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November 28, 2012 Dear Sue, Good expository writing sometimes seems like an elusive hour or two of epiphany while sitting in the grand “Harry Potter Reading Room” at Suzzallo Library. In the two writing courses I have taken since coming to the University of Washington, “Theorizing Citizenship” and “20th Century Slavery,” I have learned that I can apply a couple of basic tenets that begin the processes of analytical and critical thinking and expository writing. These tenets are the four Course Outcomes detailed in Acts of Inquiry: audience awareness, inter-textual analysis, persuasive argumentation, and flexible proofreading. All four of these basic principles are pivotally relevant to a club idea that I hope to implement here at the University of Washington – the Bipartisan Coalition. In our course textbook, Acts of Inquiry, I was introduced to a book called The Argument Culture, by Deborah Tannen, which describes the negative state of political discourse in the United States today. While reading this book I was also developing an understanding of the critical yet conversational value of expository writing in your class, which proves far more pleasant than the ruthless attacks and altercations that plague much of what we read in newspapers and hear on television networks. In this club I plan on starting, my goal is to cut through this “argument culture” by close reading all sides of controversial issues, and then writing expository pamphlets for students to stimulate intelligent conversations about difficult topics. For this plan, the basic tenets I have developed upon in this class will be instrumental. Therefore, following this letter are essays that demonstrate my achievements in the four Course Outcomes, as well as how this development has informed my ideas for the Bipartisan Coalition. From my portfolio, the second essay – The Construction of a Common-Class – provides the best example of situation-specific style and tone, audience-specific writing, and a clear understanding of how aspects of writing are pitched to a certain audience. In my second essay I took two cluster-concepts, “citizenship” and “class,” and discussed how President Barack Obama theorized them in his Democratic Nomination speech, with some knowledge of Benedict Anderson’s theories of “class” to fuel my claim. This paper’s purpose was more about stakes in the upcoming election than anything else. As a brand new voter myself, my second paper utilized style, tone, and conventions that spoke to an audience of voters, specifically the author’s peers, and the situation of an approaching Election Day. Therefore, the stakes in The Construction of a Common-Class paper are directly and presently important, so tone is logically focused urgently at a voting audience trying to determine whether to vote for President Obama or not. For example, when talking about the United States’ “national mythos,” the historical stories that we choose to emphasize to future generations, I wonder, “what stakes do we have in these stories if they are not about our own successes?” and continue by explaining, “The best answer to this question is that we have adopted these stories into a national philosophy – and because the lessons of history run deep in our blood, so too does this philosophy.” First of all, the question posed underscores the focus directed toward the commonalities the author shares with the audience, a typical convention of persuasive arguments. The presence of the plural nouns “we,” and “our,” indicate further the common ground shared between the writer (me) and his audience. Additionally, the posing of a question, and subsequent answer, denote a casual, conversational tone that the essay enacts because of the writers relationship with his peers, the audience. The urgency of the subject is also evident in the insistent tone of the essay when I ask a series of rhetorical questions with the repeated phrase, “Have we not…?” This urgency demonstrates a common patriotic zeal that is often seen in American speeches. Even in President Barack Obama’s Democratic Nomination speech, he repeats the phrase “You’re the reason.” As both of my essay and Obama’s speech are geared towards a voting audience, this goes to show the tone of my essay is unequivocally fervent and patriotic. Simply put, my essay on The Construction of a Common-Class demonstrates through focused

questions and urgent tone how I have developed in the first outcome. Also, my second essay ultimately provides experience for how I should approach writing pamphlets on controversial issues. Just like a speech or a full essay, the expository and analytical commentaries I plan on using to stimulate discussion between students will require an adroit understanding of the target audience. Not just who the audience is, but how the audience would react to my handling of political issues. As an object of the persuasive genre, in my second essay I appealed to my audience, American voters, through patriotic urgency. The tone of these pamphlets, which I believe should be conversational because of their controversial status, will likewise have to appeal to the students that will most likely read them. I say conversational not only because I want to talk about controversial topics such as abortion or the “fiscal cliff,” but also because such a tone will be the most effective in not offending my audience. To demonstrate “inter-textual,” expository writing, the main mode of inquiry for my third essay – The Power to Enslave Within Freedom – is the process of creating an explicit conversation between two texts – in this case, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, and “Commodified Freedom” by Stephanie Smallwood. By relating Collins structure of Panem to Smallwood’s phrase, “logic of commodification,” I create a plane of analysis for understanding the power relationship between the Capitol and its Districts, just as Smallwood would have seen it. For example, I state “Smallwood would have called this categorization (of areas becoming Districts) part of the “logic of commodification.” Using Stephanie Smallwood’s term to benefit my analysis, in the same way that she would have used it if she were analyzing The Hunger Games, demonstrates a literary tradition where authors’ adopt and expand upon another author’s ideas, just as I accomplish here. In a similar fashion, this paper demonstrates a synthesis of Smallwood’s essay for the purpose of developing my claim that “freedom is a product of the system that governs us.” My goal, then, was to show how the same process that created markets justifying slave-holding and selling economically – termed “commodification” – is the same process that justified a similar enslavement of the citizens of Panem and their encompassing “Districts.” In this way, Professor Smallwood’s essay invaluably informed the argument of my third paper by allowing me to draw direct comparisons between my two sources. These comparisons eventually lead to a common theme, the theme of the power of government in determining what freedom is. The application of her term “commodification” to inform my own analysis of The Hunger Games shows how I have used multiple sources in a strategic manner to aid my writing. Therefore, with experience on how to create an inter-textual, or conversational, analysis, I am adequately equipped to tackle multiple viewpoints on divisive political issues. As I stated before, the Bipartisan Coalition pamphlets will be most realized under a conversational tone, as well as conversational, or “inter-textual,” analysis. With so many diverse opinions, writing these expository columns will take the same amount of care I took to analyze Suzanne Collins novel and Stephanie Smallwood’s essay. Just as I used primary and secondary sources to support my analytical goals for paper number three, so to will I use multiple sources and viewpoints to support the ultimate goal of the Bipartisan Coalition: to get students to seriously talk about issues that will at the forefront of our political sphere when we are older. Next, the third outcome is primarily evident in my first and second essays. I claim in The Destabilization of 19th Century Racial and Gender Roles that “William and Ellen Craft criticize nineteenth-century racial and gender norms by showing that one can put on a disguise to look and act white and masculine, and therefore race and gender are frivolous, equivocal descriptors of a person.” Here, I specifically criticize two social constructs, race and gender, of being both trivial, a point that I drive home throughout the essay. Also, in a manner which sets up my argument for the rest of the essay, I explain that race and gender are silly and ambiguous because “one” person – referring to Ellen Craft, but also to anybody in the world – can simply act into a certain role and pass as white or male, given that they create a fake physical façade as well. The fact that I believe anyone can do it speaks to the scope of my claim, indicating a high

level of complexity in what I am arguing for. Comparatively, my claim in my second paper is equally complex in its analysis and focused in its breadth. To begin, I take Obama’s speech and claim that the President “considers ‘citizenship’ as a ‘give-and-take’ idea that creates a fair, equal opportunity for all to move up the social and economic ladder to a higher class.” This thesis is inherently complex because not only does it make a statement about what I analyze as Obama’s theorizing of “citizenship,” but also how he relates that definition, in a linear relationship, with an equal opportunity to move up the economic ladder. Essentially, the line of inquiry here is Obama’s conceptualization of his keyword, “citizenship.” In the first part of the essay, I focus on how Obama defines “citizenship.” Then, I go on to develop how “citizenship” creates something bigger than itself, a mobile “class.” In using the concept of “citizenship” as a theoretical tool to understand “class,” the context that I gain from Obama’s theories of citizenship allows me to expand upon Anderson’s ideas on “imagined communities” and concepts of “class,” three very large topics that are focused down into my analysis. Taking into consideration, also, another view of citizenship that others may hold, I refute it by saying that the success of the United States in history proves the value of conceptualizing “citizenship” through obligation and cooperation. Conclusively, in both my first and second essays, I prove that I am capable of embracing complexity, a skill that will be essential in tackling difficult political issues. It will take exceptional skill to chew adverse topics such as drone-warfare and middle-eastern policy into understandable “bits” of analysis for students to read. I will have to challenge many popularly held assumptions, similar to the social constructions that I challenged in the first essay. Then, I will also have to juggle around multiple ideas – morals, economic desires, religious personalities – as I did in crafting a complex argument with “citizenship,” “class,” and “imagined communities,” in order to achieve that. The final outcome, performing a flexible and substantial method of revision, editing, and proofreading, is evident best in my first and third essays. I was told during our conference for paper number one that my essay was inadequate for achieving the goals of the class, which is to say they did not show any of the course outcomes. Upon further reflection, I realized that I was falling into the trap that you had warned us about at the very beginning of the quarter – I realized that I was analyzing literary features, such as irony, instead of the conceptual ideas of the text. For instance, in my first body paragraph of my second draft, I attempt to analyze how “William and Ellen Craft express an ironic hypocrisy of the ‘moral Christian,’” through the author’s use of ironic tone while describing a devout Christian on the train. That, however, is a literary device, and the act of “using” it is a relic of past Literature classes. As a result of substantial revision, my claim for William and Ellen Craft’s novel now close-reads how Ellen Craft critiques nineteenth-century social constructs through successfully acting as a white upper classman. This claim is inherently more complex and more in tune with the purposes of this class, because it speaks to a larger conceptual idea of “social constructions” and what the text, or novel, subtly intones about those “constructions.” Similarly, my revision of paper number three in response to a comment I made while reviewing Emily Fowler’s essay also demonstrates my development in the fourth outcome. In my first draft of The Power to Enslave Within Freedom, my analysis of Stephanie Smallwood dominated one particular paragraph of my essay, even though the primary text was The Hunger Games. In my comment to Emily, I noted how she had put her analysis of Wendy Brown all in one paragraph, and I asked her to “consider spacing out” her analysis of Wendy Brown’s theories. I explained to her that her paper would be much more effective if Wendy Brown was a repeating feature at the end of each main point that Emily made. Then, noticing the similarities, I decided to follow my own advice, and I put analysis of Stephanie Smallwood theories in conjunction with the points I was making. Then, eventually through more peer review sessions and the final conference, I found the right balance for Smallwood’s “logic of commodification,” among other ideas. Now, in the final paper, my analysis of Stephanie Smallwood’s essay occurs as strong, concise afterthoughts, such as when I refer to the phrase “logic of commodification,” or brush upon her “version

of John Locke’s philosophy.” Revision from peer reviews and personal reflection was a pivotal part in solidifying the strength of my essays – and as with any writing, it is the best way to develop. Going into the project that I have proposed, as a result of how important the fourth outcome was in the process of strengthening my essays for this class, I recognize the importance peer review will have in the writing of political expository commentary. In conclusion, it is evident in the following essays that I have developed in all four Course Outcomes. I will take these tenets that I have practiced and use them for all of my writing here at the University of Washington, specifically, of course, in implementing my plans for the Bipartisan Coalition. Not only that, but I will seek to develop beyond these basic tenets and utilize my creativity and always my constructive criticism. Sincerely, Kaleb A. Smith

Kaleb A. SmithInstructor Shon

October 15, 2012English 111

The Destabilization of 19th Century Racial and Gender Roles

In their novel, Running a Thousand Miles to Freedom: The Escape of William and Ellen Craft

from Slavery, I argue that William and Ellen Craft criticize nineteenth-century racial and gender norms

by showing that one can put on a disguise to look and act white and masculine, and therefore race and

gender are frivolous, equivocal descriptors of a person. Throughout history race and gender have been at

the forefront of societal issues. Debates about whether to allow women the right to vote or not, or whether

to ensure people of black skin-color can get equal pay under Civil Rights law or not. In the nineteenth

century, especially, diversities were categorized as polar opposites of each other – white and black, man

and woman.

Even today, in a post-modern era where both men and women have the right to vote, and people

of all skin color are treated equally under the law, race and gender still exist in controversial, divisive

issues. In terms of marriage, a person of homosexual orientation is the black slave of modernity. Women

are also commonly put in a situation where they receive less pay than a man working the exact same job.

Having read William and Ellen Craft’s escape novel, and having learned how oblique and fuzzy the

boundaries between opposites can actually be, I believe that social constructions based upon these

differences are unjustified, because you can just as easily put on a mask and pretend to be something that

you are not. I will demonstrate this, then, by analyzing important sections in the novel: one scene before

William and Ellen board their first train having exchanged and manipulated their societal roles, two

scenes where their true identities are almost discovered by people they know, and the scene in which they

confront the governmental officer who is hesitant to allow them to pass into Philadelphia.

Before entering the train, William and Ellen symbolically relinquish their marital connection, for

a time, in order to further the gender-role changes that they have enacted to escape enslavement. For

example, William Craft describes in the novel how, “We shook hands, said farewell, and started in

different directions for the railway station… but my MASTER (as I will now call my wife) took a longer

way round” (Craft 28). The two Craft’s are married in name, as their last presents, but for the duration of

their escape the narrator purposefully stops calling Ellen his “wife” and instead with the moniker,

“master,” or more often as “him” and any other male pronoun, therefore solidifying their role-reversal.

This is an ironic twist of the “gender inequality equation” commonly seen in the nineteenth-century

because the wife becomes the master, and the husband the slave. Male dominance in a relationship was a

well-known social construction of the time, so by reversing that concept because one person looks more

“white” than the other, William and Ellen Craft deconstruct that conceptual organization, and prove that

gender can be acted.

Additionally, after having entered the train Ellen Craft demonstrates how well her masculine

disguise works in making her unrecognizable to people she personally knows. In the first instance, the

cabinet-maker that works with William Craft, upon suspicion that the two slaves were making a break for

freedom, went searching for them on the train. To Craft’s disbelief, and luck, the cabinet-maker “looked

into my master’s carriage, but did not know him in his new attire” (Craft 28). In this instance, it is

explained that Mrs. Craft has manipulated her image so well that she passes distinctly as an upper-class

male in an upper-class carriage, henceforth not eliciting any special attention from the cabinet-maker. I

believe the fact that the cabinet-maker was searching for her and her husband accentuates that point; if

you were looking intently for an object that intentionally escapes you, that object has done a very good

job of deceiving you. Likewise, Ellen Craft has created an utterly deceptive image of masculinity that

escapes detection even when she is actively sought out, which shows, as I have asserted, that the

construction of a man as “looking” like a man is entirely trivial.

In a strikingly similar circumstance, William Craft’s “master” is “terror-stricken to find a Mr.

Cray – an old friend of my wife’s master, who dined with the family the day before, and knew my wife

fro childhood – sitting on the same seat,” and out of “fear that Mr. Cray might draw him into conversation

and recognize his voice, my master resolved to feign deafness as the only means of self-defense” (Craft

29). Here, Ellen Craft deceitfully manipulates her own persona to hide her identity and evade suspicion.

In one manner of persona manipulation, she manipulates her image into that of an ailing, upper-class man

by disguising her feminine image with bandages. For this reason, Mr. Cray believes her to be exactly that,

and later proceeds to talk at “him” about “the three great topics of discussion in first-class circles in

Georgia” (Craft 30). By talking about topics that are only discussed in “first-class” circles, it is even more

evident that Mr. Cray considers Ellen Craft upper class because of her disguise. In the second manner of

manipulating her persona, William’s “master” creates an identity in which “he” cannot speak, and

believably acts that out by turning “his head” as if to strain his hearing, “and with a polite bow said, ‘yes,’

and commenced looking out of the window again,” to which a gentleman said it was a “great deprivation

to be deaf” (Craft 30). I believe this situation speaks to the power of acting to make people believe what

you want them to. Ellen Craft’s performance shows how a lowly slave, considered “black” only by law,

can become an upper class, white-man. Therefore, this performance shows how a law that states that

someone is a slave because his or her mother was a slave is trivial and equivocal because a slave has

white colored skin can just act “white” to be “white” for all intensive purposes.

The final scene that demonstrates the fuzzy opposites that social constructions of race and gender

are based on is the scene in which an official that will not allow them to take the final train in their

journey towards freedom confronts William and Ellen Craft. In this tense situation, the “eagle-eyed

officer” – a threatening image that frightens the two escaping slaves – states that according to the rules he

cannot just allow “any person to take a slave” unless the officer has proof of ownership. Ellen Craft,

completely immersed in her new role, asks, “Why is that?” with “more firmness than could be expected,”

according to the narrator (Craft 45). This encounter with the official illustrates how Ellen Craft cannot

simply rely on her deceptive appearance to act like an upper class slave-owner. She must also forcefully

act out her own identity, through voice and action. Firm language, such as her later challenge to the

officer, “you have no right to detain us,” demonstrates how she acts as a substantial, argumentative man.

The fact that these exhortations are firmer “than could be expected” suggests that Ellen Craft, in her

female role, was typically tender and yielding. In her new role, however, she is no longer passive, and

assumes the same challenging tone that William Craft would if their roles had been switched. So then, as

I have repeatedly stated, the two Craft’s breaks the nineteenth century social construction of men as

masculine. If a woman can act masculine, then typifying men as masculine is trivial.

All in all, I have argued how triviality of social constructions that say men look and act

masculine, and “white folk” look white and act superior. I say this because Ellen Craft, a slave woman of

the lowest societal position in the nineteenth-century, was able to look like a man, act tough like a man, as

well as look white and act like an upper classman. As I have also mentioned briefly, it would be

interesting to analyze the social constructions that have developed in our post-modern world, such as how

people of different sexual orientation are treated because of marital norms. Through my understanding of

Running a Thousand Miles to Freedom: The Escape of William and Ellen Craft from Slavery, I say that

marital norms are as equally trivial as racial and gender mores.

Works Cited

Craft, William and Ellen. 1999 [1860]. Running a Thousand Miles to Freedom: The Escape of William

and Ellen Craft from Slavery. Introduction by Barbara McCaskill. Athens: University of Georgia Press.

Kaleb A. SmithInstructor Shon

October 31, 2012English 111

The Construction of a Common-Class Citizenship

As a sixth generation American, from ancestors of pilgrims sailing the Mayflower and Icelandic

immigrants also seeking religious sovereignty, I claim heritage to the American ideals of “Life, Liberty,

and the Pursuit of Happiness,” just as my Great-Great-Great Grandfather had done. I make this allegiance

by virtue of living in the United States and pursuing a university education. Since the budding of the

United States, we have pledged ourselves to a popular national mythos filled with thousands of stories of

sacrifice, cooperation, and people of remarkable destiny - but why? What stakes do we have in these

stories if they are not about our own successes? What makes them so popular? The best answer to this

question is that we have adopted these stories into a national philosophy – and because the lessons of

history run deep in our blood, so too does this philosophy. So as the presidential election approaches, we

must ask ourselves which candidate we believe will best represent our tried-and-true philosophy. In his

Democratic Nomination speech, for example, President Barack Obama spoke directly to the theme of

“citizenship.” I also argue that “class” is another cluster-concept that President Obama subtly refers to in

his speech, and in conjunction with Benedict Anderson’s analysis of the word in Imagined Communities,

I claim that Obama considers “citizenship” as a give-and-take idea that creates a fair, equal opportunity

for all to move up the social and economic ladder to a higher class – which I postulate is an ample

depiction of our national philosophy.

In his speech, I believe President Barack Obama emphasizes this national philosophy as a set of

“values” that made the United States a great country to work in and an even better country to live in. For

instance, he states that this election is a “fight to restore the values that built the largest middle class and

the strongest economy the world has ever known” (Obama). Obviously, these “values” are wholly

connected with “the economy” and “class,” implying that the President believes that socio-economic

success derives itself from these “values.” That is a huge claim. Obama is postulating that these “values”

are what allow health and prosperity – or in other words what is cohesively known as stability. Although

somewhat subtle, these three boons are closely related to a large middle class and strong economy. A

middle class by definition is a group of people, a class, in society that is neither rich nor poor, has a stable

lifestyle that is both healthy and not excessively but comfortably wealthy. Similarly, a strong economy is

synonymous with a healthy and wealthy nation that is willing and able to spend money and make money.

Given these connotations it is easy to follow the connections Obama is making between these “values”

and socio-economics, and socio-economic success with health and wealth.

But Obama does not just note their importance to us now; he also emphasizes the importance of

these “values” to those who lived before us. The Democratic presidential nominee exclaims to cheers and

applause that these were “values [his] grandfather defended as a soldier in Patton’s army, the values that

drove [his] grandmother to work on a bomber assembly line while [his grandfather] was gone” (Obama).

Obama undoubtedly taps into his family stories of sacrifice by joining the army and working in a bomber

assembly line in World War II to connect even further the connection between his “values” and stories of

sacrifice we dearly love. So evidently, we begin to see Obama crafting a relationship between our

national philosophy and an undisclosed set of “values” – and their benefits – in his speech. The most

important questions arising from this line of analysis are: what ideals enable and stimulate a large middle

class, strong economy, and therefore stable lifestyle?

In response, I believe President Barack Obama considers there to be values to citizenship in the

United States – or in other words, ideals that we obligingly adopt by acting as citizens of this nation.

Speaking directly to the communal understanding of citizenship, Obama claims that everyone “believe[s]

in something called citizenship… the idea that this country only works when we accept certain

obligations to one another and to future generations” (Obama). Clearly, the President defines

“citizenship” as a give-and-take idea. We take up these “obligations” for a cooperative purpose to benefit

“future generations” just as past generations have done the same. By taking, we assume the responsibility

to also give, and vice-versa. Also, by cooperating with each other now, we can benefit from each other

now as well. In a way this idea is entirely comparable to the fact that “Two heads are better than one.”

Essentially, arising from this quote come the ideas of obligation and cooperation, two values that

President Barack Obama evidently molds into his concept of “citizenship.”

Not only does he connect obligation and cooperation to citizenship, though, but Obama also

connects his notion to our national mythos and philosophy. Speaking directly about the cluster-concept he

describes “citizenship” as “a word at the very heart of our founding, a word at the very essence of our

democracy” (Obama). President Obama gives credit to the founding of our nation in creating “something

called citizenship.” He recognizes that we define this word in a particular way because we imagine we’ve

seen it practiced in that way by our forefathers. Therefore he is describing obligation and cooperation,

two values of “citizenship,” as historical artifacts that are utterly vital to this nation. Based on my

knowledge of United States history, I whole-heartedly agree that these values are a part of our “national

mythos,” and are extremely valuable to our future success as a nation. But even then, some would argue

that citizenship is not defined by an obligation to your nation and cooperation with other people. They

would consider citizenship to be a set of legal rights that a person holds and that a government must

ensure – essentially, there is no “give-and-take,” there is only “take.” I would argue that citizenship is not

always defined the same way. In fact, many countries throughout the world have a different definition of

“citizenship” than mine. However, this United States election is about what we believe is best for the

United States. I believe that Obama’s conceptualization of “citizenship” is a holistic idea because we have

a different background story than any nation in history – a background that irrefutable proves the success

of these values. Since there is historical proof – in the war factories to the Civil Rights enactment – and if

we seek a common good for all people, our obligation and cooperation with the people and government of

the United States is the best way to achieve it.

It is the correlation between Obama’s theory of citizenship and our national philosophy that leads

me to understand and concur with President Obama on his conceptualization of “citizenship.” Throughout

our history classes, have we not heard of the obligation General George Washington felt to his rebelling

states? Have we not heard about the responsibility Abraham Lincoln felt to his divided nation? Have we

not heard stories of the cooperative effort that brought the United States out of Civil War, the Great

Depression, and World War II? Indeed we have. We know from more than 200 years of experience that

obligation and cooperation – and the “give-and-take” conceptualization of citizenship – are essential

values for our nations success no matter past, present, or future. Just as President Obama states it, “we

understand that this democracy is ours” – this nation is ours, and it rises and falls as our sense of

obligation and cooperation rise and fall.

Subsequently after conceptualizing citizenship, President Barack Obama associates the concept with the

ideology of class mobility. Similar to citizenship as “give-and-take,” the President describes a “basic

bargain” in which “everyone gets a fair shot and everyone does their fair share and everyone plays by the

same rules” (Obama). As we see, Obama’s definition of “citizenship” is fixed within this idea of a “basic

bargain” as it says that people do “their fair share.” Taking this, and the fact that “fair” is repeated, we

deduce that the Democratic Nominee is theorizing that “citizenship” is a common entity among all

classes, and it’s purpose is to put the poor, the middle class, and the wealthy, on the same plane in the

same game. Even further, I believe Obama claims this “game” is a competition of opportunity, and since

all classes are on the same plane, it follows that all classes have equal, “fair” opportunity. For example,

further in his speech the President provides a “national mythos-type” story where he claims that we all

“believe the little girl who’s offered an escape from poverty by a great teacher or a grant for college could

become the next Steve Jobs…” (Obama). This “rags-to-riches” image that Obama draws makes clear the

connection between opportunity and class mobility. This “little girl,” can “escape from poverty” with the

help of other people, in the form of a “great teacher” or “grant.” Cooperation, and therefore Obama’s

concept of citizenship, appears clearly in his idea of opportunity as a part of class mobility. It is also very

clear that Obama considers education to be the largest part of opportunity, since he also states, “Education

was the gateway to opportunity for me” to cheers of agreement (Obama). All in all, Obama postulates that

the upper classes should be accessible via our role as citizens of the United States.

In relation to Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities, I assert that President Barack Obama

creates an “imagined community” based on citizenship that is fluid in allowing the impoverished to

become successful and lead a stable life. Anderson, for instance, analyzed how print-capitalism spurred

the creation of these fictitious yet real things we call “nations” by tapping into the potential readership

body of the vernacular languages. Through these “common languages,” the common people could

participate in communities of political and philosophical discussion that stimulated the creation of a

community mindset, and finally a governmental and cultural embodiment of that community (Anderson

26). In a similar fashion, Obama’s definition of “citizenship” as being held by all people, of all classes in

the United States, works to create a community mindset of values, especially of obligation and

cooperation, which construes a system where success and stability are accessible by all of those citizens.

In conclusion, I am in agreement with President Barack Obama concerning his conceptualization

of “citizenship” and its role in developing class mobility. I agree that “citizenship” is a construction of

values, especially those of obligation and cooperation, which creates opportunities of success for every

American; and I support the idea of creating an imagined community around citizens of the United States.

This is a difficult, complex road for many reasons, though. Problems arise when we become distracted

from our obligations, and we lose our ability to cooperate with others. If I were to analyze this topic

further, I would try to understand what distracts us from these values. In any case, though, supporting

these ideas is first step in truly enacting them, which is the ultimate goal.

Works Cited

Anderson, Benedict R. "Cultural Roots." Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of

Nationalism. London: Verso, 1991. 25-30. Print.

Obama, President Barack. "Transcript: President Obama's Convention Speech." Democratic Nomination

Convention. Charlotte Convention Center, Charlotte. 29 Nov. 2012. Speech.

<http://www.npr.org/2012/09/06/160713941/transcript-president-obamas-convention-speech>

Kaleb A. SmithInstructor Shon

November 19, 2012English 111

The Power to Enslave Within Freedom Throughout The Hunger Games, it is evident that Suzanne Collins envisioned the country of

Panem as a sort of post-apocalyptic America. If this is the case, then the novel is a critique of the America

we have today. I believe the novel subtly shows this in the domains of economic and political power that

the Capitol demonstrates over the Districts and their people in order to say that freedom is a product of

the system that governs us, and we can be oppressed without even realizing or acknowledging the fact.

Slavery and freedom are often discussed as a paradox, a seemingly contradictory set of social, economic,

and political realities. Underlying this paradox is another, the power paradox that, in history and

literature, explains how we can claim to have power over some aspects of our lives, while at the same

time the reality is that in other, important aspects of our lives, we are powerless. In the example of slavery

and freedom, a slave had the freedom to attempt at escape, he had that choice, but that does not mean he

had the freedom to survive, because any African slave was subject to ridicule and repeated enslavement

by the law. Stephanie Smallwood analyzes this domain in her journal article called, “Commodified

Freedom”, to the point where she comes to the conclusion that slavery is a natural byproduct of a

capitalistic economic system by virtue of “commodification,” a term used by Smallwood to describe the

process of how human person can be discursively thought of as a commodity and controlled by a larger

system. Suzanne Collins popular novel, The Hunger Games, provides a striking analogy to Stephanie

Smallwood’s line of analysis. If the Panem represents this larger system, with the Capitol at the center,

the Districts and the people can be comparatively thought of as slaves to the Capitol, as I will argue. In

light of this comparison, we can also make connections to the subtle ways in which we are held in

subjectivity, providing even more importance to this line of inquiry.

In The Hunger Games, Katniss and Peeta provide us with the only insights on the mental conflicts

that tributes feel entering the Hunger Games, but the analogy begins with the relationship between the

Districts and the Capitol, and this relationship outlines how freedom is a product of the Capitol’s control.

Freedom is a completely different entity in the nation of Panem than the freedom defined through

epistemological theorizing in contemporary thought, such as in Stephanie Smallwood’s version of John

Locke’s philosophy that emphasizes putting the individual above the larger community (Smallwood 296).

In the dystopian case of Panem, the comparative advantage of market commodity production drives the

categorization of so called “Districts.” District 12 is a mining district, for example, because of the

geological presence of valuable minerals compared to other areas of the continent Panem. Thus, the

reality of a districts economic circumstance is determined by the market value of their geographically

advantageous product. Smallwood would have called this categorization part of the “logic of

commodification” (Smallwood 292) Their resource geography justifies the process through which

districts become “Districts,” just as commodification seems to subtly justify a “social or quantified labor

power” – or in other terms, slavery. In a further demonstration of this point, Katniss describes how the

higher numbered Districts, 10, 11, and 12, are the poorest of the Districts by virtue of their industry

specialties, livestock, agriculture, and mining, respectively. As a result, the kids of these Districts must

accept more “Tessera” – tokens for grain that increase their chances of being selected as a tribute – from

the Capitol. This process “commodifies” the people of the Districts just as comparative advantage does

because they are essentially selling themselves to the Capitol for sustenance. A logical conclusion of this

line of thinking is that the Districts are essentially slaves to the Capitol on the scale of the nation, and the

process through which this enslavement occurs is purely economic.

Comparative advantage is one driving force of this categorization, but Katniss describes another: the

Hunger Games. She decries how the Capitol “[Takes] the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one

another while we watch,” and explains how “This is the Capitol’s way of reminding us how totally we are

at their mercy” (Collins 18). The critical word in this description is “mercy.” There exists a forced

relationship between the people of each District and their obligation to participate in the “Games” when

they are of a certain age. The people are at the “mercy” of the Capitol while the Capitol states that it is

being “merciful,” therefore creating a paradoxical nature of the word “mercy” and the way its used in an

adjective form. How is being at someone’s mercy merciful? The answer: the seemingly immense power

of the Capitol is “mercifully” restrained to the Games as a justification for their control over them. The

fact that they need to be controlled, arising from their earlier revolt against the Capitol, underscores the

relationship of distrust and fear the citizens of the districts have for the Capitol. But not just that, the

Hunger Games also stimulates animosity between Districts – which is arguably the most important aspect

of the Hunger Games for controlling the Districts. This theory seems to be a critique of freedom in the

United States, and how it is defined through and inconsistent relationship with the nation. Some

comparisons can be made. The economic forces driving the “districting” of Districts in Panem relates to

the theory of the role capitalism had in driving the imagining of nations. So essentially, we discover that

Districts are created, imagined into being, by their necessity to the Capitol for their comparative

advantage, as well as the subjection of people to work and produce the products that go to the Capitol.

Bringing it all together, the necessity of the Districts because the Capitol cannot take care of itself is the

reason for the “merciful” treatment of their citizens.

For Katniss, her conflict of interest comes from the idea that she may win the Hunger Games –

but her newfound “freedom” would play directly into the Capitol’s control, and she would paradoxically

not be free in that sense. At first, though, she is in awe of the fact that she might win the games and go

home “to fame. To wealth. To my own house in the Victor's Village. My mother and Prim would live

there with me. No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom” (Collins 310). This quote speaks to the

idea of freedom and the idea of identity. At first reading, it seems that these two ideas are intertwined by

Katniss in some way. First, she considers what a “new kind of freedom” would be. To her it would be

“fame” and “wealth.” So she recognizes that there is a difference between the type of freedom she held

before the games (the more personal freedom to quietly dissent), and the type of freedom she could hold

afterwards. The question I ask is this: does she see this “new freedom” as a progression from her old

freedom – sort of like how we typify the slave-to-free stories? To me it seems like she is doing this, which

speaks to the idea – in a similar parallelism to the slave narrative – that winning the Hunger Games, for

Katniss, offers a glimmer of hope for a “new freedom” – an actualized liberation that is actually

liberating. However, subsequently after she thinks of the fame and wealth she could have, she asks, “But

then…what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the

acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares

me some” (Collins 310). So, in this new situation she would have a completely new identity. She would

no longer be Katniss the Hunter, a persona that was borne from her dissent against the Capitol by hunting

in the forests. Katniss’ identity would be utterly determined by the Capitol. Her winning puts her on top

of the pedestal, the pinnacle of what the Capitol wants people to look up to, the abiding citizen that the

Capitol wants, because if someone from District 12 can win the Hunger Games, than anyone from District

12 can and they can have the same type of “freedom.” If this supposition is true, than I would consider

desire to be a form of coercion by the Capitol.

Yet Katniss, though she is tempted by that dream, maintains her personal freedom above her desired

freedom and takes every chance she can to dissent against the Capitol through a number of symbolic

gestures, such as dressing Rue in flowers after she was killed. So it is possible that the type of freedom

begets a specific identity, and it’s that truth that the Capitol is playing with, but also that Katniss is

resisting. We as Americans can also reflect upon what freedom’s we sacrifice willingly to the bodies that

governs us, and what tension arises from it.

Also, Peeta describes a conflict of interest that enlightens how the relationship between Capitol

and District begets a dreary form of freedom that borders on chattel slavery. Peeta’s mental tension comes

from this desire to survive and his desire to maintain his humane identity. When pressed by Katniss, Peeta

explains that “when the time comes, I’m sure I’ll kill just like everybody else…Only I keep wishing I

could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their

Games” (Collins 142). Peeta is a civilized, compassionate person. Given any circumstance outside of

survival, he could not bring himself to kill anyone or possibly anything. But within the framework of the

Games, he acknowledges the primeval survival instincts that will bring him to kill – which is exactly what

the Capitol wants. In relation to Smallwood, he subjects himself to the games by playing them, by killing

to survive, and in that way becomes a slave to the Capitol’s system of control. Slaves, likewise, had to

subject themselves to systems of oppression in order to survive because, in the antebellum south where

they were unfamiliar to the language and culture, Africans had little means for surviving on their own. To

Peeta, the Games represent that conflict of interest; of not giving the Capitol the pleasure of proving their

ownership over him in death, but also having sovereignty over himself in survival. To put it another way,

Peeta does not want to live while he is under the control of the Capitol, but he also does not want death to

be his only choice. So in the end, Peeta concedes to the Capitol, stating, “When the time comes, I’m sure

I’ll kill just like everybody else. I can’t go down without a fight.” He acknowledges the fact that we will

have to play the games, because Peeta believes the harsh reality of his inclination to survive will

supersede his desire to not do what the Capitol wants. Conclusively, in history and in the Hunger Games,

that which governs has the political power to create the definitions of freedom that become our own.

Henceforth, as we reflect upon our lives, Peeta offers up a valuable context for determining whether or

not we are sacrificing our freedom in order to survive.

Katniss and Peeta both have conflicts of interest bringing them to be “pieces in the Capitol’s

Games” while they are pulled back to represent their sovereignty over themselves, however within the

framework set by the Capitol, “resistance is futile.” Katniss fought between her desire for safety and her

desire for purpose and meaning. Peeta fought between his desire for survival and his desire for personal

sovereignty. But the Capitol governs every aspect of their lives, and every lives of the District, and

through Katniss and Peeta’s consent (the act of playing games) they acknowledge the Capitol’s control.

However, the idea of subtle rebellion shakes this framework up, but it would require further analysis of

how freedom is defined in this new paradigm. Through this analysis, it is evident that the Hunger Games

is a subtle critique of the post-modern world, and the question arises, how are we slaves to the system,

and what subtle rebellion can we enact?

Works Cited

Collins, Suzanne. The Hunger Games. New York: Scholastic, 2008. Print.

Smallwood, Stephanie. "Commodified Freedom: Interrogating the Limits of Anti-Slavery Ideology in the

Early Republic." Journal of the Early Republic (2004): 289-98. Web.