the funniest moments in the history of South Afican television. (Watch it please!)
I am happy, ambitious, determined, and willing once again, and I attribute all this to me enjoying life again, and ofcourse, the most fulfilling emotion of all, laughing!
Mpondz
It is said that laughter heals stress, and I have come to find that out in a week in which I have been my most bubbly self. The thrill of laughter, which had been in short supply for me through this term with the storm of assignments which have come my way and other unfortunate occurences, has invigorated me, and emphatically reinstated the true essence of my character which is filled up with positivity.
Throughout the term I felt like a gnome. My smile was empty, as I was not really happy. I was stressing and felt little emotion and connectiveness to my surroundings. Slowly, as the term progressed, I felt I was going through a regressive phase. A phase similar to a butterfly going into a cacoon and becoming a moth again. In my case, my cacoon was my bed and work. I felt no joy in doing my work anymore, and for the first time, I questioned the sanity of me attending university.
I refer back to an earlier post, where I mentioned that res events tend to
"de-stress" me. This happened once again, as I maintain that the Adamson (yes, that's my res) Leaver's Dinner brought about a change in my mentality. For once, I forgot all about the books and had fun. I partied, and despite waking up heavy-headed, I felt joy once more. My happy mood prolonged for days, and eventually, I was happy again.
It would make me seem like a victim, to attribute my reinvigorance to that one night, but I wasn't, as I allowed my true character to resurface, and I welcomed it with an open heart.
Laughter has played a significant role in me remaining stress-free ever since. I located one of my favourite childhood satirical comedies, Mind Your Language, and watching it before my bedtime, has kept me in stiches. I also came across a most humourous episode which occured on national television, where a senior politician fell off a chair during a live interview. That has to rank among the funniest moments in the history of South Afican television. (Watch it please!)
I am happy, ambitious, determined, and willing once again, and I attribute all this to me enjoying life again, and ofcourse, the most fulfilling emotion of all, laughing!
Mpondz
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Four continents in one digs !
Hey,
I cannot imagine what it must be liked to live with three other literally foreign students! I am the only girl living with eight other guys in my digs in Grahamstown, South Africa. It is rough at times – to say the least… and they are ALL South African even. At least we all share a similar culture. Although there is always culture within culture isn’t there? Peoples backgrounds are really vast in South Africa. I suppose that’s why we are called the “Rainbow Nation!”
I must admit that there are aspects of living amongst eight boys that I do enjoy. Not at all what you’re thinking!! Safety is an issue here in SA, so I do enjoy sleeping soundly at night knowing that one of the guys will take care of anything that might go wrong.
One solution to a problem I see you have with your people is to get a nanny in maybe once a week? We all chip in R10 on a Tuesday and Tracey comes in to mop floors, wash dishes, scrub the bathroom and generally pretty the place up a bit. As you can imagine, there are not too many feminine looking things around our digs! Our place looks like a golf course or recreational centre some days, other days likehttp://relm,evolution&ideocracy.blogspot.com/ a laundry mat and sometimes (most times), the place looks like a nightclub/rubbish dump!
How long have you been living in your digs for? This is my first year. I am studying Journalism and that is the reason that I did a search and came across your blog. You might want to check ours out. We are a group of four Journalism students at Rhodes University (http://www.ru.ac.za/). Check out our blog at http://digmyrez.blogspot.com/
Good Luck with exams if you are writing!
Cheers,
Michelle
I cannot imagine what it must be liked to live with three other literally foreign students! I am the only girl living with eight other guys in my digs in Grahamstown, South Africa. It is rough at times – to say the least… and they are ALL South African even. At least we all share a similar culture. Although there is always culture within culture isn’t there? Peoples backgrounds are really vast in South Africa. I suppose that’s why we are called the “Rainbow Nation!”
I must admit that there are aspects of living amongst eight boys that I do enjoy. Not at all what you’re thinking!! Safety is an issue here in SA, so I do enjoy sleeping soundly at night knowing that one of the guys will take care of anything that might go wrong.
One solution to a problem I see you have with your people is to get a nanny in maybe once a week? We all chip in R10 on a Tuesday and Tracey comes in to mop floors, wash dishes, scrub the bathroom and generally pretty the place up a bit. As you can imagine, there are not too many feminine looking things around our digs! Our place looks like a golf course or recreational centre some days, other days likehttp://relm,evolution&ideocracy.blogspot.com/ a laundry mat and sometimes (most times), the place looks like a nightclub/rubbish dump!
How long have you been living in your digs for? This is my first year. I am studying Journalism and that is the reason that I did a search and came across your blog. You might want to check ours out. We are a group of four Journalism students at Rhodes University (http://www.ru.ac.za/). Check out our blog at http://digmyrez.blogspot.com/
Good Luck with exams if you are writing!
Cheers,
Michelle
Dear: Your in irritation
Dear: Yours in irritation,
It seems as if you have not spoken to many – if any second, third, fourth, honors or master students in order to conclude your opinion piece. Two opinions from third years are that first year students are “immature” and “they spread (their legs).”Although these are harsh comments, insinuating that first years are irresponsible and promiscuous, these have been earned. Just as you claim that first years should not have to earn respect from more senior students, quite the contrary, they have earned these opinions, opinions that are self-inflicted and negative.
Have you considered that by being told that you are going to do badly academically if you continue to neglect your work, serves as a warning for you to get moving and actually put in the effort needed before it is too late? How can this be negative “psychology?” If someone warns you that you need to put in more effort or else you are not going to pass the year, you cannot then blame that person for speaking negativity over your life as a reason enough for your failure. Do you not think that this would simply be placing the blame on the advisor for your lack of self-discipline?
Good luck with exams!
http://jamminjacuzzi.blogspot.com
It seems as if you have not spoken to many – if any second, third, fourth, honors or master students in order to conclude your opinion piece. Two opinions from third years are that first year students are “immature” and “they spread (their legs).”Although these are harsh comments, insinuating that first years are irresponsible and promiscuous, these have been earned. Just as you claim that first years should not have to earn respect from more senior students, quite the contrary, they have earned these opinions, opinions that are self-inflicted and negative.
Have you considered that by being told that you are going to do badly academically if you continue to neglect your work, serves as a warning for you to get moving and actually put in the effort needed before it is too late? How can this be negative “psychology?” If someone warns you that you need to put in more effort or else you are not going to pass the year, you cannot then blame that person for speaking negativity over your life as a reason enough for your failure. Do you not think that this would simply be placing the blame on the advisor for your lack of self-discipline?
Good luck with exams!
http://jamminjacuzzi.blogspot.com
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