Final Paper, Andrew Damiter

My family is full of people with absurdly selective memories. To be more specific, they have sharp memories when it comes to things I mention in passing and don’t mean to place too much emphasis on. I have said things in passing that my parents have taken to heart and harp on me about to this day. Briefly mention once that I don’t much care for a particular teacher and then never speak of said person in a negative light again? That teacher is henceforth known as “that teacher you don’t like.” If I explain to my grandfather how to right click on the computer, you better believe it’s going to take five or six spread out lessons to get that information to stick. What does this have to do with fame? It’s very simple: my parents spread my thoughts.

My parents reside two hours north of Philadelphia in the Pocono area. Whenever they come to pick me up and drive me home for a weekend, that’s two hours I have to fill with conversation. They ask questions, I answer and a dialogue ensues. This drive apparently takes us through an alternate realm, one where everything I say has added value and nothing I say is forgotten. I have said more than my fair share of things that I shouldn’t have. This doesn’t mean that I’ve never said anything that I regret saying because it was hurtful. On the contrary, since it involved me it was rather positive. The problem arose from the fact that no one besides myself really needed to know, and after it left my mouth I knew that everyone my parents, specifically my mother, came in contact with would hear exactly what I said.

Perhaps it’s just a parental thing, but even still it can get quite annoying, especially when I no longer back up whatever it was I originally said. In a sense this causes me to become “famous” on a very small scale, and it is generally fame I do not want to accept. Prior to this term, I planted a few ideas that have grown into full-blown headaches. Other ideas were hatched simply because of this project. On the following pages I will discuss what effects prior statements I have made have had on my relationship with my family, and I will also discuss what effect new statements have had and how far word of such statements have managed to spread over the course of ten weeks.

I like to write. A lot. This became apparent early in high school and I didn’t hide it. I would write this and that and show it to my parents. I never learned they viewed it as possibly more than a hobby until I changed my major from computer science to communications my freshman year of college. When I changed, my mother told me shortly thereafter that she was sure I was going to change my major before I even started school, and shortly after I changed she immediately began to tell everyone that had even the slightest idea of who I was that I had done so. The point is, something I took for granted was a major talking point amongst a lot of people and I wasn’t even aware of it. On a small scale I had become famous simply by making a personal decision.

During the summer of 2006 I spent a few days scouring the internet for information on various graduate school programs. I looked at everything from English to broadcasting to law. Unfortunately for me, I mentioned this during one of those infamous drives home. Apparently law is one of those words that makes an impact, though one I certainly wasn’t anticipating. I mentioned it in such a way as to place no emphasis on it. When questioned, I simply mentioned that I had heard Temple University had a good trial law program. That conversation has created a wave of turmoil that makes me wish I knew how to surf.

To make one thing very clear, I have no plans to even apply for law school. I have said this to my parents before but they tend to ignore me and continue to spread their propaganda. During a drive home from school in late April, about thirty minutes in my dad asked me if I was still considering law school. I resigned myself to my default answer, which has become “it’s not high on my list of priorities.” What is high? English and scriptwriting, which I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions. Does that matter? No, not in the least. What does matter is that my parents latched on to the law concept and spread that thought like wildfire.

Note: I only mentioned Temple University as a law school option because, frankly, I don’t have the GPA to get into a top-tier school. Not that Temple in a poor school, it’s just that their admission standards aren’t ludicrously overblown like some of the more typically thought of programs like those at Duke or Harvard. With that noted, I discovered in early May that when my mother talked about law school she told people I was likely going to go into some sort of corporate law, and by that I believe she meant copyright law or something equally boring. She never mentioned criminal law, which relates directly to Temple’s trial program.

I went to the graveyard that contains a number of my passed relatives over Memorial Day weekend. Usually it’s just myself, my dad, his mother and perhaps one of my dad’s brothers. This time around there were numerous relatives there that I hadn’t seen in years. As we were standing around the grave of one of my distant cousins, an aunt I’ve met only a handful of times strolled up next to me and, in front of a group of relatives I’ve never said more than hello to, she says, “So, I hear you’re going to law school.” Not looking, not considering, not applying, but going. No questions asked.

There are teachers I had in high school that think I’m going to law school. One of them in particular knew about my major switch a few days after I told my parents. Since I left high school my parents only talked to said teacher twice; one time for each proclamation. I have tried on numerous occasions to talk about pursuing writing grad work but the thought never completely sticks. Well, that’s not entirely true. There are two families, one in Hungary and one in Thailand, that might listen to the truth.

My parents took in two foreign exchange students, both of whom are returning home late this month. When I’m home I do nothing but criticize mediocre movies and praise terrible sci-fi movies for their, well, terribleness. Over the past few weeks I made sure to step up my efforts. The two of them soak up so much television that it’s borderline scary, so I know my words, at least the ones they understand, are not falling on deaf ears. Law? Sure, they’ve heard it mentioned, but it never meant anything. Now movie and novel writing, that’s what they’re going to tell their folks back home when they talk about me. Should I ever get something published I know I have at least two guaranteed sales abroad.

My half-brother in Michigan emailed me about it. One of my grandmothers uses it as fuel amongst her church-going friends whenever they discuss their grandchildren. I mention law school in a passing manner and I instantly change people’s perceptions. In my own special way I am famous within my family and extended family simply because I opened my mouth. This says a lot about what people are willing to accept at face value without knowing the full story and what delusions people will cast in front of themselves in order to continue believing in something that simply isn’t true.

All of this has created more than a few tense moments at home. Whenever law gets mentioned I try to end the conversation as quickly as possible and a few moments of awkward silence generally follow as everyone decides whether or not to ask another related question. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that my parents don’t want to have to recant what they’ve already said to friends and family. It hasn’t altered our relationship to a noticeably significant degree, but the difference is still quite obvious. Come this fall when it becomes entirely clear that I will most certainly not be applying to law schools, there is going to be some disappointed head shaking.

But I digress. In the end, fame is about perception. People that aren’t interested in the culture of Hollywood but rabidly follow some particular novel writer have a different perception of fame than do people that fall head over heels for actors. In my small neck of the woods, fame is proportional to how much someone is talked about. A year after I let something slip it’s still being talked about, even though I’ve made a recent effort to dispel the false truths. If I wouldn’t have said anything about law school, a few relatives would have said nothing more than a passing “hello” to me over Memorial Day weekend. If I hadn’t made an effort to emphasize my critical nature, two foreign exchange students would think of me as nothing more than a grumpy old man (which wouldn’t be incorrect). The point is, fame is in the eye of the beholder. Just because you don’t want it doesn’t mean you can avoid it. If enough people with enough influence want you to be famous, you’re going to be famous.

Mini project #5: Kristofer Dorsey

I think there is three huge “factors” that come in to play of why people want to leave a legacy. The first reason I think is “self-worth.” The second is the thought of “what you did here affects the future.” And last but not least, the last one is “being remembered”. I will break down each aspect in this writing to get further detail look in why people want to have a legacy.
Self-worth: One of the reason people want to leave a legacy is self-worth. While they are here (on this earth), they want the feeling of belonging and importance. They want to do things where people would either marvel at amazement or be grateful to what they are doing. If a person built a community center to help kids from being in gangs and it becomes successful, he would be starting his legacy. The building would be named after him so that people would know his name. The community would hold him up because he saved them during their crisis. This would just be laying down the ground work. Look at examples of Napoleon or Muhammad Ali. Napoleon won wars that some thought were impossible to win and created his legacy. Ali, not only a boxer, spoke for a generation during a time of change created his legacy by being outspoken and an advocate. This is only one side because what you did to make your self important for your self-worth, also affects your future.
The future: Your legacy will be past down to your future, ala children. Just like in the past, your name still means a lot. Being an only child and one of four boys from my cousins, I know that I have to keep the legacy of my family going (Williams) meaning I have to change my last name to do so. I’m not doing it to get rid of the name of my father, but to give my children a sense of their family’s history. Doing a great feat or becoming wealthy now will allow your children to take on the same responsibilities as you or do something even greater. Your name will open doors for them that you work hard for and make it easier for them. If you do this correct, you will be remembered.
Being remembered: The most important aspect of having a legacy is being remembered. That’s the whole point of having one. When you die, you want people to remember you and always talk about the achievements and goals that you reached in life. Nobody wants to be a name in the wind. People want to have made an impact on someone’s life or the world’s. That is the true meaning of a legacy.
I think all this say about us or society is that we’re human. We think about our own mortality every waken day. We know that we cannot live forever in the body, but in the minds and words of people we can achieve it. That’s the only way a person can live forever and we strive each and every day to achieve this.

Mini Five, Andrew Damiter

There’s something to be said for not wanting to be forgotten. There’s only so much one can do in a lifetime and the thought of it being all for nothing frightens a lot of people. There are some people that are perfectly content to live their lives and make room for someone else, and there are those that feel being etched into history is the ultimate accomplishment. Death is a frightening reality, but through the thoughts and memories of others it is truly possible to live forever.

People that have left legacies behind are generally great people in their respective field. Julius Caesar will never be forgotten due to his unique approach to being an emperor and simply because his name appears in a vast number of writings. This is not to say that the legacy has to be built on positives. Jack the Ripper, if he actually existed, left behind quite a legacy of terror.

People also want to build a legacy simply because they have seen the admiration shown to those with established legacies. People will attempt to model themselves after a celebrity because they think they can turn that person’s success into their own. It is because of this that some might view legacy building as their one-stop shop for fame. People with legacies are typically successful in some form or another and that drive for success certainly doesn’t deter people from seeking out their own legacy.

Wanting to be accepted and loved is not a new concept. Leaving behind a legacy is a sign of the ultimate level of acceptance, as it takes more than a little bit of renown to achieve such status. While desires to be famous may have risen simply due to over-saturation of celebrity culture within the media, such a desire merely reassures us that we are, indeed, human. We yearn for the approval of others whether we want to admit it or not. A legacy assures everlasting acceptance. Though there are certainly those with shallow goals, the fact that people want to achieve something so great that their very existence is honored for generations says very positive things about the drive we have to better ourselves as a society and as individuals.

Paper # 3 - Gina Carrano

Gina Carrano

6/4/05

Paper #3

Fame, Interrupted

Many children are born with stars in their eyes. They dream of the bright lights of the stage, of flashbulbs popping, of auditions and callbacks, or maybe just of seeing themselves on TV. When my stepsister, Cassia Bradley, was a child, some of these dreams were her reality—for a little while, anyway. We sat down and discussed her brief childhood acting career, the reasons it got interrupted, and how she felt about stepping into—and then out of—the limelight.

Ever since Cassia was a little girl, she was drawn to acting. When she and her family would sit around their San Fernando Valley home watching TV and a child would come onscreen, she’d wonder if she could do what those kids do—be on TV, that is. She didn’t have to wonder for long; growing up in Los Angeles, where everyone’s in the business and looking for the next great talent, it took only until she was six before she met Diane, a talent manager who recognized her potential and helped her get started.

After meeting and becoming friendly with Cassia and her family at church, Diane informed them that she thought Cassia and her older brother possessed all the tools required to successfully get into acting, particularly in commercials. She cited their friendliness, maturity, likeability and, of course, the all-important cuteness factor, as reasons they would excel in TV, and offered her assistance in hooking them up with some auditions to get them started.

Diane initially approached Cassia’s parents, Tom and Sharon, with her ideas. After they agreed that it would be okay with them to let their kids explore this, they sat down with Cassia and Luke and discussed with them the opportunity at hand and all it entailed. Cassia remembers her parents being very up-front and detailed about the audition process, particularly that they would have to get all dressed up, go on long trips, wait in even longer lines and then recite lines in front of strangers. All of that might deter some children, but Cassia’s parents later told her that was not her intent, they only wanted to make sure their kids fully understood what they were getting into before they got into it. And although some parents may want to push their kids into acting for their own reasons—such as vicarious fulfillment of their own childhood dreams that have gone unrealized—Tom and Sharon left the decision entirely up to Cassia and Luke, telling them all they’d need to know to make an informed decision, and then reminding them that they’d support whatever decision they made.

Although Cassia and Luke felt no pressure from their parents, they wanted to at least try going on a few auditions. They both thought it would be fun, but of the two, Cassia was distinctly more excited about the prospect of acting; she loved getting dressed up and performing scenes from movies or singing songs in front of family and friends. In retrospect, Cassia said, they both knew that if they got any parts in commercials, they would be on TV—in fact, they both thought that was “cool” and it was a major motivating factor in their decision. However, she doesn’t think that either one of them were too terribly aware of the concept of fame at that point in their lives (Cassia was six and Luke was eight.) If Luke was aware of the possibility of attaining some level of fame as a result of doing commercials, she said, he didn’t mention it, and to her at that age, her world didn’t extend very far beyond her family, friends, peers, neighbors and church. She knew that the people she saw on TV and in movies were actors and actresses—which was what she wanted to be—but had never considered the concept that they had an adoring public of fans. And although her experience with commercials would never garner her own group of screaming fans, it certainly did teach her a whole lot about the business of show business.

It was not long after Cassia and Luke had decided to start auditioning for commercials that she came to her first realization—how long everything would take. Before they could go on any auditions, they had to have head shots to give to the casting directors. And before they could get any head shots taken, they had to sharpen what Cassia now calls their “marketable skills”—not only acting but dancing, an element that is often present in commercials featuring children. Diane, the talent manager, helped them with all these preparations; in fact, she often held acting and dancing classes in the church’s recreation room for all the church kids interested in getting into the business. This speaks to the omnipresence of show business in Los Angeles—the bright lights of Hollywood leave their mark everywhere, even in church basements.

Cassia never felt overwhelmed by the large number of her peers who were also looking into acting. In fact, she said it was more of a positive than a negative, both for reasons of moral support—she always had people to go to the auditions with—and practicality—all the kids knew each other from church, and their parents could take turns carpooling them to auditions. She never felt competitive with them, she said, jokingly adding that maybe that’s how she first knew she wasn’t destined to be a star. More than anything, she and Luke were glad to always have friends around to talk to while waiting on those interminable audition lines.

After going through a few months of lessons and head shots, Cassia and Luke finally began the audition process. This sometimes seemed like climbing a mountain, she said, because for every small part that she’d get, there were 10 others she wouldn’t. However, she and Luke both did pretty well at the auditions, landing two or three different jobs each fairly quickly. Within a few months of going on her first audition, Cassia had already landed work in commercials for Oscar Meyer hot dogs, Bounce fabric softener, and even appeared in some print ads for a family-oriented spa. Because she and Luke looked so much alike, directors were often interested in having them appear in family commercials as brother and sister. They were even offered what would have been their biggest role yet in a McDonald’s commercial, but Luke turned down that opportunity once he realized how long a job it was and how much work it would entail, preferring instead to spend his after-school time playing soccer and flying model planes.

Cassia’s biggest “almost famous” moment came when she was seven. She auditioned for a movie called Splash 3 and “got close,” she said, earning several callbacks, one of which included on-location filming at the beach, something she’d never done before. She was filmed standing on a beach along with the actors and actresses that would play her family in the movie, and she even had to learn to wink for the occasion—and to this day, every time she winks, it brings her right back to the scene of a frenzied casting director standing atop a blanket of sand, telling her to twitch her eye as if something was stuck in it.

In the end, Cassia didn’t end up getting the part. But the audition, which was her biggest and most memorable experience in front of the camera, also turned out to be her last one. Shortly after she tried out for the movie, Luke’s interest in acting began to wane. He joined a recreational soccer team and spent most of his days playing and practicing, leaving him with less time to go to auditions. Cassia’s parents were supportive of her continuing to act if she wanted to, but it just seemed less fun without her big brother, so she eventually stopped going to auditions too.

She missed the fun of acting, she said, but there were more things about the audition process she didn’t miss, like waiting on sometimes-endless lines or putting up with the pushy “stage parents” of other kids who were auditioning for the same parts as her. She initially thought that when she was older she would return to acting, and she did consider doing just that when she was about 13, but she quickly learned from talking to her friends who were still auditioning that the older you got, the more serious the business of acting became, and the more intense the competitive atmosphere at auditions got. And although Cassia always enjoyed acting, the stiff competition at auditions wasn’t her scene—she saw acting merely as something fun to do, not as a path to instant fame and fortune. Achieving recognition or renown for acting was never something to which she inspired; instead it was just a hobby for her.

As she grew up, Cassia found other ways to indulge her inner actress without casting directors, callbacks or commercials. In high school, she joined her school’s drama club and acted in several plays. One day she and some castmates in a school play were going over a script with an eye toward changing some of the dialogue, and it was then that she realized her true calling was behind the camera, not in front of it. She went on to take film classes at USC, and there she fell in love with video editing, an activity for which she had an immediate knack. She liked that editing allowed her to be just as creative as acting would, and she knew that while a career in TV editing would be challenging, it would come without the immense pressures that often accompany acting.

Today, Cassia is a college graduate working in an entry-level position at Warner Bros. Studios in Los Angeles. Her position has allowed her many a fascinating glance into the lives of the famous actors and actresses that are often at the studio to shoot episodes of their shows. These actors and actresses are doing the same things she once dreamed of doing as a child, but seeing them at work every day only makes her surer of her decision that behind the scenes is where she’s supposed to be. Her ultimate career goal is to become a producer/writer on a successful and long-running TV show. When asked if she would ever consider making a cameo appearance on a show she produced, she laughed and said she probably wouldn’t be able to turn such an opportunity down, if only for old time’s sake. “Someday I’ll act again,” Cassia said. Until then, she’s more than happy backstage.

Mini Project #5 - Niki Ververelli

I think there is a certain sense of pride involved when leaving a legacy. If you have done well for others, you want that to be known and to be remembered. It is a great thing to know that we have been remembered for anything, but especially those very big things in our lives. For example, I know that my grandfather holds a legacy in two distinct realms – the Greek Orthodox Church and the greater Philadelphia area engineering community. He did a lot to make our church beautiful and he also worked very hard for himself as a business owner. In my mind, I don’t think he did any of these things to make sure his name was on a plaque somewhere or that people would still be talking about him, rather I believe that he did well for the greater good because he could.

It says that we have a very deep, vested interest in not being forgotten, whether we are alive or have passed on. We want others to remember us at our best. It is an honor when your memory is held onto. Even if it’s not a building that bears your name, the smallest of memories can suffice in that legacy ideal. I think that there is such a sense of “what’s next?” in our mentality today that when someone is actually remembered and thought back upon, it is a great thing. I think that it says there are some things in life that we want to slow down the passing of, specifically the ideal way that we want people to remember us.

Final Paper- Melinda Glass

I’ve participated in theater at Drexel since my freshman year, so I thought this last project was going to be a breeze. As it turned out, however, it was much more difficult than I anticipated. I’ve auditioned for many plays since my time at Drexel. I’ve pretty much got the drill down pat: you go to the audition an hour early, grab whatever script excerpt involves the character you hope to play, then hide in the bathroom for as long as you can, reciting it over and over again until it’s practically memorized. Some people choose to hide in their cars or curl up in a corner somewhere, but I’ve found security in the bathroom setting. I usually get a little nervous while auditioning, but the fact that I have a script in my hand usually takes a bit of the pressure off. Worst case scenario: just read. I've also done shows and have had classes with most of the faculty who direct the plays at Drexel, so I usually feel pretty confident. The fact that I’ve grown so accustomed to this type of audition made my audition for “The Drexel Football Team” very difficult.

The Drexel Football Team is a student-run improv comedy team. Considering Drexel doesn’t have an actual football team, it only seems appropriate to make fun of the fact through improv. The purpose of the audition was to cast a few people to replace the seniors in the team graduating this term. I’ve done some improv before just for fun, and I’ve found it really hard to try to be funny. If I feel pressured to be funny, most likely whatever I say won’t be genuine and won’t make anyone laugh. I was stressed about the audition weeks before it even occurred. If it were two weeks before I was auditioning for a play, I would have gotten my hands on a script, or at least read a synopsis online. The fact that I could do nothing to prepare myself made me uneasy. I watched some Whose Line is it Anyway? On YouTube a few nights before the try-out, but I was still nervous. Furthermore, I wasn’t going to be auditioning for faculty members, whom I know, I was going to be auditioning for students, most of whom I’ve never met. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’d rather embarrass myself in front of a faculty member than a whole group of my peers. I told myself, “It’s for your class. It’s ok if you don’t do well,” and I went to the audition.

I got there an hour early, but this time I wasn’t going to be hiding in the bathroom. I wanted to have enough time to interview people before the audition started. I was extremely happy when someone I knew walked in. Mary* is a freshman who I worked with earlier in the year when Drexel presented The Laramie Project. Mary helped with stage crew and I performed. At the audition we started talking casually about how nervous we both were, but I realized I had a paper to write, so, like any good journalist, I got out my notebook and pen. I asked her why she was nervous and she told me she was afraid she wasn’t going to be funny. I quickly responded with, “Me too!” but gained my journalist-like composure and got back to the questions. I asked her how she thought she would do. She told me she was afraid during the audition she would “choke.” She said, “It’s hard to be funny when they’re expecting funny.” But while she was afraid, she said, “basically it depends on if they see something in me.” I asked her why she wanted to join The Drexel Football Team, expecting her to say she wanted to gain campus-wide popularity and fame, but her answer was quite different. She told me it was because she always goes to see them perform. She told me when she watches them they always look like they’re having such a good time, and they perform on stage like they don’t care what anyone thinks about them. I really found this interesting. I asked her, “What about the audience?” She told me that it would be nice to get laughs and to know the audience was “validating what you’re doing,” but the way she was talking I couldn’t help but get the impression she just wanted to feel a part of this group. She made it a point to tell me that members of the team all go out together after their shows. It was at this point that I realized Mary wasn’t auditioning for fame or popularity (in fact I don’t even think it crossed her mind), she was auditioning because she admired the improv team, and wanted to be included in their little group. She was a fan, a groupie even! It reminded me of high school when I desperately wanted to be friends with the girls on the field hockey team, and they wanted nothing to do with me, but that's neither here nor there. Mary just needed a feeling of belonging. Her sense of fame was at a very small scale. I got the impression she just wanted to be seen in a group of friends, let alone gain any type of fame. I found myself starting to feel sorry for her, so I told her I was sure she’d do great in the audition and excused myself to go interview another person.

I looked around the room and saw someone else I knew. I’ve worked with Jarred* on a few shows. He’s not really my favorite person in the world, but I decided to say hello and sat down next to him at the audition. Jarred is the ultimate male primadonna. He’s a student actor who is convinced he’ll be a professional one day. He makes it a point every time you talk to him to mention he’s met some obscure celebrity who’s apparently “a big deal on Broadway.” He’s one of those people who is constantly talking about himself and telling off-the-wall stories to get laughs. What annoys me the most about him is the fact that people around him eat it up! Despite my dislike for him, he was a great subject for this interview, and because the interview would be all about him, he more than willingly participated.

I first asked him if he was nervous for the audition, and he said simply, “No.” He told me there’s no point in getting nervous at auditions because there’s nothing to get nervous about- “either they like you or they don’t,” he said. I asked him why he wanted to be a part of The Drexel Football Team and I got the exact answer I had anticipated. He told me, “Well they’re getting pretty well-known on campus now,” then said something about how he thinks it would be a fun opportunity. I asked him why he enjoys being on stage and he told me it’s all about the audience’s reactions. He said it’s a great feeling to know people are enjoying your performance, and it gives you “assurance” that you’re doing a good job. I then asked him what his thoughts were on fame, and what followed was a monologue worthy of an Oscar. He gave me a huge spiel on how the “general public” feels fame is about mass acknowledgement. He told me most of the actors on film and television can’t act for crap, but despite their “total lack of talent” are world renown. He told me the real people who should be famous are *insert obscure actors names here* who “have truly succeeded in mastering their craft.” It was then that I realized the connection between his acting and his thoughts on fame. I got the feeling he felt he was one of those obscure actors who deserved to be famous, but weren’t. Unlike the “general public” who admire celebrities, he feels a great deal of bitterness toward them. I don’t think he truly thought they had no talent; it was clear he was upset he hasn’t been ‘discovered’ yet.

As I was trying to wrap up the interview, it was about time to audition. As soon as Luke, the team leader, started talking, my nerves immediately came back. He explained how the audition would go: The Football Team and people auditioning would work together in groups and perform different improv skits in front of the rest of the groups. I had a group of four. One person was a member of The Football Team, and the other two people were auditioning (one of which was Jarred-of course). My group wasn’t the first to go (thank God). It was actually a pretty relaxed setting. Everyone in the audience was laughing at the different skits- even if they weren’t particularly funny. When it was my group's turn to go, however, I was no longer relaxed. Our skit was “The Dating Game.” I think Whose Line is it Anyway? calls it, “Pick a Date.” It’s the skit where there are three bachelors- in this case, bachelorettes- who all have a special “quirk” about them. One person is the “contestant” who is unaware of the quirks and, after asking the bachelorettes a few questions, guesses their quirks and decides which he’d like to take out on a date. The idea is for the bachelorettes to hint to their quirks without totally giving them away. Our “contestant” was the member of our group who was part of The Football Team. He left the room and the remainder of the group was assigned quirks. My quirk was, “Thinks she’s a lobster.” Jarred’s quirk was “fortune teller” and the other girl auditioning with us was a “kidnapper.” Our contestant came back in the room and we began the game. It was actually pretty funny. I created the best Star Trek “vulcan salute” I’ve ever seen my fingers form, and was the best lobster I could be. I even managed to pinch Jarred in the ear. Of course he played the whole game using this ridiculously high-pitched fortune teller voice, and managed to throw in a couple of dirty jokes. The kidnapper grabbed some poor soul from the audience and dragged them into the hallway. Both of them stayed out there for the remainder of the skit.

At the end of the game everyone’s quirks were successfully identified, and Jarred was the lucky girl to be asked on a date. He also was lucky enough to get a spot on the team. I, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. I learned a lot from the experience, however. People have very different views surrounding fame. Some people have no expectations of fame, and feel privileged to even be recognized every once-in-a-while (poor Mary never made the team). Others feel entitled to fame and like being in the spotlight whenever possible- even if it means stealing someone else’s spotlight, but hey, I’m not bitter. While it was a valuable experience, I think from now on I’ll stick to the script…and my hiding place in the bathroom.

*Names have been changed.

Mini #5 Melinda Glass

There’s an inherent desire in all living things on earth to reproduce. Passing along your genes ensures the “circle of life” will continue and your species won’t die out. I believe humans also have the desire to pass along a “legacy” by reproducing, but being the mentally advanced creatures that we are, we find other ways to leave legacies, and other motives for doing so.

While having children may be the most popular way to leave a legacy, there are many other ways to be remembered after you pass away. Some people leave a financial legacy for their family, others decide to use their popularity or fame to be remembered by their loved ones. Anything from one’s reputation as the best basketball player to ever play at their high school, to one’s achievements in the field of brain surgery can satisfy the desire to leave a legacy.

But why do we feel the need to leave a legacy in the first place? The biggest factor that contributes to the desire to leave a legacy is fear of death. The ability to pass along you genes, or create a name for yourself ensures there will still be a part of you who exists even after you’re gone. When faced with the idea of no longer existing on the earth, many people become terrified. Despite religious beliefs, there is no one who knows with 100 percent certainty what happens to you after you pass away. It is because of this uncertainty that people feel the need to leave a legacy behind.

With the exception narcissists, who want to leave legacies because the world needs to know how WONDERFUL they are, I think the desire to be remembered is normal. No one wants to be forgotten, especially if it turns out there is no life after death.

Mini Project #5 by: Alexandra Schultheis

It is hard to exactly pinpoint the reason why people want to leave behind a legacy; however, in my opinion I think that people feel the need to leave behind a legacy because they want to feel as though they have left an impact on society even after they have left this world. It is human nature to want to feel some sort of importance in this world; people want to feel good about what they do, either professionally or personally, whom they associate with, and most importantly about who they are. The ultimate test to an individual’s importance is whether or not they will be remembered for that important thing, whatever it may be. In my opinion, if a person feels as though they will leave behind a legacy of being a great, honorable person that they have fulfilled their duties here on earth.

Another reason for why people want to leave behind a legacy is because it gives them a false sense of immortality. No one wants to die. In fact, if most people had their choice they would live forever. By leaving behind a legacy it gives a person the feeling that they are living on even after they have physically left this earth; they are living on through their legacy.

Quiz #2 - A Must See!!

As promised, you'll find quiz #2 in this post.

Your instructions: Answer five of the following six questions in a few sentences. You can answer the questions in any order, but, for the sake of geeky bifocal-wearing professors everywhere, please number your responses.

Responses are due back to me by 5 p.m. on Thursday, June 7.

And since I'll probably stumble around and quite possibly tear up a bit when we end our journey, let me take this opportunity to say it's been a blast. Please stay in touch, and if you're ever in Hockessin, DE, be sure to look us up - we're in the book - and usually in the backyard on summer evenings, enjoying a beverage and hanging with Mister Neil - as opposed to Mr. Cooper.

Good luck!

1. Why is it not correct to argue that fans are just passive receptors of information? In what three ways do fans "produce" out of their love for a team, actor, artist, juggler, plate-spinner, or TV show?

2. If you were developing a psychological profile of the "fame-seeking person," which of the characteristics we discussed in class would you include? Or is it just pointless to engage in such an endeavor?

3. Do you believe that we have reached the point where all of our behavior these days is essentially "front stage," to use Erving Goffman's term? Briefly touch on the difference between "front" and "back" stage in your answer.

4. What was Julius Caesar's great innovation in the evolution of fame?

5. What do we always seem to get wrong about the fame that came Jesus Christ's way?

6. Which is easier to develop - a parasocial relationship or a real-life one?

AND FINALLY, THE SUPER BONUS QUESTION: What song did Sheila and I first dance to at our wedding? (I had to make this a little harder than the previous bonus question).

Here's a hint: the song, originally recorded by Roy Orbison, was in a movie starring three popular actresses.

Once again, good luck!

Mini #5 -Francesca Galarus

Upon my high school graduation, my mom took me to Italy on a roots tour. We had no idea what to expect, but my aunt had done a little more research than us and she came prepared with photos of my great-grandmother and all fifteen of her brothers and sisters. Of the sixteen of them, she was the only one to come to the United States. Therefore, most of the ancestors of my great aunts and uncles still reside in the same town.

When we finally were able to meet up with everyone, we struggled between English and Italian, but we spent the majority of the time looking at family photos. Our shared history instantly bonded us. We feverishly wrote down names and dates on the backs of the photos so that we would never forget and we talked about what those people were like and what had happened to them. We even recreated photos that our ancestors had taken, posing in the same way with the same back drop.

We also were able to see our family seal, family crypt and the famous balcony that my great-grandmother was standing on the first time she saw her future husband.

I believe that my experience in Italy really shows how important it can be to leave legacies. For the most part, leaving legacies gets a bad rep, with reasons of selfishness and wanting and needing to be known post-mortem for ‘something.’ However in my case, the legacies that were left by my ancestors allowed my family to reconnect and build new relationships based almost completely on our well-documented shared history.

Mini 5 Marissa Taffer

I think that most people want to leave behind a legacy for much the same reason that they practice organized religion. They need to believe that while they are here on earth they are making a significant contribution to society. I think that the indvidual human life is extremely short in the grand scheme of things and that people want to believe that their short existance is meaningful. It also speaks to the idea of becoming famous, I think most people hope that they will be known for all of the good things they did or made while they were alive after they are gone. It shows the significance of a person's life and contributions.
This is why people are always talking about creating a legacy. I also think that naming a building or program after a person speaks to this idea. Look at many of the buildings and colleges here at Drexel, take for example the new name of East Hall, it is now called Anthony Caneris Hall and there are also two scholarships that have been created in his name coinciding with his retirement as VP of Student life this year. Also, after the passing of Antoinette Westfall the college of media arts and design was named after her. The people who's names are on these building are people that generations of Drexel students will know about and hear about their legacy.
For me, I hope that I am able to leave my own legacy and make significant contributions during my life. Here at drexel, in my career and even in my personal life. The idea of leaving a legacy gives me hope that my life is important. I really think this whole concept is about validation and like we talked about in class when we talked about praise and affirmation, people like to hear how great they are. The phrase he/she left his/her mark here is one of the largest compliments a person can hope to recieve. It is something that has been on my mind a lot lately as I am getting ready to leave Drexel and go out into the real world.

Mini Project #5 - Alissa Harris

Note: This was perhaps the hardest of the mini-projects for me, as it's hard to consider why most people want to leave behind a legacy, so I apologize if it seems weaker than a lot of the other things I've submitted.

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I believe that there are a number of factors that contribute to people wanting to leave behind a legacy once they’ve “passed on”, some that come into play much more than others. One of the biggest motivations behind wanting to leave a legacy is pure selfishness – we want to be remembered as being an amazing person and for others to fawn over us after we’re dead; we don’t want to be forgotten by generations to come.

People – both “normal” citizens and celebrities - want to be “immortal”, for their memory to never be forgotten, and in the case of some celebrities, this can often come true (Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean – we seem to only remember the good things they did while they were young, rather than their misdeeds or imperfections later on in life). The legacy can be for better or for worse (on one hand, you have Mother Teresa, who did a world of good for the less fortunate, but on the other hand, you have Hitler, who left behind a legacy of terror) and can vary from person to person.

I think the main reason that people want to leave a legacy is because they want to believe that they led a life that was worth living, that they didn’t waste their entire life toiling away for nothing – they want to be remembered, to remain immortal (figuratively) for generations to come. They want people to associate something with them, whether it be a catchphrase they used to say, a characteristic they once possessed, or perhaps a facial expression or some other sort of mannerism (for example, Elvis’ dance moves or Marilyn Monroe’s blonde bombshell look) that a made a person unique. They want some part of them to live on for future generations, something that people who did not even know the person will remember about them.

Not all people want to leave behind a legacy of doing something completely outlandish or be famous in death, most people just want to be remembered by family and friends and those they loved. I know that when I die, I’d want people to remember me, for the memory of me not to be forgotten even though I’m not physically with the people I love. I don’t personally care what it is I’m remembered for (although I hope it’s something good!), I’d just like to know that the people I love remember me for something, to know that I didn’t lead a pointless life. I don’t care if I’m not famous in the traditional sense (I know I’ll never star in a movie, record a hit album, or cure cancer) but I’d like to be remembered as being “famous” (leaving a legacy) within my own circle of friends or family.

What all of this says about society and us as a whole is that, in general, we’re self-absorbed. Though most people want to leave behind a legacy of doing something good or worthwhile, like saving children from burning buildings or curing world hunger, others just want to leave a legacy behind, not really caring what that legacy is. However, I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing: it’s normal, even for those of us who aren’t famous, to want to “live forever” and it seems like everyone I asked wanted to leave behind some sort of legacy or legend for future generations. People simply want to be remembered once they’re gone, it’s as simple as that. They want their life to have had meaning, to be worthwhile, and to inspire others once they’re gone.