If Brookfield’s article on reflective teaching makes one aware of the importance of being constantly vigilant about one’s assumptions about teaching, the two articles on table for today seem to focus on a similar problem from the opposite spectrum—reflective learning, and how teachers need to be aware of its possibilities and affordances. In a way, these articles challenge the understated or unstated assumptions we harbour while teaching or being taught, and make the “darkness visible” (to use Milton’s words from Paradise Lost that so famously ticked T.S. Eliot off) in both the cases. Before reading Ruth M. Mirtz’s article on “indirect” talk during peer responses, I had no idea what earthly purpose the talk about baseball games or favourite hair salons that serve ‘rich-people candy’ as a means of attracting customers (overheard during one of the class observations, not made-up) could have served in forming effective peer response to writing assignments. It is important to know where the critic (and hence, the critique) is coming from in order to evaluate its ultimate importance, and Mirtz makes the point very well in her essay that this seemingly unnecessary and futile occupation has its own uses. For example, the group dynamic of Cynthia’s group is set on a particular tone when all of its members arrive at the conclusion after some ‘indirect’ off-task discussion that there are “vast differences between women and men” (109)—an extremely unsurprising, unoriginal and sad consensus that is bound to be importantly reflected in the group’s peer responses. Mirtz raises two very important questions—what is the role of the teacher in the context of ‘indirect’ talk in peer responses, and what kind of indirect talk is really ineffective? The first question she answers in the context of lessening teacher control and encouraging student empowerment: to forcibly steer even peer response or formulate it within such rules as it becomes a reflection of the teacher’s own purposes—“ channeling peer dynamics toward teacher-mandated guidelines” (DiPardo and Freedman, qtd. in 104)—is a trap the teachers should avoid. However, I wandered to what extent she fails to follow her own advice after reading that in the light of her observations with Cynthia’s group, she “give[s] the students specific tasks which speed up the process[es]” (115) of peer response. The second question is answered by a useful distinction between fruitful and fruitless indirect talk (112-113). The most exciting piece of insight by Mirtz, however, comes when she decides to make the students conscious of what they are doing by helping to interpret their indirect talk for them (114).
Peggy M. Woods’ article was an eye-opener in the same vein. I recognized the inadequacy of some of my own recent peer responses that failed to move beyond the standard “This is good” formulation. The truth is, it requires hard work to come up with intelligent constructive criticism—something I also noted recently by comparing the two responses I received recently for my mid-term papers. One was very helpful, pointing out the exact areas I needed to focus on for improvement, while the other did little more than pointing out obvious shortcomings. What Woods points out in her essay is that the necessary hard work should not be shirked while giving peer response. The key idea is to avoid focussing on the writer, and focus on the writing instead (191), something also noted by Glynda Hull et al—although only on negative terms—in the article on remediation when they historicize the character of the ‘school failure’. The moot question I ended up with after reading the essay was—what do I do with the insights gained from this essay while teaching? I could see the application quite clearly while providing peer response myself, but how do I apply them while teaching? One answer is given by Woods herself in the conclusion—as teachers, one should avoid falling “into a routine of responding” (195). Another seems to be including one’s students in this project of making darkness visible, both from the teaching and learning sides of the spectrum.
Peggy M. Woods’ article was an eye-opener in the same vein. I recognized the inadequacy of some of my own recent peer responses that failed to move beyond the standard “This is good” formulation. The truth is, it requires hard work to come up with intelligent constructive criticism—something I also noted recently by comparing the two responses I received recently for my mid-term papers. One was very helpful, pointing out the exact areas I needed to focus on for improvement, while the other did little more than pointing out obvious shortcomings. What Woods points out in her essay is that the necessary hard work should not be shirked while giving peer response. The key idea is to avoid focussing on the writer, and focus on the writing instead (191), something also noted by Glynda Hull et al—although only on negative terms—in the article on remediation when they historicize the character of the ‘school failure’. The moot question I ended up with after reading the essay was—what do I do with the insights gained from this essay while teaching? I could see the application quite clearly while providing peer response myself, but how do I apply them while teaching? One answer is given by Woods herself in the conclusion—as teachers, one should avoid falling “into a routine of responding” (195). Another seems to be including one’s students in this project of making darkness visible, both from the teaching and learning sides of the spectrum.
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