WELCOME

When I signed up for COMM 1000, I genuinely had no idea what I was walking into. The course description sounded like every generic intro class on earth: “how humans use messages to create meaning across contexts.” Umm, what? It didn’t tell me if we’d be giving speeches, studying TikTok, communicating in teams, or decoding cave drawings. A “survey” of communication sounded like something where I would just skim topics and move on. I thought it would be basic. Light. A required

If we are being honest, my digital world is a full ecosystem. Instagram is my unofficial living room. That is where I laugh, cry, post, lurk, scroll, and mind my business. TikTok is cool, but every time I open it I feel like I am in someone else’s house touching their furniture. And Facebook is strictly for my elders, the people who raised me, and the cousin who still writes statuses like it is 2009. Now let’s talk about how I actually communicate. Because I am absolutely a v

When I imagine my dream workplace, I see a space built with intention. I see my space, my creation, shaped by the kind of clarity I used to only whisper to myself. I’m the boss of my dreams. The headquarters sits in Brooklyn with high glass windows, warm wood, and clean lines. It feels modern but rooted, new but familiar. Inside, there’s a production studio for cultural storytelling and film breakdowns, a writers room for long form projects, and an open creative floor where i

Conflict doesn’t always look like yelling or cursing somebody out. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s in the tone, the silence, the “reply-all.” That’s the kind of conflict I’ve been dealing with at work. And the theme that keeps coming up is what Kislik calls using communication intentionally to navigate power. For me, that looks like documentation as protection. Recently, my supervisor and I had a full conversation where he approved me taking a department vehicle. Time, p