Is Facebook the answer to Mathland? How do we self-motivate students to want to write and desire to write? While this question does seem an oxymoron, since motivating anyone to do anything isn’t self-motivation, but the question still remains relevant. It seems to me that Facebook and similar technologies have achieved something important and powerful; they have provided the means for people to want to write, to want to respond to ideas that intrigue them and make them think; yet inside a writing classroom writing is considered a completely different notion altogether. How do you equate writing on Facebook and other social technologies to writing inside of an academic classroom that seems stale and dead? I think once we learn to teach writing in a different form, a form that allows and privileges students writing through these social technologies, then the writing class will be changed for the better.
It surprises me that the writing class, and academic classrooms for that matter, has hardly changed in the last 150 years even in the face of these new and exciting technologies. Why has the academy been so hesitant to adopt these technologies and allow them to open up new worlds of academic thought for their students? Sure I think teachers and the academy are scared to learn technologies that they fear their students might actually be more knowledgeable about then they are, but I don’t think fear is an excuse for this blatant disregard of technology. Why do we consider Facebook and other similar social technologies inferior or insufficient to be used for classroom purposes, when there is obviously so much potential in these technologies for self-motivated writing? I don’t know. Maybe it is because the kind of writing that currently takes place in these technologies is so horrible that it would be a travesty to consider it academic writing. However, these technologies have yet to be tapped for their full potential in the academy, and I think that once we adopt and start using these technologies in the academy we will see a dramatic change in student and academic writing altogether. But first I think we will have to reconsider our notions of privileged and unprivileged discourse in the academy before any of these social technologies will have any effect on academic writing. I guess we will just have to wait and see what happens.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Response to Atkinson
I enjoyed Atkinson’s article on post-process writing, since I hadn’t considered the criticism on process writing before writing it. The notion that Atkinson makes in his article that literacy is much more than simply reading and writing and is instead a collection of social activities that influence our entire concept of language and literacy, makes perfect sense to me. Language lies at the heart of what writing is, and our social activities influence our language so much and as result of this our concept of writing is thus wrapped up in these social activities as well. However, it seems to me, that these social activities are hardly ever given a thought inside a freshmen composition course, and instead the teachers champion the academic essay in which the students write about subjects that are dead to them and have no bearing on their lives whatsoever. It seems to me, that if students are to be truly literate in this social world they must address and respond to these social activities of which they are a part of through writing, through their expression of a social language.
I see these social activities going hand in hand with the power struggle that exists within the process centered classroom. It is the power that defines what ideas are privileged over others, and what is and isn’t appropriate to discuss and write about in a writing class. The struggle between the teacher and students sets the stage for who holds the power, while the ultimate power holder is the grade. No matter how much power the students are given, it is all a front, since the only true power that exists in the classroom is the grade. How do you address the social realm of language and writing in a classroom that is ultimately defined by a power structure build on letter grades? Yet at the same time, how do you remove that power structure and still maintain a successful writing classroom? After all, everyone knows that freshmen only write in these classes because of the final grade. The notion of self-motivation lies at the heart of this, and I think it will ultimately be the self-motivating classroom that is successful in getting students to write about and address the social world that they are a part of. I just hope that Facebook isn’t the answer to all of this.
I see these social activities going hand in hand with the power struggle that exists within the process centered classroom. It is the power that defines what ideas are privileged over others, and what is and isn’t appropriate to discuss and write about in a writing class. The struggle between the teacher and students sets the stage for who holds the power, while the ultimate power holder is the grade. No matter how much power the students are given, it is all a front, since the only true power that exists in the classroom is the grade. How do you address the social realm of language and writing in a classroom that is ultimately defined by a power structure build on letter grades? Yet at the same time, how do you remove that power structure and still maintain a successful writing classroom? After all, everyone knows that freshmen only write in these classes because of the final grade. The notion of self-motivation lies at the heart of this, and I think it will ultimately be the self-motivating classroom that is successful in getting students to write about and address the social world that they are a part of. I just hope that Facebook isn’t the answer to all of this.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Response to Haswell and Commenting
Before reading Richard Haswell’s article on Responding to Student Writing, I hadn’t given much thought to commenting. I suppose a lot of this has to do with the fact that I’ve never been in a position of power to judge and grade student writing before. While I did work in the Writing Center during my time as an undergraduate, I only provided thoughts and suggestions to student’s writing and never passed judgment or assigned grades to their writing. Now that I’m in a position where I’m force to respond to the student’s writing and assign an actual grade to it, I’m also forced to consider how my comments will affect the student. I do believe very strongly that comments play a huge part in how students learn to become better writers; it certainly helped me in my writing experience and while I don’t necessarily think that it is the only way students learn to write, I do think feedback and adapting to feedback is a necessary part in anyone’s writing education, especially college freshman.
It seems strange to me when I mention to people that I was forced to take freshman composition at my undergrad they always have the same response of: really? I think I learned a lot about writing during that course, things that I probably hadn’t even considered during my writing life in high school and I am grateful for that. Looking back at that course, I can’t remember what assignments I had to complete or what the actual material we covered was. But the one thing that I always seem to remember is the impression I had after reading my instructor’s comments, simply because they often pointed out things that I hadn’t thought of to write about. Before that class I never had any teacher thoughtfully respond to my writing; it was always “great job!” or worthless comments that didn’t help me whatsoever. I never had comments about how to actually improve my writing. And while a lot of people in this program didn’t take freshman composition, and probably never needed it, I still see a huge amount of benefit in it mostly because of the feedback in teacher’s comments. It’s these comments that allow the student to hear other ideas and forces them to make a conscious decision about their writing that ultimately allows them to write better. The complexity theory, or whatever it’s called, which makes the theory of evolution makes perfect sense when applied to writing and commenting. Giving feedback as a teacher and allowing students to adapt to that feedback is a natural process of writing, and I think that this goes hand in hand with writing pedagogy.
It seems strange to me when I mention to people that I was forced to take freshman composition at my undergrad they always have the same response of: really? I think I learned a lot about writing during that course, things that I probably hadn’t even considered during my writing life in high school and I am grateful for that. Looking back at that course, I can’t remember what assignments I had to complete or what the actual material we covered was. But the one thing that I always seem to remember is the impression I had after reading my instructor’s comments, simply because they often pointed out things that I hadn’t thought of to write about. Before that class I never had any teacher thoughtfully respond to my writing; it was always “great job!” or worthless comments that didn’t help me whatsoever. I never had comments about how to actually improve my writing. And while a lot of people in this program didn’t take freshman composition, and probably never needed it, I still see a huge amount of benefit in it mostly because of the feedback in teacher’s comments. It’s these comments that allow the student to hear other ideas and forces them to make a conscious decision about their writing that ultimately allows them to write better. The complexity theory, or whatever it’s called, which makes the theory of evolution makes perfect sense when applied to writing and commenting. Giving feedback as a teacher and allowing students to adapt to that feedback is a natural process of writing, and I think that this goes hand in hand with writing pedagogy.
Response to Last Week and Winsor
Since I didn’t write a response last week and my student conscious has made me feel awfully guilty about it, I’ll try and remember the topic of last week and attempt a response to it.
I extremely like Winsor’s notion of writing as invention because it’s something that I believe in but never knew it until I read her article. For me writing allows us, especially in a collaborative environment or community, to invent new ideas and new knowledge that wouldn’t otherwise have been made known to the community. What the act of writing does is it forces us to assign a language to abstract thoughts so that we can articulate those thoughts to others. The act of writing itself is social since it is meant to be read by others, and it allows others to respond to and think about these ideas in relation to their own. So by writing a thought down and articulating it in language and sharing it with others, it creates new knowledge with others in the community that then becomes shared by the community as a whole. So in this sense, writing is epistemic but not by itself. It is epistemic through a community and in the community. It is the communal aspect of writing that invents and creates, because much like an open forum that is always shifting and changing, writing is also shifting and changing through the community that it is a part of.
Taking this idea of writing and placing it in a community and site such as a blog or online forum, it’s easy to see the power in this. Looking at an online forum’s timeline and seeing all the written responses to other pieces of writing and seeing how new ideas are being considered and shaped within the community of the forum is a very powerful thing. It allows for new ideas to be invented and created within that community, and it is the community that assigns meaning and power to those ideas. Now taking this idea of writing and applying it to a freshman composition course, it creates numerous possibilities and ideas to be invented within the communal class, and it’s precisely these new ideas that give students the ability to think of things they hadn’t considered before and write about them. So then the act of writing becomes perpetual: initial writing is followed by responding writing which is then followed by more responding writing in a cycle that has no limits. And I think this is one of the great and amazing things of writing.
I extremely like Winsor’s notion of writing as invention because it’s something that I believe in but never knew it until I read her article. For me writing allows us, especially in a collaborative environment or community, to invent new ideas and new knowledge that wouldn’t otherwise have been made known to the community. What the act of writing does is it forces us to assign a language to abstract thoughts so that we can articulate those thoughts to others. The act of writing itself is social since it is meant to be read by others, and it allows others to respond to and think about these ideas in relation to their own. So by writing a thought down and articulating it in language and sharing it with others, it creates new knowledge with others in the community that then becomes shared by the community as a whole. So in this sense, writing is epistemic but not by itself. It is epistemic through a community and in the community. It is the communal aspect of writing that invents and creates, because much like an open forum that is always shifting and changing, writing is also shifting and changing through the community that it is a part of.
Taking this idea of writing and placing it in a community and site such as a blog or online forum, it’s easy to see the power in this. Looking at an online forum’s timeline and seeing all the written responses to other pieces of writing and seeing how new ideas are being considered and shaped within the community of the forum is a very powerful thing. It allows for new ideas to be invented and created within that community, and it is the community that assigns meaning and power to those ideas. Now taking this idea of writing and applying it to a freshman composition course, it creates numerous possibilities and ideas to be invented within the communal class, and it’s precisely these new ideas that give students the ability to think of things they hadn’t considered before and write about them. So then the act of writing becomes perpetual: initial writing is followed by responding writing which is then followed by more responding writing in a cycle that has no limits. And I think this is one of the great and amazing things of writing.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Response to Timbur
To dissent or not to dissent, is that the question?
Timbur’s article was an eye opener for me on a couple of levels. I strongly agree that dissent is needed in social interaction for numerous reasons, because it creates new ways of thinking and it opens up new ideas to be considered among groups. However, I also think that dissent is problematic because too much of it can hinder progress towards the creation of new knowledge and bring conversation among groups to a halt. While consensus does seem appealing at first among group interaction, I do agree with Timbur in that it can bring group interaction to a halt as well. Much like a catch-22, this is how I view consensus and dissent; both can be good at certain times but too much of either can shutdown conversation and create problems.
I think dissent can be a powerful tool in a writing classroom, because as Dr. Kemp explained it allowed some students to voice their opinions that differed from the group. This created new ideas for the other students that originally formed a consensus on the topic, which ultimately led them to write a great deal about a topic they didn’t have much to write about at first. If everyone had originally agreed, would they have conversed as much as they did when they dissented? I don’t think so. However, the key factor to dissent is that when faced with an opinion that one doesn’t agree with, that person must vocalize their dissenting opinion, which isn’t always the case. There have been numerous times when I have been part of a group that forms a consensus with which I don’t agree with, but that I ultimately agree with in the end for the sake of consensus. The reason why? Because dissent takes time and effort, and when the group is faced with a deadline or when it’s under stressful conditions it doesn’t always have the luxury to dissent.
It’s funny that this is how I’ve come to view dissent. I agree with Timbur in that we need to examine why we do the things we do, especially in a literature class as he discusses. It’s part of critical thinking, which in turn is a crucial aspect of writing well. But most groups in a writing class don’t necessarily have the option to dissent among its members, because ultimately things need to get done. While dissenting does create new ideas to write about as an individual within a group, it often hinders group writing as well. So while dissent is a good thing, I think consensus is a good thing as well. It all depends on context.
Timbur’s article was an eye opener for me on a couple of levels. I strongly agree that dissent is needed in social interaction for numerous reasons, because it creates new ways of thinking and it opens up new ideas to be considered among groups. However, I also think that dissent is problematic because too much of it can hinder progress towards the creation of new knowledge and bring conversation among groups to a halt. While consensus does seem appealing at first among group interaction, I do agree with Timbur in that it can bring group interaction to a halt as well. Much like a catch-22, this is how I view consensus and dissent; both can be good at certain times but too much of either can shutdown conversation and create problems.
I think dissent can be a powerful tool in a writing classroom, because as Dr. Kemp explained it allowed some students to voice their opinions that differed from the group. This created new ideas for the other students that originally formed a consensus on the topic, which ultimately led them to write a great deal about a topic they didn’t have much to write about at first. If everyone had originally agreed, would they have conversed as much as they did when they dissented? I don’t think so. However, the key factor to dissent is that when faced with an opinion that one doesn’t agree with, that person must vocalize their dissenting opinion, which isn’t always the case. There have been numerous times when I have been part of a group that forms a consensus with which I don’t agree with, but that I ultimately agree with in the end for the sake of consensus. The reason why? Because dissent takes time and effort, and when the group is faced with a deadline or when it’s under stressful conditions it doesn’t always have the luxury to dissent.
It’s funny that this is how I’ve come to view dissent. I agree with Timbur in that we need to examine why we do the things we do, especially in a literature class as he discusses. It’s part of critical thinking, which in turn is a crucial aspect of writing well. But most groups in a writing class don’t necessarily have the option to dissent among its members, because ultimately things need to get done. While dissenting does create new ideas to write about as an individual within a group, it often hinders group writing as well. So while dissent is a good thing, I think consensus is a good thing as well. It all depends on context.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Response to Berlin and mumblings
I greatly agree with Berlin’s piece in that it is important to consider the ideology of the classroom you want to achieve, since the ideology will greatly influence how you teach. I also like the idea, and we’ve discussed it before, of splitting the ideology of rhetoric into the three subsections: cognitive rhetoric, expressive rhetoric, and social epistemic rhetoric. I also agree with Berlin’s championing of the social epistemic, because most of what I’ve read during my short exposure in grad school so far has been about the idea that knowledge is constructed in the social realm. This makes sense to me and it has started shaping the world I once thought I knew.
Now going back to the classroom, it’s hard for me to visualize the social epistemic rhetoric as the primary ideology of the class. On one side of the rift I completely agree that the students should have authority in the classroom, because then they will be able to take control on their own learning. However, this side creates problems, one being maybe students don’t want any control in their learning. I have an extreme problem with visualizing this, because I loved learning and I wanted to learn about things that interested me. I wanted to be the one teaching myself. And a lot of these students don’t want anything to do with that. On the other side of the rift, I completely agree that the teacher should be in control. They should be the one that tells the students what to do and how to do it. But the problem with this is it gives the students no stake in their education, and at the end of the day they hate and resent the educational system more and more each day they have to experience it. It’s like being in a prison, and I imagine it’s pretty hard to learn in a prison.
So how do you bridge that rift? How do you make the students have a stake in their education? Certainly you can’t force them to have one, and certainly you can’t trust them to create one for themselves. Do you force the expressive rhetoric on them, and make them write about themselves each and everyday? Or do you stress the process of writing through the cognitive rhetoric so that they’ll have a messed up view of the writing process that’s set in stone for the rest of their lives? I don’t know, and I think a lot of teachers don’t know, and that’s why most of them are falling into the rift instead of trying to cross it. But I do think it’s important to cross it. We need to bridge the two sides and help these students care about their education, not just with writing but for most other things too. I think this struggle will probably never end, and that’s a big downer for me. But I think there’s hope to be found in all this. I just want to know where it is.
Now going back to the classroom, it’s hard for me to visualize the social epistemic rhetoric as the primary ideology of the class. On one side of the rift I completely agree that the students should have authority in the classroom, because then they will be able to take control on their own learning. However, this side creates problems, one being maybe students don’t want any control in their learning. I have an extreme problem with visualizing this, because I loved learning and I wanted to learn about things that interested me. I wanted to be the one teaching myself. And a lot of these students don’t want anything to do with that. On the other side of the rift, I completely agree that the teacher should be in control. They should be the one that tells the students what to do and how to do it. But the problem with this is it gives the students no stake in their education, and at the end of the day they hate and resent the educational system more and more each day they have to experience it. It’s like being in a prison, and I imagine it’s pretty hard to learn in a prison.
So how do you bridge that rift? How do you make the students have a stake in their education? Certainly you can’t force them to have one, and certainly you can’t trust them to create one for themselves. Do you force the expressive rhetoric on them, and make them write about themselves each and everyday? Or do you stress the process of writing through the cognitive rhetoric so that they’ll have a messed up view of the writing process that’s set in stone for the rest of their lives? I don’t know, and I think a lot of teachers don’t know, and that’s why most of them are falling into the rift instead of trying to cross it. But I do think it’s important to cross it. We need to bridge the two sides and help these students care about their education, not just with writing but for most other things too. I think this struggle will probably never end, and that’s a big downer for me. But I think there’s hope to be found in all this. I just want to know where it is.
Friday, October 8, 2010
The Random Thought Post
Grammar is a subject that confuses me, and not in an understanding it kind of way, but in the way that I’m confused about my own feelings towards the subject. On the one hand I think it’s a tremendously valuable thing to know to be able to write well, however on the other hand I think it’s a waste of time to teach it in schools. The reason why I believe this is, for the most part, based on my own personal experience with the nasty subject of grammar. All throughout my years in grade school, any class I had that was primarily about grammar was torture to me. I hated grammar. I despised grammar. It was torture, and not because I didn’t understand it. It was because I did get it, and it felt like such a waste of time to me because there were so many other things we could’ve spent learning about in class that we didn’t have a chance to all because of stupid grammar class. And the reason why I understood grammar back then was because I read. I read a lot. And so I was able to build up the pattern recognition system that told me when something was wrong and when something was right.
However, I still consider grammar a valuable tool to know and understand when writing; because it helps you make sense of your thoughts and communicate them in a clear and concise manner. Without grammar we would have no uniform way to communicate in written form, because then it would all be a matter of personal preference. But the way it has been taught in school is much like what the world would be without it. The grammar classes are not uniform and rather seem to be taught through personal preference and in my opinion, it just isn’t working. However, I don’t know how to fix it either. I think the model Dr. Kemp champions, the peer-editing model, is a good way to start, but I don’t think it’ll solve all the problems either, because at the end of the day the students still don’t know how to discover and fix bad grammar. They can only make an educated guess that something is wrong, and that is definitely important, but it still doesn’t solve the fact that they don’t know the grammar. I think the problem lies in the fact that the students don’t read anymore. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the kids just don’t read. And it’s sad.
I don’t know. I still have all these thoughts on the matter coursing through my head and I’ve yet to make sense out of them. Solving the matter of teaching grammar involves lots of things, things that I haven’t considered and things that I don’t even know about. But I think one of the biggest issues is getting the students to read again. I love reading and I don’t see how anyone couldn’t love reading. But that’s a post for another day.
However, I still consider grammar a valuable tool to know and understand when writing; because it helps you make sense of your thoughts and communicate them in a clear and concise manner. Without grammar we would have no uniform way to communicate in written form, because then it would all be a matter of personal preference. But the way it has been taught in school is much like what the world would be without it. The grammar classes are not uniform and rather seem to be taught through personal preference and in my opinion, it just isn’t working. However, I don’t know how to fix it either. I think the model Dr. Kemp champions, the peer-editing model, is a good way to start, but I don’t think it’ll solve all the problems either, because at the end of the day the students still don’t know how to discover and fix bad grammar. They can only make an educated guess that something is wrong, and that is definitely important, but it still doesn’t solve the fact that they don’t know the grammar. I think the problem lies in the fact that the students don’t read anymore. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the kids just don’t read. And it’s sad.
I don’t know. I still have all these thoughts on the matter coursing through my head and I’ve yet to make sense out of them. Solving the matter of teaching grammar involves lots of things, things that I haven’t considered and things that I don’t even know about. But I think one of the biggest issues is getting the students to read again. I love reading and I don’t see how anyone couldn’t love reading. But that’s a post for another day.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Response to Fulkerson, Hairston, and other thoughts too.
The readings this week seem to hark on most of what we’ve been discussing so far, in that the current model of teaching composition isn’t working, and hasn’t been working for some time. I have no complaints with both arguments, especially with Fulkerson’s main argument of teaching A,B,C and grading X,Y,Z is complete nonsense and shouldn’t be happening inside of the composition classroom. I completely agree with the notion that teachers should be reflective of their teaching so that they understand what they’re teaching and why. Also, Hairston’s article was very interesting in understanding the current composition paradigm is product focused and lacks focus on the process of writing. The exercise we did in class really made me reflect on my own writing process and how I come to achieve the end product. I hadn’t considered how I write in depth before class on Thursday and what I discovered was that most of my writing process focuses on the brainstorming part. I like to think a lot about what I write before I actually start writing, and even during the writing part I often stop and think about what I’ve written. I’m honestly glad we did the exercise in class, because not only does it reconfirm Hairston’s notion that teachers of writing should be people who write and are reflective of how they write, but also because it was helpful in reflecting on how I write as well.
It’s sad however, that we didn’t experience the paradigm shift that Hairston was calling for and was expecting to come, because I feel that it would’ve improved composition courses on a massive scale. I think a big problem that we need to overcome, and one of the problems Kemp mentioned, is that what is being discussed at the composition conferences and the theories that are being created are not trickling down into the classrooms since most of the composition teachers don’t read the research that is being produced. It’s understandable that they don’t read the research since they’re constantly weighed down with the amount of sections they’re teaching. On a whole, the composition course is riddled with problems and I’m glad we’re bringing those problems to light in class, but it also intimidates the hell out of me because I’m not sure I’ll be able to change or even fix any of those problems when I teach the course. I guess we’ll see when the time comes for that, but for now I’ll just relax and reflect on my own writing and grading because as they say, change comes one course at a time.
It’s sad however, that we didn’t experience the paradigm shift that Hairston was calling for and was expecting to come, because I feel that it would’ve improved composition courses on a massive scale. I think a big problem that we need to overcome, and one of the problems Kemp mentioned, is that what is being discussed at the composition conferences and the theories that are being created are not trickling down into the classrooms since most of the composition teachers don’t read the research that is being produced. It’s understandable that they don’t read the research since they’re constantly weighed down with the amount of sections they’re teaching. On a whole, the composition course is riddled with problems and I’m glad we’re bringing those problems to light in class, but it also intimidates the hell out of me because I’m not sure I’ll be able to change or even fix any of those problems when I teach the course. I guess we’ll see when the time comes for that, but for now I’ll just relax and reflect on my own writing and grading because as they say, change comes one course at a time.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Response to Shaughnessy’s “Errors and Expectations”
The Shaughnessy reading this week really made me think about how I consider errors. I do agree with the points she makes especially that errors are not a function of stupidity, laziness, or a character deficiency, but I do find it interesting that that’s how I’ve come to view errors. To me, errors have always been a product of laziness or apathy and one reason for that is I always assumed that students knew what was correct and what wasn’t was. Students were making errors because they were simply too lazy to reread a document and find the errors, because I dare say it, I didn’t always proofread every paper I turned in in undergrad. But then I really started to think about writing errors during and after class on Thursday. I never really considered that errors could be a factor of conditioning, and that students actually don’t know what an error is and what it means.
It’s exactly like the coding language scenario: when you code something wrong and the program tells you it’s wrong and why, the explanation looks like gibberish. Either the student knows when there’s an error but they do not know why there’s an error, or they can’t tell when there’s an error at all. I hate it, but all this really does come back to conditioning and pattern recognition. I know when there’s an error because I have a voice inside of me telling me it doesn’t sound right because of all my years reading and recognizing patterns. But most of these students don’t have that experience, because most of them just don’t read anymore. It’s really very sad. I wish there was some way to have these students go back in time and read more so that they know what errors are and how to correct them. But that would be too easy wouldn’t it?
I’m positive these thoughts will continue developing throughout this semester. I will also continue to question exactly what error is because it automatically implies that there’s a correct and perhaps this is due to social factors amidst other things. I wonder what a class on the history of English grammar and error would be like. I imagine it would be both excruciatingly painful and quite interesting at the same time.
It’s exactly like the coding language scenario: when you code something wrong and the program tells you it’s wrong and why, the explanation looks like gibberish. Either the student knows when there’s an error but they do not know why there’s an error, or they can’t tell when there’s an error at all. I hate it, but all this really does come back to conditioning and pattern recognition. I know when there’s an error because I have a voice inside of me telling me it doesn’t sound right because of all my years reading and recognizing patterns. But most of these students don’t have that experience, because most of them just don’t read anymore. It’s really very sad. I wish there was some way to have these students go back in time and read more so that they know what errors are and how to correct them. But that would be too easy wouldn’t it?
I’m positive these thoughts will continue developing throughout this semester. I will also continue to question exactly what error is because it automatically implies that there’s a correct and perhaps this is due to social factors amidst other things. I wonder what a class on the history of English grammar and error would be like. I imagine it would be both excruciatingly painful and quite interesting at the same time.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Response to Macrorie’s “Telling Writing” and Write Freely Mantra
Ken Macrorie’s Telling Writing was deeply interesting and problematic all at the same time. While I love the notion and concept of writing freely, it deeply troubles me to consider this a legitimate method of writing. Throughout the article I constantly found myself asking how one would use his methods of writing freely with and without focus to invent a legitimate piece of writing. There’s no doubt in my mind that writing freely serves a purpose, but I cannot even fathom that purpose in an academic setting. To just sit down and out my thoughts as truthful as I can serves no purpose academically and I think it would actually hinder my academic identity. Writing without organization, without the invention process as Crowley sees it, seems trite and silly to me. Writing needs to be organized and structured, it needs to be processed and methodically implemented. Otherwise, what you end up with is a stream of consciousness that serves no purpose in an academic setting. If I had to pick out my biggest argument with Macrorie, it would be his blatant lack of consideration for the audience. In my opinion, audience is the most important rhetorical device in any piece of writing. It constructs how you communicate, it applies meaning to a given piece of working, and Macrorie’s complete disregard for considering the audience when one writes seems almost amateurish. True there’s a lot to be said and commended for writing to yourself and for yourself. However, it doesn’t work when communicating and writing outside of yourself. Ken Macrorie’s “Telling Writing” was a fun read and his use of Engfsh is memorable, however his methodology of writing composition doesn’t and cannot function outside the realm of creative writing and even then it's pushing it.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Response to Brereton’s “The origin’s”, along with other thoughts
Brereton’s article really made me think about the logistics of the freshman composition course. It was an eye opener, especially from Scott’s perspective, on the struggle that still exists between the number of available teachers and the amount of students. Never before had I considered how teaching this kind of course worked out; I had always taken it for granted. From a student perspective it’s easy to take the teaching for granted: there’s an instructor that stands in front of the class that I’m supposed to acknowledge and maybe listen to every now and then, and then go home and complete the writing assignment. Now as a pseudo teacher, I realize that there’s so much more that goes into teaching, especially teaching composition, and since I’ve started this class I find myself constantly asking what the most crucial part of teaching composition is. Is it to stress grammar and make sure the student never makes a grammatical error? Is it to emphasize the writing process, so that the student understands that writing is an ongoing process, and sometimes may never be finished? These are questions that I struggle with and I don’t have the knowledge or experience to answer them ye, and may never be able to. I do champion Scott’s notion of the three essentials (Brereton 106), however I don't think that it is possible to achieve all three, especially the third essential, within the course of a semester.
I also find myself struggling with the evaluation aspect of the composition course as well, and while I do believe that evaluation is essential in promoting “good writing”, it’s the definition of “good writing” that eludes me. How do we evaluate the student’s writing, if we as a field of composition cannot define the terms and necessities that make “good writing?” True, we can outline the ways in which the student should be able to achieve good writing and enforce constant drilling and repetition of writing exercises with the hopes that they’ll produce “good writing”, but if we cannot universally agree and define what “good” is, and what makes certain writing more successful than others, how can the composition course as a whole succeed?
I don’t think we’ll ever reach a point when we’ll be able to list out steps and check boxes that define what good writing is. I think that we’ve achieved pinpointing bad writing and defining what bad writing is, but that still doesn’t help in defining what good writing is. Simply saying don’t do this, don’t do that doesn’t work when trying to write. However, it’s very interesting to me because I think not being able to define good writing is a good thing, because when we do define what is and how to produce good writing, so many other good things will be left out. That’s just my two cents anyways.
I also find myself struggling with the evaluation aspect of the composition course as well, and while I do believe that evaluation is essential in promoting “good writing”, it’s the definition of “good writing” that eludes me. How do we evaluate the student’s writing, if we as a field of composition cannot define the terms and necessities that make “good writing?” True, we can outline the ways in which the student should be able to achieve good writing and enforce constant drilling and repetition of writing exercises with the hopes that they’ll produce “good writing”, but if we cannot universally agree and define what “good” is, and what makes certain writing more successful than others, how can the composition course as a whole succeed?
I don’t think we’ll ever reach a point when we’ll be able to list out steps and check boxes that define what good writing is. I think that we’ve achieved pinpointing bad writing and defining what bad writing is, but that still doesn’t help in defining what good writing is. Simply saying don’t do this, don’t do that doesn’t work when trying to write. However, it’s very interesting to me because I think not being able to define good writing is a good thing, because when we do define what is and how to produce good writing, so many other good things will be left out. That’s just my two cents anyways.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Response to Parker’s “Where do English Departments Come From?”
William Riley Parker’s critical 1967 essay examines and critiques the history of the English Department through its earliest incarnations and while he does the examination rather successfully, albeit without any supporting research, he eventually comes to the conclusion that the “modern” study and teaching of English is failing. He begins his tirade stating with a quote from Cicero, “Not to know what happened before one was born is always to be a child,” and he uses this to do several things: first, to start on his history lesson of the English department, and second and more importantly, to critique the current state of English teaching. Ignoring Parker’s silly diatribe on the origins of English from the parents of oratory and linguistics, he begins his history lesson, as I said rather successfully.
He traces the beginnings of English study through the early literature reviews of the 16th century, to the start of the professorships of Rhetoric and Literature at notable British and American universities. However, breaking away from the history lesson to a critique, Parker begins his critique by stating that, “As scholars we have matured; as teachers we-the same people- are still children in our ignorance or innocence, still fumbling and lacking well defined goals,” and while he realizes these are “strong statements” he does not fully understand the failings of them. Parker criticizes the now current English department as we know it as a fumbling child that has forgotten about its history; about its mother and father and from whence it came. He states his feelings clearly by saying, “…it seems to me that English departments have cared much less about liberal education and their own integrity than they have about their administrative power and prosperity,” and while this does hold some merit, it does not hold very much. Parker’s feelings are held in a firmly rooted belief that if we don’t teach from where we came, i.e. oratory and elocution, then we will forever be lost and ignorant in the teaching of English and while I do share the same sentiment I don’t feel that anything has been lost. Parker fails to recognize the changes in teaching and public discourse and instead focus on terms like elocution and oratory and claims that we in the English department are losing sight of the real teaching of English. These are indeed noble pursuits, however I don’t feel that we have lost sight of anything; we’ve merely changed and adapted the teaching of English to the students of today and even though we’ve dropped the titles of elocution and oratory the methods are still the same.
It will be interesting to see where we progress and end up in both our teaching and scholarship of English in the future, however I am confident that rhetoric and linguistics will still play a huge part in the methodology of English. I wonder what Parker's opinions and views on teaching English would be in 20 years from now or even 50? Would he still hold his views that we are slipping away from the true purpose of teaching English? Perhaps there will be a regression to teaching the classics more formally and the use of technology and modern ideas of teaching will be cast aside? I guess we will just have to wait and see.
It will be interesting to see where we progress and end up in both our teaching and scholarship of English in the future, however I am confident that rhetoric and linguistics will still play a huge part in the methodology of English. I wonder what Parker's opinions and views on teaching English would be in 20 years from now or even 50? Would he still hold his views that we are slipping away from the true purpose of teaching English? Perhaps there will be a regression to teaching the classics more formally and the use of technology and modern ideas of teaching will be cast aside? I guess we will just have to wait and see.
Parker, William Riley. "Where Do English Departments Come From?" College English 28.5 (1967): 339-351.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Blog Outline
This blog is to keep track of my reading responses for Dr. Kemp's History and Theory of College Composition course. Each response is to be no less than 200 words, and are due by Friday at midnight each week.
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