By Clara Jeske When Dr. Marlana Portolano first tookher Deaf daughter, Lena, to a Deaf CatholicMass, how that Mass transformed Lena’sreligious experience provided the impetusfor Portolano’s newest book. Portolano, who has been a professor inPRWR for seventeen years, began learningdifferent forms of sign language when sheand her husband adopted Lena fromUkraine. Lena is now twenty-four, andwhen she was sixteen and preparing forConfirmation, the family switched from ahearing parish to a Deaf one in Landover,Maryland. “Ease of communication, inclusion she

(continued on p. 5)

Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Inside This Issue

RememberingLeslie Plajzerp. 6

Gunning tostudy scientificcommunicationin classroomsp. 7

Design classcreates, pitcheslayouts for real-world clientp. 9

Portolano's book reveals Deaf Catholic history

Delay. Cancellation. Adaptation. Faced with a pandemic and itsprotocols, PRWR students and facultyworked through a curriculum forcedonline. Students met for Zoom get-togethers. Faculty learned newteaching software and applications.The program, once housed in theCollege of Liberal Arts building onTowson’s campus, became scatteredthroughout dozens of Marylandhomes. At least one student caught COVID-19, and worked through it while in

quarantine. PRWR students who arealso parents managed children,themselves learning from home. Jobschanged; some students lost workinghours. PRWR interns worked remotely,never meeting co-workers andsupervisors face-to-face. Our lives were much as others. Weendured delays and cancellations. Weadapted. To read how the pandemicchanged work and life in PRWR,please see page 2. –Michael Downs, program director

PRWR weathers the pandemic

Baltimore Writers'Conference cancelled,hopes to return in 2021

For one Saturday everyNovember, the Liberal Artsbuilding has become a placewhere more than 100 writers canconnect over a shared admirationof words and stories at theBaltimore Writers’ Conference(BWC). In 2020, the writers nevercame. With PRWR as primary sponsorof the BWC, the PRWR creativewriting faculty are the organizersof this annual literary event thathosts writers from around theregion. These writers gather atthe BWC to discuss their craft,learn from a talented line-up ofguest speakers, get quickcritiques on their writing, andnetwork with other BWCparticipants. "We get to see old friends, in away,” says Professor MichaelDowns," and there’s just so muchenergy in the air about writing,that, I think, is really exciting andfun to be a part of.” The 2020 BWC facedcancellation when Towsonrestricted on-campus guests inresponse to the coronaviruspandemic. With the venue alreadybooked, thoughts of a keynotespeaker in mind, and excitementfor a new system of onlineregistration, PRWR’s creativewriting faculty were conflictedabout how to move forward with

2020's conference. They spoke ofpossibly finding an off-campusvenue or hosting the eventvirtually. “And we all decided that wethink what everybody loves aboutthe Baltimore Writers’ Conferenceis the face-to-face connections,”says Downs. “We just thought abunch of webinars wouldn’t benearly the same thing. And with allthe other pressures the pandemicis putting on all of us, it justseemed it would be best to let itgo for a year.” The hope for the BWC is toreturn in 2021. This means that ifTowson’s guest restrictionschange by spring, PRWR can beginpreparing next fall's conference.

—Briana Richert

Students receive accessto Adobe Design Suite for free at home

Thanks to Professor LeslieHarrison, her design students hada shred of normalcy with homeaccess to their usual programsoftware. With the semester online,Harrison worried how her PRWR625, Design Layout & Productioncourse would function in a remotesetting. She usually teaches thiscourse in a computer lab wherestudents have access to softwarelike Adobe Creative Cloud. Adobeis an essential part of the designcourse, she says, but the issuewas that students were unable to

Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Pandemic alters work, life for PRWR access the university’s licensedsoftware from off-campuscomputers. Harrison didn’t wanther students to have to pay thehigh cost of personal licenses forthe software. “I started asking about this inthe spring and summer and gotnowhere,” says Harrison. “Adobehad provided home access tostudents for a while early in thepandemic but then stopped. Ikept pushing.” Harrison emailed nearly everyTowson University departmentand faculty member who couldpossibly help with this issue.Eventually, in August, the Officeof Technology Services (OTS)offered to pay for the individualstudent licenses. The studentshad access to the software bythe second week of the semesterafter OTS pushed through somepaperwork. Students such as Jenna Harrity,who is on the Technical Writingand Information Design track,were notably grateful to haveaccess to Adobe for this class. “Had I not had the opportunitythrough Towson–and because ofProfessor Harrison'sdetermination–I wouldn't havegotten the chance to work onAdobe Creative Cloud,” saysHarrity. “I looked forward to newassignments because workingwith this software became acreative outlet.”

—Briana Richert (continued on p. 3)

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PRWR student marriedin no-guest wedding

On a rainy Thursday lastOctober, PRWR student BrynnDevereaux and her fiancé TravisWard went to a Baltimore Countycourthouse, met a Justice of thePeace inside, and took theirwedding vows in front of exactlynobody. Deveraux, who is on the Writingfor the Public and Private Sectorstrack, had always wanted a smallceremony—she’s worked in eventplanning before, and says that thestress of arranging venues,catering, schedules, and so onmade it hard to enjoy the actualevents. She didn’t want that kindof stress for her wedding day. She and Travis always planneda no-guest wedding, so thepandemic didn’t change that. Thebiggest change, she says, was that instead of going to arestaurant after the wedding, theyordered takeout from Bread andCircuses, a Towson restaurant,and went home. “It monsooned that Thursday,”Deveraux says, “but we went withthe saying that rain is good luckfor your wedding. It was a nice,sweet, simple day.” Part of her job, Deveraux says,involves photo restoration.People regularly bring her photosfrom their grandparents’ or great-grandparents’ weddings forrestoration, and they often mention how simple and plain the

Kraków, he would have researched legends within their geographicaland cultural contexts to gain adeeper understanding of thestories. But when March came withtravel restrictions and a globalhealth crisis, it was clear anoverseas trip would beimpossible. “At first, we thought January(2021),” Downs says, “but thenthat window started to close. Iwondered if I’d have to give up theFulbright.” In November, however,governments in Poland and theUnited States agreed to allowFulbright selectees to defer theirawards. Now, Downs plans to visit Poland in September 2021. He's excited, he says, to startthis world-shifting experience andimmersion into another country'sliterary culture. His host institutionis Jagiellonian University, Poland’soldest, founded in 1364.

(continued on p. 4)

Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Pandemic alters PRWR life, work (cont.)

Prof. Michael Downs (foreground, in orange) decided tostudy Polish folktales after hearing several of them in 2017, while on a 109-mile bicycle tour of Polish medieval castles.

pictures and ceremonies were. Allshe sees, she says, is how joyfuleveryone was at their weddings. "I’ll always look back on that dayand remember how happy I was,”Deveraux says. “I hope peoplecome out of the pandemicrealizing you can still have ameaningful day without it havingto be a big production.”

—Clara Jeske

Downs anticipates usingFulbright in Fall 2021

Selected for a Fulbright inFebruary 2020, Professor MichaelDowns thought he’d be in Polandstudying folktales at the start oflast September–but then cameCOVID-19. Downs, PRWR director,proposed a Fulbright project towrite short stories adapted fromPolish folktales, such as the storyof the evil king whowas eaten by miceor the knight turnedto stone for hisvanity. TheFulbright Program,a U.S. culturalexchange program,awarded him withtheir grant thatallows selectstudents, teachers,and professionalsto study, teach, orconduct researchabroad. With a five-month residency in

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her as foreign. “In a respectful exchange,”Lawrence said in her panel,“there’s a beautiful kind oflinguistic negotiation that goes onbetween speakers of differentlanguages. It’s like a dance…Yetdespite many of these trickyexchanges, I never felt theexpectation put upon me tochange my accent to be heard—that was, until I started interactingwith speech devices.” Organized by LiquidArchitecture and Unsound 2020,the conference MachineListening: An Open Curriculumbrought together writers,teachers, and artists for a seriesof Zoom panels about how andwhy our computers listen to us,and what that means for thefuture of data control andautomation. Lawrence spoke inthe “Lessons in How (not) to Be Heard” session, in which she shared a series of her interactionswith Alexa.

"None of my clear speechstrategies worked,” she toldpanelists and participants.“Slower, louder, and hyper-articulated speech was oftenmistaken by digital listeners asangry or distorted speech. And soit began to dawn on me that indigital spaces, I was not beingheard.” In one example, Lawrence askedAlexa to spell “Towson” fourseparate times, slightly changingher vowels each time. Alexa heardToast, Tullson, Chosen, andTausan. This was just one dailyway in which machinesmisunderstand her. “To impose one’s accent uponanother is violent,” she said. "Yetspeech technology demands thisof non-standard speakers all thetime ... Accent bias is hard codedinto these devices.” Though Lawrence says shemissed the feeling of an in-personconference, she says the digitalone was incredible. “I hadn'tparticipated in a conference thatengaged artists, academics,technologists etc., around a singletheme, before,” she said in a laterinterview. “It was fascinating tohear how a problem and potentialsolutions could be representedthrough different lenses acrossdifferent media. My own workwas validated as people shared(in the chat) similar speechtechnology experiences.”

–Clara Jeske

Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

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"Every time I go somewherenew, it changes how I understandthe world to work,” says Downs.“To be able to live for five monthsin a completely different country,I’m really looking forward toseeing how that changes me andmy work.”

—Briana Richert

Lawrence joinsinternational, multimediaconference via Zoom

Dr. Halcyon Lawrence spokeabout accent bias in technology–and her frustrations with Alexa–ata global, virtual conference onmachine listening in October. In her presentation, Lawrencespoke about how she was bornand raised in Trinidad and Tobago where she grew up speaking bothEnglish and Creole. When shemoved to Chicago to start hergraduate study in 2008, she hadto begin navigating conversationsknowing that her accent marked

Dr. Halycon Lawrence (top right) presenting a recorded interaction with Alexa.See her full presentation here. (her participation begins at ~15:20)

Pandemic alters PRWR life, work (cont.)

sign language was at the SanSalvador monastery in 16th-century Spain. This starting pointbegins a centuries-long history ofCatholic educators striving toreach Deaf people across Europe. Portolano chose to write ahistory of Deafness through aCatholic lens because of her ownfaith, but also because, as shewrites, “the history of DeafCatholics bears witness to theneed for inclusivecommunication.” Everyone, sheargues in the book, should be ableto access not only the Word ofGod but also an education in theirown language.

The history of DeafCatholics bears witnessto the need for inclusivecommunication.

“Because of a growingunderstanding of Deaf people,”Portolano writes, “the church isbecoming more inclusive and(some would argue) truer to itstheology of love for the poor,redemption of those who areostracized, and equality in the eyesof God.” Prayer in sign language, shesays, is its own physical poetry. It’san intimate meditation and a formof art. “Deafness and communication insign language is literallyembodied,” she says, “and writingseems to separate the language

could take for granted, and afeeling of normalcy replaced theisolation and alienation she hadexperienced at our mainstreamhearing church (and, truly, in theworld at large),” Portolano writesin the preface. “It was clear to meand my family that this is the waythe church community shouldreceive every individual.” Be Opened!: The CatholicChurch and Deaf Culture mapsthe global history and heritage ofDeaf Catholic culture, from thefirst missionaries to teach signlanguage to modern-day Deafchurches. Published by CatholicUniversity Press in December2020, the book’s title refers to theonly Bible passage containingcommunication with a Deafperson. Jesus puts his fingers ina Deaf man’s ears, spits, andtouches the man’s tongue. Hethen says in Aramaic,“ephphatha”–which translates to“be opened”– and the Deaf manis miraculously made to hear. “I wanted to write about thehistory of Deaf people in aninstitution that depends on thewritten word,” Portolano says ofBe Opened, which took her sixyears to write. The subject also fitwith her background as a scholarof rhetoric and oratory. “I felt thatI was the person to write thisbook.” She recounts in the book howCatholic missionaries operatedthe first schools to teach sign.The first record of education in

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Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Portolano reveals Deaf history (cont.) from us. Sign language brings itback into your body and reallymakes it one with your identity,and that can be a very spiritualand moving experience.” In the book, Portolano also tellsstories of Deaf Catholiccommunities that are alive andthriving today across the globe.She hopes these stories willinform readers about the fullnessof Deaf life and culture. Be Opened argues that Deafnessis a disability in that society isdesigned for people who hear, butit is also a different way of beingfully human. “There’s so muchthat hearing people of all stripescan learn by thinking aboutDeafness as a culture,” Portolanosays. “We all depend on eachother.” Portolano, who will retire fromteaching after the Spring 2021semester, plans to continuewriting. She also hopes to travelinternationally to visit Deafcommunities where she’s madeconnections. “Today, in many countries in theWest and increasingly in Asia,Deaf Catholic communities arestriving to help Deaf peopleanswer their true callings in thechurch and in the world,” shewrites in Be Opened, “...And what’smore, they will reach out to otherabandoned, disabled, andexcluded populations. May thesefuture pastoral leaders beencouraged to answer their call to“‘live as good shepherds thatknow their sheep.’”

By Clara Jeske On the day of my first short-story workshop in PRWR 651, Iarrived at school tense andnervous. I’d written a twenty-fourpage piece and was worried I’dbitten off too much and that thewhole thing was no good. As I approached theclassroom, my classmate LesliePlajzer stood up from the benchin the hallway and astonished mewith a tight hug before I couldspeak. She thanked me for thestory I’d written. She was gratefulthat I’d tried to write withempathy and vulnerability; whenshe laid a hand on my arm andtold me that she hadn’t wantedthe story to end, that I hadnothing to fear, I felt so loved inthat moment that I almost cried. That will always be my favoritememory of Leslie. Leslie died June 10, 2020 at theage of sixty-four, following healthcomplications that had led her towithdraw from the springsemester. She was a PRWRstudent for a semester and a half.Even in such a short time, shebonded with teachers andclassmates, becoming wellknown and loved. “Leslie and I became quickfriends on the first night ofWriting Short Fiction,” saysMadeline St. Clair, 23, who is onthe Creative Writing track. “It wasstrange for me to make a friendlike her–not because of the agedifference, but because of howquickly it happened. We always

In memory of Leslie Plajzer, 1955-2020sat next to each other and alwaystook the elevator down to the firstfloor. Never the stairs.” “I still have her voicemails on myphone,” she says. Leslie, knowing Madeline workedan emotionally exhausting full-timejob at a car dealership, called herevery day to check on her. “Every time a customer came in,I’d have to put my phone down,” St.Clair says. “Sometimes I was onlyaway for a few moments, andsometimes it was much longer. Butno matter how long I was gone, I’dpick the phone back up and therewas Leslie—still at the other end.” “She loved everyone,” says St.Clair. “Cared for everyone as though she had knownthem for years,remembered their namesa week into the semesterwhile professors werestill learning. I don’t knowif I’ll ever come acrossthat kind of genuinefriendliness ever again,but I am so thankful tohave gotten to feel thewarmth that is LesliePlajzer. And because ofLeslie, I tell all my friendsI love them.” Leslie was generous. Ifshe suspected anyonewas hungry during breaksin class, she’d offer sparechange for vendingmachine snacks. If students were absent,she’d offer to send them her notes. And in writing

workshops, she’d say somethingpositive about every single piece. I met Leslie in my first class ofFall 2019 during one-on-oneclassmate introductions. Ilearned that she lived in MountWashington with her cat, had adaughter named Sarah, and wasnervous because it was her firsttime in school in forty years;she'd retired and was there topursue creative writing. She’dworked for twenty-five years as aparole officer in BaltimoreCounty. Leslie’s work experienceshaped both her fiction and hernonfiction. She was accustomed (continued on p. 7)

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Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Photo courtesy of Bobby Anderson.

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Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

to wearing a bulletproof vest tomeet clients in potentiallydangerous areas of Baltimore, andshe approached those days withthe same equanimity andkindness she brought to the

classroom. “When I helped it wasbecause I had been helped,” shewrote in a paper in her firstsemester. “When I gave peoplebreaks it was because so manybreaks had been given to me.

Gunning to puzzle over sciencecommunications in spring sabbatical

By Briana Richert Dr. Sarah Gunning’s sabbaticalproject will reverse her role in theclassroom by placing her instudent desks as she learnsinnovative ways that students andteachers talk about science. Going into her eighth year atTowson University and with PRWRas a professor of technicalcommunication, Gunning will takesabbatical leave in Spring 2021.She will sit in on TU sciencecourses to watch how professorsuse language and storytelling tocommunicate scientificinformation. She came to the ideain part while teaching her English318 undergraduate course,Technical and Scientific Writing,where she often findsenvironmental science andbiology students to be among thebest writers in class. “I just love their stories,”Gunning says. “So, I figured Icould spend my sabbatical seeingwhat those teachers are doing,how they’re getting their studentsto practice working with language.”

Her plan, she says, is to workwith Towson professors whoteach chemistry, biologicalsciences, environmental science,and physics. Gunning also wantsto observe courses taught inworkshops, laboratories,lectures, and seminars at bothupper and lower levels ofundergraduate study. In theseclassrooms, she will documentprofessors’ teaching strategies. Gunning doesn’t know whatshe’ll find. She imagines shemight discover teachingtechniques like those shenoticed at a summer workshoprun by the Faculty AcademicCenter of Excellence at Towson(FACET). These includedteaching scientific processesthrough hand-drawn diagramand explaining the functions of acell through poetry and haikus. “So, I’m just kind of connectinghow these little pieces fit together and overlap in ways thatwe might not have sat down andthought about,” she says. “And itjust really shows howeverything’s connected,

In memory of Leslie Plajzer (cont.)When I kept a client afloat it wasbecause so many people had keptme afloat. ... and the only reason Icould see souls was becausealong the way, I had found myown.”

especially at the liberal arts level.” She is uncertain and excited aftermore than a year of planning herproject. Gunning has never beforestudied social interactionsbetween people in a specificsetting. In the research world, thiskind of open-ended work is called“ethnography.” Gunning’s pastwork includes many start-and-endprojects like a five-year study onthe communication practices ofnon-profit organizations andanother project considering the functionality of scientific posters. But even though she is mostcomfortable in non-ethnographicresearch, she says she looksforward to the challenge ofpuzzling together herundergraduate experience as amicrobiology major with her workin technical communication. As anundergrad, she didn’t have muchof an opportunity to communicatewith her professors. “I remember feeling very muchlike a number, where it was ‘get in,get out as soon as you can,’" shesays. “The biology professors here (continued on p. 8)

are just really engaged with their workin a way that I think I maybe didn’t findas an undergrad. So what it means tome is probably explaining that missinglink inbetween my undergraduateexperience as a budding scientist and[my] pathway into technicalcommunications.” She also hopes that what she learnswill help improve the transfer ofinformation from her to her studentsand vice versa.

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Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Gunning puzzles over sabbatical (cont.)

Left: Example of what Dr.Gunning considers a "good"scientific poster, with themain findings and visualscentered and easy to bothsee and interpret. Right:Example of a traditionaldesign for a scientific poster,with walls of text in dense,academic language. Imagesfrom this lecture aboutresearch poster design.

EditorMichael Downs, PRWR director

WritersClara Jeske, Briana Richert,PRWR graduate assistants

Design and LayoutClara Jeske, Briana Richert Masthead logoBrianna R. Rostkowski,PRWR alum (2018)

WORD! is the newsletterof Towson University'sProfessional Writing graduateprogram.

For additional informationabout the program, writeto prwr@towson.eduor contact Michael Downs,program director,at mdowns@towson.edu

see this story in theirhead and get what’s intheir head to matchwhat’s in my head?’That’s really difficult,”Gunning says. “So, Ithink that’s my bigpuzzle piece that I’minterested in obsessingabout for the next yearor so.”

"I thought, 'how do you help someone

By Briana Richert PRWR students in Fall 2020spent the semester creatingdesign options for the BaltimoreReview, a nationally distributedliterary journal. When Professor Leslie Harrisonteaches Design Layout &Production, she regularly looks fornew ways to incorporate real-world experience into the projectsthat she assigns to her PRWR 625students. With the course’s focuson print design and production,Harrison thought of the BaltimoreReview, an online journal thatcollects its editions into a singleannual print book, as a possibleresource for her fall

Towson University Professional Writing Newsletter Volume 26 Issue 1

Harrison's design class offers new layouts for Baltimore Review

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semester students. She reachedout to the founder and senioreditor, Barbara Westwood Diehl, tosee if she had any interest incollaborating with the class tocreate a new design for theBaltimore Review print book. “I was delighted to know of thestudents’ interest in working withus,” says Diehl, who has a strongrelationship with PRWR, regularlyparticipating in the BaltimoreWriters’ Conference and offeringBaltimore Review internships toPRWR students. With this project, the studentstook skills they learned inHarrison’s class and applied them.Harrison assigned the students

solve for them.” Working in their small teams,the class created three individualdesigns. For PRWR student KatieIser, who is in the TechnicalWriting track, it was her firstexperience with this type ofdesign work. “It has been challenging, butalso a realistic reflection of whatit is like to work on an actualdesign team,” says Iser. “Thisclass has definitely improved myrelationship to design. I feel weare encouraged to play and tryand actually do design ratherthan think and study it. It hasdefinitely made me feel morecapable.” After the class determined theirsample designs, they presentedtheir work to Diehl, to share withthe Baltimore Review’s editorialstaff. Based on the feedback, theBaltimore Review and thestudents may decide on a newdesign template for the journaland continue working togetheron coming issues. "This is how graphic designworks in the world,” saysHarrison. “You are alwaysworking for a client, and there isalways a lot of give-and-take as adesign concept evolves.” The PRWR design classplanned to have a finishedversion of their work by the endof the semester.

into three teams,each acting as acontract designteam and treatingthe BaltimoreReview as theirclient. Harrisonsays that she gaveher students freerein over theproject. “The studentsand I decided on anapproach, and it isentirely in theirhands,” saysHarrison. “My job isto liaise with theeditor, oversee thework, and problem-