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.
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.
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.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Virtual Teachers Out Perform Real Ones
An interesting report from msnbc. Makes a person wonder how long before we see the "learning machine" like in Battlefield Earth? The book, not the movie of course.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Resistance is Futile
"Made Not Only in Words: Composition in a New Key"
I kind of hoped this article was going to be about music, not just a play on "quartet." Not to mention she uses quartet incorrectly--her composition being made up of four parts is a quartet, not quartets 1-4. Sorry, I was trying to figure out what bothered me about that so much and it just came to me. Stupid non music people. That almost makes my point before I even have to say anything.
I'm going to do my best to be brief after my explosion over the blogging article. I shouldn't have read that after a day of teaching and discussing Spenser. Bad choice on my part.
No doubt someone will misunderstand me so I will say it again--I am not against blogging in the classroom, the use of internet and other media, or the pursuing of a curriculum that does more than teach "traditional" writing. I, in fact, do not teach traditional writing. In actuality I teach something more along the lines of a philosophy class when I can and a rhetoric class when I can't.
That being said (lord how do I keep this short?) the idea that writers are right now, in this moment, writing without teachers for the first time is ludicrous. You don't need a teacher to write, never have. What the issue is, or should be, is not kids are writing and we should enable that--because of course we should enable that just as we should enable "common" reading materials or movie watching--but how do we help them gain a better grasp of language? A better grasp of language and all it implies, improved thinking process, more introspective and critical thinking abilities, dialogism, is achieved through the sequenced, recursive challenging of thought. You can get that with or without computers, with or without media.
It works best (I think) when the media used is of interest to the students; I've seen my best results when using V for Vendetta, for example. But the problem-posed, as Freire would say, is inconsequential. It doesn't matter what inquiry you set up in the classroom or where they write about it. What matters is that there is an inquiry, that there is human interaction and discourse and that they write. The rest is just working towards the best results, and that may very well include internet use.
But this computer worship I see, this "computers are so fantastic they fix all our problems" attitude being expressed is not a good way to approach things. Trust me, I've been there. Computers make bad boyfriends.
"The Place of World Englishes in Composition: Pluralization Continued"
I am very glad Canagarajah explained at the end of her conclusion that she was unsure how to implement "code-meshing" into her own writing. This explained many of the (what I would deem) rudimentary understandings that I saw in her article. I promise, I am not this much of a hater all the time.
I could write another 1000 words on this article too--it really is frustrating to me not to interact with each text in a thorough way. I will attempt to hit the high-points and am more than willing to offer deeper explanation in conversation or writing.
I think Canagarajah misunderstands the difference between ethnic languages and social/economic languages. Much of what she calls AAVE is not specifically African-American but dependent on the location and economics of the place. Growing up in the midwest I used many of the same phrases she quotes from Smitherman. That isn't to say there isn't an AAVE (ebonics being proof of that) but I seriously question how much Canagarajah understands the finite differences and reasons for what make discourses different and why.
She fails to reference significant theorists that have already concluded much of what she discusses in her article. This irritates me not because she is wrong (though she does nearly plagiarize Bartholomae at one point) but because instead of moving forward from past scholarship she acts as if she has made new discoveries. Our goal as scholars is to do our homework so that we can assume our place within the academic discussion not restate it, right?
She, and other scholars like her should seriously consider researching music as they begin attempting to understand how to manipulate language use. I actually think that is true to some degree for everyone, but many of the principles are the same between language theory and music theory. Things are right or wrong because we say they are; western society has learned to hear a particular thing as “correct” and now it is. For that reason it is important to consider shaking things up a bit. Beethoven did it and launched us from the Classical into the Romantic age, and academic writing is out of touch and stodgy. I also agree that students need to remain in touch with their natural discourses. However, like music, you can’t just do what you want. Well you can (look at 20th century pieces in writing and music) but you won’t connect with people as is your intention. It’s a foreign language. If you want to make your point powerfully in rhetoric you must use the discourse of your audience and bend it with your own authorial voice. People react to that; they like what they know and they like what is cleverly manipulated. That’s why Smitherman’s meshing was interesting (in places) and Canagarajah’s was fake. She said it herself, she didn’t know how to do it.
And finally, how can you write an article about something you don’t understand? And she doesn’t understand. She gets it in principle, but her lack of ability to implement it shows she doesn’t really get how it works. She knows it when she sees it. You can’t talk about theory in those terms; I would call that bad scholarship.
So again, I don’t disagree with the principles here, but I do think Canagarajah is lacking the sort of insight and understanding I want from my scholars. Speaking of history, she is also missing that as well as evidenced by her restatement of past revelations as her own with no footnote or acknowledgement that someone said it before. When I began this article I asked “why do we all agree composition is screwy but keep teaching it this way?” The answer seems pretty obvious; because too many of us don’t get why something works, we just know it when we see it. You can’t teach that. And you can’t build off of it.
"Written Communication"
What can you say about this other than okay? I see that writing and technologies is the least researched (or one of the least) areas in writing research and that is interesting. I also thought the remark in the conclusion about the "narrow definitions of what constitutes valid scientific research" (471) was an interesting starting point for the art/science discussion and writings place within it. Overall this article was an interesting "connector" between the other articles.
I kind of hoped this article was going to be about music, not just a play on "quartet." Not to mention she uses quartet incorrectly--her composition being made up of four parts is a quartet, not quartets 1-4. Sorry, I was trying to figure out what bothered me about that so much and it just came to me. Stupid non music people. That almost makes my point before I even have to say anything.
I'm going to do my best to be brief after my explosion over the blogging article. I shouldn't have read that after a day of teaching and discussing Spenser. Bad choice on my part.
No doubt someone will misunderstand me so I will say it again--I am not against blogging in the classroom, the use of internet and other media, or the pursuing of a curriculum that does more than teach "traditional" writing. I, in fact, do not teach traditional writing. In actuality I teach something more along the lines of a philosophy class when I can and a rhetoric class when I can't.
That being said (lord how do I keep this short?) the idea that writers are right now, in this moment, writing without teachers for the first time is ludicrous. You don't need a teacher to write, never have. What the issue is, or should be, is not kids are writing and we should enable that--because of course we should enable that just as we should enable "common" reading materials or movie watching--but how do we help them gain a better grasp of language? A better grasp of language and all it implies, improved thinking process, more introspective and critical thinking abilities, dialogism, is achieved through the sequenced, recursive challenging of thought. You can get that with or without computers, with or without media.
It works best (I think) when the media used is of interest to the students; I've seen my best results when using V for Vendetta, for example. But the problem-posed, as Freire would say, is inconsequential. It doesn't matter what inquiry you set up in the classroom or where they write about it. What matters is that there is an inquiry, that there is human interaction and discourse and that they write. The rest is just working towards the best results, and that may very well include internet use.
But this computer worship I see, this "computers are so fantastic they fix all our problems" attitude being expressed is not a good way to approach things. Trust me, I've been there. Computers make bad boyfriends.
"The Place of World Englishes in Composition: Pluralization Continued"
I am very glad Canagarajah explained at the end of her conclusion that she was unsure how to implement "code-meshing" into her own writing. This explained many of the (what I would deem) rudimentary understandings that I saw in her article. I promise, I am not this much of a hater all the time.
I could write another 1000 words on this article too--it really is frustrating to me not to interact with each text in a thorough way. I will attempt to hit the high-points and am more than willing to offer deeper explanation in conversation or writing.
I think Canagarajah misunderstands the difference between ethnic languages and social/economic languages. Much of what she calls AAVE is not specifically African-American but dependent on the location and economics of the place. Growing up in the midwest I used many of the same phrases she quotes from Smitherman. That isn't to say there isn't an AAVE (ebonics being proof of that) but I seriously question how much Canagarajah understands the finite differences and reasons for what make discourses different and why.
She fails to reference significant theorists that have already concluded much of what she discusses in her article. This irritates me not because she is wrong (though she does nearly plagiarize Bartholomae at one point) but because instead of moving forward from past scholarship she acts as if she has made new discoveries. Our goal as scholars is to do our homework so that we can assume our place within the academic discussion not restate it, right?
She, and other scholars like her should seriously consider researching music as they begin attempting to understand how to manipulate language use. I actually think that is true to some degree for everyone, but many of the principles are the same between language theory and music theory. Things are right or wrong because we say they are; western society has learned to hear a particular thing as “correct” and now it is. For that reason it is important to consider shaking things up a bit. Beethoven did it and launched us from the Classical into the Romantic age, and academic writing is out of touch and stodgy. I also agree that students need to remain in touch with their natural discourses. However, like music, you can’t just do what you want. Well you can (look at 20th century pieces in writing and music) but you won’t connect with people as is your intention. It’s a foreign language. If you want to make your point powerfully in rhetoric you must use the discourse of your audience and bend it with your own authorial voice. People react to that; they like what they know and they like what is cleverly manipulated. That’s why Smitherman’s meshing was interesting (in places) and Canagarajah’s was fake. She said it herself, she didn’t know how to do it.
And finally, how can you write an article about something you don’t understand? And she doesn’t understand. She gets it in principle, but her lack of ability to implement it shows she doesn’t really get how it works. She knows it when she sees it. You can’t talk about theory in those terms; I would call that bad scholarship.
So again, I don’t disagree with the principles here, but I do think Canagarajah is lacking the sort of insight and understanding I want from my scholars. Speaking of history, she is also missing that as well as evidenced by her restatement of past revelations as her own with no footnote or acknowledgement that someone said it before. When I began this article I asked “why do we all agree composition is screwy but keep teaching it this way?” The answer seems pretty obvious; because too many of us don’t get why something works, we just know it when we see it. You can’t teach that. And you can’t build off of it.
"Written Communication"
What can you say about this other than okay? I see that writing and technologies is the least researched (or one of the least) areas in writing research and that is interesting. I also thought the remark in the conclusion about the "narrow definitions of what constitutes valid scientific research" (471) was an interesting starting point for the art/science discussion and writings place within it. Overall this article was an interesting "connector" between the other articles.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Blogging and the Age of Impersonality
This is going to be a long one. Gird your loins and settle in. I'm about to break all the brevity rules.
I (in an attempt to get homework done early so that I could enjoy my weekend) thought I would read the blogging article tonight because it was short, looked fun, and why not? All jokes about Terminator, Tron, and I, Robot aside I'm incredibly disturbed, not by teacher's choice to use blogs or even the public vs. private issues, but by the assumption, unchallenged by anyone who replied, that computer communities are superior to real live ones. To explain I must share a bit of personal information, but I promise it is relevant.
I used to be a computer nerd. What I mean by computer nerd is in the computer lab from the time it opened until the time it closed playing Tsunami, a MUD (a telnet program that is purely text based, a precursor to Everquest and all other online roll-playing games). On this game we could chat, we could play, and we could dream. I learned many valuable skills such as how to type upwards of 80 wpm, how to process text incredibly fast, and how to reinvent myself into whomever I wanted to be. I started playing around the age of thirteen so really it was perfect timing. We, of course, played all other manner of games but Tsunami, being a text-based game, is particular to this discussion.
By the time I graduated college with my undergraduate I had learned several incredibly important lessons: life is more fun when not encapsulated on a computer screen, friends are more real when you've met them, and no amount of pretend teaches you much of anything except how much everyone wishes they were someone other than who they are. And make no mistake, when the brunt of your interaction occurs via the internet it is all pretend.
As I read this article I grew increasingly upset by the teacher's unfettered excitement at student's opportunities to interact via the Internet. The pressures of the classroom could be avoided, shy students could engage, and writing could be shared more publicly and more easily. The last part about the writing is fantastic--I agree with the idea of public and easily accessible writing; it is important to give authority to the students. But the first two issues, avoiding classroom pressure and not demanding live interaction in a serious way is ridiculous and quite possibly harmful. Also, their assumption that any writing is as good as any other writing is false. Not because we need to write college essays of particular types, but because what matters, specifically, is the thinking process. That does not occur through everyday text messages, emails, and musings. Unless you discover or are directed towards the sort of dialogic cognitive moves that it takes to truly write well, you will have a significantly harder time mastering the writing process. It isn't about introspective, personal assignments, it's about thinking about your thinking and attempting to force the students into that sort of rhetorical move. A blog might very well be the best place to do it, but not just because it's more "normal" for them or because they might like it better.
Computer relationships are not the same thing as real relationships, teacher-student, student-student, or otherwise. I say this as a former serious computer-user. With things like match.com and eharmony we live in an age when relationships are increasingly being handled online. I understand the appeal. When instant messaging you can think through what you want to say before you type it. You can avoid confrontation. You can say what you want without having to deal with someone staring at your or challenging you vocally. Computers offer a buffer that allows for the user to feel powerful and if that user has a margin of rhetorical ability they can feel like a god.
But I'm not interested in promoting that sort of behavior in my students. Perhaps you think I overreact to this article and it isn't the use of the blog that bothers me, but, specifically, the replacement of in-class writing and dialogue with the blog. That is what is prompting my reaction. I've seen computer relationships and I've seen what they have done for people and to people. I do not consider my job as a teacher to be one that encourages this sort of disconnect with humanity. Yes I strive for dialogism in myself, my classroom, and my students, but while I may accept their lack of awareness of my message I do not accept the inevitability of that lack.
With the aid of the internet students don't have to write for themselves; they write for who they imagine themselves to be. With the lack of classroom interaction there is no accountability and the image of what they imagine can reign unchallenged. I'm not in the habit of judging my students or even praying for their change, but when one of my student's says something unacceptable (like Jews are greedy, or fat people cause children in Africa to starve) I can hold them accountable for that thought process, demand they prove it through verbal debate in a way that teaches them more about discourse, writing, and their own thought processes than blogging ever can. There is a barrier when you blog. It is not nearly as public as reading a paper aloud or watching someone read it in front of you. The danger of the internet is that it is a one-way mirror. You can see everything while remaining safely at home, hidden in your booth.
I am not opposed to blogs as tools to use in conjunction with freshman writing classes and I am not unaware of the theoretical advantages blogs offer to a classroom. But blogs must be recognized as what they are, a tool, and harnessed as any other tool is to a teacher's personal teaching philosophy. The assignments still need to be recursive and sequenced. The writing still needs to be held up to some sort of a standard (not grammatical, but dialogic, meaning-making). And teachers should not hide themselves behind computers because it's easier to deal with people through a screen.
And it is easier. They aren't challenged and you, while giving them the authority to write what they will are always, ultimately, in control. It's the perfect solution to a society with all the aspects of free thought and none of the responsibility. We certainly won't be making them better people then. But I guess we can shoot for better writers.
I (in an attempt to get homework done early so that I could enjoy my weekend) thought I would read the blogging article tonight because it was short, looked fun, and why not? All jokes about Terminator, Tron, and I, Robot aside I'm incredibly disturbed, not by teacher's choice to use blogs or even the public vs. private issues, but by the assumption, unchallenged by anyone who replied, that computer communities are superior to real live ones. To explain I must share a bit of personal information, but I promise it is relevant.
I used to be a computer nerd. What I mean by computer nerd is in the computer lab from the time it opened until the time it closed playing Tsunami, a MUD (a telnet program that is purely text based, a precursor to Everquest and all other online roll-playing games). On this game we could chat, we could play, and we could dream. I learned many valuable skills such as how to type upwards of 80 wpm, how to process text incredibly fast, and how to reinvent myself into whomever I wanted to be. I started playing around the age of thirteen so really it was perfect timing. We, of course, played all other manner of games but Tsunami, being a text-based game, is particular to this discussion.
By the time I graduated college with my undergraduate I had learned several incredibly important lessons: life is more fun when not encapsulated on a computer screen, friends are more real when you've met them, and no amount of pretend teaches you much of anything except how much everyone wishes they were someone other than who they are. And make no mistake, when the brunt of your interaction occurs via the internet it is all pretend.
As I read this article I grew increasingly upset by the teacher's unfettered excitement at student's opportunities to interact via the Internet. The pressures of the classroom could be avoided, shy students could engage, and writing could be shared more publicly and more easily. The last part about the writing is fantastic--I agree with the idea of public and easily accessible writing; it is important to give authority to the students. But the first two issues, avoiding classroom pressure and not demanding live interaction in a serious way is ridiculous and quite possibly harmful. Also, their assumption that any writing is as good as any other writing is false. Not because we need to write college essays of particular types, but because what matters, specifically, is the thinking process. That does not occur through everyday text messages, emails, and musings. Unless you discover or are directed towards the sort of dialogic cognitive moves that it takes to truly write well, you will have a significantly harder time mastering the writing process. It isn't about introspective, personal assignments, it's about thinking about your thinking and attempting to force the students into that sort of rhetorical move. A blog might very well be the best place to do it, but not just because it's more "normal" for them or because they might like it better.
Computer relationships are not the same thing as real relationships, teacher-student, student-student, or otherwise. I say this as a former serious computer-user. With things like match.com and eharmony we live in an age when relationships are increasingly being handled online. I understand the appeal. When instant messaging you can think through what you want to say before you type it. You can avoid confrontation. You can say what you want without having to deal with someone staring at your or challenging you vocally. Computers offer a buffer that allows for the user to feel powerful and if that user has a margin of rhetorical ability they can feel like a god.
But I'm not interested in promoting that sort of behavior in my students. Perhaps you think I overreact to this article and it isn't the use of the blog that bothers me, but, specifically, the replacement of in-class writing and dialogue with the blog. That is what is prompting my reaction. I've seen computer relationships and I've seen what they have done for people and to people. I do not consider my job as a teacher to be one that encourages this sort of disconnect with humanity. Yes I strive for dialogism in myself, my classroom, and my students, but while I may accept their lack of awareness of my message I do not accept the inevitability of that lack.
With the aid of the internet students don't have to write for themselves; they write for who they imagine themselves to be. With the lack of classroom interaction there is no accountability and the image of what they imagine can reign unchallenged. I'm not in the habit of judging my students or even praying for their change, but when one of my student's says something unacceptable (like Jews are greedy, or fat people cause children in Africa to starve) I can hold them accountable for that thought process, demand they prove it through verbal debate in a way that teaches them more about discourse, writing, and their own thought processes than blogging ever can. There is a barrier when you blog. It is not nearly as public as reading a paper aloud or watching someone read it in front of you. The danger of the internet is that it is a one-way mirror. You can see everything while remaining safely at home, hidden in your booth.
I am not opposed to blogs as tools to use in conjunction with freshman writing classes and I am not unaware of the theoretical advantages blogs offer to a classroom. But blogs must be recognized as what they are, a tool, and harnessed as any other tool is to a teacher's personal teaching philosophy. The assignments still need to be recursive and sequenced. The writing still needs to be held up to some sort of a standard (not grammatical, but dialogic, meaning-making). And teachers should not hide themselves behind computers because it's easier to deal with people through a screen.
And it is easier. They aren't challenged and you, while giving them the authority to write what they will are always, ultimately, in control. It's the perfect solution to a society with all the aspects of free thought and none of the responsibility. We certainly won't be making them better people then. But I guess we can shoot for better writers.
Friday, February 1, 2008
First Week Part 2
I absolutely loved Nystrand et. al's article. It was everything I hoped and dreamed it could be, and I'm really happy I read it last. Had I read it first I'm not sure I would have made it through Bereton's introduction. The question is, of course, what was it about Nystrand that was so darn wonderful? I give this quote as proof from page 301: "A sensitive intellectual history, therefore, must examine how the thinking of important scholars has changed, not seek merely to pigeonhole their thinking." Nystrand does what Bereton fails to do so spectacularly--he offers a dialogical survey of history that illuminates not only the theories of Composition scholarship over the years, but why they arose when they did, what they meant to the field and academia, and what use it is to the reader to understand all of this. That's what I'm looking for in an analysis of history.
There are so many things to talk about in this article and I'm afraid if I try to do it here I'll take up way to much of everyone's time so I shall attempt to paraphrase. It is freakishly scary that we still use five-paragraph essays to teach writing. I believe whole-heartedly (coming from the land of Berthoff, Bakhtin, and Bartholomae) that language, and knowledge, is dialogic and teaching pedagogies should understand this, and that the distinction between literary and composition studies is false, imagined, and the highest form of academic masturbation.
Literature is language. To say that our approach to reading and writing is vastly different seems to me created by people who couldn't write, don't like to read, or just plain hate each other. I took issue with some of the programs related in Bereton's introduction because they excluded reading from the writing classroom. Everyone agrees that reading makes you a better creative writer, so why don't we agree that reading makes you a better all around writer? I could go on about this for pages. It's something I will revisit at a later date.
I myself would rather talk about movies in an intelligent, theoretical context than most anything else. However, I love discussing literature and language. But as evidenced by my Master's final project I like talking about Shakespeare and V for Vendetta. Canonical texts and comic books. Why is there a division between the two? My point is that we create academic distance between "high" art and "low" art and pass that distance on to our students. In an effort to do whatever it is scholars are supposed to do, we forget that scholars are supposed to discover knowledge--knowledge isn't stuck up. It exists everywhere, even in comic books. This academic snobbery, however, is used to judge student's writing, to devalue their discourse and place them, exactly as Freire says, in the banking model of education. The moment you acknowledge a student's immaturity of thought you devalue their discourse. I feel that is the gravest of mistakes from the most non-dialogic of teachers.
I get worked up over this stuff. I would love to rant about the false delineation between essays, narrative, analytical, evaluative, persuasive, and why breaking them up that way is non-dialogic as well, but I'm running out of room and you all have things to do. I would like to say, though, that when we as teachers are challenged with difficult theory our response (at least mine and most everyone I've discussed this with) is to say "that's not practical." However, without the theory, the why behind why something works, we are left to offer instruction like Warriner in 1950--saying that a good writer writes well is about as helpful as saying a good musician doesn't make mistakes. It neither demystifies the act of writing, nor offers any real solution as to how we should improve it. This is also, I believe, the problem with most composition text books. Chapters on audience and description don't do students any good. They don't have access to the discourse; they don't understand how language works or their own power in manipulating it. We're asking them to swim before they even know what water is.
Alright, I'm done. Really. Sorry about the wordiness
There are so many things to talk about in this article and I'm afraid if I try to do it here I'll take up way to much of everyone's time so I shall attempt to paraphrase. It is freakishly scary that we still use five-paragraph essays to teach writing. I believe whole-heartedly (coming from the land of Berthoff, Bakhtin, and Bartholomae) that language, and knowledge, is dialogic and teaching pedagogies should understand this, and that the distinction between literary and composition studies is false, imagined, and the highest form of academic masturbation.
Literature is language. To say that our approach to reading and writing is vastly different seems to me created by people who couldn't write, don't like to read, or just plain hate each other. I took issue with some of the programs related in Bereton's introduction because they excluded reading from the writing classroom. Everyone agrees that reading makes you a better creative writer, so why don't we agree that reading makes you a better all around writer? I could go on about this for pages. It's something I will revisit at a later date.
I myself would rather talk about movies in an intelligent, theoretical context than most anything else. However, I love discussing literature and language. But as evidenced by my Master's final project I like talking about Shakespeare and V for Vendetta. Canonical texts and comic books. Why is there a division between the two? My point is that we create academic distance between "high" art and "low" art and pass that distance on to our students. In an effort to do whatever it is scholars are supposed to do, we forget that scholars are supposed to discover knowledge--knowledge isn't stuck up. It exists everywhere, even in comic books. This academic snobbery, however, is used to judge student's writing, to devalue their discourse and place them, exactly as Freire says, in the banking model of education. The moment you acknowledge a student's immaturity of thought you devalue their discourse. I feel that is the gravest of mistakes from the most non-dialogic of teachers.
I get worked up over this stuff. I would love to rant about the false delineation between essays, narrative, analytical, evaluative, persuasive, and why breaking them up that way is non-dialogic as well, but I'm running out of room and you all have things to do. I would like to say, though, that when we as teachers are challenged with difficult theory our response (at least mine and most everyone I've discussed this with) is to say "that's not practical." However, without the theory, the why behind why something works, we are left to offer instruction like Warriner in 1950--saying that a good writer writes well is about as helpful as saying a good musician doesn't make mistakes. It neither demystifies the act of writing, nor offers any real solution as to how we should improve it. This is also, I believe, the problem with most composition text books. Chapters on audience and description don't do students any good. They don't have access to the discourse; they don't understand how language works or their own power in manipulating it. We're asking them to swim before they even know what water is.
Alright, I'm done. Really. Sorry about the wordiness
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