Author: Claire Ji

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.

Statement 1: [03:05] Spatial Cognition

In my experience, the languages I speak primarily (Chinese and English) use left and right to describe space. Although ancient Chinese often used north and south as reference points, this way of thinking is rarely used in modern daily life. As a result, my sense of cardinal direction is quite vague. When I try to identify direction, I often need external cues such as the position of the sun or the time of day. This aligns with Dr. Boroditsky’s explanation that language does not simply describe space, but actively trains speakers to attend to different spatial features, shaping the habitual awareness of the environment.

Statement 2: [06:10] Time

In my own experience, when I recall historical events related to Chinese history or think in Chinese, they tend to unfold as images (maps), concepts, or layered narratives, like turning pages in a book. This may be because Chinese history is often taught through storytelling and contextual relationships rather than through a single linear timeline. It is difficult to explain Chinese history as a single straight line, since expansion, coexistence, and conflict across multiple regions occurred simultaneously. In contrast, when I think about Western history, especially U.S. history, which I learned in English, events tend to appear in a clear linear sequence. This reflects Dr. Boroditsky’s idea that language and cultural framing influence how time is mentally organized.

Statement 3: [07:15] Memory, Law, and Action

As a multilingual learner who has recently begun studying Japanese, I have become more aware of how different languages describe actions and responsibility. Learning about passive sentence structures in Japanese has helped me notice how some languages reduce emphasis on the agent and focus more on the event itself. This has made me more attentive to how language shapes memory, especially in legal or testimonial contexts. With this point in mind, I now can consciously observe how linguistic habits may influence what is remembered and how responsibility is interpreted.

Statement 4: [41:30] Cognitive Flexibility

I think this is important because learning multiple languages increases cognitive flexibility. Speaking both Chinese and English allows me to shift between different ways of organizing ideas and interpreting situations. As I learn Japanese, I hope to develope an additional perspective that emphasizes context, social awareness, and relational thinking. This supports Dr. Boroditsky’s claim that learning new languages expands the ways people can think, rather than simply adding new vocabulary. I am eager to explore how learning the additional language affect my ways of thinking. 

Statement 5: [22:40] Social Attitudes

As a multilingual learner, I have noticed that language strongly reflects social values and cultural norms. In Japanese, specific words and sentence forms are used depending on social status and relationships. Similarly, in Chinese, different forms of “you” are used when speaking to elders or in formal situations. In contrast, English uses a single form of “you” in most contexts. When I switch languages, I also shift into different social expectations and cultural systems, which shows how language shapes social attitudes and communication.

Statement 6: [58:40] Learning and Cognitive Thought

I think this is important because learning new languages introduces specific ways of organizing thought, not just new words. For example, when learning Japanese, I must constantly consider sentence structure, levels of politeness, and implied meaning, which requires me to think more carefully about context and relationships. In contrast, English encourages more direct and explicit expression, while Chinese often relies on shared understanding and situational context. These differences show that language learning actively shapes how I plan, explain, and interpret ideas, supporting Dr. Boroditsky’s claim that language influences cognitive processes involved in learning.

I posted a photo of a bag I carry whenever I go out for errands. The items are simple and practical: a wallet with cards, some cash, and a small temple charm from Japan; a pen; a small notebook; loose paper for practicing Japanese; AirPods; a comb; a solid perfume; makeup; mouth freshener; a mask; Band-Aids; and a pair of Pilates socks. None of these items feels especially meaningful on its own. But they show how I move through everyday life and how I try to stay prepared and adaptable.

Most of the items in my bag support daily needs. I carry them so I can write thoughts down, take care of myself, and move comfortably between different spaces. I always carry a notebook and a pen. When I have a short break, even for half an hour, I often find a coffee shop to take notes on readings or practice my handwriting. The loose paper is there for practicing Japanese, a language I recently began to learn. Although I use digital tools alongside paper, especially when reading course materials or books too heavy to carry around. I prefer to think and write on paper, and writing by hand slows me down. It helps me focus and gives my thoughts a physical form. For me, the notebook and pen are important text technologies because they shape how I engage with language and learning.

Some of the items in my bag also connect to larger cultural and technological systems. The temple charm comes from Japan, where I will be moving for family reasons. It carries cultural meaning, even if I do not actively think about it each day. The loose paper used for practicing Japanese reflects learning as an ongoing process rather than an achievement. Other items, such as AirPods and cards, connect to digital systems of communication, identification, and access that are part of everyday life but often stay invisible.

The contents of my bag reflect many forms of literacy. These include handwritten literacy, digital listening and communication, and language learning. These literacies are not always visible from the outside. Outwardly, the bag may appear organized and composed. Privately, its contents reflect someone still forming an identity. I hold many roles: mother, wife, daughter, and someone preparing for future academic work. Yet I am still trying to understand what identity belongs to me alone. At times, I am unsure whether my bag represents a clear identity at all, or whether it simply reflects this in-between stage of becoming.

What stands out to me is how little my bag has changed over time. I have carried similar items since I was in high school, even though I cannot clearly remember what my bag looked like. This continuity shows that while my roles and responsibilities have shifted, the tools I rely on to think, learn, and care for myself have remained mostly the same.

If someone were to study this bag in the future, they might see it as evidence of a transitional moment (although I cannot imagine a world without handwritten texts). It reflects a period when people still relied on handwritten notes alongside digital and wireless systems, and when learning and daily life were supported by small, portable objects. In this way, my bag tells a quiet story: not who I want to be, but who I am slowly becoming through ordinary, everyday practices.