I, like mostly people, have grown to hate their Gateway projects. Specifically, I hate my eportfolio. Not only do I think that it’s boring to look at, but I also see a lack of cohesion between the pages that I didn’t see when I was constructing it.
My Capstone project is a lot different, since we no longer have to house our work on an eportfolio. My sole focus has been on creating my project on my project’s site, and it’s been fairly easy to keep it logically pieced together. By the way I’ve written it, and the explanatory nature of the content, many visually separate chunks of prose seem to be a part of the same train of thought.
But now I have to end it. The problem isn’t so much: what am I going to say in my conclusion? The problem is: how am I going to say it. I know that I want to leave my audience with a takeaway about what they should do now that they’ve gained all of this specific knowledge. However, as I’m attempting to write it, the prose reads in an almost completely different voice than the rest of my project.
My voice elsewhere is very straight forward and to the point. It’s explanatory and matter-of-fact. But in the conclusion, I, for some reason, sound like I’m writing in a diary.
I decided to go back to my Gateway to see how I ended things there. The issue is that I didn’t end things. I didn’t have any sort of conclusion not only for my eportfolio, but also for the project itself. I used the platform merely as a place to plop my work down and explain it.
For this project, I decided to focus on one of my favorite books, If on a winter’s night a traveler, by Italo Calvino. I was interested in the genre that it was written in, and I wanted to convince an audience of unfamiliar readers to dive into this somewhat intimidating postmodern work. As a result, I wrote an article analyzing the novel’s success.
For this project, I took the argument in my previous piece, The Case for Calvino, and translated it into a new medium, for the same audience. The medium I chose was Twitter.
Postmodernism can be confusing and dense, and I thought it would be more approachable and disgestable in this short format. Moreover, the discontinuity of Twitter allowed me to experiment with the many different thematic concerns of the genre.
I created a fictional author, Katherine Crosby, and tweeted her postmodern thoughts. I also tweeted pictures and links that Katherine found useful, interesting, and relevant, and I retweeted quotations from well-known postmodern authors that inspired her. Consequently, Katherine’s timeline presents a diverse picture of postmodernism.
This is so BORING and UNHELPFUL. At the time, I didn’t realize that I wasn’t answering the most important question of content creation: what does this matter?
We had to write about the making of the projects, and now I’m wondering, why didn’t I include this material in the introductions and conclusions of my works?
That way, people unfamiliar to the genre could be exposed to it without being too bogged down by some of the more confusing characteristics (like nonlinear plotlines, ect). With only 140 characters, I could show my audience what postmodernism was, without making them work too hard for the understanding.
This reflective work would have framed my projects in a more interesting light.
So now, for my conclusion in Capstone, I’m going to reflect back on the making of my project. What things have I noticed changing about my own habits the more I’ve learned about analytics? What kind of consumer have I become over the course of this project? Which bits of information have informed my perspective the most?
If I answer these questions, my conclusion will hopefully sound less like a diary and more like the rest of my project. Then, as I move towards revealing a truth that I’ve uncovered about my own habits as a consumer, the voice will become more explanatory -this is how it is- and less instructive -this is what you should do.