Tag Archives: Nacho Cordova

What Rhetoric Taught Me About Positive Thinking

In all of my life, the two questions I get that will always bring a smile to my face are “what is a Behzod?” and “what the heck is rhetoric?” While the former was one I heard a lot during my youth in Texas, the latter seems to come up more and more often in the context of discussing my education. Currently, I am graduate student in the department of Human Centered Design and Engineering at the University of Washington, a program that is housed in the College of Engineering. As such, I am often asked if I came from a computer science or design program, to which I respond neither, and then state how my undergraduate degree is in rhetoric and media studies. Then the question surfaces.

Although we could debate the definition of “rhetoric,” I often explain rhetoric as “the study of how language imposes order on human experience.” That seems complicated enough, so let’s unpack it a bit. In the definition, there are 4 key parts; language, imposition, order, and human experience. Language (in the case of my education) refers mostly to the selection of words used in a given context. In a more modern view, this could expand to visual language (symbols, imagery, etc) but for our purposes we’ll stick to words. Imposes in the definition above points to the notion that words forcefully constrain or influence our perspective in some way, and together with order, suggests an organizing, a hierarchy, and even perhaps a role or job which is given to words to act as a filter or frame. Human experience is rather straightforward, as it puts our lives as the focus of words, but in doing so highlights the subjectivity and range of interpretation that exists, given how no two individuals experience the same life.

The other way I define rhetoric is to turn to my favorite rhetorical scholar, Kenneth Burke, and cite my favorite passage from his book Language as Symbolic Action (emphasis in the original):

Even if any given terminology is a reflection of reality, by its very nature as a terminology it must be a selection of reality; and to this extent it must function also as a deflection of reality.

What this says (both concisely and eloquently) is that words frame and structure how we live, that language is very much the actor with agency in the scenes of our lives, and that ultimately, our words and conversations are reflections of our perceptions, our philosophies, and our biases. Which brings me to the key point of this post: to think positively, speak positively.

This has a number of manifestations, but I’m going to focus on the biggest one that I encounter, the use of the word “obstacle.” There are dozens of occurrences each day that are often labeled as “interruptions,” “problems,” or “obstacles,” and while these experiences likely divert the flow of attention and work that was previously taking place, when we talk about them using language with negative connotations, we will view them negatively. Instead of doing that, we could call them “opportunities,” a term that invokes a different set of ideas and emotions. By looking at a situation as an opportunity, we can see the chance to strengthen our relationships with others, learn or grow in a new way, stretch our body (or our mind), or perhaps just help someone that needed it. In doing so, we are effectively selecting positive aspects of the diversion and deflecting the negative ones (in terms of Burke’s example).

One of the ways that I try to use this type of positive framing in my classroom is asking students what they think was done well in a given example, and what they think could have been done better? By creating a binary of “things done well” and “things that could have been done better” I’m acknowledging the work that went into the example (I teach a writing class for engineering students) without labeling it as “bad” or “poor.” I do this because I am a firm believer that everything and everyone has something to teach me, and if I start with that as my foundational premise, I will find value in everything I experience. In the classroom, I see this permeate into the students language as the quarter progresses, with the students often beginning critiques of examples with “x was a good start, but I would have liked to see more of y.”

I would encourage you to try this small change in the way you speak, as well as thinking about what other avenues you can try and employ positive language, and then see how it influences the way you experience the world and interact with others. In closing, I need to give thanks to my late mentor Nacho Cordova for always encouraging me to speak specifically and see positively, for without him I would not experience the world in the way that I do today.

My Contribution to Nacho’s Memorial

This past Wednesday, I was honored to be asked by Nacho’s wife to say a few words about him as a photographer and mentor at the service that was held in his honor at Willamette. Alongside many other close friends, colleagues and family members, I shared a few thoughts on the impact that Nacho had on my life. While all of the speakers recognized how our words would not do him justice, we agreed that the stories we shared would bring us smiles and remind us what a powerful presence he was in all of our lives.

In regards to Nacho’s photography, you can find his images on his main website or on his Flickr page. Also, Michelle (his wife) set up a blog where they have been posting news and links about how you can help their family. While this has been a tremendously emotional time for me, especially since Nacho’s passing fell on the two year anniversary of when I lost my best friend Ryan, it has been very powerful to feel so much love and support from my community. While I’ve already written a bit about Nacho’s passing, I wanted to post what I shared at the service, since it reflects a slightly different side of him. You can see them below:

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Of Nacho, With Love


Nacho, as I remember him – always smiling and always playful.

If we define a friend as Emerson does, as “someone before whom we may think aloud,” then by all measures, Nacho was everyone’s friend. He was always present and always willing to listen, no matter if you wanted to talk about technology, social movements, or how unfair it was that rhetoric comprehensive exams cut into your winter break. While time with him may have seemed scarce, the moments I spent in his office felt endless. A conversation would stretch on for what seemed like days, and often take place in only an hour.

Nacho truly could manipulate time.  He was someone that was constantly moving and constantly involved with others, but not in a selfish way. His time was divided between his family, his peers, and his students, and not once in the time that I knew him did I ever feel rushed. If Nacho was selfish, I never knew it.

As a Professor, his job was to help guide and shape those in both the classroom and the community he was a part of, and Nacho took that job very seriously. His classroom was always a place of learning, of the honest interrogation of ideas and truths, even if those ideas were not a part of the day’s plan. Nacho rarely shied away from a topic, and spoke with the same reverence to those who agreed with him and who were challenging him, for to him, all people deserved our kindness and our attention.

Nacho was not only an active member of the rhetoric department, but he was active in the Willamette community at large, serving on a number of boards and committees during his tenure there. His influence was visible in the way that his students and peers interacted, engaging with each other positively, always hoping to see the best in others. While he played these different roles and held various titles, he was always Nacho – always caring, always open, always present.

His passing is something that I have had significant trouble grappling with. My heart goes out to Michelle, Terra and Phoenix, for there is a hole in their lives that no one will be able to fill. I mourn for the Willamette community, for those who knew him and experienced his guidance, as we will never again be greeted with that smile or perspective.

But this moment also has allowed me some happiness, for I rejoice in seeing the kind and beautiful words of those whose lives he touched. I am moved by the classmates I knew, for I see that the kind and compassionate Nacho I experienced was something shared by many. I see that in this moment of tremendous pain, we have come together to honor and give praise for one of the greatest gifts any of us have thus experienced in our lives.

I often told Nacho he was like a father to me, not because he was there to scold me, but because he constantly pushed me to be a better person. He was always a voice of hope and love in my life, encouraging me to live beyond my own experiences and show compassion to others, whoever they were.  He reminded me that although we communicate with each other through words, there are too few words for the human experience, and that life is meant to be experienced, not explained.

Nacho may not be with us as he once was, but he lives on in all of us. A piece of him resides in each of us that knew him, for he touched all of our lives and that imprint will last forever. In this time of loss, those pieces of Nacho are bringing us all together, so that we may remind each other what Nacho taught us, and we may in turn teach others.

Nacho was a father, a husband, a lover, a professor, a friend, and many other things, because Nacho was whoever we needed him to be. If we want to truly honor him, we will look outside of ourselves and ask how we may show others the compassion and love that Nacho has shown all of us.

Being an “Intellectual Child”

An idea is like a parasite. Resilient, highly contagious, and once an idea has taken hold of the brain, it’s almost impossible to eradicate.”

This quote from Leonardo DiCaprio’s character in the movie Inception is something that has rang true with me for most of my life. Ideas often start as seeds, planted somewhere amidst a conversation, and over time, they grow, finally budding. Often we don’t know when those seeds are planted, but later we can identify what it was that sparked the idea.

Each week gives me more reasons to be thankful for my current position at UW’s HCDE program, and this morning presented me with another moment to be truly thankful for. One of the projects I am currently working on within HCDE focuses on online calendaring practices and relationship typologies, specifically examining Google Calendar use. Professor Charlotte Lee oversees the group, and also meets weekly with students who participate in her research to discuss what it meant to be a “scholar.” As one of those students, I couldn’t be more thankful for her time.

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