Hassan Sheikh:732-567-8939, hs657607@ohio.edu
Zhongwen Li: 740-818-9211, zl377708@ohio.edu
Nurenzia Yannuar: 614-598-7080, ny606908@ohio.edu
Shani Salifi: contact through the Islamic Center, 740-594-3890
Steve Hays: 740-597-2105, hays@ohio.edu
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Final article text - International students deviate from new research regarding youth and religion
New data from the Pew Research Center demonstrated that today’s generation of young adult Americans are considerably less involved in organized religion than the generations before them were at their age.
“Nearly one-quarter of people ages 18-29 have described their religion as ‘none.’ By comparison, only about half as many young adults were unaffiliated in the 1970s and 1980s,” the study stated.
International students at Ohio University, many of whose culture was fused with religious traditions, contrasted this statistic about American students.
“International students bring these religious traditions with them so they’re essential to the representation on campus,” Steve Hays, an OU Classics and World Religion professor, said. “If it isn’t endemic, somebody has to bring it in and the international students are the natural vectors.”
One such international student is Zhongwen Li, a graduate student from Taipei, Taiwan studying sociology. Li practices a form of Buddhism combined with Taoism that is common in Taiwan. She credited her continued religious practice to personal experience.
“Originally I was a little bit anti-religion, but when I deeply communicated to Buddha and the more I devoted myself, things changed that I could not control,” Li said. “That’s when I decided that the religion was mine and that I belong to it.”
Li said time spent in prayer does not dictate devotion in Buddhism.
“If you don’t have time to pray because you need to study or to make money that’s all okay,” Li said. “Even my grandmother, a very observant Buddhist, says that. If you have great sincerity and your heart is pure and you are doing good things, trying to contribute to society, then Buddha will understand your good will.”
According to another international student, to identify with a religion does not dictate devotion.
“I don’t really pray five times a day because sometimes you have classes and even at home I never really pray five times a day – more like once or twice,” Nurenzia Yannuar, a Sunni Muslim and graduate Linguistics student from East Java, Indonesia, said. “If you consider yourself a Muslim you are supposed to pray five times a day because it’s one of the fundamental rules of the religion. If you don’t it’s considered a big sin. I’m kind of bad, I always forget.”
Aside from international students, first generation American citizens like Hassan Sheikh also uphold familial religious traditions.
“My mom and dad are both from Pakistan,” Sheikh, a Communications Studies major and Shiite Muslim from Point Pleasant, New Jersey, said.
“I had a really awesome Islamic education when I was growing up,” Sheikh said. “My family started an Islamic Center. One of the camps would take you in the morning to the beach in Jersey so we could pray Fujr [the sunrise prayer] on the beach. It’s the East coast, and you have to pray toward the East, so you would pray toward the ocean.”
According to the Pew study, “The large proportion of young adults who are unaffiliated with a religion is in part a result, in part, of the decision by many young people to leave the religion of their upbringing without becoming involved with a new faith.”
Students attributed their continued practice of their family’s religion to various factors. Sheikh was entertained and bound by relationships with other people who were involved.
“The more I grow up the more I’m forced to look at it from a sociological point of view,” Sheikh said. “I just really have a good time with Muslims. But on a more spiritual note, something the scholars would be more happy about, I feel like every time something’s happened to me, there’s been somebody watching out for me. I kind of felt like I owe it, basically.”
Shani Salifu, a Ph.D. education student from Ghana and leader at the Islamic Center, echoed the importance of companionship in Islamic doctrine.
“A conversation with a wise man beats five years of reading [scripture],” Salifu said.
Yannuar accepted spirituality as a part of her culture, her personal roots.
“My parents had introduced me to their religious lives since I was little and they put me through religious school, so it’s kind of already a part of me,” Yannuar said. “The boundary between religion and culture is not obvious anymore. We just do it because that’s the way people do it in the place where I come from. Some people ask me if I ever question whether it’s true or not, whether God is there or not, and I don’t know I just never question anymore.”
Li’s religious experience at a young age propelled her into a life dedicated to Buddhism.
“Psychologists say that when people encounter problems in life, their religious experience usually helps them," Li said. “In high school I met some difficulties and my religion gave me the mental power to foster and support me to overcome them.”
Two of the three students agreed that the Pew study may be true on a global scale, that their generation was less devout than that of their parents or grandparents.
Li disagreed. She said just because her grandmother spent more time in prayer after she retired, she was not more devout than other Buddhists.
Sheikh attributed his father’s devotion to a driven nature and relationship with Sheikh’s grandfather.
“I know that his dad was harder on him than my dad is on me,” Sheikh said. “When my dad graduated elementary school he graduated tenth in his class and his dad sat him down and was like, ‘What did I do wrong? What more can I do for you? You tell me and I’ll take care of it. That’s my promise to you.’ My dad was valedictorian of his high school class.”
Sheikh believed his father’s drive to rise from poverty translated into devotion to God.
“Maybe I’m more complacent because I was born into relative wealth as opposed to him,” Sheikh said. “When he was studying for his medical degree he was in a room without any windows, a fan that broke, and flies going around. Maybe if I had been born into extreme poverty I would have that same drive.”
The students said devotion translated to everyday life in different ways.
“Someone who practices Islam more strictly wouldn’t be in certain social situations that others would be,” Sheikh said. “That’s primarily where the difference comes from. Like my best friend’s dad and my dad are the real deal. They wouldn’t hang out at a bar, they wouldn’t hang out at a house party where there’s drinking going on. They probably wouldn’t hang out if they felt like one girl wasn’t very well dressed that day. They probably would just bounce and do something else with their lives.
“One issue that’s controversial in Islam is how we deal with music, because there are certain themes in a lot of popular music that are not things that more religious people are going to be okay with. The closer you are to the hard line [of Islamic Law], the less music you’re going to listen to, like my best friend’s dad actually listens to like motivational tapes most of the time when he’s in the car, he doesn’t listen to any music whatsoever. He also doesn’t go to most popular movies.”
Yannuar said the hijab, the scarf of modesty worn by Muslim women, was commonly mistaken as a matter of devotion when in reality it was one of culture. In Middle Eastern countries, it was expected for women to wear the scarf, but elsewhere in the Muslim world it was not. Above all the decision to wear the scarf was one of personal preference, although regional pressures influenced personal choice.
“There are a lot of Muslim women in Athens, but I’ve only met them at the Islamic Center and only during the holidays of Islam,” Yannuar said. “Sometimes it’s difficult because most of them are from Middle Eastern countries and they cover themselves with the veil. I don’t wear a scarf so it’s difficult for me to relate to other Muslim women who are not from my country because we practice it differently. I am Muslim but it doesn’t mean that I can’t practice it differently. I don’t have to wear the same clothes as other Muslims.”
But cultural traditions often clashed so the students chose which rules to follow and which were better left to generations past.
“There’s a lot of line-by-line regulation to being in a religion, obviously, and the question is what that ‘line-by-line’ translates to in a daily life,” Sheikh said. “And whether or not some of that ‘line-by-line’ should be discarded in a world where we’re in a more secular environment. Like in Saudi Arabia [a man and a woman meeting in public] would not happen, probably even Pakistan it would not happen, but definitely around here there are some adjustments to be made.”
Photos to accompany final article
The two international students declined to have their photos taken.

Hassan Sheikh in a follow-up interview at Donkey Coffee
Zhongwen Li's traditional "Blessing Chart" from a Buddhist temple. Similar to the one she wears around her neck, but I was allowed to photograph this one because it does not have a sacred painting on it. Usually given as a gift, this chart is sometimes strung on cell phones as a good luck charm. Inside of the pouch are blessing words

(Above) the front of the chart
(Right)the back of the chart which says "Attract good luck and have better future"
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Article #2 - Outline
Notes that I copied from my notebook, written during the meeting:
At one in the afternoon last Friday members of the Islamic Center met to pray and meditate on ideas from the holy books: the Qur’an and the Sunnah. A man stood at a pew to face the group of men sitting Indian style on the carpet, his voice sent through the speakers mounted in each corner of the room. The echoing sound system created a timeless affect.
“Salaam Helaikum” said some of the men in greeting as they passed into the meeting room in the house on Stewart Street. Others entered silently, focused to begin their solo prayer to Allah. Devotion lived the room with spicy incense and framed prayers on the wall.
“Oh you who believe, believe in Allah,” said the speaker. “Don’t die except in a state of Islam.” Men continued to enter, slipped off their shoes and placed them in the cubbies in the hallway before passing through to the back room, found an open spot, and stood to begin the prayer on their own. The room filled up at a rate of about five men per minute for 50 minutes.
A coat rack toppled from the lopsided weight of winter garments, but only those who placed the dooming articles seemed to notice. The speaker at the pew, though only four yards from the crash, didn’t falter in his recitation.
Some of the men murmured prayers to themselves in Arabic. Prayer is sung the way a tone-deaf music aficionado replays his favorite song to himself throughout the day. Men conversed intermittently in languages that varied to match the colors of their skin and the spines of the translations of the Qur’an on the shelves against one wall. Many different countries and sects are represented at the Islamic Center. Both Shi’a and Sunni Muslims gather, focused on what makes them all the same rather than what makes them different since they’re in the minority at OU.
Some of the men kept their hats on, knit, baseball caps. When asked whether Athens’ Islamic Center is more or less strict than other centers, members insist it isn’t about strictness, but rather personal devotion.
The Center welcomed men and women of all ages, although college-aged men were
Who is welcome at the IC, attends IC meetings(how many, what ethnicity, women meet upstairs)
What is islam (sunni/shi’ite, when founded, where popular)
When are the meetings(open for prayer 24 hours a day, Fridays at one)
Where is the IC building, do most muslims live
Why do they meet, pray (quotes from Hassan)
How do they pray, does the meeting go (face mecca, bow sequence, Arabic chants lead by elder)
At one in the afternoon last Friday members of the Islamic Center met to pray and meditate on ideas from the holy books: the Qur’an and the Sunnah. A man stood at a pew to face the group of men sitting Indian style on the carpet, his voice sent through the speakers mounted in each corner of the room. The echoing sound system created a timeless affect.
“Salaam Helaikum” said some of the men in greeting as they passed into the meeting room in the house on Stewart Street. Others entered silently, focused to begin their solo prayer to Allah. Devotion lived the room with spicy incense and framed prayers on the wall.
“Oh you who believe, believe in Allah,” said the speaker. “Don’t die except in a state of Islam.” Men continued to enter, slipped off their shoes and placed them in the cubbies in the hallway before passing through to the back room, found an open spot, and stood to begin the prayer on their own. The room filled up at a rate of about five men per minute for 50 minutes.
A coat rack toppled from the lopsided weight of winter garments, but only those who placed the dooming articles seemed to notice. The speaker at the pew, though only four yards from the crash, didn’t falter in his recitation.
Some of the men murmured prayers to themselves in Arabic. Prayer is sung the way a tone-deaf music aficionado replays his favorite song to himself throughout the day. Men conversed intermittently in languages that varied to match the colors of their skin and the spines of the translations of the Qur’an on the shelves against one wall. Many different countries and sects are represented at the Islamic Center. Both Shi’a and Sunni Muslims gather, focused on what makes them all the same rather than what makes them different since they’re in the minority at OU.
Some of the men kept their hats on, knit, baseball caps. When asked whether Athens’ Islamic Center is more or less strict than other centers, members insist it isn’t about strictness, but rather personal devotion.
The Center welcomed men and women of all ages, although college-aged men were
Who is welcome at the IC, attends IC meetings(how many, what ethnicity, women meet upstairs)
What is islam (sunni/shi’ite, when founded, where popular)
When are the meetings(open for prayer 24 hours a day, Fridays at one)
Where is the IC building, do most muslims live
Why do they meet, pray (quotes from Hassan)
How do they pray, does the meeting go (face mecca, bow sequence, Arabic chants lead by elder)
Article #2
Athens’ Islamic Center a haven for the closest of friends
Morgan Augur
Shani Salifu entered the house at 13 Stewart Street last Friday, removed his shoes, deposited them in a cubby by the door, and continued forward into the great room. He was one of the first men to arrive to pray.
Before Salifu, a PhD student from Ghana studying education, sat on the carpet to face the east, he bent forward, hands on knees, in barely audible Arabic prayer. He raised himself back to a standing position, then knelt, still murmuring. Finally, he bent forward and pressed his forehead to the carpet for about ten seconds before returning to the kneeling position, then stood. Prayer completed, he took a Qur’an from the stand containing a variety of language translations and sat cross-legged to study the sacred book of Islam.
He relaxed in this safe place with its light blue diagonal lines on the dark blue carpet that guided the men to face Mecca, Islamic laws mounted on the wall, and soft incense. In this room the Islamic Center hosts weekly prayer services, although it remains open 24 hours for members to pray. Islam is the second-largest religion in the world, but the Center is the only one of its kind in Athens.
In the easternmost corner was a tiny stage just large enough for a pew. A microphone stood on the ground in front of the stage. For the visitors’ comfort, four oriental rugs under cushions and pillows lined the walls of the corner to Salifu’s back.
“As-Salamu Alaykum,” said some men, meaning “Peace be upon you”, in greeting as they passed into the room. Others entered silently, focused to begin their solo prayer. Some rinsed their hands in the drinking fountain just outside of the doors; its spring of water signaled the entrance of another.
After ten minutes, a man approached the microphone at the base of the pew with his back to the crowd to lead the group in an Arabic prayer.
Prayer is sung the way you might imagine a monotone music aficionado would repeat his favorite song to himself throughout the day. It echoed through the speakers mounted in each corner of the room to create a timeless effect. Around the world every Muslim prayed the same prayer, in the same language, at the same time as those in the little house on Stewart Street.
To ensure precise timing, there is a clock on the wall that denotes the standard Islamic time along with the hour and minute that each of the five prayers – Fajr just before sunrise, Zuhr at noon, Asr after noon, Maghraib in the evening, and Isha one hour after Maghraib - are to be performed. As the time the sun rises differs every day, so does the time for Fajr.
Seven minutes later a different man climbed the two steps to the pew. He began with a prayer before he settled into a longer talk in English about education, an appropriate topic for a crowd of nearly all undergraduate, graduate, and doctoral students.
“Oh you who believe, believe in Allah,” said the man. “Don’t die except in a state of Islam. Fear your Lord who created you. Give Allah his respect. Speak always the truth.”
He stated there were two kinds of knowledge: secular and Islamic. Secular was the inferior knowledge with no basis in the holy writings but still required. Secular knowledge must be combined with Islamic knowledge or else a student was doomed, the speaker said.
Throughout the teaching, men trickled into the room, performed their solo prayer in silence, then sat and listened obediently to the man at the pew. Some wore designer jeans and polo shirts; others wore tunics and trousers and cuffed them at their feet before they stepped onto the carpet.
The teacher continued to mention three categories of friendship: those of necessity, those for entertainment, and those of a deeper connection. The first two were not true friends, like the acquaintances with computer knowledge or a knack for sports. Only the third is worth confiding in. One must be careful with whom he forges true friendship; only men of virtue, self-control, and justice should be trusted.
“It’s difficult to get to that level, even though I get dangerously close every once in a while,” Hassan Sheikh, a Shiite Muslim and Communication Studies major at OU, said. “You’re going to get to a place where it feels like more of an alliance, the word in Arabic is wali, and it means something just a little bit stronger than alliance. A lot of people describe your wali as someone who has authority over you and you have authority over him. I just don’t know if someone who’s not your same religion would be able to qualify as your wali.”
The speech lasted about 35 minutes and concluded with another prayer. Every man filed in shoulder-to-shoulder, compact rows on the light blue lines of carpet. One man, predetermined by his seniority and depth of knowledge, spoke the prayer aloud for everyone. The crowd murmured “Allah” to punctuate each stanza of the prayer as they bowed in sequence. To conclude the meeting, the speaker wished “As-Salamu Alaykum” to the audience who replied “Wa `Alaykum as-Salaam”, meaning “And upon you be peace”.
Men broke off into conversations that bounced from English to languages as diverse as the crowd itself. The men spoke with a level of familiarity with one another that, if in line with the speaker’s instructions and Sheihk’s description, epitomized the alliance of wali.
Morgan Augur
Shani Salifu entered the house at 13 Stewart Street last Friday, removed his shoes, deposited them in a cubby by the door, and continued forward into the great room. He was one of the first men to arrive to pray.
Before Salifu, a PhD student from Ghana studying education, sat on the carpet to face the east, he bent forward, hands on knees, in barely audible Arabic prayer. He raised himself back to a standing position, then knelt, still murmuring. Finally, he bent forward and pressed his forehead to the carpet for about ten seconds before returning to the kneeling position, then stood. Prayer completed, he took a Qur’an from the stand containing a variety of language translations and sat cross-legged to study the sacred book of Islam.
He relaxed in this safe place with its light blue diagonal lines on the dark blue carpet that guided the men to face Mecca, Islamic laws mounted on the wall, and soft incense. In this room the Islamic Center hosts weekly prayer services, although it remains open 24 hours for members to pray. Islam is the second-largest religion in the world, but the Center is the only one of its kind in Athens.
In the easternmost corner was a tiny stage just large enough for a pew. A microphone stood on the ground in front of the stage. For the visitors’ comfort, four oriental rugs under cushions and pillows lined the walls of the corner to Salifu’s back.
“As-Salamu Alaykum,” said some men, meaning “Peace be upon you”, in greeting as they passed into the room. Others entered silently, focused to begin their solo prayer. Some rinsed their hands in the drinking fountain just outside of the doors; its spring of water signaled the entrance of another.
After ten minutes, a man approached the microphone at the base of the pew with his back to the crowd to lead the group in an Arabic prayer.
Prayer is sung the way you might imagine a monotone music aficionado would repeat his favorite song to himself throughout the day. It echoed through the speakers mounted in each corner of the room to create a timeless effect. Around the world every Muslim prayed the same prayer, in the same language, at the same time as those in the little house on Stewart Street.
To ensure precise timing, there is a clock on the wall that denotes the standard Islamic time along with the hour and minute that each of the five prayers – Fajr just before sunrise, Zuhr at noon, Asr after noon, Maghraib in the evening, and Isha one hour after Maghraib - are to be performed. As the time the sun rises differs every day, so does the time for Fajr.
Seven minutes later a different man climbed the two steps to the pew. He began with a prayer before he settled into a longer talk in English about education, an appropriate topic for a crowd of nearly all undergraduate, graduate, and doctoral students.
“Oh you who believe, believe in Allah,” said the man. “Don’t die except in a state of Islam. Fear your Lord who created you. Give Allah his respect. Speak always the truth.”
He stated there were two kinds of knowledge: secular and Islamic. Secular was the inferior knowledge with no basis in the holy writings but still required. Secular knowledge must be combined with Islamic knowledge or else a student was doomed, the speaker said.
Throughout the teaching, men trickled into the room, performed their solo prayer in silence, then sat and listened obediently to the man at the pew. Some wore designer jeans and polo shirts; others wore tunics and trousers and cuffed them at their feet before they stepped onto the carpet.
The teacher continued to mention three categories of friendship: those of necessity, those for entertainment, and those of a deeper connection. The first two were not true friends, like the acquaintances with computer knowledge or a knack for sports. Only the third is worth confiding in. One must be careful with whom he forges true friendship; only men of virtue, self-control, and justice should be trusted.
“It’s difficult to get to that level, even though I get dangerously close every once in a while,” Hassan Sheikh, a Shiite Muslim and Communication Studies major at OU, said. “You’re going to get to a place where it feels like more of an alliance, the word in Arabic is wali, and it means something just a little bit stronger than alliance. A lot of people describe your wali as someone who has authority over you and you have authority over him. I just don’t know if someone who’s not your same religion would be able to qualify as your wali.”
The speech lasted about 35 minutes and concluded with another prayer. Every man filed in shoulder-to-shoulder, compact rows on the light blue lines of carpet. One man, predetermined by his seniority and depth of knowledge, spoke the prayer aloud for everyone. The crowd murmured “Allah” to punctuate each stanza of the prayer as they bowed in sequence. To conclude the meeting, the speaker wished “As-Salamu Alaykum” to the audience who replied “Wa `Alaykum as-Salaam”, meaning “And upon you be peace”.
Men broke off into conversations that bounced from English to languages as diverse as the crowd itself. The men spoke with a level of familiarity with one another that, if in line with the speaker’s instructions and Sheihk’s description, epitomized the alliance of wali.
Friday, February 12, 2010
My contacts and looking forward to article #2
Here is a list of the contacts that I have and will use for the second article:
-Syed Jamal with the Islamic Center (740)590-7210 or khalidinohio@gmail.com
-Islamic Center of Athens (740)594-3890 13 Stewart St Athens, OH
-Hassan Sheikh, a Shiite Muslim (732)567-8939 hs657607@ohio.edu
-Athens KTC Tibetan Buddhist Meditation Center, Sue and Tom Erlewine (740) 592-3193 tom@erlewinedesign.com
For my second article, I'm going to attend a meeting either at the Islamic Center or the Athens KTC. I have a phone interview with Jamal from the IC this Friday and I'll ask him if I can attend a meeting early next week. If that doesn't work out I'm going to check out the Athens KTC.
I'm motivated to get my interviews and information gathering done next week. That way I have more time to revise and to develop strong language in the article.
My first article felt like a clash of two interviews: one with Steve Hays of the CLWR department and one (via email - bleh!)with Gurbinder Singh. In my next article I'll strive for fluency of ideas and content.
-Syed Jamal with the Islamic Center (740)590-7210 or khalidinohio@gmail.com
-Islamic Center of Athens (740)594-3890 13 Stewart St Athens, OH
-Hassan Sheikh, a Shiite Muslim (732)567-8939 hs657607@ohio.edu
-Athens KTC Tibetan Buddhist Meditation Center, Sue and Tom Erlewine (740) 592-3193 tom@erlewinedesign.com
For my second article, I'm going to attend a meeting either at the Islamic Center or the Athens KTC. I have a phone interview with Jamal from the IC this Friday and I'll ask him if I can attend a meeting early next week. If that doesn't work out I'm going to check out the Athens KTC.
I'm motivated to get my interviews and information gathering done next week. That way I have more time to revise and to develop strong language in the article.
My first article felt like a clash of two interviews: one with Steve Hays of the CLWR department and one (via email - bleh!)with Gurbinder Singh. In my next article I'll strive for fluency of ideas and content.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
My process
Once all of my information is assembled into coherent Word documents and sheets of notebook paper, I sit down with a cup of hot tea and a glass of water. Background music is a must - something instrumental and not too upbeat, like Sigur Ros, to flow while I do.
Before I begin writing anything I survey my interview notes to find a common thread with which to weave a story. Whatever I find will go into the lead, of course.
I open a fresh Word document and type out possible leads that would have been swimming in my mind for a few days. Before settling on one, I look at all of my quotes and choose a strong statement with which to end the article. With those edge pieces in place I focus on the middle, rotating quotes to fit them into the puzzle. My transitions are the mortar to fill gaps in the flow of ideas.
I prefer to have all of my information in electronic form so that I can toggle between drafts and transcribed interviews. Paper is fine, but then spend time moving my eyes from page to page. On the computer screen my eyes can stay in the same place and the information moves.
I have to take some time in between drafts. I spent two hours at Ping between the preliminary and final drafts of this last article, which seemed to be perfect. With a fresh pair of eyes and my AP Stylebook I attack the prose with renewed inquisition. What will the reader feel as they read? Are there questions left unanswered? This was especially important with my last article because Sikhism is not well-known so there was a lot of outside information required.
Editing is a long, tedious practice that has no definite beginning or end. I begin editing as I'm writing my initial lead ideas. Sometimes I'll print my final copy just as I realize a change I'd like to make. I read over what I wrote a zillion times in between.
Whomever I encounter after finishing my final draft - usually at least three people - is forced to proofread. No excuses. Be honest. Be critical. Thank you, but really, give me something I can work with here.
Before I begin writing anything I survey my interview notes to find a common thread with which to weave a story. Whatever I find will go into the lead, of course.
I open a fresh Word document and type out possible leads that would have been swimming in my mind for a few days. Before settling on one, I look at all of my quotes and choose a strong statement with which to end the article. With those edge pieces in place I focus on the middle, rotating quotes to fit them into the puzzle. My transitions are the mortar to fill gaps in the flow of ideas.
I prefer to have all of my information in electronic form so that I can toggle between drafts and transcribed interviews. Paper is fine, but then spend time moving my eyes from page to page. On the computer screen my eyes can stay in the same place and the information moves.
I have to take some time in between drafts. I spent two hours at Ping between the preliminary and final drafts of this last article, which seemed to be perfect. With a fresh pair of eyes and my AP Stylebook I attack the prose with renewed inquisition. What will the reader feel as they read? Are there questions left unanswered? This was especially important with my last article because Sikhism is not well-known so there was a lot of outside information required.
Editing is a long, tedious practice that has no definite beginning or end. I begin editing as I'm writing my initial lead ideas. Sometimes I'll print my final copy just as I realize a change I'd like to make. I read over what I wrote a zillion times in between.
Whomever I encounter after finishing my final draft - usually at least three people - is forced to proofread. No excuses. Be honest. Be critical. Thank you, but really, give me something I can work with here.
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