Last Will and Testament

Will: 
I will that we all become excellent, caring, knowledgeable, open minded, ever evolving teachers.
I will that the 1301 & 1302 classes meet the needs of the students, instructors, and graders better.
I will that our students will not only become better writers but better thinkers.
I will that we all remain sane as we continue and complete our respective academic programs.

Testament: 
I testify that I am inspired, informed, and encouraged by my experience in this class.
I testify that I am grateful for getting to share this experience with all of you (including you Dr. Kemp).
I testify that I am both terrified and excited about my teaching for the first time next semester.
I testify that this has been a very challenging and satisfying semester.

I hope to see you all in some context next semester.  Have a great holiday!

Much Ado About Nothing?

We have read many theories of correct and incorrect ways to teach freshman composition, and here lately, we have heard presentations on several different universities and their approach to the same subject.  And I find myself wondering, are we making more out of this whole teaching writing thing than is truly prudent?  We have expressed shock and awe over some of the teaching theories and the fact that even with all of this discussion and new thought not much has changed in the realm of composition for a really long time.  We have felt indignant, incensed, and discouraged.  And because we care about being good teachers, and we care about good writing, we have agonized a bit over what really is the best way to teach composition.  And yet, with so many good ideas going unheeded, and so many different approaches to teaching composition, somehow college students manage to learn to write (some better than others) and they graduate, and get jobs, and go out into the world, and few significant calamities occur. 

I'm not suggesting that we don't care, that we don't try, or that we don't continue entertaining new ideas and approaches to teaching composition.  What I am suggesting is a bit of perspective.  Even Atkinson asks, "What do notions like "voice," "critical thinking," "clarity," and "plagiarism" mean outside the cultural contexts in which they have been developed and are so deeply embedded?" (p. 1534).  So, as important as it is to inspire, inform, and initiate our students into the world of academic writing and effective communication, let's all take a breath and remember that this isn't life or death we are talking about here.  Regardless of our approach, or the constraints of the system we operate within, our students will learn to write (some better than others) and they will graduate (mostly), and get jobs (hopefully), and few significant calamities will occur.

Blogging About Blogging

In the spirit of blogging about an article on blogging, I submit a true diary/journal blog for your consideration:

It's after midnight (sorry Dr. Kemp) and I am just now getting to my blog.  I had a rough day and then I allowed myself to spend the evening with my family.  Now I'm paying for it.  I am tired.  Bone weary.  This level of weariness seems to be an almost constant companion lately, and increasingly I find myself asking, "What the hell am I doing?"  I started college late in life, took 6 1/2 years to get my bachelors (single mom, work, school, etc.), and this is my second masters.  I have been in school for the bulk of the last 12 years, and even though I feel like I have finally found my niche in technical communication, I still have my doubts at times.  I am still not completely sure of what I want to be when I grow up.  At times, I'm not even sure I want to complete this program.  Right now a nice 9-5 office job sounds really good.  Go to work and when you come home, you are really off work.  I never feel like I'm off work.  Even in the middle of the night sometimes.  The to do list is always spinning in my brain.  Between class work, grading, and family, I feel spread so thin you could slide me under the door. And next semester will be even more challenging since I will be teaching two sections on top of everything else.  I am honestly worried about how I can possibly handle it all, and when I am this tired, I am not even sure I want to try.

So, what do I do?  Do I quit, get a "normal" job, and let all of the work I've done so far go to waste?  Do I abandon a love of teaching just when I am finally going to get to be in an official classroom?  Do I let the fear, anxiety, and weariness become my reality?  Do I admit defeat, acknowledge my limitations, and slip out the back door to parts unknown?

I don't think so.

Because the doubts and fears and anxiety and weariness are not my reality.  They are temporary, albeit persistent, demons that I must do battle with, but they are not my reality.  My true reality is the stimulation of good classroom discussion, interesting information, and the fun of learning something new every day.  It is getting to know new and interesting people with whom I may have nothing else in common except that we're all in this boat together, yet it is enough for camaraderie and even friendship to develop.  My true reality is knowing that all of this effort is leading me towards something, even if I'm not completely sure what that something is.  My true reality is that when all is said and done, there is nothing else I'd rather be doing right now.

So, I'll keep plugging along, doing the best I know how, and hoping (praying?!) that is is good enough.  Put one foot in front of the other, check the next thing off the list (like a midnight blog) and move on.  In the meantime I get to hang out with some really smart and interesting people (like you!) and learn things and do things I would otherwise not get to do.  And who knows, maybe somewhere along the way I'll figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

*Postscript:  With the dawn of a new day, and a good night's sleep, school and life don't seem nearly as bleak as depicted here.  I somewhat regret the baring of my soul when I was so depleted. I don't want to be perceived as a whiner, but it was honest so I'm not changing it.  And, after all, post publication regret is also an inherent aspect of the blog, isn't it?

The Risk of Writing

Writing publicly and for an actual audience introduces a risk factor that is not there when writing privately or for someone you know very well.  The potential audience is always a factor as you decide what words to put on that paper.  And the risk factor is also very real.  The risk of judgment, criticism, or just being misunderstood.  So, as our students begin to put themselves at risk by making their thoughts public through their writing, our comments can have a significant impact on how they feel about that experience.  We try to give them enough critique to help them be better writers without discouraging them by nitpicking every little thing.  Yet, as others have expressed, sometimes it is hard to know where to draw that line.  Perhaps, one of the benefits of the RaiderWriter system is that the students get reviewed by at least two graders on their first major writing project.  Since each of us comes to grading with a bit of a different perspective, the students are more likely to get a well rounded grading experience.  Of course, this can work against the students if between the two graders their writing is just ripped apart.  But that's not what I saw as I was doing second and third reads of the drafts.  I saw (most) graders making a sincere effort to provide constructive criticism without taking it too far, and then the second grader usually backed up what the first grader said while making a few points of their own.

By ourselves we may experience concern over whether or not we are doing enough or even going too far with our comments.  But, with the variety of feedback the students receive during the course of the semester, maybe we balance each other out.  Individually we may feel that we flounder a bit, but perhaps as a whole we do a good job that ultimately benefits the students and, in the process, we become better commenters.

Shades of Gray

I used to be a pretty black and white person.  I felt strongly about how most things "should" be done, how people "should" live, right/wrong, good/bad, were all pretty clear to me.  I was pretty young and I was very sure of things.  Over time I have learned that there can be many "right" ways to do something, that people usually have a good reason for the choices they make, and that right/wrong and good/bad are pretty subjective. One of my favorite sayings now is, "Don't should on me." 

All that to say that I am delighted by the two articles we read this week.  Both of them took existing ideas about things and said, "Let's look at it this way."  Harris proposes that rather than approaching our students with an attitude of converting them to our "language," we acknowledge the value of the multitude of languages the students already participate in and simply add the language of the university to their experience. Winsor suggests that technical work and technical writing are mutually dependent rather than isolated events, and that all writing, even scribbles on post-it-notes, can be considered a factor in invention.

This is a beautiful aspect of academic dialogue; just when someone espouses a theory that makes perfect sense and everyone is applauding, someone else steps up and says, "Let's think about it another way."  All of these challenges to the status quo are what keeps us on our toes, keeps us considering new possibilities, and makes us better students and teachers.  Anytime someone draws a line in the sand and says, "This is the way it is.  This is the way is should to be," we need to be cautious.  Rarely is only one way the right way. Rarely are absolutes a good thing.  Let's keep our hearts and minds open so that we will always be willing to consider a new way of thinking or doing things.  And let's be especially careful not to "should" on anyone.

Social Activisim in Composition

I am intrigued by Berlin's statement that, "A rhetoric can never be innocent, can never be a disinter­ested arbiter of the ideological claims of others because it is always already serving certain ideological claims."  There has been some discussion in both of my classes regarding our social responsibility as teachers of composition, and just how far should we go in trying to inspire our students' social consciousness.  According to Berlin, there is no way to escape the ideological nature of rhetoric, and I agree with him to a certain extent.  Anytime anyone attempts to communicate with someone else, either through speaking or writing, they are inevitably communicating from the perspective of their own ideology.  


Even though rhetoric may automatically be considered ideological, I do not feel a responsibility to use my classroom  as a platform from which to inspire my students to activism.  I do feel, however, that through the composition and discussion experience of the English classroom students' minds, perspective, and world view will be broadened.  I expect to fully participate in this process with, "Think about it this way..." prompts, and by creating a classroom environment that facilitates the sharing of thoughts and ideas.  That is as far as I plan to go, however, and I am okay with that.  I think that each teacher has to decide for themselves to what extent they want to use their classroom socially or culturally.

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1.03.01

What to do, what not to do!

We've pretty much all agreed by now that when it comes to teaching composition, the system is either broken or in need of repair.  At worst, the "business as usual" style of teaching writing turns students off writing completely, and at best, a few students emerge unscathed, but in reality most survive with minimal writing skills and a bad taste in their mouth.  So what can we do about it?  It's not likely that we can change the system, not anytime soon at least, but we can make a change - one class, even one student at a time, and both Hartwell and Bruffee show us how.

Hartwell hammers home the message that standard ways of teaching grammar are not only ineffective in teaching grammar but equally ineffective in teaching writing.  Bruffee stresses the need for collaborative learning and emphasizes the effectiveness of teaching writing this way.  Dr. Kemp echoes both men when he tells us that the only real way for students to learn how to write well (and even learn a little grammar along the way), and maybe even like it a little, is through peer review.  And not just any ole' peer review, but one that does not make finding errors the priority.

So there we have it.  Not only do we know what we DO NOT want to do in our classrooms, we are actually getting a better idea of what we DO want to do.  I love the practicality of this.  Theory is great, but it is empty without corresponding practical application, and these articles, and our class discussions, are equipping us not only with a sense of righteous indignation, but also real tools we can use to construct our classrooms in a way that fits each of our own chosen paradigm.