The Music of Form

I really like Elbow’s analogy of writing and music, the two seem to have a lot more in common than one would assume.  Scholarship about comics often makes a similar comparison between the structure and layout of comics as being musical in nature, with a rhythm and melody that helps to unify seemingly dissociated elements.  It seems, however, that melody and rhythm would be rather difficult skills to teach composition students.  A piece of writing that is very easy and enjoyable to read has had a lot of effort and work put into it – and sometimes it seems that this kind of writing comes naturally for some and not so much for others.  How can we teach this to our students?  Perhaps using poetry in the composition classroom, or even using song lyrics and pieces of music as examples could help to illustrate the concept.

hooks

 Peter Elbow’s “The Music of Form: Rethinking Organization”

For me, Peter Elbow’s “The Music of Form: Rethinking Organization” enacted the type of dynamic “itch and scratch” that he proposes as the differences between a visual understanding of form and a temporal understanding. This long article kept me reading until the end because of Elbow’s voice and the narrative he tells. In many ways, I think Elbow makes a great point in noting that readers are stuck experiencing texts in time, which means some visual metaphors (such as “sign-posting” in essays or thesis statements providing a “map” for readers) DO seem to fall short, particularly in the type of article-length papers we write in graduate school.  Particularly challenging is his re-imagining of “cohesion” and  “coherence,” which we often think of as logical and linear (“do all my points make sense in the order in which they appear?”), but Elbow wants us to think of us part of a pull that draws your reader through your own thinking process (or a cleaned up version of it). He writes,

“Current notions of cohesion points to local links between individual sentences or sections. Links are good; they grease the skids, but they don’t pull. I’m interested in what we might call dynamic cohesion – where we’re pulled from element to element. Current notions point to global semantic webbing that make readers feel that all the parts of a text are about the same topic. That’s valuable (and not easy). But I’m interested in dynamic coherence where the parts of the essay don’t just sit together because they are semantically linked; rather, we feel them pulled together with a kind of magnetic or centripetal force. Dynamic cohesion and dynamic coherence create the music of form” (633).

His illustrations of music and the type of dissonance and consonance that pulls the listener into the experience of rhythm and melody in time are useful. They remind us of the oral nature of speech and what is lost when we attempt to visually ramify a text through bullet points, outlines, and the dreaded five-paragraph essay. The oral nature of language is highlighted when Elbow states that the most common way that “writers bind words and pull readers through a text” is through Narrative (634). Particularly helpful for me in my own writing is his point that narrative can be personal stories, yes, but it can also be a mode of narrating our own thinking that is similar (though in some cases less personal) than the exploratory essays we just completed.

 Bell hooks

Bell hooks’ argument for a critical pedagogy that creates a democratic classroom among an increasingly multicultural or diverse student body is, as she notes repeatedly, clearly influenced by Paulo Freire. Freire has cropped up in many of the theorists we have studied, which demonstrates how persuasive his negative description of the “banking system of education” and the class barriers that divided the bourgeoisie academy of those who have power from students who do not have power or a voice. From Freire, hooks develops what she calls a “transformative pedagogy rooted in a respect for multiculturalism” (40).  The term “multiculturalism,” which was thrown around anywhere and everywhere especially during the 1990s when hooks wrote this collection of essays, is not a label we tend to use in today’s discourse. For hooks, rather than being essentializing or divisive, the term “multiculturalism” appears to denote a certain kind of democratization that was rapidly happening within the university at the end of the twentieth century. In addition, hooks assumes that democratization of the classroom is a key goal for universities as a whole and a common good we should be working toward. She perhaps defends this goal in other portions of Teaching to Transgress since the chapters we have somewhat jump into the nuts and bolts of transformative pedagogy. Hooks writes, “Making the classroom a democratic setting where everyone feels a responsibility to contribute is a central goal of transformative pedagogy” (39).

Importantly for hooks, this responsibility to contribute does not imply that the classroom has to be established as the ultimate “safe zone.” Contribution can be contentious and messy.  Wanting to create a classroom of “openness and intellectual rigor,” hooks writes, “Rather than focusing on issues of safety, I think that a feeling of community creates a sense that there is shared commitment and a common good that binds us. What we all ideally share is the desire to learn – to receive actively knowledge that enhances our intellectual development and our capacity to live more fully in the world” (40). I believe her use of the word “ideally” here is very important, since we all might be able to imagine particularly difficult classmates or students who make us really question why that student is even at the university to begin with. We also get better sense of how hooks envisions this democratization practice which may be full of confrontation and disagreement in her chapter on “Confronting Class.” Hooks argues against the notion that a teacher’s primary concern should be to “maintain order” within the classroom, as this reinforces the bourgeois values that have been established in the university. From the perspective of the students, hooks argues that these same social pressures often silence “marginal” voices. 

The classroom is a very complex place.  There are many relationships, juxtapositions, and power structures at play, both between the teacher and students and between the students themselves.  This being said, and while I agree with many of the sentiments hooks expresses, her view of a community based classroom in which every member plays a productive role seems to lean towards the idealistic.  I understand the urge to use the classroom as a means of empowering the marginal and those who seemingly do not have a voice.  For many students, the college composition classroom will be one of the first places in which they find themselves able to express new and previously unspoken ideas, and of course we want to create an atmosphere in which this exchange can be made possible.  What must be kept in mind, however, are the practicalities of classroom time and dynamics. 

Are teacher’s to force students to speak who would rather remain silent?  I don’t believe I spoke much at all during my first two years as an undergraduate, yet I still managed to make much of my undergraduate career.  I have taught in a variety of classrooms – including classes with only international students, classes in a small Arkansas town, and courses here at a large university.  Each classroom has its own dynamics and adjustments must be made based upon diversity and student background.

Box Logic

     I really enjoyed reading Sirc’s piece.  The idea that the process of composition can be approached from something of a piecemeal assemblage of seemingly disjointed elements is rather appealing.  It suggests to students the interconnectedness of ideas and concepts, and perhaps reassures them that their writing does not necessarily have to follow the somewhat stagnant mode of construction that centers around a single overarching idea that forces all subsequent material to conform to it.  I believe it is the discovery of connections and links that truly sparks learning, and it seems that Sirc’s approach lends itself to such learning.

     Sirc’s ideas have cause me to rethink how I assign research to my students.  I have an idea that perhaps students could work in small groups on a smaller essay that they co-author.  Students would do their research individually so that they still gain the skills to utilize the library and internet resources, but once they have collected enough material they would meet to discuss their results.  Hopefully, when they bring these elements back to the group there will be discussion about how the arguments and styles of each source found by the students are interrelated.  Together they will compose a piece of writing that brings together all of the material they found individually.

Writing as a Mode of Learning

The notion that “writing is a process” seems to have become the motto of many composition instructors.  The question that this motto suggests is – a process for what?  A process for producing a research paper?  For writing online blog responses?  For composing a business resume?  Do we grade our students based on what they produce, or do we grade them based on their participation in the process?  Do the ends justify the means, or do the means justify the ends?  Emig’s article seems to suggest that we take a step back and view writing as a practice that we use not only to develop our composition and rhetoric skills, but as an undertaking which can help us to learn – period.

            I often tell my students that if I could make them read all through class and simply assign different readings as homework, they would ultimately learn infinitely more than what I teach them in class.  I honestly believe this to be true.  The act of reading seems to act somewhat subconsciously upon us, and we learn and develop almost without noticing.  What I believe Emig is suggesting in this piece is that writing functions in a similar manner.  Writing provides students with a mode or method of thinking that is alternative to internal thought or even peer to peer discussion.  I have found that brief writing exercises at the beginning of my classes allows students to get their thoughts up and running, and makes the ensuing discussion much more productive.

The Phenomenology of Error

As much as I try to avoid it, and as much as I hate myself for it, I am often “that guy” who automatically – and usually unintentionally – corrects someone’s grammar when they are speaking.  Usually it is stuff that just hits the ear wrong, like using “good” when “well” is the correct option.  This is rather ironic, because I do try to stress to my students that there is a difference between spoken and written language, and that many of the idiosyncrasies that we attempt to avoid when writing are acceptable when speaking.  I also attempt to explain that grammar is a constantly shifting entity and that good grammar alone does not make for good writing.

I really enjoyed how Williams framed his article as a meta-text in which a variety of grammar “errors” were purposefully inserted.  It seems to be the perfect exercise for demonstrating that good writing is not necessarily linked to perfect, or even consistent, grammar usage.  Williams is able to clearly and concisely make his argument while including a variety of grammar errors, which while it may distract those who are given to nitpicking, ultimately proves that good writing does not have to necessarily rely on perfect grammar.

I plan on using (parts) of this article in my composition classes next semester.  I believe that by introducing students to these concepts early on in the semester, much of the pressure and concern they have for grammar correctness will either be dissolved or perhaps, and better yet, put in a more productive context.

Kairos

I tend to encourage my students to write on topics and questions that relate to their intended fields of study, without considering that there may be more immediate problems or issues they might wish to address.  Crowley and Hawhee’s essay has made me reconsider this approach.  I need to keep in mind that students are not only taking my class, and that they have a wide knowledge base to pull from at any given point.  If a question or problem in one of their general education courses strikes them as particularly interesting, perhaps it is the place of the composition classroom to allow for investigation and critical thinking.  I like the idea of a “weblike relationship” that can evolve from various courses, assignments, historical moments, and personal insights.

In my own experience, classes that are taken simultaneously do converse with one another and allow for the moments of kairos that Crowley and Hawkee mention.  It may be the result of coincidence or happenstance, but it seems that if we could encourage students to recognize and take advantage of these moments, they would not only find composition courses more immediate and meaningful, but they will be able to relate these issues to their personal lives.  Perhaps a student is struggling with an issue that is completely unknown to the instructor, but in a moment of kairos is able to use the atmosphere of the composition classroom to express and potentially resolve the problem.

Community-based Assessment Pedagogy

I have always had a strong dislike for grading systems, both for their inflated nature and the stress and preoccupation they cause in students.  I really enjoyed reading about Inoue’s approach because it seemed to solve a number of the issues I was having in my composition classes, not only in regards to grades, but also concerning student interest and participation in the classroom.  It seems that theoretically Inoue’s approach would allow for a much more relaxed classroom atmosphere in which students are stripped of the urge to ask questions about how much a certain assignment is worth or stress over producing the kind of work they believe the teacher desires.  

Furthermore, given that students have such a hands-on approach to constructing and even deconstructing each writing assignment, students would perhaps be able to better understand why a particular task or project has been assigned to them.  In my own classes, I attempt to talk with my students about why I have assigned each writing, and what I hope they get out of them.  I stress the importance of process over product, at least for our purposes.

While I like that it seems that this approach would take some of the pressure off of the instructor, both in regards to grading load and assignment creation, it makes me question the exact nature of the role the teacher would come to play in the classroom.  Inoue quotes Condon and Butler as remarking “If you leave this course dependent on the teacher to tell you what your writing needs, then this course has failed in its mission.”  I feel that this is a very lofty goal to meet; everyone has questions and concerns about their writing, from freshman to tenured professors.  I think I might be interpreting this a little too literally, however.  Perhaps the comment means that the community-based methods allows students to develop independence and the ability to work with others, aside from their instructor, in improving their writing.

Student: Can you please edit my paper?

I have seen in my writing classes that students come into the class thinking that all I am asking for in their paper is "correct" grammar. In fact, every time I have conferences before a paper is due, that is their number one concern - if their paper is grammatically right? Or would I just edit their paper for them? Students who are not very comfortable with their writing often blame this discomfort on the inability to know things like comma usage, or subject verb agreement. I think most students are very conscious about their writing when it comes to grammar usage, sometimes to their detriment. I have had papers from students who consider themselves exceptional writers because of their grammar skills, but then I look at the paper and content-wise their paper has nothing. The students get so caught up in grammatical issues in their writing that they do not think that a good paper need more than just technically right (sounding) sentences. And of course, I am not placing the blame just on the students for their obsession with getting their papers edited by the instructor or the writing center tutor; this consciousness (whether good or bad) was raised in them for a large part by writing teachers. I do think that grammar is necessary for writing, but it cannot take the place of critical thinking. Micciche is right when he says, “The chief reason for teaching rhetorical grammar in writing classes is that doing so is central to teaching thinking." I really enjoyed reading Joseph M. Williams’ article “The Phenomenology of Error." I have often wondered if my English professor are reading my email and are cognizant of my "accidental" errors, and Williams' article explains the types of errors and the degree to which people notice it. I agree that we need to give our students some grammar skills that they absolutely need, but the more important thing is to make them aware of the errors that possible. I also think that each students level when it comes to grammar skills is so different that teaching grammar in a composition classroom can be very challenging. My question then would be--should we be pointing out grammatical errors in student papers?

"Making a Case" -Micciche

I thought of the other creative writing PhDs teaching comp when I read some parts of the article “Making a Case for Rhetorical Grammar” by Laura Micciche. It was interesting to me when Micciche provides the examples of how she gets her students to understand “how language is made and then deployed for varying effects” (725). Students have to record passages from texts of their choosing and then analyze how the grammar and content work together to convey meaning. “In these entries,” Micchiche says, “the student writer must not only mimic the writer's syntax, but must also identify the specific effects created by the syntax” (726). Micciche gives the examples of a student who recorded a passage from Rip Van Wrinkle and in her analysis talked about how effect of the dashes to show the character Rip's feelings. Another student analyzed the effects created from the syntax of some of the dialogue in To Kill A Mockingbird. I wondered if anyone had tried doing exercises like this in their own classes? It would be interesting I think if as part of an assignment students were to look at the syntax and grammar of certain poems and maybe try and rewrite them as a project? I could see it working possibly with stories that rely heavily on dialect. Or maybe they could take a piece of writing and rewrite it in different ways depending on the rhetorical purpose? Obviously, I haven't thought about this in too much detail, but it's definitely sparked something for me consider doing in my english composition classroom in subsequent semesters.

Also, as an aside, I was excited to see my old professor John Trimbur quoted from in this essay. In the class I took with him, he talked about the debate between Black English and Standard English in the composition classroom.

Is Black English, or “ebonics” a legitimate dialect? Is it a bad idea for teachers to use Black English to teach in the classroom? Are you oppressing students by forcing them to learn and write in Standard English? I'm particularly interested in the responses to these questions from the teachers who believe their classes should have a strong focus on grammar and, as I've heard in our class before, “error-free prose.”

One last thing, I found this quote from the article “Non-Standard English, Composition, and the Academic Establishment” by Dennis E. Baron in College English. I think it will prompt a lot of discussion about all this. I'll post it without comment.

“Despite their training, many students are unable to identify standard writing. In a recent study, I found many students classifying as standard passages containing syntactic and dictional complexity (qualities that they have noticed in writing presented to them as a model) which were in fact quite deviant. Furthermore, many passages that were rated by the students as standard in terms of conventional categories (clarity, grammaticality) were downrated when it came to emotional response. Students recognized standard language, or attempts at it, but did not necessarily approve of it.

Another effect of prescriptive language teaching in the schools is the passivization of students. Their language is continually under review by the teacher. Every recitation, every question, every excuse note, no matter how tangential to the educational process, presents a test of language. Spelling, as they say, always counts. It is common, then, for students to try to evade responsibility for their statements, lest they be incorrectly formulated...There is a marked tendency for students to use the passive voice and the indirect question in dealing with instructors. Those who cannot defend themselves from linguistic attack by means of indirect statement make no statements at all, retreating from the menace, or make any statement whatever, hoping that some relief may follow the inevitable confrontation.” 

Teaching thinking is a working from the inside approach to liberation and empowerment

Teaching thinking is a "working from the inside" approach to liberation and empowerment

"The chief reason for teaching rhetorical grammar in writing classes is that doing so is central to teaching thinking."  Laura R. Micciche, "Making a Case for Rhetorical Grammar."

Coupled with my review of Writing Conventions by Min-Zhan Lu and Bruce Horner, which also emphasizes analytical thinking,  Micciche's discussion on the importance of teaching rhetorical grammar as a means to, "learning how to recognize and reflect on language as made and made to work on people's lives is central to being able to use language strategically," has convinced me that as a professor of composition my most important work is not to teach my students "grid-walking" or to become a 5-paragraph essay zombie, but to actually think critically.  The "good" writing will follow.

I am convinced that Micciche is correct when she writes, "rhetorical grammar analysis can form the basis for wider analyses of civic discourse, enabling students to hone in on the specific grammatical choices that give shape and meaning to content."  Why, am I so quick to adopt this way of thinking?

Her assertion, "language constructs and reproduces oppressive cultural discourses that naturalize inequality," is consistent with my experience as a writer, as a poet and my understanding of the history of African Americans in the United States.  As a writer I have felt separate from this language for a long time - first, because I know that language imperialism (the annihilation of the "mother tongue,") is the one of the first acts of colonization; and, secondly, because on an intuitive level this language does not feel comfortable in my mouth, but foreign.

Prior to entering this program I worked for  20 years  as a communications professional and I am more than familiar with the way organizations and the media use language to manipulate public opinion and drive behavior.  I thank Micciche for helping me to realize how even grammar skills could be used as a "force for liberation," and empowerment.

When I was a teenager, my uncle who was my father figure told me there are two ways to change a system, from the inside or the outside.  These words have been my guiding principal.  So I got it when Micciche wrote, "Grammar competency has always been linked with social power or the lack thereof." To teach my sentences how to analyze language, including grammar, and to use it effectively is a working from the inside action.  

Post Title

I'll admit that I started this semester pointing out fragments and misplaced modifiers like nobody's business. I spent a whole day talking about the presentation and rhetoric, the messages and sentiments expressed by the writer in their attention to grammar/usage, and so on. I even told my students that I wouldn't respond to an email if I found an (egregious) error in it. I tire of these emails:

profesor Haynie i just got out of bed and noticed that it wasn't my bed it was someone else's bed i'm not quite sure where i am write now i wonder who's in my bed but looks like i cant make it to class today do i still have to turnin my paper 2day? #whatstateisthiseven?

So for the first two or three weeks I'm hyper-attentive to this stuff, and I'll substantially mark up their first big paper, hoping that it will freak them out enough that they'll be more attentive in subsequent writings. Weeks later I read the next paper, and nothing has changed, and I begin to despair. I still recognize the errors, but I don't call attention to it because it just takes too much time. Additionally, because I allow paper revisions, students inevitably focus on correcting those errors rather than revising for content.

The Grammar Nazi

The number one comment I get when I tell people that I’m getting my PhD in English is “Why in the world would you want to do that?” The number two comment is “I better watch my grammar then.” For this reason, I think our readings on grammar and error are incredibly apropos. Laura R. Micciche’s article “Making a Case for Rhetorical Grammar” is an excellent argument in support of the power and importance of grammar not only in communicating ideas but also in understanding how one idea connects to another. As Micciche states, “The chief reason for teaching rhetorical grammar in writing classes is that doing so is central to teaching thinking. The ability to develop sentences and form paragraphs that serve a particular purpose requires a conceptual ability to envision relationships between ideas” (719). By emphasizing the rhetorical aspect of grammar, Micciche redeems what is often considered a “decontextualized, not progressive but remedial” emphasis on “proper English” (718).  Instead, Micciche encourages composition teachers to teach grammar in context (“never divorced from ideological functions” [721]), which allows for grammar to be understood as a “tool for articulating and expressing relationships among ideas” (720). Her recommendation that students keep commonplace books seems simple but also effective. Having students “record” passages from other texts and then analyze the language and grammar of the passage is the type of careful reading that I would be thrilled if my students learned how to perform. Such assignments could be incorporated into a typical weekly journal assignment as part of the informal writing for a composition course. Overall, I think Micciche’s approach is both theoretically sound and practically productive since the goal is for students to be more cognizant of their grammatical and stylistic choices so that they can strategically situate the texts they produce. However, I do worry that making time for the type of depth required to examine texts at the level of the sentence consistently over the semester means that something else will have to go.

The concern of what to focus on and when to focus on it is somewhat the topic of Joseph M. Williams’ entertaining article “The Phenomenology of Error.” Williams effectively breaks down errors into four categories (which is a useful way of thinking about it): errors are committed and we respond to those errors, errors are committed but we don’t respond to them, an error is not committed and we positively respond to this fact, and an error is not committed but we do notice that it is not committed. Wlliams’ overall point is that there are some “errors” that are arbitrary and that most readers, possibly even individuals who are considered “experts” in grammar and style, do not even notice. So, our task as teachers is to very thoughtfully consider value when thinking about how or why we are noting errors in students’ writing. Williams states, “We have to determine in some unobtrusive way which rules of grammar the significant majority of careful readers notice and which they do not” (164). Micciche is attempting, twenty-three years later, to encourage students to be the ones to decide what is noticeable and what is not in order to appreciate the power of ordered language.  In some ways, this transition is a wonderful way to equip students to continue to teach themselves as they grow as writers rather than memorizing rules in a handbook. In other ways, it presents a challenge, as I expressed earlier, for teachers to carve enough time and make a persuasive enough case for the importance of studying sentence construction. Overall, I can imagine students enjoying grammar discussion in context, since it’s often something they are concerned about to begin with but feel is inherently boring to talk about. By demonstrating the immediate applicability of grammar, I think we could in fact make rhetorical grammar a lot sexier. 

Gramma Rays

I'm afraid I agree with Anne on this one. Grammar needs to be dealt with on a case-by-case basis, depending on where your students are and what they understand. These two articles don't seem to help us with practical problem of dealing with an essay that we are literally having trouble reading because the writer's understanding of sentence structure is so poor. Is this a class or cultural thing? Sometimes, but sometimes it results from genuine reading or conceptual problems (though, granted, dyslexic students with well-off parents will most likely have access to better learning resources than those that don't).

I feel like these essays are both approaching grammar with the idea that all grammar errors are equal. An employer might not notice that a submitted resume uses the term media as a singular, but she probably WILL notice a they're/their/there error, and will mostly likely make a judgement for it. Shouldn't students understand the practicality of following rules in a professional setting. Shouldn't they know that there ARE certain expectations if you want to be able to effectively communicate with others?

I think we also have to take into account the REASON why students are making grammatical errors; some are simply the result of sheer laziness. The ironic error Micche quotes--"However, only through subsequent assignments, however [sic], can we assess students' mastery over errors"--seems to be the result of a revision. In reworking this sentence, the author clearly neglected to take out the extra "however." Is this egregious? No, not really. But if a student writes "pubic spaces" instead of "public spaces" because he was too careless to proofread, isn't it on us as instructors to point out that these kind of errors make a BIG DIFFERENCE with how your writing will be accepted? Students also make errors because they might not know that two words have legitimately separate meanings or perform separate functions (conscious/conscience, allusion/illusion, ascent/assent). Is it presumptuous of us to ask students to fix these problems?

Grammarians Gonna' Hate

I hate grammar (this was my backup title). Throughout college, and a little in my masters program, I got docked points for my inconsistent grammar skillz. While I know that inconsistent grammar use disrupts communication on the page, I would often get frustrated that my misuse of grammar was the first aspect of my papers mentioned instead of my content. Nonetheless, I have come to realize grammar is important, and though I still find it rather repressive (don't write like that, write like this) we live in a world that loves to judge, and grammar is the easiest measure to use when looking for something to critique.

That is why I find these two articles wildly refreshing. First, let me say I have read "The Phenomenology of Error" before in a graduate class on grammar. We discussed the purposes of grammar in the composition classroom, and how it was often used as a blunt instrument to blugeon students with and to demonstrate how far they still had to go to become passable writers. We discussed the imagery of papers with blood red ink spilled across the page in wide swaths. Grammar can be a violent weapon to keep the ivory tower of academia isolated from the world through fear (note: I am being a bit over dramatic). What I like Williams' text is that he exposes the fallacy that grammar often is. When reading a freshman paper, the instructor knows there will be errors, and thus it becomes a scavenger hunt to find as many as possible to reveal to the student how far they have to go. Not all instructors are so sadistic, but some are. Obviously, grammar does not have to operate in such a manner, but what Williams does is reveal the hypocracy by interweaving grammatical "errors" throughout his text. When we read a published article we are not hunting for errors but reading for content, and he challenges us to treat our students with the same respect. I try to do this throughout my classes, and though I still point out glaring errors in grammar because I know other professors will, I do not really do so unless it is pretty much unreadable. My first priority when teaching is to put my red pen aside, and to instead challenge my students to think and communicate brilliant, original thoughts. I pretty much think Williams, particularly this essay, is absolutely brilliant and I really try to practice what he proposes.

"Rhetorical Grammar" was a new text for me, and I think it balances well with Williams. It seems that Micciche's teaching philosophy promotes putting grammar in a new context. Thinking about grammar rhetorically as opposed to a tool for promoting hegemony opens up grammar to critical analysis. I love this idea, but my fear is that it might be too specialized to employ in a one semester composition classroom. It seems that this type of approach, much like "Arguing Differently," requires full and complete commitment for the entirety of the class. An approach like the one Micciche offers would fit perfectly in the upper level grammar class like the one I took in grad school (although it would definitely work for undergrads as well, maybe as a 200 level course). Now the idea of a commonplace book is fantastic. Maybe it was because the author mentioned the Renaissance, but I think having students record quotes that seem significant to them really reinforces critical engagement with texts, even those outside the class. Maybe it is a fantasy, but the thought of my students walking around campus with little moleskins, recording quotes from other classes, readings, film and the media really gets me excited.

Really interesting thoughts all around this week. I look forward to discussion on Thursday (now do I choose an exclamation point to express my excitement, or a period to indicate my resolve)...!

Pet Peeves

I found "The Phenomenology of Error" really interesting.  It opens with a kind of rant as Williams claims, "The language some use to condemn linguistic error seems far more intense than the language they use to describe more consequential social errors" (153).  He makes the flippant comparison of using words like 'irregardless' or phrases like 'between you and I' with "break[ing] wind at a dinner party and then vomit[ing] on the person next to us" (152-3).  He goes on to cite his own hierarchy of insult as one in which grammatical errors fall below encroachments on personal space. 

This first portion made me think of a common frustration of my students and myself (is that a correct usage of 'myself'?): attempting to cater to various pet peeves of professors and even friends.  I recall a moment during my MA program when a few of my fellow students created a list of 'Banned Words' in the grad student lounge.  I believe 'performativity' was first on the list.  I've had students tell me about high school teachers who wouldn't allow them to have more than ten words in a sentence or use contractions or 'to be' verbs.  And sometimes I wonder if I'm leading them astray by not employing similar standards when I know other professors might do so in the future.  

Reading on, however, I realized this article is almost attempting to take a scientific approach to the world of grammar.  Williams references experiments where teachers, editors, scholars, and the like were asked to discuss their feelings about certain usages.  Williams points out, however: "The trouble with this kind of research, ...with asking people whether they think finalize is or is not good usage, is that they are likely to answer...Merely by being asked, it becomes manifest to them that they have been invested with an institutional responsibility that will require them to judge usage by the standards they think they are supposed to uphold" (154).  It's almost like the light experiment where light particles changed their reactions depending upon the ways in which they were observed.  I don't really know what I want to say about this last part other than that I think it is interesting.  And that what is interesting to me might be infinitely frustrating to my students: grammar and usage 'errors' seem vary from person to person and professor to professor. 

Grammar is Hawt

Not going to lie, I have beef with this week's readings. I feel like they are written towards teaching a very specific demographic of students, which is all well and good, except that my previous teaching experiences in rural, impoverished areas, or in states with very low public school standards, do not relate. Moreover, I feel that these two authors presuppose that students already know the "rules"--just not their violations--when in reality, a lot of students have never even been exposed to the regulations of standard English grammar. Williams expresses this declaration when he writes, "At the most basic level, the categories must organize themselves around two variables: Has a rule been violated? And do we respond? Each of these variables has two conditions: A rule is violated or not violated" (159).

I feel like at a school like the University of Missouri, in a freshman composition class, grammar is best taught on a case-by-case basis. Assume the best, prepare for the worst. Students often make a lot of the same mistakes as a group, so if 3/4 the class is having issues with commas or verb tenses, going over that as a class is helpful, rather than honing in on one student's very specific problem. It's also helpful to do hands-on activities instead of simply reviewing the rule. Kavita did a great job of this when I observed her class a few weeks back. She developed a grammar game based on commonly confused words, and she had her students define the difference between the words in a competitive group setting. The students had a lot of fun with this activity, and since they actually cared about it, hopefully that translated to understanding the grammar as well. I definitely plan to use this activity in a few weeks when we do our revision unit in our class.

The passage that I most took issue with in this week's reading, though, was in the Micciche reading on page 718: "Grammar instruction, in short, is decidedly not sexy but school-marmish, not empowering but disempowering, not rhetorical but decontextualized, not progressive but remedial." Ok, yeah, grammar isn't the snazziest thing in the world. But I disagree wholeheartedly that it is not empowering. At Bainbridge College in Bainbridge, Georgia, where I taught last year, my students were adults who had an elementary school reading and writing level. We worked at the sentence level; the most we ever wrote was a paragraph of ten sentences. Something I noticed, though, was that once the students started to learn and really master grammar, their writing confidence increased as well. They started putting more voice into their paragraphs, their writing become funnier, more complicated, more emotional, more expressive. They were learning the tools to help them communicate in the real world. What is more empowering than that?

[witty visual literacy title]

                I am very interested in visual literacy, and whether and to what extent it should be taught in the college composition classroom.  I agree with many of the sentiments expressed by Selfe, in particular the increased presence of visually relayed messages in mainstream culture.  However, as much as I enjoy teaching visual literacy, and as important as I believe it is for students to learn, I am plagued by a number of questions.  Is it possible to find a balance between the teaching of visual literacy and traditional “alphabet” based literacy in the composition classroom?  Is it worth teaching visual literacy if it means sacrificing, in any way, the teaching of traditional literacy?  Does our teaching of visual literacy undermine, or better yet, completely shift our purposes and goals in teaching composition?

                On a practical level, I was struck by Selfe’s discussion of teacher preparedness to actually teach visual literacy, and not just the ability read and interpret visual texts, but to create and compose them as well.  I am definitely not as computer savvy as I once was, and I am totally out of touch with many of the computer programs Selfe mentions in the article.  If we teach students about rhetoric and composition by having them do it themselves, then it makes sense that we would use the same approach to teaching visual literacy – we would have student compose multimedia and multimodal documents.  But as I have mentioned, I am not sufficiently prepared to assist students in using these more advanced computer programs to design such documents. 

Visual Literacy Makes Me Happy

The readings for this week really interested me because I did my exploratory paper on this topic. It also seems in direct contrast to the Emig we read earlier in the semester, in which she characterizes alphabetic communication as "special" -- more special than anything else, apparently -- and uses this as an argument as to why writing should be the central focus of composition classes. I wasn't sure I agreed with her then, and I really don't agree with her now.

So, some of the questions I raised at the end of my exploratory paper get sort-of answered here, I think in the Wysocki more so than the Selfe. Wysocki's activities are particularly fascinating, and I feel like they challenge students to do more than just "make a visual argument" (which I think still isn't fully described in a way that makes me feel confident I could successfully teach it to students). Wysocki calls for activities that don't require Adobe Photoshop while still asking students to engage directly in the visual world around them. Most importantly, she requires that they question the visual world around them -- and this is something that I think is exceptionally important. Our students are overwhelmed in a sea of constant visual assaults: TV, internet, movies, comics, political ads, ads on billboards, Facebook, products for consumption. How do we teach them to deal with that and to evaluate what they see without being absorbed into the Borg?

I also like this because it ventures seamlessly into psychological and sociological realms as well as rhetorical ones. It poses the idea that these things cannot be separated from one another.

Still, I'm a little wary about all this stuff. I've asked this question before in class, but I'll ask it again: Are we edging out into material that other fields of study will view as overstepping our bounds? Will the computer design folks and the sociologists see what we're doing and roll their eyes, or feel as though we're teaching things we don't have the background to teach?

conCEPTS that challenge our preCEPTs and perCEPTions

conCEPTS that challenge our preCEPTs and perCEPTions

Wysocki's prose is not easy to read.  Yet her ideas on "Opening New Media to Writing," are compelling and the exercises that follow her argument look like they would be fun.  What I found particularly interesting, however, are her ideas on how, "new technologies do not automatically erase or overthrow or change old practices," and that, quoting Cynthia Selfe,  in a "postmodern world, new media literacies may play an important role in identity formation, the exercise of power, and the negotiation of new social codes."  Wysocki asks us, "how the visual presentation of books "fits into and reinforces our cultural practices of authority, standardization, and mass production," and that we should ask questions of our texts.  There is that wonderful section where she asks, "How might the straight lines of type we have inherited on page after page of books articulate to other kinds of lines, assembly lines and lines of canned products in supermarkets and lines of desks in classrooms?  How might these various lines work together to accustom us to standardization, repetition, and other processes that support industrial forms of production? I'd like to extend this question not just the lines on the paper but the lines in the structure of the sentence and the lines in the structure of the paragraph.  If we are to allow, exercise and encourage producing or interpreting text on paper - let's look at the very sentence itself - the linear narrative that dominates our prose.  Quoting Wysocki, "If we are serious about seeing our positions in the texts we make for each other, then we'll need strategies for generous reading, strategies that include but also help us look beyond the naturalized rules and guidelines for how we present selves in print.  And since this is a fractured world I would like to show that fissure in not just the visual manifestation of the sentence but in its very word order.

For the "Arguing Rhetorically" I have assigned one group to put together a Web blog using the deliberative approach to the argument essay.  We are both in unfamiliar territory.  I have advised them to look over the chapter in the Allyn & Bacon on "Analyzing Images," and to look at design books on color, font sizes and other ways to communicate their messages.  I have advised them to write in chunks and to talk to each other, as in a conversation - a call and response.  We'll see how it goes.

Wysocki's exercises definitely help to break down precepts and help us to see differently.  I especially appreciated the activity for the visual argument and her comment to her students, "that there are not fixed definitions of what constitutes a "visual argument," so that they will have to work with what they understand "argument" and "the visual" to be--but...that the visual argument they build has to stand on its own.  Imagine that no right answer but discovery.

Digital Humanities, anyone?

This week’s readings kept reminding me of the digital humanities panel that we had on campus a few weeks ago and also the discussions we have had about technology in the classroom. My exploratory paper was actually trying to look into some of this new media as an aid to enhance learning in a writing classroom. Also, our next assignment is also related to new media, and I have had some heated debates with some of my friends about the use of new media in the classroom, which made it a more interesting reading week for me. Some of the exercises suggested Anne Frances Wysocki looked very interesting to me, and I would really like to use them in my classroom, and see if it works like it does for Wysocki’s classroom. I really thought the article by Wysocki was really clever. I am not sure if I understand the part about decreased emphasis on content and more emphasis on the medium, but I guess, when we are working with the new media, the rhetorical purpose of the medium and the form that the content uses becomes highly influential on the message/content’s overall reception. Of course, Wysocki wants us to emphasize new media more in our composition classroom, but it only comes out as an ulterior motive. The argument makes it seems like just the integration of new media into the classroom is not what Wycoski is ultimately preaching.

hooks is right!

I have been a big proponent of bell hooks’ ideas and got really excited when I saw the reading for the week. Of course, I got so excited about it that I forgot that I had to post a blog on the reading. So here I am, a little late, but with my input on the article. I had read this article about 2 years ago, when I was teaching at a very rural community college, and the idea of a multicultural, diverse student body had seemed like a distant, utopian dream. Here at MU, I have the opportunity to make more use of hooks’ advise about “making the classroom a democratic setting where everyone feels a responsibility to contribute to a central goal of transformative pedagogy” that is unavoidable in the 21^st century. Her idea of creating a learning environment that creates a sense of commitment and a common good that binds us is the ultimate ideal that we all should strive to achieve. The classroom for hooks’ seems to be more like a communal space where students should be open to share ideas that may not be considered non-threatening to classroom order, but this sharing of ideas, desire to learn, is what will enhance our intellectual development and our capacity to live more fully in the world. I have noted in my classrooms that the practice of making students write out their ideas and then share it with the class does help in subverting some of the racial, gender or class related inhibitions that may be there at the beginning of the semester.

The Rhetorical Situation of New Media

This week’s readings have been helpful for me in conceptualizing the multimodal assignment I would like to do next semester in my possible “Arguing Differently” focused English 1000 course. Specifically, I am interested in Anne Frances Wysocki’s focus on the materiality of all texts, as it reminds me that students need to be able to study texts-as-objects before they can begin to analyze and compose “traditional” and “new media” texts. In the classroom, I am interested in some of her shorter exercises, such as the “materialities of seeing” exercise in which a stranger walks into the classroom and students are asked to recall what they can about the individual or her “justifying choices” assignment, which asks students to literally analyze and reflect on ever material choice they make concerning formatting, placement, emphasis, paper size, font choice, color, etc. in a formal piece of writing. Along these same lines, I am interested in Cynthia Selfe’s lesson plans and suggested assignments for visual essays that not only include guidelines but also templates for student responses and a  follow-up reflection that asks designers/composers to judge their own success as creating a visual literacy narrative or visual argument.

With all of this said, I still found myself bogged down in Wycsocki’s jargon. Places where Wycsocki expresses what seems to be evident and accepted in Composition and Rhetoric and could therefore be expressed in a much more abbreviated fashion include passages such as the following:

But we do understand, now, that writing, like all literate practices, only exists because it functions, circulates, shifts, and has varying value and weight within complexly articulated social, cultural, political, educational, religious, economic, familial, ecological, political, artistic, affective, and technological webs (you can name others, I am sure)…. (second page)

But why would we need to because Wycsocki has taken it upon herself to name pretty much all the ones we could think of, all in an attempt to emphasize the complex matrix of the rhetorical situation. Here is another example involving the concept of “interactivity”:

Manovich’s words can encourage us to consider the various and complex relations we can construct with readers through the ways readers are asked to move through texts we build, whether that is by turning pages, clicking links, making conceptual connections between a photograph on one screen and poem on another, or solving a puzzle that opens the gate to the next level of a gametext. (page?)

I am probably being too critical here, but it seems like the notion of the audience’s interaction with the text (even at the level of materiality) goes back far enough that we don’t really need to re-establish it – I’m thinking Bakhtin here (many of you could probably name multiple other discussions). I do see why Wysocki feels it is necessary to argue that we “define ‘New Media Texts’ in terms of their materialities,” which essentially involves foregrounding materialities and forces us to consider the how and why of “new media” in the first place. In other words, Wysocki is encouraging us to be incredibly thoughtful in understanding how we design texts in multiple media because she maintains these texts situate us in the world.

In many ways, Selfe’s “taking up the challenges of visual literacy,” as the subtitle of her chapter states, continues the task of defining “visual literacy” and attempting to suggest a composition teacher’s approach toward this type of literacy, not as a new, hip composition-classroom novelty but instead as strategic broadening of “texts” and “literacy” in the twenty-first century. My main objection to Selfe is the same objection I had the first time I read Selfe in my Teaching Writing course at SLU. She chides those in “our profession” (which, I take to mean here those in the field of Composition and Rhetoric but also in the broader studies of the English Department in general) for being suspicious of visual forms. She writes “When English composition teachers have thought to bring visual forms into their classes—a practice which they have carried on for at least forty years – they have typically presented them as second-class texts: either as ‘dumbed down’ (32) communications that serve as ‘stimuli for writing but […] no substitute for the complexity of language’ (22) or as texts related to, but certainly not on an equal footing with, the “’real’ work of the course.” Let’s face it -- I think reservations from some in the field have a point. Visual texts do communicate in different ways from the written word. This doesn’t mean they’re less valuable, it just means they are going to emphasize different things. Even more so, however, I think Selfe should allow for the fact that there are entire departments (namely Studio Art and Design and its many related fields) that precisely solely deal in “visual literacy” (though, I doubt they would refer to it as “literacy”), which begs the question of why, exactly, English composition teachers should be pushing so hard for appropriating those techniques entirely.  These questions become even clearer when I consider that for all of the “visual literacy” assignments Selfe suggests, there is always a reflective element that forces designers/composers and audience/viewer to translate into words how affective a specific visual presentation is based on categories that sound awfully close to the types of standards we apply to written texts (impact, coherence, salience, organization). Obviously, I see the benefit of focusing on “visual literacy” to some extent and plan to do so both this semester and next. But I keep kicking myself for not asking Selfe these questions in person when I met her last March at the CCCC. She’s a delightfully nice woman, by the way.

What did you all think of the exercises in Wysocki?

Has anyone tried to do a version of any of the exercises in “Opening New Media To Writing” by Anne Frances Wysocki? The postcard one is the most familiar and seems to work the best. I was going to have students bring in their our photographs when we get to the last unit (creating a visual essay). For homework they will have previously read a chapter from Roland Barthes Camera Lucinda and we were going to talk about images and their meanings. I think there are some similarities between this activity and the one Wysocki suggests, and I think it could work well, but it's the others that I have concerns about, especially the eye-witnessing one. I don't know about students in any of your classes, but mine don't take well to classes that are structured out of the ordinary. Although the activity does seem entertaining, I'd be worried that after all was said and done, the students wouldn't be able to make the connection with the concept trying to be expressed. I mean, maybe. That's why I'm curious if anyone has done something like this? Is anyone considering doing this exercise in their own class? What do you all think?

New Media Literacy

Very clever Wysocki... To take something scary and exclusive like "new media" and to incorporate both digital and print mediums into a larger, inclusive definition is a very smart move. I find myself thinking back to a presentation I attended with Dr. Kathleen Hayle (who is a wonderful person by the way and one of the front runners of post-humanism literary theory). Hayle discussed how English departments needed to move away from the traditional demarcation of different literary periods in time periods (Renaissance, Medieval, modern, victorian etc.) and instead move to a medium based approach. Thus, instead of saying I was studying Renaissance literature, I might study the manuscript, or the early printing press media etc. I think it is a bit of a pipe dream and I am not sure what this new arrangement offers but I think it would sit well with Wysocki. It seems that Wysocki wants us to spend less time arguing over content and more time examining how the medium and form the content is displayed on effects the message within. I don't know if my summary makes sense, but I like the heart behind Wysocki's message.

Why do I have everything left justified in my paper.

Why
        does
               every
                       word
                               follow
                                       the last
                                                   ?

Nonetheless I always fall back to the form I know and am comfortable with at the end of the day, but it is interesting to think about. We think about form, style and format in poetry but rarely in composition class (as Anne rightly points out). I like that Wysocki is not just trying to get digital media infused into the composition course, although of course that is a sub-objective. Instead, she is trying to ask us to recognize the constrictive force of medium and form on our writing regardless of whether we acknowledge it or not, so we might as well acknowledge it. In that vein I thought the crayon activity was awesome (pg. 27)! Any activity that uncovers cultural pre-conditioning (crayons are childish and silly) is a favorite of mine. I am not sure how the subsequent exercises would go over in class (redesign the computer for cockroaches?). I also thought the idea of a visual argument showcase with the students rotating between pieces and guessing at the arguments was really interesting and something I might try when I transition into my unit IV multi-model argument.

Selfe seemed to be playing off of Wysocki's same arguments. I thought that her evaluation hand-outs were really interesting and would probably work really well in a peer review situation (they were visual themselves, which was interesting). I also thought her assignment that adapted a research paper and transformed it into a visual argument was very similar to what I plan on suggesting for my students multimodel essay. Overall, I thought these readings were both theoretically rigorous and very practical!

Now, I dare someone to blog on this article just using visual media!