Except for the two last posts, there have been an issue with adding comments for the recent posts. The problem is unknown, but it has been fixed for any future posts.
Except for the two last posts, there have been an issue with adding comments for the recent posts. The problem is unknown, but it has been fixed for any future posts.
(Disclaimer: This post has been an open word document resting on my desktop for a while. I’ve read the previous posts, and I should say ahead this post is very similar to Fahs’s piece).
For the sake of exams week, sleepiness, and general feeling of frustrated resignation of all that matters in life- this post will be short.
You know how I believe that we don’t really know each other? Well we don’t. But I like what I’ve gotten to know about everyone in class so far. Call me sentimental, but some of you have really become somewhat like a family to me (in a very nonstalkish way).
In this family, Wasan is my twin sister, even though I don’t know how twin sisters behave (I do have a twin brother, however). We are very similar and very different.
Abdulla is the dad; he bosses me around and reminds me to do things. Yes, I always feel the urge to roll my eyes at him, but I secretly appreciate and respect everything he says.
Dana is the crazy cousin who I’d have non-sleepovers with because we’ll probably stay up all night discussing life and politics and hijab and relationships and family.
Duha is the wise aunt. She is sweet, welcoming, and would give me candy and priceless wise lessons in life all with a big hug and marshmallows.
Sara is the annoying little sister that I secretly envy and adore. She is too crazy and energetic for me, but only because I am socially awkward and she basically rocks at life. I love her to death.
Fahs is the hippie in the family. I can’t place him, because he’s some sort of an enigma and nobody knows who he’s related to. All I know is that he’s refreshingly unique, and that he adds flavor and spice to our “ordinary” family. Never change ok?
Bayan is the smart aunt that takes life too seriously, reminding me that I need to get a bit more real and responsible.
Reem and Maria are those cousins that live in exotic countries; they see places and meet people then come back and make me feel worldly. They remind me of how many doors I haven’t opened yet.
For the sake of not knowing any other familial relationships, I will just assume I have many cousins.
Amina is the beautiful, eccentric, and deep cousin that I can’t get the chance to bond with, even though I would love to.
Marina is the cousin who reminds me that within differences in opinion and belief, we are inherently the same, and we can get along just fine.
Farah is that confident and sure cousin that knows exactly what she wants and inspires me to figure out what I want.
Mrs. Dima would be the grandma. I mean, the wisdom, the positivity, the patience, and the engaging –wish they would never end- tales? Yep, definitely the grandmother.
So, imaginary family: thank you for being yourselves as much as one can possibly be in this world. You are all truly remarkable in your own way, and I am very curious to have a reunion ten years from now to see what amazing things you’ve accomplished.
Best and sorry for lying about the post length and bye
I hate endings, but as Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: “Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning, and under every deep a lower deep opens.” This academic year was unique in every aspect. I practically didn’t have any holiday since the previous academic year. I spent my whole summer doing an internship to fulfill one of my degree requirements. Despite this fact, I came back ready. I’m not sure what was the exact reason for that. I think, though, that it was because I knew I was spending my last year here.
I met so many great people, such as Ms. Dima Khatib, who inspired me and gave my life another meaning. Some of these people were around me for the past few years, but I didn’t get to know them. It is sad to meet them just before leaving the country.
Yesterday, I was talking with my best friend about memories and remembering people who made an impact in our lives. We were talking on how you wish to meet them, but borders before anything else separate you from them.
In this spirit, Ms. Dima, you have no idea how greatly you’ll be missed. I’m counting on you to come and visit me in Bahrain so I can show you around. Maybe you can convince my mom that she shouldn’t push me to get married as well. I could use any help :p
Classmates, I knew most of you, but not others. It was a pleasant spending this semester with you in this great course that we choose to take. It was also a nice change to have Dana fighting for the class rights, not me. I can retire in peace now :p
Readers of this blog, I can’t believe you made us reach over a 2,000 view! We have been writing and writing. Your support meant a lot!
Lastly, I can’t conclude this post without thanking Mrs. Sophie Boutros and Dr. Carol Melhem Moufarrej for making this possible. You have been there for us so many times and listened to our demands and worked hard to make them true. You have no idea how much we appreciate that! I’ll miss both of you a lot
P.S. “It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” ― Ernest Hemingway
Frankly speaking, I still can’t believe that we are done with this course and with the entire semester, I’m wondering how time is passing so fast to a moment that it becomes not even sensible. Are we growing old?! Sorry to say but I think yes we DO!!
Well, for me I do not regret any moment that I’ve spent during my entire four years in AUD, being accepted in the school of journalism was such a bless, as I’ve always been passionate about media in all its platforms since my youth, and I’ve been inspired by the way it changes, shapes and influences the entire world!
Yes Thanks God.. Thanks God for being an MBRSC graduate, and Thanks God for getting the chance to take this Editorial and critical writing course with the renowned Dima Al-khatib.
This course was in fact a challenge to me, unlike my Capstone project which was a short documentary film. Yes, I was worried about my gradation project, yet at the end I was sure about the way I will depict it to the public; visual/audio pieces are always easier to grab the attention of the audience, and faster to fascinate them. However, not everyone is indeed interesting in reading articles that are made of hundreds and thousands of words. People would rather read 140 words on twitter rather than reading the whole article on its official website.
Globalization has changed the world dramatically, we become so materialistic and totally dependent on technology and new media platforms; it’s rare to observe real media production, but it’s obvious to witness a real content consumption!
This course taught me to be tolerant, organized, well-prepared, knowledge seeker and literally a real journalist. Regardless of my modest experience in print journalism, Dima has taught me a lot about categorizing articles, analyzing them, besides knowing the effective input that each should deliver. This course taught that being a journalist means, to always be updated about internal and external incidents, and to be part of them in a way that would make a difference in any concerned society.
Eventually, Journalism equals to knowledge, anyone can become a journalist because it’s the profession of influence and Change and if I achieved one of those or both of them, I’d consider myself a triumphant journalist by then.
Dear members of JOUR323,
This is your shrimp speaking. I am happy to say that it was a delight being with you this semester. LOL just kidding, I hate you all.
*Drops mic, hides under blanket*
I AM ONLY KIDDING- it is way past my bed time and I had 3 cups of green tea so my bladder is about to explode, so please excuse my silliness as this post is not meant to offend anyone except Fahs.
There were two things I learned in this class over the past 3.5 months. First of all, the fact that someone like Dima Khatib stood before us in an attempt (a successful one, might I add) to inspire and teach the next generation of aspiring young journalists (us) is admirable. I say this not only because she has accomplished many things and is a well-renowned figure, which made her a fantastic candidate for this position. It was the passion and admiration that enabled us to put an effort in our work and strive for the better. If it wasn’t for that charisma and encouragement, I would’ve only considered this course as a ‘let me just pass it so i can get 3 credits’ type of deal. But that was not the case at all, I fell in love with the material we covered and the amount of positive attitude contributed by the class. With that admiration, I was able to feel the same way with the other media classes I was taking.
The second thing I pondered upon while being in this class was, if I were to die tomorrow….what would I do today? weird question, ya. Seriously though, being a journalist is not a picnic. We will take risks at our field. But we would want to leave a mark…I suppose. When you’re at the end of your rope and you have to make a decision, which way do you choose? Since this class was writing-oriented, If I were to die tomorrow, I would just want to go outside and write for hours. I’d write letters to family (not in a suicide note kind of way), I’d write to friends, I’d write articles about everything.
Also, since the main form of communication between Dima and us (some) was mainly Twitter, I followed 20 more people this semester and will probably tweet in another language. And with this ‘addiction’, I’d just like to add that my eulogy will probably be a solid 45 minutes of someone (maybe Farah) just explaining Twitter to my family. #JustSayin
Much love and respect,
Sara Al BOOM!
Okay, remember my first post about truth; where people are brutally honest?
This is the post where I planned to be completely honest and drop a bomb that will leave everybody’s jaw on the floor.
Well, change of plans.
Ok not really.
I learned this semester to believe in my abilities more. To be completely honest, I always knew I was good, but not good enough. You might call me a stuck up but it’s important to know that you’re good, as long as it doesn’t make you believe you are better than others.
I loved this class, I really did. Even though no one understood my crazy ideas or writings, I still liked it. I was free yet misunderstood; people thought I’m only trying to write something outrageous just for the sake of it which is not true.
I really wanted to write the piece about being high in Lebanon but I couldn’t. Ms. Dima thought it would just be about weed but that wasn’t the case. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wanted to be believed in a little bit more, and not be taken as someone whose trying to get attention. I could have done it, but I just didn’t. I felt like the passion was gone.
My message was simple; think outside the box, inspire others, try to ignite a sense of rebellion in others, and make sure everyone believed in peace.
Anyway, let me tell you what I learned.
I learned that Zainab is the best writer in class, she is just phenomenal and should get a book deal right now! I learned that Shrimpy is the funniest and strongest woman I’ve ever met, seriously, all jokes aside she is going to rule a country; just watch it happen.
I learned that Abdullah fights for what he wants, and that he is more of a strong black woman than Oprah (now watch him snap after reading this and you’ll see my point). I learned that Amina is full of grace and that she will make a great teacher one day.
I learned that Dana is hardworking, Duha is determined and creative, and that Wasan has the most beautiful positive energy I’ve ever encountered.
Marina and Maria I learned that one day they will become strong Egyptian women, who will stand up for women in Egypt and make a change.
And finally, I learned that Farah is truly full of passion. But gurl, seriously, gurl..Don’t write poetry again, it’s just not your thing. I’m kidding I love you!
Finally, I learned that Ms. Dima housed us all in a small classroom and opened the platform for us to appreciate each other for what we really are. I hope that you one day you get to meet the moon.
The name is Blank
An impressionist beast
the goal is expressionist
What is war but an article
There are no holes in the sky
just a deflection
A plague of a conqueror’s dream
And a rise in levels of blood
We’ve become our own children
No womb and no science
Drowned in flags
In Nationalistic machines and clay
Guns are sacred papers
Laying flesh into beautiful bullets
Limitless heartless injections
And morphine-loaded empathy
God is the face of war
And the ‘slaves of freedom”
modeling on a runway of tanks
And a victory in the name of a corpse
The branding is Injury
Who’s the best shredded hero?
What are conferences but chords
And throat slashing dollar bills
The world condemns your condemnation
we made love to machines
And then we prayed,
“We want peace”
I did not see that coming.
I just starred at the screen trying really hard to understand what was I writing when I tried to edit my pieces. Doing the portfolio made me realizes the ugly funny truth.
I laughed at myself.
No embarrassing details will be shared in this post.
I hope my writing did improve at the end, other wise I going to spare others and stop writing for the greater good.
So I just want to say thank you Mrs. Dima for reminding me of this, I feel so good about my self now, in the finals, after I submitted ALL my assignments in the course.
Scared, but can resist the urge to laugh at myself. Though I am not sure is it really funny or I am just too hyper and high because of the severe lack of sleep. So my apologies if this does not make any sense
Good luck everyone in finals, it was a pleasure (not always) to have this class with you.
This is my last year at AUD. It had its ups and downs; however, I have learned a lot from it. Some of the courses I took taught have changed the way I look at things. In “Critical and Editorial Writing”, I was exposed to different styles of writing that I barely knew about before. Although I found out that it is not my thing, I still benefited a lot from it. The “Capstone” course known as the senior project, made me realize that when it comes to making out dreams reality, we often do not know what are our dreams anymore. It took me a while to sort out my idea for my senior project; nevertheless, I was able to find my dream at the end.
I met many people that I have admired, appreciated, loved, helped, and supported. I also lost a lot of people that did not try harder to be in my life. Both people left me a profound lesson on how to act and be later on in life.
This semester was hectic for me but I made it through like I always have. I broke down at times where other days someone had my back. I don’t know if I am ready for what is coming next but I will sure be able to take it whatever comes my way with a broad smile!
Though this year has been a pleasant adventure from meeting the funniest people in my batch, to discovering talents I never knew I possessed and accomplishing much more than the requirements for my degree, I have realized that there was a downside to this year. I am not a pessimistic person, however, this was just something I discovered the hard way.
I learned that there are people in your life that will root for your failure. As harsh as this may sound, but some will work twice as hard to put you down despite your efforts. The first time I ever experienced such negativity, I am not going to lie, I felt horrible and maybe even cried a little. I know I sound like a child, but it came across as a shock to me that I sometimes felt “maybe I’m not made to be a journalist.” Unfortunately, I let (what I like to call) this destructive criticism get to me every time. I allowed it and lived with it bottling up despair inside me, until one day, I defended my work.
This whole time, I allowed people to criticize without defending my view point, my style or topics in general to save myself the ‘drama’. I used to take it in and let it ruin my day when all I could have done all along was defend my work politely and diplomatically.
Personally, this is what I genuinely learnt. Gradually, I started to differentiate between criticism given to improve my writing and criticism that was voiced to put me down. Not only did I learn to differentiate between the two, but now I am able to defend my work without insulting anyone or crossing any lines.
So rather than hating the people who have criticized my work for the sake of looking down on me or belittling my writing, I thank them for teaching me how to have confidence in my writing and how to digest the criticism that will benefit me most while discarding ones that will not.