Sunday, May 11, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Responding to Student Writing
I happen to be writing a paper over this topic this semester, and I'll be writing a thesis over it in the fall. I've done quite a bit of research for my paper and my thesis proposal, which I decided to share on this blog since the topic came up in 603 today. Below is a summary of the more important articles on responding to student papers (the paper I'm currently working on is in APA style, so forgive the formatting).
In “Responding to Student Writing,” (1982) Nancy Sommers discovered that “teachers’ comments can take students’ attention away from their own purposes in writing a particular text and focus that attention on the teachers’ purposes in commenting” (Sommers, p. 149) (original emphasis). In other words, teachers appropriate their students’ texts by directing students to focus on areas that the teacher — rather than the student — deems important. Sommers says this appropriation occurs most frequently when teachers comment extensively on grammar, word choice, and style in the first draft, which gives students an exaggerated idea of theses elements’ importance. She advocates a “scale of concerns” that weights comments on organization and logic more than comments on spelling and grammar (p. 151).
Most disastrously, teachers’ comments often give contradictory messages. Sommers provides a facsimile of a student paragraph in which the instructor has written “wordy” above multiple sentences and “This paragraph needs to be expanded” in the margin (p. 150). Such unclear contradiction could be a cause or a symptom of Sommers’s next finding, “that most teachers’ comments are not text-specific and could be interchanged, rubber-stamped, from text to text” (p. 152)(original emphasis). The students Sommers, Brannon, and Knoblauch interviewed all admitted great difficulty with interpreting their teachers’ vague directives. Rather than helping the students, comments such as “choose precise language” or “think more about your audience” transformed revising into “a guessing game” (Sommers, p. 153).
Vivian Zamel’s 1985 study of 15 ESL teachers' comments, “Responding to Student Writing,” asserts that “teachers respond to most writing as if it were a final draft, thus reinforcing an extremely constricted notion of composing” and “teachers’ marks and comments usually take the form of abstract and vague prescriptions and directives that students find difficult to interpret.” She adds, “Rarely was a question asked or a suggestion made that gave students real direction” (p. 92). When such comments did appear, however, it indicated that the instructor expected substantial revision rather than mere surface-level correctness.
Zamel concludes that vague commentary and abstractions should be replaced with “text-specific strategies, directions, guidelines, and recommendations” (p. 95). Second, there needs to be a scale of concerns or priorities in instructor comments and students’ revisions, with meaning-level issues coming first and foremost (p. 96). Finally, Zamel argues that instructors should respond to student writers (people) rather than student writing (product) (p. 97).
In “Across the Drafts” (2006), [not to be confused with "Between the Drafts"] Nancy Sommers reports and discusses the findings of a four-year longitudinal study of 400 Harvard students. Sommers claims that “most comments, unfortunately, do not move students forward as writers because they underwhelm or overwhelm them, going unread and unused. As one student suggested, ‘Too often comments are written to the paper, not to the student’” (p. 250). Furthermore, nearly 90% of the students in the study “urge faculty to give more specific comments” (p. 251). She concludes from the study that “feedback plays a leading role in undergraduate writing development when, but only when, students and teachers create a partnership through feedback—a transaction in which teachers engage with their students by treating them as apprentice scholars, offering honest critique paired with instruction” (p. 250). In addition, Sommers examines the role of the student, a topic that has been neglected in most professional literature. Even if instructors engage their students as “apprentice scholars,” the student must be willing “to accept and benefit from feedback, to see it as instruction, not merely judgment” (p. 253).
In “Recovering the Conversation: A Reponse to 'Responding to Student Writing' via 'Across the Drafts'” (2006), Carol Rutz agrees with Sommers’s assessment that virtually all scholarship on responding to student writing has neglected the student’s role, as well as the classroom or social context of instructor feedback. The problem, Rutz argues, is that previous studies have focused on textual analysis, which cannot answer questions about students’ reaction to comments, how classroom instruction influences students’ decisions about revising, why instructors comment on particular things, and so forth (p. 258). Rutz finds in her own study that “clear messages between teachers and students about how drafts will be read promote meaningful communication” (p. 261)(emphasis in original).
If anyone's curious: For my thesis, I plan to look at the length of comments, their directiveness, and the concomitant (un)helpfulness of said comments. I'm also going to consider students' personality types and language proficiency to determine which comments help which students the most or least. I plan to examine three sections each of Eng 100, 110, and graduate-level classes. So if anyone's intrigued and would like to have their students participate, please let me know.
Finally, if anyone is interested in more information on this topic, I can post the citations to several more good articles.
Rutz, C. (2006). Recovering the Conversation: A Reponse to 'Responding to Student Writing' via 'Across the Drafts'. College Composition and Communication , 257-62.
Sommers, N. (2006). Across the Drafts. College Composition and Communication , 248-57.
Sommers, N. (1982). Responding to Student Writing. College Composition and Communication , 148-156.
Zamel, V. (1985). Responding to Student Writing. TESOL Quarterly , 79-101.
In “Responding to Student Writing,” (1982) Nancy Sommers discovered that “teachers’ comments can take students’ attention away from their own purposes in writing a particular text and focus that attention on the teachers’ purposes in commenting” (Sommers, p. 149) (original emphasis). In other words, teachers appropriate their students’ texts by directing students to focus on areas that the teacher — rather than the student — deems important. Sommers says this appropriation occurs most frequently when teachers comment extensively on grammar, word choice, and style in the first draft, which gives students an exaggerated idea of theses elements’ importance. She advocates a “scale of concerns” that weights comments on organization and logic more than comments on spelling and grammar (p. 151).
Most disastrously, teachers’ comments often give contradictory messages. Sommers provides a facsimile of a student paragraph in which the instructor has written “wordy” above multiple sentences and “This paragraph needs to be expanded” in the margin (p. 150). Such unclear contradiction could be a cause or a symptom of Sommers’s next finding, “that most teachers’ comments are not text-specific and could be interchanged, rubber-stamped, from text to text” (p. 152)(original emphasis). The students Sommers, Brannon, and Knoblauch interviewed all admitted great difficulty with interpreting their teachers’ vague directives. Rather than helping the students, comments such as “choose precise language” or “think more about your audience” transformed revising into “a guessing game” (Sommers, p. 153).
Vivian Zamel’s 1985 study of 15 ESL teachers' comments, “Responding to Student Writing,” asserts that “teachers respond to most writing as if it were a final draft, thus reinforcing an extremely constricted notion of composing” and “teachers’ marks and comments usually take the form of abstract and vague prescriptions and directives that students find difficult to interpret.” She adds, “Rarely was a question asked or a suggestion made that gave students real direction” (p. 92). When such comments did appear, however, it indicated that the instructor expected substantial revision rather than mere surface-level correctness.
Zamel concludes that vague commentary and abstractions should be replaced with “text-specific strategies, directions, guidelines, and recommendations” (p. 95). Second, there needs to be a scale of concerns or priorities in instructor comments and students’ revisions, with meaning-level issues coming first and foremost (p. 96). Finally, Zamel argues that instructors should respond to student writers (people) rather than student writing (product) (p. 97).
In “Across the Drafts” (2006), [not to be confused with "Between the Drafts"] Nancy Sommers reports and discusses the findings of a four-year longitudinal study of 400 Harvard students. Sommers claims that “most comments, unfortunately, do not move students forward as writers because they underwhelm or overwhelm them, going unread and unused. As one student suggested, ‘Too often comments are written to the paper, not to the student’” (p. 250). Furthermore, nearly 90% of the students in the study “urge faculty to give more specific comments” (p. 251). She concludes from the study that “feedback plays a leading role in undergraduate writing development when, but only when, students and teachers create a partnership through feedback—a transaction in which teachers engage with their students by treating them as apprentice scholars, offering honest critique paired with instruction” (p. 250). In addition, Sommers examines the role of the student, a topic that has been neglected in most professional literature. Even if instructors engage their students as “apprentice scholars,” the student must be willing “to accept and benefit from feedback, to see it as instruction, not merely judgment” (p. 253).
In “Recovering the Conversation: A Reponse to 'Responding to Student Writing' via 'Across the Drafts'” (2006), Carol Rutz agrees with Sommers’s assessment that virtually all scholarship on responding to student writing has neglected the student’s role, as well as the classroom or social context of instructor feedback. The problem, Rutz argues, is that previous studies have focused on textual analysis, which cannot answer questions about students’ reaction to comments, how classroom instruction influences students’ decisions about revising, why instructors comment on particular things, and so forth (p. 258). Rutz finds in her own study that “clear messages between teachers and students about how drafts will be read promote meaningful communication” (p. 261)(emphasis in original).
If anyone's curious: For my thesis, I plan to look at the length of comments, their directiveness, and the concomitant (un)helpfulness of said comments. I'm also going to consider students' personality types and language proficiency to determine which comments help which students the most or least. I plan to examine three sections each of Eng 100, 110, and graduate-level classes. So if anyone's intrigued and would like to have their students participate, please let me know.
Finally, if anyone is interested in more information on this topic, I can post the citations to several more good articles.
Rutz, C. (2006). Recovering the Conversation: A Reponse to 'Responding to Student Writing' via 'Across the Drafts'. College Composition and Communication , 257-62.
Sommers, N. (2006). Across the Drafts. College Composition and Communication , 248-57.
Sommers, N. (1982). Responding to Student Writing. College Composition and Communication , 148-156.
Zamel, V. (1985). Responding to Student Writing. TESOL Quarterly , 79-101.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Writing What We Teach and the Danger of Modeling
After reading several posts about the Writing What We Teach assignment, I've noticed that almost everyone plans on using the assignment as a model for the textual/critical analysis. Some seem very open to doing so, while others seem a bit more hesitant to present his/her writing as a model to be emulated or imitated. I think it is important to ask ourselves about the purposes, benefits, and dangers of modeling.
Obviously, the purpose is to give our students some idea of how to do the assignment. They benefit by having a model on which to base their efforts. The danger is inherent. If students base their writing on the model, are they really learning to write? Furthermore, if the model is the teacher who has power over their grades, then aren't students forced to model or imitate their teacher's process/writing in order to get a good grade? Of course, "forced" may be too strong of a word. They may choose not to imitate the teacher's writing, but wouldn't a shrewd student quickly realize the advantages of doing so?
Because of the above dangers, I think we need to be careful with how we present models to our students, especially when we are the models. The authors of the readings we assign are not in control of students' grades, are not in the classroom, or even in the same century sometimes. Hence, they may provide inspiration or ideas, but most students (I don't think) are going to say, "Wow, I should try to write exactly like So-and-So." Thus, assigned readings are benign but helpful models. The teacher's model, however, implies that this is how it is done. For that reason, I think we should try to present our model as one of many alternatives and then grade accordingly instead of expecting (consciously or unconsciously) to see our writing mirrored back to us.
When I presented my Writing What We Teach drafts to my students, I emphasized the structure in order to give them a rough outline of what they could do, adding extra emphasis on the could. I also emphasized the choices I had made, telling them that writers make choices that have advantages and disadvantages. Fortunately, some of my students were quick to point out the disadvantages. I told them I had a problem with being very wordy, especially with long introductory phrases, and showed where I had cut a couple very long introductory phrases, improving the writing in my opinion. Multiple students disagreed, arguing that the shorter sentence lacked the original's style, detail, and substance. Not only did it boost my ego, but it illustrated that I'm just a fallible writer whose choices sometimes succeed and sometimes fail, just like them.
Obviously, the purpose is to give our students some idea of how to do the assignment. They benefit by having a model on which to base their efforts. The danger is inherent. If students base their writing on the model, are they really learning to write? Furthermore, if the model is the teacher who has power over their grades, then aren't students forced to model or imitate their teacher's process/writing in order to get a good grade? Of course, "forced" may be too strong of a word. They may choose not to imitate the teacher's writing, but wouldn't a shrewd student quickly realize the advantages of doing so?
Because of the above dangers, I think we need to be careful with how we present models to our students, especially when we are the models. The authors of the readings we assign are not in control of students' grades, are not in the classroom, or even in the same century sometimes. Hence, they may provide inspiration or ideas, but most students (I don't think) are going to say, "Wow, I should try to write exactly like So-and-So." Thus, assigned readings are benign but helpful models. The teacher's model, however, implies that this is how it is done. For that reason, I think we should try to present our model as one of many alternatives and then grade accordingly instead of expecting (consciously or unconsciously) to see our writing mirrored back to us.
When I presented my Writing What We Teach drafts to my students, I emphasized the structure in order to give them a rough outline of what they could do, adding extra emphasis on the could. I also emphasized the choices I had made, telling them that writers make choices that have advantages and disadvantages. Fortunately, some of my students were quick to point out the disadvantages. I told them I had a problem with being very wordy, especially with long introductory phrases, and showed where I had cut a couple very long introductory phrases, improving the writing in my opinion. Multiple students disagreed, arguing that the shorter sentence lacked the original's style, detail, and substance. Not only did it boost my ego, but it illustrated that I'm just a fallible writer whose choices sometimes succeed and sometimes fail, just like them.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
The Failing Class
The scenario: 0ut of twenty-two students, two submitted all required materials while twelve did not submit rough drafts and twelve did not submit reflective writings. The syllabus policy allows but does not dictate that twenty students receive F grades for not submitting everything required. This occurrs approximately midway through the semester.
Since this is not the first paper the students have turned in, I can assume that they knew what was required and how to fulfill said requirements. Therefore, the only logical explanations are 1) the students somehow thought that the rough drafts and reflection essays were not due for this particular paper, 2)the students did not care enough to remember to turn in their rough drafts and/or write the reflection essays, 3) the students decided that requiring these materials was stupid and refused to submit the rough draft or write the reflection essay, or 4) the students did not have time to write reflective essays because of other coursework, jobs, personal crises, etc.
I am not a good mind-reader, so I would ask my students as a class why they did not turn in all of the materials. If the students were resistant, I would find out the reasons why they resisted the policy and consider whether it should be revised to better serve my students. If it was a misunderstanding, then I would make sure to clear it up. If they were apathetic, I would try to impress upon them the importance of the rough drafts and the reflective essays to them as writers and me as a grader. If they were overwhelmed by coursework, I would give them another chance to turn in the required materials without penalty and implore them to let their instructors know ahead of time when they needed extra time on particular assignments, like reflection essays. In all cases, I would not assign grades until I received the required materials. For the next paper, I would explicitly state what they needed to turn in with the final draft.
Since this is not the first paper the students have turned in, I can assume that they knew what was required and how to fulfill said requirements. Therefore, the only logical explanations are 1) the students somehow thought that the rough drafts and reflection essays were not due for this particular paper, 2)the students did not care enough to remember to turn in their rough drafts and/or write the reflection essays, 3) the students decided that requiring these materials was stupid and refused to submit the rough draft or write the reflection essay, or 4) the students did not have time to write reflective essays because of other coursework, jobs, personal crises, etc.
I am not a good mind-reader, so I would ask my students as a class why they did not turn in all of the materials. If the students were resistant, I would find out the reasons why they resisted the policy and consider whether it should be revised to better serve my students. If it was a misunderstanding, then I would make sure to clear it up. If they were apathetic, I would try to impress upon them the importance of the rough drafts and the reflective essays to them as writers and me as a grader. If they were overwhelmed by coursework, I would give them another chance to turn in the required materials without penalty and implore them to let their instructors know ahead of time when they needed extra time on particular assignments, like reflection essays. In all cases, I would not assign grades until I received the required materials. For the next paper, I would explicitly state what they needed to turn in with the final draft.
Monday, April 14, 2008
My First Conference
I went to my first academic conference this weekend, the Mid-Atlantice Writing Center Association conference at Temple University in Philadelphia. It was a wonderful experience. My paper presentation went really well. Every time I glanced up from my reading, my listeners seemed to be alert and engaged, a stark contrast to the dead-eyed stares I often see from my 110 students. As I finished, I noticed several people smiling with apparent appreciation. Then a couple people asked questions about my paper, including requests for bibliographic information about my subject. When I offered my entire paper (I came prepared to give -- and to take back with me -- copies of my paper), they seemed very happy to receive them. I also met several nice people and asked for some of their papers. All in all, it was great to go from room to room of intelligent people who were passionately discussing topics of common interest. It was like one Socratic Symposium after another, minus the drunkeness and togas.
Among the many things I learned about this weekend, a couple are worth briefly mentioning here. First, one presenter analyzed Academic Discourse in terms of personality types, concluding that Academic Discourse has a INTJ or perhaps a INFJ personality type. Rather than teach students to become INTJs, however, we should teach students to "method act," becoming the persona of the academic personality. Second, some writing center directors and tutors are beginning to dialogue with professors about their expectations for and instruction of students. For example, one tutor sent about twenty-five e-mails to the same instructor in the same day (they were required to bring their paper in), all explaining the same exact difficulties understanding the assignment. Finally, the tutor sent an e-mail telling the instructor to consider re-teaching this area. The instructor was all too happy to take this suggestion. As a T.A., this anecdote makes me want writing center tutors to provide me with this kind of valuable information, both for individual students and my classes as a whole. Although I have never wanted to require Writing Center visits, I think having tutors' feedback on an entire class would be invaluable.
I also was able to see a lot of Philly in a short amount of time. My hotel was in the middle of downtown. I walked to City Hall, down to Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, Carpenter's Hall, a couple other sights, a couple war memorials, and the nightlife scene of South Street. Jim's Steaks truly are the best Philly Cheese Steaks in the world!
The highlight of the entire trip, however, was seeing Stephen Colbert walk out of Independence Hall and film a segment for his show! Amazing! Pictures will be posted to Facebook soon.
Among the many things I learned about this weekend, a couple are worth briefly mentioning here. First, one presenter analyzed Academic Discourse in terms of personality types, concluding that Academic Discourse has a INTJ or perhaps a INFJ personality type. Rather than teach students to become INTJs, however, we should teach students to "method act," becoming the persona of the academic personality. Second, some writing center directors and tutors are beginning to dialogue with professors about their expectations for and instruction of students. For example, one tutor sent about twenty-five e-mails to the same instructor in the same day (they were required to bring their paper in), all explaining the same exact difficulties understanding the assignment. Finally, the tutor sent an e-mail telling the instructor to consider re-teaching this area. The instructor was all too happy to take this suggestion. As a T.A., this anecdote makes me want writing center tutors to provide me with this kind of valuable information, both for individual students and my classes as a whole. Although I have never wanted to require Writing Center visits, I think having tutors' feedback on an entire class would be invaluable.
I also was able to see a lot of Philly in a short amount of time. My hotel was in the middle of downtown. I walked to City Hall, down to Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, Carpenter's Hall, a couple other sights, a couple war memorials, and the nightlife scene of South Street. Jim's Steaks truly are the best Philly Cheese Steaks in the world!
The highlight of the entire trip, however, was seeing Stephen Colbert walk out of Independence Hall and film a segment for his show! Amazing! Pictures will be posted to Facebook soon.
Monday, March 31, 2008
My passion for reading has permeated my teaching more than any of my other passions and interests. Reflecting on my pedagogy, I realize that an emphasis on reading has influenced my classroom without me even realizing it. Last semester, for example, I was mortified that my students didn't enjoy some of our course readings, which I honestly thought were amazing. Who doesn't like Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Letter from Birmingham Jail" or David Sedaris's "Cyclops"? I tried to encourage them to read texts analytically, so that they would have something to say in our class discussions, which resembled creative writing workshops. I showed them an essay I had annotated, which resulted in a collective gasp. We practiced analyzing and annotating an essay in class, much to my frustration since they weren't as quick to recognize certain elements (like the thesis) as I would have liked. We slogged through the rest of the semester's readings, and I felt like some of them would never again pick up a book. Surprisingly, many of last semester's students stated in a customized survey I gave them that they wanted more, repeat, more reading. Specifically, they wanted some short stories, novel excerpts, and other creative pieces.
So this semester, I gave my students short stories and book excerpts galore. I packed a lot of reading into the beginning of the semester, trying to give them practice in analyzing texts and material on which to write their critical analyses. I overdid it a little bit. Like last semester, many students did not like the readings I assigned, a fact of life that I have come to accept and even enjoy. Students are more likely to have specific reasons for disliking a reading than for liking it. By disagreeing with me (whether stated or not), they develop independent, critical thinking skills. Nancy Welch writes in "Revising a Writer's Identity," that reading can be a form of "Re-modeling" in which students recognize that they are not perfectly mirrored in texts or in the teacher who they would imitate to be successful (remember Bartholomae's "Inventing the University"). So if a student doesn't like Flannery O'Connor, then he or she recognizes that I, the mighty teacher, am not the end-all, be-all of literature; nor is the student compelled to be invested in the work, unless he/she wants to rip it apart. One of my students this semester wrote a very good critical analysis of Raymond Carver's "A Small, Good Thing," in which she scathingly criticized certain elements while highlighting the saving grace of others.
Although I am interested in Comp/Rhet and Literature, I am also a fiction writer, as shown by some of my reading selections above and the fact that I typically conduct discussions of said readings exactly like a creative writing workshop. I ask students what they think of the readings, sometimes providing a specific question or issue. I consider their comments, reinforce them with an affirming response that may or may not take their thoughts a little further, and encourage as many people as possible to participate. I love it when our conversations become living things, when I don't get to talk for ten solid minutes except to call on people with respectfully raised hands, when someone surprises me with a fresh interpretation that I had never and would never have thought of in my entire life. This workshop style of discussing texts is just as unconscious, I now realize, as my emphasis on reading. I don't plan to change my style with my new-found knowledge, but I think I will try to pull students who don't share my passion into the conversation through methods such as direct questioning, writing responses, mini-debates, and engaging their interests and passions whenever possible.
So this semester, I gave my students short stories and book excerpts galore. I packed a lot of reading into the beginning of the semester, trying to give them practice in analyzing texts and material on which to write their critical analyses. I overdid it a little bit. Like last semester, many students did not like the readings I assigned, a fact of life that I have come to accept and even enjoy. Students are more likely to have specific reasons for disliking a reading than for liking it. By disagreeing with me (whether stated or not), they develop independent, critical thinking skills. Nancy Welch writes in "Revising a Writer's Identity," that reading can be a form of "Re-modeling" in which students recognize that they are not perfectly mirrored in texts or in the teacher who they would imitate to be successful (remember Bartholomae's "Inventing the University"). So if a student doesn't like Flannery O'Connor, then he or she recognizes that I, the mighty teacher, am not the end-all, be-all of literature; nor is the student compelled to be invested in the work, unless he/she wants to rip it apart. One of my students this semester wrote a very good critical analysis of Raymond Carver's "A Small, Good Thing," in which she scathingly criticized certain elements while highlighting the saving grace of others.
Although I am interested in Comp/Rhet and Literature, I am also a fiction writer, as shown by some of my reading selections above and the fact that I typically conduct discussions of said readings exactly like a creative writing workshop. I ask students what they think of the readings, sometimes providing a specific question or issue. I consider their comments, reinforce them with an affirming response that may or may not take their thoughts a little further, and encourage as many people as possible to participate. I love it when our conversations become living things, when I don't get to talk for ten solid minutes except to call on people with respectfully raised hands, when someone surprises me with a fresh interpretation that I had never and would never have thought of in my entire life. This workshop style of discussing texts is just as unconscious, I now realize, as my emphasis on reading. I don't plan to change my style with my new-found knowledge, but I think I will try to pull students who don't share my passion into the conversation through methods such as direct questioning, writing responses, mini-debates, and engaging their interests and passions whenever possible.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Student Resistance
I blogged about the Writing What We Teach assignment earlier this semester, so I'm going to focus this post on a topic of recent interest. Let me begin with some stories.
I check my e-mail this morning. One was sent at 10:05 p.m. last night, informing me of the student's impending absence today due to an orthodontist appointment. I dare say that the orthodontist appointment was scheduled prior to 10:00 p.m. last night.
Another e-mail me informs me that the student is already back home for the break, but she will be happy to e-mail her paper to me if that is okay with me.
A third e-mail claims that the student had printer problems, but here is the draft as an attachment. This student does not show up for class just a short while after she sent the e-mail.
Finally, I look out at my students and say, "How about this? Anyone who doesn't care and doesn't want to be here can just leave. If anyone is left, we'll have a conversation." One student asks if there will be a penalty for leaving. I reply, "If you don't care, why should I care?" He packed his things and left.
I tell these stories to illustrate the vast gulf between my students and myself. First of all, I never would schedule an appointment during one of my classes unless it was absolutely unavoidable and necessary. And if I did so, my instructor would be the first person to know, with many apologies, and I would probably turn my paper in early. Second, I would have asked permission to go home early prior to actually going home. Third, there are too many computer labs (including three 24 hour ones) on this campus for a student to not print out his or her paper successfully. I will give this student credit for e-mailing the paper to me, but I suspect that this was her way of skipping class (she has had spotty attendance at best). Fourth, I would never have had the guts to walk out of the classroom, blatantly declaring my lack of interest in a subject to which my instructor has devoted a significant portion of his life.
I have to admire this student for his courage, however rude it may have been. I threw down the gauntlet, fully expecting the entire class to leave, and he picked it up without hesitation.
These recent events tell me the following: my students are resisting the class as much as possible. I think some of this resistance is passive. It was a coincidence, I'm sure, that the student scheduled his orthodontist appointment for class time. But I interpret his actions as resistance based on the fact that he didn't think twice and reschedule and then didn't bother letting me know about his absence until almost literally the eleventh hour. Similarly, the student who went home early probably didn't intend to resist the class; she simply wanted to go home early. But since she didn't ask if it was okay before she left, it's like she went over to a friend's house without her parent's permission and then called to ask if it was okay since she was there already. At best, this is unconscious high school behavior. At worst, it's conscious and pre-planned.
The student getting up and leaving (no one else even moved by the way) is definitely the most active resistance. So far, my response to student resistance (now that I look back) has been akin to pleading. I've almost begged them to be engaged in our class sessions, to take an interest and maybe write something down every now and then if that helps them stay awake. I've told them how I want them to enjoy the class, how it's supposed to be for their benefit, not mine. Nonetheless, there are only a couple students who "open" themselves enough to get much out of our class discussions.
My recent experience combined with the case-study I'm working on for Dr. Weaver's 621 class has prompted me to consider ways in which I can channel student resistance into a positive force. With my case-study, I think I could help my student to "transcend" his assignments, making them fit his interests. While this may seem like common sense to us T.A.s, my case-study student has never fully realized that he can write about anything he wants.
My current students are pretty much locked in for the Research and Position papers, unless they change their topics. I am would like to approach the Memoir and Revision paper assignments in a way that focuses their resistance without them realizing it. Perhaps I could focus the Memoir on a time when they bucked a trend or refused to do something, thus exerting their independence. Maybe the Revision paper could take a satirical approach to a previous paper. Any thoughts, ideas, comments, suggestions?
I check my e-mail this morning. One was sent at 10:05 p.m. last night, informing me of the student's impending absence today due to an orthodontist appointment. I dare say that the orthodontist appointment was scheduled prior to 10:00 p.m. last night.
Another e-mail me informs me that the student is already back home for the break, but she will be happy to e-mail her paper to me if that is okay with me.
A third e-mail claims that the student had printer problems, but here is the draft as an attachment. This student does not show up for class just a short while after she sent the e-mail.
Finally, I look out at my students and say, "How about this? Anyone who doesn't care and doesn't want to be here can just leave. If anyone is left, we'll have a conversation." One student asks if there will be a penalty for leaving. I reply, "If you don't care, why should I care?" He packed his things and left.
I tell these stories to illustrate the vast gulf between my students and myself. First of all, I never would schedule an appointment during one of my classes unless it was absolutely unavoidable and necessary. And if I did so, my instructor would be the first person to know, with many apologies, and I would probably turn my paper in early. Second, I would have asked permission to go home early prior to actually going home. Third, there are too many computer labs (including three 24 hour ones) on this campus for a student to not print out his or her paper successfully. I will give this student credit for e-mailing the paper to me, but I suspect that this was her way of skipping class (she has had spotty attendance at best). Fourth, I would never have had the guts to walk out of the classroom, blatantly declaring my lack of interest in a subject to which my instructor has devoted a significant portion of his life.
I have to admire this student for his courage, however rude it may have been. I threw down the gauntlet, fully expecting the entire class to leave, and he picked it up without hesitation.
These recent events tell me the following: my students are resisting the class as much as possible. I think some of this resistance is passive. It was a coincidence, I'm sure, that the student scheduled his orthodontist appointment for class time. But I interpret his actions as resistance based on the fact that he didn't think twice and reschedule and then didn't bother letting me know about his absence until almost literally the eleventh hour. Similarly, the student who went home early probably didn't intend to resist the class; she simply wanted to go home early. But since she didn't ask if it was okay before she left, it's like she went over to a friend's house without her parent's permission and then called to ask if it was okay since she was there already. At best, this is unconscious high school behavior. At worst, it's conscious and pre-planned.
The student getting up and leaving (no one else even moved by the way) is definitely the most active resistance. So far, my response to student resistance (now that I look back) has been akin to pleading. I've almost begged them to be engaged in our class sessions, to take an interest and maybe write something down every now and then if that helps them stay awake. I've told them how I want them to enjoy the class, how it's supposed to be for their benefit, not mine. Nonetheless, there are only a couple students who "open" themselves enough to get much out of our class discussions.
My recent experience combined with the case-study I'm working on for Dr. Weaver's 621 class has prompted me to consider ways in which I can channel student resistance into a positive force. With my case-study, I think I could help my student to "transcend" his assignments, making them fit his interests. While this may seem like common sense to us T.A.s, my case-study student has never fully realized that he can write about anything he wants.
My current students are pretty much locked in for the Research and Position papers, unless they change their topics. I am would like to approach the Memoir and Revision paper assignments in a way that focuses their resistance without them realizing it. Perhaps I could focus the Memoir on a time when they bucked a trend or refused to do something, thus exerting their independence. Maybe the Revision paper could take a satirical approach to a previous paper. Any thoughts, ideas, comments, suggestions?
Monday, March 3, 2008
Lessons from the Pedagogical Landscapes
In Eng 603 today, I feel that I learned some meaningful things. Although all of the "landscapes" my colleagues drew were quite different and unique, I noticed that all of them fell into one of two broad categories. My drawing, and many others, focused on the lone teacher struggling to synthesize various conflicting and complementing pedagogies, such as progressivism versus critical pedagogy or expressivism versus cognitivism. These drawings often featured a stick-figure either under the influence of theorist stick-figures or spying on theorist stick-figures. The other group of drawings gave the students a greater amount of attention. Kara's, for example, featured the teacher leading a line of students up a mountain (if a better metaphor for what we do exists, please let me know). Charity's drawing represented the teacher at various stages in her relationship with her students (Gatekeeper, Coach, Collaborative leader).
Dr. Cadle made a comment on this latter group of drawings, calling them "student-centered." Something clicked when she said that. I am a neo-platonist in many respects. I think there are universal truths concerning knowledge, life, love, etc., and that there are manifold manifestations of these truths. As a teacher, I'm trying to figure out the best way, the truth, of teaching and edifying my students. Thus, I try to synthesize the best of educational philosophy, from Plato to Vygotsky, from Shaughnessy to Bartholomae.
Perhaps, however, I should spend more time considering which truth, way, or philosophy works best for my students. Maybe the general attitude/personality of the students should dictate whether I approach them from an expressivist point of view or a classical perspective, as opposed to me asserting a cognitive model in this context and a progressive paradigm in another. In any case, I will try to consider centering the approach -- and not just the discussions -- on my students rather than what Bartholomae says about academic writing.
Dr. Cadle made a comment on this latter group of drawings, calling them "student-centered." Something clicked when she said that. I am a neo-platonist in many respects. I think there are universal truths concerning knowledge, life, love, etc., and that there are manifold manifestations of these truths. As a teacher, I'm trying to figure out the best way, the truth, of teaching and edifying my students. Thus, I try to synthesize the best of educational philosophy, from Plato to Vygotsky, from Shaughnessy to Bartholomae.
Perhaps, however, I should spend more time considering which truth, way, or philosophy works best for my students. Maybe the general attitude/personality of the students should dictate whether I approach them from an expressivist point of view or a classical perspective, as opposed to me asserting a cognitive model in this context and a progressive paradigm in another. In any case, I will try to consider centering the approach -- and not just the discussions -- on my students rather than what Bartholomae says about academic writing.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Issues, Issues, Issues
Since our next 603 class is supposed to be devoted to issues, I'm going to discuss some things that have really been irking me this semester, as well as some possible ways of dealing with them. For starters, I have some students who like to text/nap/talk while I'm speaking, which is tolerable for me up to a point. It doesn't bother me so much at the beginning of class, when I'm just chatting while waiting on any stragglers, outlining an activity we're going to do, or just discussing generalities. But later on when I'm talking about specific, they-need-to-know information, it drives me crazy to see someone with his/her head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, or two girls chatting in the corner, about a weekend adventure no doubt, or a guy texting someone.
I know some material is boring and/or too simple for college level intellects, but I wouldn't waste their time going over it if they knew it or if I knew all of them could figure it out. But whenever I assume my students can do things on their own and I tell them something like, "Format your paper so that it looks like the sample paper in A Writer's Reference by Diana Hacker," a large percentage of them invariably turn in something that could have been formatted out of "Derek Zoolander's Guide to College Writing for Kids who Want to Learn to Write and Do Other Things Good Too." So I take the trouble to hold their little hands and draw an example on the board. And I still get some papers that are not formatted correctly. Of course, formatting isn't a big deal in the grand scheme, but it would be nice if some students took the time to get it right. Or to proofread. Or to write coherent and/or cohesive sentences.
I've found that I tend to snap after so much pressure. Earlier this semester, I chewed out a student who hadn't done the assigned reading after struggling to have a discussion with an entire class of people who didn't do the reading. Yesterday, I told one guy who had his eyes closed, "You're not feeling well, are you? I understand. Try to stay awake, though. I want you to hear what I'm saying." Then when I caught another girl -- who usually participates a lot -- sleeping, I just snapped at the whole class, telling them how I was sick and tired of their crap.
I suppose it's all my own fault for being tolerant in the first place. How can I expect them to stay awake/keep their eyes open if I give the first person an understanding pep talk? How can I expect the repeat texters to keep their cell phones in their pockets when all they have to do is say, "I'm sorry" when I look at them and then I just go on with the lecture.
So, I am thinking about taking a hard-core approach from now on. For example, I've told my students that they need to bring A Writer's Reference with them on Tuesday. If someone doesn't have it, I'm considering telling that person to leave since he/she is unprepared for class. But, what if one of my "good" students forgets his/her book? I can't show favoritism (although some definitely deserve the benefit of the doubt whereas others deserve a kick in the butt). I can't bring myself to harshly penalize someone who made his/her first slip-up all semester. So as much as I want to take an uncompromising white-and-black view of things, I'm too cognizant of the grey areas.
Perhaps I would be better-served to address their behavior through their grades. I've given my students a ton of time to learn, prepare for, and write the critical analysis, which is my starting assignment this semester. Due to weather cancellations, they've received even more time. On Tuesday, they're going to get their first graded final drafts back. Surprise, surprise, the students who sleep/text/chat/don't read/don't participate/etc. have written truly awful drafts. Maybe this will be a wake-up call for those who need one, an affirmation for those who deserve it, and a solvent for all of my frustrating discipline/respect problems. Well, at least one can hope it all works like that.
I know some material is boring and/or too simple for college level intellects, but I wouldn't waste their time going over it if they knew it or if I knew all of them could figure it out. But whenever I assume my students can do things on their own and I tell them something like, "Format your paper so that it looks like the sample paper in A Writer's Reference by Diana Hacker," a large percentage of them invariably turn in something that could have been formatted out of "Derek Zoolander's Guide to College Writing for Kids who Want to Learn to Write and Do Other Things Good Too." So I take the trouble to hold their little hands and draw an example on the board. And I still get some papers that are not formatted correctly. Of course, formatting isn't a big deal in the grand scheme, but it would be nice if some students took the time to get it right. Or to proofread. Or to write coherent and/or cohesive sentences.
I've found that I tend to snap after so much pressure. Earlier this semester, I chewed out a student who hadn't done the assigned reading after struggling to have a discussion with an entire class of people who didn't do the reading. Yesterday, I told one guy who had his eyes closed, "You're not feeling well, are you? I understand. Try to stay awake, though. I want you to hear what I'm saying." Then when I caught another girl -- who usually participates a lot -- sleeping, I just snapped at the whole class, telling them how I was sick and tired of their crap.
I suppose it's all my own fault for being tolerant in the first place. How can I expect them to stay awake/keep their eyes open if I give the first person an understanding pep talk? How can I expect the repeat texters to keep their cell phones in their pockets when all they have to do is say, "I'm sorry" when I look at them and then I just go on with the lecture.
So, I am thinking about taking a hard-core approach from now on. For example, I've told my students that they need to bring A Writer's Reference with them on Tuesday. If someone doesn't have it, I'm considering telling that person to leave since he/she is unprepared for class. But, what if one of my "good" students forgets his/her book? I can't show favoritism (although some definitely deserve the benefit of the doubt whereas others deserve a kick in the butt). I can't bring myself to harshly penalize someone who made his/her first slip-up all semester. So as much as I want to take an uncompromising white-and-black view of things, I'm too cognizant of the grey areas.
Perhaps I would be better-served to address their behavior through their grades. I've given my students a ton of time to learn, prepare for, and write the critical analysis, which is my starting assignment this semester. Due to weather cancellations, they've received even more time. On Tuesday, they're going to get their first graded final drafts back. Surprise, surprise, the students who sleep/text/chat/don't read/don't participate/etc. have written truly awful drafts. Maybe this will be a wake-up call for those who need one, an affirmation for those who deserve it, and a solvent for all of my frustrating discipline/respect problems. Well, at least one can hope it all works like that.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Crazy, Crazy World
As I write this, CNN is covering a former police officer's murder trial. He claims he accidentally elbowed his pregnant girlfriend in the throat, breaking her windpipe, killing her, and then panicked and buried her body in a park. If he is convicted, he will likely receive the death penalty.
A few moments ago, CNN was covering the latest school/university shooting, this one at Northern Illinois University. A police officer explained that the local police responded with amazing speed. The shooting began at 3:26 p.m. Within thirty seconds, two police officers were there. Within another minute and a half, eight policemen were on scene. They were all too late to prevent the gunman--a former graduate student at NIU--from shooting 21 people, killing six plus himself.
On Tuesday, my first class period after this tragedy, I was planning to give my students practice brainstorming. I'd planned to focus their efforts on research paper topics. Instead, I think I might have them brainstorm about what the hell causes monsterous acts like the NIU, Virginia Tech, Columbine, and Jonesboro (AK) shootings, how they could possibly be prevented, why/how sick our culture and society is that people do this stuff. Maybe, hopefully, they can give me some answers.
A few moments ago, CNN was covering the latest school/university shooting, this one at Northern Illinois University. A police officer explained that the local police responded with amazing speed. The shooting began at 3:26 p.m. Within thirty seconds, two police officers were there. Within another minute and a half, eight policemen were on scene. They were all too late to prevent the gunman--a former graduate student at NIU--from shooting 21 people, killing six plus himself.
On Tuesday, my first class period after this tragedy, I was planning to give my students practice brainstorming. I'd planned to focus their efforts on research paper topics. Instead, I think I might have them brainstorm about what the hell causes monsterous acts like the NIU, Virginia Tech, Columbine, and Jonesboro (AK) shootings, how they could possibly be prevented, why/how sick our culture and society is that people do this stuff. Maybe, hopefully, they can give me some answers.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Different Classes, Different Personalities
This semester, I am teaching an 8:00 a.m. class and another class at 9:30 a.m., both on Tuesday/Thursday. I had thought that the 8:00 a.m. class would be very sluggish, reticent, and difficult to get discussing anything. On the contrary, my 8:00 a.m. class is wonderful. A solid majority of the students offer insightful, interesting comments on our assigned readings. There have been passionate, spirited debates about some of the readings and the issues therein. One of my best students actually said he wished my class was a little longer. Indeed, there have been multiple days when I thought we could have kept going for another twenty or thirty minutes.
The 9:30 a.m. class, however, acts as though someone tranquilized them. A small minority of the students offer good comments. Of these, there is seldom any passion or spirit behind their words. The rest of the students basically stare into space. I have tried very hard to call on every student, letting them know that I expect them to participate in discussion. Yet they readily cop out with incoherent grunts and monosyllabic responses. These class periods get out early and still feel long and awkward.
Today, one student actually got up halfway through class, walked out, and never returned. Perhaps he was merely going to the bathroom and then couldn't return because of a disasterous diarrhea episode. More likely, he didn't want to be there anymore. I can understand not wanting to be in class, but it is frustrating when all but a handful feel this way. In fact, I've had tough attendance problems with both classes, partially because of the rampant illness and partially because of the typical absentee-syndrome.
I really would like to blame the students in the 9:30 class. After all, I'm teaching the same stuff the same way to the 8:00 a.m. class and they love it. But the fact is that each class has its own personality, and it's my job to figure out a way to connect with the shy, apathetic class. So far, calling directly on them, giving them freewriting time, having them discuss in groups prior to class-wide discussion, and using provocative readings have not been very effective. Any suggestions?
The 9:30 a.m. class, however, acts as though someone tranquilized them. A small minority of the students offer good comments. Of these, there is seldom any passion or spirit behind their words. The rest of the students basically stare into space. I have tried very hard to call on every student, letting them know that I expect them to participate in discussion. Yet they readily cop out with incoherent grunts and monosyllabic responses. These class periods get out early and still feel long and awkward.
Today, one student actually got up halfway through class, walked out, and never returned. Perhaps he was merely going to the bathroom and then couldn't return because of a disasterous diarrhea episode. More likely, he didn't want to be there anymore. I can understand not wanting to be in class, but it is frustrating when all but a handful feel this way. In fact, I've had tough attendance problems with both classes, partially because of the rampant illness and partially because of the typical absentee-syndrome.
I really would like to blame the students in the 9:30 class. After all, I'm teaching the same stuff the same way to the 8:00 a.m. class and they love it. But the fact is that each class has its own personality, and it's my job to figure out a way to connect with the shy, apathetic class. So far, calling directly on them, giving them freewriting time, having them discuss in groups prior to class-wide discussion, and using provocative readings have not been very effective. Any suggestions?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
New Edition?
I have mixed feelings about the new edition of The Presence of Others. I haven't read all of the essays, of course, but I have perused the table of contents. It appears that Lunsford and Ruszkiewicz have added some great essays in the gender, ethics, and business/labor sections of the anthology (by the way, I like that they made ethics its own section). They've also dropped a few good readings, most notably Neil Postman's "The Great Symbol Drain." I also think I'll miss Jimmy Carter and Elie Wiesel's essays on the Iraq war, since they're perfect opposites for the critical analysis assignment. But the Iraq war has been debated to death, so I understand dropping those essays.
From a teaching perspective, I think it would be great to make copies of good readings from the old anthology (such as Postman's "Symbol Drain") to use in addition to the new anthology. From the student's perspective, I'm not sure that the new readings are necessarily worth the higher cost of a brand new edition. Perhaps a good middle ground would be to wait a year or two until there will be plenty of used copies of the new edition available via bookstores and the internet. After all, I have a feeling that most current T.A.s will use the same readings from the old edition since they are familiar with those readings, with maybe a few new ones added to the syllabus. In which case, I would be seriously upset if I were a 110 student who had to pay a lot more for the same old readings. (Of course, a 110 student will have no idea if this is the case, but I think teachers should put themselves in their student's shoes as much as possible, especially when deciding what would be best for their learning, finances, preparation for future classes, etc.)
From a teaching perspective, I think it would be great to make copies of good readings from the old anthology (such as Postman's "Symbol Drain") to use in addition to the new anthology. From the student's perspective, I'm not sure that the new readings are necessarily worth the higher cost of a brand new edition. Perhaps a good middle ground would be to wait a year or two until there will be plenty of used copies of the new edition available via bookstores and the internet. After all, I have a feeling that most current T.A.s will use the same readings from the old edition since they are familiar with those readings, with maybe a few new ones added to the syllabus. In which case, I would be seriously upset if I were a 110 student who had to pay a lot more for the same old readings. (Of course, a 110 student will have no idea if this is the case, but I think teachers should put themselves in their student's shoes as much as possible, especially when deciding what would be best for their learning, finances, preparation for future classes, etc.)
Friday, January 18, 2008
Writing What We Teach and Sharing What We Write
While working on the Writing What We Teach assignment, I have been conscientiously commenting on my own writing. I've made an effort to describe and explain various rhetorical moves, why I'm making them, what I'm trying to accomplish through them, etc. I've also been keeping track of potential pitfalls, mistakes, and things for further consideration. By sharing this essay and my self-comments with my students, I hope to give them guidance for how to approach the critical analysis.
Unexpectedly, I've found that commenting on my own writing has put a magnifying glass, so to speak, to my process--both my writing and thought processes. I think I'm always aware of the decisions I make as I write and the rationale behind them, but pausing every so often to actively ponder and explain them has heightened this awareness. I think there are several lessons to be learned from this experience.
First, I've reminded myself that a writer always has some kind of reason to his madness. If we as Composition teachers can keep this at the forefront of our minds, perhaps we can discern the rationale behind our struggling student's work and then help them to understand and build on it. Second, we can help our students realize that they ought to have specific reasoning behind their decisions to do this or that in their writing. The next step is helping them improve this reasoning, thus making better decisions. Of course, there is great potential (and danger) to make our students into models of ourselves. Accordingly, much of my self-commenting concerns the subjectivity of my choices, how I could just as easily choose a different way (to cut this introductory phrase or not to cut?) and the pros and cons of the various choices and options. Third, it might be beneficial to our students to have them comment on their own writing in a similar fashion, thereby making them more aware of the thought-processes behind their writing. And finally, self-commenting during drafting could be an excellent tool for researching student writing processes.
I want to close by referencing Mina Shaughnessy. As she told us, in so many words, we need to understand the logic behind our student's mistakes in order to correct them. By commenting on my critical analysis and sharing these comments with my students, hopefully I'll help them understand their own logic through discussion of my rhetorical choices.
Unexpectedly, I've found that commenting on my own writing has put a magnifying glass, so to speak, to my process--both my writing and thought processes. I think I'm always aware of the decisions I make as I write and the rationale behind them, but pausing every so often to actively ponder and explain them has heightened this awareness. I think there are several lessons to be learned from this experience.
First, I've reminded myself that a writer always has some kind of reason to his madness. If we as Composition teachers can keep this at the forefront of our minds, perhaps we can discern the rationale behind our struggling student's work and then help them to understand and build on it. Second, we can help our students realize that they ought to have specific reasoning behind their decisions to do this or that in their writing. The next step is helping them improve this reasoning, thus making better decisions. Of course, there is great potential (and danger) to make our students into models of ourselves. Accordingly, much of my self-commenting concerns the subjectivity of my choices, how I could just as easily choose a different way (to cut this introductory phrase or not to cut?) and the pros and cons of the various choices and options. Third, it might be beneficial to our students to have them comment on their own writing in a similar fashion, thereby making them more aware of the thought-processes behind their writing. And finally, self-commenting during drafting could be an excellent tool for researching student writing processes.
I want to close by referencing Mina Shaughnessy. As she told us, in so many words, we need to understand the logic behind our student's mistakes in order to correct them. By commenting on my critical analysis and sharing these comments with my students, hopefully I'll help them understand their own logic through discussion of my rhetorical choices.
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