ABSTRACT
In my real life, I am a writer.1 And when I’m at work, I’m also a rhetorician. For me, these identities complement each other, like peanut butter and jelly, and much, if not all, of my life is tinted by these rosy terministic screens. In addition to rhetoric courses, I sometimes teach literature classes, and in these classrooms where the tradition is to privilege others’ writing over one’s own, I still think first as a writer and second as a rhetorician even as I assume my role as a reader.
