What is/are the most significant thing/s that you learned which you plan to use in some way in the future?

I think the most valuable things I learned in this class had to do with the teaching philosophy. I loved learning how best to construct one, what was valuable to include, and how to personalize it without making it sound like a diary entry. The teaching philosophy will be a huge part of my job search in the years to come, and having the opportunity to research so many and then get feedback on my own was invaluable.

While I was writing my teaching philosophy, I read many others. I have always thought of the classroom as a forum for wider societal change, but perhaps never been able to articulate how and why I wanted to make that happen in my own classroom. Reading Carolyn Forche's teaching philosophy, in particular, moved me deeply. She manages to be personal without being cloying and passionate without being didactic, writing:

"As a Professor of English, teaching literature and creative writing, my pedagogy demands dedication to teaching as a "question of justice" rather than a "search for truth," and further demands that I resist characterizing it as "a transaction that can be concluded, whether with the giving of grades or the granting of degrees." (Reading, University of Montreal). I recognize teaching as my implication in a network of obligation, without orientation toward the quest for autonomy which underwrites the privileging of the teacher's authority, the student's consumerist choice, or the knowledge to be transmitted. I am dedicated to holding the classroom open as a space for critical and creative thought."

This passage informed my teaching philosophy, and my wider thoughts on pedagogy, for the rest of the semester. I also loved reading the teaching philosophies of my peers and professors. It might be one of the only documents we all share across the various disciplines here in the English Department.

I deeply appreciate the chance to have created this piece of writing and know I will continue to return to it, share it with others, and revise it as I move forward in my career.

Free write

I'm interested in the role of creative writing (particularly poetry) in the face of tragedy. I - like many - have been thinking very much about this in the wake of recent international crimes and the discussion about mourning that surrounds them. I think that poetry can magically comfort while also "calling out", can soothe human trauma and confusion by shedding light on the scaffolding that supports atrocity.

There is usually an outpouring of poetry in the wake of shared horror, and an uptick in national interest in the genre. Why might this be? Why might we desire poetry, in particular, in the face of indescribable loss? The poet Rachel Eliza Griffiths says that poetry "..speaks to the ways we are silent with each other." Rene Char said that “Poems are those pieces of incorruptible existence that we hurl at the repugnant maw of death, hurl sufficiently high that, ricocheting back, they fall into the world where names for the whole are found.”

I think all of this has to do with Mark Doty's idea of beauty as accuracy, and his notion that the morality of poetry is rooted in simple description - i.e., the more harrowing the subject, the more dignity it is afforded by straightforward language. I'm not sure I agree with this and have thus offered here a handful of poems that address public tragedies and mass anguish in different ways. I want to get your thoughts on how they succeed (or don't) and also on the role, or even responsibility, of poetry on the national stage when great loss is suffered:


Here's one by Rickey Laurentiis: https://newrepublic.com/article/120944/continuance-rickey-laurentiis-ferguson-memoriam


Another by Brendan Constantine: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/needs-many


And then one about Sept. 11th from John Brehm: http://blog.bestamericanpoetry.com/the_best_american_poetry/2012/03/pompeii-by-john-brehm.html


Lastly, Philip Metres has an interesting essay from 2011 about the demand for poetry post 9/11: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/article/242580

What is the thesis to your article for this course? What support will you cite to help you make your case?

Like Nancy, I do not yet have a central thesis but am gathering ideas. I've been interested all semester in how to incorporate creative writing into the first year writing classroom, and in whether or not it might be a more effective introduction to composition. We've talked extensively about writing not being a "trap" for students and ensuring they feel both nurtured and empowered by writing, especially as it is new to most of them.

With this in mind, I want to write about the intersection of expression and discipline, and how that can best be taught through creative writing. This is not to eschew form, grammar, or rhetoric, but rather to teach it through a more expressivistic mode. I've been exited by two papers, one by Danita Berg titled "Re-Composition: Considering the Intersections of Composition and Creative Writing Theories and Pedagogies," in which she explores how "Maintaining composition studies and creative writing as discrete disciplines may not be in the best interests of either field." She asserts that the incorporation of "traditional" composition genres such as the essay can be equally well-taught if introduced as creative writing. She also examines how the workshop setting, moreover, can teach social and collaborative techniques invaluable to student development.

I also enjoyed Patrick Sullivan's "The UnEssay: Making Room for Creativity in the Composition Classroom." His central question is, essentially, what makes writing creative? This is one I would seek to explore in-depth, if not answer, in my paper, with the help of these two scholars as well as some work by Michael Salerno, Carolyn Forche, and also some ideas from Lavona L. Reeves's "Minimizing Apprehension in the Composition Classroom." The last one I'm interested in because apprehension is an issue for writers across the learning spectrum, much less those new to it, and I think that's invaluable to discuss in tandem with creativity.

Review the learning objectives for this course. What's one thing you've learned that connects to an objective and to your future job?

I'd like to address two of the learning objectives for my discussion. To begin, I've enjoyed the critical thinking aspect of this course. The in-class conversation was always motivated by questions, with Dr. Rice always encouraging us to interrogate our own ideas about teaching, composition, and writing as an academic subject. I know that I've developed immensely as a teacher and student because I always felt that the classroom was a safe space for open discourse. Even the idea of a classroom being a "safe space" was valuable knowledge - much of the critical thinking in this class, then, is naming ideology. I knew I wanted a classroom to be safe but didn't even know I needed to term it as such.

I also see now how well-structured the class was. The form of it equaled the content. By this I mean, we were taught how to finely craft a teaching philosophy and a syllabus in a course where the teaching philosophy and syllabus of the instructor were finely tuned. I think Dr. Rice's openness about his own teaching and process motivated us to think critically about our own work and how to improve and apply it. Much of the coursework I've done here will be useful to me in the future, after careful revision appropriate for my field.

I was also interested in the grammatical information presentation aspect of this course. As someone who has always considered myself to be a staunch grammarian, I have appreciated the feedback about the place grammar has in the composition classroom. While important, it needs to function in concert with generative work and not as a trap that students fall into.

Identify where you think students may fail in an assignment in your syllabus, and how you will use that at a teachable moment by design. If you didn't produce a syllabus, discuss the relevance of this week's readings to your future workplace.

So! The hope here is, of course, that my course is constructed in such a way that my students will not fail any assignments. I worked hard to pace the course so that there is ample outlining and revising time, as well as a balance between more rigorous, academic writing and more expressive writing. This is not to say that expressive writing is "easier" but only that they get the opportunity to exercise different parts of their brains.

The few weak spots I could see would probably be in the personal essay, actually. It's their first major assignment and, coming out of high school, I can imagine they might have a hard time breaking that five-paragraph mold and really digging into the research-plus-personal-reflection aspect of a more scholarly, adult piece of writing. This is the main reason I have them write such an extensive outline and also allow them to choose their own research topics, but I can still see that first essay coming out flat or phoned-in.

I would use this as a teachable moment by asking them what pieces of writing move them, and why. Of course this would be an ongoing class discussion as my syllabus includes much "moving" work, but I would point specifically to the flatness within their writing and ask "Why is this happening?" I also think there would consistently be a tone in my classroom of "If you're going to do something, why not do it well?" I had a wonderful yoga teacher who, when her students would start to flag or give up on ab work or what have you, would always say "You're already here, in the room. Why not make the most of it?"

I suppose what I'm saying is that the writing classroom is always a space for motivation. There are less distinct "measurables" so we have to instead teach students how to expand out rather than reach up simply for a grade. This first essay assignment, I'd hope, would be some of my students' initial encounter with that beautiful moment in writing when everything comes together - background research, story, and word choice. How to teach students to aspire for something they've never experienced is always a hard road, but I think the writing classroom is the perfect place to do so. I want them to exhaust themselves on these personal essays, and I want them to feel proud of that exhaustion.

To sum up, then, the moment in my syllabus where my students might "fail" has less to do with a specific assignment and more to do with motivation and inspiration. I think that is the good fight I'd be fighting for the first few weeks, but ultimately writing would come to feel satisfying and even exhilarating for them.

List 5 terms you don't quite know yet how to define from our final keywords list. Next identify three in other students' blog you do know how to define, and comment on them there in those blogs.

Collaborative learning - I feel like I understand what this "means" but, especially as a teacher who values social constructivism approaches to classroom instruction, I want to know more about it and its history.

Empowerment - this term seems very broad to me. Does it have to do with the student's agency? Or is this related to other modes of empowerment in the FYC classroom?

Error -Type 1 and Type 2 errors - I am very interested in patterns of error and patterns of how we correct and score errors. What are the differences between Type 1 and Type 2?

Psychology of error - same as above. I need to delve more deeply into the "Phenomenology of Error."

Names I'm not recognizing:
Stephen North
Susan Miller

What is one assignment you will include in your syllabus assignment that uses collaboration and/or technology and/or other things Yancey, Selfe, Breuch, Bruffee, or Shaughnessey have discussed?

This past week, the curriculum was focused on revision. I thought what better way to discuss revision than to have a real, working writer (who isn't me and thus has a different kind of authority) come into the classroom and discuss his or her own revision processes. This would lend a whole new credence to the idea of re-envisioning over merely editing. 

Mark Keats, a second-year Ph.D. in Fiction, came and spoke to my students about a video essay he did last year. We started by watching the video essay and then he showed us the original drafts of his text-only essay and how it progressed into a video. He was meticulous in first describing his "global" and "local" edits to the actual text - that is, explaining to the students how a piece has to work as a cohesive whole (global) and also on a sentence level (local). They really latched onto this terminology and I loved seeing them explore the idea of a piece of writing being like a puzzle in which all the pieces must click into place, but also be their own entity. Then, they absolutely loved getting to see how he chose the images to accompany his words, how much work went into lining them up with the music, and how the overall effect was achieved.

I bring this experience up in light of this week's question because, based on my experience with Mark this week, I would definitely want a video essay to be part of my curriculum in a composition classroom. I think students are much more attuned to the concept of video on a day-to-day basis and much more, if not at least equally, accustomed to watching videos as they are to reading text. Having them create a video essay with Mark's ideas about text, revision, and alignment in mind would be very exciting. It could also help some students who perhaps aren't as strong at expression find an outlet for their creativity.

I also think it's valuable to allow students multiple outlets for "research," which would certainly be part of the creation of a video essay. Searching for images, whether personal ones or stock photos to support their argument in an analysis, can be a very reflective and generative process. Timing those photos to one's recorded voice also takes an entirely different kind of precision. Also, research like this can be more comfortable for some students who are not as at ease in the classroom or with the traditional strictures of writing. A computer lab or library or trove of newspaper articles and photos that relate to their topic (as my syllabus would be topic-centric) can be a safer space for certain students than the hubbub of class, as put well by Selfe & Selfe in "The Politics of the Interface: Power and Its Exercise in Electronic Contact Zones": "These spaces, it has been noted, have the potential for supporting student-centered learning and discursive practices that can be different from and - some claim - more engaging and democratic than those occurring within traditional classroom spaces." (p. 6)

Lastly, I would like to assign a video essay because the format appeals to me. Certain technologies elude me and I would struggle to grade them, but this one feels fresh and also applicable, so I would have an easier time as a teacher engaging with the results.

Engage in discussion about something that captured your attention over the past few weeks in the course.

So many things have been on my mind these past few weeks in 5060. I've enjoyed very much the open discourse we've created, the way we can challenge each other to think more critically not only about teaching but about the teacher's role in society. Analyzing the first year writing program at the George Washington University forced me to consider the weak spots in our 1301 curriculum. It also taught me that I can integrate the things I admire about their program into my own classroom. I never would have thought to offer my students "other" methods of writing, such as creating a  mini-documentary or podcast. I only with the structure of 1301 gave me even more flexibility to create assignments like this, particularly for students who are working in multimedia in their other studies and could "show off" their talents which maybe fall flat on the RaiderWriter page.

"Curriculum" derives from the Latin currere which means to run, or race. Sometimes it does feel as if we're forcing students to compete with each other, or with our idea of what "writing" is. I'm interested in all of these readings we have that try to create a metric for "good" writing. As opposed to other subjects - those with easily-measured achievements, obvious boxes to be marked - we are asking students to understand how to communicate. That's really the goal of a composition classroom, right? To create better communicators? Students who can express themselves clearly and also receive information with a clearer ear? I have begun to realize that I'm not necessarily teaching better writing, but rather teaching them how to care about writing. 

I would be remiss in ignoring the conversation we had in class last week about campus shootings. Though this is not part of our curriculum in any traditional sense, it is arguably one of the most important conversations we can bring to the classroom. Higher education is always changing, shaping to society's subtle shifts and fresh violences. The campus shooting phenomenon is no different. Teachers are afraid. People are pointing fingers. Rhetoric abounds.

I'm still not sure how to talk about this with my students but feel that I would be missing a valuable teaching moment if I did not. Some of the things we've talked about in 5060 will help me - to lead them with questions, to frame it from a rhetorical standpoint, to let them do the critical thinking - but it's still such a knotty, tragic topic that I know even the most measured conversation will turn emotional. But that's the challenge of teaching composition, in some ways. Writing incites emotion. We communicate to survive. These are not small lessons, and we shouldn't pretend they are.

Response to Leah Heilig's Extended Analysis of FYC at University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire

"Language is a method used to establish and perform individual identity, as well as form connections between individuals and their society."  - Leah Heilig


I'm hard-pressed to critique this analysis because I find Heilig's methodology so perceptive and encompassing. I pulled this particular quote to start my analysis because I am so impressed with Heilig's recognition of language as a performance tool, not just for writing but for human identity. She seems deeply aware of the powerful but also tenuous bond between teacher and student in the classroom, and how the teaching of writing can strengthen and reinforce students' ideas about education for their entire lives.

As both analysis and "job application," I think Heilig expertly toes the line here between pedagogical jargon and putting things into her own, more digestible words. Particularly as a candidate for a position in composition, this balance proves she is a strong teacher with a broad understanding of the history and current state of FYC in America. One of the most difficult things to do as a teacher of FYC is to put the "big terms" into "understandable terms" for students. By doing both of these things within her analysis/application, Heilig presents herself as a measured, thoughtful teacher and colleague.

As I stated before, I'm excessively impressed with Heilig's awareness of student bias and also their neediness. Even the most disengaged student is in that state because he is in need of something - affirmation, attention, stimulation. It seems that Heilig aims to create a classroom wherein students understand the broader implications not only of writing but communication in all its forms. As she says near the end of her piece, "Developing awareness, both of their own biases and rhetorical constructs such as context, exigency, audience, and purpose goes hand in hand with the development of their identity as students, writers, and citizens."

It is no secret that I see the classroom as a space for citizen-creating. I applaud Heilig as a more technically-minded compatriot in this belief, and think her analysis reveals an incredibly nuanced but also clear-cut understanding of what needs to be done in an FYC classroom, and how best to do it. Were I on the committee at UW - Eau Claire, she'd have my vote.
 

What is andragogy, and how might the approach help in teaching FYC?

Andragogy is the theory and practice around teaching adult learners. It focuses more on student-driven learning and evaluation than traditional pedagogy. According to the principles of Malcolm Knowles, adults need to know why they are learning something. Relevance has more importance, according to him, in adult comprehension and retention than it does with child learners.

Personally, I am teaching a mixture of adults and “children,” though even the youngest among them seems to benefit from finding relevance and connection to the material. Legally, they are all adults, but in one section I have quite a few students who are well into their late 20s and up to 40. These students have different motivations (to improve their career prospects, to right some wrong, to truly learn a new craft) than my freshmen who are generally more angled toward having the “college experience.” In this way, the older students actively seek to understand why they are learning something. While the idea of relevance is helpful when teaching my younger students, they are still accustomed to learning-because-my-teacher-says-so. They are straddling the divide of secondary education, where grades were the goal over knowledge and even skill. But this doesn’t mean relevance is any less valuable in teaching them, only that the approach is different.

I’m interested, then, in how to bridge this gap. Traditionally, a classroom would not have such a broad range of ages. While their needs are the same, their methods of acquiring knowledge and patience with the material are vastly different. For example, this past week in class I showed a commercial involving a Brady Bunch reference. There was a big discrepancy in the analysis of the commercial based on the generational gap, and what I noticed was that my adult learners were interested in discussing the importance of time-relevant advertising and age-appropriate references, but my younger students would barely engage. Even the conversation about the conversation was not relevant to them. I noticed that the younger they are, the less they think age will come. Would this happen in a classroom of all freshmen? Or, conversely, of all people in their 40s? What connects students, age or stage of life (which are not the same thing)?

Andragogy certainly addresses the immediacy of non-traditional learning needs, the fact that adults have a different perspective on learning because they have a wider perspective on life. This is why it surprises me that much of the scholarship around andragogy focuses on the need for relevance, where I often think that adult learners are more able to see the scope of relevance as wider. They can find their connection to the material without quite so much guidance from the teacher.

Regardless of these inquiries, I’m definitely invested in the idea of student-driven learning. I think it’s one of the most important skills taught at the undergraduate level. One’s education becomes one’s own responsibility, and that’s invaluable at any age, in any classroom.

Teaching Philosophy

“Go ahead and know thyself, but be warned: such knowledge means that battle has commenced.”

- Anthony Lane

The work of teaching is the work of shaping society. The craft of teaching English, particularly literature and creative writing, demands dedication to the idea of education as a form of justice. What could be more equalizing than education? It offers students not only knowledge but opportunity. This is particularly true with literature. As Susan Sontag said, “I prefer the mode in which truth appears in art and literature - a truth in which its opposite is also true.” This notion is liberating for students, especially when they have existed in a secondary education system which consistently values “answers” over conversation.

With all this in consideration, I do not seek to offer my students “answers” or “truth” but rather to let them settle into the life of an intellectual, one in which they can feel comfortable operating from a place of negative capability. I am committed to using literature as a vehicle for helping students erase their preconceived contexts and ill-formed identities and, from that place, they can work to create fresh, engaged, thoughtful literature of their own.

Most of the wonderful, devoted writers I know had an English teacher somewhere along the way say you might be good at this. The best teachers are not only instructive, I believe. They are not merely someone who has information you have yet to access. They are a lens, a filter through which to see your own aptitudes. I approach my teaching with the hope that I will offer students not only knowledge, but how best to process and then share their knowledge. I am particularly inspired by the teaching philosophy of the poet Carolyn Forche, who writes:

“I recognize teaching as my implication in a network of obligation, 

without orientation toward the quest for autonomy which underwrites 

the privileging of the teacher's authority, the student's consumerist choice, 

or the knowledge to be transmitted. I am dedicated to holding the classroom 

open as a space for critical and creative thought.”

When I walked into my first day of teaching at the college level, I had little to no pedagogical preparation. The structure of my Ph.D. was such that I would be studying pedagogic theory concurrently with teaching, not prior to it. My teeth chattered a little. I worried about my outfit. But as soon as I met my students - the real, human situation before me - the nerves subsided. I stared out at a room of faces that mimicked blankness but were actually hungry for me. The effortful pose of freshmen disengagement barely contained their frenzy, their excitement, their notion that college is a place where All Is Possible. Even if they didn’t see it, I could see it. I was already the lens.

The beauty of teaching composition - or any writing course - is that you can easily and subtly offer students information behind the information. The goal of composition, in particular, is to create better readers, better thinkers, who will then naturally become better communicators and - ultimately - citizens. It’s a chain reaction of critical thinking. What I’ve learned as a teacher of composition is that we cannot divorce critical thought from creativity. They are natural sisters in that they both exist to address and reframe reality.

As I’ve stated, he work of teaching is the work of creating society.  Within this framework, I adhere to a strict observance of grammar rules. Many of my students in that first class enjoyed taking a stance against proper English, clear communication, and certainly against engaging with literature on a deeper level. All of this is fear-based identity-creation. I brought in poems each week to prove to them they could understand the all-elusive poetry. We talked about the difference between rhetoric and simple information. If two people are saying, essentially, the same thing, why is one so much more moving? It took me a few weeks to convince them how easily accessed the inaccessible could be, how deeply they could connect with a text if they were flexible in their approach to it. The art of writing is the art of interaction, of emotion, of the intuitions out past basic communication. If we do not have a clear foundation for that, then our most valuable thoughts end up obscured or, worse, lost completely. Another conversation I tend to engage them in is the rupture of language. It is okay to be playful with grammar and spelling and syntax to make a point, but one must understand the origins of something (the English language) in order to effectively toy with it.

As I move on to teach creative writing courses, I would hope to structure my classes such that we would be actively engaged with all kinds of texts (creative, academic, and journalistic) each week in order to fuel our own creative work. I think language needs to butt up against itself, that poets should read technical writing and speechwriters should be reading short stories. Of course it is important in any creative writing course to focus on understanding the genre at hand, but I would be sure to introduce at least a few other genres and encourage my students to find the beauty in them and use them as inspiration for their own work.

I’d start the course with craft discussions about the fear of literature and of poetry in particular. The first chapter of Muriel Rukeyser’s book The Life of Poetry beautifully dissects the “fear of poetry” that many students have, even when they might feel drawn to it, and the excuses many make to distance ourselves from it. I’d love to start the course with a discussion of this essay so that students feel immediately liberated from the confines of poetry as riddle to be solved, as archaic form, as an abstraction. From there, I would assign them to write a poem about fear and obscurity. I think students are more comfortable, when starting out, writing about themselves. It is their own best subject. The discussion of their identities in a broader world context, as citizens, can spring from that. As Rukeyser says, “The angry things that have been said about our poetry have also been said about our time. They are both ‘confused,’ ‘chaotic,’ ‘violent,’ ‘obscure.’” One of the goals of writing is to make sense of reality, to communicate an intuition. And what more interesting place to begin than fear?

Each week would be devoted half to craft discussions like these and half to workshop. There are many different modes of workshop. I plan to structure mine as follows: students send work out at least one week prior to workshop. In class, another student reads the workshoppee’s poem aloud to let the author hear how his or her words sound to a non-authorial ear. Then the class discussion would begin by defining what is literally happening in the poem, moving into what’s working and what needs improvement. The workshopee would be allowed, at the end, to respond briefly and ask any remaining questions he or she might have about the piece. In my experience, this structure is the most beneficial to both the work and the critiquers, because it emphasizes process over criticism.

We’d also have a mid-semester course devoted entirely to revision techniques, one in which I’d emphasize that the generative qualities of revision are as explosive and exciting as the “lightning bolt” of the original poem draft. For example, my teacher Catherine Barnett once had us reformat our poems removing every article and conjunction. The meanings of words are only in relativity to the words around them, and this kind of concision was extremely exciting. We’d also work, in her revision seminar, with anaphora and they way cyclical, repetitive language can lend an air of chant or mantra to a poem that is struggling with finding its central rhythm. I find that often students are too willing to abandon a draft if it seems problematic or their peers are not excited about it in workshop, and a session devoted to revision would help them to be free of this notion, to get as excited about their subsequent drafts as they were about their first.

I also believe in a social-epistemic model of teaching. Obviously this is inherent to the idea of workshop, but I’d take it a step further in requiring my students to engage with each other. I’d have them do an exercise where they send each other postcards throughout the semester with a poem that fills the entire left square. I think this is a fun, challenging way to establish intimacy in the classroom, which fosters better communication. Also, writing does not exist in a vacuum. Every text is in conversation with preceding texts. I want my students to be part of the greater writing world, to continue their discussion of literature outside of the confines of a classroom once or twice a week. I’m also interested in integrating social media into the coursework because I feel that to ignore it is to ignore current modes of reality. As the poet G.C. Waldrep said, “One of the glories of 21st-century human civilization is that the arts have provided a variety of texts, sounds, and images to which one can turn—in love as well as terror, in the face of life as well as death.” I’d take it a step further than this and say that 21st-century human civilization has also provided us with a wealth of media in which to share these texts, sounds, and images.

Words have power. This is indisputable. Teaching creative writing demands commitment to the creation and appreciation of that power, and the acknowledgment of the responsibility that comes with being able to wield it. My teaching seeks to develop students’ sense of their own identity and place in society through active engagement with literature and each other. I believe that students can better understand texts when they are creating their own, and I believe that critical thinking is a function of creativity. The classroom should be a fearless space in which students learn to be forthcoming but also mindful, incisive but also tender. The creative writing classroom should always be a vehicle for change, and the best teachers of writing should also be teaching citizenship.

Based on your teaching philosophy (which may change over time), what are types of assignments you would include in a FYC syllabus?

My main goal in teaching a FYC course would be to emphasize critical thinking and its relationship to reading and writing. I would hope for the format to be recursive and based more in invention and communication than research. Thus my primary assignments would involve personal response papers, collaborative writing, and revision.

I think the main problem students face in any FYC course is a lack of critical reading skills, which results in the inability to format critical responses. I would have us read and discuss multiple texts in class - both as a full class and in small groups - so that they begin to understand why certain texts make them emote. Are they angry at a polemic? Why? Are they moved by a love poem? What did the author do to move them? Why do we laugh, cry, glaze over at different kinds of writing and how did the writer accomplish that? Even in my limited experience teaching 1301 here at Tech, this kind of discussion is always lively and sets a good foundation for further critical thinking.

I would then assign them texts that were different but similar in tone and style to what we discussed in class. I usually think Op-Ed articles are an excellent place to start because students can take a stance (agree/disagree). Once their critical minds start working then we can move further into analysis, which is much more difficult than basic response. At this point in the course, I'd assign short stories and poems that engage the students on an emotional level, helping them to familiarize themselves with literature and feel that it is not some distant, dull genre. They'd have to write reports on rhetorical aspects of these pieces (hearkening back to our in-class discussions of why they feel the way they feel after reading a text and how the author achieved that).

I would also like to allow them to write creatively at this point in the course. I've noticed in many of their BA1s that multiple students indicated an interest in creative expression but felt they were not good enough writers to do so. I think creative writing is an excellent developer for imagination, discussion, and critical thinking skills, so I would allow them the choice between crafting a poem or a flash fiction piece and introduce them to the workshop format. I think workshop is another way to develop critical thinking and discussion skills while also teaching revision skills, kindness in feedback, and community.

The final assignment would be a longer essay on a topic of their choosing, to be selected from the texts we've used in class. They would be able to write a more scholarly paper on one of the Op-Eds we wrote or they could choose a deeper analysis of one of the creative pieces assigned. The ultimate focus would be on their revision of their first drafts (Did they incorporate the feedback intelligently?) and on their ability to be clear. 

Lastly, the course would have a consistent focus on grammar. I believe one cannot effectively communicate if the foundations of that communication are ruptured. We would do at least one grammar exercise per class and have grammar quizzes. I think students are resistant to this because of the nature of modern-day communication (texting, Twitter, valuing visual-over-written-communication) but I believe that they actually want to be well-spoken, especially as they move out into the world and the job force.

Blog Post #2

What is the most difficult thing about teaching writing, and how do you go about teaching that?

I find the most difficult thing about teaching writing to be convincing students of its inherent value. Many of my students think that bare communication is all that matters - as long as they get their point across, the beauty or precision of the method is not interesting. Especially in today’s digital world where students are constantly “writing” via text, email, and social media, it seems they have assimilated the idea of transmission but not literature. Particularly with students who are pursuing finance or engineering, it’s as if it’s “cooler” to be a stilted communicator. What they miss, then, is the profound world of true interaction, of using words to genuinely persuade, incite, and connect. Because they think the surface of the lake is earth, that the snow is hard when they go to step on it and are suddenly buried up to the hips.

How do I teach my students how important writing is? So far, I’ve been working to remind them about times they were moved by words. Even if it takes a minute, I have been able to get them to dig in and figure out what makes them feel, what changes their mind, what makes them attach. For some of them that has been music and film (which leads to an interesting discussion about images and melody and how they connect with words) whereas with others it’s been books - everything from The Fault in Our Stars to Twilight to the Bible. Once I remind them that they have been more influenced by literature than they might even realize, it is easier to get them excited to create their own. I also use an old yoga maxim that a great yoga teacher of mine once used: “You’re already here, in this room, for an hour and a half. Why not do the best you can do?”

Beyond that, I appeal to their sense of vanity and professionalism to some extent. Who wants to be the adult who cannot effectively communicate? I show them various tweets and emails and we discuss how the people come of, how even text language can be a rhetorical choice (trying to look as if one does not care, etc.). We talk about what’s appropriate and not, and instances in their lives (legal matters, job interviews) when precise, intelligent writing would be necessary.

I’m also always asking them why. Why do we read? Why are books banned more often than films, songs, and other media? Why are they, as students, resistant to things that make them feel uncomfortable or challenged? This conversation is always interesting, even when it veers into territory I do not expect.

What is rhetoric? What is the history and theory of rhetoric? What do you hope to gain from this course?

Rhetoric is the art of persuasion. It has to do with the way we use language to incite, excite, convey, impress, cajole. Persuasion, as an art, has many different intentions. Rhetoric and the study of rhetoric have to do with how we parse out those intentions rather than just reacting. What designs does an author have on us as readers? Why do we feel so stimulated by certain orators, even when the content is not always stimulating? I’ve long believed that you cannot have control over the way someone reacts to an impetus. We are all too wound up with prior experiences and emotions for even the color blue to mean the same thing to you and you and you. But the study of rhetoric helps to streamline this wildness.

I enjoyed reading about the long history of rhetoric juxtaposed with the relatively short history of the English Department. I especially enjoyed our discussion of the Four Stages of Composition (product, process, post-process, beyond-post-process) because it gave me a workable framework in which to understand what I’m currently teaching and how I’m teaching it.

I also wondered how the decline in Classics since around 1883 and the rise of modern languages has affected our love for rhyme and myth. Rhyme and myth, so powerful in the Classics, are obviously still strong components of modern literature, but in less obvious forms.

I always struggle to read about uncertainty around “sufficient substance of English as an academic subject.” What could possibly be more important than the way we communicate with each other? What could be more nuanced, more exciting, more tied to every other field? Especially as we move through an era where people are communicating more than ever, universities have a responsibility to “hold down the fort” of academic English. How can we continue to improve upon a subject if we are not in touch with its history?

During this course, I hope to better understand how and why we make each other feel, what the “science of communication” is. Especially as a poet, I’m interested in why so few students read poetry. Why are they willing to spend hours with a movie or television show, or weeks with a book, but not sit with a poem for a few moments? What is the difference in transfer of emotion, of intuition? Through the study of rhetoric and its history, I think I can better understand how this gap widened, and how to help narrow it again.