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.Lindsie Ohl

ENG 1101

Mrs. Mac

11/2/20

Rhetorical Analysis of “What Makes You Special?”

“What makes you special?” is the question that Mariana Atencio asks in her speech. It’s a

common question that we ask ourselves on a daily basis. Mariana Atencio is a journalist from

Caracas, Venezuela. She explains the meaning of the question above by providing her own

personal experiences and others ideas. Throughout her speech, she uses pathos to make a

connection with the audience. Atencio also uses ethos and logos, structuring her speech. While

using these rhetorical devices, she uses flashbacks and quotes to make her point.

Throughout her speech, she tries to make a connection with the audience through their

feelings. She does this through the rhetorical device pathos. Pathos is used when the author or

speaker uses stories, vivid language or inspirational quotes. Atencio begins the speech telling her

story, giving background information to show connections between her and her audience. This

connection brings the audience in. Atencio does this very well. She uses her story to give

examples and to answer the question in the title of the speech. Her entire speech is based on her

life. She connects stories from her life to answer the question. “Today, I want to tell you why I

decided to do this with my life and what I've learned” (00:00:20). Atencio began her speech with

this phrase. This is where she begins to tell the audience her story. She begins with giving her

background, the typical things you would tell someone when introducing yourself. Atencio

doesn’t use any inspirational quotes from others, but I’m sure the audience could pick out a

phrase she says and have it mean something that gives them inspiration. She also doesn’t use a
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lot of big words to make her speech more sophisticated. She makes it easy to understand and to

make that connection.

Through the connection she makes with the audience, she creates a sense of trust and

credibility. Atencio does this through ethos. This is only a small piece that plays part in ethos.

Three other parts are personal branding, confidence in delivery, and cites credible sources. The

speech isn’t trying to sell or brand anything to the audience, but she is trying to encourage them.

The point of a Ted Talk is to encourage people and hope that the audience learns something,

which is something Atencio does very well. As she does this, she delivers it with confidence. She

doesn’t stutter, hesitate or lose focus on her wording. In fact, she is very clear and settle with her

approach. This is a very important skill to have when doing public speaking. She even throws up

a peace sign at the very end when she thanks the audience and dances/sings a little during the

speech. Atencio also cites a few sources during her speech. “The first step in being more

inclusive is recognizing our blind spots” (00:05:46). This is one example of how she cites a

source. But most importantly, the trust she builds with the audience. The only true way a public

speaker can connect with their audience is by building an area of trust. This can simply be by the

way she speaks to them or how she gives off energy. You want to have positive vibes or energy.

Your speaking, appearance, and facial expression have a huge impact on this. That’s the first

thing the audience notices and Atencio does all of this from the beginning until the end of her

speech.

When someone is trying to tell you something, you may think “well that’s not true” or

“you’ve got that wrong”. People tend to need proof, a reason, or something to back it up. This is

where logos takes a role. Logos is when you use proof or reason to back something up. Atencio

doesn’t just say what makes people special, but provides proof and reason behind it. “The single
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thing every one of us has in common is being human” (00:16:43). This comment really stood out

to me. I think it really proves what the speech is about. She also says “I hope that it teaches you

that nobody has a claim on the word normal” (00:17:23). Atencio proclaims this about our

imperfections. She emphasizes that no human being can be described as normal because we all

have imperfections.

One thing that really stood out was the quotes she used. She used quotes from others,

which can be described as an unique way to talk about her topic. This unique way of translating

her point can be known as diction. Below are some of the quotes she emphasized:

“I am different...Belonging takes work” (00:03:42).

“Being different is an advantage” (00:15:36).

“There are differences that really suck...don’t let them define you” (00:15:36).

“What makes me different has made me stand out and be successful” (00:16:29).

Atencio makes these quotes stand out during her presentation. They add on to the point she is

trying to make that everyone is different. The quotes can also apply to logos because it’s proof

that backs up her thought.

In conclusion, Mariana Atencio uses a variety of devices throughout her speech

including: pathos, ethos, logos, and diction. Each of these devices made her speech unique and

different from all other speeches.

Thank you so much. I am a journalist. My job is to talk to people from all walks of life,

all over the world. Today, I want to tell you why I decided to do this with my life and what

I've learned. My story begins in Caracas, Venezuela, in South America, where I grew

up; a place that to me was, and always will be, filled with magic and wonder. Frоm a

very young age, my parents wanted me to have a wider view of the world. I remember

one time when I was around seven years old, my dad came up to me and said,

"Mariana, I'm going to send you and your little sister..." - who was six at the time - "...to a

place where nobody speaks Spanish. I want you to experience different cultures." He

went on and on about the benefits of spending an entire summer in this summer camp

in the United States, stressing a little phrase that I didn't pay too much attention to at the

time: "You never know what the future holds." Meanwhile, in my seven-year-old mind, I

was thinking, we were going to get to summer camp in Miami. (Laughter) Maybe it was

going to be even better, and we were going to go a little further north, to Orlando, where

Mickey Mouse lived. (Laughter) I got really excited. My dad, however, had a slightly

different plan. Frоm Caracas, he he sent us to Brainerd, Minnesota. (Laughter) Mickey

Mouse was not up there, (Laughter) and with no cell phone, no Snapchat, or Instagram,

I couldn't look up any information. We got there, and one of the first things I noticed was

that the other kids' hair was several shades of blonde, and most of them had blue eyes.

Meanwhile, this is what we looked like. The first night, the camp director gathered

everyone around the campfire and said, "Kids, we have a very international camp this

year; the Atencios are here from Venezuela." (Laughter) The other kids looked at us as

if we were from another planet. They would ask us things like, "Do you know what a

hamburger is?" Or, "Do you go to school on a donkey or a canoe?" (Laughter) I would
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try to answer in my broken English, and they would just laugh. I know they were not

trying to be mean; they were just trying to understand who we were, and make a

correlation with the world they knew. We could either be like them, or like characters out

of a book filled with adventures, like Aladdin or the Jungle Book. We certainly didn't look

like them, we didn't speak their language, we were different. When you're seven years

old, that hurts. But I had my little sister to take care of, and she cried every day at

summer camp. So I decided to put on a brave face, and embrace everything I could

about the American way of life. We later did what we called "the summer camp

experiment," for eight years in different cities that many Americans haven't even heard

of. What I remember most about these moments was when I finally clicked with

someone. Making a friend was a special reward. Everybody wants to feel valued and

accepted, and we think it should happen spontaneously, but it doesn't. When you're

different, you have to work at belonging. You have to be either really helpful, smart,

funny, anything to be cool for the crowd you want to hang out with. Later on, when I was

in high school, my dad expanded on his summer plan, and from Caracas he sent me to

Wallingford, Connecticut, for the senior year of high school. This time, I remember

daydreaming on the plane about "the American high school experience" - with a locker.

It was going to be perfect, just like in my favorite TV show: "Saved by the Bell."

(Laughter) I get there, and they tell me that my assigned roommate is eagerly waiting. I

opened the door, and there she was, sitting on the bed, with a headscarf. Her name was

Fatima, and she was Muslim from Bahrain, and she was not what I expected. She

probably sensed my disappointment when I looked at her because I didn't do too much

to hide it. See, as a teenager, I wanted to fit in even more, I wanted to be popular,
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maybe have a boyfriend for prom, and I felt that Fatima just got in the way with her

shyness and her strict dress code. I didn't realize that I was making her feel like the kids

at summer camp made me feel. This was the high school equivalent of asking her, "Do

you know what a hamburger is?" I was consumed by my own selfishness and unable to

put myself in her shoes. I have to be honest with you, we only lasted a couple of months

together, because she was later sent to live with a counselor instead of other students. I

remember thinking, "Ah, she'll be okay. She's just different." You see, when we label

someone as different, it dehumanizes them in a way. They become "the other." They're

not worthy of our time, not our problem, and in fact, they, "the other," are probably the

cause of our problems. So, how do we recognize our blind spots? It begins by

understanding what makes you different, by embracing those traits. Only then can you

begin to appreciate what makes others special. I remember when this hit me. It was a

couple months after that. I had found that boyfriend for prom, made a group of friends,

and practically forgotten about Fatima, until everybody signed on to participate in this

talent show for charity. You needed to offer a talent for auction. It seemed like

everybody had something special to offer. Some kids were going to play the violin,

others were going to recite a theater monologue, and I remember thinking, "We don't

practice talents like these back home." But I was determined to find something of value.

The day of the talent show comes, and I get up on stage with my little boom box, and

put it on the side and press "Play," and a song by my favorite emerging artist, Shakira,

comes up. And I go, "Whenever, wherever, we're meant to be together," and I said, "My

name is Mariana, and I'm going to auction a dance class." It seemed like the whole

school raised their hand to bid. My dance class really stood out from, like, the 10th violin
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class offered that day. Going back to my dorm room, I didn't feel different. I felt really

special. That's when I started thinking about Fatima, a person that I had failed to see as

special, when I first met her. She was from the Middle East, just like Shakira's family

was from the Middle East. She could have probably taught me a thing or two about belly

dancing, had I been open to it. Now, I want you all to take that sticker that was given to

you at the beginning of our session today, where you wrote down what makes you

special, and I want you to look at it. If you're watching at home, take a piece of paper,

and write down what makes you different. You may feel guarded when you look at it,

maybe even a little ashamed, maybe even proud. But you need to begin to embrace it.

Remember, it is the first step in appreciating what makes others special. When I went

back home to Venezuela, I began to understand how these experiences were changing

me. Being able to speak different languages, to navigate all these different people and

places, it gave me a unique sensibility. I was finally beginning to understand the

importance of putting myself in other people's shoes. That is a big part of the reason

why I decided to become a journalist. Especially being from a part of the world that is

often labeled "the backyard," "the illegal aliens," "third-world," "the others," I wanted to

do something to change that. It was right around the time, however, when the

Venezuelan government shut down the biggest television station in our country.

Censorship was growing, and my dad came up to me once again and said, "How are

you going to be a journalist here? You have to leave." That's when it hit me. That's what

he had been preparing me for. That is what the future held for me. So in 2008, I packed

my bags, and I came to the United States, without a return ticket this time. I was

painfully aware that, at 24 years old, I was becoming a refugee of sorts, an immigrant,
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the other, once again, and now for good. I was able to come on a scholarship to study

journalism. I remember when they gave me my first assignment to cover the historic

election of President Barack Obama. I felt so lucky, so hopeful. I was, like, "Yes, this is

it. I've come to post-racial America, where the notion of us and them is being eroded,

and will probably be eradicated in my lifetime." Boy, was I wrong, right? Why didn't

Barack Obama's presidency alleviate racial tensions in our country? Why do some

people still feel threatened by immigrants, LGBTQ, and minority groups who are just

trying to find a space in this United States that should be for all of us? I didn't have the

answers back then, but on November 8th, 2016, when Donald Trump became our

president, it became clear that a large part of the electorate sees them as "the others."

Some see people coming to take their jobs, or potential terrorists who speak a different

language. Meanwhile, minority groups oftentimes just see hatred, intolerance, and

narrow-mindedness on the other side. It's like we're stuck in these bubbles that nobody

wants to burst. The only way to do it, the only way to get out of it is to realize that being

different also means thinking differently. It takes courage to show respect. In the words

of Voltaire: "I may not agree with what you have to say, but I will fight to the death to

defend your right to say it." Failing to see anything good on the other side makes a

dialogue impossible. Without a dialogue, we will keep repeating the same mistakes,

because we will not learn anything new. I covered the 2016 election for NBC News. It

was my first big assignment in this mainstream network, where I had crossed over from

Spanish television. And I wanted to do something different. I watched election results

with undocumented families. Few thought of sharing that moment with people who

weren't citizens, but actually stood the most to lose that night. When it became apparent
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that Donald Trump was winning, this eight-year-old girl named Angelina rushed up to

me in tears. She sobbed, and she asked me if her mom was going to be deported now. I

hugged her back and I said, "It's going to be okay," but I really didn't know. This was the

photo we took that night, forever ingrained in my heart. Here was this little girl who was

around the same age I was when I went to camp in Brainerd. She already knows she is

"the other." She walks home from school in fear, every day, that her mom can be taken

away. So, how do we put ourselves in Angelina's shoes? How do we make her

understand she is special, and not simply unworthy of having her family together? By

giving camera time to her and families like hers, I tried to make people see them as

human beings, and not simply "illegal aliens." Yes, they broke a law, and they should

pay a penalty for it, but they've also given everything for this country, like many other

immigrants before them have. I've already told you how my path to personal growth

started. To end, I want to tell you how I hit the worst bump in the road yet, one that

shook me to my very core. The day, April 10th, 2014, I was driving to the studio, and I

got a call from my parents. "Are you on the air?" they asked. I immediately knew

something was wrong. "What happened?" I said. "It's your sister; she's been in a car

accident." It was as if my heart stopped. My hands gripped the steering wheel, and I

remember hearing the words: "It is unlikely she will ever walk again." They say your life

can change in a split second. Mine did at that moment. My sister went from being my

successful other half, only a year apart in age, to not being able to move her legs, sit up,

or get dressed by herself. This wasn't like summer camp, where I could magically make

it better. This was terrifying. Throughout the course of two years, my sister underwent

15 surgeries, and she spent the most of that time in a wheelchair. But that wasn't even
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the worst of it. The worst was something so painful, it's hard to put into words, even

now. It was the way people looked at her, looked at us, changed. People were unable to

see a successful lawyer or a millennial with a sharp wit and a kind heart. Everywhere

we went, I realized that people just saw a poor girl in a wheelchair. They were unable to

see anything beyond that. After fighting like a warrior, I can thankfully tell you that today

my sister is walking, and has recovered beyond anyone's expectations. (Applause)

Thank you. But during that traumatic ordeal, I learned there are differences that simply

suck, and it's hard to find positive in them. My sister's not better off because of what

happened. But she taught me: you can't let those differences define you. Being able to

reimagine yourself beyond what other people see, that is the toughest task of all, but it's

also the most beautiful. You see, we all come to this world in a body. People with

physical or neurological difficulties, environmentally impacted communities, immigrants,

boys, girls, boys who want to dress as girls, girls with veils, women who have been

sexually assaulted, athletes who bend their knee as a sign of protest, black, white,

Asian, Native American, my sister, you, or me. We all want what everyone wants: to

dream and to achieve. But sometimes, society tells us, and we tell ourselves, we don't

fit the mold. Well, if you look at my story, from being born somewhere different, to belly

dancing in high school, to telling stories you wouldn't normally see on TV, what makes

me different is what has made me stand out and be successful. I have traveled the

world, and talked to people from all walks of life. You know what I've learned? The

single thing every one of us has in common is being human. So take a stand to defend

your race, the human race. Let's appeal to it. Let's be humanists, before and after

everything else. To end, I want you to take that sticker, that piece of paper where you
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wrote down what makes you different, and I want you to celebrate it today and every

day, shout it from the rooftops. I also encourage you to be curious and ask, "What is on

other people's pieces of paper?" "What makes them different?" Let's celebrate those

imperfections that make us special. I hope that it teaches you that nobody has a claim

on the word "normal." We are all different. We are all quirky, and unique, and that is

what makes us wonderfully human. Thank you so much. (Applause)

Works Cited

Atencio, M. (n.d.). What makes you special? Ted Talks, 6 Nov. 2020,

https://www.ted.com/talks/mariana_atencio_what_makes_you_special/transcript