2014 AP English Language and Composition Free-Response Question
Question 2
In 1780, the United States was embroiled in the Revolutionary War. John Quincy Adams was traveling
abroad with his father, the diplomat John Adams (who would himself one day become the United States’ second
president), albeit reluctantly. This reluctance to embrace the experience did not sit well with his mother, Abigail
Adams. In response, Adams penned a letter to her son in which she offered a bit of motherly advice, urging him
to make the most of his natural talents and allow the trip to be a transformational, enriching experience.
Being a mother to a young boy, Abigail Adams was certainly familiar with the persuasive power of a bit
of light scolding, and so she begins her letter by gently admonishing her son. She claims that his reluctance to
travel lacked “proper deliberation,” implying that the younger Adams is not “capable of judging what was most
for [his] own benefit.” Her words are not exactly scathing, but they are direct, and her message leaves little
room for interpretation: in short, she is saying, “Mother knows best." Adams's tone was one that, one must
imagine, her son would have been all too familiar with, and the gentle tongue-lashing is a tried-and-true
attention getter in these types of parent-child interactions.
Once she has appropriately established her credibility as a mother through some light scolding, Adams's
language shifts as she adopts a more encouraging tone. She points out that Adams is equipped with certain
"advantages," reminding him that "Nothing is wanting with you but attention, diligence, and application." She
adds, bluntly, that "Nature has not been deficient." If nature has not failed the younger Adams, and yet he still
does not gain anything from his travels abroad, then the blame lies squarely on himself, on his refusal to apply
his natural talents and advantages. Like any good teacher, Adams inspires her student - in this case, her son - by
telling him he has all the tools to be successful, which must have been an empowering message for John
Quincy. In the same paragraph, she uses figurative language to encourage her son, likening his travels to a river
that “increases its stream the further it flows from its source” and springs, “which, running through rich veins of
minerals, improve their qualities as they pass along.” She sees great potential in her son, and she understands
that, like the river and like the springs, he will only be improved through movement and embarking in new,
unfamiliar experiences.
In the letter's second half, Adams begins to play on her son’s sense of responsibility, both to himself and
his country. She alludes to Cicero as an example of a thinker who had risen to “genius” status despite (or, more
precisely, because of) the struggles he faced in ancient Rome. Linking the younger Adams with someone of the
caliber of Cicero would have served as a gentle nudge, as a reminder to Adams that he has the potential to be
great. She essentially creates an either/or scenario for her son: either you enjoy the “fruit of experience,” or you
will waste your talents through laziness and lack of ambition. Adams does not only appeal to her son's sense of
responsibility to himself; she also appeals to his sense of patriotism and duty to his country. In what must have
been a humbling dose of perspective for the young Adams, she claims that he “owe[s] his existence to those
who have made a glorious defence of their invaded liberties.” Such language must have made the younger
Adams feel ungrateful; while his countrymen were using their talents to start a revolution, he remained reluctant
to expand his own horizons.
This much is clear: John Quincy Adams, for whatever reason, did not want to travel abroad with his
father. What is also clear is that Abigail Adams viewed Adams’ reluctance as a waste of his talents and
opportunities. She understands, though, that a heavy-handed lecture would not do anything to convince her son
to take the journey seriously. This is why a tender, caring tone runs throughout the letter; she signs off by
referring to herself as “your ever affectionate mother.” Her love and support must have been persuasive, as her
son's natural talents and experiences would one day translate into his becoming the sixth president of the United
States.