Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Thinking about Writing Program History

Every time I read additional articles/books about the history of writing instruction I'm fascinated by the combination of innovation and circularity -- constant flow of people thinking about writing and about new ways to teach writing, and a constant flow of people saying we are doing it wrong.

What's up with that?

Can it just not be taught? Somewhere in all that circular motion of reform and innovation have we made any progress at all in thinking about how writing happens? How it is learned?

Most teachers who teach writing or work closely with writers to improve writing (at any level and in any field) have had moments when they feel their instruction has resulted in some kind of change for the better. It might be a better understanding of grammar, or a rhetorical sophistication in a particular genre, or an ability to organize text/ideas in useful ways. This success is also part of the problem. If we don't know how writing is learned (really) and we aren't sure what (exactly) we do as writing instructors that is useful, then the default is to point to either (1) some activity we do that results in a change in writing habits, or (2) some relationship that we have with apprentice writers that seems to make them more confident or agile in their approach. The problem is that this lore then becomes part of a teacher's unexamined practice -- we just do what we think might work without thinking about the bigger picture.

So I guess the questions I have are:

(1) Can we come up with ways to integrate writing instruction (at the introductory writing and advanced writing levels) so that we avoid the "1 teacher in a classroom doing what s/he thinks might work," while still keeping innovation at the core of our pedagogy.

(2) What do historical accounts tell us about practice that we can USE in thinking about future practices?

(3) How much do attitudes about writing instruction vary from attitudes about other "content-oriented" subjects. What are the subtle differences (and what are the similarities) between a content-oriented approach to teaching and an approach that see writing a a generalized thinking/communicating skill? How do these differences affect the nature of instruction?

I'm also interested in documenting (at least a little) how various approaches to teaching have resulted in very specific activities and assignments. If we think "X" about writing, then we do "Y" in the classroom to improve writing. Often it seems as if this direct relationship is missing in our understanding of how theory translate into practice.
This is just a test post. I want to see if I can make a link that will work. This is a link to an article I wrote for the WMU 1st Year Writing Teacher's Guide, Controlling the Chaos. It's called, "Entering the Theory Cloud."

Link to article

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Thinking about Technology: Small Tools
Joyce R. Walker, Director
WMU First Year Writing Program
Fall, 2008


I believe it’s important for writing instructors at WMU to think specifically about how digital technologies can be used to enhance teaching practices, because digital technologies do offer us ways to record, produce, and investigate that are very different from the capabilities of non-digital tools. However, this consideration does not have to include the creation of major projects using digital technologies (shooting movies instead of writing papers – which is, by the way, a huge issue of contention in FYW programs nationwide). Instead, I would like us to consider a range of ways technologies can be useful. The following ideas are not meant to be exhaustive, but rather are designed to get us thinking about how technologies actually work in the world, and how we can do better in our efforts to make their use as writing tools and materials visible (to make them “hypermediated” as Jay Bolter and Richard Grusin might say).


AREA ONE: As Part of Classroom Discussions

Obviously, our classroom technologies like overhead projectors, LCD projectors, Document cameras, laptop computers, and digital audio recorders can be useful for class discussions. I think it’s worthwhile to consider how you can/should/might use these technologies, keeping in mind that you are not the only one who might make use of them. How can we get students involved in the process of using these technologies – and perhaps most importantly, how can we get them to make use of them in ways that make their affordances (what they can or will, or – as Latour might say – want to do) visible? For example, how does the use of these tools affect what the class can know about itself? How do they change what the class can remember (as a group and as individuals) about the knowledge that has been created? Could these technologies be used to share information with other classes, or with the outside world in some way? How does who gets to control these technologies shape how the class works and how power works within the class? In other words, these technologies are just there, ripe for being used – they need not become black-boxes – simple tools that you use without thinking about them. They can become part of the classes’ consideration of how materiality affects textual (and knowledge) production.


AREA TWO: As Part of Ongoing discussion and practice of research strategies and skills

Area two is an extension of area one, but with more of a focus on the use of technologies to do the kinds of research that are constantly being required for almost any type of writing products to be produced. I believe that our failure to do this is often part of our vision of the classroom as a place where information flows from the teacher to the student – if the teacher is supposed to be controlling the classroom and “teaching” students stuff, then why would students need to be looking stuff up on the internet? We also have a believe that order (all the students looking at the teacher) means that students are learning. It’s my belief that this kind of embedded, “truthy” knowledge about teaching are among the “fundamental fallacies” that interrupt and limit our efforts to open up the classroom.

So I’d like to offer the three following scenarios. One is based on just asking students to become responsible searchers of general information; one is asking students to do research into the production of various kind of genres (which is specifically connected to our learning outcomes); and one is thinking about how to teach students to adapt and connect their existing research skills to the kinds of research they may need to accomplish as working members of the academy.

Scenario One: Just Checking: This is a sort of research version of “Two-Truths and a Lie.” Have students (in groups) compose short paragraphs modeled on some kind information source (like a newspaper, or a t.v. news show, or a PBS t.v. news show, or an email chain-letter, or a text message). Have them decide on the source, find samples of the source online, and then compose their paragraphs (oh, with an additional paragraph describing how they decided what the features of the genre should be in terms of how it presented information). Their paragraphs should contain between 3-5 items of information, and can range from all true, to all false (as well as some version of both true and false). Groups elect a member to read each paragraph out-loud, then groups trade paragraphs. Each group has 30 minutes or so to use the internet to find out which pieces of information are true and false. They must cite their sources and explain how the processes through which they found these sources.

The point behind such an exercise would be illustrate both how sources can be cited and supported, and how readers can use their research skills to find out whether they should believe sources. This kind of activity could also include finding sources that print things that are not true, and then using the internet to make an effective argument that facts have been mis-represented. For such an activity, the instructor might want to pre-screen (find sources that misrepresent facts – it might also be worthwhile to put in a few that don’t actually misrepresent, but subtly manipulate facts).

I also think it’d be interesting to give a lecture (short 10-15 minutes) on some writing genre or other, knowing that I (the instructor) am misrepresenting information about what the genre will and won’t allow. Like talking about grammar and style conventions as absolute, when I know there are examples where the conventions have been disregarded, or saying with conviction that all writing has a thesis in the first paragraph. It could be cool to start with something like a 5-paragraph essay, or some other genre with which students are at least somewhat familiar. Students could then be using computers to find the misrepresentations I’ve made, as well as their own knowledge – discussion could center around how reading, experiential knowing, and researching can all help an individual to decide what conventions to follow when writing.

All of these kinds of activities are short, in-class activities that can show how access to information can sometimes have an immediate effect – helping a reader to know how to understand or use information that he/she comes across. It also sets up relationships to information that are more flexible (and less school-like) which could be helpful in other kinds for other kinds of disruption or boundary-crossing activities.

Scenario Two: Researching Genres. Obviously the process of researching genres is an important part of many of the writing projects we do in our program. The scenario I am trying to promote here would be one in which students are asked to spend class time finding, identifying, and discussing the conventions of genres. Kristin Denslow’s syllabus (you can find it on the ENGL 1050 website) includes as a major project having students produce “Idiot’s Guides” for genres of their choice. Which is a pretty cool project idea and could include some in-class research, or at least discussion of researched information that might require use of some digital technologies to show and highlight information students have found. But this kind of activity could also be done as an in-class activity. Groups could be assigned (or could select) a genre and spend class time discussing what they have found online (with perhaps a 2-class activity being used to have students do this searching outside of class). They could then be asked to produce different kind of genres to share this information with others. [I.e., a to-do list, a text message, a five-paragraph essay, and a diagram]. They could then discuss how each genre works as a way to disseminate the information. In a three-class-period activity they could then do “market testing” to see which genre was most favorably received by users. They could then produce a report on their findings, with a more explicit “report-style” production that explains the genre in detail, shows the various production-genres they tried out for disseminating brief versions of their research, discusses their marketing research, and then considers other possible production genres that might be used to share information about the genre they’ve researched.

I could see such activities as part of a large project (with students working in groups or as individuals). I could see the class working together (during class period) to produce one version of this assignment, then having them go off on their own to produce their own versions. Finally, I could see a very shortened version of this activity used to get students to think about how to do research into genres they are interested in producing (perhaps as part of a “Choose-your-own-genre” type of project (see John Abbott’s syllabus on the ENGL 1050 website for a description of this kind of project);

Scenario Three: Adapting Research Skills One of the key things that some research I’ve been doing (mostly with a colleague, Jim Purdy, but also with Suzan Aiken) into the kinds of research skills and identities that students bring to university research activities, shows that it is perhaps a dangerous practice to treat students as if the researching skills they bring to the university must somehow be transformed, or even abandoned if they are going to succeed in an academic research environment. Instead, we believe it is more useful to discuss with students how their existing skills translate and can be adapted to various kind of university-level research.

The following scenario represents an attempt to make this kind of translation/adaptation move. The instructor first discusses with students a range of skills they possess for searching and finding information (say, buying a car, or finding out about where to buy something, or looking up information about other subjects – things they already know how to do. They don’t have to be using search engines for the research they are describing, or the library – they just have to be making thoughtful searches for necessary information. Students could (in groups or individually) write up these processes.

Using the laptop carts (so everyone has a computer) students would then begin to work on a process that they consider (based on their school experience) an “academic” search for information. (Note: I might be good to do this after they had already had their library day, but it could work also to talk about their knowledge of “school research” and have them discuss and do process-charts for research they did for high school or other research projects.

Then students could compare the two kinds of research activities – what activities are the same, which ones are different. If they are able to identify a lot of similarities, they might write these up as “useful skills” and if they identify areas where university research is different they might write up how-to guides for doing these kinds of activities.

AREA THREE: As Investigative Tools for Recording & Observing

One way that digital/mechanical technologies can really make a difference in the writing classroom, is that they can be used to move teachers and students away from the idea that the primary (and really, in some cases the only) tools/materials useful in writing classrooms would be some version of those required to produced a version of the “academic essay” with ink on white paper. In this version, the pen, the typewriter, the computer are all the same tool – one that can be used to produce a certain kind of writing. But in the kind of research-oriented perspective that we are trying to promote for our ENGL 1050 program, all kinds of other technologies could potentially become central for a project or an activity. This is not just because one might use a different kind of tool to experiment with (to create a juxtaposition or disruption to use as a teaching moment), but because different kinds of technologies can be used to help authors research and think about the kinds of writing they are going to produce. Many of the research methods that Paul Prior discusses in his essay, “Tracing Processes” required different kinds of writing/composing technologies. It would be very useful for ENGL 1050 instructors to think about how these kinds of research methods (using audio to record talk about writing processes, or using various visual tools to represent writing-in-action, or using photographs to record different kinds of writing practices) could help students think more carefully and critically about how writing is produced.

AREA FOUR: As part of Student Discussions of Genre Practices

Scenario Two, (“Researching Genres”), which I have discussed above, involves this important perspective on the use of various kinds of writing technologies and modes of production. It can be critical to use a range of different kinds of materials to have students explore how genres can be investigated and understood. This includes the kind of research I’ve just discussed in Area Three (above), as well as various kinds of visual and conceptual mapping to help students create structures that explain and illustrate the complex boundaries that can govern genres in various real-world settings.

Here it’s worthwhile to mention some actual technologies – like various kinds of online spaces for creating data clouds and visual maps. Many of these are free, and we-based, so you need only have access to computers and wireless connections to get students using these space to create maps of their research into various kind so genres and their production. We’ll be (soon) placing some links to these kinds of resources onto the FYW website.


AREA FOUR: Incorporated in Large Writing Projects (simple version)

Incorporating technology into large writing projects simply means having all of the students use a particular technology to create writing productions of some kind. For example, this would include projects where students use a photo-website like Flickr to create visual ethnographies; or create analyses of social sites such as Myspace or Friendster, or create reports on the use of various kinds of research tools available through the WMU library, etc. All the students are focused on learning and using the technology in the same way (although the topics of their project might be different). Such projects are really no different than any other choice an instructor might make (say to have students write a short story as one of their genres, or to write an academic argument paper, etc.). The one important advantage digitally-based projects offer, is that the technology used is often non-traditional (as a tool in a composition classroom), and therefore it becomes relatively simple to use the technology to disrupt embedded notions of how writing “needs to happen.” Rather than students engaging in “black-boxed” practices like using a computer to type a paper, they have to work using different tools, and this can create some interesting space for discussion about tools/materials. In my own ENGL 1050 classes, I always try to incorporate some project where students are required to use some kinds of production technologies that move beyond the computer = printed page in their production.


AREA FIVE: Incorporated in Large Writing Projects (Ambitious versions)

The “ambitious version” of Area Four would be using some kind of technology that really requires the instructor to understand, and be able to explain a particular kind of technology (using digital cameras and computer software to make movie shorts, for example, or creating websites). While many WMU ENGL 1050 instructors have projects where students are allowed to use such technologies (if they already posses the expertise or are willing to learn on their own), few instructors have projects which require them to specifically teach students technologies (which requires them to be (or become) expert in the use of particular digital technologies). Some of the important reasons why these kinds of projects can be difficult include the following:

1. Instructors worry about their lack of expertise in using the technology
2. Instructors worry about the time taken to learn (and teach) the technology to students
3. Our program does not have reliable, consistent access to computer technologies so such projects can be difficult to organize and execute.

I think that item #3 number three will be one we can resolve over the next year, as we use our new budget to get help in organizing and promoting our technology resources. And item #1 (instructor expertise) can then be resolved once we have a more clear idea of the technologies we have available. We can do training sessions and create tutorials in using certain kinds of technologies and software, and instructors can then use these materials to teach their students (which would, in some cases, also eliminate #2). However, I do want to note that item #2 is always a bit of an issue – instructors must always think about balancing the amount of class time it takes to learn a new technology. So it’s worth thinking about whether a given digital activity might become a problem – if it is taking up more than 2-3 class periods just to learn the technology, then it could potentially create a problem for instructors. However, if handouts and tutorials can be created and students can access the technology outside of class, this becomes a much easier process. It’s also true that different sections of ENGL 1050 sometimes have very different technology expertise levels – so if an instructor ends up with a class of students with some expertise, these kinds of project might be a more feasible option.


AREA SIX: Multimodal Writing Projects

Although I don’t have time to deal with multimodal/multimedia projects in detail here, I do want to mention that many instructors who do multimodal projects with their students find themselves dealing with a wide range of possible technologies and materials (and assisting students in finding, learning, and using these tools). As a result, it is worth considering the kinds of in-class activities that might help students gain the skill to make explicit decisions about production genres and then match them to the range of tools and resources necessary. Activities that might help to promote discussion of these skills could include the following:

• Students could be asked to invent a multimodal project topic (see Elena’s Adkins article in our reader for a good example of this process). They then select a range of tools/genres/materials and create a “Tools/knowledge document that outlines the steps an author might need to take to create a multimodal project on that topic. This would be a good preparation for students who would then be creating their own projects.
• Some of the work discussed above (where students move a single topic into different genres using different production different tools) can be great exercises for getting students to think about how these choices might affect a textual production in specific ways.
• Creating “potential trajectories” for a range of modes of production is a good way for a class to consider how different tools and materials can affect where a text can go, who it can reach, and what it can achieve.

Thinking about New Media

Thinking about New media
Training, ENGL 1050, Fall 2008
Joyce R. walker


I’d like to begin the discussion of how ENGL 1050 instructors might apply and adapt New Media principles to our writing instruction practices with the following quote from Anne Wysocki:

Because I believe we ought to strive to be alert to the varied materialities of our texts – to the particular materials we choose as we build concrete texts as well as to the wide range of structures Horner lists and suggest and in which the texts we make circulate and have wight – I desire to define (finally) new media differently from how the term has been defined in other places. I think we should call “new media texts” those that have been made by composers who are aware of the range of materialities of texts and who then highlight the materiality: Such composers design texts that help readers/consumers/viewers stay alert to how any text – like its composers and readers – doesn’t function independently of how it is made and in what contexts. Such composers design texts that make as overtly as possible the value they embody (15).

Wysocki makes explicit the idea that considerations of New Media do not apply solely to the use of digital technologies for composition, but to any writing practices in which the boundaries of material production can be made visible to authors and to reader/consumer/viewers. (so essentially, she is removing the idea of “new media” a applying to digital technologies because they are new, and arguing that “new” media texts are those in which the materials and tools of production are used in “new” ways – maybe digital, maybe not). For scholars in the field, this is an exciting definition for two reasons: (1) It just gives us more room to thinking both about non-digital productions, but also to think about the interaction of digital and non-digital tools; and (2) It allows us to focus on writing as an activity that encompasses many tools, not get stuck thinking only about binaries like visual/textual or print/digital.

For our program here at WMU, this new perspective on New Media means that the study and use of composition tools and materials is deeply embedded in the writing-as-ongoing-activity perspective we are attempting to promote and make visible for our students. Therefore, for our program, the use of technology as an end in itself, or merely as a way to engage students in currently relevant composition practices (as the folks in the MS article advocate), cannot be our core motivation. Rather, for our program, the use of all types of writing technologies, tools, and media become part of our larger consideration of the intricately layered interactions, intentions, and processes (both temporal and physical) of production.

Our approach to technology, put simply, can’t be something like, “Hey, let’s have them make web pages. It will be cool.” Or “we need to write digitally, because that’s what kids are doing today.” Not only do these kinds of attitudes not help us address our primary learning outcomes (the use of digital technology in composition – as a primary goal -- is not one of our learning outcomes), it risks moving us away from teaching practices that ask student to become more adept at making their own choices about the genres and writing situations they encounter, and to consider the kinds of tools and material practices they might use to make meaning in different situations and genres.

On the other hand, we do not want to dismiss technologies (especially digital composing spaces) as irrelevant to our composition practices – nor do we want to ignore the fact that many of the composing situations our students will encounter (as both members of the academy and civic participants) will require competence with a range of digital writing technologies. Therefore, our goal as instructors (and this can be particularly difficult because many of us do not feel as if our own digital literacy skills are very advanced) is to find ways to construct classroom situations (writing projects, discussions, and activities) that open the door to consideration of the materialities and tools that can be used in various kinds of writing projects, and the way these tools impact the trajectory (or trajectories) of a particular literate act.

A slight digression:

For me, this effort fits into a metaphor (thinking carefully about Phil Eubanks discussion of metaphor in his article “Poetics and Narrativity” ) is that as a teacher, my goal is to create, with students a conceptual space comprised of a giant pile of stuff – made up of all kinds of tools, and concepts, and materials, and relationships that can be used to produce, understand, and interact with texts. I Imagine this room as finite, but with an infinite circumference, entirely made up of doors. The doors all open onto spaces in the world where writing is happening. My job, as I see it, is to fling open as many doors as possible. As a group, we all sift through the pile, taking note of what we’ve brought along that might be flung upon the pile. We examine the objects, and create (as Bruno Latour might say) chains of reference, connecting the objects to the kinds of writing tasks they can be used to accomplish, and considering the greater or lesser importance of tools or concepts to a broad range of writing tasks. The key to this metaphor is that I believe that one we create the room, and once students know the room is there, they can always return to the room – they can come back, in-and-out, through many doors and bring new tools to the pile. They can pick things up and take them out, and ask other people how to use them. They can invent new trajectories for tools and genres. Although it’s true that it’s difficult sometimes to tell (as a teacher) who is in the room and who is not (and who might be sitting over in the corner refusing to look at all the cool stuff being piled up), that doesn’t change (for me) the nature of my job as a writing instructor.

The question remains: what are the practices through which we can consider, make use of, and highlight the range of tools and materialities; and how can we show our students how to see the ways such tools make boundaries and borders visible. The Writing New Media text (from which I’ve drawn the Wysocki quote) does a good job of presenting some clear assignments and activities that can be used to open up these discussions in the classroom. However, I think one of the most important things we can do (as instructors) is think carefully about how to embed these discussions in our writing projects – so that (like our discussion of teaching grammar and style conventions) students can see the choices available to them as writers, rather understanding technology or other composition tools as only as black-boxed items that pull into their writing at need, but which don’t have a significant impact on their production. One of the simplest of the ideas that the Writing with New Media text suggests is on page 27. It suggest giving students a short writing assignment, and then asking them to complete the assignment using crayons on any paper. I mention this assignment, because it helps me to illustrate how simple making the importance of tools and materials can be. To complicate things a bit, what about giving the students a topic, and then giving different groups of students different kinds of materials: some using pen-and-ink on ruled paper, some using charcoal pencil and an artist’s sketch pad, some using a computer, some using a typewriting (if you can find one!) some using crayons and construction paper – and perhaps some using magazines to create image-only collages. A follow-up to this kind of activity might be to then take the topic and move it into different genres (a science-fiction narrative, an article in the Enquirer, a five-paragraph essay, a poem, word puzzle), kind of like Meghann Meussen’s “genre juxtaposition” activity, which is not the ENGL 1050 website.

Another key issue that technologies can address (in terms of the trajectories of texts) is where writing goes in the world. Several words or icons chiseled into a stone have a different trajectory than a paper created on a computer for an history class, or a flyer about an event placed under car windshields, or a report that gets posted on the internet, or an item on a Facebook page. Asking students to explore these kinds of differences as part of class activities could help them to consider (and re-consider) the choices they make as they produce texts for class (and for classes outside of ENGL 1050).

In closing, I want to address a common issue related to the more active consideration of multiple materialities and tools in the composition classroom – and that is the idea that such a consideration takes time away from the production of more conventional texts (for example, in high school, the Five-paragraph essay or timed writing ). In many of the discussion that instructors of 1050 have had, we’ve considered this issue (echoing the thousands of writing instructors nationwide who have also struggled with it). My own belief, based on the “pile-of-stuff-and-a-bunch-of-doors” metaphor is that while attention to sentence-level written conventions is a key part of my efforts as a writing instructor (these conventions make up many of the best and most useful objects in the pile), I also consider attempts to practice and manipulate texts, genres, tools, and materials, to be a key practice (in other words, to be just as important – or rather, more important – than the production and re-production of a narrowly defined genre). However, activities can be designed that combine the tasks of “considering sentence level-prose conventions, working in specifically defined genres, and considering (and producing and experimenting with) boundaries. For example, students in high school could work to produce a single 5-paragraph essay, and then work in a different genre that requires a different approach to organization and thesis statement. Students can then consider carefully, and experiment with the differences. They could then take the same topic and experiment with different genres (as described above), looking at the way thesis statements are organized and used in different genres. The key, perhaps, to these kinds of activities is to make sure that “doing and experimenting” and “reading and thinking” and “reflecting and crititiquing” are all balanced parts of the work. Activities that combine these areas are most likely to achieve the learning outcomes for our program, and hopefully are also more likely to help students learn writing skills in a ways that are adaptable to a range of writing activities.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

What Matters about the History of Composition

History of Composition Instruction – Joyce’s Notes
ENGL 6690 Fall 2008

David Russell’s Writing in the Academic Disciplines is certainly not the only text that deals with the history of composition studies as a discipline, or with composition pedagogy as an evolving set of beliefs and practices. Not only do alternate histories of the discipline exist, but these other histories may draw other conclusions about the forces and attitudes that have shaped composition instruction throughout its history.

For example, John Brereton’s edition of collected documents related to the evolution of composition studies, The Origins of Composition Studies in the American College (1995), focuses more closely on the evolution of English departments, and the role that their conception of writing instruction played in shaping institutional approaches to teaching writing. For Brereton, approaches to teaching writing were greatly influenced by the evolution of English departments, and the movement from rhetorical training (largely governed by philosophy and classics programs) to composition training, which focused on the need to understand the English language, particularly in terms of reading and writing about literature.

Russell, meanwhile, notes that “the fundamental reasons for the decline of college-wide requirements beyond freshman composition transcend the specific practices of English departments or individual courses and instead lie in the dramatic growth in the organizational complexity of the American university and the shifts in values as its mission and clientele changed” (62). In addition, Russell focuses on the development of a “research orientation” for faculty (one which valued originality and the written documentation of new findings and ideas) and the role this development played in the evolution of writing instruction. Russell sees the development of this research orientation as an important factor in shaping the attitude that school writing should focus on content that is disciplinary in nature, and the perceived need for students to demonstrate the ability to do original research, to contribute to disciplinary knowledge, or at least to mimic the forms of writing that professionals use to do scholarly work. In Russell’s argument, the perceived need to move writing in this direction was based on the adoption of the German model of university research, and this perceived need then influenced the demise of the recitation model of learning that had previously dominated American Colleges. So one might say (although I would need to complete a better analysis to make a definite claim about this) that for Brereton the shift was based at least in part of the desire to focus student’s attention on the English language, while Russell might argue that the trajectory of the shift towards composition (which Brereton outlines in great detail) was seriously altered by “the new missions of research, graduate teaching, and scientific and professional instruction” (62).

That is not to say that Brereton and Russell necessarily disagree in their findings; rather, each scholar’s approach and study of different documents has led to altering perspective on the impact of the different forces that have shaped the evolution of composition instruction. After reading both Russell and Brereton’s accounts (and several others) it remains unclear exactly when certain approaches to teaching writing developed; for example, why, when rhetoric instruction shifted to composition instruction, did it also become restricted to a single course? And why did this single course become so primarily described in terms of remedial instruction, with “more writing” and “writing about content” becoming the privileged purview of only those students who showed that they were least in need of remedial instruction? Was this the only possible trajectory that could have developed from the attention to research-based writing? Why, if a focus on research required students to begin to emulate writing in a specific discipline did not explicit instruction in disciplinary writing become standard for all disciplines?

One of the key causative elements (which Russell discusses) in the particular evolution of composition instruction in the U.S. seems to be the somewhat paradoxical relationship among the following desires: (1) A search for generalizable writing skills and behaviors, (2) the knowledge (or perceived knowledge) about how these skills can/should be taught and learned, and (3) the relationship of these skills to the kinds of writing necessary in specific discourses. If Writing is done by all academic professionals, then all professionals ought to be able to teach it, but are there basic skills that students need to learn in order to be ready for such instruction? How are such skills learned? For example, one might argue that “correct grammar” is a necessary skill for all academic and professional disciplines (and although that argument would be factually incorrect, it would also be reasonable to a certain extent). Following the flow of such an argument, one might then claim that “Standard American Grammar” should be a required competency for any student entering into disciplinary study” (the idea being that if they already have this generalizable skill, they will then be able to focus on the various genre sets that make up the discourse of the discipline). This is not necessarily a poor argument, except that the research clearly shows that grammar is not learned in school at all – in fact, linguistic competence is a combination of the brain’s hard-wired ability to explore language and construct grammars, and the social environments in which a given language (or language variation) is learned. So in fact, one might argue that “correct grammar” isn’t even a teachable skill, outside of a given social context.

Once we move away from sentence-level grammar, the issue become even more murky, because as David Smit explains, “human beings learn language primarily by acquisition, by subconsciously internalizing what they hear and read; they do not learn language primarily through formal instruction” (p. 10, The End of Composition Studies). Further, when the attempt is made to teach a certain version of either sentence-level grammar or more sophisticated literacy skills, it is unclear what kinds of teaching/learning might best facilitate the school-based acquisition of these skills. This is perhaps the problem that many histories of composition studies eventually highlight, regardless of their perspective on the how and why of various reforms. Approaches to writing/communication pedagogy (and their various reforms) have often been based on often un-interrogated “common sense” knowledge about writing and communicating skill, often with a distinct lack of attention to how such skills might actually (and successfully) be taught. Perhaps I might go so far as to say “without a great deal of attention to either complex cognition or to similarities/differences between literacy acquisition and other forms of knowledge.” As a result we often know much more about what we think students should know, or what they don’t know, than we do about the tools and practices which might best help students acquire these skills (keeping in mind that “outside of school” is perhaps the best response to this question of acquisition).

So as composition instructors consider how to teach writing, we are bound by the evolution of university study, which determines the locations and the frequency with which writing is taught. And although different institutions have developed different ways of dealing with the sticky problem of student writing (including the development of Writing Across the Curriculum and Writing in the Disciplines programs), these various solutions might be said to fail in their efforts to move from what we want students to know (and knowing that what we want is for them to write well) towards what practices will best engage the kinds of literacy acquisition at which (based on research) our brains excel. In discussing various current approaches to composition instruction (i.e., feminist, expressivist, social-epistemic, cultural studies, service-oriented pedagogies, among others), Smit also argues that these pedagogical approaches all call on common sense rhetoric to make arguments for the efficacy of their instruction – that it is simply obvious that it will help students to write better if they can, for example, view culture critically, or learn to think about writing within some kind of “real-world” environment. Smit argues that instead we ought to be framing the issue in the following way: “in teaching our students to write, what is it that we want them to know, what is it that we want them to be able to do, and how should we go about helping them learning what they need to know and practice what they need to be able to do? And what sort of evidence would we accept in order to demonstrate the efficacy of a particular kind of instruction?” (p. 139).

For non-Writing Studies composition instructors, the explicit changes that have taken place in composition instruction (and the individuals, attitudes, and social forces that have shaped these changes) may have somewhat limited value. It is perhaps not as important to have a clear understanding of which forces have most influenced composition pedagogy as it is to understand that different attitudes about what a university education is for, how students should learn, which students can (and cannot) be taught, and the kinds of communication that are critical to successful work at the university and in the workplace have, at various times and in various ways, caused significant changes in composition teaching methods, in the time spent on various communications tasks, on the texts students produce, and on the learning outcomes that communication coursework is expected to achieve.

What may be most important (as a practical tool) for WMU ENGL 1050 writing instructors to consider are the following items:

• How does composition instruction play into/support/oppose/inform current beliefs and attitudes about the value of a university education? What multiple roles does it play, and how does the (or can the) composition instructor perform these roles?

•What beliefs and attitudes about language and literacy are evident in each individual’s exposure to writing instruction – can any of these beliefs be considered universal (or at least extremely widespread) and how do these beliefs impact writing instruction?
•What are the underlying beliefs and attitudes that are inherent to this program’s attitudes toward the teaching of writing? How do these beliefs connect to/oppose the larger goals/aspirations and moral, social, and economic belief systems related to the value and purpose of university education?
•How are the WMU beliefs and attitudes actually manifested in our teaching practices? (this is in response to Smit’s call, above). What do we think students ought to be learning, and how are we teaching it to them? (in the projects we assign, the discussions we have, the way we comment on student papers – or have them comment – the way we grade, the way we discuss and instruct students in grammatical, style and punctuation usage?).
•In what potential ways could our teaching practices be reformed to better match both what we know about how students acquire a sophisticated discourse community literacy, and our understanding of our program’s goals?

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Reading Notes (engl6690) Fall 08

Readings for September 11th, 2008:

It seems worthwhile to begin with this very large quote from an article by David Russell, the reading of which marked a turning point in my own thinking about teaching introductory writing courses:


To try to teach students to improve their writing by taking a GWSI [general writing skills instruction] course is something like trying to teach people to improve their ping-pong, jacks, volleyball, basketball, field hockey, and so on by attending a course in general ball using. Such a course would of necessity have a problem of content. What kinds of games (and therefore ball-use skills) should one teach? How can one teach ball using skills unless one also teaches student the games, because the skills have their motive and meaning only in terms of a particular game or games that use them? Such a course would have a problem of rigor beacuse those who truly know how to play a particular game would look askance at the instruction such a course could provide (particularly if the instructor did not herself play all the games with some facility). It would also have a problem of unrealistic expectations, because it would be impossible to teach all -- or even a few -- ball games in course. finally, it would be extremely difficult to evaluate the effectiveness of a course in general ball using because one always evaluates the effectiveness of ball using within a particular game, not in general. Ways of using a ball that work well in one game (e.g., volleyball) would bring disaster in another (such as soccer).

From David Russell's, "Activity theory and its implications for writing instruction." In Reconceiving writing, rethinking writing instruction. Joseph Petraglia, Ed. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Pp. 51-78.


For me, Russell's metaphor (and re-think about the cognitive uses of metaphor when we read the Phil Eubanks article later in the semester). I'd like us to discuss in more detail Russell's idea that generalized writing skills cannot be taught. I'd also like us to think and talk about the idea in the "big picture people" article that a metaphor for social context (how social systems, experiences and knowledges) shapes genres and writing acts should NOT be as a container (interactions -- like the production and reception of a text -- are not "contained" by a certain social system), but rather should be as the warp and woven of a woven garment (deeply embedded and actually and instrinsic part of textual interactions between people). Russell and Yanez discuss this idea on p. 336 of the "Big Picture People" article.

I also think the Ketter and Hunter article, "Creating a Writer's Identity...", is important for us in its discussion of how students can (or might) use the "opportunity space" of first year writing to consider the nature of school writing -- and whether or not we can even hope to combat the academic bias against "experiential knowledge" (as Erin puts it on p.325 of the article). Do you think this bias exists? If we think about a genre studies/activity theory approach to first year writing, what does it do (or not do) to break down this barrier, or to re-define student's ability to understand the gaps and relationships between "school writing" and disciplinary or professional writing situations? This also ties to the Russell Yanez article and their descriptions of how professors and students can/might/should negotiate, define and illuminate the goals and constraints of disciplinary writing.