Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Obama: "The Little Engine Who Could"

We are all familiar with the children’s story, “The Little Engine Who Could.” This memorable little narrative embodies American ideals such as rewarding the good, caring for others, self-sacrifice, and the value of hard work. In the story, a train filled with toys for little children breaks down. Several other engines that are too busy or too self-important to help the toy train pass it by, and the stranded little toy train is discouraged by the other engines’ lack of compassion. Finally, one engine stops to help the toy train—for all intents and purposes, the engine is much too small to pull the train to its destination, but through determination and sheer will, it completes the task and delivers the rewards to the children.

Today, public education is a derailed train. No Child Left Behind failed to drive public education toward improvement, and is currently, a broken policy. Public education sits stalled, by the wayside, as the current administration moves forward in other directions. It seems that public education isn’t important enough to warrant the attention of policymakers.

Even on the campaign trail, many of the candidates gloss over the problems with public education. Alone it sits on the side of the tracks until a determined candidate like Barrack Obama comes along. The task of reforming public education is enormous, but Obama’s plans to take on the issue with determination, continued commitment, and sheer will. With innovative plans for reform and promises of increased federal funding (see this site for details http://obama.senate.gov/issues/education/index.html), Obama is the “Little Engine Who Could,” taking on the plight of the failing public school system—a sure reward for deserving American children. His "yes we can" attitude is entirely indicative of the American ideals embedded in this childrens story.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Slinging Some Mud on a Terrible Article

I’m a bit ashamed to say that I’m about to sling some mud—on a really terrible article about McCain. While researching for the previous blog entry (“The Candidates on Education: Toying with Our Emotions?”), I dug up an International Herald Tribune article about McCain’s family, written by someone named Jennifer Steinhauer. Please feel free to check it out: http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/12/27/america/27mccainkids.php.

As I read “The McCain family: Bridging 2 marriages and 4 decades, a large, close-knit brood,” I was completely baffled. I wondered, “Is this an anti-McCain piece? Or, more interestingly, is it a pro-McCain piece that went wrong?” I’m still unsure which it was intended to be, but one thing I am positive about is that it’s so terrible that it is a fascinating piece of rhetorical “craftsmanship” for analysis.

I’m going to make some lists to show why Ms. Steinhauer (whom we will heretofore refer to as Jen) confounded me:

Exhibit A: List of statements that seem “Pro-McCain”
1. But they [McCain’s 7 kids] are largely absent in a primary battle in which families — and all that their presence implies — are central ornaments.
2. Yet unlike the absent children of Rudolph Giuliani, who have strained relations with their father, the McCain children speak with endearment of McCain.
3. As they did in childhood, the McCain children still find one another by their father's side: in rafting boats, on hikes in the Grand Canyon, on mopeds in Bermuda and relaxing in Arizona.
4. For Doug, Andy and Sidney, McCain's oldest daughter, the earliest memories of McCain were his absence. The family lived on modest means in a Navy community in Florida while McCain languished in prison camps in Vietnam.
5. McCain was the sort of father who would not discuss his torture at the hands of Vietnamese captors, who kept his emotions close, and whose second-oldest son saw him emotional only once, when a pet dog died. He was not the father sitting in the front row at back-to-school night, lobbing questions about curriculum, or the presence at the end of the bed after a bad date. But each of his children described him still as the most fun guy in the room.

Exhibit B: List of statements that are Super Confusing and Make No Sense Either Way
1. They have maintained close relations with him in spite of long absences during childhood, a period of intense disappointment — among his older children when McCain remarried — and the breadth of geography and generations.
2. Asked during an interview this fall about his reluctance to bring attention to his expansive brood, the normally loquacious John McCain, who is unabashed on any number of topics, seemed uncomfortable. "It's intentional," he said. "I just feel it's inappropriate for us to mention our children. I don't want people to feel that, it's just, I'd like them to have their own lives. I wouldn't want to seem like I'm trying to gain some kind of advantage. I just feel that it's a private thing."
3. If you wanted face time with Dad, you approached him as he stood over a sizzling grill. ("You can have an audience with him because he doesn't want to leave the meat," Andy said.)
4. On his return, his children found a discipline-minded dad who expected the yard raked, was intolerant of back talk, maintained a constant presence at the Little League games, where the handsome former prisoner of war drew crowds of admirers, or at their beach house, crabbing at low tide. "Dad was the spotter," Andy recalled. "Just don't miss one. You miss a crab and he'd get angry. He was very competitive that way."
5. McCain's job as commanding officer of the Navy Replacement Air Group meant he was home for dinner each night, yet he struggled at times to find his domestic role.
6. When the family went to a wrestling match at the Naval Academy and a group of thuggish kids would not get out of their seats, McCain told them, "You need to get out of those seats or I'll get someone to get you out of them," Andy recalled. "He was just a tough guy. And I remember feeling proud of that.”

Exhibit C: List of statements that seem “Anti-McCain”
1. “But we didn't have a problem knowing who was in charge. If you wanted to deviate from expected policy and he said no, he never felt an obligation to give you a reason."
2. After years of waiting for their family to congeal, the children were devastated when McCain left their mother for another relationship. McCain soon began a new life with Cindy.
3. "It was very, very difficult," said Andy, who — like his siblings — did not attend the wedding, and only met the McCain's second wife years later, in his father's Senate office.
4. The second family, children of privilege who grew up in the quickly developing Southwest, experienced an altogether different paternal presence, the senator-father who arrived on Friday nights from Washington, often to pass the weekends in the family country hideaway, but who was absent from the both the mundane and profound routines of growing up.
5. His relationship with Sidney, 41, is perhaps the most politically interesting. Sidney, a registered Democrat, has worked in the music business for years, and was the child who challenged McCain's authority the most. She continues to debate him on a wide variety of issues.
6. The second chapter of McCain's parenting life found him an established politician who spent most of his time in Washington, leaving his wife and small children for most of the week.

So…it's official: I'm still confused about Jen's point. Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Jen intended to write a pro-McCain story—one about how the former POW has managed to “bridge” two families in order to raise his seven children. If that were the case, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that the multiple references to McCain being an absent father figure are probably not the best idea. I’d also steer clear of the quotes about the devastation that McCain caused his oldest children when he left their mother for Cindy. And—at least while he’s campaigning for President as a REPUBLICAN—I might leave out the fact that his daughter is a Democrat.

Sigh. Now, if, on the other hand, Jen’s intention was to write an expose about the familial failings of McCain, I would urge her to leave out the cuddly details about Meghan helping her dad to pick out “swank Timberlands” and the multi-family rafting vacations. And, for pete’s sake, what’s up with the slam on the other candidates for whom their “families — and all that their presence implies — are central ornaments?”

As you can see, this is—at best—a conflicted piece of writing. (Sorry, Jen!) We can only hope that Jen was in the process of “opinioning,” a term coined by Neil Postman, meaning that the constant influx of information (in this case, from many of McCain’s offspring) was continually shaping and reshaping her thoughts about McCain. Hmm. Well, I’m going to let Jen off the hook with the ol’ “opinioning” defense, because otherwise, I’d be right—that this is a really terrible article.

Note: On the up side, if anyone’s looking for a job as an editor, I think we know which publication surely needs one. Not mentioning any names...

The Candidates on Education: Toying with Our Emotions?

There is one topic in this presidential election about which everyone has some expertise: education. All of us have had some experience in a school system—some of us have had quite a lot. The topic of education is also one in which the majority of us have a vested interest, since our children will require education.

Due to the personal nature of our experience with education and the fact that it involves those closest to us—our families, our siblings, our children—it is impossible to separate emotion from the topic of education.

The candidates surely take advantage of our emotional ties to the topic of education in their attempts to convince us of their commitment to various educational ideals. As Westen explains, subconsciously, we make our most important decisions on the emotional level. So, while we might try to focus on the candidates’ logical plan for the future of American education, ultimately the candidates’ emotional framing is what will make our decision.

How have our candidates been manipulating our emotions? Well, with a potent combination of ethos (credibility) and pathos (blatant emotional appeals). That’s how.

Hillary has got some ethos mojo. She’s really working the fact that she is a mother. In addition to being a mom, she’s also written a book called, It Takes a Village, on the topic of education. Did I mention that she’s a mother? That truly gives her instant credibility on the topic of children and education. As far as pathos, the lady wore a potato necklace made by preschoolers at one of her speeches. She began to talk directly with the crowd, saying, “This is a gift, my beautiful, beautiful necklace from two of the pre-k students, Sofia and Savannah and it matches my jacket so I had to wear it and it has my initials, so I'm feeling very dressed up today.” Need I say more about Hillary’s pathos?

As a father, Obama scores some ethos points, too. Not to mention that he’s “had a lot of discussions with teachers”…
(quote from http://www.ontheissues.org/Social/Barack_Obama_Education.htm) Okay, that was way harsh, but it illustrates my point that Obama lacks some of the ethos “credentials” packed by Hillary; but, Obama more than makes up for his ethos deficit through his effective use of pathos. This man is a wonderful orator: he manages to get close to just about every audience and he is exciting and inspirational. He achieves these things through management of pathos. In a talk to the National Educators Association (NEA), Obama uses a small story to create an effective emotional climate. He talks about how a young teacher in Chicago is tired of everyone telling her why “those kids” can’t learn. She is dedicated to teaching “our kids,” and that dedication is what fuels her to keep teaching although she isn’t getting the “support, pay, or respect she deserves.” Surely, after this story, emotions amongst the NEA members were running high.

Then, there’s McCain. Does anyone know about McCain’s family? Not so much, because McCain says, "I just feel it's inappropriate for us to mention our children. I don't want people to feel that, it's just, I'd like them to have their own lives. I wouldn't want to seem like I'm trying to gain some kind of advantage. I just feel that it's a private thing." Is this some kind of a trick? I’m not sure whether, by keeping his family hidden, McCain is the ultimate father (and therefore ethos packed), or just trying to hide the fact that he’s been married twice from conservatives, or if he’s spoiling all his credibility? (And believe me—he has a lot!) McCain seems to break the “emotional genius” mold established by the Republicans…

Anyway, McCain has by far the most parenthood-garnered ethos of the candidates, with a whopping seven children (some biological, some adopted). In addition, his wife—not sure first or second—is a special education teacher. McCain’s children, in a recent article, (http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/12/27/america/27mccainkids.php?page=2) said of growing up with their father that “if you make good grades and play sports and were willing to follow a few basic rules you can pretty much do what you want." This quote is relevant, since it seems to mirror his emotions about education now: he’s not an expert, and he’s not uptight about it, but he is a little bit cocky—choice and competition will make the difference in reforming American education, choice and competition. This laid-back tough guy personna (in a more positive sense: McCain’s quiet confidence) seems to be McCain’s approach to pathos.

Effective or not…and whether we know it or not…each of the candidates is toying with our emotions (about education). The reason that they’re so focused on pathos for this issue: because education is an issue that—from the American electorate’s point of view—is more emotional than rational.

Friday, April 4, 2008

Barrack's "Shout-Out" to Patriotic Librarians

Obama's speech called, “Literacy and Education in a 21st Century Economy,” was given to the American Library Association (ALA)—a crowd of librarians—and I’m especially curious about what emotional appeals that Obama utilized, since the words “emotional” and “librarian” aren’t generally used in the same sentence.

I’m sure Obama (and/or his speech writers) were thinking, what makes librarians tick? Well, uh, books, libraries, reading. What is valuable to librarians? Giving people (oftentimes children) access to books. What would really tick off a librarian? Not being allowed to put valuable books into the hands of library patrons; illiteracy. Clearly, based on the speech that Obama delivered, all of these contextual ideas have been utilized in order to create the appropriate emotional climate for Barrack to impart his ideas.

First of all, Obama demonstrates the many connections that he has to librarians; he’s proving just how close he is to the audience, how much the same they are. Obama gives “shout-outs” (yes, he really said that) to ALA member, Nancy Gibbs, the mother of his communications director, Robert Gibbs. He also, touchingly, addresses the librarians from his Punahou School in Hawaii: Molly Lyman, Joan Kaaua, and Lillian Hiratani. These personal references, each one named, give Obama a lot of situational credibility: he’s enhanced his ethos with the crowd by proving how many librarians he is personally close with.

After establishing some ethos, and getting the crowd on his side—or at least closer to his side, Obama begins to lighten the mood. As I mentioned before, librarians aren’t generally considered to be the most emotional of creatures, so he needs to tap into this preconception. He makes a joke about his communications director: “Believe me, I have no idea how the biggest mouth in our office came from a family of librarians…” Now, these librarians feel close to Obama (ethos), they have just shared a little laugh (pathos), and now Obama leads them further into his speech (which is still laced with pathos).

Obama’s style gets rather formal and “high” as he describes how libraries are “more than a building that houses books and data, the library has always been a window to the larger world—a place where we’ve always come to discover big ideas and profound concepts that help move the American story forward…[and] at a time where truth and science are constantly being challenged by political agendas and ideologies…the moment we persuade a child, any child, to cross that threshold into a library we’ve changed their lives forever, and for the better.” Wow: this passage is both logical and emotionally charged. It’s got the librarians feeling a mixture of pride and a little bit of frustration about the government.

With his audience feeling the effects of this powerful mixture of emotions, Obama continues, “So I'm here to gratefully acknowledge the importance of libraries and the work you do. I also want to work with you to insure that libraries continue to be sanctuaries for learning, where we are free to read and consider what we please, without the fear of Big Brother peering menacingly over our shoulders.” Oh, snap! Let’s recap: I want to work with you. Where we are free to read. Big Brother peering menacingly over our shoulders. Apparently, now Barrack and the librarians are BFFs united against overbearing government control.

Barrack applauds librarians (using war imagery) for being “the ones who've been on the frontlines of this fight for privacy and freedom…ever since we've had to worry about our own government looking over our shoulders in the library, you've been there to stand up and speak out on privacy issues. You're full-time defenders of the most fundamental American liberties, and for that, you deserve America's deepest gratitude.” Obama continues to speak to his audience: about the issues they care about—and in a way that is very complimentary to them. I think that Obama’s subtle use of the language of war is really effective; it creates a (probably subconscious) mental bridge between the Iraq war and being patriotic in that sense and opposition to a “Patriot Act” that disregards civil liberties. One can be a patriot in either sense.

This analysis covers just the opening of the speech. Barrack is really opening up his rhetorical toolbox to make certain that he’s using all of the available means of persuasion and working the pathos of this audience most effectively. He wants them to be primed for the rest of the speech, which I will examine in the next blog.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

I Believe I Remain Unconvinced: McCain's Dirty Little "C-Words"

Needless to say, I went Republican when seeking out examples of repetition in campaign rhetoric. I listened to and read several of John McCain’s speeches on education, where two words stand out: choice and competition.

The “c-words,” as one of the conservative sites affectionately refers to them, are strategically (and not sparingly) sprinkled throughout any of McCain’s (self-proclaimed) “sweeping” dialogues about education. As I’d mentioned in an earlier blog, McCain uses smokescreen techniques—like generalizations, vague language, and repetition—to distract his audience from the fact that he’s thought little about the issue of education as it’s not one of his priorities.

Repetition is certainly effective filler in an otherwise empty conversation. One of McCain’s most repetitive—and least informative—speeches is one that I will call, “I Believe,” as McCain begins every statement in this three minute speech with those very words. This use of anaphora seems to be linked to McCain’s hope that the American electorate will make the subconscious connection that he believes in America, he believes in education—and not make the rational connection that the goal of his rhetorical strategy is to deflect attention away from his lack of any concrete information.

So, it’s I believe, I believe, I believe…then, McCain simply inserts and repeats his buzzwords: choice, competition, and reward. These buzzwords have become synonymous for McCain’s “stance” (if you can justify calling it that) on education. Surely these words are products of the Republican “think tank”—they’ve been proven to be almost unanimously acceptable; after all, what red-blooded ‘Merican dislikes choice and a little healthy competition? McCain believes that more choice, and therefore “more competition in education can only lead to higher quality, lower costs.”

Does this not smack of the corporate world? It seems that McCain has taken a page from the Bush playbook: to run this country like a CEO runs a company. Confirming my suspicions, McCain comes right out and admits that his goal for education is to keep up with “global competition”—to continue to maintain our lead on the world in IT innovations, to continue to supplement the workforce. Aha! There’s McCain’s real stance. There’s where his bread is buttered. There’s where—just kidding.

The bottom line: I do not believe McCain. Do you?

Thursday, March 6, 2008

“It Takes a Village:” Hillary Clinton on Revising No Child Left Behind and Promoting

In her speech, “PARENTS AND CHILDREN: Expanding Pre-K,” given on May 21, 2007, to a crowd of educators, parents, and school children in North Beach, Miami, Hillary Clinton quoted the Head of the Children Defense Fund, Marian Wright Edelman, who once said "if we don't stand for children, we don't stand for much." Talk about preaching to the choir; I’m sure that everyone in the crowd got choked up and the climactic scene from Jerry McGuire began playing in their heads: “You had me from hello. (Sobbing.) You had me from hello.”

Throughout the speech, she continued to posture herself right into alignment with the crowd, saying, “Some people, when I talk about the need to really help prepare children, they sort of say, well that's a nice thing to be for, but kind of soft, I mean it's not really that important, is it? But we know that it is.” Darn straight teachers and kids think that preparing children is important. But she pressed on, laying it on thick!

She began to talk directly with the crowd, saying, “This is a gift, my beautiful, beautiful necklace from two of the pre-k students, Sofia and Savannah and it matches my jacket so I had to wear it and it has my initials, so I'm feeling very dressed up today.” And who do you think little Sofia’s and little Savannah’s parents are going to vote for? That’s right—the lady wearing the potato necklace that their darling daughters made! You go, Hillary.

Forging on, with a strong appeal to ethos, Hillary reads from her resume: “For thirty-five years as a lawyer and an advocate, as a friend lady and a Senator and most importantly as a Mom, I have been strongly in support of providing the tools to parents that would give parents an opportunity to recognize that they are their child's first teachers and that the family is their child's first school; because we have to have a strong partnership between our families and our schools and our society on behalf of our children. I've seen what happens when caring adults come together and make a commitment to insure that each child has a chance to fulfill his or her god-given potential.” In one fell swoop, Hillary establishes her credibility, making sure that we remember that she’s a lawyer, a politician, a Christian, a mother—and that, in her role as a parent, she’s equal with the other “caring adults” in the group.

She cements her role as a compatriot with her audience by doing some parent-talk: “We all know about the 'terrible twos' and we know about the sometimes rebellious fours.” Yes, we do! At this point, we are sure that we are having a real conversation with Hillary, parent to parent. And now that she’s created this happy emotional climate of comraderie and conversation, she gets to the meat of her speech: that No Child Left Behind requires serious revision and that Universal Pre-K needs to be instituted. She expresses her main points in a very conversational tone (so as to not break the pathos that she’s worked so hard to create): “There's a lot of things we need to do to reform and change No Child Left Behind, which is an unfunded mandate on our school.” And later: “The cost of childcare, even if the childcare is frankly not that good, is pretty high these days, isn't it? And think about the savings that families could have if pre-kindergarten was accessible as public kindergarten is.”

So, parent to parent, Hillary’s explaining her stance on public education in a way that few could argue with—especially in a crowd of educators, parents, and students. I love what she says here (note how it relates to my first blog): “We can talk all we want about how public schools are great equalizers and engines of our meritocracy in America,” but as long as we continue down the path we’re going, it’s complete crap. (Loose translation--she didn’t say crap.)

Now, clearly, Hillary’s on a role. She really wants to make certain that she highlights her special interest in Pre-K and Head Start. She breaks out the big guns with a small story (a la her husband, Bill Clinton): “My daughter didn't need it. We sent her to pre-school. We had her in pre-school program because we knew it would be good for her, to have the interaction with other children, to be with other adults besides her father and me. And we had some great experiences from that. We also ran into some challenges. There is a period of time when my daughter would only eat green grapes and Jelly sandwiches. And she took a bunch of green grapes and Jelly sandwiches to pre-school every day to eat during her break. And the state was monitoring the pre-school program and they had a supervisor from the state seeing how the children were treated and at the end of the week, the supervisor said to the head teacher 'I think the program is very good but there is this one child who is really going to be poorly served. She may end up being mal-nourished because everyday she brings the same thing for lunch.' So the head teacher said, well yeah I know, that is the Governor's daughter [laughter] and that is what she is eating this week. Obviously, I thought it was worth doing it for my own child, and I think it is worth doing it for every child.” How democratic is that? The Governor’s daughter goes to the same public pre-school as (theoretically) the garbage collector’s son. Hillary also introduces a lot of “it takes a village” imagery with this small story: Little Chelsea was nurtured by her parents (who cared enough to send her to pre-school), by her teachers, and even by the state supervisor. Everyone comes together to make sure that every child has the best start.

Now that everyone’s completely blissed out, Hillary closes with this statement: “If we think about our responsibility for all our children, we will start making investments that will not only help our children but I believe really help us.” Really smart move: she uses the buzz words responsibility and investments, and she continues to use we and our. Hillary used a lot of strong rhetorical strategies to promote herself and her cause to this audience. She used her role as a mother to create an intimacy that enhanced the pathos of the speech. She reused her role as a mother (in combination with her impressive professional resume) to create ethos. And she used all of these strategies simultaneously to create a logical argument that is punctuated with a really strong short story.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

McCain: Generally Unconvincing

According to one of his spokespeople, “Senator McCain generally supports No Child Left Behind.” Generally supports?! Okay, whatever. So, McCain supports (generally) No Child Left Behind (NCLB)—but his spokespeople have also been quoted as saying McCain knows we can save public education if we “have the courage to do more than placate the defenders of the status quo.” Other comments from the McCain camp are equally vague—and often contradictory—and lead to my belief that, generally, McCain cares more about losing the support of the Republican base than he does about overhauling the crises that face American schools as a result of NCLB.

Another wavering example: McCain has commented, “We [and I’m assuming that he’s referring to the federal government] must continue to set standards and hold schools accountable for their performance…We should never shrink from the truth or seek to soften accountability where schools are failing in their most basic responsibility…they have failed students, parents and communities.” McCain has also commented, “I do not favor nationally imposed standards or federal funding strings. State and local education agencies should be responsible for developing & enforcing high academic standards. I don’t believe we should penalize students by taking away limited education dollars according to federal dictates.”

So, clearly, McCain has got no clear stance on education—and, honestly, since education is not a key issue for Republican candidates, it seems as though no one really expects him to. In order to placate the small percentage of the voting population which has a strong interest in education and educational reform, he’s got a couple of vague responses that he figures will suit either crowd; these comments abound with loaded words like standards, truth, accountability, failure, and responsibility. McCain hopes/supposes that his audience will be so taken with these words that they will not really take notice to the fact that he never makes a definitive statement.

This language provides an effective smokescreen—deferring listeners away from the hard facts, distracting them with idealistic, dramatic, patriotic language. The words chosen by McCain misdirect the listener, away from the subject at hand—the failures of No Child Left Behind—and refocus on the general notion of accountability; and, while it sounds nice and idealistic, accountability can be translated, in reference to NCLB, to blame-shifting.

For an observant listener to McCain’s comments on education, the reasons for worry are many, and the scariest one may be: Why has McCain busted out the smokescreen? Is he keeping his real agenda hidden until he officially gets the Republican nomination? Because this would be far preferable to the unsettling thoughts that it’s hidden because a) McCain actually thinks that No Child Left Behind is a good start or b) that he has no ideas for, interest in, or plans about improving the educational system. I find McCain’s use of smokescreen unbecoming and, generally, unconvincing.