As I discuss in my presentation entitled “M.A. Journey,” the initial inspiration that ultimately led to the inception of this portfolio was my interest in sonic rhetoric and my identity as a musician. The design of this portfolio, emulated by the background visuals as a music composition that is written in a symphonic structure, is intrinsically tied to the inspiration and identity that birthed this project. Likewise, the headers for each section of this portfolio are designed to evoke the central metaphor or core concept of their respective movement. OVERTURE, which heavily features my anecdotal experience performing in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, visualizes not only the interior of a cathedral, but also conceptualizes the literal space of an echo chamber and how sound moves through said space. ALLEGRO CON MOTO, the first movement, projects the narrative arc of my teaching philosophies during my time at FSU; in essence, the philosophies are an intersection between my epistemologies and the scholarship I have encountered, as I represent with the imagery embedded in the background of the header. The visualizing of ANDANTE, the second movement, follows suit—the ideas of “writing” and “transfer” are merged together using an image and icon respectively. Together, they aim to suggest how writing exists in a multitude of situations beyond their traditionally perceived contexts. RONDO, the third movement, is taken from a picture of an art gallery filled with portraits of individuals from all walks of life; it is representative of the inherent multicultural aspect entailed when discussing critical race theory. FINALE, the fourth movement, “echoes” the design of the Overture, although this time representing a concert hall as opposed to a cathedral. As the culminating movement in a symphony, the visual works to directly pay homage the inspiration that piqued my interest in the sonic. And last, but not least, the CODA operates as both a reflection and an end to this journey, aptly represented by FSU’s signature landmark: the Westcott Building. This building that serves as a symbol of campus also represents the literal end of my FSU M.A. journey as I graduate and move onwards into the workplace.

​

I close this portfolio by casting my gaze towards the future, reflecting on my discoveries thus far and exploring where they might go next. I started graduate school with the hopes of furthering my research in multiculturalism, the main driving force behind my undergraduate capstone project. However, I suddenly found myself in a state of loss when I was asked to develop a teaching philosophy at the end of my first semester at FSU. Without any prior teaching experience, I found myself falling back on what I knew: multiculturalism. This led me to produce my first philosophy, which attempted to weave multiculturalism and composition pedagogy together. Unfortunately, without any clear goals about what I wanted students to take away from the course, this vision felt largely ambiguous, opening a window of opportunity for writing transfer to come in and give direction to this void in my pedagogy. Consequently, Dr. Yancey’s “WAC-Transfer” class not only served as a prime site of learning, but also as a space that shaped a personal pedagogy (Philosophy 2) that would continue to permeate across the subsequent courses I taught. However, when I took Dr. Lathan’s “Critical Race Theory” class the following semester, I found myself wanting to return to my academic roots in multiculturalism, albeit this time through a critical race lens. Thus, I crafted my CRT paper in the hopes of conjoining critical race theory with writing transfer, but I felt my attempts to connect these concepts came across as more superficial than successful. Fortunately, I found more success in connecting transfer with attunement in my DIS seminar paper, arguing for the potential in re/shaping student dispositions through a polyphonic attunement to echo chambers. In the wake of theorizing this possibility, I begin working elements into the third philosophy I outline in my first movement. But the outlining of dwelling, resonating, and recording I do is more an observation than a critical enactment of a new philosophy, leading me to the question I now pose in my epilogized Coda: So what? Why do echo chambers matter? While I do argue for a connection between echo chambers and [student] dispositions, the truth is that both of these relatively new concepts require further research.

​

As I discuss in my fourth movement, one of the primary concerns surrounding echo chambers is a lack of conceptual clarity of their defining traits. Brent Kitchens, Steven L. Johnson, and Peter Gray (2020) note that this rudimentary problem has been compounded into “issues of inconsistent measurement and incommensurate research designs” that yield empirical results that are difficult to compare due to their disparate, nonequivalent outcomes (1620). While Kitchens et al. resist a single definition of echo chambers, they do note two constituents of echo chambers to be a lack of information diversity due to a limited source pool and a segregation of ideological viewpoints due to partisan polarization (1622). Yet these “universal” constituents seem to be rooted in discourse on information systems which Kitchens et al. trace back to Cass Sunstein (2001) and Eli Pariser (2011). Kathleen Hall Jamieson and Joseph N. Cappella employ the metaphor in another way, one more attuned to political science: “an echo chamber captures the ways messages are amplified and reverberate through the conservative opinion media” (76). There are two subtle differences in Jamieson and Cappella’s “echo chamber.” First, Jamieson and Cappella are emphasizing the acts in an echo chamber—to amplify and reverberate—as opposed to the limits of the space. Second, while both Jamieson and Cappella and Kitchens et al. observe ideology, Jamieson and Cappella recognize a single ideology as opposed to segregated ideologies. These variations in definition likely stem from the fact that echo chamber is an interdisciplinary metaphor, creating a consequent need for it to be used differently across disciplines. In computer science, Masaki Aida and Ayako Hashizume interpret echo chambers as “a phenomenon in which beliefs that are far from common sense are strengthened within relatively small communities formed within online social networks,” operating as a negatively-charged exigence to justify the need to engineer a countermeasure technology framework. And, when echo chambers appear in my DIS seminar paper, they adopt yet another meaning, drawing on both elements of sonic rhetoric and interdisciplinary scholarship. Echo chambers—as I outline them in the paper—are still spaces in which rhetoric is amplified and reverberated through. They even arguably exist in a “closed” network of information in the sense that they are mostly limited by the participants in the classroom and the circulated scholarship of the course. However, the ideal echo chamber I propose is not so much a simple reinforcement of prior dispositions (as is the case with the preceding definitions), but a space where multivocal attunement can lead to a re/shaping of dispositions. Yet there is still value, and a need, for further exploration into the similarities and differences between all these competing notions of echo chambers to further articulate the classroom echo chamber and work towards a developing a praxis and method for observing and measuring the influence of this phenomenon.

​

Like echo chambers, “dispositions” in writing transfer suffer from a similar instability in definition and terminology. Dana Lynn Driscoll and Jennifer Wells (2012) offer five qualities (outlined in my seminar paper) and four specific dispositions (value, self-efficacy, attribution, and self-regulation) in their seminal work on the subject. However, the use of the word “dispositions” is problematic—there is slippage in the way these terms are used, which become later apparent when Driscoll and Wells refer to these “dispositions” as theories. And, in fact, the four approaches Driscoll and Wells describe seem to constitute as theories: expectancy-value theory examines an student’s determination and choices made about a task or situation; self-efficacy examines people’s self-confidence and belief to accomplish something; attribution theory examines how people attribute cause to events that impact their actions and beliefs; and self-regulation examines the process students go through when choosing how to adapt to new situations. The main question then becomes: Are these theories really “dispositions?” To answer this, a definition of dispositions is first needed. However, the closest Driscoll and Wells get to actually defining the term is by claiming that dispositions are internal student qualities. And unfortunately, the qualities of disposition Driscoll and Wells provide explain what dispositions do, but offers no further clarity as to what they are. Driscoll and Daewoo Jin (2018) attempt to build on the vague definition Driscoll and Wells provide, arguing for their new concept of “learner epistemology” to be another disposition held by students (in addition to the ones Driscoll and Wells state above). In charting these epistemologies, Driscoll and Jin map students’ willingness to engage in new knowledge using their “box under the bed” metaphor (which suggests students compartmentalize their knowledge into specific categories or boxes). I would argue that the concept of learner epistemologies outlined by Driscoll and Jin is a framework more akin to the theories Driscoll and Wells describe; however, the “types of learner epistemologies” they outline—omnidirectional knowledge builder, unidirectional knowledge builder, and fatalist—are dispositions. These epistemology types, then, align with the working definition I run with in my seminar paper, generally defining dispositions as the attitudes, opinions, and beliefs an individual holds. Yet, in reality, the definition I have supplemented only identifies the characteristics (internal qualities) of dispositions, and continues to avoid defining what dispositions are. This, I suspect, is likely because the idea of dispositions follows suit with echo chambers: they resist a singular meaning or definition. However, in order to measure the impact of echo chamber in the classroom, I will need a clearer articulation of what a student disposition is.

​

While I briefly touch upon the many variations of echo chambers and dispositions in my seminar paper, the paper is mainly focused on articulating the need for a fugal attunement in classroom echo chambers through dwelling and resonance. The intention was to elicit the connections I saw between the phenomenon of echo chambers and my work in sonic rhetoric. As a scholar and an instructor, however, I feel compelled to at least consider the ways I might use my understanding of echo chamber to continue developing my pedagogy beyond what I have re/seen in my third philosophy. As I imply in my above analyses on the competing definitions of echo chambers and dispositions, my paper only touches the tip of a rhetorical iceberg centered on the scholarship of echo chambers. The next step in this process, then, would be to take a deeper dive into these two concepts to gain a deeper understanding of how they have been understood among scholars, much in the same way I have did for dwelling and resonance in my seminar paper. I believe that in order to truly connect echo chambers and writing transfer in meaningful ways that can be measured and applied in the classroom, I would need much more space than that of a single seminar paper—it would be suitable to a larger project such as a thesis or dissertation. This portfolio only introduces the complex potential of echo chambers. As I suggest throughout this Coda, there is a host of interdisciplinary scholarship that grapples, debates, and complicates conceptions of echo chamber to explore. And although I am largely focused on my endeavors in the present right now, I see the potential in undertaking such a project in the future.

 

Acknowledgements

​

As I now conclude this portfolio journey that conceptualizes “echo chambers,” I would like to acknowledge all those who have stood by my side in this crazy and profound chapter of my life—I would not be where I am today without you. First, and foremost, I am deeply grateful to my friends and family, who give me the strength and courage to persevere each and every day. To my FSU cohort who have become like a second family: Shelby, Amanda, Chloe, Amory, Gabi, Ashleah, Alex, and Brittany—thank you for letting me share in all the gatherings we’ve celebrated together, from the Super Bowl at Chloe’s to the dog parks at San Luis and Tom Brown to even the virtual Happy Hours I hosted over Zoom. A special thank you to Amory: your continued patience and willingness to share the Johnston Digital Studio during these trying times has given me a space I needed to clear my head and push through with this portfolio. However, I would be remiss to not also mention my counterparts in our cohort’s “troublesome” trio. To Shelby and Amanda: thank you for letting me walk with you on the path our Masters’ degrees. I will never forget the camaraderie we shared learning the ropes in the Digital Studio, meeting up for Indian and Dim Sum, and commiserating together during the portfolio process.

​

Thank you to all of my friends outside of Rhet-Comp who have supported and encouraged me during this process. To Gina: thank you for lending a second pair of eyes to help me look over and work through the many moving parts of this portfolio. To my housemate Sap: thank you for being open and receptive to my admittedly rigorous standard of living, even amidst a pandemic. A special shoutout to Dallas, Adi, and OP for our weekly virtual meetups during these periods of social distancing and self-isolation. Our hangouts are steadfast positive I know I can always look forward to as I continue share with you my love of Marvel and Disney. To the other two members of my Sea-Salt Trio: Dallas (again!) and Rachelle—thank you for giving me a space to talk about my undying love of Kingdom Hearts (and now Final Fantasy VII too). Whether we’re near or far away, I know our hearts will always be connected. And, to my dearest and best friend Mario: you have been a constant and enduring role model in my journey through both my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. Without fail, you are always there for me when I am at my worst, and you continue to inspire me to push the limits of what I am capable of.

​

Of course, this journey would not have been possible without the careful guidance and generous understanding of my mentors. To Dr. Neal—you are the shepherd of the Rhet-Comp program. I am indebted to you for helping me navigate the administrative intricacies of FSU and chart the course of my Master’s degree. Thank you for your continual understanding and flexibility as both your student and program assistant. To my major professor, Dr. Graban: thank you for your investment and dedication in my learning as I grappled with the synthesis and articulation of my thoughts, both in my DIS and portfolio process. You have always challenged me in times when I needed it and believed in me in times when I began to doubt myself. Your time and feedback have been invaluable to my journey of self-discovery as a writer, and they are efforts which I hope are reflected in this portfolio. To the other members of my committee—Dr. Fleckenstein and Dr. Dominguez—thank you for your interest and eagerness in my projects and work. I know the experience and insight you bring to the table will ultimately help me become a better writer. Last, but not least, to my two amazing parents—Tess and Jay—who have always stood by my side and supported my decisions. Thank you for the incredible hard work you have done over the years in raising me. I know it has not been an easy journey, but I hope I have made you proud. And thank you to all my readers who read this—I am honored to be able to share with you this brief, but significant chapter of my life.