Conferencing...

"Composition is a subject best discussed in quiet rooms" (In honor of tonight's debate)

I feel depressed after reading the Learner article, which could be summarized as such: For over 100 years, educators have acknowledged the crucial role of individualized instruction, yet have continually failed to arrive upon an effective method of implementation. I see no solutions on the horizon either. I imagine Learner, whose article was published prior to the 2008 economic collapse and the ensuing austerity measures, would only conclude with greater pessimism if his analysis was extended to the present; after all, this "has always been a case of too many students, too little time, too much writing, too few dollars." As humanities departments continue to be starved, the current unsustainable trajectory seems to be more students, less time (for instructors), and less dollars.

To me, any attempt to foster improved instructor-student relations in freshman composition classes is futile within the corporatized university. The lack of satisfying individual instruction is obviously a symptom of a problem far beyond the agency of english graduate teaching instructors, who, facing a job market that is both squeezed dry and stuck in the glory days mentality of research>teaching ability, must focus on their own work.

A separate issue: how much would it even benefit a student to regularly conference with a rookie teacher, completely inexperienced in the world of rhet/comp? In the semester that my students are supposed to be learning how to write, their guide is a do-it-yourself etext and an "instructor" that doesn't know what material is going to be covered in class more than a week in advance. Would they really improve drastically as writers if they spent more time with me? The individual contact I have had with my students has filled me with guilt: "am I giving them bad advice?" We did get five days of orientation, so we know what we're doing I guess (I kid). I shouldn't be so cynical as the individual instruction I have given my students so far has gone pretty well. I've just felt like I don't have the authority to be giving the advice I am giving, and I fear that they are taking the words of an amateur as gospel. 

Something else that interested me in the article was the resistance over the years to science and technology. Learner touches on the reliance on computerized work, and also, in response to Glicksberg's quotes, states: "The chilling, soulless world of the scientist needed to be countered by the humanistic methods of the English teacher and, specifically, through the understanding of students as individuals." I wonder how much room there is for individualism and humanism in a prefabricated e-class that strongly discourages the use of any literature. I say this as a student who switched his major from Business to English after reading literature in my freshman composition class in undergrad. It was refreshing to read the words of Charles Glickensberg in response to the encroachment of the sciences on the humanities:

"The scientific Huns are on the march, and their objective is not only the elimination of English composition from the curriculum. If they had their way, they would sack the buildings in which the liberal arts are taught, raze them to the ground, and pour salt on the foundation. The new scientific barbarians, now that they have produced the atomic bomb, are determined to capture the citadel of education, adapt it to their own special ends, and establish a dictatorship of the physicists and technocrats."

About Conferencing...

(instead of a megaphone substitute chalk)

I have to admit that I feel both relieved and unsure about my own teaching practices after having read Neal Lerner’s article on conferencing. This is largely owing to my assumption that all of my teachers/professors have a rationale for setting up their classes and conferences the way they have but Lerner’s essay reveals to me that these rationales are based more on working with limited resources than what is in the best interest for the student. This balancing act in turn effects our own perceptions of what teaching is as opposed to what we wish it could be.
    Personally, as a new T.A. the words of George Herbert Locke resonated with me; this idea that we long to offer students “direct, personal, and often intimate intercourse with professors (or T.A.’s) of maturity and human sympathy”. I won’t speak for everyone but I know that I have always wanted to set up my course in such a way that I can become acquainted with each individual student, determine their proficiency level, and proceed to tailor instruction to meet their needs, all while maintaining a personal and respectful relationships. In other words, I fancied myself as heir to the role of Mr. Feeney (minus the creepy living next to my students and following them through life part). This of course presupposes an abundance of resources, the most important of which is time. As a T.A. I have 18 students, which may not sound like much, but getting to know them personally as well as where their proficiency levels are at in order to tailor instruction can be daunting, if not altogether impossible. Not to mention that I also have my own course work to attend to and (GASP!) a social life to maintain.
    The article points to multiple “tension points” in American universities with regards to enrollment and the subsequent strategies (conferencing, writing lab/workshop, peer tutoring, etc.) that emerged to deal with the “hordes who come from high schools…lacking the background of cultured homes and the tradition of good English speech”, as Burges Johnson and Helene Hartley so eloquently observe. In general I agree with Johnson and Hartley in that it appears as though students are coming to college with lower writing proficiencies (I won’t label them as culture deficient hordes though) and that it seems unfair/unrealistic that the responsibility of bringing their writing skills up to par should fall solely on the shoulders of an instructor that will usually only have them for one semester. How much can be achieved in one semester? To this I would say, “As little or as much as the student wants”. With all of the aforementioned strategies/tools available it seems to me perfectly possible that a student could significantly improve their skills. If students could only analyze what their own shortcomings were regarding writing and seek to improve them we instructors could go about helping them succeed. In this way conferences would be very beneficial; even if students did not have the vocabulary to voice their issues in a one on one conference these issues can be overcome, but of course all of this is predicated on student effort. Unfortunately, rhetoric courses are not on the top of the interest list for most of our student body who would rather focus on their science courses. Bearing all of this in mind I think am most in agreement with Donald Murray in that “his teaching role is even less active and much more a mirror for students to see their intent, their needs, their problems.” At the very least after having read this article I don't feel bad about not being able to hold 18 hands at the same time.

Lerner, Neal. "The Teacher-Student Writing Conference and the Desire for Imtimacy." College English 68.2 (2005): 186-208. Web

I'm glad I had to take four English courses...

This is partly in response to the Downs/Wardle article and partly personal reflection so bear with me. At my tiny liberal arts college, Oklahoma Baptist University, students were required to take four English courses, including the basic Comp I and Comp II and two additional literature courses which examine some major literary works within historical, social, and political contexts. Complaining about these requirements abounds from students (as a student worker for one of the instructors of these courses, I saw my fair share of disgruntled business major responses). Also, I became aware of some tension between a few of the professors in the School of Business and the science division of the School of Arts and Sciences and the English and History department professors. Some had the idea that the Western Civilization classes (the third and fourth English requirements) were something of academic missionaries, converting students in, for instance, computer science into English majors.

Case in point, me. I began as a computer science major. I was a stubborn one, remaining in the program for two years. It took everything the English Department had to lure me into its clutches: I converted, I mean, changed majors after taking the fourth and final required English class. The classes made me realize there was some value in English studies. Some. Just a little. I realized that if I continued to work in computer science the rest of my life, even while making money (...a lot of money...), I might be miserable. While I am not going to complain about coming late to the major and really having to rush to complete my work within four years, after reading the Downs/Wardle article, I feel that if I had taken a Writing-Studies oriented FYC class, I think I would have realized sooner the value in studying English. I lied. I'm complaining.

On a smaller scale, this kind of a structure (and I am now more conscious of the differences between UIUC's program [which I feel, contains some of these techniques in the Downs/Wardle article] and my own college's), young writers at least become more familiar with their own writing: not only their strengths and weaknesses, but also their self-confidence. I may sound like a complete sap but the stories concerning "Jack," about how, in his own words, "I really started to think for myself" (567), and another student, "you made me feel like my opinion mattered" (573) it brought tears to my eyes a bit. Yes. It did. I thank you for your pity. But that's what I think RHET 105 or really, any other comp class should be about: about thinking not just writing.

But that's easy. It's obvious, really. How do we get there as incredibly inexperienced instructors? I think perhaps the key lies in a comment near the end of the article: "the course has the added benefit of educating first-year students, adjuncts, and graduate students about the existence and content of the writing studies field" (578). Maybe it sounds elementary, but the class is a learning experience for both students and teachers (certainly for this teacher), as much as it is an exercise on improvisation and adaptability. This is not what my students learned in high school and this is not exactly what I learned in my college classes --and I think it may be beneficial to communicate this two-way learning experience.

Context

A couple of weeks ago, I was loading up my links for the class and stopped by The New York Times for one last news update before class, and I saw this nifty little thing about words that were used at the Democratic and Republican National Conventions. Anyways, I thought, "Cool! I'll show this to my students because it deals with words and something like rhetoric!" When I started introducing it, I asked, "How many people watched the Democratic National Convention," which elicited no response since it was 8am. "How many of you follow politics?" (no response) "How many of you are over 18?" (all of them raise their hands) Imagine my shock. It might look something like this:

So after finishing the Noticing and Observing Essay, I decided to wage a war to make my students more aware of the world around them beyond the university setting, and maybe eventually I can push this into a way of engaging a conversation about politics. I know I only care about this because I'm appalled that the students area more engaged in the presidential election, but I can't just let it go. For homework, I asked them to pick a newspaper article from a reputable online newspaper, summarize it, identify the intended audience, and try to figure out the larger conversation it engages.

For a while, I was concerned about how I would make this connect to the course as a whole, but after a while, I'm starting to figure out that it's working somewhat. The newspaper articles led to a discussion of what primary sources go into a news article--interviews, statistics, first hand observations by the reporters--and how the articles fit into a larger conversation. Going over the homework assignments, I wasn't really sure all of the students got it, but some of them definitely did while discussing articles on issues that were important to them whether it was the Chicago teacher's strike,  studies on smoking, or island disputes between China and Japan. I'll admit that some students picked articles that might to appeal to a teacher, but some of them really brought their own interests.

Reading the Down and Wardle "Teaching about Writing, Righting Misconceptions: (Re)Envisioning "First-Year Composition" as "Introduction to Writing Studies", made me feel a little bit better about my self-serving project to get my students to become engaged with the world and spending precious time talking about Libya, the Arab Spring, and the implications of the attacks on the U.S. embassy with regard to the presidential election and future involvement in the Middle East. The student reflections quoted in "Teaching about Writing" that made me feel all warm and fuzzy included, "...I never before realized that every written text is part of an ongoing conversation..." (569) and "...I have learned that research is joining an ongoing conversation" (573).

I'm not at the point where I can tackle everything and I certainly don't feel I'm the best person to stand at the front of the room to talk about writing studies. Some of the ideas posed by in the Down and Wardle article might not work so well for a class of freshmen. For example, I'm not convinced that giving students readings on writing studies is going to help them analyze their own writing when they've never done a research project and they might never do a research project described in the reading (561). I'm also not convinced that reading an article about rhetorical reading strategies is going to be helpful because they might never have to use those skills (561). Although discussing reading strategies could be helpful, I'm not sure it's the best way to teach it. What some scholars consider efficient and effective might not work for every student, and even though I have brought up close readings with my students, it might be better if they just figured it out what is most efficient for themselves.

I don't entirely buy that engaging specifically in writing studies is going to help students see a context for their work or what they're interested. Does the conversation they engage in always have to be scholarly? By including hashtags on their tweets, they're already engaging in a larger conversation whether its about an episode of Project Runway or Muslim rage.

source: Huffington Post. I know my blog posts make me look like I know things about Twitter but I don't.

At a minimum, I see the value in context because it can be applied to any field. What is the context for this experiment? What conversation does this article engage? This one study relates to what other studies and what other questions in the field? I'm not sure news articles are the best way to go about it, but I'm seeing some promising stuff. It might not be related directly to Writing Studies, but I think it's more important to place ideas and writings in context to student's lives and in what they're interested. Maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll even start thinking about the election.

What Would Writing Intensive Studies Look Like?

They just need something to chew on...

In “Teaching about Writing, Righting Misconceptions: (Re)Envisioning ‘First-Year Composition’ as ‘Introduction to Writing Studies’”, Downs and Wardle assess many of the pitfalls of traditional mandatory freshmen writing courses. These classes often fail to prepare students for college-writing across a variety of disciples because they emphasize mechanical skills, separate writing from context, and assume the existence of a unified academic discourse that does not exist in practice.  Downs and Wardle rightly suggest that this model needs to be rethought and they propose transitioning to an ‘Intro to Writing Studies’ class in which students study the writing process (their own and others), thinking reflexively about it as they begin to draft college-level writing.

 While I think an ‘Intro to Writing Studies’ course would be highly beneficial and appealing for many students (particularly those who are already interested in and enjoy writing), I’m not sure that such a class will be any more universally helpful than the current model. I imagine that many eighteen-year-olds would be bored and put-off by the thought of a course that asked them to read about and study writing (even, maybe especially, their own). Such a course might be the academic equivalent of enrolling people who hate exercise in a 5:00 AM boot-camp—you might change some of their habits, but you risk alienating them further before you’ve even started. If you really wanted to help these individuals maintain active lifestyles, it might be better to encourage and support them in the pursuit a specific activity (swimming, biking, etc.) that they already enjoy.  Similarly, I think writing-intensive classes across a variety of disciplines should provide opportunities and support for students to dig into their own interests, enter an intellectual conversation about them, and engage in written work. This requires a course that asks them to focus on sustained writing projects and to think reflexively about those projects, but it need not be a ‘writing’ or an ‘English’ class. For instance, my younger brother might be described as a ‘reluctant writer’, but, when he was given the opportunity to choose to write a paper on prohibition and the history of drinking, he became an engaged and thoughtful reader.  He developed ideas that he wanted to share and became invested in the process of organizing, writing, and revising those ideas. He grew as a writer and as a problem-solver, developing mental persistence and a put-all-the-details-on-the-page-and-see-what-they-say attitude that have been useful to him in chemistry and engineering. (Side note: while I agree that self-reflexivity is crucial to skill transfer, I was otherwise fairly disappointed by Downs and Wardle’s approach to skill transfer. Certainly, we should strive to help students write across contexts, but I would argue for more nuanced and holistic thinking about education and experience. I’m convinced that I learned many of my “writing skills” through calculus, yoga, baking, and kayaking. And that engaged writing helps students develop a wide variety of other skills, some of which may not involve written words at all. Because the brain is a mysterious place.)  This happened in a U.S. history class that was writing intensive—and provided structure and guidance for student writers—but not explicitly about writing. Perhaps, in the long run, it might be more helpful to integrate supported opportunities for writing (and reflexivity about writing) into a wider variety of classes so that students can learn to create and reflect on the kind of writing they need to produce within their own academic contexts.

Comp Wars

This article about Queensborough Community College provides a glimpse into the kinds of battles that go on over the first-year composition course.

The Apparatus

(image found over @ thedisorderofthings.com)