Monday, May 5, 2008

I Am Compstar

Berlin "Contemporary Composition"

My love for Berlin knows no bounds. I find his labeling of composition theories to be helpful and insightful. Most importantly, though, I feel as if he is able to put into language the meaning I am constantly striving to make. At times as I read this article I almost felt as if I were reading a version of what I have said to myself over and over again: "I...strongly disagree with the contention that the differences in approaches to teaching writing can be explained by attending to the degree of emphasis given to universally defined elements of a universally defined composing process" (765). This comment is clarified later when he states: "Pedagogical theories in writing courses are grounded in rhetorical theories, and rhetorical theories do not differ in the simple undue emphasis of writer or audience or reality or language or some combination of these" (765). Everyone is engaged in the process of teaching writing, and I feel, as I think Berlin does, that often we draw lines in the sand unnecessarily instead of examining what underling beliefs are the same and what is producing results and why.

I could go on quoting this article at length, but I will skip to the end in the interest of time. I am, as Berlin would label me, a New Rhetoric follower. I studied at the school of Berthoff and it was incredibly exciting to see him using language to state what I believe to be one of the best ways to teach writing at the end of his article. He says, "Language is at the center of this dialectical interplay between the individual and the world. For Neo-Aristotelians, Positivists, and Neo-Platonists, truth exists prior to language so that the difficulty of the writer or speaker is to find the appropriate words to communicate knowledge. For the New Rhetoric truth is impossible without language since it is language that embodies and generates truth" (774). As teachers of writing we aren't teaching a scientific formula or even how to use such a formula--we're teaching how to create one and making meaning with it. That is, I think, a large difference.

Fulkerson "Composition at the Turn of the Twenty-First Century"

Sigh. Here is my beef with Rhetorical approaches (I finally have the language for it I think): rhetorical theories don't teach meaning-making. They address what to do with the language once you have it, but not how to create it. I also feel that Fulkerson works really hard to convince the reader that everyone he like uses the rhetorical approach, even when he admits that they might fit somewhere else. We are back to the good old either/or problem. I think pedagogies that succeed have more in common than can be labeled with the characteristic Fulkerson puts forth. I also feel that he misunderstands CCS to some degree; in fact, I feel that most people who disagree with the approach misunderstand it--at least its goals and strategies. Finally, I am against modeling. I do think reading and writing are connected and that we often write similar to what we read, but I think modeling is what you do when you don't know what/how to teach. Is that to argumentative?

Fulkerson had some interesting things to say and I appreciated his survey of the composition theories, but I felt that Berlin did a better job of putting forth categories. I also think Berlin named the problems of the "theory wars" in a superior fashion.

And, if I may digress for just a second? I might scream at the next person that accuses writing teachers who teach students to critique themselves and their world of being "leftist ideologues" who "brainwash" students. No doubt there are some extremists out there (as there are in any pedagogy) but forcing you to question does not brainwash you, it simply unsettles you. And I will not be sorry if you realize that being a racist misogynist is a bad idea. I won't grade you for being an asshole, but I refuse to apologize for teaching in such a way that you have the best chance possible of realizing your asshole tendencies and changing them. Are we, as composition teachers, really going to quibble over whether it is okay to say racism is wrong in the classroom? Really? I'm gonna have to take a stand on that one and say that racism is a non-defensible position; that doesn't make me a brainwasher, it just means I don't allow obscene stupidity in my classroom.

Downs and Wardle "Teaching About Writing, Righting Misconceptions"

I like this article. I say I like it as a demonstration of my view that we should include the personal with the academic (since I don't think you can ever really remove it) and because it seems to fit with what Downs and Wardle are discussing. Now I will explain why I like it, you see.

I feel they name the biggest problem of FYC very well. The issue of "academic writing" as being a dead, created term that actually carries no meaning. This is why we can't agree on how to teach it, and why so many FYC classes fail to carry across the curriculum. They state, "a number of assumptions inform the premise that academic writing is somehow universal: writing can be considered independent of content; writing consists primarily of syntactic and mechanical concerns..." (555). But of course, correct? All we need to do is teach to the rhetorical moves made in "academic writing" and the students will be set! But wait, there's more: "even when FYC courses do attempt to directly address the complexity of 'academic discourse,' they tend to operate on the assumption that writing instruction easily transfers to other writing situations--a deeply ingrained assumption with little empirical verification" (556). An assumption without critically thinking about it? Surely writing teachers would not make the error for which they judge their students. I don't believe it.

But I think that is exactly what many writing teachers do, and I think this article nails that point. We assume that "academic discourse" is achievable because it is what we were taught. It is what we do. So to speak. But even as we do whatever it is we do, how many of us actually know how we are doing it? Can you put it into words? Or do you find yourself struggling with content, style, and ideas? I find that in my own writing I have reached an impasse--I am no longer able to write in way that conveys the complexity of my ideas. Huh. Maybe academic discourse doesn't quite cover everything.

Breuch "Post-Process 'Pedagogy'"

This article reminds me of Knoblauch and Brannon's plea to the reader to understand that every teacher should understand "why they do what they do." This seems very similar to Breuch's statement that "post-process theory encourages us to reexamine our definition of writing as an activity rather than a body of knowledge, our methods of teaching as indeterminate activities rather than exercises of mastery, and our communicative interactions with students as dialogic rather than monologic" (98-99). I also think that her effort to understand post-process theory is one that should be taken by theorists about most theories.

That may sound odd coming from me as I am often argumentative and sometimes negative about what we have read. I hope, however, that I am not misunderstood for not attempting to understand that theory itself. Often my objections come from what I perceive to be the theories lack of understanding itself and the writing process itself. To that end I jump to the conclusion of her essay and would like to say that her remarks about "letting go" are also incredibly useful to any pedagogical approach. As she says, "it means becoming teachers who are more in tune to the pedagogical needs of students, more willing to discuss ideas, more willing to listen, more willing to be moved by moments of mutual understanding" (122). I think such a strategy can apply not only to post-process theory but also may illustrate how post-process theory can be used in conjunction with other theories or vice versa. It isn't about either/or, but entirely both/and.

This concludes my final response and in a moment having nothing to do with composition theory or this class I urge you all go see Ironman. Perhaps some day I will write a comic book about a superhero named "Compstar"--the hero of all composition theorists.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Website Reflection

The creation of this website was a reasonably stress free event. I used Microsoft Publisher, feeling most comfortable with Microsoft programs. I worked with code in the past, not html or java, but it has been so long I knew it would be of little use to me. I am not, despite my protestations, anti-technology; I spend quite a bit of time in my teaching educating my students about the classroom and have had a class website in the past. I understand the appeal of a website for professional and teaching reasons, but from my own experience as a student I rarely use a faculty website for anything beyond assuaging my boredom and surface level curiosity.

This has been helpful, however, as I hope to someday have a tenure track position and I know from my own school research that faculty webpages are helpful in discovering who I want to work with and why. I hope to someday put this knowledge to good use, but frankly, this semester has whooped me and it’s all I can do to write a basic sentence.

As the internet continues to grow I’ve become more aware of my lagging behind the learning curve—my next goal is to familiarize myself with the uses available to me in teaching through computers, the internet, and all manner of fun technology.

Spittin' Mad

Smith "Students' Goals, Gatekeeping, and Some Questions of Ethics"

I'm half-way through this article and I have to take a break. I'm so angry I'm not sure I can finish it. Is this guy for real? Could he be more condescending? I especially love the way he attacks Griffin for her feminism. That's my favorite part. What was that we discussed early on about composition theorists not attacking each other? I'll show you attack if the rest of this article doesn't shape up really, friggin' fast.

Nope. Still hate him.

I don't want to engage this article. I don't want to talk about what I think. I sure as hell don't want to summarize it. But this is a graduate class and I "willingly" entered into the system so I will present my ticket to the gate and we'll see if I can pass through.

Smith has several good points; it is important that we remember the purpose of writing composition and gear our curriculum and classes towards fulfilling that purpose. If you aren't engaging in activities that promote/teach better writing than you can't very well call yourself a writing teacher. He raises excellent objectifications to the blind acceptance of many composition theories and points out the ethical obligation to students. He also calls teachers to task for their forgetfulness of where they work and interact. All of these things are insightful and, one could argue, justifiably required. All composition theory should be self-examining and open to criticism and it is as necessary to keep dialogue open as it is to initiate it in the first place.

However, I still think Smith is an ass. Students are not my clients and I will not think of them that way. I will teach them what they need to know of basic writing skills that are necessary for further education; I will grade them to the standard they will be held to in the future. I completely understand that English 101/102 is not a large part of their life nor do I expect to be held in some vaulted peace, love, and happiness place in their hearts for all eternity. But the question remains how best to teach writing. And my answer to that remains to teach thinking/speaking/reading/writing all together. You cannot do this if you think of your subject as a skill because writing (and I will argue this to the grave) IS NOT LIKE OTHER SUBJECTS. There. I said it. Call me feminist, call me naive, call me egotistical. But be prepared to have a discussion.

Hariston "Diversity, Ideology, and Teaching Writing"

AAAHHHH!!!!!

Can that be my response?

"I'm convinced that the push to change freshman composition into a political platform for the teacher has come about primarily because the course is housed in English departments" (702). And she follows that up with, "But I think this is what happens when composition theorists remain psychologically tied to the English departments that are their base. Partly out of genuine interest, I'm sure, but also out of a need to belong to and be approved by the power structure, they immerse themselves in currently fashionable critical theories, read the authors that are chic--Foucault, Bahktin, Giroux, Eagleton, and Cixous, for example--then look for ways those theories can be incorporated into their own specialty, teaching writing" (703).

Let's examine her "key elements": "student's own writing must be the center of the course" (705). Okay, I agree with you there, though, I would still argue there is value to bringing in outside text (not silly essays about college drinking) to expand thought. "Second, as writing teachers we should stay within our area of professional expertise: helping students to learn to write in order to learn, to explore, to communicate, to gain control over their lives" (705). Oh fantastic. Because none of those "chic" theorists help with this goal at all. I'm so glad you clarified that.

I'm being unconventional. I am, perhaps, not engaging the text properly. View my unorthodox response as a response in itself.

Berlin

A soothing balm to my fiery nerves. I'm Scotch-Irish, can blame this response on genetic disposition to anger?

Berlin makes the points I am too tired and angry to bring up. The problem isn't the ideology of teachers--you can't get outside of your ideology which is what Smith and Hariston don't seem able to admit--but an awareness of that ideology and a use of it to further writing instruction. Not touchy-feely oh I feel good about myself crap, but a demand of yourself as a teacher that you don't pretend you have no ideological goal. It also demands that you don't judge your students; something I would argue is impossible unless you are self-aware enough to recognize you have an ideology and ideological goals.

It isn't the fault of "English departments." It's the fault of our failure as teachers. And yes, I'm a social-epistemic.

Wow. I'm not even capable of a neutral response to these readings. But I admit it. See? That's social-epistemic at work baby.

A Normal Response

I don't know if life coincidentally matches up with schoolwork, or if I simply read life into my schoolwork. Perhaps part of both.

Shor, "Monday Morning Fever"

I find myself remembering our 791 discussion about Freire; Dr. Brown asked us what value he carries for the U.S. since he was theorizing for an entirely different situation. I won't explain my argument for the value I believe he carries, but at the end of the discussion my point was simply this: it doesn't matter that the problems we pose are different in our classrooms, it only matters that we are posing problems. Shor writes, "Most students possess more language skills than they will display in school. The turn towards student reality and student voices can release their hidden talents" (107). By posing a problem that is somehow applicable to them (or made applicable to them) we open the doorway for their rhetoric to flow through and give them voice. This seems what everyone is after. If this is done successfully then suddenly writing makes sense in a way it never did before. Shor tells us, "Most of my students have never looked this closely at their jobs, their writings, each other, or the teacher. The careful attention to detail is what their English teachers have lectured to them under the rubrics of "paragraph development" and "theme organization" (113). My favorite part, though, is what immediately follows: "Studied as a rhetorical lesson instead of as a lesson in critically reperceiving reality, 'paragraph development' has of course not developed inside my students" (114). By discussing the "tools" of writing and rhetoric as something to be harnessed instead of providing an inquiry for them to develop and sharpen what they already have reifies language and shuts down discourse. I think Shor has touched on this and that is a lesson that is applicable to all composition classrooms no matter the politics or the nationality.

Freire

Oh Freire. How is one not motivated by Freire? Even now, so worried I can't sleep and so tired I keep worrying, I find myself perking up a little bit when reading Freire. How is he not applicable to our school systems, our pedagogies? My classes are working on their research papers right now. I finished the drafts last night and was angry. Angry! I haven't been that angry in...I don't know how long. I was angry not just because they were bad--no focus, poorly framed sentences, etc--those mistakes I could have understood. Those mistakes show me a writer grappling with language. No, these drafts were full of typos, citations errors (which we had covered ad naseum in class) and sentences like "There may or may not be a solution." "This is a complicated problem with no simple answer." "When pregnant the woman will give birth after some time." These are sentences that don't say anything. My students, faced with a research paper, had reverted back to their old "academic sounding" selves and were filling page after page with "facts" and worthless meaningless commentary. All our discussions about making meaning, discussing their own thoughts had flown out the window when faced with an eight page research paper.

I wish I could have read the first line of this article to them: "Experience teaches us not to assume that the obvious is clearly understood" (616). Or perhaps, if I could find the great cause of our education's treatment of language I could say, "Only someone with a mechanistic mentality, which Marx would call 'grossly materialistic,' could reduce adult literacy learning to a purely technical action" (617). At the very least I could help them to understand that "To acquire literacy is more than to psychologically and mechanically dominate reading and writing techniques. It is to dominate these techniques in terms of consciousness; to understand what one reads and to write what one understands; it is to communicate graphically" (622). These are the ideas they are unaware of in relationship to themselves, their language making capabilities, and their general approach towards life.

We talked about it. I brought in passages of meaning made by Ayn Rand and Robert Heinlein, but I wish I would have remembered my Freire. I read this article a couple of years ago, but I now realize he is one of those that might be worth re-reading every year before the school year.

Monday, April 21, 2008

History of Literacy Volume I

"Stranger in Strange Lands"

"In each new class Dave believed that the writing he was doing was totally unlike anything he had ever done before" (234). That seems to sum it up for me. We have discussed writing across the curriculum to some degree in class and I find this article supporting what I figured to be true. Students don't understand writing as language, but only as a skill applied for particular instances. "Although the writing tasks in the three classes were in many ways similar, Dave interpreted them as being totally different from each other and totally different from anything he had ever done before" (243). She mentions this particular trait of Dave's a third time as well later on. I suppose my point in discussing this aspect of the article is the astounding surprise this finding seems to carry. Writing teachers are consistently flabbergasted by how students a) can't write a paper and b) can't write a paper outside of class. This is because, I would argue, we still hold tight to our imbedded beliefs about writing, beliefs many of us aren't even aware we carry. We teach English because it came easy and we've never stopped to think why writing might be difficult for someone else. Furthermore, we are consistently looking for the mathematical breakdown of how to teach writing better. "Fifty-four percent of his expressed concerns were for coherence of thesis and subpoints...Forty-four percent of his concerns focused on accurately interpreting...Seventy-two percent of Dave's concerns deal with the new rules of use..." (245). Wow. His concerns by percentage breakdown. That's really helpful.

This article is useful in recognizing why writing across the curriculum needs to be addressed and realizing what's going on outside of freshman composition, but what do you want me to do with the percentage breakdown? Really?

"Protean Shapes in Literacy Events"

Moral of this story: No Child Left Behind is a Bad Idea.

I kinda just want to leave my response at that. But, since I can't, here's my favorite quote: "in large complex societies such as the United States, the national state of technological development and the extent of intrusion of governmental agencies in the daily lives of citizens may have combined to set up conditions in which literacy no longer has many of the traditional uses associated with it" (465). The government messes with people. People don't live up to impossible standards. The government/media makes a big deal about how much we are all failing as a people, we do our best to fix our problems, education suffers. Furthermore, I sense a lot of Bakhtin in here, specifically the bit about interanimation of discourses--students move from discourse to discourse and their comfort with one does preclude the loss of literacy in another. Furthermore, literacy is not simply a skill like crocheting that we can just teach in a session and move on. That seems to be the gist of most of what's being said here. I do believe we're back to the writing as art vs. science debate.

"Hearing Other Voices"

I cannot help but hear the voice (text) of Foucault as I read Hull's article. I am thinking specifically of History of Sexuality and the way he traces the economic responsibility of citizens and their sexuality. As Hull discusses the "responsibility" of workers in terms of literacy it appears to me to be much of the same discussion. Workers are ill-prepared and thus cost the economy money. Your illiteracy is a failure not only in education, but also as a citizen. It is because of you this economy is failing. It is because of you we can't do anything right.

The scariest thing is that I see much of this rhetoric repeated by my students. It is each individual's responsibility to be a good citizen. If you fail you have no one to blame but yourself. If your particular skill set is not what is required by your employer then it is no one's fault but your own. Oh the sweet American Dream. "The popular discourse of workplace literacy sets up a we/they dichotomy. It stresses the apparent failures of large numbers of people--disproportionately the poor and people of color--to be competent at what are considered run-of-the-mill daily tasks. Exaggerated an influenced by race and class prejudice, this dichotomy has the effect of separating the literate readers of magazines, newspaper articles, and scholarly reports on the literacy crisis from the masses who, we unthinkingly assume, are barely getting through the day" (669). It's not my fault it is someone else's. If you can't participate in society the way society demands you are a failure and not really trying. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of this rhetoric is the way we as teachers accept it whole without question and instead of asking what we should be teaching or why it is worth teaching, we imagine our jobs only in relationship to what will be "required" of them in the workplace. We also rarely stop to question whether those skills are actually what will be required in the workplace or if how we are teaching them best develops those skills. It is our responsibility as citizens to behave a certain way. It is our responsibility as teachers to teach a certain skill set. We are not only bad citizens if we fail in this, but also bad people, immoral people.

This is the rhetoric of so many aspects of our lives (hence my reference to Foucault) and reading Hull's article makes me want to revisit the question of why are we teaching and what are we teaching?

"Sponsors of Literacy"

Ah-ha! How we have debated in class the question of what we are teaching and why and how we have danced around the question of power and literacy--those who would teach it only to control it vs. those who would teach it provide freedom. "Although the interests of the sponsor and the sponsored do not have to converge...sponsors nevertheless set the terms for access to literacy and wield powerful incentives for compliance and loyalty." (166-167) Not every student who comes to college is looking for "enlightenment" or some other higher meaning, but does that mean we as teachers shouldn't teach to a higher goal than what the sponsors dictate? I think again of No Child Left Behind here; there isn't much an individual teacher can do to fight that dreaded beast, but what happens when all teachers go along with it? What happens when college instructors criticize it but unthinkingly perpetuate it in the classroom by only teaching to what the "employer" wants? What does the employer want? Is it worth teaching? Can we even teach it? These are my questions to this discussion of literacy. Finally, Brandt begins the important task of questioning the sponsors, not only the literacy of readers, and what is our job as teachers in teaching awareness of the sponsor as well as how to read the text they produce?

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Stupid Lord of the Rings

The following was written while I watched Fellowship of the Ring. I toyed with the leaving in my commentary or deleting it and decided to leave it in because it shows me having a dialogue with myself while writing. I think that's incredibly interesting (not my thoughts, but the idea at work here) and thought I would keep it in as a short research piece demonstrating the composing process.


I write my response while watching Lord of the Rings. Gandalf is about to die and I'm totally going to cry (again) so in honor of our discussion about technology I would like to say the great thing about word processing is that tears on the screen don't make the ink run.

"The Technological Nudge: Word Processing Is Rapidly Becoming Word Publishing"

I am still not sold on the whole word processing is such a big deal debate. This is no doubt because the first things I wrote were on Wordstar and thus much of my rhetorical education has been using word processers. I would agree that it is worth researching rhetorical techniques of images and words, but isn't that already labeled under advertising? And along side the "what are we preparing student's for" discussion it would make sense that if students were being taught how to prepare a business presentation then this sort of images/words rhetoric would be important to cover. But if we are talking about composing--what can be gained by practicing with images and words? I think there is something to be gained, but I don't know that freshman composition can do it justice. It seems like in order for it to be more worthwhile than highschool projects we would need to severely complicate the discussion of rhetoric and that is the question this article seems to be asking (or the chapter from the book rather) but doesn't quite answer, though, perhaps it does later on.

Crap. Gandalf just died and even though I know he comes back I'm totally sad. There's some powerful rhetoric for you. Elijah Wood does cry a lot in this movie, though.

"Microsoft Word"

I found this article helpful and insightful. I also pretty much said "duh" while I read it. Again, I grew up with computers so perhaps that changes my approach to them, but who are these people that think Microsoft Word is okay? Who are these teachers that don't know to tell their students not to use grammar check? Who are these people that think grammar check is a good idea? If they're English teachers then they need to be quickly eliminated without prejudice. If they aren't English teachers at all but people in the business world then they have nothing to do with our students until after school and that's a matter of politics, not writing. I mean, I suppose it is good to point out the obvious--one never knows what people are going to think is a good idea, Titanic is proof of that--but is this really new knowledge? I guess this is something I need to discuss further in class.

Boromir is about to go down now. This has got to be the most depressing post I've ever written. And yet I keep watching...there's rhetorical theory to be mined here.

"The Internet-Based Composition Classroom"

I was incredibly surprised by this article. Not only have I now read something for school that talks about MOO'MUD but they did so in way that I found amazingly helpful. This is perhaps the first article that discusses the uses of computers in a way that seems self-aware of it's limitations. They acknowledge what they hoped to gain in this article as well as what they wanted to avoid. There didn't seem to be the narrow sightedness that has challenged some of our previous articles in relation to the internet and I appreciated their dialogic look at their research. It is always pleasant to see a theorist using the theory she is promoting.

I appreciated what was said about the benefits of the computer classroom--I also appreciated the way the internet chats were used in conjunction with (a big factor) face to face interaction. This article actually made me rethink my own writing education. I spent many formative years on a MUD myself and now I have to ask, how much of my comfort with language was affected by that? Do computers shape writing ability or affect what is already there? I think that is, maybe, the next question in this discussion. But then, that is the question facing most of composition pedagogy.

And if I may digress for just a moment, I'm having a thought spawned by my emotional reaction to LOTR. Along with computers, how much of our students rhetorical ability, writing style, dialogism, etc, is shaped by the movies they watch? This is a topic we haven't read anything on yet, but it seems like an important issue. So many people in society today watch movies, a lot of movies, and doesn't the type of movie watched in some way shape how we view the world? How we construct meaning with language? There is an image/word dichotomy for you, not to mention music. I knew there was something worthwhile in my remarking on the movie.

Oh, Sam is running after Frodo. There's a homosocial versus homesexual discussion just waiting to happen.

"Undistributing Work Through Writing"

I enjoyed reading this article as I know next to nothing about technical writing. I found it very informative as well as indicative of exactly the issues Susan and Dr. J have been bringing up throughout the semester. I find I can't help but think back on the myriad of theorists (Bizzell among them) who have discussed the importance of recognizing "discourse communities" and being able to move back and forth. In that way, along with skills such as interpreting information, basic writing (what we now do in 101) and technical writing speak to the same skill set. I can't help but wonder if technical writing is best treated as "next step" in writing education. Should we teach directly to it, or should we begin with basic writing/thinking skills and then offer it after something like 102? But this, of course, brings us back to what are basic writing/thinking skills and that is, in some ways, the driving question of all the articles we've read.

I think technical writing is more challenging is evident through Slatterly's discussion of the number of texts writers must manage. This is a significantly different process than what we are currently teaching to in freshman composition. I believe, perhaps, that these skills can be shaped through exercises like the research paper, but doesn't approach what is needed as Slattery points out on page 317. Back to my earlier question then, how do we best prepare students to learn about this either in the classroom or the workplace? And what would the value be of making all student's take such a class, or at least all students in a business oriented profession? Would it be better to "prepare students for the workplace" in something like that?

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Agree to Disagree

"The Writer's Audience Is Always Fiction"

I had such high hopes for Ong's article. I find this piece a little too, well, literary--if I may say such a thing. I feel odd even saying it that way because I feel the divide between com and lit studies is more imagined than ordained, but none-the-less I had no idea what three-fourths of Ong's article had to do with the writer as imagining an audience. He made excellent points in the beginning and then went on to prove them; all of that is well and good, but the pages upon pages of Hemmingway were more than a little excessive. I acknowledge the necessity of the proof and that this section was not the thrust of the article, but I felt as if Ong got off topic. I didn't feel that his extreme deconstruction of Hemmingway's writing style supported his point of the writer's audience as fiction as effectively as he imagined it to. Obviously he fictionalized me and could not account for the reality. But that is why we read and respond.

And that is, perhaps, what I felt was missing from the discussion, sacrificed on the altar of literary reading techniques and scholarly proof. He states that each reader makes her own text, and even ostensibly attempts to prove it, but his article, purportedly about freshman writers, would have been significantly more helpful to freshman writers if he had kept it in the realm of the writer. Did everyone follow that sentence? Ong appears to engage here in what I would call academic self-pleasuring. He is so excited to discuss how all these texts have fictionalized writers that he fails to bring his argument full circle, and meet the promises of his first few pages. What does fictionalized audience mean for the teaching of freshman writers? Why is this worth knowing or discussing? What is your point in explicating this? The knowledge that all audiences are fictionalized is not enough, it needs to go further than that.

But I acknowledge the date of 1975 on this article and it seems this was new knowledge then. For that reason I am appreciative of my chance to fill in another gap in my knowledge of the scholarly debate.

"Collaborative Learning and the 'Conversations of Mankind'"

Fantastic. Stupendous. This is totally the stuff I want to write when I grow up.

I found Bruffee's article one of the most insightful and helpful articles we have read thus far. My reason for this is because it keeps all of its discussion in the realm of what it purports in the beginning--the teaching of comp--and it explicates his own thought process even as it challenges the readers. There is no hidden agenda here. Bruffee is not challenging the authority because he can or because he hopes to upset the equilibrium. Rather, operating from the standpoint of knowledge as "social artifact" (427) he works outward to discuss the implications of that for the composition classroom and how better to teach to writing.

And that is, I think, what is missing from much of the scholarship we have read, or at least, not discussed as much as I think would be helpful. How better to teach writing. This is the issue around which composition pedagogy revolves and yet, often we are derailed by talks of cognitive processes, scientific studies, etc. These are all important issues but instead of discussing them in relation to how to teach writing we discuss them as answers in and of themselves. I think part of the reason for that is our own acceptance of teacher (scholar) as authority.

"Our authority as teachers, accordingly, has had its source in our nearness to one of these secular versions of the mind of God" (431). I love that Bruffee takes this issue on. How often do we stifle conversation and, therefore, learning because we are uncomfortable with the possibility of losing control? Of being found out? Of being challenged? How often do we dismiss abnormal discourse specifically because it is abnormal? I feel these are all incredibly important issues to think on. My irritation with the blog article the second week of class stemmed specifically from this issue. Teachers in that article vaunted the computer over the personal because it "empowered" the student, but in fact it does the opposite. It distances the student from the teacher thereby reinforcing the power structure in place by creating a false sense of empowerment. The teacher can then control the student at no risk to him/herself that might be had in face-to-face interaction. Here, in an article written in 1985, Bruffee anticipates that.

I think, and I have no proof of this actually, that to be a good teacher you must be willing to look the fool. A willingness to learn is always precluded by a willingness to be challenged, or proven wrong. And as a teacher, shouldn't one of your goals be to learn from your students even as they teach you? Perhaps that's a naive standpoint, but I think I might stand by it for now. I am, though, willing to be proven wrong.

I think.


"Consensus and Difference in Collaborative Learning"

This is why you read all the articles before you discuss them. I have realized after reading Trimbur that I read into Bruffee's article all the meanings and answers that I thought should be there, instead of reading critically everything he was (might have been) saying. Trimbur brings up several incredibly important points in regards to consensus I believe, acknowledging the criticisms, Bruffee's own weak points, and offering a more sensical possibility, but I would like to discuss the possibility of more Bakhtin informing this conversation.

First of all, much of what both Bruffee and Trimbur describe is identified in Bakhtin as the critical interanimation of discourse. This idea that everyone speaks in different discourses to different people (discourse communities) and once one becomes aware of this the critical interanimation begins. This ties in directly with the idea of struggle, as brought up by Timbur which is illuminated better, I think, in Lu's "From Silence to Words: Writing as Struggle." The idea here is that we all unconsciously move from discourse to discourse, but real control, knowledge, what-have-you, is achieved when conscious knowledge of that movement is gained. Furthermore, Bakhtin's ideas of the internally persuasive discourse (everything that is me) and the authoritative discourse (everything that is reified and defies challenge) would further illuminate this idea of consensus. What I mean by this is that everyone is in a constant struggle as their internally persuasive discourse seeks to assimilate the outside, which includes authoritative discourses. Thus, Bakhtin tells us, we are only half-ours and half-someone else's.

All of this goes to affect my reading of collaborative learning and the idea of knowledge as social. It was because I went ahead and read Bakhtin into Bruffee that I didn't see some of the gaps in his argument Trimbur discusses, but I felt as if Trimbur would be on more solid theoretical ground if he had pulled in significantly more Bakhtin. This ideas of struggle and critical interanimation of discourses very simply (as anything in Bakhtin is simple) answer this question of consensus and students agreeing/disagreeing all the while to shape their own internally persuasive discourse

Saturday, April 5, 2008

I Think Therefore It's Mine

"Intertextuality and the Discourse Community"

I found Porter's article incredibly helpful and insightful. I feel that his analysis of intertextuality and how it might aid in composition pedagogy to be a missing piece of the discussion in what we have read so far this semester. His ideas seem to go hand-in-hand with many other theorists I and others have mentioned in class. Granted, writing in 1986 he was probably taking part in the scholarly debate that has shaped much of my composition theory education thus far.

While I recognize this particular vein of thought to be twenty years old, I still can't help but feel as if it is the best solution to the problem of teaching writing that I have seen yet. I feel this is the case because scholarship has consistently proven the truth of discourse communities and their affect on readers and writers. It seems from my own teaching experience and much of what I've read, that the best (perhaps only) way to give students the opportunity to enter into these discourse communities is to teach to the awareness of discourse communities.

This doesn't mean meaningless phrases like "think about your audience" or "don't use I in your paper" but offering assignments and (grading them accordingly) that give students the chance to enter into the discourse communities. Situations where they use their own writing as text or something similar that allows them to think about their own thinking in a reflexive way that allows them to "first [become] socialized [and] learn what it means to write within a social context" (44). I still believe that if this is accomplished they will be in a position to move between discourses and that is the knowledge that will stay with them after 101 ends. That knowledge will also allow for improved writing across the curriculum because it is exactly this ability to enter into discourse and manipulate it accordingly that is writing. At least, that is still what seems to be the case to me.

"Plagiarism, originality, assemblage"

If I had the time or inclination I would totally make this response an "assemblage" of the piece. I just want you all to know that I thought about being brilliant and then decided against it.

I think there are some incredibly and interesting ideas in this article. The idea of reevaluating plagiarism and the binary that supports modern academic attitudes about it is, I think, an important one to discuss. Also, the idea of having students writing assemblages instead of "original" pieces is also something worth thinking about. Before I continue allow me to state that I understand they do not advocate the complete replacement of typical 101 curriculum with assemblages but instead offer one or two assemblage assignments along with more traditional writing assignments.

I think there is a place in education, our world, what have you, for the assemblage. I think as an upper level class in an of itself it would be a great idea. I don't think composition should include more than one assemblage assignment, however. My reasons for this have nothing to do with plagiarism, but very specifically to do with the fact that non-traditional media has its place and use, but will not get the students where they want to be most of the time. I'm considering many other art forms (music, art, movies, writing) that engage in what appears to me to be like the assemblage described. Many are brilliant (many more are not) and offer something to the field. But they are still not the popular media of choice. For this reason, if no other, we need to continue our quest for teaching "basic writing" more effectively.

And, I disagree that in anything you create it is all someone else's. The reason for this comes from Bakhtin's internally persuasive discourse versus the authoritative discourse. I think that all language you create is half-yours and half-someone else's. This allows me to agree with the thesis of this article even as I see the possibility for the loss of critical thought if one used the ideas here naively.

Monday, March 31, 2008

The System Is Down

I would like to begin first with "Distributed Cognition At Work." What interests me, specifically, comes at the end of the chapter on page 149: "Thus, patients in hospitals as their name implies are acted on; so too are clients in social work agencies, as are applicants who wish to be hired by personnel officers in most institutions. Students at university are like patients and clients in this respect. The focus of the institution, and of those representing the institution, is to know and inspect them." This philosophy of teaching is described and named by Paulo Freire as the "banking-concept" of education. The teacher possesses knowledge and so, opens up the student's head and deposits it, much like one would deposit money at a bank.

I don't know what the school-to-work transition is like for other majors. As an English major I had very little practical knowledge when beginning my first "real" job. Most all of my other friends were computer-science majors. If they found themselves relearning in the workplace I never heard about it. What I do know, is that while my abilities to analyze a text weren't called upon, my abilities to pick up knowledge quickly, assess what was needed of me and follow directions were. The only thing I took with me from college that actually impressed people were my speed at typing (and other computer skills) and comprehension capabilities. As an English teacher I don't see my Composition 101 or 102 classes as helping students who will find jobs in the financial sector in their job specifically.

I am tired and this is not as concise as I hoped to make it. My point is simply thus: it is important to assess what students need to learn and teach it to them. It is important for education to remain valid and current. I do not think viewing my students as patients or clients will, in any way, help those two goals. I'm basically against objectification no matter the form it takes.

I want to discuss the other three articles in relation to each other. The reason for this is that Bizzell speaks back directly to Flowers and Hayes and Ong offers some very helpful insights that better allowed me to understand Bizzell.

I was disappointed by Flower and Hayes article. After all the reading that has referenced it I don’t know exactly what I expected, but it wasn’t what was actually there. I think Bizzell actually nailed it when she said that “The Flower-Hayes model consistently presents a description of how the writing process goes on as if it were capable of answering questions about why the writer makes certain choices in certain situations” (395). Flower and Hayes attempt to acknowledge this when they say on page 285, “However, a theory of composing that only recognized embedding wouldn’t describe the real complexity of writing. It wouldn’t explain why writers choose to invoke the processes they do or how they know when they’ve done enough...The third point of the theory is an attempt to answer this question.” And so they go on to discuss “goal-setting.” I still agree with Bizzell, however. In the end she said my thoughts far more eloquently than I could. “What’s missing here is the connection to social context afforded by recognition of the dialectical relationship between thought and language” (395).

Flower and Hayes use a lot of qualifying language: good writers vs. poor writers. This bothered me as I read because I’m hesitant to classify learning writers that way. At the same time there is a definite ease with which some people writer--language comes easier to some than others. This is where Ong comes in. “The term ‘illiterate’ itself suggests that persons belonging to the class it designates are deviants, defined by something they lack, namely literacy” (19). It might seem odd to place that quote alongside this discussion of writing as skilled or unskilled, but I do so because it brings us back around to the same argument/discussion the class has been circling since the beginning of the semester: writing as art vs. science, learned vs. inherent, teachable vs. unteachable.

Ong seems to me to strike on something closer to what I imagined and intuited the answer to be. “Technologies [writing] are not mere exterior aids but also interior transformations of consciousness, and never more than when they affect the word” (23). Language is inherent, but writing is a skill. This makes it an activity between an art and science; something that can be taught but also something affected by natural talent. Just like music. Just like sports. The difference between writing, though, is that everyone (supposedly) is supposed to be able to achieve it and perform at an outstanding level. You aren’t just untalented or unathletetic if you can’t write, you’re dumb. And so the stakes are raised and we find ourselves in the current predicament. As Ong states, “Human knowledge demands both proximity and distance, and these two are related to one another dialectically. Proximity perceptions feed distancing analyses, and vice versa, creating a more manageable intimacy” (31). I feel my job as a teacher, therefore, is not to treat my student like a patient or client, but to do whatever I can to give them the skills to manage the chaos that comes with proximity, and the chance to achieve the distance to make sense of it all. Hence thinking about their thinking, recursiveness, reflexivity, and all the other terms I bandy about. It’s not about making them robots. It’s about realizing they’re people.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Don't Be A Judger

I enjoy Mike Rose. I know, I know, my enjoyment doesn't matter, but I think there is a difference between scholarship that inspires while it educates and scholarship that sucks your soul. One takes root in your conscious mind, interacting with previously held assumptions and challenges you to rethink your thoughts; the other bounces off your knowledge and, even when the reader carries the best intentions, is minimally assimilated and rarely challenged or challenges. In "Narrowing the Mind and Page" Rose examines many theories that have long since taken root in the average English teacher's mind and discusses why those theories should be reexamined. He does it with clarity, style, and, I would argue, passion. All of these things are necessary for good scholarship. All of this goes to the point of one sentence I found (and Rose himself points out) to be the thrust of the article: "Human cognition--even at its most stymied, bungled moments--is rich and varied. It is against this assumption that we should test our theories and research methods and classroom assessments" (379). This is a simply concept too often forgotten by teachers of all ages and disciplines. No matter the age, education, gender, or class no one intends to be "dumb." No one engages literature or writing with the intention of showing their lack of education, intelligence, or ability. Furthermore, Rose points out how these broad theories of the mind, while useful and enlightening, must be considered critically when put alongside writing processes. I am guilty of this; I forget sometimes to relate everything I hope to create in the classroom back to writing, hoping instead that if the student has an epiphany it will automatically translate to the page. I find a reconsideration of my theories (which include the belief that one should always be reconsidering their theory) necessary as Rose says, "A good deal of careful, basic descriptive and definitional work must be done before we embrace a theory, regardless of how compelling it is" (378). What can I say except "naturally"?

Shaughnessy offers a compelling theory about the four stages of teaching. I don't think this essay is exhaustive, nor do I think Shaughnessy intends it to be, but it does do what she says she hopes teachers will eventually do--urge us to "dive in." She once again restates the problems with judging students' intelligence and illustrates the dangers with assuming they both understand and are capable of receiving the knowledge imparted to them; what Freire would call the "banking" concept of education. She also illuminated for me the way that many teachers consider their students as uncivilized or primitive; how often teachers assume the role of the colonizers and become angry when the student doesn't wish to be colonized. That vocabulary offers an interesting look at the classroom dynamic, I think, and demands that teachers cease to see their students as someone to fight against and instead as people to work with. After all, the goal is that they learn, not that they become us, right? It is worth noting, however, that even as I say that I do hope somewhere deep down that they become a little bit like me--the world needs more liberals. But I will never EVER grade them for it.

Oh, "The Language of Exclusion" has my mind racing. Where to start? What to comment on? Well, there is the "myth of transience" which brings to mind No Child Left Behind. Part of me wishes to rant on that for a good thousand words or so, but I'm not sure anyone else is interested in reading it. There is also the incredible look at the way academics judge students, something that seems to me to be one of the hallmarks of the Mike Rose's work. I especially love what he says on page 559 in response to one teacher's complaint: "We in the academy like to talk this way. It is dramatic and urgent, and, given the current concerns about illiteracy in the United States, it is topical. The trouble is, it is wrong." This is followed up by what I would call the key point on page 561, "Tag some group illiterate, and you've gone beyond letters; you've judged their morals and their minds." This is heteroglossia at work my friends. Most importantly, however, may be the way Rose addresses the writing as science or art question, skill or talent. My favorite sentence of the whole article might be the one found on page 553, "The narrow focus was made even more narrow by a fetish for 'scientific' tabulation." I love his use of the word "fetish" there because in the ongoing debate of writing I think our need to quantify has become a fetish. We want numbers, we want math, we want logic. We want to be able to see how our students are unlearned and FIX it. We fetishize grammar because it's concrete, simple, and easy. If you don't have to consider your student's complexity then you don't have to consider yourself as teacher. We revel unwholesomely in our own intelligence. Rose calls all of this into question and he does it without attacking or belittling, but I don't feel his article is any less critical for that. While he makes comments like "such research and pedagogy was enacted to good purpose" (552) he is still saying that what was being done, and what is being done, is wrong. You can dress it up however you want--doesn't change what it is.

At times I marvel at my ability to anticipate the homework I will have to read in the future. Here in Bartholomae's essay "Inventing the University" we see, amongst other things, a discussion of audience. I felt incredibly vindicated to see that my squeamish response to "audience instruction" was also discussed here. For this reason I would like to focus on the audience portion of the essay in particular, even though Bartholomae himself goes on to use it as a vehicle to look at writing processes overall. I especially enjoy the quote on page 628 when he says, "One of the common assumptions of both composition research and composition teaching is that at some 'stage' in the process of composing an essay a writer's ideas or his motives must be tailored to the needs and expectations of his audience." But of course, someone might say, can it be any other way? What I like about the way Bartholomae discusses the writing process in this essay is that he examines and discusses the complexities at work. What is happening when a student writes a paper isn't a simply twelve-step process and thus to simply instruct the student to "consider audience" is akin to telling an eight year old calculus can be accomplished by simply filling in the formula. If you don't understand what you are doing, then you can't interpret what knowledge needs to be put where in the formula or how to manipulate the formula to acquire the desired result. And this, I suppose, is where my irritation with instruction regarding audience comes in--to instruct about audience is to assume that writing is a skill and, like grammar, such a mistake can be easily rectified. It limits the writing process and judges the student. In short, it accomplishes everything that Rose and Bartholomae (and everyone else) has told us NOT to do. I don't know yet what we should do in regards to audience, but I know what is being done is, more often than not, wrong.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Annotated Bibliography

My paper hopes to show that reflection betters writing. More than that, however, it hopes to show that reflection is best attained through dialogism and reflexivity--theorectical concepts pulled directly from Bakhtin and Freire and discussed by the articles below both in theory and in practice. I have included my six annotated sources and other sources I hope to consult prior to writing the final paper which may or may not be used.

Annotated Bibilography

Bakhtin, M.M. “The Discourse of the Novel.” The Dialogic Imagination. Austin: The University of Texas Press, 1981. Alongside Freire, Bakhtin makes up the other half of my theory. His discussion of language and langauge acquisition will be necessary to the issue I wish to research, how language is acquired and, understanding that, how best to enable better writing in the classroom. Much of the outside research I will bring in will be other composition teachers discussing Bakhtin in the writing classroom and how he is useful or dangerous. The focus of my paper is not a cultural studies ideology, but rather that dialogism--as defined by Bakhtin--is necessary to better create reflection which will in turn create better writing. It will also promote thinking about thinking, a tool students must cultivate to be more versatile writers/thinkers.

Farmer, Frank. "Dialogue and Critique: Bakhtin and the Cultural Studies Writing Classroom." College Composition and Communication 49.2 May. 1998: 186-207 This article discusses the effectiveness of Bakhtin in the writing classroom that employs the cultural studies ideology. He points out how such ideologies can't help but include Freire once writing becomes involved and he looks unflinchingly at ways in which some teachers fail in their goals to make the students better people. It offers a critique of such ideology while also reexamining Bakhtin and ways that he may be appropriated, knowledgeable of his failings, to improve dialogue and, therefore, writing in the classroom. As I discuss how the theories of Bakhtin can be used by the writing teacher to create a more dialogic classroom and, in turn, better enable reflection, I will use Farmer to illustrate ways Bakhtin is helpful and should be avoided. Furthermore, Farmer offers a look at student writing and his own responses which ground his theoretical discussion in the concrete, a move I too hope to make through Yancey as I discuss how to apply the theory discussed and why it improves writing.

Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum International, 2000. I plan to argue that a Bakhtinian approach best enables the learning of language and, therefore, improvement of writing. When Bakhtin is appropriated into the writing classroom the result bears significant resemblance to the theories expounded by Paulo Freire. For that reason I will use his book to especially discuss language acquisition and how such a cultural studies approach affects thought and writing skills. Furthermore Freire also argues for thought and writing as being inseparable and this also is discussed by Bakhtin. Freire, along with Bakhtin is invaluable in the underlining ideology of my argument--this idea of thought and language, how they intersect, and how we as writing teachers and best elicit better writing from our students.

Halasek, Kay. "Starting the Dialogue: What Can We Do About Bakhtin's Ambivalence Toward Rhetoric?" Rhetoric Society Quarterly 22.4 Autumn. 1992: 1-9. Halasek's discussion is important to my research specifically because she discusses dialogical rhetorical theory and how that informs the reading practices and understanding of readers. This is necessary because part of researching students' use of language and how to better their use of that language (through writing) is discovering ways to help them think about their thinking or to reflect. Halasek theorizes about one such way, Bakhtin, and discusses some of the problems posed by studying Bakhtin. I wish to consider this article because it is as important, I believe, to be critical of the theory one uses as it is to understand it. Halasek illuminates how Bakhtin offers insights into "structures of discourse" and why can't afford to ignore them.

Kumamoto, Chikako. "Bakhtin's Others and Writing as Bearing Witness to the Eloquent 'I'." College Composition and Communication 54.1 Sep. 2002: 66-87. Kumamoto makes many of the theoretical moves in this article that I hope myself to argue. By researching the project called the "eloquent 'I'", Kumamoto applies Bakhtin to the classroom in an effort to allow reflexive thought that offers the student authority as well as the ability to reaccess language from the position of user instead of other. This is interesting for my own research as what I am striving to prove, ultimately, is that it is only by giving students this ability to think about their thinking that they can begin to access language consciously and knowledgably. Furthermore, reflexivity is accomplished through reflection--hence Yancey. Kumamoto is offering another way to accomplish the same goal, then; by examining the techniques employed in this experiment I hope to garner some practical and theoretical knowledge to better educate my own teaching pedagogy.

Yancy, Kathleen Blake. Reflection in the Writing Classroom. Utah: Utah State University Press, 1998. While Bakhtin and Freire make up the ideological part of my argument, it is through Yancey that I will argue the best technique. I believe that one of the best ways to apply such and ideology as the Bakhtinian/Cultural studies model is through the use of reflection in the classroom. It is through asking, encouraging, and even forcing the students to reflect that their writing will improve, which is always the end goal. Bakhtin and Freire offer ideas and pleas for the importance of language, and Farmer discusses ways in which cultural studies approaches can become elitist or patronizing, but Yancey offers an argument and evidence for reflection as the best technique to improve writing and thought, without alienating the students. Through reflection it is they who do the work of thinking about their thinking and considering what impact their writing carries. This is key in avoiding the elitism that Farmer discusses and avoiding the trap of some teachers which is "I know what you know better than you do." It doesn't matter, after all, what the teacher knows; it only matters what the student knows s/he knows and his/her ability to express that through writing. Yancey, therefore, makes up the crutch of my research as I use her in an attempt to demonstrate how to apply the ideology/pedagogy garnered from Bakhtin and Freire to the writing classroom.


Other Sources

Bartholomae, David and Anthony Petrosky. Facts, Artifacts, and Counterfacts. Upton Montclair: Boyton/Cook Publishers, Inc., 1986.

Berthoff, Ann. The Making of Meaning. Upper Montclair: Boynton/Cook Publishers, Inc., 1981.

Ewald, Helen Rothschild. "Waiting for Answerability: Bakhtin and Composition Studies." College Composition and Communication 44.3 Oct. 1993: 331-348.

Lu, Min-Zhan. “From Silence to Words: Writing as Struggle.” College English. 49.4 (1987): 437-448.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

I Heart You Hartwell

One gets the impression that old Mr. Hartwell is trying to put an end to the "grammar" debate. I can respect that.

I can't help but think as I read this, though, about my own instruction in language--doing grammar drills--and how still, today, in 2008, I hear colleagues and others refer to their students as "stupid" or "less than middle-school" because of issues of grammar. It isn't the name-calling on occasion, sometimes even the best eighteen-year-old is a cretin, it is the assumption that because of the grammar the intelligence is lacking. I believe Hartwell is right when he says "It is, after all, a question of power" (228). He is referring here to the debate surrounding the teacher's power in the classroom, but I think it applies to the deeper power structure--I as educated can silence you as uneducated. If you can't speak like me, I don't have to listen. Was it Perl or Emig that remarked on something like that?

And so how do you shake the very power structures embedding the education system that perpetuate bad teaching? I am being harsh here, and my intention is not to offer disrespect, but rather to state what I see as truth. Teaching grammar by example and grading for "correctness" only--not to mention judging students' intelligence based on such usage--is bad teaching. But as graduate students and unprepared teachers are thrown into the classroom, or good teachers are beaten down by workloads and standardized tests, these structures reassert themselves. Despite everyone "knowing" that "it is the mastery of written language that increases one's awareness of language as language" (Hartwell, 224) we still argue over how best to teach the mastery of written language. In teaching to tests it becomes about the performance of skill, not true mastery; in teaching college freshman it becomes about asserting power, a particularly vicious form of the banking model, not encouraging mastery. And I'm not blaming the teacher's here, I am, after all, one of them, but I am asking how do we change anything when it is the people in charge that are perpetuating the problem?

Hartwell has set out to settle the "grammar" question and he does a fine job, but I can't help but wonder if the grammar debate is COIK--if you recognize the silliness of such an approach of course these studies make sense, but if you are still married to the idea, consciously or subconsciously, or forced into the position, of educating your students your way whether they like it or not and any failures resting solely on them then this research means little. It doesn't matter that research shows teaching grammar to be unproductive because it is the student's fault.

My question then, I suppose, is where is the research that asks the question: what fault lies with the student and what fault lies with the teacher? What concessions should each side make? When do our demands hinder their education, and when are we "preparing them for life?" These are the underlying questions of the grammar debate as I see it; we talked about them briefly last class. And until these are answered, no amount of research will convince the well-meaning teacher that s/he is doing more harm than good.

Friday, March 7, 2008

This One Time, At Bandcamp...

This is my fourth time reading Nancy Summers article "Responding to Student Writing." First as a tutor, then as an intern teacher, then as another intern teacher here in 791. Nancy and I are close. I don't think I will spend a long time remarking on it, therefore, but will simply say that this was one of those "life-changers" if you'll forgive me the Lifetime television network expression. After reading Summers article (the first time) I became aware of how readers respond to writing and specifically, how teachers can appropriate student writing. We are so enamored with what we want them to say we forget to listen to what they are saying. Each time I reread this article I am only further convinced that Summers is right. Nothing is more destructive to discourse (and therefore the teaching/learning of discourse) than the shutting down of discourse. The not allowing a student to speak and not listening or reading what they are actually saying. I see this so often in teachers that scoff at student writing and mock it instead of recognizing the very serious cognitive moves the student is trying to make. Furthermore how often do we simply say to a student something equivalent to "write better" and assume that will mean something? As a camp counselor at band camp I served as the shoulder for highschool students to cry on after the guest director reduced them to tears. Learning incredibly difficult music in a week mistakes were often made. When he couldn't take it any longer he said "Just play the right note! It's just as easy as playing the wrong one and it sounds better!" I have since tried to never tell someone to "just do anything" as if their lack of performance, in writing or music, was a simple issue of absent-mindedness.

Connors article was interesting. It makes sense to me that it was written in 1985 because it seemed a little dated. Just some of his own views on the necessity of mechanical correction and what not. I did have the epiphany, however, while reading this article why it matters that we keep reading summaries of the late 19th century, early 20th century composition world. We all assume grammar has always been the necessity. We have been completely shaped by the grammar apparatus. In reading these histories it becomes increasingly apparent that grammar, how it stands today, is not an original being created on the sixth day, but a construction that has been used, like so many things, to draw class, gender, and racial lines. I think that is important to remember when arguing about how "important" it is to teach.

That being said I do, actually, believe it is important to teach, but I look at it as a student's ability to finesse his or her writing. I've actually thought of grammar in musical terms for years (sorry for all the references, I don't know what's going on with me tonight) but grammar serves as dynamics for writing. It tells the reader how to read, where to pause, where to stop, how fast to go, what to feel. Word choice plays into this too, but these surface level thing are the difference between writing, and great writing. For that reason I think we must teach it, but like dynamics, it can't come at the beginning. It must come at the end. Until you know how to play (write) a thing you cannot shape it.

Elbow and My Crisis of Teacher-Self

I agree with Elbow. After reading Writing Without Teachers I wasn't sure I would ever actually say that. Not that I agreed with all his ideas in the book, but by the time we were done discussing "cooking" and "growing" in 791 I was ready to cook that book and feed it to the pig farm. After reading this article I am once again reminded of my silliness in judging a scholar by only one piece of work. This article, written some ten (twelve?) years after Writing is significantly more thought through, more informed, and all around, seems to present a deeper understanding of the writing process.

I especially enjoy the way he looks at the different aspects of academic discourse. This is a problem I have dealt with since I began teaching. What do I teach my students? Especially when what I am supposed to be teaching them isn't one, easily definable thing, but a nebulous rhetorical idea? Elbow, it seemed, took that question on with research, theory, and thoughtfulness, and he offered some incredibly interesting and useful theoretical considerations to the reader.

I know no one cares if I found the article fun or not, but I did. It spoke to my nerdy soul.

"There are plenty of instances of people who know a lot about engines or writing but don't know the professional discourse of engineering or composition" (Elbow, 137). This is just so heartening to hear from a respected scholar and see acknowledged in a published article. Most teachers understand that use of language is not necessarily indicative of intelligence (I think, or I hope) but many of us, caught in the trap of knowing our students' intelligence will be judged by others must find away to empower them with language, while not devaluing what they have to say. Compound that with, as Elbow say, "everybody does better at metacognition and metadiscourse if he or she can use ordinary language" (149) and you are left with the paradox of needing them to speak as they know how, so that you can teach them to speak as they must. How is such a thing possible?

I carry significant anxiety about what I have managed to teach my students and whether or not I have screwed them for the rest of their academic careers. Was what I taught them right (write)? Will they be able to write papers for other classes and pass? Can they pass the university administered tests? Will they get a job? Was I hard enough? Was I confusing? Did I contradict myself? Elbow seems plagued also by these same questions and his article has, therefore, stemmed from that (it appears). For that reason I appreciate his observations and will hopefully find away to incorporate them into my own teaching pedagogy/theory. But what if I've already screwed up too much? This is the problem with theory that raises good questions. You can't help, I don't think, but feel as if you might be one of those "teachers" alluded to who do the students more harm them good.

I knew I should have stuck with teaching music. Nobody actually cares how well you strike the triangle.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Dissonant Thoughts

I've written two personal theoretical papers thus far in my academic career. In the first I attempted to ascertain my personal pedagogy, and in the second I attempted to compound that personal pedagogy with what I had learned after three semesters of teaching. As I consider what I would like to research for this paper I am slightly at a loss--I have many questions I could ask: what modes are still in use today and are they useful? Is writing an art, science or both? What is rhetoric's place in composition? How do we measure in improvement? But which one of these is most deserving of research? I think beginning at my teaching experience and working outward I might best discover an answer to that question.

At UMass Boston, to some degree, teaching composition was easier. I had a fun self-developed curriculum, engaged students, and a school's pedagogy that coincided completely with mine (at least as far as my naive, little mind was aware). Because the curriculum had been created with my involvement and the oversight of people much smarter than myself, every assignment, every discussion, every aspect of the class was laid out with specific purpose and intent. The students were free to discuss anything they wished, express any thought they desired (within the bounds of good manners of course) and it worked. Their thinking was recursive, their writing improved, and I was flying on cloud nine.

After teaching at UNLV this year I've discovered the student body is, as a whole, better at writing than the students at UMass, but much less involved in their personal education. There are many factors that might contribute to this, but they are of no consequence here. My point is that in this new environment with texts already chosen for me I was forced to develop my own curriculum (if I so chose) and evaluate other teaching styles. These were all very good things, and caused me to come face-to-face with my own teaching style. How do I promote recursive thinking to students that don't care? How do I lead them through a thought-process without condescending to them, or simply telling them the answer when they won't talk? How do I structure a class with a modal text book without stifling individuality?

It is these questions I entered this class with and discovered were being asked by (seemingly) everyone. I cannot help but consider the first set of possible research questions in light of my personal teaching research questions. The idea of writing as art or science seems to figure in strongly--if it is science then the modal and rhetorical analysis method should work splendidly. But it doesn't. But if it is art than the personal free expression method ought to lead to discovery and improvement--it doesn't always. This seems to indicate to me that either a) writing is both art and science (which could be said of all "arts") or b) it is art, but the theory has not been fully explored.

Perhaps, tentatively, I would offer up as the possible question: how do we promote recursive writing through thinking? This question seems to encompass all my concerns as it would need to take into account teaching methods (rhetoric vs. modal vs. inquiry-based) and the success rates of these methods--demonstrated by Hillocks most recently and other surveys we have read previously. This question seems particularly important to me, also, because in much of what we have read this semester in particular, teacher/researchers seemed involved in attempts to ferret out new or improved ways to teach writing. Everyone appears to be in agreement that recursiveness through reflexivity and revision, is key, but no one seems to agree on how best to accomplish this. I would like, therefore, to enter into this discussion--examining previously offered theories, scholarly responses to those theories, and finally offering my own thoughts to the discussion.

This would be different than a personal pedagogy paper because the focus would not be what I believe should be done specifically, or what I have done in my classroom, but rather what techniques I have read, employed, and considered seem to best promote recursive writing through thinking. This is a preliminary attempt to refine my thinking to a researchable topic and cannot, I believe, be truly narrowed until engaged in discourse. I have already engaged several readings myself, but am unsure how best to pursue a contributory thought to the discussion. I know that I do not believe teaching pure modes/imitation is the solution, nor do I believe heavy reliance on rhetoric to be the answer. This belief comes from a lack of recursive thought inherent in these activities. Like Kinneavy, however, I believe that to cut one part of the discussion out and rely too heavily on another is a mistake. My goal, then, would be to navigate the theories of Emig, Sommers, Perl, Berlin, Berthoff, Knoblauch and Brannon, Freire, and others in a way that, when placed alongside meta-analytical research, allows for an unbiased look at how best to educate young writers in a comprehensive way, specifically, through the use of recursive writing/thinking.

Theory and the Fear of Personal Learning

The articles by Murray, Emig, Perl, and Sommers spoke to my soul. These are my people. The meta-analysis by Hillocks sucked my soul; though, I will discuss its obvious importance and what I feel it adds to the field of composition.

Emig says that "successful learning is...engaged, committed, personal learning. Indeed, impersonal learning may be an anomalous concept, like the very notion of objectivism itself" (12). She also points out that "writing...connects the three major tenses of our experience to make meaning" (13). To that end I have decided for this response to make meaning from our readings, to attempt to learn as much as I can, and to that end I intend to be "engaged, committed" and to demonstrate "personal learning." I feel the best way to promote this personal learning is to discuss the first four essays together instead of in pieces--this demonstrates (I believe) the recursive, learning process I follow while reading them. I will then go on to discuss Hillocks article and how I feel it speaks back to the first four pieces both successfully and not successfully.

I have laid out my intentions as clearly as possible because it has been my experience that when one launches into a dialogue with the text, if the dialogue is obviously personal it is assumed that reflexive thought is not taking place. This was as true for me as a freshman as it is as a graduate student. Murray states that "the student finds his own subject. It is not the job of the teacher to legislate the student's truth" (5) This means that often teachers see students' thoughts--thoughts different from their own--and fail to recognize the "process of discovery through language" (Murray, 4). Instead of respecting the student "for the search for truth in which he is engaged" the teacher attempts to enforce his own truth upon the student (Murray, 5). This happens chiefly, I believe, because "composing does not occur in a straightforward, linear fashion" (Perl, 34). But we as teachers, students, people, have been taught the "appropriate" forms of knowledge and presentation of that knowledge. Such presentation is linear, scientific (unemotional) and stated without question for what has been thought even as it states questions for further thought.

It is frustrating to accept knowledge in an unregulated form because the teacher loses absolute power in such a situation. I believe it is specifically this dialogic, meaning-making environment involving structure and free thought (a variation of what Hillocks calls the environmental mode) that truly offers the students authority. Blogs, free-writing, and peer-review all approximate this authority, but the transfer is not total. The teacher, by judging and evaluating students' thought--not matter how ridiculous--instead of challenging and discussing, still maintains the authority of the position and thus does not create an environment where revision, as Summers would call it, composing as Perl would call it, writing to learn, as Emig would call it, process as Murray would call it, and inquiry, as Hillocks would call it, may actually happen. And because I believe, as Emig does, that writing is learning and learning can happen through writing, I feel this approach is important at all levels of instruction, not simply that of Freshman Composition.

I thought of our class discussion on tone as I began Hillocks article, specifically, the first page when he uses words like "attack" and "vituperative attack" (133) to describe the objections of Emig and Graves. He returns to their "attacks" at the end of the article when he states "the results of this study have important implications for research. First, they belie assertions by Emig (1982) and Graves (1980) that experimental research has no value for classroom teachers and that it has no utility for composition researches" (162). Hillocks here attacks Emig and Graves himself simply with less incendiary language. By saying his work "belies assertions" he is saying that Emig and Graves are wrong. I do not see a problem with his assertion any more than I see a problem with Emig and Graves assertion (I will clarify momentarily) but I do see a problem with the need to hide what we mean behind language (doublespeak) in order to maintain an "even" tone. Attacking, disproving, contradicting--all of these things can be used incorrectly, but I feel that to discount them purely on principle is a mistake. It is through argument--attacking-- that scholars can discuss new knowledge and hash out theories. An attempt to pretend this happens with no emotion is to attempt to remove the "personal from the political" (Rich) and to pretend "personal learning" (Emig) doesn't occur. This is a false attempt that actually fools no one, but does serve to render the discourse lifeless and inert. And it is in this way that studies become, as Graves states being quoted by Hillocks, not "readable [and] of limited value" and can't "help teachers in the classroom" (133).

And Hillocks doesn't offer any theory to speak of to teachers. His research is incredibly important in that it shows what techniques work and which ones do not. How can we, as teachers, learn if not by research such as this? But it offers little to nothing about why they work. And it is this why that fuels and motivates all good theory (I believe). A teacher must know why she teaches what she teaches, why she assigns what she assigns, what her goal is, why a particular inquiry is used, and how to best facilitate meaning-making (Knoblauch and Brannon, Freire, Berthoff). Hillocks draws a fine line between natural and environmental modes of teaching, but does not explore all the ways those two modes intersect. His research shows students need structure and freedom. But it isn't until you look at Emig, Murray, Perl, Sommers, Berlin, Berthoff, and others that you begin to investigate how that dichotomy of structure/freedom can be navigated and reformed into a whole.

In this way Hillocks article is necessary to the continued growth of the field, but is not helpful to young teachers. Like all articles his should be taken in conjunction with more theoretical examinations of composition, but it doesn't offer a route to better teaching on its own. That is, what I believe, Emig and Graves were stating when criticizing such research and what Hillocks fails to realize when he criticizes them in return. And this conversation of criticism, one obvious the other veiled, is indicative of the necessity of us employing the same techniques of listening and respect with each other that we do with our students. I owe those around me the respect inferred when I attempt to understand what they are trying to say as much as I recognize what I believe they are saying. And when I respond to that it does no one any good if I hide my disagreements, nor does it do any good if I do not show an understanding of what I am disagreeing with.

I absolutely agree that I am an "expressionist" as Berlin will define me on page 717, but I absolutely also agree with Hillock that the environmental mode, as he defines it on pages 144-146, is the best approach to teaching. There is more to the environmental mode than described, however, and so in this way I both agree and disagree with Hillocks. It is through this unfettered, personal response that I learn and my own theory of composition is complicated, expanded, and refined.

Monday, February 25, 2008

The Age fo American Unreason

I found this article particularly interesting personally and also in the context of our class. The use of American language and how it is being degraded and/or changed is of particular interest to Freshman Composition (I think). It also shows the importance of discussing the interconnectedness of language and why it is so important to teach students to be aware of what they are saying, not just how they are saying it.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Modal Language

I enjoyed Robert Connors piece on modes of discourse. I especially enjoyed the wisdom of his last sentence, "we need always to be on guard against systems that seem convenient to teachers but that ignore the way writing is actually done" (455). My question is in response to Connor's assertion on page 454 that, "In our time, the modes are little more than an unofficial descriptive myth, replaced in theory by empirically-derived classifications of discourse and in practice by the 'methods of exposition' and other non-modal classes." My question is in regard to the modes, narration, description, exposition, and argument (444) and how we can say they are no longer a thing taught when very many universities around the country teach these very modes? Connors does say that "the fact that this schema did not help students learn to write better was not a concern, and even today the modes are accepted by some teachers despite their lack of basis in useful reality" (455). But knowing that, at schools such as URI and others, freshman composition is taught around four main papers, narrative, analysis, evaluation, and portfolio I am left asking is that formulation of the class not modal or are these the programs Connors is critiquing? I am curious as to my understanding of this class structure and how it fits into Connors analysis.

My only critique of Connors is that his survey of the history of composition seems to assume the reader will understand that his point is correct, but he spends little time proving it. Some well placed quotations make the point for him, but I was left questioning his conclusions in several places such as Foerster and Steadman's place as the spiritual successor of Wendell. I was unsure in this section how the theses texts Connors referred to fit in to composition theoretically. Perhaps because I didn't see enough of a difference between the pre-theses texts and the post-theses texts--at least not in such a way that was dependent solely on the theses.

I find I am haunted by Connor's words on page 454, "We do not yet know whether the paradigms will become as rigid, abstract, and useless ad did their progenitors, the modes." Understanding Connors was writing in 1981 I wonder how much of his predictions, such as the modes being on the way out, did or did not come true and how much of our current teaching methods are valid, and what has solidified, becoming rigid and abstract.

I find it particularly interesting that Kinneavy's article was written in 1969, but we are still grappling with some of the same issues today. I am thinking specifically of the literature/composition issue splitting many English departments. I appreciated his approach to the development of composition studies, and appreciate his attempt to label the different types of discourse. I also appreciate his warning that "no composition program can afford to neglect any of these basic aims of discourse" (137). All of that being said, his paragraph on examining language as a scientist seemed slightly faulty to me. While he acknowledges the rarity of language in a vacuum, he also maintains that the rarity "does not destroy the validity of the classifications" (Kinneavy, 130). This is the only thing I take issue with in this essay, but one I feel is worth noting.

I draw attention to this because it brings back to mind the science/art debate that has popped up in several of our readings, Juzwik et. al. and others. I agree with the need to study language and, even, the need to study it empirically--if we cannot test and evaluate it is difficult to measure what methods improve the teaching of writing. However, I would go so far as to say that language never exists in a vacuum; perhaps a small step past Kinneavy, but an important one I think. Kinneavy seems completely aware that language cannot be divided up neatly without disastrous consequences; however, he also seems intent on preserving the forms of different types of discourse. I am reminded of Connors here, though, not wholly. I bring Connors in because I see the possibility for misinterpretation of Kinneavy's words, specifically those on page 138: "In fact, each aim of discourse has its own logic, its own kind of references, its own communication framework, its own patterns of organization, and its own stylistic norms...Overlaps certainly occur but the ultimate conflation and confusion of any of the aims of discourse with any other is pedagogically disastrous."

I see the potential for this as a basis for "modes" and their continued teaching because while what Kinneavy says is true, the learning of language, which is what freshman composition teachers are attempting to promote, does have to straddle these overlaps. I say this because students make connections that don't fit within the purview of the book--I feel Berlin would agree with me. In their learning of language and how to navigate its discourses keeping the discourses separate is useful, but only up to a point. Kinneavy says that himself, but I feel that there is more room for overlap than he seems to. Specifically I don't believe the discourses should simply all be taught, but should be taught as they relate to each other, users, listeners, and the world. We come back to dialogism once again. I am unsure if this could be a meaning that is interpretable in Kinneavy as I will need to reread, but it appears as if he is still promoting the teaching of all discourses, but each in its place separately. If that is true, which is may not be, then I would argue that is "modes" by another name. Either way I look forward to discussing this in class and clarifying the possible theoretical implications of all of these texts.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Current-Traditional Is Still Traditionally Current

I see significant value in the study of rhetoric as Corbett points out in the introduction to his book Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student. An ability to analyze rhetoric is the single best defense against those "dangerous" forms he points out on pages 24-25: propaganda, demagoguery, brainwashing, and doublespeak. Certainly in our modern society of advertising and politics these skills carry significant currency. His breakdown of rhetoric and conclusions is well stated and serves to acknowledge multiple sides of the rhetorical debate. On page 26 he states, "There is no denying that formula can retard and has retarded inventiveness and creativity. But to admit that formula can inhibit writers is not to admit that it invariably does." All of this being recognized, however, it appears at times that Corbett's desire to examine pure rhetoric and its forms does prevent him from making connections that a modern reader/speaker might be in a better place to accomplish than Aristotle.

For my purposes I am looking at this article specifically how it may relate to the teaching of Freshman Composition. To that end I must ask the question what aid can this article offer in the teaching of writing to non-writers? I begin by agreeing with Corbett that "inexperienced writers need nothing so much as simple, definite principles to guide them in arrangement of material." (20) I must disagree with him, however, on the idea of "simple, definite principles." Young writers are in dire need of structure, but because writing is a composing process that is reflexive, structure is not the same thing as a how-to. And it appears at times that Corbett is discussing Aristotle et. al's "how-to" approach and how we might currently profit from it.

Finally Corbett has a great mastery of language and its parts, but he seems to have less of a mastery of the writing process. This seems illuminated by his statement on pages 19-20: "The chief reason for writers' inarticulateness on certain subjects is the lack of experience or reading background that can stock their reservoir of ideas. At other times, their inarticulateness stems from their inability to look into a subject to discover what they already know about the subject." That lack of education and vocabulary is sometimes a part in students' silence is undeniable, but as has been examined in Rose, Salvatori, and others students are often without language--that is, they have the ideas and the insights, but don't feel authoritative enough to use them. Nor do they have access to the "academic" discourse.

It is for this reason and others that I feel Corbett might be an excellent resource for teachers looking to expand their own knowledge of the parts of writing and for upper-level writers who have gained the ability to shuttle between the discourses (Bartholomae) and are now looking for greater skill in manipulating them. I do not, however, feel that his techniques are the best available to the teaching of beginning writers. They are a different breed, and studies continuously show there is no twelve-step process to better writing. It is a circular mess of recursive thinking--naming, opposing, defining as Berthoff offers in one definition. For that reason it might be more helpful, though doubtlessly more frustrating, to continue to focus on language and language-use as a whole for freshman writers and composers, and leave manipulation of language through its parts to the more experienced ones.

I really enjoy reading Berlin, especially following Corbett. After reading Berlin I am able to name what disturbed me slightly with Corbett's article--it felt as if it were treating rhetoric in a current-traditional fashion. What I find most disturbing about Berlin's article is that he is so correct, and modern universities across the nation are still teaching this way.

He says on page 62 that, "Current-traditional rhetoric is the triumph of the scientific and technical world view." That composition departments fit this mold is, I feel, beyond denial. The forms used in many programs match the forms Berlin names: description, expository, persuasion and so forth. What's more, the attempt to make writing scientific--evidentiary, rational, and impersonal, is something that is detrimental to both student and education. Berlin seems to agree when he says, "This scheme severely restricts the composing process" (63). It all seems to stem to me from an Enlightenment philosophy, "Reality surrenders its meaning readily when correctly approached, with the proper detachment" (Berlin, 63). Our problem now, as it was then, is that reality rarely gives up its truths regardless of how approached.

Subscribing to a more post-modernist theory myself, I absolutely agree with Bakhtin's definition of dialogism which states that, "everything means, is understood, as a part of a greater whole—there is a constant interaction between meanings, all of which have the potential of conditioning others." What this means is exactly what I believe Berlin is saying here, such models of Current-traditional rhetoric are reductive and do nothing to improve students' abilities to think about their own thinking. He is absolutely correct when he states that this method "was probably doing an adequate job of training students for the new technical professions, encouraging a view of reality that held them in good stead in their professional lives" (Berlin, 75-76). But I feel there is implicit judgment in Berlin's tone here. Teaching students to be machines does not seem as if it should be the ultimate goal of the teacher. Teaching them not to question but only to perform does not seem like education.

I see writing as an art, not a science, and as such I believe it should be approached with a dialogic attitude. What that means is that I do not think we should remove the personal from the political as Adrienne Rich would say, but should encourage students to use their own experiences, thoughts, feelings, and to reflect on those. I do not think freshman composition is a place for the teaching of scientific writing, but rather an environment to foster the composing process. I feel this is justified because if a student learns to be reflexive in thought, to make meaning, to see the world and all its connections (including to his/herself and his/her emotions) then s/he will be in a place that the scientific method, business writing, creative writing, and all other forms of composing will be accessible. They will be in a position to continue learning. But if they are simply taught to model they can only reproduce that which they have already seen because they have no advanced facilities with which to learn easily on their own. I feel teaching writing is as much a process of teaching to the philosophical mind as it is to the linguistic one. I believe also that I am agreeing with Berlin, Freire, Knoblauch and Brannon, Berthoff, Salvatori, Bartholomae, Summers and others and others in this view.