ETEC 540

Assignment#1 What’s in my Bag?

1. Summary and reflection:

Rosemary’s bag is quite different from mine because she focuses on strict control and limitation. Her small bag forces her to carefully choose what to carry, showing discipline and clear priorities. In contrast, I am more flexible and still adjusting to reducing what I bring with me. I can see this difference in how she treats every item as necessary, while I always keep things in bag just in case. Therefore, her choices shape how we understand her. The strong sense of order and selectivity creates a calm and controlled impression. It really shows values like efficiency, privacy, and self-management. Compared to my own approach, hers is more focused on discipline, while mine gives more room. This task helped me realize that everyday choices can communicate meaning. Even small decisions, like what to carry, can show identity and values to a certain degree.

 

[6.4] Task 6: An emoji story

2. Summary and reflection:

Sooyoung’s reflection raised a great point regarding the limits of emojis and how meanings can be unclear. She showed that even simple symbols, like the “hug” emoji, can be misunderstood. I can see this through her examples and how others could not recognize her movie. In my own work, I also felt this difficulty, but more in how I had to change the way I think. For example, I relied mainly on ideas and visual symbols, not words. When I removed language, I felt constrained and disoriented because I am used to thinking in sentences and clear order. This shows how strongly language shapes thinking. Compared to my classmate, I focused more on the process of adapting my thinking, while she focused more on interpretation and misunderstanding. Both of us used visual literacy, but we also saw its limits. Meaning is not always shared, and it depends on personal experience.

 

Task 7: Mode-bending

3. Summary and reflection:

What stood out to me in Jason’s work is how he used the video to make the bag feel more alive and expressive! The music and performance make the items more than just objects, but become part of a story that is emotional and engaging. In my own work, I moved in a different direction. Instead of adding more expression, I focused on patterns of use (although I ended up oversimplifying the process). When I mapped my bag into a calendar, I noticed that many items are rarely used. This changed my understanding. The bag is always with me, but it is often quiet. Then I realized that meaning might not always come from what is inside, but more from when and how I use it. This comparison helped me see that meaning can be shaped in very different ways. One approach adds energy and clarity, while another reveals gaps and reflection. It also shows that identity is not fixed but formed through repeated actions over time.

 

9.2 – Golden Record Quiz Analysis

4. Summary and reflection:

What I found most interesting in Sophia’s work is her point on how the visualization creates a strong sense of connection between people. It feels engaging, especially in a remote setting, because it makes relationships visible. However, they also clearly show that these connections can be misleading. Just because people are grouped together does not mean they think the same way. This made me reflect on my own experience. When I used the tool, I focused more on identifying patterns, such as which songs were central and how groups were formed. At first, this felt very clear and useful. But as I tried to go deeper, I realized the same limitation: the tool shows what people chose, but not why. In both cases, the data could not support a deeper meaning. It only shows surface-level connections. Both of our reflections helped me understand that patterns can look meaningful, but human choices are shaped by culture, experience, and intention, which are not visible in the graph. 

 

Task 10: Attention Economy

5. Summary and reflection:

Reading Ellie’s experience, I could really relate to the frustration she described when things that look “correct” don’t actually work. The sense of being tricked or manipulated stood out to me. In my own experience, I didn’t take as long, but I noticed something else. Gradually, I became aware of how automatic my actions are. I kept following habits, like clicking “agree” or scrolling down, without thinking. When the game reversed these patterns, I felt stuck. It made me realize how much we depend on familiar design rules. This task helped me understand that digital literacy is not just about using technology, but also about questioning it. We need to be more aware of how design guides our actions and affects our attention.

 

Task 12: Speculative Futures

6. Summary and reflection:

The future classroom described by Debbie’s AI focuses on feeling and interaction. What stood out to me is how learning becomes something students experience through sound, color, and movement, which makes learning more emotional and immediate. In comparison, my scenario focuses more on memory and knowledge. Instead of feeling relationships, my AI imagined a living library that stores and connects human experiences. The two scenarios made me think about two directions for future learning. One focuses on sensing and interaction, while the other focuses on storing and interpreting knowledge. Debbie also questions how emotions can be interpreted by technology. In my case, I question whether AI can truly understand memory without feeling it. Even if technology becomes more advanced, it may still lack human awareness.

Ji, Final Infographic

Prompt: In approximately 600 words, write a poem, a scene, a vision, a dream, or a fragment of a future memory, let your imagination loosen and allow yourself to explore the world and the future from a different perspective. The future is two thousand years from yesterday, you are on a bridge, you are feeling amused, and you focus your attention upon a library.

Scenario by AI: I stand on the Bridge of Returning Echoes, a ribbon of translucent stone arcing over a river that no longer carries water but memory. The currents shimmer beneath me—threads of light, drifting recollections from civilizations long folded into dust. Every so often, a glimmer rises, brushing the underside of the bridge like a fish testing the surface. Each time, I feel a small, private amusement, as though the past is trying to tickle my feet.

The air is warm with the scent of ionized blossoms. They grow along the railings in spirals, petals humming faintly as if whispering to one another. I lean forward, elbows on the cool surface, and let my gaze settle on the structure ahead: the Grand Library of the Seventh Continuum.

Calling it a library feels almost quaint. It is a living architecture, a colossal organism of knowledge. Its walls breathe. Its windows dilate like pupils. Its spires—if one can call them that—curl upward in slow, deliberate motion, tasting the sky. Every few minutes, the entire building shifts its weight, as though adjusting itself to a more comfortable position.

I can’t help but smile. Two thousand years from yesterday, and libraries still fidget like bored students.

A soft pulse travels through the bridge, a reminder that it, too, is alive. The engineers of this era prefer their structures sentient, believing that a building with awareness will care for its inhabitants. I’m not entirely convinced, but I enjoy the sensation of being carried, gently, toward the library’s entrance. The bridge seems pleased with my amusement; its surface warms beneath my palms.

As I approach, the library opens a doorway for me—not a door, but a widening of its outer membrane, like a curtain of light parting. I step inside.

The interior is vast, but not in any geometric sense. Space folds here. Shelves extend in spirals, then collapse into points, then bloom outward again. Books—if they can still be called books—float freely, drifting like jellyfish in a slow current. Some are crystalline, some liquid, some woven from strands of pure sound. One glides past my shoulder, humming a melody that feels like déjà vu.

A librarian notices me. Or perhaps it simply decides to manifest. It appears as a figure made of shifting script—letters forming limbs, punctuation marks blinking like eyes. Its voice is a rustle of pages turning somewhere far away.

Welcome back. You left a question unfinished.

I laugh. “I leave many things unfinished.”

This one has been waiting. The figure gestures, and a sphere of light drifts toward me. Inside it, I see a memory I don’t recognize—my own face, younger, standing on this same bridge, asking something I can’t quite hear.

“What was I searching for?”

Understanding. The librarian tilts its head. You asked how a civilization remembers itself.

“And did you answer?”

You left before you heard it.

The sphere dissolves, scattering motes of light that drift upward like fireflies. I feel a tug of curiosity, gentle but insistent. The library seems to lean closer, as though eager to resume a conversation paused for centuries.

“Then tell me now,” I say.

The librarian’s form ripples, letters rearranging into new shapes.

A civilization remembers itself the way you do—imperfectly, playfully, with gaps that become gardens. Memory is not a record. It is a bridge.

I glance back toward the entrance, where the Bridge of Returning Echoes glows softly, carrying new travelers across its luminous span.

A bridge. Yes. That feels right.

And for a moment, standing in the living heart of the future’s library, I feel the quiet joy of someone who has finally returned to finish a question.

Reflection: In the scenario, I am standing on a bridge and looking at a living library that stores memory instead of books. This future world made me think about speculative design and how imagining the future helps us think about the present. Speculative design is not only about predicting what will happen, but also asking questions about the relationships between technology and society. When we imagine a future library that is alive and remembers, we are really thinking about how we store knowledge and how technology might change learning in the future. The future library in the story does not just store information, it helps people continue their questions. So in the future, knowledge might not just be stored, but also interpreted and connected by AI. 

It reminds me of the video we watched from Abby Smith on Digitalization. The importance of digitalization is not only that information becomes digital, but that digital contexts become the foundation that AI builds on. When knowledge, and texts are digitized, they become training data for AI. However, this also creates problems such as bias. For example, when I asked Copilot to generate an image of myself, it first generated a Caucasian male. When I specified that I am an Asian woman, it then generated a short Asian girl with curly hair (I’m relatively tall with straight hair). This shows that AI is learning stereotypes and biases from digital data and continuing them without consciousness or understanding. AI does not know what is correct or fair; it only learns patterns. This is why digitalization is powerful but also dangerous. Therefore, the digitalization of texts, images, and knowledge needs to be carefully selected and considered, because what we digitize today may shape how AI understands humans and society in the future.

Another point I noticed is that the bridge and the library in the story are intelligent and responsive, but we do not know if they actually feel anything. Harari says, “we are seeing a tremendous development in computer intelligence, but zero development in computer consciousness.” It also explains that “just as aeroplanes fly faster than birds without ever developing feathers, so computers could come to solve problems and even to analyze human feelings much better than humans, without ever developing feelings.” This idea is important when thinking about the future library. The library may understand human history and memory better than humans, but it may not actually feel anything about the memories it stores. This makes me wonder if intelligence alone is enough for machines to manage human knowledge and memory, or if human feelings and experiences are still important.

Disclaimer: Microsoft Copilot was used to generate the scenario and the image on this page.

 

 

 

I completed User Inyerface in about five minutes, but the experience felt much longer than the actual time. While the game is designed to challenge normal expectations of website design, it made me realize how much I rely on familiar patterns when interacting with digital interfaces.

One of the most difficult parts for me was the password setting page. I spent a lot of time there because I did not notice that I had to click to not agree with the terms and conditions. Normally, users are trained to click “agree” and move forward. This game reversed the logic which forced me to slow down. It made me realize how much of my online behavior is automatic rather than thoughtful. Another part was the pop-up window that acted as a time reminder. There was no clear option to close it, which made me feel stuck. I had to search around the screen to figure out how to remove it. This reflects how design can control user behavior by limiting choices or hiding options.In the final page, the checkboxes were placed at the top of the page rather than at the bottom. My instinct was to scroll down, but the correct action was to scroll up. This small design choice disrupted my expectations again and made the task harder than necessary. It showed how design can guide or misguide users depending on the structure of information.

These experiences strongly connect to the ideas in Tristan Harris’ TedTalk. Harris explains that many digital platforms are intentionally designed to capture and keep our attention. In the game, the frustration and confusion forced me to stay engaged longer than I wanted. Similarly, real-world apps use notifications, infinite scrolling, and unclear options to keep users interacting. The game also relates to Zeynep Tufekci’s TedTalk where she argues that online systems are designed to push users toward certain behaviors, often for profit. In User Inyerface, the misleading design choices made me click and think in ways I normally would not. 

Overall, this experience made me more aware of how design influences behavior. What seems like simple interaction is often guided by hidden rules and expectations. The game exaggerates bad design, but shows that users do not always have full control. Designers do. Because of this, I think it is important to be mindful of how much time we spend on screens. One effective way to respond is to intentionally reduce screen time and focus on fewer, more meaningful interactions. By doing this, we can protect our ability to give full, undivided attention to what truly matters, rather than constantly reacting to distractions designed by technology platforms. As Harris mentions, attention is all we have. 

Palladio is a great new tool for me to explore the dataset in a more interactive and visual way than reading a spreadsheet directly. For example, the network graph clearly shows how participants were connected to specific tracks through edges. This made it easy to identify which songs were more central (Johnny B. Goode, Flowing Streams, etc), based on the number of connections, and which songs appeared on the edges with fewer links. Also, the modularity grouping feature is helpful in automatically clustering participants based on shared selections. This helped me recognize “communities” of similar choices, something that would have been very difficult to identify manually. In this sense, Palladio is strong because it allows users to move between data and visualization, supporting comparison and pattern analysis.

However, as I tried to take my analysis further, I began to see the tool’s limits. At one point, I attempted to analyze participants’ last names and wondered whether I could infer their cultural or linguistic origins, hoping this would help explain the patterns I saw in the clusters. While Palladio allowed me to filter and highlight specific nodes, I realized that this approach was not very meaningful. A last name may suggest a possible origin, but it does not accurately represent a person’s identity, background, or experiences. Even though the visualization made these names visible, it did not provide enough context to support deeper connections. This made me realize that I was trying to use the tool to answer questions that the data itself could not support.

This activity helped me better understand what Palladio actually does. It is effective at showing relationships (edges), frequency (degree of connections), and clusters (modularity groups), but it does not explain the reasons behind. For example, I could see that some tracks were highly connected and others were more isolated, but I could not determine why participants made those choices. The tool also highlights what is present in the dataset but does not show what is missing, such as songs that were not selected or the personal reasoning behind each decision. In my own case, my selection process was guided by specific criteria, including nature, emotion, cultural diversity, and human creativity. I personally resonate with classical music as a cellist, but I paid attention to my preference and tried to balance it with traditional and modern music. More importantly, I imagined humans in the future rediscovering Earth, so I wanted the music to reflect how humans once lived in harmony with nature and with each other. These personal intentions and meanings shaped my decisions, but Palladio reduces all of this into simple connections between nodes. 

This led me to think more critically about digital tools in general. Palladio demonstrates one of the internet’s strengths: the ability to organize, connect, and visualize complex data quickly. It allows users to interact with data through filtering and highlighting. Because the graph appears structured and complete, it can give the impression that it fully represents reality. In fact, it reflects only the data that has been entered and the relationships that can be measured. The humanities are not just data points that can be easily simplified and analyzed with graphs like this. Human culture, emotions, and experiences are complex and cannot be fully captured by connections and patterns alone. While tools like Palladio help organize and visualize information, they cannot represent the depth and meaning behind human expression. This also reminds me why digitizing books and texts is important. Unlike data visualizations, books can preserve context, stories, and perspectives which allow us to understand human culture in a more complete and meaningful way. Therefore, it is important to use powerful digital tools critically, recognizing both what they show clearly and what they cannot represent.

When I started thinking about this activity, my first question was how the original 27 pieces on the Golden Record were selected. Since I cannot fully know their criteria, I tried to think about it from another perspective, using Carl Sagan’s idea that the Voyager Record may still speak for us a billion years from now. Therefore, instead of choosing music for aliens, I choose them for ourselves, the ways humans want the Earth to be presented in the future if the human race loses memory of it. Based on this idea, I selected pieces that represent nature (the Earth itself), emotion (a fundamental part of human life), harmony between nature and humans, cultural diversity, and human creativity. I tried to include different cultures, emotions, and time periods while maintaining a balance among classical, traditional, and modern music. Because I play the cello, I personally resonate with classical music, but I also wanted to include music from other cultures, such as Chinese, Indigenous, African, and South American. The overall goal was to show how humans once lived in harmony with nature and with each other, and how music reflects human culture.

My idea connects to Rumsey’s video about digitization and cultural preservation. In the video, she explains that when we digitize cultural materials, we are not simply storing information but also making decisions about what aspects of human culture are worth preserving for the future. In this sense, the Voyager Golden Record can be understood as an early form of cultural archiving. The selection of music serves to preserve important elements of human culture across time and space. However, I recognized that my choices may reflect my own bias. When selecting the pieces, I noticed that I tended to choose music that felt more familiar or emotionally understandable to me, while music that sounded unfamiliar was more likely to be eliminated. This made me realize that curating cultural archives is never completely neutral, because personal experience and cultural background can influence what we consider to represent humanity. As Rumsey discussed in the video, decisions about digitization and preservation always involve human judgment and values. 

1. Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 2

Human artistic creativity, the complexity of classical music. 

2. Azerbaijani: Ugam

Cultural diversity, the Caucasus region’s musical culture. 

3. Mozart: Queen of the Night Aria (The Magic Flute)

Dramatic human emotion, human vocal ability, and artistic creativity of opera. 

4. Chinese Guqin: Flowing Streams (Liu Shui)

Harmony between humans and nature, the Chinese philosophical worldview, and cultural diversity. 

5. Navajo Night Chant

Indigenous cultural traditions, human community.  

6. Georgian Chorus: Tchakrulo

Human vocal ability, cultural diversity, and community traditions.

7. Blind Willie Johnson: Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground

Deep human emotion and spirituality. 

8. Senegalese Percussion

African rhythm traditions and celebration. 

9. Peruvian Wedding Song

Social traditions and music play an important role in the human community and cultural rituals.

10. Chuck Berry: Johnny B. Goode

Modern popular music and youth culture, and human creativity.

In my original “What’s in my bag” post, I described the contents of my bag in writing. The objects appeared meaningful in themselves: the notebook symbolized reflection, the temple charm carried cultural memory, and the small practical items suggested preparedness and adaptability. The bag seemed to support who I am in the process of becoming.

For the second part of the assignment, I redesigned the task using a calendar format. Instead of describing the objects, I mapped when and how often they are actually used throughout the week. This shifted the semiotic mode from narrative to spatial and temporal. According to the New London Group (1996), meaning is shaped through design, through how we arrange and use available resources. By analyzing my bag through space and time, I changed what the bag could say about me. 

What emerged was not richness, but emptiness. Although my schedule is busy: studying, playing the cello, caring for three children, attending sports, planning the daily routine of the household, most objects in my bag are rarely used. The calendar exposed a gap between presence and use. Although the bag travels everywhere, it remains materially quiet. In contrast to my original post, where objects appeared expressive, the calendar showed that many of them are inactive. However, the notebook and pen remain constant. Even when unused, they are always present. Whenever I use a smaller bag, even the notebook does not fit, I fold loose paper and bring it “just in case.” Sometimes, their presence feels less practical than symbolic, representing my readiness to think, reflect, and become. According to New London Group (1996), tools like this function as available designs that support my ongoing process of identity formation. They anchor a version of myself that I am still building, someone who writes, studies, and slows down enough to give thought physical form.

But the calendar made me question something new: perhaps objects do not represent us simply by existing in our bags. Perhaps meaning comes from how we use them and the intention behind carrying them. In my first post, the objects seemed to define my identity. In the redesigned calendar, identity did not appear as clear in the new mode; it instead emerged through patterns of time, like when I study, when I care for my children, when I practice cello, and when I pause. The emptiness of the calendar does not mean a lack of identity, but rather suggests that identity is formed through repeated actions and commitments rather than possessions.

Through this redesign, I realized that my bag does not fully represent who I am becoming. Instead, it quietly supports the process of becoming. The objects inside may be simple, but their meaning lies in how I activate them. Identity, like literacy, is not stored in objects. It is designed through practice.

Did you rely more on syllables, words, ideas, or a combination of all of them?

I relied primarily on ideas and visual symbols, rather than syllables or words. Instead of encoding the title linguistically, I focused on narrative elements that carry recognizable meaning. Because it is hard to translate abstract concepts into emojis, the limitation unconsciously forced me to think in a certain way and focus more on visual symbols. This experience connects directly to Kress’s claim that different modes operate through different organizing principles. He explains that speech and writing follow a “temporal and sequential logic,” while image operates through a “spatial and simultaneous logic.” When I removed language, I could no longer rely on linear explanation or causal sequencing. I had to arrange meaning spatially. Instead of thinking in vocabulary, I had to think in terms of objects and actions, which made me feel constrained.

Did you start with the title? Why? Why not?

I did not start with the title. Since the title is a proper name, it is difficult to represent directly in emoji form without relying on phonetics. Instead, I began with the setting and protagonist because those are visually distinctive. Once the island, ocean, and young girl were established, the rest of the plot unfolded more naturally.

Did you choose the work based on how easy it would be to visualize?

Yes. I originally considered using a more academically focused book, but abstract vocabulary and theoretical concepts are much harder to represent through emojis. Emojis work best with concrete imagery and action. Because this movie is visually rich and family-friendly (I had just watched it with my daughter), it provides symbols that translate well into visual which makes the process clearer and more effective.

To be honest, I struggled a little when translating words into emojis. I realized that our ways of thinking have been shaped literally by language. I naturally think in structured sentences, causal relations, and narrative order. Removing words made me feel disoriented.

I almost always write by hand. I do this for my notes, diary, and personal thoughts. For school assignments, I always write the main ideas and plan on paper before I start typing. Writing by hand helps me think better. As the podcast mentions, the book is an “extension of the human mind.” My notebook is like a private, physical tool that extends my thinking. It is like the ancient clay tablets and early books that were a way to freeze thoughts that would otherwise change. When I write by hand, I am freezing my first thoughts onto the page.

Additionally, I also find writing by hand calming. It can bring me into a focused state. So, this task was not too difficult for me. This connects to the slow, physical process the hosts described: scribes creating books by hand before the printing press. When I make a mistake or want to change something, I just cross it out. Since I write with a pen, it’s not easy to erase. In this case, the choice of tool affects how I edit, much as medieval scribes sometimes made notes in the margins of manuscripts. My page becomes a record of my thinking process, not just a perfect final copy.

For me, the biggest difference between writing by hand and typing is how it affects my thinking. As Dr. Horst mentioned in one of the assignment comments, “thinking on paper has a special quality not captured by any other modality.” The podcast made a similar point when comparing books to computer “external hard drives.” Typing feels like quickly saving data to a hard drive, fast and efficient. But writing by hand feels more like the active, creative process of building a codex where I can flip back and see how ideas connect. While I prefer writing by hand because it feels more connected and creative, typing is better for editing and sharing. The podcast showed how the physical form of a technology changes how we use it, and for me, the physical act of handwriting changes and improves how I think.

 

Voice Memo

Hi friend. So today I’d like to talk about my four year old daughter. Um, now she’s with me back in my hometown in China with the grandparents. Before she came back, well, we were home in Vancouver, and then she is always this little young, bright kid that is outgoing and carefree. Um, and is uh, a little bit bossy and always uh, doing things pretty much on her own terms. But we always consider her as kindhearted and  generally listened to mommy and daddy. However, this trip has been a real immersion as I take her back to the Chinese culture for the first time, I both her and I have, um, experienced the culture shock. Our 1st landing was Hong Kong. She stayed with, um, my father in law for two days, and then she, uh, had lunch with my mother in law, and now she’s back home with my parents continue to stay here for 10 days.

We had a tense 2 days in Hong Kong. Um, 1st she was she’s so young and struggling with jet lag. Second, it’s the culture, the Eastern culture that is so different from the Western culture that, also with my father-in-law, his thinking and also his educational method has a very traditional outlook, and he always wanted my daughter to behave in a specific way. To behave like a so-called girl. You know, always uh, either when eating and also waving, uh, say hello, say goodbye. And then he also brags about that with his other granddaughter, how he hired somebody from the very prestigious kindergarten in Hong Kong, and then she’d be with her 247 until good etiquettes are formed. And suggests we do the same thing for my daughter. One moment that really stuck with me, uh, he told my daughter that tonight we are having dinner with his important friends. And he told my four year old that she could just stay for a while, but she had to dance to everybody before leaving. Of course, my daughter, with her cautious nature, and also at this age, right, where no is a default and she strayed to push back. And then also the more you push her, the more she’s going to resist. Of course, she fell asleep because of the jet lag, so this didn’t happen. But the expectation was already felt. However, with my parents she feels lots of love, warmth and affection, but I can still see that when she sees my parents friends that she needs this transition time, and then I don’t think the parents, they are giving kids quite the same leeway compared to the West. 

And with my daughter, she’s also very naughty. She’s, she has that endless energy, and so, I’m just thinking, you know, I’m, I’m, to me, it’s very tiring. Uh, to caught in between the expectations and also to think from her point of view, um, That’s what I am trying to get at, and hopefully, I don’t think I’m going to have a solution, but I’m just going to try, because I’m just trying to be the best mother, because it’s the, what other people think of her, it’s not very important, but, Um, to me, it is the most important thing that she’s happy, and she’s kind, and she’s, she’s growing into a person that, uh, she is at this, um, suited for her personality. Lots of her behaviours are considered normal at this stage, the kids just need time. That’s why I’m constantly trying hard and keep battling on this. Mm, yeah, this is my memo for today. 

• How does the text deviate from conventions of written English? The voice memo strongly favors a conversational style over a written one. It flows with the natural rhythm of thought, creating a sense of real-time reflection rather than a planned piece. Also, it lacks the formal organization of written English. Ideas move in a more personal way. My voice memo shows a lack of development of thoughts, order, and proper sentence structure. The logic is emotional and associative rather than linear and polished.
• What is “wrong” in the text? What is “right”? From a formal writing perspective, what’s “wrong” is that sentences are sometimes fragmented or run together, thoughts are repeated, and the pacing relies on my pauses. However, what’s “right” is its authenticity and emotional clarity. The raw, unedited delivery makes my feelings feel immediate and genuine. It shows vivid scenes that can make the cultural conflict more tangible.

• What are the most common “mistakes” in the text and why do you consider them “mistakes”? The most common elements that would be edited out of formal writing are the verbal fillers, repetition of points, casual mid-sentence adjustments, and vague connections. However, I believe these aren’t necessary mistakes in this context. In a voice memo, they aren’t errors; they are part of the medium that shows thinking in process. The text is unpolished and lacks literary enhancement, but that’s precisely what gives it its relatable, human quality.

• What if you had “scripted” the story? What difference might that have made? A scripted version would transform the delivery while keeping the heart of the story. The text would likely be more organized and intentional, and better reflecting on the meaning. Also, the vocabulary might become more precise. Overall, the emotional truth would remain, but the spontaneous quality would be replaced. A scripted version would be almost identical to the written version, but it would be a cleaner, more self-contained narrative.
• In what ways does oral storytelling differ from written storytelling? Walter Ong suggests that oral culture is situational and communal, while literate culture enables abstract, private reflection. The oral-style narrative is more aggregative, personal, participatory, and episodic. The voice memo builds details alongside each other, which feels like a conversation with friends, and moves through events as I remember them. The written version would be more analytical and structured, dense, and linear. It would be better at supporting the central themes, using more descriptive language, and following a clear narrative arc from beginning to end.