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201--Speech 2nd Period

"Ok, gang. I'm CJ. This term you will be learning the art of rhetoric as well as effective tools for public speaking. There's nothing like doing to get you into this, so prepare to take notes."

Pacing back and forth, she lectures for a few minutes.

"The essence of rhetoric, according to Aristotle, is finding and utilizing, in a given situation, the available means of persuasion. To do this, there are tools. Ethos, Pathos, and Logos. Get used to these words, you'll be hearing them a lot. Ethos pertains to the character of the speaker. Are you knowledgable? Trustworthy? A stuttering, stammering imbecile? Then there you go. Pathos is an appeal to the emotions of the audience. Reading your audience is key...in what ways can you use their emotions to your advantage? Logos is the logical appeal...facts, figures, common knowledge."

She sips her coffee and waits for them to catch up.

"These three are the backbone of what we will be doing in class. Now, to see where you're at...write me a speech. 3 to 5 minutes. Introducing yourself. Oughta be more interestinmg than the usual 'stand up and tell me your name' thing. If you need help, want to talk, are curious why D'Artangnen isn't included with the three...I'm here to teach you and I'm not psychic, so you have to ask. Ok, Go."
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301--InterComm 3rd period

"Alrighty then. This term's going to be a little different, I'm guessing, because you've been here for a few months already. I'm assuming you know each other, and if you don't, then shame on you.

How we communicate is key. In this class, the basis of our discussions will focus on the sender/message/receiver paradigm. This means that for every attempt to communicate, there are three phases that much be negotiated for said communication to happen. In order for accurate assimilation of a message, theseder and the reciever have to have the same modes of understanding.

Going easy on you, easing you in...please tell me one time when communication went wrong for you...the person who was receiving got the wrong message. Then we'll see if we can figure out what you should have done differently. Go.

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...

Barbossa sat down and began writing his speech in his curiously neat calligraphy.

"I be Barbossa. I be a sophomore. Before I be comin' t' Fandom High, I be a cabin boy on a few ships o' wit' a certain manner o' reputation, especially t' anyone who be flyin' French or Spanish colors. Or who looked t' be sittin' a mite low in the water because of a certain presence o' shiny 'n heavy cargo, if ye be catchin' me meanin'. I be fifteen. I be pitched overboard, I be a hurricane survivor and I be able t' tell ye how t' navigate around the Bermuda triangle. I also be likin' rum, jam, apples 'n people humiliatin' themselves in public."

He looked down, reading it quietly to himself. Seemed to be about right, timewise.

"Doing all right, Barbossa?"

Barbossa smiled broadly. "Jes' fine, Professor."

Isabel sat down and listened to CJ speak. It was hard to focus, her mind kept drifting back to last night on the beach (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomtownies/520300.html). But she was in class for a reason, so she tried to focus and write her speech.

"I'm Isabel Evans and I'm from Roswell, New Mexico. Yes, the town that's famous for little green men. ~~But really we look just like everyone else.~~ I left Roswell because I was looking for something a little more normal. Think about it, what was your first reaction when I said Roswell? Did you automatically think 'little green men'? Try living with that your whole life. Of course I thought the normal I was going to find in Fandom would be a little more traditional, as opposed to "The purple dragon is the criminal justice professor's assistant." My world view is being expanded, and I think that's probably a very good thing."

"Isabel, any questions?"

"No ma'am, not at the moment." Isabel smiled as she looked at CJ and suddenly remembered who CJ was and the message (http://www.livejournal.com/users/izzyalienqueen/393.html?thread=12425#t12425)she had received on Friday. She did not blush, at least not too much.

Alanna thought for a moment, then grabbed a pen and began to write furiously. It's almost legible too.

"It's all my father's fault, really. He's the one who forgot to tell the king that my twin brother and I are twins. He's the one who didn't let my brother or I practice our Gift. He's the one who let Coram and Maude raise Thom and I. He's the one who accidentally reffered to Thom as Alan sometimes. He's the one who didn't notice that Thom could copy his handwriting. All of these things, plus the fact that I wanted to be a Knight and Thom a Sorcerer, lead to me disguise myself as a boy and train to be a knight. Really, it's his fault. I'm Alanna Trebond, Junior. Squire Alan of Trebond on the school's official records."

Totally unskilled at writing speeches, Bel writes:

"My name is Belthazor. I'm from San Francisco by way of the Underworld, which, like its name says, is underground. I'm a demon. My powers include being able to teleport myself from place to place, which is called 'shimmering,' and conjuring fireballs. But I'm not going to tell you everything I can do. I came to Fandom High to learn to live like a human. I'm taking this class because ~~CJ has great legs~~ Professor Cregg ~~is making me~~ suggested it."

He looked at the results and scowled.

"Doing ok, Belthazor?" She looks down at his writing, trying to read over his shoulder.

"I'm not very good at this," he admitted sheepishly.

"Don't worry. Just...be yourself." She gives him a reassuring smile and moves on.

Lisa seems frustrated writing her speech.

"My name is Lisa Cuddy.

I want to be a doctor someday.

My mother's a doctor. My father's a doctor. My father's father is a doctor. My mother's father is a doctor.

You get the point.

But as much as I love the field of medicine, I don't. I'm sure there will be a time when I'm totally comfortable making medical decisions, or maybe not, maybe you never truly get comfortable doing it, but at least there will be a time when I accept the fact I have to make medical decisions, and come to terms with it.

I know that I can be a better doctor that most of the schmucks in med school right now.

And some people hate hospitals, but I love them. I love the constant reminders of life, even in the face of illness and death. The thrum of EKGs, and the sterile, yes, but clean walls, and the face of a mother holding her newborn for the first time. I know it's strange, but I feel like I belong there.

But... when I was young, before she passed away, my grandmother used to call me Prietzteh. It means princess, and not in the good way. I used to hate it, but I think she was right. Because I erect towers for myself and I'm a little reluctant to leave them. Even here in this town, everyone else adjusts to the abnormal and bizarre, and I don't.

And I think that maybe, that's what I'll end up being. All alone in a tower. Because I love medicine, but I don't know if I can deal with someone's life being truly in my hands. So what's the alternative for people like me? Nice, fortified walls covered in degrees and commendations."

And the end of the essay were some scratched out passages, but they were unreadable due to Lisa's bad handwriting.

"Lisa? Can I help?"

"Do you have any extra speeches lying around?" Lisa says with a rueful smile.

"That would be a no. But you'll do fine. What have you got so far?"

Lisa hands Ms. Cregg the copy of her speech. "Umm, that. It's not very polished. I think I have some transition issues as well. And cliche issues. And... problems, in general. I'm not really a writer. I over-analyze."

Reading it over twice, she takes her pen and scratches out a couple passages, redundant wording, and offers a couple suggestions. "THose are only suggestions, take them or leave them. This one is supposed to be your pure voice...so if you use cliches and over-analyse, go for it."

Phoebe stared down at her paper for a long time before she started writing.

"My name is Phoebe Halliwell. I'm the ~~youngest~~ second youngest of ~~three~~ four sisters. I'm from San Francisco and I'm being raised by our Grams. I'm learning a lot more at this school than I ever thought I would. I've come to accept that no matter what I expect from the world around me, I am always going to be surprised by something, no matter what. ~~I'm also one of the Charmed Ones whose soulmate is a demon.~~"

Phoebe shook her head and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. She was so not good about talking about herself. She was going to flunk this class.

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