Today I did a Google search for postcards and rhetoric. The first hit led me to this page, which is a Cafe Press page that features "rhetoric" postcards. I am easily amused by meta-anything, so I was pleasantly surprised. Here's my favorite postcard on offer there: 

There's a similar selection of "rhetoric" postcards on Zazzle, as well. I'm not sure who I would send a "rhetoric" postcard to. The potential audience seems rather limited. I also came across these vintage cards on the Palczewski Postcard Archive that feature rhetorical images and text. 

While I have focused on the rhetorical acts of ordinary people corresponding with each other through Postcrossing, my search today reminded me that, historically, postcards have been used in a more traditional rhetorical context for quite some time. The suffragette postcards on the Palczewski Archive are an example from 1909. 

The fact that postcards have been used for political agendas and are used extensively in advertising is testament to the fact that they are an effective means of communication. If I receive a postcard ad in the mail that has a colorful, eye-catching image I am more likely to at least glance at it than I am likely to open an envelope that contains junk mail. Those go right into the recycling bin, unopened. 

While we are verbal creatures, humans are also highly visual. We like bright colors and pretty things. Going back to the suffragette postcard for a moment, I notice that there is text on the card but what catches my eye is the image. The woman is standing tall and has her hand on her hip. She looks confident. She is smoking a cigarette which, in and of itself, would have been a strong rhetorical statement in 1909.

Here's another one from the series. 

The use of color and the body language of the woman in blue is appealing and modern. She is even showing some ankle! In contrast, the women on the left look oppressed. This postcard does not even need  text in order to convey a strong rhetorical statement. 

We live in a rhetorical world. Acts of rhetoric are not confined to scholars or politicians. Every speech act, every visual image, even body language is inherently rhetorical. We produce "texts" in everything we do. I am particularly fascinated by everyday acts of rhetoric and I think that is one of the primary reasons I am attracted to Postcrossing. 

When I sit down at my desk to write a postcard, what am I doing? How does where I am and the postcard's eventual destination affect the choices I make? Why do I find it easier to write a postcard to another woman than to a man? Communication is power. When we begin to figure out ways that facilitate communication we harness that power and send it out into the world. Location (both figurative and literal) always affects communication. The suffragette postcards exemplify that. They seek to make room in the political arena for women. While place influences composition, composition likewise affects place.Write. Speak. Define your space. Make your place. Make sure that the place you make is inclusive. Send a postcard and watch your place in the world expand!

While the main focus of Postcrossing is, of course, sending and receiving postcards, there is another facet often engaged in by participants. Most of us share our postcards on various platforms across the web. I can upload both sent and received cards to the Postcrossing site. The cards are not categorized in any way. It's just a visual, chronological record. Here's a screenshot of some of recently received postcards.

There is a similar page layout for cards I've sent, cards I have marked as favorites, and sent cards that other people have marked as favorites, my "popular" cards. While the postcard wall, as it's called, is a great feature, the user has no control over the size of the images. Also, it is not possible to categorize, nor can users upload postcards received through the forum onto the official site. So, most people store and display their postcard images on other sites. I use Flikr, as I mentioned in an earlier post. Others use Facebook, Tumblr, Picasa, and Photobucket. There are also quite a few Postcrossing blogs around. Some of these are simply catalogs of postcard images; other users write about their experiences on Postcrossing. 

Some people upload every card they receive. I used to do this, but I eventually decided to only upload specific themes on Flikr. On the Postcrossing site, I upload every card I send and receive through the site.I may go back to documenting all of the cards, but I like my system now. Of course, only uploading certain cards has rhetorical implications. I worry that someone will think I did not like their card and that is the reason I didn't upload it. Sometimes this is the case, but not often. I do keep all of the cards I've received. That may change (by necessity) if I stay with the project due to space constraints. 

I find looking at other people's postcards interesting. I like to examine how they've organized the cards, if they've indicated favorite themes, and so forth. My Flikr indicates my favorites of the cards I've received, but only if I consider just the image. It's impossible to document favorite messages without sharing an image of the message itself and that feels like a breach of privacy to me, so I don't do it. 

Rhetoric is about choices in language. We choose the words and phrases we think will make our position the most clear or the most compelling. While participating in Postcrossing, we have access to both words and images. What we write, what image we choose to send, and what we decide to catalog all send messages that are read and interpreted by others. As is true in any rhetorical situation (ie any communication) what we don't say (or display) also has import. Whether we realize it or not, we are always composing, always employing rhetorical strategies. We are also always being "read." I'd like to think that my compositions are clear and that I am not ever misinterpreted, but that would be naive. 

Because of the limited space on a postcard, I have to choose my words carefully. I have to be succinct and, since I am often writing to people who have English as a second language, I have to be careful with idioms that would be meaningless to my recipient. I think these constraints make me a better writer. At least I hope they do. Composition is a process. It can be refined and improved, perhaps even mastered. Still, meaning can be muddled. The writer alone does not make meaning; rather, meaning is made through a joint process between speaker/writer and hearer/reader. I send a postcard I think the recipient will like. I write words I hope she will enjoy. What happens between my mailbox and the receiver's is out of my control. That's kind of scary, but really wonderful, actually. I love the fact that I can make meaning with a person on the other side of the world via a 4X6 inch bit of paper. 

 Even the humblest material artifact, which is the product and symbol of a particular civilization, is an emissary of the culture out of which it comes. --T.S. Eliot

I hadn't thought much about Postcrossing on youtube. I suppose that's because a video about writing or sending postcards doesn't seem terribly compelling! A quick search today, though, gave me quite a few results. This first one is posted by Ana Campos, Postcrossing's Community Manager and Website Designer. To celebrate its 6th birthday, Postcrossing asked members to send in photos of themselves with six postcards. I "know" some of the people in the pictures through the forum.400 people sent in their photos.The photos capture the diversity of people participating in the project.

The next video is from Postcrossing's 5th birthday and features photos of members mailing their cards.Postcrossing members are very interested in seeing mailboxes from around the world, so this video is very appropriate. it speaks to the desire to connect and to "see" into the life of another. Nedra Reynolds writes that "identities .... are reproduced in the everyday" (549). Images of the everyday help us to make connections with others. Images of celebrities walking their dogs or grocery shopping make them seem more real somehow. Thus, photos of Postcrossing members enacting a mundane activity like posting their cards, add another layer of tangibility. I admit, I got a bit excited when I saw some familiar faces in the video above. 

I really love this one. Anna-Lisa does a good job of explaining the appeal of Postcrossing. 

This one is quite inventive. It uses postcards to create a fairy tale. 

Search results  reveal videos from all over the world. Some explain how Postcrossing works. Many are testimonials from users explaining why they love Postcrossing.  A common theme seems to be a desire to connect with other people and to send a tiny bit of happiness to a stranger. The videos are as diverse as Postcrossing's membership.

Works Cited

Reynolds, Nedra. “Who’s Going to Cross this Border? Travel Metaphors, Material Conditions, and Contested Places.” JAC 20.3 (2000): 541-64. Print.

During my research for this project, I came across some ways postcards are used in classrooms. Alan Block and Sheri Kleinexamine the pedagogical use of postcards in art curricula. They write: “Postcards can bear witness to the forms of change and transformation which offers learners new insights along their journey” and argue that postcards, “as a curricular tool for producing the self by reflection upon the journey, make us aware of our connection to the world and to others” in addition to “providing voice” to the students (24). Block and Klein make reference to location-based rhetoric specifically when they write that sending a postcard marks a person’s location and “offers a unique possibility for recording a curriculum as a journey” (23). These are interesting concepts for contemplation in relation to composition studies. As Block and Klein  point out, the limited space on a postcard forces the student to make choices that may focus thoughts and expression in a way that a traditional essay may not. Block and Klein encourage readers to “[s]end a postcard to say where you are located now and where you might be headed” (24). This is perhaps a useful metaphor for the ways in which students might track their compositional journeys and progress.

Susan Rava ties postcards directly to the improvement of compositional fluency. Her work is primarily with second language learners but its applications may also be of use to native English speakers who lack compositional skills. Early in a semester, Rava assigns a writing task that has “students (who are often freshmen) write to their families describing their roommates.” As the semester progresses, students “begin to build . . .  vocabulary to be used later in longer assignments” (62).  Rava’s ultimate goal is “the development of the writing skill in a format which emphasizes content while reinforcing linguistic accuracy” (64). Rava contends that postcards are useful in teaching writing because they are familiar and “non-threatening” (67). 

I participated in one such project. Third-grade students in Bretagne, France exchange cards with people around the world. My instructions were to send a card that reflected the culture of my country or area and to keep my English simple, as the students are beginners. I sent this card to Léo because it shows a lot of elements of Louisiana folk life and I thought a young boy might be interested in the numerous small images:

Léo sent this card back:

His message was about looking forward to Christmas. He also wrote about things that he likes. The postcard is an excellent pedagogical tool. In one exchange, Léo was able to practice his handwriting, English, and composition; my card to him provided the opportunity to practice reading and comprehension and also told him something about Louisiana, so it provided a lesson in geography and culture. 

I quite enjoyed exchanging cards with Léo and I've signed up for the project again. If I eventually get a teaching job, I will definitely use postcards and/or Postcrossing in the classroom in some way. The writing of postcards is not only an excellent way to promote both literacy and fluency, but the opportunity for cultural exchange is highly valuable. When people can communicate directly with each other, outside the boundaries of national and political rhetoric, real connections can be made that can lead to greater understanding of those outside our own cultural purview. When we write our own messages and read the messages of others,  we broaden our experience of the world, we also make the world a bit smaller by seeing individuals instead of perceiving the world as "OneBigLumpistan," as an internet acquaintance of mine jokingly refers to areas unfamiliar to him. 

Works Cited

Block, Alan A. and Sheri R. Klein. “Where I Am Right Now: Art Education, Curriculum

            and Postcards.” Art Education 49.3 (1996): 20-4. JSTOR. Web. 17 March 2014.

Rava, Susan. “The Postcard Project: A Proposal for Teaching Writing.” The French Review

            72.1 (1998): 58-68. JSTOR. Web. 17 March 2014.

Postcards, though tangible objects, have something in common with internet communication. When we read a postcard, we can't see the sender's face, observe body language, or pick up on other cues we use in face-to-face communication. Postcrossing presents an added challenge: we often don't know the person who sent the card. As might be expected, miscues in communication are bound to happen from time to time. Of course, many people who participate in Postcrossing do not have English as a first language and that adds another potential problem. According to the website's rules, all communication (both on the profiles on the site itself and the written cards) should be done in English. That isn't to say that any two people who have a language in common cannot correspond in that language, but it does mean that someone should not write in Japanese to a person who only speaks English.

I have not received a postcard written in a language I could not understand, but I have received several that show that there was a breakdown in communication on some level.Here are a few examples:

My profile used to say that I like chocolate. What I was expecting was something like this:

I also got this: 

I can't fault the sender for this card. It is chocolate. It just isn't an artfully done photograph, which is the image I had in mind.

I like odd, quirky things. This card aligned with my interpretation of "quirky."

This one is certainly odd, but ...

Again, this sender obviously read my profile and tried to send something I would find amusing. I put these two up together to illustrate a very subtle point. Obviously, showing a good deal of skin isn't the problem. Neither image is "pretty." Why do I think the top one is funny and amusing, yet I am not fond of the second one? The photo quality has something to do with it; the nearly neon red text on the bottom photo says "cheesy" to me and the background is very muddy looking. The top photo also came with an interesting story. The sender, a Canadian living in Singapore, took the photo at a mall in Macau and had it made into a postcard. I've exchanged several cards with this person (though this one was my first card from her) and she and I obviously have a similar interpretation of quirky and a similar aesthetic. 

I also really like elephants. I received this card: 

The card makes me feel sad. This baby elephant looks like he is in a dark, stark enclosure. The lighting is somber and the baby elephant does not look robust or happy. The sender thought a baby elephant would be perfect for me and, obviously, the photo did not cause the same type of reaction in her. 

The person who sent me this card writes: "I always find it very difficult to find the right card. So now I only send cards I like to receive. It's easier for me that way." I suppose that's one way to handle things. At least it's honest!

There is also a problem when constructing a profile. If lists are kept rather generic, there is a greater chance of a miscommunication. If I say I like elephants, I could get a photograph of an elephant, a cartoon elephant, a painting of an elephant, and so forth. If the profile is very specific: "I like elephants, but only photographs taken by professional photographers of elephants in the wild," the profile can be interpreted as being picky. I have tried to find a balance between generic and specific and hope for the best. Surprisingly, I am seldom disappointed.

I post these cards not to say that the senders sent me bad cards, but to show that expectations and interpretations are very subjective. It would be naive of me to think that every postcard I've sent has been loved by every recipient. Every postcard comes with several acts of interpretation. Sometimes those interpretive acts don't quite mesh. Part of the differences in interpretation may be due to language issues, but the "Two Amigos" card was sent to me by someone from the U.S., so that isn't all of it. Issues of taste and preference also come into play. 

What does one write on a postcard to a (virtual) stranger? I write about things that are going on in my life, or I explain the picture on the front of the card. I talk about the weather or mention what foods are in season here. I might mention things associated with my graduate studies, books I am reading, or what happened to me the day I write the card. Pets are also a good topic. If the recipient has asked a question on his or her profile for the sender to answer, I usually comply.

In Rosslyn Possner’s essay, "The Postcard," she writes that postcards “embody the intention of the sender and the pleasure of the receiver,” noting that these bits of paper “reveal fragments of stories that are personal representations of places and people” (219). The postcards above illustrate some of my more common communication styles. The first one is to someone with whom I exchange cards on a monthly basis, through a North America Round Robin. It's kind of chatty and imparts an interesting, if unsubstantial, facet of attitudes toward food in New Orleans. The second card is going to someone who collects bridge postcards. This one is more about facts concerning the card itself (Lake Pontchartrain Causeway). The message is tailored to the recipient's interest in bridges. The third card answers a request on the recipient's profile: "Tell me about something you are most proud of in your life." 

The things I write about are also the kinds of messages I generally receive, so it is pretty safe to say that these kinds of messages are acceptable forms of Postcrossing rhetoric. I imagine some people may get more personal in their messages, but I never do and I have not received any postcards with overtly personal messages.

This week, I received a postcard from a person in Malaysia. We've exchanged quite a few cards over the past year or so. The Malaysia airline crash/disappearance has been on my mind quite a bit, largely because of "knowing" this fellow postcard aficionado. Here's the front of the card: 

The theme of this exchange was "April" and my chosen letter was "R." The card evokes themes associated with April and, of course, rain begins with "R." It's a cute card. When I read the message, though, I was reminded of why I continue with this hobby: I want to connect, on some level, with people in other parts of the world. Here's the message: 

It took my breath away for a moment. It certainly reveals a fragment of a story that is personal and is a representation of a particular place and people. The writer uses rhetorical strategies that reflect both profound sadness and great hope coupled with resiliency. These feelings are not dissimilar from what I and many others felt after Hurricane Katrina. To me, this is what Postcrossing is all bout: finding that no matter where in the world we happen to be, we can find commonality and learn that we are much more similar than we are different. 

Works Cited

Prosser, Rosslyn. “The Postcard: The Fragment.” Life Writing 8.2 (2011): 219-25. Web. 21

            March 2014.

One type of postcard I particularly enjoy is the street view. Unlike a postcard of a skyline or an aerial view of a city, the street view is intimate and personal. I get the sense of what it would be like to walk around in the place depicted on the card. It's interesting to me to see what the everyday spaces of people's lives look like and a shot of a street does that much better than a picture of a famous landmark. In addition to streets, I also like alleys, pictures of stores and restaurants, and public transportation. While the the onion domes of Russia and Ukraine are beautiful (and I have many postcards of that theme which I love), there is something about a more generic street or house that really appeals to me.

Perhaps this is because the card is a synecdoche and, according to Michel de Certeau, synecdoche "expands a spatial element in order to make it play the role of 'more' (a totality) and take its place (the bicycle or the piece of furniture in a store window stands for the whole street or neighborhood;" likewise, it "amplifies detail and miniaturizes the whole" (101). The street view takes a small part of a place and amplifies it, taking the viewer on a miniaturized tour.

Some people find this type of card boring. I have even had people apologize for sending me such a "boring" card even though I make it clear that I really like cards that show everyday scenes. While a postcard of the Eiffel Tower is exciting to receive, I already know what the Eiffel Tower looks like. I do not know what a narrow cobblestone street in a tucked-away corner of the Czech Republic looks like. These are the things that are interesting to me--much more so than an image I can easily bring up with a simple Google search.

Through these swellings, shrinkings, and fragmentations, that is, through these rhetorical operations a spatial phrasing of an analogical (composed of juxtaposed citations) and elliptical (made of gaps, lapses, and allusions) type is created. (de Certeau 101)

Every postcard is a rhetorical operation. A photographer chooses the subject matter, frames the photo, and takes the picture. He or she then perhaps spends some time editing: cropping, correcting light and shadow, changing hue and color saturation. Then, the image is sold and a company that prints postcards chooses to use the image. Sometimes, as in the above image, the location is not disclosed (this one is Cuba), but more often than not, the place is identified. It is sold as a representation of a particular place. A person buys the postcard because they either like the image or agree with the rhetorical representation. Then, they send the postcard to someone they think will like the image.

The card is certainly a shrinking, or a fragmentation. It does not and cannot give an image that encompasses everything about a place. Through the fragment, however, the receiver of the card reads the "spatial phrasing" in order to get a sense of what life is like in a certain place.One house stands for a multitude of houses of its type. The blue truck stands for the whole street. The street stands for Havana. Havana stands for Cuba. A postcard is a series of synecdoches, each fragment expanding and amplifying detail, composing a rhetorical whole.

Works Cited

Certeau, Michel de. "Walking in the City." The Practice of Everyday Life. Trans. Steven Rendall. Berkeley: U of California P, 1984. Amazon Kindle Edition.