OUTLINE
Introduction
*Hook-
The things we hear matter. Maybe it’s to a favorite song, or to a lecture by a professor or an upcoming exam. It might even be the weather- Will it rain later today? Should I dress warm? Or oftentimes, it’s the news, which can be for better, or usually in my experience, for worse. We listen to all of these things because they matter. They matter to us because they inform our thoughts in one way or another. The same principle applies with listening to people.
Tie into the statement “I believe that listening is learning”
Body
Lead main statement into a story
One event from past, or maybe little moments
Conclusion
Give closing statement that ties into theme
DRAFT 1
What we choose to hear matters. Maybe it could be a favorite song, or trying to listen to a lecture from a professor. It might even be the weather- Will it rain later today? Should I dress warmer? Or oftentimes, it’s hearing the news, which can be for better, or usually in my experience, for worse. We choose to listen to all of these things because they matter to us. They matter because they inform our thoughts in one way or another. I believe that listening is learning, and that it applies with people too.
This world, I like to think, is a library full of stories; of people, places, and experiences that are waiting to be shared. But often, I am so caught up and focused with writing my own story, that I fail to look beyond. I forget that others have a story too. Growing up, it wasn’t far from exaggeration to say that my grandfather was my entire world. He wasn’t the type of grandfather to read you a story, instead, he would often take on the role as a listner. After school, I would get off the bus, and he would start, as always, by asking the question “how was your day?”, and I was more than happy to tell him. But now, I see that a straighforward question, like that, really has more to it. Talking, in many ways, is used as an expression of feelings. But I think that listening communicates more deeply. In a single moment, it takes the focus off a single page, and gives way to a whole new story. My grandfather was diagnosed with dementia when I was 12 years old, and with it, he lost most of his ability to talk. He had the words, but was unable to share his story. That’s when everything changed. I took on the role of listener.
DRAFT 2
What we choose to listen to matters. It could be a favorite song. Or, paying attention in class for an upcoming exam. For many people, it’s about the weather- Will it rain later today? Do I need to wear my jacket? A lot has to do with hearing the recent news, for better or most times, for worse. We choose to listen to all of these things because, for one reason or another, they are important to us. But I believe there’s a bit more to it than that. If eyes are the window to the soul, then I think ears can be a good indicator of the heart. I believe in listening as a way of love, and I believe in applying it with people too.
Growing up, it wasn’t far from exaggeration to say that my grandfather was my entire world. He wasn’t the type of grandfather who would read you a story; instead, he always took on the role of listener. After school, my sister and I would get off the bus at my grandparents’ house, and he would start, as he always did, by asking both of us how our days went. I was always more than happy to tell him about mine. But now, I can see that his question might have held more meaning behind it.
When I was 12 years old, my grandfather was diagnosed with dementia. He became forgetful, confused, but with it, there came something else too. We weren’t given a name for it then, but now, I know it is called aphasia- a condition that affects the brain’s process and production of speech. He had all the words, but when he tried to speak, they came out jumbled, mixed up like letters in an alphabet soup. In just a few years, his condition left him unable to communicate. On good days, I could make sense of a sentence or two. On the bad days, he became upset, agitated, frustrated, and it was clear to see why- He wasn’t being understood. That’s when everything switched, when I took on a new role: The role of listener. He would talk to me, in his way, with words that I could never fully make out, but I listened all the same. I listened because I wanted him to know that I cared. I wanted him to know that I loved him.
Listening isn’t just about hearing the words themselves. I think that the true value lies in seeing the person behind them. This world, I like to imagine, is a library full of stories; of people, places, and experiences that are waiting to be shared. But even thinking this, I can get so caught up with my life, so focused on writing my own story that I fail to look up from its pages; I can forget that others have a story too. But in listening, I stop to notice the people around me more. Through listening, I am able to connect, to learn, to grow, and, most importantly, I believe I am also able to love.
PEER REVIEW REFLECTION
I really enjoyed getting to listen to my peer’s TIB essays in class today. Each one had an interesting and unique theme that I never would have thought of, and overall, each left me with a new perspective. Afterwards, I only had a few suggestions to give, mostly just over fixing spelling and flow of the piece, and also trying to add in a few personlized touches to make sure their own voice came through. I was told that my essay was great, which I was super happy to hear, but I also think there could still be a little room for improvement. With Peer Review today in class, I felt a lot more confident in my This I Believe Essay. Getting a chance to read it aloud helped me figure out which words flowed naturally and others that could maybe be adjusted in my next drafting phase. But, in all, I think I am at a good point in my essay. The main adjustments that could be made between now and next class are for tweaking word choices and also, most importantly, finding a name for the title!
FINAL DRAFT
The Love of Listening:
What we choose to listen to matters. It could be a favorite song, or paying attention in class for an upcoming exam. For many people, it’s about the weather- Will it rain later today? Do I need to wear my jacket? A lot has to do with hearing the recent news, for better or most times, for worse. We choose to listen to all of these things because, for one reason or another, they are important to us. But I believe there’s a bit more to it than that. If eyes are the window to the soul, then I think ears can be a good indicator of the heart. I believe in listening as a way of love, and I believe in applying it with people too.
Growing up, it wasn’t far from exaggeration to say that my grandfather was my entire world. He wasn’t the type of grandfather who would read you a story; instead, he always took on the role of listener. After school, my sister and I would get off the bus at my grandparents’ house, and he would start, as he always did, by asking both of us how our days went. I was always more than happy to tell him about mine. But now, I can see that his question might have held more meaning behind it.
When I was 12 years old, my grandfather was diagnosed with dementia. He became forgetful, confused, but with it, there came something else too. We weren’t given a name for it then, but now, I know it is called aphasia- a condition that affects the brain’s process and production of speech. He had all the words, but when he tried to speak, they came out jumbled, mixed up like letters in an alphabet soup. In just a few years, his condition left him unable to communicate. On good days, I could make sense of a sentence or two. On the bad days, he became upset, agitated, frustrated, and it was clear to see why- He wasn’t being understood. That’s when everything switched, when I took on a new role: The role of listener. He would talk to me, in his way, with words that I could never fully make out, but I listened all the same. I listened because I wanted him to know that I cared. I wanted him to know that I loved him.
Listening isn’t just about hearing the words themselves. I think that the true value lies in seeing the person behind them. This world, I like to imagine, is a library full of stories; of people, places, and experiences that are waiting to be shared. But even thinking this, I can get so caught up with my life, so focused on writing my own story that I fail to look up from its pages; I can forget that others have a story too. But in listening, I stop to notice the people around me more. Through listening, I am able to connect, to learn, to grow, and, most importantly, I believe I am also able to love.
REFLECTION AS A WHOLE
Looking at my overall experience and all of the steps I took in order to get to the final version of my This I Believe Essay, I thought it was really interesting to see the progression of my ideas and, with that, the change in the flow of my piece. Through my outline and first draft, I had managed to narrow down the theme I wanted for the essay: the theme of listening to others as a way of love. But the biggest struggle I had that came as a surprise to me wasn’t in meeting the word count, which I thought I would struggle with, but instead, it mostly had to do with being able to incorporate my own voice into the piece. In the beginning stages of my essay, I think that I was easily able to state my belief, but I had trouble finding a single reason for why I believed in it. Then I realized, I didn’t have to limit my belief to a single moment; I remembered I could draw in from experiences too. Taking this new route, I began to think of different times in my life that impacted me. I thought of my grandfather and his battle with dementia, and with it, the series of emotions I felt during that time. I was able to connect the theme of listening to my story with him, from childhood, into my last years spent with him. Into my second and final draft, my theme had remained the same. But everything had changed. Now, my story and my belief were stated all with my own voice. When looking at the progression of my piece, from the first draft to the finished version, I realized that including personal perspective in my essay made a world of difference.
