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. 

Grader Frustration

The information that Hairston gives regarding the writing process, including how the brain works during this process, contributes to the idea of other authors we have read that writing is messy and non-linear.  Emotionally, romantically(?), the idea of focusing on the process rather than the product appeals to me.  Let's all get together, hold hands, sing Kumbaya, and let the writing flow, right?  I love it, I really do.  But, if you ascribe to the notion that good writing is at least partially defined by its ability to communicate effectively to its intended audience, then some attention has to be paid to the end product.  Teaching proper grammar is vital to a student's ability to create good writing.  Their reader has to be able to make sense of it all, and that isn't going to happen if their grammar is a mess.  This little reality check takes me back to the taxonomy of teaching.  As most of us agreed in class, some combination of the taxonomy is the preferred way to teach writing.

Yet, as we read these articles, and have these discussions, about preferred ways to teach writing, my frustration with grading for 1301 increases.  We can be as kind and gentle as we like when giving students our comments, but the fact is we are often sending them back papers that are bleeding red with all of the grammar mistakes.  The emphasis is on finding errors whether we like it or not.  However, I do find comfort in knowing that, even within the highly structured environment of teaching 1301 & 1302, teachers have some opportunity to supplement the outlined instruction with things like free writing.  They can also convey their own attitude regarding the importance of the process while teaching students to create a final product that will communicate their point effectively.  They may not be holding hands and singing Kumbaya, but maybe at least some of the students will discover the beauty of the messy process called writing.

Nurturing Angels

Since I started taking TC classes in January, every time I talk to someone who's been in the program a while and I mention teaching ENGL 1301 they tell me the same thing, "Don't base your opinion of teaching on 1301 or you might give up on teaching all together.  It's terrible!"  I heard this so often that I became determined NOT to let teaching 1301 be a negative experience for either me or the students.  I'm not teaching this semester, just grading, but I also came to grading with the intention to keep a positive attitude towards the students.  However, I have experienced some frustration, and amazement, at the frequency and consistency of mistakes in virtually everything I am grading.  This frustration peaked one evening when I confirmed that both my 16 year old son and 11 year old grandson know that periods and commas go inside quotes, while most of the freshmen I am grading do not.

So, I was grateful for Shaughnessy's introduction to Errors and Expectations, especially when she states, "...BW students write the way they do, not because they are slow or non-verbal, indifferent to or incapable of academic excellence, but because they are beginners and must, like all beginners, learn by making mistakes" (p.390).  I also appreciated Dr. Kemp's gracious tone as he urged us not to judge our freshmen too harshly.  I think it is important to remember that our freshmen are not stupid, just beginners.  It doesn't matter what we think they "should" know or do, or how frustrated we may get with the "system" that allowed these students to come to college so ill prepared.  The fact is they are here and, to a certain extent, their fate is in our hands. 

Let us be nurturing rather than avenging angels! 

How Do We "Really" Teach Composition?

I empathize with Crowley's frustration with the fact that we tend to teach composition in a way that is contradictory to the natural writing process.  From class discussions, and personal conversations I've had with others in our program, it seems to me that most of us share a similar frustration.  We want to do so much more.  We want the teaching and writing process to be more personal, more messy, more Macrorieian.  Yet, it seems that the practicality of teaching so many students so many things in such a short time limits our ability to do this.  It appears necessary that every instructor of ENGL 1301 be using the same format, and be doing the same thing at the same time for the "system" to work.  This is not necessarily a bad thing.  The "system"  accomplishes many goals for students and instructors alike.  Still, it leaves us sharing Crowley's and Macrorie's frustration.  What about the messy stuff, the heart stuff, the "real" writing?

I have a friend who is in the TC PhD program.  After teaching ENGL 1301 and 1302 numerous times, she taught ENGL 3365 this summer, and she was thrilled with the experience of getting to teach her own class her own way.  It reinvigorated her love of teaching, and helped her remember why she was doing this in the first place.  It seems teaching basic English classes in a rather scripted way is part of the process of paying our dues until we get far enough along that we can "really" teach.  The danger here is that the distaste students often already have for English classes just gets reinforced by this system, and that some grad students may get permanently turned off from teaching by it.  How can we salvage the necessary evil of mass producing basic English classes?  By bringing the personal, individual element to our classrooms.

Maybe we are constrained by the limits of the "system," but the way we decide to implement our structured instruction is up to us.  Perhaps we can use Macrorie's free writing exercises to give our students a taste of true self expression.  Maybe we can plant seeds of thought regarding invention during our discussions and exercises.  We have the ability to implement or supplement our  instruction with skills, practices, and discussions that reflect the things we think are most important to the writing and learning process.  This is our basic training, and once we make it through the obstacle course, we can build further upon what we've learned here and apply it to our classes when we get to "really" teach.

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1.03.01

Reflection vs. Revolution

William Riley Parker and Albert R. Kitzhaber have something in common - they both feel that the way we teach English composition, and university English departments in general, need an overhaul.  Where they differ is that Parker bases his ideas on the past, while Kitzhaber is more forward thinking.  Though both men assess the situation from a specific point of view, Parker spends a great deal of time lamenting that we have forgotten our roots, while Kitzhaber focuses more on productive possibilities for change.  Kitzhaber's blow by blow analysis of the English department situation is relevant even today, which could be a bit discouraging since this reinforces his prediction that the need for radical and sweeping reforms may continue to be ignored. However, after detailing the main issues in college and university English departments across the nation, such as, "confusion in purpose, content, and organization; inexpert teaching; poor textbooks," his analysis of what is wrong with the way English composition is being taught automatically provides us with possible solutions for these problems.

Overall, Parker leaves us with a feeling of chastisement and a sense of hopelessness, yet Kitzhaber provides us with a productive analysis and something to consider as we become integrated into the decision making process in our respective English departments.  From how we choose to teach our own classes, to our willingness to try new teaching techniques, we can be an influence for positive change in the way English composition is taught and how our departments are run. To do so, we must acknowledge our past, but continue looking toward the future.

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1.03.01

How Shall I Teach... Let Me Count The Ways

Thinking toward the possibility of teaching next semester, I am very interested in the Taxonomy of Instructional Emphasis that was presented in class on Thursday.  I came to college with the idea of being a teacher, so along the way I have critiqued every instructor I have had regarding their effectiveness, and what I could glean from them in the way of "to do" and "not to do" when I am a teacher.  Most were forgettable, a few very memorable, and a few others incredibly bad.  So, I have spent a lot of time thinking about what kind of teacher I want to be, and I use the word teacher rather than instructor because I have had many instructors who didn't know the first thing about teaching.

Looking at the Taxonomy of Instructional Emphasis, it would be easy to just toss aside the traditionalist or formal approach as antiquated and designed primarily for lazy teachers.  As well, it would be easy to embrace the expressive or romantic instructional method as validation for the students’ thoughts and feelings and as a kind of slap in the face for the traditionalists.  I would probably have leaned toward the romantic emphasis when I first started college.  I viewed the prospect of reading students’ papers, and being privy to their thoughts and feelings, as a privilege and I felt quite romantic about it.  Though I still anticipate this experience as a privileged one, time and knowledge have dimmed the romantic glow a bit.

As Dr. Kemp stated, most effective writers and writing teachers employ aspects of all four emphases, and I think this is a very reasonable approach to teaching.  This combination approach seems especially desirable when considering ways to keep students’ interest, presenting materials in a stimulating and effective way, and providing for assessment methods that actually do assess the students’ individual progress and not just to determine a grade.  A balanced approach that applies each instructional emphasis as appropriate for the particular class, the individual student, and the specific situation seems to be the wisest, and a little romance couldn't hurt.