One’s ability to present their thoughts on paper is hollow should they not be able to further substantiate these thoughts through the medium of oral or otherwise multimedia presentation. As humans are social beings, the mental connections made to a presenter’s body language and vocal tone provide additional context and nuance that bullet-point presentations or brief articles lack. In addition to varied levels of literacy and, in the digital age of publication, limited access to the internet or internet-connected devices, standard print or online posts can be difficult for some audiences to reach. Therefore, broadcasting one’s point is still, and will always be best done vocally to maximize both the audience’s size and understanding.

Anticipating these limitations of the written word, most colleges’ liberal arts departments dedicate much of their day-to-day coursework to in-person discussion, be it related to the written work the students produce outside of class or not. In my experience, a course dedicated to professional writing within the topics of the students’ independent choosing would often reconvene face-to-face to discuss a centralized topic. I’d step away from writing about the relevance of sports or video games in geopolitical relations, for example, to subsequently speak about the rights of the American judicial system with my professors and academic peers. At its core, this practice aims to challenge students with quickly developing and supporting ideas, then subsequently communicating their findings coherently. Informal, impromptu, and on-the-spot, this discussion-based curriculum familiarizes and acclimates students with reaching audiences beyond the reach of their limited resources.

Liberal arts majors often require that students enroll in a broader list of general education university studies, which, often perceived by students to be tedious or pointless, actually provides successful students with a general background in various topics, producing educated writing about specialized topics. A lack of background knowledge often leads readers to believe that a writer is ignorant and in no position to discuss a certain topic; conversely, knowing as much as possible about a particular topic before pen is put to paper boosts a writer’s credibility. Between topics of music history, marine biology, sustainability and microeconomics, I found my academic responsibilities for courses unrelated to my major to be as important to my future success as my primary composition and drafting-based courses, as without solid background knowledge, my ability to communicate effectively would be lost upon more experienced or knowledgeable audiences.

The value of the liberal arts department spreads beyond the reach of the classroom, often networking within itself and externally into internships or staffer’s positions. By the end of my freshman year, before I had formally committed to majoring in English, samples of my work had been passed throughout the school system, eventually garnering the attention of the on-campus newspaper, The Torch. Hired to a staff writer’s position at the start of my sophomore stint, I was given the opportunity to apply my once course-centered writing abilities in practical, field-based scenarios. While initially keeping my options open and diversifying my article content between album reviews, on-campus happenings, and the occasional editorial, I soon found myself anchoring the majority of the paper’s sports column. This dedication to the sports section eventually manifested into a promotion to editor, where, during a particular hiring slump, I often found myself providing for up to two-thousand words per week (excluding my academic workload) should no contributors be available. 

The opportunity to represent The Torch provided twofold first-hand experience working in the news industry - not only was the strain of minimal staff a proper acclimation to the effort and output expected of me further in the field, but the interaction between my publication and the direct response of my readers helped to better conceptualize the forms of rhetoric that would either engage or enrage any given audience. One of the biggest audiences of our newspaper’s sports column, which primarily focused on college athletics, were the athletes themselves. As expected, they took great pleasure in their feats and statistics being praised, and conversely anguished in grave losses, generating a thin line between realistic depictions of a setback and biting criticism upon which I would often tread to recapitulate events in the most fair way possible.