11.7.10

-- W 13 -- Unit IV Physical Sciences Focus

Unit 4 Cosmos Physical Sciences

-- W 11 -- Writing for Business - Economics - Web

C27 Writing and Designing in the Web Business, Economics America at Work APA Format, C34 Abstracts/summaries(538,540,550) Research C29-32,

-- W 10 -- Unit 3 Social Sciences Focus

-- W 10  --  Unit 3 Social Sciences Focus  
TCW, C26, Writing for the Workplace

-- W 09 -- Presentations

-- W 09 -- Presentations

-- W 07 -- Academic Essays

-- W 07 -- 
TCW, C25, Academic Essays 
Unit 2 Paper Due

Welcome

Welcome to this blog at http://wcombfs.blogspot.com

11.4.10

-- W 14 -- Unit IV Paper Due

-- W 14.1 -- Unit III Persuasive Paper Due

Nature/ Ecology Microcosmos Field Report (TCW, 341), research paper (TCW, 423) 
Review; Presentations Conclusion 

-- W 15 -- Final

Final

30.3.10

Browning -- My Last Duchess Video




That's my last duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said 
"Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
That depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain drawn for you, but I)
 [10]
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too much" or "Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat:" such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough 
[20]
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart - how shall I say? - too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed: she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 't was all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace -all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
 [30]
Or blush,at least. She thanked men - good! but thanked
Somehow - I know not how - as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech - (which I have not) - to make your will
Quite clear to such a one, and say, "Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss
Or there exceed the mark"- and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set 
[40]
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse
- E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will 't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretence 
[50]
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me.

22.3.10

“Two Views of the River” by Mark Twain -- Comparison and Contrast

“Two Views of the River” by Mark Twain

Now when I had mastered the language of this water and had come to know every trifling feature that bordered the great river as familiarly as I knew the letters of the alphabet, I had made a valuable acquisition. But I had lost something, too. I had lost something which could never be restored to me while I lived. All the grace, the beauty, the poetry had gone out of the majestic river! I still keep in mind a certain wonderful sunset which I witnessed when steamboating was new to me. A broad expanse of the river was turned to blood; in the middle distance the red hue brightened into gold, through which a solitary log came floating, black and conspicuous; in one place a long, slanting mark lay sparkling upon the water; in another the surface was broken by boiling, tumbling rings, that were as many-tinted as an opal; where the ruddy flush was faintest, was a smooth spot that was covered with graceful circles and radiating lines, ever so delicately traced; the shore on our left was densely wooded, and the sombre shadow that fell from this forest was broken in one place by a long, ruffled trail that shone like silver; and high above the forest wall a clean-stemmed dead tree waved a single leafy bough that glowed like a flame in the unobstructed splendor that was flowing from the sun. There were graceful curves, reflected images, woody heights, soft distances; and over the whole scene, far and near, the dissolving lights drifted steadily, enriching it, every passing moment, with new marvels of coloring.

I stood like one bewitched. I drank it in, in a speechless rapture. The world was new to me, and I had never seen anything like this at home. But as I have said, a day came when I began to cease from noting the glories and the charms which the moon and the sun and the twilight wrought upon the river's face; another day came when I ceased altogether to note them. Then, if that sunset scene had been repeated, I should have looked upon it without rapture, and should have commented upon it, inwardly, after this fashion: This sun means that we are going to have wind to-morrow; that floating log means that the river is rising, small thanks to it; that slanting mark on the water refers to a bluff reef which is going to kill somebody's steamboat one of these nights, if it keeps on stretching out like that; those tumbling ``boils'' show a dissolving bar and a changing channel there; the lines and circles in the slick water over yonder are a warning that that troublesome place is shoaling up dangerously; that silver streak in the shadow of the forest is the ``break'' from a new snag, and he has located himself in the very best place he could have found to fish for steamboats; that tall dead tree, with a single living branch, is not going to last long, and then how is a body ever going to get through this blind place at night without the friendly old landmark?

No, the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness it could furnish toward compassing the safe piloting of a steamboat. Since those days, I have pitied doctors from my heart. What does the lovely flush in a beauty's cheek mean to a doctor but a ``break'' that ripples above some deadly disease? Are not all her visible charms sown thick with what are to him the signs and symbols of hidden decay? Does he ever see her beauty at all, or doesn't he simply view her professionally, and comment upon her unwholesome condition all to himself? And doesn't he sometimes wonder whether he has gained most or lost most by learning his trade?


- Life on the Mississippi

1.3.10

General Resources

General Resources

Use these general resource documents and activities to help increase your success in this course. Some content requires software plugins. Visit our Plugin Help Centerfor help with downloading plugins.


Bullet imageHM Newsnow Logo
For Layout
View current news videos that relate to your course work and your life.

Bullet imageThe College Writer Online Readings
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The College Writer Online Readings are a collection of readings that provide professional examples of narrative and descriptive writing; analytical writing; persuasive writing; and letters, reports, and reviews. (NOTE: New users must have a passkey to view this feature.)

Bullet imageAssociated Press Interactives
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The Associated Press Interactives are a collection of multimedia news reports designed to develop visual literacy and critical thinking skills. Each interactive report includes a context-building introduction and follow-up questions. (NOTE: New users must have a passkey to view this feature.)

Bullet imageStudent Writing
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Click for more models of student essays.

Bullet imageJournal Activities
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Try out these interactive journal activities for writing practice.

Bullet imageInternet Research Guide
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Use this guide for tips, practice exercises, and advice in your online research.

Bullet imagePlagiarism Prevention Zone
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Confused about what constitutes copying? Click here for tutorials on avoiding plagiarism and other tools.

Bullet imagePublishing Your Work
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Look here for venues that accept student papers, advice on submitting your work.

Bullet image100 Words to Know
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Increase your vocabulary using these flashcards derived from The American Heritage College Dictionary list of the top 100 words you should know.

Visual Activities

Visual Activities

Introduction: Becoming Visually Literate

We live in an information age, much of which is received visually. From the headlines, weather, and stock quotes that trail across our television screens to the web sites through which we search the Internet, we have a constant stream of incoming images. Some of these images loop endlessly, such as the image of a plane crashing into the World Trade Center, omnipresent in the back of our minds like ghostly shadows. Many of us stare at computer screens all day long, breaking up our view of corporate spreadsheets with quick clicks to view our favorite web sites. Glossy advertising images pervade print, television, and the Web. Posters in stores, direct mail in our mailboxes, and photographs in newspapers and magazines are part of our daily visual environment. Logos have even become so important that two Houston artists made a career for a year out of wearing suits emblazoned with corporate logos and parading their attire in urban locations. Movies suffuse our lives 24/7, both on our home sets and through video rentals. Digital photography is so easy that even children are able to upload images to the Web. In addition to this daily barrage, artists heighten our awareness of this visual environment through their own interpretation of it.

Learning about seeing, or how images are composed or designed, is now an important part of learning to write. Just as writers plan word by word how each sentence is shaped, and paragraph by paragraph how the whole essay is constructed, artists and designers compose. Advertisers decide if there should be a story implied by their ad. Web designers decide which colors to use, and how much white space, and how easy the navigation menu is for the user. Photographers decide how to compose what they see and what should be included and what left out of an image.

"Seeing" is different than just "looking." "Seeing" includes both "looking," that is simple observation of what is in front of you, andinterpreting, that is developing and then answering questions that lead to a possible explanation of the meaning of what you looked at. Seeing always start with careful observation, a skill you can actually practice. By developing this skill, you will also develop questions about what you observe. From these questions emerges your own interpretation of the meaning or significance of what you observe. Writing provides the opportunity to explore your interpretation.

Norman MacLean once described how we learn to think in a series of steps that are the same as how we learn to "see":
All there is to thinking is seeing something noticeable, which makes you see something you weren't noticing, which makes you see something that isn't visible. A River Runs Through It
Learning to write is about learning to think, just as learning to "see" our visual environment is also about learning to think critically, or interpret it. Being visually literate is as empowering as being verbally literate. You control your experience when you choose to think about what you have observed. Your visualexperience becomes a rich opportunity to make meaning, to swim in the lively waters of experience rather than to swept away by them.

Art Activities

Art Activity #1: Is the Web Merely an Oversized Mall?
Art Activity #2: The Spectacle of War
Art Activity #3: Man Today; Boy Tomorrow? Standing on The Edge
Art Activity #4: American Icons at Home and Abroad
Art Activity #5: Web 101? What You See and What You Say
Art Activity #6: Of Mice and Cats, and the Nazis

23.2.10

Links

Part 1 - Web Links


Improve Your Grade

Work with these documents and activities to master chapter learning objectives. Some content requires software plugins. Visit our Plugin Help Center for help with downloading plugins.


Bullet imageStep-by-Step Writing Assignments
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Several mini-assignments will walk you through the writing process

Bullet imageVisual Activities
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Reinforce your critical viewing skills with visual activities.

Bullet imageGame
For Layout
This game is a fun way to help you learn how to revise an essay into a unified and coherently organized whole.

Bullet imageAnnotated Readings
For Layout
These pop-up annotations demonstrate how essays can be read critically.


Daily Writing Tips -- Writing Basics

16.2.10

Spell-Checkers

The Trouble with Spell-Checkers

Pome

1
I have a spelling checker -
It came with my PC.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.

2
Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh,
My checker tolled me sew.

3
A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when aye rime.

4
To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should be proud.
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaws are knot aloud.

5
And now bee cause my spelling
Is checked with such grate flare,
Their are know faults with in my cite,
Of nun eye am a wear.

6
Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed to bee a joule
The checker poured o'er every word
To cheque sum spelling rule.

7
That's why aye brake in two averse
By righting wants too pleas.
Sow now ewe sea why aye dew prays
Such soft wear for pea seas!

9.2.10

Northing -- Annie Dillard


Narration and Description
The following passage is from “Northing,” a chapter in Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim
at Tinker Creek. In it, the author vividly describes monarch butterflies and their
migration.

Northing
A few days later the monarchs hit. I saw one, and then another, and
then others all day long, before I consciously understood that I was
witnessing a migration, and it wasn’t until another two weeks had passed
that I realized the enormity of what I had seen.
Each of these butterflies, the fruit of two or three broods of this
summer, had hatched successfully from one of those emerald cases that
Teale’s caterpillar had been about to form when the parasitic larvae snapped
it limp, eating their way out of its side. They had hatched, many of them,
just before a thunderstorm, when winds lifted the silver leaves of trees and
birds sought the shelter of shrubbery, uttering cries. They were butterflies,
going south to the Gulf states or farther, and some of them had come from
Hudson’s Bay.
Monarchs were everywhere. They skittered and bobbed, rested in the
air, lolled on the dust—but with none of their usual insouciance. They had
but one unwearying thought: South. I watched from my study window:
three, four . . . eighteen, nineteen, one every few seconds, and some in
tandem. They came fanning straight toward my window from the
northwest, and from the northeast, materializing from behind the tips of
high hemlocks, where Polaris hangs by night. They appeared as Indian
horsemen appear in movies: first dotted, then massed, silent, at the rim
of a hill.
Each monarch butterfly had a brittle black body and deep orange wings
limned and looped in black bands. A monarch at rest looks like a fleck of
tiger, stilled and wide-eyed. A monarch in flight looks like an autumn leaf
with a will, vitalized and cast upon the air from which it seems to suck some
thin sugar of energy, some leaf-life or sap. As each one climbed up the air
outside my window, I could see the more delicate, ventral surfaces of its
wings, and I had a sense of bunched legs and straining thorax, but I could
never focus well into the flapping and jerking before it vaulted up past the
window and out of sight over my head.
I walked out and saw a monarch do a wonderful thing: it climbed a hill
without twitching a muscle. I was standing at the bridge over Tinker Creek,
at the southern foot of a very steep hill. The monarch beat its way beside
me over the bridge at eye level, and then, flailing its wings exhaustedly,
ascended straight up in the air. It rose vertically to the enormous height of
a bankside sycamore’s crown. Then, fixing its wings at a precise angle, it

glided up the steep road, losing altitude extremely slowly, climbing by
checking its fall, until it came to rest at a puddle in front of the house at the
top of the hill.
I followed. It panted, skirmished briefly westward, and then, returning
to the puddle, began its assault on the house. It struggled almost straight up
the air next to the two-story brick wall, and then scaled the roof. Wasting
no effort, it followed the roof ’s own slope, from a distance of two inches.
Puff, and it was out of sight. I wondered how many more hills and houses
it would have to climb before it could rest. From the force of its will it
would seem it could flutter through the walls.
Monarchs are “tough and powerful, as butterflies go.” They fly over
Lake Superior without resting; in fact, observers there have discovered a
curious thing. Instead of flying directly south, the monarchs crossing high
over the water take an inexplicable turn toward the east. Then when they
reach an invisible point, they all veer south again. Each successive swarm
repeats this mysterious dogleg movement, year after year. Entomologists
actually think that the butterflies might be “remembering” the position of a
long-gone, looming glacier. In another book I read that geologists think
that Lake Superior marks the site of the highest mountain that ever existed
on this continent. I don’t know. I’d like to see it. Or I’d like to be it, to feel
when to turn. At night on land migrating monarchs slumber on certain
trees, hung in festoons with wings folded together, thick on the trees and
shaggy as bearskin.
Monarchs have always been assumed to taste terribly bitter, because of
the acrid milkweed on which the caterpillars feed. You always run into
monarchs and viceroys when you read about mimicry: viceroys look
enough like monarchs that keen-eyed birds who have tasted monarchs once
will avoid the viceroys as well. New studies
indicate that milkweed-fed monarchs are
not so much evil-tasting as literally nauseating,
since milkweed contains “heart poisons
similar to digitalis” that make the bird ill.
Personally, I like an experiment performed
by an entomologist with real spirit. He had
heard all his life, as I have, that monarchs
taste unforgettably bitter, so he tried some.
“To conduct what was in fact a field experiment
the doctor first went South, and he ate
a number of monarchs in the field. . . . The
monarch butterfly, Dr. Urquhart learned,
has no more flavor than dried toast.” Dried
toast? It was hard for me, throughout the monarch migration, in the middle
of all that beauty and real splendor, to fight down the thought that what

It is easy to coax a dying or exhausted butterfly onto your finger. I saw
a monarch walking across a gas station lot; it was walking south. I placed
my index finger in its path, and it clambered aboard and let me lift it to my
face. Its wings were faded but unmarked by hazard; a veneer of velvet
caught the light and hinted at the frailest depth of lapped scales. It was a
male; his legs clutching my finger were short and atrophied; they clasped my
finger with a spread fragility, a fineness as of some low note of emotion or
pure strain of spirit, scarcely perceived. And I knew that those feet were
actually tasting me, sipping with sensitive organs the vapor of my finger’s
skin: butterflies taste with their feet. All the time he held me, he opened and
closed his glorious wings, senselessly, as if sighing.
The closing of his wings fanned an almost imperceptible redolence
at my face, and I leaned closer. I could barely scent a sweetness, I could
almost name it . . . fireflies, sparklers—honeysuckle. He smelled like honeysuckle;
I couldn’t believe it. I knew that many male butterflies exuded
distinctive odors from special scent glands, but I thought that only laboratory
instruments could detect those odors compounded of many,
many butterflies. I had read a list of the improbable scents of butterflies:
sandalwood, chocolate, heliotrope, sweet pea. Now this live creature here
on my finger had an odor that even I could sense—this flap actually
smelled, this chip that actually took its temperature from the air like any
envelope or hammer, this programmed wisp of spread horn. And he
smelled of honeysuckle. Why not caribou hoof or Labrador tea, tundra
lichen or dwarf willow, the brine of Hudson’s Bay or the vapor of rivers
milky with fine-ground glacial silt? This honeysuckle was an odor already
only half-remembered, as breath of the summer past, the Lucas cliffs and
overgrown fence by Tinker Creek, a drugged sweetness that had almost
cloyed on those moisture-laden nights, now refined to a wary trickle in the
air, a distillation pure and rare, scarcely known and mostly lost, and heading
south.
I walked him across the gas station lot and lowered him into a field. He
took to the air, pulsing and gliding; he lighted on sassafras, and I lost him.
For weeks I found paired monarch wings, bodiless, on the grass or on
the road. I collected one such wing and freed it of its scales; first I rubbed
it between my fingers, and then I stroked it gently with the tip of an infant’s
silver spoon. What I had at the end of this delicate labor is lying here on this
study desk: a kind of resilient scaffolding, like the webbing over a hot-air
balloon, black veins stretching the merest something across the nothingness
it plies. The integument itself is perfectly transparent; through it I can read
the smallest print. It is as thin as the skin peeled from sunburn, and as
tough as a parchment of fleeced buffalo hide. The butterflies that were eaten
here in the valley, leaving us their wings, were, however, few: most lived to
follow the valley south.
9
The migration lasted in full force for five days. For those five days I was
inundated, drained. The air was alive and unwinding. Time itself was a
scroll unraveled, curved and still quivering on a table or altar stone. The
monarchs clattered in the air, burnished like throngs of pennies, here’s one,
and here’s one, and more, and more. They flapped and floundered; they
thrust, splitting the air like the keels of canoes, quickened and fleet.
It looked as though the leaves of the autumn forest had taken flight, and
were pouring down the valley like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, all the leaves
of hardwoods from here to Hudson’s Bay. It was as if the season’s color were
draining away like lifeblood, as if the year were molting and shedding. The
year was rolling down, and a vital curve had been reached, the lift that gives
way to headlong rush. And when the monarchs had passed and were gone,
the skies were vacant, the air poised. The dark night into which the year was
plunging was not a sleep but an awakening, a new and necessary austerity,
the sparer climate for which I longed. The shed trees were brittle and still,
the creek light and cold, and my spirit holding its breath.

20.1.10

X

X

Y

Y

Z

Z

V

V

W

W

T

T

U

U

Q

Q

R

R

S

S

O

O

P

P

M

M

N

N

K

K

L

L

G

G

H

H

I

I

J

J

D

D

E

E

F

F

C

C

B

B

A

A

19.1.10

Text Info and Link


Instructional Materials and References:
Required Text:
VanderMey et al. The College Writer. 2nd Edition. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007. ISBN: 0-618-74253-0

Student Textbook site:
Recommended Texts:
Dictionary, thesaurus

Where Do You Stand?


Where do you stand with regard to writing?

Where do you stand with regard to writing?
FEET: What do I stand for as a foundation of writing?
STOMACH: What upsets me about writing?
HEART: What do I love about writing?
HANDS: What do I feel about writing?
EARS: What do I hear about writing?
EYES: What do I see about writing?
BRAIN: What do I think about writing? 

Bio Poem


Bio Poem





How to Write a BioPoem

(Line 1) First name
(Line 2) Three or four adjectives that describe the person
(Line 3) Important relationship (daughter of . . . , mother of . . . , etc)
(Line 4) Two or three things, people, or ideas that the person loved
(Line 5) Three feelings the person experienced
(Line 6) Three fears the person experienced
(Line 7) Accomplishments (who composed . . . , who discovered . . . , etc.)
(Line 8) Two or three things the person wanted to see happen or wanted to experience
(Line 9) His or her residence
(Line 10) Last name
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Biopoem Sample
Rosa
Determined, brave, strong, loving
Wife of Raymond Parks, mother of all children
Who loved equality, freedom, and the benefits of a good education
Who hated discrimination, loved to stand up for her beliefs, and loved to help others
Who feared that racism would continue, feared losing the opportunity to make a difference, and feared that young people might lose opportunities to develop strength and courage
Who changed history as she accomplished great strides for equality and encouraged excellence for all
Who wanted to see love triumph and see an end to all bias and discrimination in a world in which respect is freely given to all
Born in Alabama and living in Detroit
Parks

From Abromitis, B.S. (1994, June/July). Bringing lives to life. Biographies in reading and the content areas. Reading Today, 11, 26. Reprinted with permission of the publisher and author.


Copyright 2004 IRA/NCTE. All rights reserved

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9.1.10

-- W 00 -- Syllabus

SYLLABUS: ENGLISH 82B Written Communication II (3)
Fall 2010 -- Thursdays 9:00 -11:45
Prerequisite/Co-requisite Courses: None

Instructor: Dr. Sylvia Y. Schoemaker Rippel
Phone: 510.628.8036
Email:
sysr@lincolnuca.edu
Office Hours: T-Th 11:45-12:30 and by arrangement
COURSE DESCRIPTION
ENG 82B - WRITTEN COMMUNICATION II
The course includes critical reading and evaluation of selected texts and writings; composition of well-organized expository papers; a careful consideration of methods of research, organization in a clear, logical manner and other elements involved in writing research papers. (3 units)
COURSE OBJECTIVES
Students will develop their writing skills for academic, professional, and socio-cultural purposes, in context-centered essay writing. Students will learn editing, documentation skills, and use of online and other resources.
University learner goals 1 -6, and specifically in English:: To develop basic academic and professional skills(1); To develop the ability to communicate effective in English, orally and in writing, and to read with understanding (1.1) and institutional goals , especially 1,(1.1-1.4), 2.4
Through assigned essays and exercises, students will demonstrate with progressive skill in mechanics and style according to established rubrics
INSTRUCTIONAL MATERIALS AND REFERENCES
REQUIRED TEXT
VanderMey et al. The College Writer. Second Edition. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007.
TOPICAL OUTLINE
English 82B covers the aspects of composing well-organized written communications in functional contexts. The core of the course will emphasize practice in organizing ideas in a clear, logical manner and other elements involved in writing papers in various applied contexts.
Topics include: writing development based on critical reading and evaluation of both student and professional writing. Review of the foundation for writing in academic and professional contexts.
SCHEDULE

Wk1
2-Sep
Unit 1 Introduction
Wk2
9-Sep
Introductory Essay: Consider each of the following contexts: Personal (family), Social (culture, home country), Professional (economic now/future), Universal (philosophical, goals, definition of success)
Where do you stand? (feet, stomach, heart, ears, eyes, hands, brain)
Wk3
16-Sep
Peer Evaluation
Unit 1 Essay Due
Wk4
23-Sep
Unit 2: Language, Literature, Art, Music, Humanities Focus
Media: Story of English; Do You Speak American?
Wk5
30-Sep
The College Writer (TCW), C24, Writing about Literature and the Arts
MLA Format
Wk6
7-Oct
Literary Analysis (TCW, 357), oral presentations (TCW, 319), web writing (TCW, 399) http://www.wisc.edu/writing/Handbook/ReadingPoetry.html
Wk7
14-Oct
TCW, C25, Academic Essays 
Review; Presentations
Unit 2 Paper Due
Wk8
21-Oct
Midterm
Wk9
28-Oct
Presentations
Wk10
4-Nov
Unit 3 Social Sciences Focus
TCW, C26, Writing for the Workplace
Wk11
11-Nov
C27 Writing and Designing in the Web Business, Economics America at Work APA Format, C34 Abstracts/summaries(538,540,550) Research C29-32,
Wk12
18-Nov
Experiment report (TCW, 341), observation report (TCW, 319), research paper(TCW, 423) Unit 3 Paper Due
Wk13
25-Nov
Unit 4 Cosmos Physical Sciences
Wk14
2-Dec
Nature/ Ecology Microcosmos Field Report (TCW, 341), research paper (TCW, 423)
Review; Presentations Conclusion
Unit 4 Paper Due
Wk15
9-Dec
Final

ASSESSMENT AND METHOD OF EVALUATION
Class Participation
15%
Quizzes
10%
Projects
15%
Unit Papers
30%
Presentation
10%
Final Exam
20%

Total
100%

100-95
A
94-90
A-
89-87
B+
86-84
B
83-80
B-
79-77
C+
76-74
C
73-70
C-
69-67
D+
66-64
D
63-60
D-
59 or <
F