Adam Tarsia

Prof. Nicoludis

Reflection Essay

12/14/20

As I reflect on my first semester of college, I am somewhat disappointed in my initial experience as a student, however I cannot help but be thankful for the good health my family and myself have had. Some classes dragged on and were difficult to engage with, but in some, I was able to take away some genuine knowledge. I feel that due to this class’s content especially, my writing organization skills have grown significantly. The practice I have had throughout the drafting process of my four essays this semester has helped me develop in nearly all aspects as a writer, however, I have noticed the most improvement in my ability to thoroughly plan, organize and write a paper efficiently.

    The first essay of my career at CCNY, the Personal Narrative paper, was an introduction to many of the methods we used over the course of the semester in this class. Preceded by some various activity or reading-based assignments, the Personal Narrative was the first piece of writing that became a true focal point of the semester. On my first draft of the essay, I lost sight of a concise delivery, providing overwhelming description of the setting in lieu of support for my claim, and became unsure of the goal I set out to accomplish with the paper. However, the questions and constructive criticism of my classmates in the breakout room sessions helped facilitate my ability to thoroughly negotiate a goal for the piece, which was to explain the impact of Sunken Meadow State Park on my life. Through their help I was able to formulate a clear thesis and better tie back in my description-based storytelling to the main theme of the paper. Moving forward in the semester as a writer, I made it a priority to formulate a clear thesis for my papers and identify concrete evidence to explain my point, which I heavily emphasized in my Op-Ed paper as well.

    Writing the Op-Ed was a fun experience, as the more I researched and organized my evidence, the more I opened my own eyes to the real-world consequences and scale of the argument I was constructing about influencers’ true importance in America’s political landscape. I enhanced my strategies for planning through the proposal, right away making sure to map out an articulate stance on the topic and supporting it by roughly providing some of the scenarios I would later describe as evidence in my essay in a sort of “roadmap”. I practiced searching the internet to find the numbers that would incongruously prove those rough scenarios as evidence of my thesis through location of the right articles, statistics and videos, strengthening my ability to integrate multiple sources and present them to the reader in a creative manner. I enjoyed drawing on the statistics I made to create a streamlined, logical argument for my point, and once again, with the help of my classmates in the group sessions, I was able to pare down the overly verbose introduction I had in my first draft. From this paper, I learned that I feel my writing style suits an argumentative essay best, and tried to model my following two proposals and essays after an argumentative essay.

My Critical Analysis proposal for Blonde by Frank Ocean took hours to compose, and with that practice, I was able to significantly progress in my source use strategies for organizing evidence into a coherent paper. First, I listened to and engaged in analysis of the album for like the 20th time, jotting down formulated opinions throughout which eventually turned into my thesis. Next, I used a combination of evidence from the album as well as outside sources that supported the thesis and wrote down which themes to tie the evidence into, accomplishing my goal and creating a clear vision of Blonde to provide for the reader to experience. In comparison to my other essays, I did not have to shed as much material from the paper after expanding on my “roadmap”, as I consciously avoided rambling and kept my point as concise as possible. The only edits suggested by classmates and Professor N. to my draft were cleaning up my MLA formatting, speaking to my progress as a writer this semester as well as my improvement in planning/organizing a concise essay. Through the analysis, I was also able to gain a deeper appreciation for something I thought I already appreciated a lot, which is pretty special.

    For this essay, I have drawn from all the strategies I have used previously on the other papers. I negotiated clear goals in the roadmap document my classmates helped me develop and made sure to tie the points back to my development through accomplishment of the class goals without excessive word use, especially in formulation of an articulate plan for my paper. I feel that the small group meetings definitely helped me improve the most as an essay writer, maybe because they were an inkling of that class interaction I have missed so much and I was always very enthusiastic to talk to others. During review of classmates’ papers, I was definitely overwhelmingly constructive and tried to acknowledge their range of linguistic differences in order to make better suggestions for their papers, but it was tough understanding everyone’s real abilities without getting to really know them. Here’s to hoping for a little bit more ability to interact with everyone come February.

I know that this class has significantly improved my abilities as a writer this semester, and going forward, I’ll definitely use what I learned here in any class that requires creative writing. I enjoyed the writing, but I also enjoyed the synchronous section meetings. The content was always engaging and the class was definitely a little bit of relief from some of my more technical and boring lectures. Thank you Professor N. for making the rough semester Fall 2020 has been a little bit more enjoyable!

Adam Tarsia

Prof. Nicoludis

Eng 21001 Section D

12/8/2020

Following the release of Channel Orange, legendary artist Frank Ocean’s debut LP, and a four-year silence, 2016 saw the release of Ocean’s second album, “Endless”, in the format of a video livestream. “Endless” was the final LP required by his Def Jam contract, and upon his contract fulfillment, Ocean was able to distribute an album as a completely independent artist. Now unbound by the sometimes draconian creative requirements of a label, as an independent artist he now held complete artistic freedom over his own work. From that artistic freedom, the most highly anticipated and deeply personal album of Ocean’s career, Blonde, was born. Wasting no time, Ocean released Blonde the day after Endless. The genre blending LP provides highly expressive insight into many of the experiences and themes Channel Orange dealt with, albeit in a conscious, explicit stream of self- expression a label-restricted album could not have. Blonde is the purest manifestation of the conceptual album, a thematically streamlined masterpiece exploring sexuality, masculinity, materialism, fame and race through the dual lens of his own deeply personal experiences as both a perpetrator and victim of circumstances created by those issues. Untainted by corporate greed, Ocean transcends his title as a musician on Blonde and fulfills his vision as a true artist. 

    The very first impression of the album upon the audience is that of the cover. Leaving no room for artistic significance unscathed, Ocean makes a statement by providing an alternate spelling of the LP title, substituting “Blonde” for “Blond”, and including a band-aid on his finger. Here he introduces the dual lens the album is conveyed through, and chooses his masculinity as the focal point of the duality. By drawing contrast to the title’s true feminine connotation, Ocean chooses to highlight the masculine connotation of “Blond”. Exacerbating this sharp contrast is the band-aid on Ocean’s index finger, an allusion to the fight he got into with ex-labelmate Chris Brown, in which Ocean sustained a cut to his index finger, as well as his temple, which he is covering in the album art. This subtle reference harks back to his masculinity as well, as he was referred to as a “f****t” during the fight (TMZ.com). Evidently Ocean feels as though his queerness has alienated him from fellow male, African-American musicians, even those signed to his label. He chooses to “cover” the album with expressions of masculinity in a symbolic embodiment of the manly “shell” he feels he must wear at times as an openly gay man (Thankyous, Tumblr) in order to fit in with not just society, but those who should be his closest peers.

“Nikes” serves as a proper segway into the album, a tranquilizing ballad through which Frank tells a story in two contrasting voices, which he refers to as “different versions of himself” (qtd. in Caramanica). Echoed through his affirmation, “I got two versions” in the video version of the song, this storytelling perspective shift is the album’s first flirtation with duality. The pitched up vocals of the initial verse gloss over materialism, oscillating between Ocean’s perspective and that of a “mermaid”, his drug dealing cousin’s girlfriend. The album’s first line, “these b****es want Nikes” (Nikes 0:20-0:30), amongst other references to jewelry and drugs, signify Ocean’s observations of the designer-obsessed LA party culture he spent years engulfed in, a critique of those he surrounded himself by. The video version of the track also accompanies the “mermaid” portion of the verse with a visual of a young woman writhing around in a tank of water (hence the “mermaid”), seemingly struggling to escape (Lebon 00:01:53-00:02:15) . This potent visual symbolizes the “mermaid”’s trajectory of life, aimlessly floating around, desperate to escape the hopelessly superficial lifestyle and relationship she finds herself in. However, a few lines in the verse iterate Ocean’s own obsession with the material, such as the stanza revolving around “just like you, just like me” (Nikes 0:50 -1:30). He reflects on the duality of his personal experiences with the material through a critique of his past self and others before switching to the unpitched, jaded, more conscious voice of his current self (Nikes 3:00-5:15). The video mirrors the perspective switch, shifting from rapid-fire hazy shots to more lucid and streamlined cinematography depicting both him singing, as well as what he sings about in the verse, representing his now active awareness of the consequences of the lifestyle he leads. Whereas the themes remain similar to that of the first half, the second half of Nikes reaffirms Ocean’s clear recognition of his own present involvement in the culture he so critiques.

Succeeding, “Nikes”, the following tracks from “Ivy” to “Good Guy” recall some of the same themes, however most dominant is the recollection of multiple heartbreaks. Heartbreak manifests itself in several forms throughout this important point of the album, ranging from the both sonically and lyrically distorted nostalgia of “Ivy”, ridden with gut-wrenching and self-critical remembrances such as “I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me”, to the concise, remorseful chords of “Good Guy”, a story about mutual lack of intimacy. Ocean presents himself as he was in the moment of a tumultuous heartbreak in “Pink + White”, a Beyoncé-backed piece revolving around multiple allusions to violent weather. Whereas other artists oftentimes share only their side of heartbreak in their art, Ocean assumes a more realistic standpoint of the roles he played in the respective heartbreaks he writes about, from assuming full culpability throughout “Ivy” to admitting some things just aren’t meant to be on “Self Control” with lines such as “wish we’d grown up on the same advice/And our time was right” (Self Control 0:43-0:50). This down-to-earth speaking position from Frank conveys his acceptance of the duality of heartbreak he has experienced. As the famous proverb goes, “it takes two”. In the latter part of the heartbreak portion, the songs’ production style hint at that of the album’s later tracks, replacing the bouncy, heavily instrumental sound in lieu of a more minimalist vibe. As Frank indicates progression past the depths of wallowing loneliness he describes on “Solo”, a song spun around the double entendre between “solo”/”so low”, and mends his heart over the last few tracks, the first half of “Nights” follows Ocean as he happily ponders about an ex aloud over a loose, light beat. Artfully capturing the essence of a late night drive, the track’s first half is the only song on the album thus far to not feature pitched up vocals or ad-libs of any kind, symbolically representing his coherent, content, unconflicted stream of consciousness.

At exactly 30 minutes in to the album, a penetrating guitar refrain precedes a beat switch which divides “Nights”, as well as the rest of the LP. The album’s switch in tone from this crucial point mirrors that of “Nikes”, in that the romanticized sentimentality filtering Frank’s thoughts has worn off, emphasizing the duality so prominent throughout the work. Accompanying the beat switch, the general production style of the album transmutes itself into an ambient, contemplative sound. For the most part, discernible instruments melt away as heavily warped versions of themselves and atmospheric synths take their place. Although the predominant voice of the second half of Blonde is that of Ocean’s current self, he makes no appearance at all on its first track. Frank makes the meticulous choice of André 3000 on “Solo (Reprise)”, who spits a tongue-twisting verse in his signature style over raw, emotional piano chords. 3000 was one half of one of the most critically acclaimed duos in hip hop history, OutKast, further contributing to the duality of Blonde, and speaks to the gradual disillusionment he experienced over the course of his storied career. André rants about the corrupt music industry, materialism, rampant and meaningless sexuality, the normalization of police brutality and addiction as he tells the story of his journey, ultimately landing on the question “was I working just way too hard?” (Solo (Reprise) 0:58-1:03) . 

Ocean resumes on the following tracks, examining the superficiality of his life through mentions of past relationship experiences before coming to terms with his sexuality as well as rejecting the authenticity of the “American Dream”. The very themes he spent so long experiencing the effects of, perpetrating and critiquing have now consumed him, sonically indicating the duality of his own turbulent mind as Ocean’s vocals are washed over by trancelike, minimalistic instrumentals. On “Godspeed”, he breaks out of his trance with a powerful vocal delivery reminiscent of that of a gospel singer, coming to the realization that sometimes, it’s just okay to let go and move on. A common cadence (2-chord progression that concludes a musical phrase) employed in religious choir music, the “plagal cadence”, is used throughout the track, before ultimately concluding on a “perfect authentic cadence”, a cadence commonly associated with perfect resolve. The outro is sung by Kim Burrell, a renowned gospel singer, further contributing to the gospel motif in the song. The track’s ending signifies Frank’s ultimate acceptance of all the events documented on Blonde, comparable to that of the ultimate acceptance of faith in God gospel music often refers to. Continuing the theme of letting go on “Futura Free”, the final track of the album, Frank looks ahead to the future. Reflecting on his career so far, he decides that in spite of his race, modest beginnings, mortality, and sexuality, he still feels lucky to be where he is in the present moment. Referencing his fight with Chris Brown again, Ocean shrugs the altercation off and takes responsibility for the consequences of his own masculinity. The track ends with one of Ocean’s friends asking “how far is a light year?” (Futura Free 9:03-9:05). The length of a light year is 9.4×10^12 km, and “Futura Free” clocks in at 9.4 minutes exactly.

Regardless of one’s opinion of his music, Frank Ocean’s masterful artistry is irrefutably illustrated on Blonde. The lens of duality he presents all the issues he scrutinizes through transcends his songwriting, encompassing all aspects of the album’s existence and even his own life. Ocean’s music not only imitates the thematic patterns that have followed him throughout his life and that he has learned to document so well, but as one adage presents it, his life “imitates” the art itself in a cyclic pattern of its own. While Ocean has not released an official LP for over four years now, which may appear as an extensive wait, unpacking and truly understanding all the thematic content and lore surrounding Blonde alone could take a lifetime. Hopefully, sometime in the near future, a student will get the chance to write about Ocean’s next album through an even greater “Lens” of their own.

An election of historic proportions is taking place right now. As early polling and mail-ins have been opened to record turnouts, the political scene is as active as ever, and for the first time in history, social media will play the most central role in the outcome of a presidential election. While it is only natural for those with a dominant internet presence to hold influence over mainstream opinion, American voters should also be wary of the extreme dangers of referring solely to pop culture to formulate an individual opinion on politics. These celebrity “influencers” should feel responsible to educate their audiences on the issues at stake during times of election. After all, the platforms they use to entertain their followings- Twitter, TikTok, Instagram- all grant the ability to convey any message, at any instant, to millions of fans. This vast reach grants “influencers” the power to determine the outcome of the election, and they have clearly done so already. 

To be truly aware of the potential threat that pop culture can pose to democracy, one must consider the unique situation of Nazi Germany. Hitler’s most effective weapon during his rise to power and under his rule was none other but an extensive department of propaganda. Media such as films, posters, books, and comics employed by the Nazi regime are the reason an entire country with a population of millions was able to despicably unite against observers of the Jewish religion. The vast majority of Nazi propaganda served the purpose of vilifying Jewish citizens, and more emphatically, glorifying Hitler. The volume of his repugnant, nauseating crimes was only matched by that of his celebrity. When pop culture is invariably dominated by certain ideals, be it in the realm of beauty or racial politics, the majority of consumers tend to accept those ideals as simple truths or standards. In some ways, this change can be beneficial, however, evidenced by one of the worst genocides in human history, domination of mainstream culture by certain common beliefs can also prove catastrophic. 

In 2020, as aforementioned, “influencers” who entertain hundreds of millions of fans hold undisputed governance of the media industry. In 1939, the population of Nazi Germany was 79 million. Ariana Grande has 204 million Instagram followers. Unsurprisingly, the industry has experienced multiple paradigm shifts in accordance with her varying approach to music. Others with comparable followings have all had similar influences on their own respective sectors. Billion-dollar industries bend and fluctuate to best satisfy the overwhelming buying power of these social media moguls’ gargantuan fanbases, so evidently their immensity must be impactful enough to make a mark on the political landscape, right? It would appear so.

On September 28, Kylie Jenner posted a picture imploring her followers to vote, linking a registration tool in her profile. According to The Huffington Post, a spokesperson for the website reported a 1500% increase in usage of the tool to register. Following Jenner’s post, a wave of others followed suit. In previous elections, Oprah’s endorsement of Obama’s presidential campaign was most comparable to the amount of celebrity “influencer” activism today. However, as apps like TikTok and Instagram have become the norm over daytime talk shows, a younger, larger, more connected, and more politically involved generation has become the primary consumer of culture. Make no mistake, the incredible clout “influencers” possess has already affected the election, as according to The Washington Post, record early voting turnouts have already broken the total for all early voting in 2016 nationwide by several million. The fact that this year, voting is occurring during a global pandemic where going out for anything period is at an all-time low, only makes those numbers even more of an anomaly. Now as the obvious effect of “influencer culture” can be observed in politics, American “influencers” have a responsibility to make sure they exercise their rights in an accountable manner. On the more reckless side of the spectrum, some, such as Tana Mongeau, who boasts a whopping 5 million Instagram followers, have participated in illegal vote-buying, like her one-day #bootyforbiden event. During this questionable venture, Mongeau promised to send followers a “booty pic” through her OnlyFans in exchange for a picture of their ballot indicating a vote for Joe Biden. She later remarked that she had received “tens of thousands” of OnlyFans messages indicating a ballot vote for Biden in a single day. According to U.S News, the closest state vote margin in the 2016 election took place in the “swing state” of Michigan, where the difference was 13,080 votes. 8 of the 10 closest state margins were less than 100,000.

While Mongeau’s stunt may have had significant enough of an impact to win over several states, she will be facing zero repercussions. Due to the large volume and inherent anonymity of the activity taking place in her scheme, her effect on the election is untraceable. While 5M followers is an impressive number, it pales in comparison to the 200 million of the top 5 most followed celebrities on Instagram. When multiplied to scale, the average potential votes drawn in by the top 10 most followed “influencers” on Instagram would be a minimum of ~370,000 each and a maximum of ~3,650,000 each in a single day, in the case of a similar campaign to Mongeau’s. Hillary Clinton lost the 2016 election by around 2,800,000 votes. The maximum combined average potential votes from the top 10 “influencers” aforementioned would be around 40,000,000 in a single day. The total number of votes counted in the 2016 election nationwide was 60,000,000. Needless to say, the power of democracy truly lies in the hands of these “influencers”.

Americans are and have been facing dire times in the past few years from reckless national leadership, to extensive wildfires caused by climate change, to a police brutality epidemic, to a viral global pandemic. We must seek to replace leadership how we see fit in the tumultuous present and stand with those we trust in unity for what we believe in. However, we also need to remember the cautionary tale of Nazi Germany’s elections in the wake of their own troubles and be wary of wicked men who disguise themselves as saints. It is crucial to stay informed by reliable sources before making decisions, and not choose leaders solely based on a pop culture craze.

    November 8, 2019. The Section XI State Qualifier meet. The Suffolk County championship race. My last cross country race wearing a Miller Place uniform. The team arrives at Sunken Meadow State Park, ready for the race. This could be our last one together, ever. Me and my teammates, my friends, my second family. Our thoughts fixate on the championship. The usual, tensely effervescent atmosphere before any important battle draws us all into the present while permitting just enough collective anxiety for us to remember our purpose for the day, the hour, and now the nineteen minutes ahead of us. As I approach the starting line one last time, nervous and determined, I take everything in. One last breath. I cling to the instant like a splinter on a sweater. I love this team and I love this sport, but most importantly, I love this place. Sunken Meadow has always been there, constant every fall, through changing teammates and girlfriends and PRs and weight and life lessons. This is the place that has raised me for the past four years, the past four seasons, and there I stand in athletic stance; nostalgic, reminiscing, and ready to traverse its winding, awesome, beautiful path one last time. Without the path ahead of me, without the park surrounding me, I would not be the person I am today. However, many of the moments during cross country that were most crucial in forging my identity did not happen during the few minutes of a race, but rather in the time I spent growing up in the surrounding environment of Sunken Meadow.

Sunken Meadow is a moment in time, flash frozen in ethereal autumnal pulchritude. I have never seen it during any other season, and I hope I never have to. The chilly, 38 degree breezy weather accentuates the perpetual rustling and crunching of frosty, russet oak leaves on the way to the “secret bathrooms”. Rosy noses and fluttering stomachs make their way through all the usual motions, all the pre-race rituals and pertinent routines. Our team strolls in stride past the flat areas as runners from Smithtown and Harborfields begin their warm-ups, crossing paths with a bit of mostly passive yet intensely curious side-eye. Everything is in constant motion at Sunken Meadow, and as pebbles roll a few paces ahead of my team across the asphalt parking lot, the surrounding coliseum of red-tinted woodland is swayed by the breeze. Even the wind is itching to put on a performance, swirling baby leaf tornadoes at our feet. Chain-link fence surrounds the area, the torn holes a tunnel to another world entirely. Through them we can see buses arriving, traversing a journey of their own over the river, racing to escort hopeful runners to a race of their own. As my team exits the parking lot and follows the still-asphalt path up the hill ahead of us, our world widens. Expansive meadows stretch for about a mile in each direction, peppered with trees stripped bare. The beaten, sandy 5k course we all know so well lay in front of us in a rare semicircle, concealing the true nature of the course. Unruly, eccentric twists and turns taunt us behind our backs, yet we remain unfazed on our path towards the building, our “secret bathroom”, on the hill. As we draw closer, memories flash by in my head. That tree to the left takes me back to Division Championships freshman year when I took a hilarious picture of my favorite seniors failing to climb it. Despite the best attempts of me and Riverhead’s entire JV team my sophomore year, that log on the right hasn’t been moved since the day I first saw it. Lessons of triumph and failure and friendship follow so many of those memories closely behind, pacific waves succeeding each other before crashing onto the shore of my mind and receding to that which they came from. These evocations, all so lucid and overwhelming, surround and encapsulate the building like an aura, a powerful aura of nostalgia and emotion intertwined with my soul. 

On our way back, the path is crowded now. Amongst a fall festival of vibrant jerseys, our warmup begins. We trek across the old timber bridge, over the river, and to the starting area. The 800 meter long, 200 runner wide zone to the left stands in stark contrast to the bus lot to the right. However, we see past both, and pass by to the boardwalk. Sunken Meadow holds such strong importance in the world of cross country that it is hard to believe it is actually a state park/beach sometimes, but on the boardwalk the two worlds collide. Elderly couples trudging at a painfully slow tempo bundled in scarves fluttering rapidly in rhythm with the howling, freezing wind juxtapose the young athletes in sleeveless tank uniforms racing down the mile long stretch. Beyond them lay rocky north shore sand spilling into the cool blue expanse of the Sound. We march in unison towards the little pocket on the edge of the boardwalk with an oak-carved map of the seemingly endless body of water. It is about halfway down, covered by a roof and has little benches. This spot is our spot. We finish the first half of our warmup there and begin to stretch. It dawns on me that without realizing it, I have stretched here for every single race I have ever competed in. Other teams may have had faster runners than us, but we had a special way of making things our own, finding little ways to etch our niche into the park and sport as a whole. Ways that brought us closer to the nature around us, to becoming one with it. You forget that your race is in 40 minutes, and the sparsely dusted leaves around you, the foamy shore in front of you, the Ipe wood beneath your feet, and the naked trees, battered by the breeze behind your back, become your home. Instead of heading back to the bus, we stride towards the far end of the parking lot, where we leave the world of man behind and make our way up the creek, nearing the edge of state territory and almost to the edge of the sound. There, we say a prayer to “Neil Rickenbacker”. I like to think of Neil as the essence of Sunken Meadow, incarnate, personified. It is a silly tradition implemented my freshman year, nonetheless a tradition I have grown to love. I still remember visiting back then with the upperclassmen that have served as my role models, showed me my favorite songs, helped me through my darkest times, and won my first meets with. While I say my final words in the “prayer”, I thank Sunken Meadow for an incredible career and final season alongside my brother and a team I love. All the moments in between runs spent traversing its vast terrain and having philosophical conversations with friends, cracking jokes, and listening to all the annual aux playlists I have made, playlists that have reflected my personality at those times so well. I thank Sunken Meadow, the perennial background that has taught me quite a bit about running, but far, far more about myself.

As the race begins, I feel the best I have ever felt. I am presently aware and feel myself become the picturesque course around me, an unspeakable feeling, an emotion, a sixth sense. As I pass the familiar landmarks of the course, Snake Hill, the moat along the creek, the open meadow past the secret bathrooms, nationally-dreaded, and ever-sandy Cardiac Hill, I recall so many of the memories so key to my identity and development made at those exact spots. They fuel me to the fastest I have ever run, and as I approach the final open stretch one last time, I leave just enough of them behind so that the Meadow remembers me just as I remember it. I feel as much a part of Sunken Meadow as it is of me. I pass the finishing line to the pleasure of one last PR on the LCD display and give my coach a big hug. I look around and feel content in the moment of my final farewell to Sunken Meadow. It has raised me well, and now it is sending me off into the next chapter of my life.