Trying to Put it Together

I'm still considering what my "theory of teaching" is and will become. I have been strongly influenced in the past few weeks by several of the readings. In response to Brian Huot's chapter in Practice in Context, I have to say "write it out!" I have always, on a tacit level, suspected that this must have something to do with evolving a writer's abilities. In my own experiences as a student, I have found this to be resoundingly true. When I was young, I wrote almost compulsively. I have had a discussion of this with some of the other members of this class, and discovered that they have had similar experiences. But it comes down to this: the more I write, the better I become at it. After I left undergrad, I went "out in the world," to work in the mortgage business, in which I did little writing, and if I did write it was limited to form letters and memos. I came back to school after six years and discovered that I was quite rusty. Of course we all know how much writing is involved in a graduate level program in English, so of course, my writing has improved by leaps and bounds since then. This must certainly be true for more basic writers as well. Since considering this, it has become a part of the theory that I will require lots and lots of writing. I definitely want to do informal dialogue journals and cover letters or memos that will be included with drafts. I like this idea of this not only because it forces them to write more, which forces improvement, but also because as I have read this week's readings, it becomes more and more apparent to me that I must respond, and it's better to respond more rather than less.

Also in Huot's chapter, I like the idea of responding with correctness. In a way, it seems like this is more obvious than at first it seemed. If we assume that our students are cognitively deficient because they make errors, it would make sense that we should get out the red pens and scrawl "awk" and "comma" etc. on their papers and in their journals, but what if we consider that maybe....just maybe...(is it really such a long-shot??) that our students are not cognitively impaired and that they can and will respond to seeing something written in the "correct" form next to a mistake that clearly is in the same format as the correct response from us? By thinking that our students cannot understand what this probably means, I think we're underestimating their cognitive abilities to a point where it's just insulting. If you do this orally with an elementary school student, they would probably be likely to respond. I think that the fact that many teachers have not tried or thought of this method reveals some underlying assumptions that are quite unfounded. I see no need to go crazy and "call them out" on things like that when maybe just a little nudging in the right direction would serve them better and allow them to keep their dignity.

On a related note, and in connection with writing it out, I can't really understand why anyone would want to teach a freshman writing course where the only writing activities are the papers, it makes it seem like a real "do or die" situation, which I'm sure would cause some anxiety, and if it's not necessary or serving a purpose, why put them through it? So I hereby declare "write it out!" Give them a little practice where their grade doesn't hang in the balance, and further, give them a response to their writing before it comes down to impacting their grade. It only seems fair to me. Speaking of response...this leads me to my next discovery...

Reading Kynard's article has reaffirmed something about response that has become a part of my "theory of teaching," as it continues to evolve. The first thing, and I think the most important, is that we should respond to student writing, and a lot. I love how many different ways that Kynard responds to her student's writing. This kind of ties into my discussion above, but I think it's important that I have them writing a lot, and getting responses to that writing a lot as well, and further, that they have a chance to write in journals and memos in addition to papers, so they get some experience in writing at different levels of formality. Not all the writing anyone will do in life is going to be research papers...it would be ridiculous to think so. I think it's important to do this because when someone writes in their lives outside of academia, there are so many different levels of formality and informality that are appropriate. I think it's good for them to get experience in a variety of formats, so that when the times comes, they are able to make those kinds of stylistic choices themselves with confidence. Maybe a research paper seems ridiculous when it's written informally, but a memo inviting your department to the informal holiday party would look every bit as ridiculous written in academic jargon.

I also found it incredible in Kynard's article how much writing outside of class her students were engaging in and bringing to her. I think this, more than anything, is the dream that most teachers of writing have. What could possibly be better than your students breaking down your door with pages upon pages of writing that they want you to respond to? That must be really satisfying (a little overwhelming, maybe, but satisfying nonetheless).

I also found Zebroski's article interesting, particularly his discussion of "voices." I liked the way that he broke down different types of responses to a piece of student writing that in most circumstances would probably not have "gone over" so well. I think he's right in asserting that we have to really consider the different voices that circulate within us as we are responding to writing. There are certain ideologies that we espouse, often tacitly, that are given voice in our thoughts. I think many teachers have the voices of Strunk and White and other grammarian types screaming at the top of their lungs when they're responding, (probably because they screamed inside their own teachers' heads) which was made clear in last week's reading. There are also other voices, political leanings, teachers, you name it...they're all there and they're all yacking. I don't think there's much we can do about that except to be aware of it and try to engage as closely as we can with the student writing at hand and really interrogate those voices when they start vying for attention. Maybe they're right and have something valuable to say...and maybe they're a little off the mark. It's a really interesting notion that if kept in mind will certainly help us consider how we respond to texts.