Christie Vessells

Ana June
English 1110 – 502
July 25, 2020
Average Essay Score: 91%

Dear Professor Ana,

Hello! My name is Christie Vessells, and I am a 42-year-old student returning to UNM

for the first time since 1998. I have always been a voracious reader. I remember my mom taking
us to the library behind the Wendy’s on Wyoming when we were young. I loved library day. I
had a little plastic woven tote bag that I got to fill up with as many books as would fit. Not only
that, but I also had my very own library card! We did not have a lot of money when I was
growing up, but I got to travel all over the world every time I opened a book. Reading was my
fave. Writing, however, not so much.
My issues with writing have always been how to start. That was especially apparent
during the evaluation essay. That was the one that I struggled with the most. As I sat down to do
my revision (a.k.a a complete rewrite), I started to think about exactly why I had such a hard
time. It is not like I do not have values, or feel shy about expressing them. I determined that
because I was not sure of who I was as a writer, it was hard to decide on a direction for my work.
Learning to trust my evaluations, and my ability to produce college-level writing has been a lot
of work.
I wrote a lot in my high-school days, but who remembers that much from 20 years ago?
As we dove in, I was surprised to find quite a bit had remained, but I also had a lot to learn.
Student learning outcome 1 is to be able to analyze communication through reading and writing
skills. The very first reading we did, Driving William Stafford, was a little bit over my head at
first. But then I did a few Google searches (critical reading), learned about the other writers that
were referenced in the essay, and it made more sense! The second part of that is analyzing
communication through writing skills. That is where I feel the journals came into play. They
were a safe space that I could talk to you about ideas, search for the right words, and do some
writing that was not going to be judged in any way. It was just for me.
The biggest takeaway for me this semester is tied into learning outcome 2: Employ
writing processes such as planning, organizing, composing, and revising. Honestly, the last paper
was such a mess because I second-guessed myself until the last minute, then rushed through the
assignment without putting in the work. So, when I started the rewrite, I followed the PowerPoint
you did for the evaluation argument step-by-step. There is a reason you are the teacher! Getting
my thoughts and evidence sorted before starting to write helped me be more persuasive. I feel
more confident about it now. I am going to be anxiously waiting until I get your notes back,
however. Lol!
 I know we did not do much with the last student learning outcome, which is learning how
to identify and correct grammatical and mechanical errors in my writing. However, the videos
we watched were highly entertaining and helped to trigger some long-dormant grammar skills!
You also changed my life with the introduction of Grammarly. The one thing that I am still
struggling with is the stupid passive voice! I do not fully understand why I do that and how to fix
it. I got agitated while I was doing the revision for the evaluation argument and just hid that
prompt. If you have any further suggestions, I am always receptive!
As for the revision of my personal creative essay, I did go through and edit it with
Grammarly before we got the full instructions for this portfolio. You were right, there were
several places I did not have commas, and the wording was slightly off. I got it down to just
under 750 words, which is the cut off for Brevity submissions. Then we got the instructions for
the portfolio, and you challenged me to up it a bit. I had struggled with the tense in the
beginning. I decided to go back and write it in the past tense. To me, it almost seems to heighten
the sentiment a bit. But I do like both. I am interested to see which one you like better, so I
included both revisions for you. I hope that is ok.
Although I still have problems starting, it is more now because I have so much to say,
and less out of fear. Knowledge is power, they say. I want to take this last opportunity to thank
you so much for your guidance and feedback. I have not written this much in years, and it has
awoken a piece of my brain that only wants to know more. Next semester should be fun! Take
care!!

All my gratitude,
Christie
 GRADED Personal Essay

“You are gonna have to get up early if you want to find the good stuff” my mom tells me

Friday night as she sits in her chair weaving toothbrush rugs. I sigh a bit to myself as I make my

bed on the couch in the living room that is occupied during the day by her four chihuahuas. “I

know mom. That’s why I’m staying the night.” Our relationship has come a long way since I was

a sarcastic, self-absorbed teen yearning to flee my parents’ house and get out on my own. We

have come to enjoy each other’s company as I continue my journey of self-maturation, and a

favorite activity of ours is treasure hunting. These are all day affairs punctuated with stops for

drive-thru ice cream cones and energy drinks purchased from gas stations. We never have

anything specific in mind, but that is no matter.

We stop at every garage or estate sale we can find, driving up and down city streets

hunting for neon colored signs. Some with oversized lettering, some with just arrows. When we

spot one a little jolt of excitement runs from the tops of our heads to the tips of our toes. My

mom jerkily parallel parks slightly too far from the curb while I crane my neck trying to scope

out the goods. We walk into the estate sale hand in hand, singing the song that had been playing

just moments before on the car stereo. She plants a kiss on my cheek, wishes me luck, and

spirits away on her solo expedition leaving me to start my own hunt.

 I find the box of CDs sitting in a back bedroom, and I flash back to the countless hours I

spent listening to loud, angry music in my back bedroom. Navigating the morose vastness of my

teenage years alone. Trying to get her attention. Turning the knob further and further to the right,

volume being my chosen weapon in this war. The banging coming from the other side of the

door seemingly in time with the music blaring from my speakers.

“CHRISTIE!!!!!!”

“TURN THAT SHIT DOWN!!!!”

“CHRISTIE!!!

“LOOK AT THIS!!”

My mother calls for me from another room like we were at home, pulling me back to the

present. I walk through a narrow doorway and she shows me a cabinet full of all kinds of

kitchen ware. We sift through someone else’s memories, imagining how these objects could

overlay themselves onto memories of our own. I come across a huge stockpot that is perfect for

canning. We recently made a batch of bourbon peaches, and she taught me from start to finish

how to do it. I am on a mission to build up my portfolio of life skills, and this is just one of the

many I have learned from my mother.

We go through every nook and cranny in the house, not wanting to let any treasure

escape discovery. After we are sure we hunted everywhere high and low, we gather our finds and
get in line to pay. When it is our turn, we discover everything is 50% off because it is the last

day, adding the first layer of sweetness to our new shared memory. We head home with a trunk

full of rescued treasures. Two blocks away from her house she spots a dayglo pink sign with the

words “MOVING SALE!! EVERYTHING MUST GO!!!” She gives me a look of excitement

and I know there is no dissuading her.

It has been a long day. My feet and back hurt, I miss my dogs and my wife, and I had

already spent way too much money. My mom jerkily parallel parks slightly too far from the curb

and turns off the car. We walk in, me slightly behind and annoyed just like when I was a teen.

My mom wanders off and I strike up a conversation with the woman who is running the sale.

“Is that your mom?” she asks me.

“Yeah” I answer.

“You look like her. My mom and I used to go garage sale-ing too. This was her house.”

I look at her and suddenly see the grief etched into the lines around her face, the watery

film of tears starting to cover her eyes. My heart lurches and I feel fear. Where is my mom?

“CHRISTIE!!”

“PUPPY!! COME LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!!”

My lips start to smile as I turn to see what treasure has sparked the delight in her voice.
 1st REVISION OF Personal Essay

“You are gonna have to get up early if you want to find the good stuff,” my mom tells me

Friday night. She is sitting in her chair, weaving toothbrush rugs. I sigh a bit to myself as I make

my bed on the couch in the living room occupied during the day by her four chihuahuas. “I know

Mom, that’s why I’m staying the night.” Our relationship has come a long way since I was a

sarcastic, self-absorbed teen yearning to flee my parents’ house and get out on my own. We have

come to enjoy each other’s company as I continue my journey of self-maturation, and a favorite

activity of ours is treasure hunting. These are all-day affairs punctuated with stops for drive-thru

ice cream cones and energy drinks purchased from gas stations. We never have anything specific

in mind, but that is no matter.

We stop at every garage or estate sale we can find, driving up and down city streets

hunting for neon-colored signs; Some with oversized lettering, some with just arrows. When we

spot one, a little jolt of excitement runs from the tops of our heads to our toes' tips. My mom

jerkily parallel parks slightly too far from the curb while I crane my neck, trying to scope out the

goods. We walk into the estate sale hand in hand, singing the song that had been playing just

moments before on the car stereo. She plants a kiss on my cheek, wishes me luck, and spirits

away on her solo expedition, leaving me to start my hunt.

I find the box of CDs sitting in a back room, and I flashback to the countless hours I spent

listening to loud, angry music in my back bedroom. Navigating the melancholy vastness of my

teenage years alone, trying to get her attention. Turning the knob further and further to the right.
Volume is my chosen weapon in this war. The banging coming from the other side of the door is

seemingly in time with the music blaring from my speakers.

“CHRISTIE!!!!!!”

“TURN THAT SHIT DOWN!!!!”

“CHRISTIE!!!

“LOOK AT THIS!!”

My mother calls for me from another room like we were at home, pulling me back to the

present. I walk through a narrow doorway, and she shows me a cabinet full of all kinds of

kitchenware. We sift through someone else’s memories, imagining how these objects could

overlay themselves onto memories of our own. I come across a massive stockpot that is perfect

for canning. We recently made a batch of bourbon peaches, and she taught me from start to

finish how to do it. I am on a mission to build up my portfolio of life skills, and this is just one of

the many I have learned from my mother.

We go through every nook and cranny in the house, not wanting to let any treasure

escape discovery. After we are sure we hunted everywhere high and low, we gather our finds and

get in line to pay. When it is our turn, we discover everything is 50% off because it is the last

day, adding the first layer of sweetness to our new shared memory. We head home with a trunk

full of rescued treasures. Two blocks away from her house, she spots a dayglo pink sign with the

words “MOVING SALE!! EVERYTHING MUST GO!!!” She gives me a look of excitement,

and I know there is no dissuading her.

 It has been a long day. My feet and back hurt, I miss my dogs and my wife, and I have

already spent way too much money. My mom jerkily parallel parks slightly too far from the curb

and turns off the car. We walk in. Me slightly behind and annoyed just like when I was a teen.

My mom wanders off, and I strike up a conversation with the woman running the sale.

“Is that your mom?” she asks me.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“You look like her. My mom and I used to go garage sale-ing too. This was her house.”

I look at her and suddenly see the grief etched into the lines around her face, a thin film

of tears starting to cover her eyes. My heart lurches, and I feel fear. Where is MY mom?

“CHRISTIE!!”

“PUPPY!! COME LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!!”

My lips start to smile as I turn to see what treasure has sparked the delight in her voice.
 2nd REVISION OF Personal Essay

The Treasure Hunt

“You are gonna have to get up early if you want to find the good stuff,” my mom told me

Friday night as she sat in her chair, weaving toothbrush rugs. I sighed a bit to myself as I made

my bed on the couch in the living room occupied during the day by her four chihuahuas. “I know

Mom, that’s why I’m staying the night.” Our relationship had come a long way since I was a

sarcastic, self-absorbed teen yearning to flee my parents’ house and get out on my own. We had

come to enjoy each other’s company as I continued my journey of self-maturation, and a favorite

activity of ours was treasure hunting. They were all-day affairs punctuated with stops for drive-

thru ice cream cones and energy drinks purchased from gas stations. We never had anything

specific in mind, but that was no matter.

We stopped at every garage or estate sale we could find, driving up and down city streets

hunting for neon-colored signs; Some with oversized lettering, some with just arrows. When we

spotted one, a little jolt of excitement would run from the tops of our heads to our toes' tips. My

mom would jerkily parallel park slightly too far from the curb while I craned my neck, trying to

scope out the goods. We walked into the estate sale hand in hand, singing the song that had been

playing just moments before on the car stereo. She planted a kiss on my cheek, wished me luck,

and spirited away on her solo expedition, leaving me to start my hunt.

 I found the box of CDs sitting in a back bedroom, and I flashed back to the countless

hours I spent listening to loud, angry music in my back bedroom. Navigating the melancholy

vastness of my teenage years alone, trying to get her attention. Turning the knob further and

further to the right, volume was my chosen weapon in that war. The banging coming from the

other side of the door was seemingly in time with the music blaring from my speakers.

“CHRISTIE!!!!!!”

“TURN THAT SHIT DOWN!!!!”

“CHRISTIE!!!

“LOOK AT THIS!!”

My mother called me from another room like we were at home, and it pulled me back to

the present. I walked through a narrow doorway, and she showed me a cabinet full of all kinds

of kitchenware. We sifted through someone else’s memories, imagining how those objects could

overlay themselves onto memories of our own. I came across a massive stockpot that was

perfect for canning. We had recently made a batch of bourbon peaches, and she taught me from

start to finish how to do it. I had been on a mission to build up my portfolio of life skills, and that

was just one of the many I learned from my mother.

We went through every nook and cranny in the house, not wanting to let any treasure

escape discovery. After we were sure we hunted everywhere high and low, we gathered our finds

and got in line to pay. When it was our turn, we discovered everything was 50% off because it

was the last day of the sale. It added the first layer of sweetness to our new shared memory. We

headed home with a trunk full of rescued treasures. Two blocks away from her house, she
spotted a dayglo pink sign with the words “MOVING SALE!! EVERYTHING MUST GO!!!”

She gave me a look of excitement, and I knew there is no dissuading her.

It had been a long day. My feet and back were hurting, I missed my dogs and my wife,

and I had already spent way too much money. My mom jerkily parallel parked slightly too far

from the curb and turned off the car. We walked in, me slightly behind and annoyed just like

when I was a teen. My mom wandered off, and I started up a conversation with the woman

running the sale.

“Is that your mom?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“You look like her. My mom and I used to go garage sale-ing too. This was her house.”

I looked at her and suddenly saw the grief etched into the lines around her face, a thin

film of tears started to cover her eyes. My heart lurched, and I felt fear. Where was MY mom?

“CHRISTIE!!”

“PUPPY!! COME LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!!”

My lips started to smile as I turned to see what treasure sparked the delight in her voice.
 GRADED Evaluation Argument

Ganja, reefer, herb, dope, chronic, green chile, grass, and weed are just a handful of slang

terms for marijuana. Legalized marijuana has had a long and winding journey in the United

States. As of right now, 11 states have fully legalized marijuana. Those states are Alaska,

California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, Colorado, Illinois, Michigan, Vermont, Main, and

Massachusetts. It is also legal in three of the four territories: Guam, the Northern Mariana

Islands, and Washington D.C. On the other side of the coin, there are eight states where it is

entirely illegal; Idaho, Wyoming, South Dakota, Kansas, Wisconsin, Tennessee, Alabama, and

South Carolina. The rest of the states have various laws on decriminalization and medical

marijuana that change rapidly and can be very confusing. New Mexico is one of those states.

This past February, a bill that would have legalized recreational marijuana was voted down 6-4

by the state's Senate Judiciary Committee. Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham will have another

chance next year, and she will have more ammunition. COVID-19 has decimated state coffers all

around the country, not just New Mexico. Furthermore, in the absence of federal assistance,

legalizing marijuana would generate millions in tax dollars. Possibly being the lifesaver this

historically economically challenged state needs.

Medical marijuana became legal in New Mexico in 2007. Currently, the state's medical

program has 28 qualifying conditions that will enable residents to get a medical card allowing

them to possess, use, and grow marijuana. Growers of medical cannabis are currently in a battle

with the state taxation and revenue department (TRD) over gross receipts taxes. The State Court

of Appeals has previously decided that marijuana is in the same category as prescription drugs
and should be exempt from taxes. Understandably the growers would like all the money they

paid refunded, putting the state into a bind. The TRD has asked the high court to reconsider the

case, effectively postponing any possible refund indefinitely. Had the state passed the

legalization bill, Governor Lujan Grisham would have another income stream to help the state

provide supplies and much-needed funding to fight the spread of COVID.

So why would such a lucrative bill be voted down? An opposition group formed by the

Albuquerque Chamber of Commerce, the local Roman Catholic church, and an anti-legalization

group called Smart Approaches to Marijuana persuaded legislators to vote to table it. The latter is

not even based anywhere in New Mexico. They are headquartered in Alexandria, Virginia, and

work with local, state, and federal lawmakers to help pass laws they feel will decrease the use of

marijuana in the United States. The bill would have created a 9% excise tax that would have

funded programs for police training, substance abuse treatment, and education on driving under

the influence. Experts believe that not only would it generate an estimated $54 million in taxes, it

could also create upwards to 11,000 jobs. However, most New Mexicans support legalized

recreational marijuana, and the governor feels optimistic that it will get passed in the next year.

To add another layer of grey onto the already muddled mess of state laws is that

marijuana is still illegal at the federal level. That causes all kinds of problems for cannabis

producers; from what to pay in taxes, to not being able to get bank accounts for their business

needs. In 2013 the Obama administration issued the Cole Memorandum, which said the federal

government would not enforce federal marijuana offenses in states that have legalized

recreational marijuana use by their residents. Jeff Sessions rescinded that in 2018, opening the

door for federal prosecutions of both producers and users of cannabis. There is hope still to be
had for this industry, however. The latest session of congress saw 60 pieces of marijuana-related

legislation introduced. It was a record number, with even more to come.

The writing on the wall is clear. New Mexicans want the state government to legalize

recreational marijuana. Of course, there are always going to be concerns surrounding weed in the

workplace, packaging, so children do not get into it, and impairment issues, to name just a few.

Nevertheless, New Mexicans are creative and will find a way to solutions that will allow

everyone to get a piece of the bud.

 REVISED Evaluation Argument

The movement to legalize weed has had a long journey in New Mexico, but hopefully,

the end is in sight. A vote in the State Judiciary Committee this past January tabled a motion

supported by 75% of New Mexicans to legalize recreational marijuana. Despite the setback,

Governor Lujan Grisham says, "Legalized recreational cannabis in New Mexico is inevitable."

Marijuana and the people who use it have long been stigmatized and looked down on. Stoners

historically have been viewed as "lazy" and "unmotivated." The introduction of medical

marijuana in 2007 has helped to soften attitudes towards marijuana use. The emergence of

COVID 19 illustrates that New Mexico has come to a crossroads. Despite concerns over things

like crime and intoxicated drivers, the residents of New Mexico see legalized recreational

marijuana as an opportunity. Not only to generate badly needed funds statewide but help direct

already strained resources to more pressing issues.

Merriam-Webster defines stoner as "a person who regularly uses drugs especially

illegally" and lists "addict, dopehead, doper, druggie (also druggy), fiend, freak [slang], head,

hophead [slang], hype [slang], junkie (also junky), user" as synonyms. Stoners in popular films

and TV shows are often depicted as burnouts who live in the basement of their parent's house,

unable to string together coherent thoughts, and are always searching for "munchies." That could

not be further from the truth. Several high-profile users of marijuana include Jay-Z, Bill Maher,

Rihanna, Hunter S. Thompson, Bill Gates, and even Abraham Lincoln, to name a few! No one

would accuse them of being lazy, stupid, or undriven. Some weed strains can indeed cause

lethargy, giggles, and paranoia, but not everyone uses them only to "get high."
 There are countless strains out there, and many not just for recreational use. Some have

specially bred properties to help patients with a myriad of medical conditions. Currently, the

state's medical program has 28 qualifying conditions that will enable residents to get a medical

card allowing them to possess, use, and grow marijuana. Many also believe that using cannabis is

a better alternative than using opioids for pain management and sleeping pills for insomnia,

noting that it is impossible to overdose on THC, unlike painkillers, alcohol, or other drugs.

One understandable concern of New Mexican's is the chance of drug-impaired drivers

hurting others or themselves in accidents caused by marijuana intoxication. According to the

website for SaferNM, "In some studies, drivers who smoked marijuana had slower reaction times

and greater lane position variation, compared with drivers in placebo conditions. Other studies

failed to find such differences in reaction time and lane position variation." It seems like

marijuana affects users differently, and even more so when used in conjunction with other drugs

or alcohol. The level of THC in the bloodstream is not an accurate indicator of impairment

either. Sometimes it was observed that "drivers who recently smoked marijuana drove more

slowly and allowed more headway when following other vehicles, compared with drivers in

placebo conditions." More research is needed before a clear correlation between marijuana use

and driving incidents can be proven.

One more pervasive belief is that if marijuana is legalized, it will cause crime rates to

rise. The idea is that if someone is given access to a low-level drug, it will be a gateway to harder

drugs, and thereby leading to riffraff and drug dealers hanging around. The previous has been

spouted by countless politicians and their pundits and has little to no truth in it. A study

performed in Colorado and Washington, where recreational weed has been legalized, found

"recreational use of the drug appeared to have little to no effect on the number of violent and
property crimes." Another study in a 2017 publication of The Economic Journal found that

crime rates in states along the US-Mexico border with legal, medical marijuana programs

showed a 5.6 – 12.5 percent drop in violent crimes.

The recent primary election did see the ouster of several state senators that have opposed

legalization in the past, raising hopes for impending legalization. Furthermore, although there is

significant bipartisan support, there are still some powerful groups that oppose the change; the

local Roman Catholic church is one of them. Some people do not believe in the ingestion of

ANY substances that can alter the mind: caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, or marijuana. All these

groups would benefit from the estimated $54 million in tax revenue generated and the 11,000

jobs created from the passing of such legislation.

Legalization would also allow money currently used for arrests, convictions, and housing

of marijuana users to be put to better use. Schools, public health, and roads (to name a few)

could see increased funding if that money were not used on "the war on drugs." Because of

decreased policing, there would also be a decrease in mass incarceration. Moreover, if there is no

stigma of a drug conviction, finding a job that will support a household is more probable. It is

like a tsunami of goodness, instead of a devastating life-ending storm.

If COVID has taught us anything, we have a long and arduous journey ahead, and that

journey will require money. New Mexico has an untapped revenue stream at its’ fingertips. We

have and a chance to do this right and learn from the 11 states that have legalized weed before

us. There are always going to be people who have issues with the use of marijuana. Nevertheless,

New Mexicans are creative and will find solutions that will allow everyone to get a piece of the

bud.
 Works Cited

McCall, Rosie. “Does Legalizing Pot Increase Crime Rates? It Hasn't in Colorado and
Washington, a Study Has Found” Newsweek n.p., 8 Oct. 2019 Web article

Jaeger, Kyle. “New Mexico Senate Committee Rejects Marijuana Legalization Bill Days Before
Session Ends.” Marijuana Moment, 14 Feb. 2020, www.marijuanamoment.net/new-
mexico-senate-committee-rejects-marijuana-legalization-bill-days-before-session-ends/.

“Stoner.” Merriam-Webster.com Thesaurus, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-

webster.com/thesaurus/stoner. Accessed 27 Jul. 2020.