In her opening line, Joni Ernst’s usage of appeal to Character is obvious: ”I am
Joni Ernst. As a mother, a soldier, and a newly elected senator for the great
state of Iowa, I am proud to speak with you tonight.” Since roughly 50% of the
population is female, she explicitly tries to sympathize with all of the women
in the audience due to the fact that most are, or will become mothers in the future. Even
males—we all love our mothers dearly. I would say most males
hold their mothers in high esteem and profound admiration. The point here is: as
a mother, Sen. Ernst attempts to get a universal appeal.
Few institutions in the U.S. command the respect
that the military so proudly enjoy, especially lately, with US troops
conducting, as we speak, heated campaigns throughout the Middle East against extremist
“prime-timed” pervasively by the media. When
Ernst reveals her identity later in the speech as a Cornel of the National
Guard—which might come as a surprise to many—she instills in the audience a deep
sense of gratitude and indebtedness that most Americans share for their Armed
Forces today, regardless of party affiliation.
In addition, the fact that Ernst presents
herself as an Iowa Senator could imply here a dual meaning in her agenda of
strategies. First of all, being a Senator means not only having attained a
public office of grand stature and admiration, but also one of great power and
influence. Ensconced in her position of authority, she has better chances of
influencing the general public than any mortal middle manager flaunting a $100
suit.
Moreover, the fact the Republican Party chose
someone from Iowa to convey this message carries an underlying significance.
Iowa is usually the first real probe for any politician who wishes to be
president. According to experts, winning the in the Iowa Caucuses is a
clear indication of how that particular candidate will do in relation to others
in the following election. The fact Senator Ernst was born—and represents—the “great”
state Iowa, in a way validates her as proxy for the average American; that same
American who decides who the next president shall be.
Nothing gets Americans more riled up than the
word “terrorism.” It injects into society a barrage of emotions that culminate
in aversion, discomfort, and pronounced belligerence. Sen. Ernst seems to be
aware of this, as she pinpoints the recent Charlie Hebdo attacks in France. By
stating that “…we have been reminded of terrorism’s reach both at home and
abroad;” she wisely appeals to emotions—specifically
fear, which has been used throughout history to effectively manipulate the
masses. Furthermore she cries that the terrorists could care less about the
innocent. Most of us belong to the ranks of
the innocent I would say. So, by default, once again, she is subtly appealing
to everyone.
A concession
is a powerful device for any discourse—or paper—especially in academia, where
refuting someone else’s claims is nothing unusual. By saying it is
important to acknowledge the different perspectives available in “this great
country,” and later by thanking the President for saying it, not only denotes
chivalry on her behalf, but also suggests her own points are so strong, that
admitting the other side’s, will not sway public opinion in any manner.
Sen. Ernst supports her appeal with personal testimonies and anecdotes that
could draw tears from some audience members. Ernst states: “You see, growing up, I only had
one good pair of shoes. So on rainy school days, my mom would slip plastic bags
over them to keep them dry.” By involving mom, the big yellow bus, and the rush to school, she taps into memories all too familiar to a fair portion of citizens.
Then, continuing with emotion and heaps of nostalgia she
states, “But I was never embarrassed, because the school bus would be filled
with rows and rows of young Iowans with bread bags slipped over their feet.” Call it affected speech or a weighting account, you decide.
She concludes her anecdote by saying, “My
parents did not have much, but they worked hard for what they did have.” Here she goes as far as disclosing personal details
uncomfortable to reveal . Ernst,
nevertheless, uses this testimony to
evoke feelings, and to appeal to those who have experienced similar economic situations.
Throughout her appearance that evening, Sen.
Ernst also appeals to need; the need
to change a great number of things, especially those dealing with
money. In one of her lines, she claims that Washington's "dysfunctions" have wounded and discouraged the general public so much, that these errors can be felt on a daily basis at home, and not only apparent in the news. Obviously, she was referring to the economy.
Furthermore, she objects by saying “…our [local]
neighbors agonize over stagnant wages and lost jobs,” and in addition, by
asking,” Will he sign the [Keystone] bill, or will he block good American
jobs?” Here, she urgently demands and appeals to the need for more jobs; jobs
that are hard to find now- a-day according to her.
Another
rhetorical tool present here is the appeal
to values. She implies throughout the speech that everyone in the country is
convinced that Obamacare, for example, is hurting everyone. She also suggests
that every citizen in the US is behind Keystone pipeline because it will
provide jobs and cash for the dismal economy. Furthermore she claims that Americans
need not to be privileged in order to “make a difference.” She tacitly reiterates
that the values of an “ordinary Iowan like [her],” perhaps should be the ones
that represent the whole nation.
Finally, Sen. Ernst definitely turned to her
repertoire of strategies as she sold to the audience her Republican views. More
than likely, those very conservative ones sided with her rhetoric, while
democrats—and perhaps those undecided—might have thought that her cameo was not
of their preference. Despite the outcome, her speech deliberately uses many of
the appeals and support used in modern-day arguments; the same exact ones
discussed and analyzed in class.
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