AP English Language and Composition Unit 2: Rhetorical Situation

Passage 3 (excerpt from an open letter by a city's outgoing public-works director, published in a local paper).

Friends — and even adversaries — I leave this office at the end of the month after eleven years. I want to say one thing before I go. The work we do is invisible. It is invisible when it works, which is most of the time. The water comes on. The street gets plowed. The drain stops flooding. No one writes a thank-you note. And then occasionally — say, one winter morning every three or four years — something fails. A pipe bursts in a neighborhood and the calls flood the office, and the question is always the same: how could we have let this happen? My request to the city, after eleven years of answering that question, is this: be a little quicker to credit the boring days. The people in this office will keep the city running with or without your praise. But we will keep it running longer, and with sharper minds, if you remember that invisibility is the most reliable evidence that the system is working.

Based on Passage 3, why does the writer specifically address 'Friends — and even adversaries'?

Passage 1 (excerpt from a letter to a school board, written by a parent).

To the members of the Glenmoor School Board,

My daughter is in fifth grade at Eastside Elementary. I'm writing not to complain about the new math curriculum — I know other parents have already done that — but to ask the Board to do one small thing the curriculum vote did not require. The textbooks have arrived. The teachers have been trained. What hasn't happened, as far as I can tell, is a clear explanation to families of how the new approach actually differs from the old one. Without that, parents like me are reduced to guessing whether the homework our children bring home is on track or off the rails. I'd like to ask, on behalf of everyone in the same position, that the Board organize one evening session, open to families, with a teacher walking through a typical unit. That's it. No reversal, no debate — just a thirty-minute window to see what our kids are seeing. Thank you for considering it.

Based on Passage 1, how does the writer's strategic CHOICE TO DISTANCE HERSELF from existing complaints affect her credibility with the Board?

Passage 2 (excerpt from a college admissions blog post by an associate dean).

Every fall I get asked the same question, usually three times a day, by anxious juniors and their parents: "What does your committee really look for?" I always pause before answering — not because the answer is a secret, but because the question, framed that way, sets up a misunderstanding. We are not detectives looking for a hidden quality. We are readers, trying to assemble a class of seven hundred students who will help one another grow over four years. So my honest answer is rarely helpful in the way the asker hopes. We look for people whose writing makes us curious to spend an hour with them. We look for evidence that someone has cared deeply about at least one thing. We look — and this is the part most parents don't want to hear — for the small detail in an essay that lets us picture an actual human being, not a polished candidate. Everything else is implementation.

Based on Passage 2, the dean's CONTEXT (writing on the college's admissions blog) affects the rhetorical situation by:

Passage 1 (excerpt from a letter to a school board, written by a parent).

To the members of the Glenmoor School Board,

My daughter is in fifth grade at Eastside Elementary. I'm writing not to complain about the new math curriculum — I know other parents have already done that — but to ask the Board to do one small thing the curriculum vote did not require. The textbooks have arrived. The teachers have been trained. What hasn't happened, as far as I can tell, is a clear explanation to families of how the new approach actually differs from the old one. Without that, parents like me are reduced to guessing whether the homework our children bring home is on track or off the rails. I'd like to ask, on behalf of everyone in the same position, that the Board organize one evening session, open to families, with a teacher walking through a typical unit. That's it. No reversal, no debate — just a thirty-minute window to see what our kids are seeing. Thank you for considering it.

What is the primary PURPOSE of Passage 1?

Passage 1 (excerpt from a letter to a school board, written by a parent).

To the members of the Glenmoor School Board,

My daughter is in fifth grade at Eastside Elementary. I'm writing not to complain about the new math curriculum — I know other parents have already done that — but to ask the Board to do one small thing the curriculum vote did not require. The textbooks have arrived. The teachers have been trained. What hasn't happened, as far as I can tell, is a clear explanation to families of how the new approach actually differs from the old one. Without that, parents like me are reduced to guessing whether the homework our children bring home is on track or off the rails. I'd like to ask, on behalf of everyone in the same position, that the Board organize one evening session, open to families, with a teacher walking through a typical unit. That's it. No reversal, no debate — just a thirty-minute window to see what our kids are seeing. Thank you for considering it.

Which of the following best describes the intended AUDIENCE for Passage 1?

Passage 2 (excerpt from a college admissions blog post by an associate dean).

Every fall I get asked the same question, usually three times a day, by anxious juniors and their parents: "What does your committee really look for?" I always pause before answering — not because the answer is a secret, but because the question, framed that way, sets up a misunderstanding. We are not detectives looking for a hidden quality. We are readers, trying to assemble a class of seven hundred students who will help one another grow over four years. So my honest answer is rarely helpful in the way the asker hopes. We look for people whose writing makes us curious to spend an hour with them. We look for evidence that someone has cared deeply about at least one thing. We look — and this is the part most parents don't want to hear — for the small detail in an essay that lets us picture an actual human being, not a polished candidate. Everything else is implementation.

The PERSONA the dean adopts in Passage 2 is best described as:

Passage 3 (excerpt from an open letter by a city's outgoing public-works director, published in a local paper).

Friends — and even adversaries — I leave this office at the end of the month after eleven years. I want to say one thing before I go. The work we do is invisible. It is invisible when it works, which is most of the time. The water comes on. The street gets plowed. The drain stops flooding. No one writes a thank-you note. And then occasionally — say, one winter morning every three or four years — something fails. A pipe bursts in a neighborhood and the calls flood the office, and the question is always the same: how could we have let this happen? My request to the city, after eleven years of answering that question, is this: be a little quicker to credit the boring days. The people in this office will keep the city running with or without your praise. But we will keep it running longer, and with sharper minds, if you remember that invisibility is the most reliable evidence that the system is working.

The writer's primary PURPOSE in Passage 3 is to:

Passage 3 (excerpt from an open letter by a city's outgoing public-works director, published in a local paper).

Friends — and even adversaries — I leave this office at the end of the month after eleven years. I want to say one thing before I go. The work we do is invisible. It is invisible when it works, which is most of the time. The water comes on. The street gets plowed. The drain stops flooding. No one writes a thank-you note. And then occasionally — say, one winter morning every three or four years — something fails. A pipe bursts in a neighborhood and the calls flood the office, and the question is always the same: how could we have let this happen? My request to the city, after eleven years of answering that question, is this: be a little quicker to credit the boring days. The people in this office will keep the city running with or without your praise. But we will keep it running longer, and with sharper minds, if you remember that invisibility is the most reliable evidence that the system is working.

Based on Passage 3, the writer chooses the example of a burst pipe specifically because:

Passage 1 (excerpt from a letter to a school board, written by a parent).

To the members of the Glenmoor School Board,

My daughter is in fifth grade at Eastside Elementary. I'm writing not to complain about the new math curriculum — I know other parents have already done that — but to ask the Board to do one small thing the curriculum vote did not require. The textbooks have arrived. The teachers have been trained. What hasn't happened, as far as I can tell, is a clear explanation to families of how the new approach actually differs from the old one. Without that, parents like me are reduced to guessing whether the homework our children bring home is on track or off the rails. I'd like to ask, on behalf of everyone in the same position, that the Board organize one evening session, open to families, with a teacher walking through a typical unit. That's it. No reversal, no debate — just a thirty-minute window to see what our kids are seeing. Thank you for considering it.

Based on Passage 1, what EXIGENCE (specific occasion or need) prompted the writer to send this letter?

Passage 2 (excerpt from a college admissions blog post by an associate dean).

Every fall I get asked the same question, usually three times a day, by anxious juniors and their parents: "What does your committee really look for?" I always pause before answering — not because the answer is a secret, but because the question, framed that way, sets up a misunderstanding. We are not detectives looking for a hidden quality. We are readers, trying to assemble a class of seven hundred students who will help one another grow over four years. So my honest answer is rarely helpful in the way the asker hopes. We look for people whose writing makes us curious to spend an hour with them. We look for evidence that someone has cared deeply about at least one thing. We look — and this is the part most parents don't want to hear — for the small detail in an essay that lets us picture an actual human being, not a polished candidate. Everything else is implementation.

Based on Passage 2, which sentence MOST directly signals the dean's awareness of his audience's emotional state?

Passage 1 (excerpt from a letter to a school board, written by a parent).

To the members of the Glenmoor School Board,

My daughter is in fifth grade at Eastside Elementary. I'm writing not to complain about the new math curriculum — I know other parents have already done that — but to ask the Board to do one small thing the curriculum vote did not require. The textbooks have arrived. The teachers have been trained. What hasn't happened, as far as I can tell, is a clear explanation to families of how the new approach actually differs from the old one. Without that, parents like me are reduced to guessing whether the homework our children bring home is on track or off the rails. I'd like to ask, on behalf of everyone in the same position, that the Board organize one evening session, open to families, with a teacher walking through a typical unit. That's it. No reversal, no debate — just a thirty-minute window to see what our kids are seeing. Thank you for considering it.

Passage 2 (excerpt from a college admissions blog post by an associate dean).

Every fall I get asked the same question, usually three times a day, by anxious juniors and their parents: "What does your committee really look for?" I always pause before answering — not because the answer is a secret, but because the question, framed that way, sets up a misunderstanding. We are not detectives looking for a hidden quality. We are readers, trying to assemble a class of seven hundred students who will help one another grow over four years. So my honest answer is rarely helpful in the way the asker hopes. We look for people whose writing makes us curious to spend an hour with them. We look for evidence that someone has cared deeply about at least one thing. We look — and this is the part most parents don't want to hear — for the small detail in an essay that lets us picture an actual human being, not a polished candidate. Everything else is implementation.

Passage 3 (excerpt from an open letter by a city's outgoing public-works director, published in a local paper).

Friends — and even adversaries — I leave this office at the end of the month after eleven years. I want to say one thing before I go. The work we do is invisible. It is invisible when it works, which is most of the time. The water comes on. The street gets plowed. The drain stops flooding. No one writes a thank-you note. And then occasionally — say, one winter morning every three or four years — something fails. A pipe bursts in a neighborhood and the calls flood the office, and the question is always the same: how could we have let this happen? My request to the city, after eleven years of answering that question, is this: be a little quicker to credit the boring days. The people in this office will keep the city running with or without your praise. But we will keep it running longer, and with sharper minds, if you remember that invisibility is the most reliable evidence that the system is working.

Across Passages 1, 2, and 3, which rhetorical element is HANDLED MOST SIMILARLY by all three writers?

Passage 2 (excerpt from a college admissions blog post by an associate dean).

Every fall I get asked the same question, usually three times a day, by anxious juniors and their parents: "What does your committee really look for?" I always pause before answering — not because the answer is a secret, but because the question, framed that way, sets up a misunderstanding. We are not detectives looking for a hidden quality. We are readers, trying to assemble a class of seven hundred students who will help one another grow over four years. So my honest answer is rarely helpful in the way the asker hopes. We look for people whose writing makes us curious to spend an hour with them. We look for evidence that someone has cared deeply about at least one thing. We look — and this is the part most parents don't want to hear — for the small detail in an essay that lets us picture an actual human being, not a polished candidate. Everything else is implementation.

Based on Passage 2, which sentence best captures the dean's CENTRAL message to applicants?