Social Class Reproduction
Four Rules for Teaching Writing:
Always give writing assignments that
1. you will enjoy reading;
2. students will enjoy writing;
3. students will enjoy reading what others in the class have written
4. you will enjoy writing.
If any one of these conditions were not true, then it probably wasn't a very good assignment.
Advice I give to my students: When your words surprise you, you know you are writing.
Always give writing assignments that
1. you will enjoy reading;
2. students will enjoy writing;
3. students will enjoy reading what others in the class have written
4. you will enjoy writing.
If any one of these conditions were not true, then it probably wasn't a very good assignment.
Advice I give to my students: When your words surprise you, you know you are writing.
Friday, March 27, 2015
Interspecies Love
This entry is about as personal as an entry can get. My dog, Ali, died today. He had cancer. I loved him more than anything. I have marveled at inter-species love. Actually, I marvel at love. I would have climbed up on the cross for Ali. I can't sleep tonight, because all I can do is think of kissing him good-bye and telling him I loved him.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
DeCentering Writing Studies
I have finished taking notes on Laura Micciche’s Doing Emotion. Her book was well worth
my reading. I appreciated most of what she wrote. And in those places
where I had to acknowledge different universes, she brought up points for
discussion.
Her important point to me involves the materiality of
emotion: that we see emotion and we read emotion in texts—again,
understanding texts as only superficially static. When we read emotions in
texts, we are obviously reading ourselves, our histories, out cultures, our
relationships with others, our friends we have loved, those who have died,
those who have faded from our lives but left in our minds their traces.
Micciche makes a convincing argument to the necessity of
paying attention to the materiality of emotion through language. Her larger
point contests the debilitating dichotomy between emotion and reason—as if they
could ever be separated by a theoretical centrifuge.
I believe with Micciche that when students are emotionally
invested in whatever they write, they will write better than when defending
some kind of canned topic. Not only will they write better, they will learn
more about writing by having been engaged in the writing act.
Although Micciche links Marx’s theory of alienated labor to her
overly-labored argument positioning composition and writing program
administration as subjugated and feminized, I might turn it against what I have
previously called performative, fake, or school writing—when we ask students to
write essays demonstrating their competence or knowledge in order to achieve an
external reward—a grade (see Daniel Pink’s TED talk on extrinsic vs intrinsic
rewards). Reframed, we can see this kind of writing as alienated labor, labor
that is “external to the worker, i.e., it does not belong to his essential
being; that in his work, therefore, he does not affirm himself but denies
himself . . . mortifies his body and ruins his mind.” This frame of
school-writing might help to explain the marked difference between the kind of
writing we get when we ask for honest or bogus information.
I appreciate the general thrust of Micciche’s argument, but
I have to wonder about the space between what she and I see or whether one or
both of us are blind. I wrote in a previous post that I have never “felt” the
subjugation of writing studies or writing program administration—and I have
often wondered about the disenfranchised claims—which Micciche extensively documents. I don’t have space to disentangle our differences here. I have
always felt respected within the academic environment—and I think many of
my WPA friends have felt the same. I think some of this difference
might be located in social class relationships—I don’t know. I do know that as
a Writing Program Administrator, as a Professor, I have occupied an incredibly
privileged social position. And I know that as a WPA, one of my dominant
projects is to abdicate disenfranchised academic labor. There is absolutely no logic that supports
requiring writing courses taught by part-time teachers (other than the logic of
profit).
Micciche argues extensively that Writing Studies suffers
from its link to materialism, caring, affect. I think as a field we may have
overly disenfranchised ourselves. I have seen a long history of rhetoric and
composition scholars (note the way in which we have linked composition to
“rhetoric”) attempting to argue for the centrality of our field. To me, these
arguments have seemed silly. I think it’s equally important for citizens to be
able to name in distant order the planets in our solar system as to be able to
define ethos, logos, and pathos. I think as scholars we need to pay some
attention to how our arguments make ourselves the center of the intellectual
universe. I love to write. If I can pass
that on, that seems good enough. I’m not certain that this love should be
required.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Writing Program Administration and Labor
I should be doing other work, but I have continued to struggle through Micciche's Doing Emotion this morning. The reading struggle has changed as I have moved through the chapters. In the early chapters, I resisted her theoretical language. I felt as if she were reproducing high-fives in the field. Micciche notes elsewhere Peter Herman's complaint that scholars in the field have reduced themselves in the tenure game to re-saying currently popular saids. I doubt that this trend is new. It might simply be an unannounced tradition of scholarship, mimicking a cultural phenomenon of resaying what's au courant. And who can blame? We all want to be known (see my previous post on numbers).
Here's how my reading struggle has changed. I strenuously resisted the theoretical language in her first chapters, although I value, in my current emotional struggle with my dog's cancer, much of what she claims. We might even be "on the same page" (please forgive me). In her later chapters, the overly nominalized, abstract phrasing merged into straight language. But her message shifted from theorizing the ontology of emotion to a kind of rant (the kind to which I am prone). I think she has inherited this rant. I am materializing it here because I think the rant disables effective writing program administration and productive theorizing and scholarship in our field (loosely, the field of Writing Studies).
The first one involves the derogation of writing program administration. I have been a WPA in three institutions, beginning in 1990. I admit I am male--and my gender distorts my perception, but I have never felt marginalized in my work. In the three universities in which I have worked, I have always felt respected, my work and responsibilities certainly equal to a literary scholar's responsibility to acquaint students with Milton. Our responsibility is to help students with their writing, to make writing, like reading, a part of their personal, professional, and civic lives. I can't think of a more important responsibility.
As Writing Program Administrators, we are embedded within a historical labeling of our work as grunt as opposed to the etherealized labor of our literary brothers and sisters, but this imbrication doesn't mean we have to buy it. We can engage in the conversation, not be submerged by it. I have always been proud of my role in helping students make writing a part of their lives. I couldn't have wanted anything else. I also know many colleagues who have felt this sense of mission: of our desire to bring the magic of writing into our students lives. Most readers of this blog will know the names--the people who have thought of writing as pleasure, discovery, communication. NOT argument.
We have been embedded within an historically institutionalized structure that has profited from the "Johnny Can't Write" mythology. We require first-year writing and institutionalize adjunct labor as teaching faculty, paying low wages and no benefits. The hypocrisy is hardly obscure. I estimate that at my present institution, charging upwards of $50,000 a year per student, that we make about $40,000 a year per course by requiring this First-Year Writing courses. We try to imagine that our writing program is something no well-educated student could do without, but a little bit of self-referentially critique might seriously undermine that claim (that we spend hours teaching them about logos, ethos, and pathos and the logical fallacies? Please).
Let me get to the quick: WPAs don't need to apologize for the work they are doing (unless they are fetishizing argument). We can be doing good work. We certainly don't need to be whining about our own positions (or at least those of us who are tenured--actually, I'm in a non-tenured position right now). Our real problem is labor practices. We can certainly unite behind one clear objective somewhat based on logic: if what we are teaching is important, we need to have full-time teachers teaching what we pretend is important. Let's call this a mission. And let's stop complaining about our own positions (the thrust of Micchiche's later chapters); Either we require first-year writing courses and then engage in responsible hiring practices; or let's forget it.
I didn't get to the second rant.
Here's how my reading struggle has changed. I strenuously resisted the theoretical language in her first chapters, although I value, in my current emotional struggle with my dog's cancer, much of what she claims. We might even be "on the same page" (please forgive me). In her later chapters, the overly nominalized, abstract phrasing merged into straight language. But her message shifted from theorizing the ontology of emotion to a kind of rant (the kind to which I am prone). I think she has inherited this rant. I am materializing it here because I think the rant disables effective writing program administration and productive theorizing and scholarship in our field (loosely, the field of Writing Studies).
The first one involves the derogation of writing program administration. I have been a WPA in three institutions, beginning in 1990. I admit I am male--and my gender distorts my perception, but I have never felt marginalized in my work. In the three universities in which I have worked, I have always felt respected, my work and responsibilities certainly equal to a literary scholar's responsibility to acquaint students with Milton. Our responsibility is to help students with their writing, to make writing, like reading, a part of their personal, professional, and civic lives. I can't think of a more important responsibility.
As Writing Program Administrators, we are embedded within a historical labeling of our work as grunt as opposed to the etherealized labor of our literary brothers and sisters, but this imbrication doesn't mean we have to buy it. We can engage in the conversation, not be submerged by it. I have always been proud of my role in helping students make writing a part of their lives. I couldn't have wanted anything else. I also know many colleagues who have felt this sense of mission: of our desire to bring the magic of writing into our students lives. Most readers of this blog will know the names--the people who have thought of writing as pleasure, discovery, communication. NOT argument.
We have been embedded within an historically institutionalized structure that has profited from the "Johnny Can't Write" mythology. We require first-year writing and institutionalize adjunct labor as teaching faculty, paying low wages and no benefits. The hypocrisy is hardly obscure. I estimate that at my present institution, charging upwards of $50,000 a year per student, that we make about $40,000 a year per course by requiring this First-Year Writing courses. We try to imagine that our writing program is something no well-educated student could do without, but a little bit of self-referentially critique might seriously undermine that claim (that we spend hours teaching them about logos, ethos, and pathos and the logical fallacies? Please).
Let me get to the quick: WPAs don't need to apologize for the work they are doing (unless they are fetishizing argument). We can be doing good work. We certainly don't need to be whining about our own positions (or at least those of us who are tenured--actually, I'm in a non-tenured position right now). Our real problem is labor practices. We can certainly unite behind one clear objective somewhat based on logic: if what we are teaching is important, we need to have full-time teachers teaching what we pretend is important. Let's call this a mission. And let's stop complaining about our own positions (the thrust of Micchiche's later chapters); Either we require first-year writing courses and then engage in responsible hiring practices; or let's forget it.
I didn't get to the second rant.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
On the Possibility of Losing a Dog
I have to admit: I have become addicted to numbers. I write somewhat regularly on this blog because I like seeing the numbers of people who read it. In many ways, this numerical feedback is more important to me than feedback I get from having articles or books published. I know that this admission undercuts my almost unrelenting attack on the grading phenomenon--that my addiction to the number of readers is only a minimally disguised addiction to grades.
I could reflect and even undercut that admission, but I don't want to go there this morning--I want to go to a different place, the more serious reward for writing, the reward of having explained what was only half-thought in my head. I had a bad night last night--I found out that my dog very likely has cancer (he's being tested further today to determine what kind). So during the many times I was awake, I thought of all I wanted to write on this blog--one of my ways of not thinking about what I don't want to think about. If I wrote down everything I thought, you would still be reading this tomorrow.
I'm going to try to stay with two topics: "embodied" writing and maybe get back to grading student writing. I've been struggling through Laura Micciche's Doing Emotion lately. Much of what she writes seems important to me--particularly in these days when I'm dealing with Ali's cancer.
There was quite a bit in her book that I would challenge as a model of effective writing instruction (a bit too much time on having her students perform rather than write and respond to each other), but I think the gist of her treatment is both subtle and important. Writing, reading, and emotion--they are linked actions with the illusion of stasis--it is perhaps that (textual) illusion that allows one to "grade" or freeze a text. Micciche took a few chapters to make her point and I'm having a difficult time reducing it to my own meaning--but it is what I feel. This feeling, this emotion of writing is what draws me forward, draws the words out of me. In his recent article on James Britton, Russel Durst describes Britton et al.'s belief that expressivity (there, I did it) is the matrix of all writing. Writing springs from the urge to "say," which is perhaps the obverse side of being "said" (Freire would say, being a speaking subject rather than a said object).
I have used writing to write my way out of my wife's early death. I use writing to write my way out of bad situations and into ways of imagining new ones. Writing for me is a way of becoming. A little later, it might turn into numbers. Ok: I like the numbers. But really, I like writing what I have half/thought/felt. Micchiche has something right, although I think in order to get published, she overly intellectualizes a simple truth about writing: writing and feeling are inextricably linked (even in the pretense of the writer not-feeling) and dynamic. I could write here about what I feel about the possibility of Ali dying as other dogs and people have died, but something blocks me--I think, too much emotion.
I could reflect and even undercut that admission, but I don't want to go there this morning--I want to go to a different place, the more serious reward for writing, the reward of having explained what was only half-thought in my head. I had a bad night last night--I found out that my dog very likely has cancer (he's being tested further today to determine what kind). So during the many times I was awake, I thought of all I wanted to write on this blog--one of my ways of not thinking about what I don't want to think about. If I wrote down everything I thought, you would still be reading this tomorrow.
I'm going to try to stay with two topics: "embodied" writing and maybe get back to grading student writing. I've been struggling through Laura Micciche's Doing Emotion lately. Much of what she writes seems important to me--particularly in these days when I'm dealing with Ali's cancer.
There was quite a bit in her book that I would challenge as a model of effective writing instruction (a bit too much time on having her students perform rather than write and respond to each other), but I think the gist of her treatment is both subtle and important. Writing, reading, and emotion--they are linked actions with the illusion of stasis--it is perhaps that (textual) illusion that allows one to "grade" or freeze a text. Micciche took a few chapters to make her point and I'm having a difficult time reducing it to my own meaning--but it is what I feel. This feeling, this emotion of writing is what draws me forward, draws the words out of me. In his recent article on James Britton, Russel Durst describes Britton et al.'s belief that expressivity (there, I did it) is the matrix of all writing. Writing springs from the urge to "say," which is perhaps the obverse side of being "said" (Freire would say, being a speaking subject rather than a said object).
I have used writing to write my way out of my wife's early death. I use writing to write my way out of bad situations and into ways of imagining new ones. Writing for me is a way of becoming. A little later, it might turn into numbers. Ok: I like the numbers. But really, I like writing what I have half/thought/felt. Micchiche has something right, although I think in order to get published, she overly intellectualizes a simple truth about writing: writing and feeling are inextricably linked (even in the pretense of the writer not-feeling) and dynamic. I could write here about what I feel about the possibility of Ali dying as other dogs and people have died, but something blocks me--I think, too much emotion.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Almost Circumventing the Grading Factory
Readers of this blog might know that I work a lot with assessment, a not unsurprising interest, given that Charles Cooper was my dissertation director at the University of California, San Diego. I have also been using portfolios as an alternative grading practice virtually throughout my careers as a high school and post-secondary writing teacher. Since a good many of my rants on this blog challenge the efficacy of using grades as motivators and sorting tools (and that our job is to sort), I thought I would describe how I use portfolios to determine grades rather than averaging the grades assigned to essays, tests, and other assignments.
I have had conversations/discussions/arguments with writing teachers who point out that by assigning any grade, regardless of my grade distribution (unless I assign everyone an A [or F]), I am still a toady of the capitalist enterprise that trains students to worship dollars through the agency of grades, an accusation to which I yield. Yes, I still assign grades. Yes, I am still a toady. Still, I work hard to help my students with their writing--and that's not only my job, it's my reason for being.
I use portfolios in an admittedly odd way. I have paid attention to Peter Elbow, Pat Belanoff, Kathy Yancey, Ed White (a co-author with Norbert Elliot of what we hope will soon become a famous book :), plug: Very Like a Whale); nevertheless, I have my own way of using portfolios--note that I use them for classroom assessment, not program assessment--the subject of our book.
I assign grades on the basis of participation--which includes attendance (50%), mid-term portfolio (20%), and final portfolio (30%). I also tell students that if they want to know what their grades are at any time, they can see me in my office and we'll go over their work (and attendance) and discuss their grades. I'm also quite comfortable with being known as an easy grader--but I do expect them to always be in class and do all the work--and I would like to see them take some pride in what they write. It should perhaps go without saying that because I don't put grades on students' essays and other work, that doesn't mean I don't read and respond to their work--just as I like to have them read and respond to each other's work. I of course do. This in fact is something I enjoy doing (for reasons I have hammered in many of my blog posts).
Some of my colleagues referred to above have asked how students know how well they've written if I don't grade the essays (but only respond to them). I'll just leave this remark to stand (or fall) on its own.
Soooo. At the risk of looking like a fool, I have included below my instructions for a final portfolio. The students use an electronic portfolio (iWebfolio) to submit their work. It may look as if I'm asking the students to do a lot of work, but they have already submitted a mid-term portfolio, on which they build. Each section below corresponds to a category in iWebfolio. The e-portfolios are very easy for me to review and respond to (in fact, I enjoy doing it because by reading what my students write, I learn quite a bit about what I/we did right and what I/we did wrong). It takes me about 30 minutes to read and respond to each e-portfolio.
WPAs interested in program assessment will see that if I have all of the teachers in our program include in their students e-portfolios at least two categories (Myself as a Writer and Goals of the Course) that we can structure a robust program assessment in which a positive attitude toward writing is an important objective.
I actually give the instructions below in a wiki that resembles the portfolio I want them to construct. But for the purposes of this blog, I have reproduced the instructions as a page. I hope you find this interesting.
======================
===============================================
Introduction:
Imagine that you are me and that at some point, some well-intentioned
administrator might wonder about my grading practices. I would like to be able
to give her for each student a fair example of the student's work and the
student's reflection on what he or she has so far learned in the course, given our
objectives. So imagine that your portfolio is that evidence of the grade that I
would like to argue for in response to this well-intentioned administrator.
Introduction
Introduction
In
your Introduction, you should introduce your portfolio. Imagine an
administrator other than me is going to read it (which in some cases, will be
true). This would be a good place to tell her (my dean) just a little bit
about you, something about your major, your hopes for the kind of career
that college might help you prepare for, and some statement about how you have
created this portfolio to demonstrate the kind of work you have done and what
you have so far learned about writing in this class.
Keep
those goals in mind as you explain what you have done and learned in this
class. To organize your response, I have created some categories with specific
instructions. Please look at the pages to the right, beginning with
"Attendance."
Attendance
Just
include some note about your attendance both for the face-to-face and online
sessions. You'll probably be able to amend what you wrote in your mid-quarter
evaluation. Most of you have been here every day and participated in all online
sessions. I am going to add my own perspective: success often depends on being
there. In this course, I emphasized community: we show up, you show up.
Yourself as a Writer
What
did you think of yourself as a writer when you came into the class? What
do you think of yourself as a writer now--and your relationship to writing? I
know that the move from our largely personal writing (like our inventory of our
writing experiences) to the 4th academic essay on education and identity
formation may have introduced some difficulties in your relationship with writing.
You might want to include in this discussion some reflection on the kinds of
writing you/we like to do and the kinds we sometimes have to perform in our
academic and professional environments.
Class Journals
Just
give me a little advice on class journals. They are the way I keep in touch
with you.
Compendium
After you have followed
the directions for collecting all that you have written, come back up to the
top of this page and tell your readers what you think about the writing you
have done in here.
I would like to have
this reflection be at the top of the compendium :).
First collect your initial post to one of the writing tasks, and underneath that, all the posts you made in response to what others had written.
Note: Here’s the easy
way to collect your response on any forum:
Go to the Forum and
click on the top box on the left (Thread Actions/Date)
That should put a check mark on all threads.
Click on “Collect” (to the right of “Thread Actions”)
Then Sort by “Author’s Last Name.” All your responses will be grouped.
That should put a check mark on all threads.
Click on “Collect” (to the right of “Thread Actions”)
Then Sort by “Author’s Last Name.” All your responses will be grouped.
Repeat that for each of
the writing tasks we did.
It should look something
like this:
Post for:
Inventory of Writing Experiences
Responses to
others:
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
......(that means and so
on)
Post for:
Subjective School Experiences
Responses to
others:
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
...
Post for: Responses to "Correctness"
Post for: Responses to "Correctness"
Responses to
others:
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Post for: Responses to Anyon
Post for: Responses to Anyon
Responses to
others:
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Post for: Responses to Tate
Post for: Responses to Tate
Responses to others:
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Post for:
Inventory of Research Experiences
No Responses
No Responses
Post for: Third Essay on
Educational Experiences
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Post for: Writing our
3rd essay on Education and Identity Formation
No responses
Post for: Reading and
Being Read—3rd Essay
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Post for Next Essay
Topic: Outline
No responses
Post for 4th
Essay
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Post for: Writing the 4th
Essay (We didn’t have time for responses here, but a few of you responded to
each other).
Response 1
Response 2
Response 3
Response 4
....
Ok: I think I pretty much have all the major work we did in
here. Email me if there’s something I missed.
Notes You Have Taken
In this section, paste any notes you
have taken from others and that you have gleaned from your research on the
Internet--important notes about the relationship between our educational
experiences and who we are, what we think of ourselves, our relationship to
learning, and perhaps to our society. I will be interested in which excerpts
you thought were important.
Analysis of Writing
Please
post a paragraph or two of
- What you wrote in response to Subjective School Experiences
- 4th Essay
Then give me about 30 minutes in which
you think and write about the similarities and differences here regarding you
as a writer (as you are revealed in these different kinds of writing
tasks). You might consider differences/similarities in your voice, your
attitude toward the writing task, your attitudes toward who your readers might
be, whether it’s fake or real writing. I’m very interested in your analysis
here of who you are as a writer and how you met these different writing tasks.
Favorite Thing You Have
Written in Here
In
this section, just post the favorite thing you have written in our class--This
could be one of the essays, a response you have written to other, to one of our
readings, an inventory--anything. And tell us why you picked this one.
Goals of the Course
1. To investigate
research—and the theory of research
2. To improve our clarity and fluency—fluency in the sense of writing easily and the flow of writing
3. To improve style, grammar, and punctuation
4. To improve our integration and evaluation of information
5. To explore the links between rhetorical situation and when claims need to be supported by evidence, and warrants
6. To explore the connection between writing and audience
7. To encourage a positive attitude toward writing
2. To improve our clarity and fluency—fluency in the sense of writing easily and the flow of writing
3. To improve style, grammar, and punctuation
4. To improve our integration and evaluation of information
5. To explore the links between rhetorical situation and when claims need to be supported by evidence, and warrants
6. To explore the connection between writing and audience
7. To encourage a positive attitude toward writing
I realize that we have
explored some of these goals more deeply than others (and some explorations
have been tacit, some overt). But tell me what you may have learned about each
of these goals--and how well we succeeded as a class in exploring them.
Note: by
"rhetorical situation," we generally mean the writing situation: the
demand for writing (why is this thing being written in the first place?), the
writer's relationship to the subject, the reader's relationship to the subject,
the writer's relationship to the reader(s), the reader(s) relationship to the
writer--things like that.
Regarding 5: The
relationship between claims and evidence are probably obvious. I know we
haven't covered "warrants." They refer to the logic that ties
evidence to claims--why is this evidence for the claim? You might claim that
the sun goes around the earth (claim). As evidence, you could cite that's what
I see everyday. Your warrant would be, because I see a phenomenon, that's
what it is. (You are of course leaving out knowledge of limited
perspective, the position from which you "see" something, relegating
you to the category of "flatlander.")
Similarly, as I have
noted: You could claim that the United States is the best country to live
in. Your evidence is that everyone you know says that. Your warrant is
that if everyone you know says something, then it is true--relegating you again
to the category of flatlander.
Saturday, March 7, 2015
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