hi yall i hv 2 do ths blog b4 i go 2bd 2nite sup w u im sick of hmwk but tuff
As most of you know, Rob Hudson has weighed in on the question of communication ethics. He asks whether we can read his text-messagesque e-mails on the ICON LISTSERV and whether it alters our opinions of him. This throw-down, of course, follows the string of commentary about a student's Writing Concern. Clearly, we are not of one mind.
Of course I can read Rob's e-mails, and I am reasonably certain that just about anyone who bothers to review this blog can read my first "paragraph." My questions to you are "do you want to?" and "is that form of communication universally appropriate?" If I were to answer my own questions, I would say "it depends" and "no." For instance, I have no objection to reading text-speak if it comes from my son, who is on a 15-minute classroom break, or from Rob, who is typing furiously with his thumbs while simultaneously dousing seven technical "fires." If it comes from a student lodging a grade appeal, however, I am far less receptive. An plea for a higher English grade should be written in clear, grammatically-correct English. Period.
In a way, we are all chameleons: we adapt our attire, our behavior, and our language to suit current context. "Me" in church isn't exactly the same as "me" at Cricket's...and neither of those is "me" in the classroom. "Me" in the classroom is further shaped by which side of the table I'm occupying, so to speak. In much the same way, our writing adapts (or should adapt) to a given context. Even if I consider only correspondence, my writing style depends upon my audience; and I'm willing to bet yours does, too. The same is true of academic work: stuff I post on this blog differs substantially from the papers I submit in Dr. Hawkins's class, as well it should. Hey, I'm just writing across the curriculm.
I've made my position quite clear in class meetings, but I'll say it again: the end of composition pedagogy should be enhanced abilities to read critically, to write effectively, and to adapt one's writing style to suit particular purposes. How do we get there? By modeling it. As some of my classmates have noted, our acquaintances adjust their grammar when speaking to us--because they know "what we do." Those students who have received my gentle nudges about e-mail etiquette continue to e-mail me...they simply adapt their styles. I haven't closed the door on their communications; I've merely laid some ground rules. Isn't that my job?
It is evident to me that many teenagers are unable to extract relevant information from assignment descriptions (let alone the reading assignments themselves) and that they have difficulty communicating their many truly great ideas. Will they learn these skills all by themselves? I seriously doubt it. If they leave TTU without having developed these skills, will they fare as well as classmates who have mastered critical reading and writing? I doubt that, too. The young adult using "text-speak" to communicate with prospective employers may find himself or herself on the wrong side of the hiring decision. Why? Because said prospective employers may decide that said young adult is too uneducated--or too lazy--to be a good employee. The young adult who communicates more professionally while job hunting and then text-messages his or her buddies "gt jb!!! my crib 2nite-byob!" has successfully evaluated two very different environments and has written across real-world curricula. Bravo, Contestant No. 2!
Cathy
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Facilitating? I'm not so sure...
First, let me say that ICON provides a very good teacher-to-teacher interface. I've gotten many good tips from people whose faces I can't quite place, and I have seen questions being resolved extraordinarily quickly.
I'd like to think that ICON enables us to facilitate student learning, too, particularly by taking some of the personality out of the mix. That idea probably seems odd coming from someone like me (shy, reticent, hard to fathom), but "hear" me out.
Judging from my students' e-mails, office visits, and apparent desire to lope across fields to greet me, I'd say they like me and find me accessible. They know I'm quick on my feet and enjoy a good joke--even at my own expense. In other words, they respond to me; and that's great during class sessions. But if they are writing to me, they may be modulating their authorial voices to blend with their perception of mine. And that's not so great. . .because they should be developing their own. This is a great time for them to do that while learning to channel their voices in keeping with various course guidelines.
When my students submit an assignment to TOPIC, they don't know who might be grading it. In some ways, that's a good thing: because the reader/grader is anonymous, the students are less tempted to play to me and more likely to play it straight. On the other hand, students compare notes about grading feedback. . .and then the trouble begins. Student A receives "I see a number of sentence fragments and dangling modifiers in this assignment. Here are some examples [insert sample incriminating evidence here]. Please have a look at Handbook pages xx and yy." Meanwhile, Student B--whose work is of roughly equal quality--receives "Your assignment is littered with sentence fragments [insert each and every example here], dangling modifiers [again, every example], comma splices [evidence], run-on sentences [evidence], and numerous misplaced commas [damning evidence]. You need to review the following 85 pages in your Handbook, and why don't you buy a dictionary the next time you're out?" Both students' assignments have been awarded a 79. And then there's Student C, whose paper also receives a 79. . .supported by numerous "you're so great"-isms.
I exaggerate, of course, but you get my point. After talking amongst themselves, these students wonder why the heck one 79 gets a "great job" while another gets a "your writing needs serious work." Student A knows his/her assignment was graded by a genius, Student B thinks his/her assignment has been graded by the Grammar Gorgon, and Student C wonders why his/her work is graded by someone typing out of both sides of the keyboard (if you will).
Meanwhile, back in Document Instruction, we're left to wonder: Did we redirect Student A without crushing his/her spirit? Does Student B realize that we've marked every error so that he/she knows what to study, but that we haven't lowered the grade to reflect the full gamut of errors? Will Student C recognize that we care about him/her but would like to see greater effort? Are we helping them? I'm concerned that, in many cases, the answer is "no."
If we really can norm, then that "no" may change to "yes." But the message must be consistent: if we all say different things, we send mixed signals. And when a group includes CIs with widely-varied perspectives, norming will be difficult to achieve.
As for our document instruction simulating writing center instruction, I really don't know. I have no first-hand experience in that arena. Perhaps if the writing center is online, the effect is similar--but only if the student has a different tutor for each session. However, I would expect that face-to-face sessions would facilitate student and tutor reactions to nonverbal communication. . .the uncomfortable shift in the chair, the blank stare, the tightened lips, the big grin, the unmistakable "OH" on either side of the table. . .and adjust accordingly. Again, I have not worked in a writing center. What I can say with certainty is this: I met with one of my students on Friday concerning his Brief No. 1. All of those points he didn't get from my comments (via TOPIC) were perfectly clear to him when I could direct his attention back and forth between the article, the handbook, and his summary. What I said didn't change; but the visuals bridged the gap.
So how do we bridge the gap online? Hypermediate DI comments with links to articles and Handbook?
Thus spake the tyro.
I'd like to think that ICON enables us to facilitate student learning, too, particularly by taking some of the personality out of the mix. That idea probably seems odd coming from someone like me (shy, reticent, hard to fathom), but "hear" me out.
Judging from my students' e-mails, office visits, and apparent desire to lope across fields to greet me, I'd say they like me and find me accessible. They know I'm quick on my feet and enjoy a good joke--even at my own expense. In other words, they respond to me; and that's great during class sessions. But if they are writing to me, they may be modulating their authorial voices to blend with their perception of mine. And that's not so great. . .because they should be developing their own. This is a great time for them to do that while learning to channel their voices in keeping with various course guidelines.
When my students submit an assignment to TOPIC, they don't know who might be grading it. In some ways, that's a good thing: because the reader/grader is anonymous, the students are less tempted to play to me and more likely to play it straight. On the other hand, students compare notes about grading feedback. . .and then the trouble begins. Student A receives "I see a number of sentence fragments and dangling modifiers in this assignment. Here are some examples [insert sample incriminating evidence here]. Please have a look at Handbook pages xx and yy." Meanwhile, Student B--whose work is of roughly equal quality--receives "Your assignment is littered with sentence fragments [insert each and every example here], dangling modifiers [again, every example], comma splices [evidence], run-on sentences [evidence], and numerous misplaced commas [damning evidence]. You need to review the following 85 pages in your Handbook, and why don't you buy a dictionary the next time you're out?" Both students' assignments have been awarded a 79. And then there's Student C, whose paper also receives a 79. . .supported by numerous "you're so great"-isms.
I exaggerate, of course, but you get my point. After talking amongst themselves, these students wonder why the heck one 79 gets a "great job" while another gets a "your writing needs serious work." Student A knows his/her assignment was graded by a genius, Student B thinks his/her assignment has been graded by the Grammar Gorgon, and Student C wonders why his/her work is graded by someone typing out of both sides of the keyboard (if you will).
Meanwhile, back in Document Instruction, we're left to wonder: Did we redirect Student A without crushing his/her spirit? Does Student B realize that we've marked every error so that he/she knows what to study, but that we haven't lowered the grade to reflect the full gamut of errors? Will Student C recognize that we care about him/her but would like to see greater effort? Are we helping them? I'm concerned that, in many cases, the answer is "no."
If we really can norm, then that "no" may change to "yes." But the message must be consistent: if we all say different things, we send mixed signals. And when a group includes CIs with widely-varied perspectives, norming will be difficult to achieve.
As for our document instruction simulating writing center instruction, I really don't know. I have no first-hand experience in that arena. Perhaps if the writing center is online, the effect is similar--but only if the student has a different tutor for each session. However, I would expect that face-to-face sessions would facilitate student and tutor reactions to nonverbal communication. . .the uncomfortable shift in the chair, the blank stare, the tightened lips, the big grin, the unmistakable "OH" on either side of the table. . .and adjust accordingly. Again, I have not worked in a writing center. What I can say with certainty is this: I met with one of my students on Friday concerning his Brief No. 1. All of those points he didn't get from my comments (via TOPIC) were perfectly clear to him when I could direct his attention back and forth between the article, the handbook, and his summary. What I said didn't change; but the visuals bridged the gap.
So how do we bridge the gap online? Hypermediate DI comments with links to articles and Handbook?
Thus spake the tyro.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Sunday, September 2, 2007
My composition philosophy
For a person who always has plenty to say, I'm finding a response to "What are the three most important concepts in composition?" incredibly difficult to articulate. But here goes...
1. Master fear of writing by recognizing that writing as a simultaneous creative/learning process. I tend to take a "brainstorming" approach to writing: I simply jot down every idea, question, or concept (let's call them fragments). What the heck? Who's going to see it? Then I start looking for contrasts, parallels, combinations, complements: what fits together and what doesn't; can fragments, or groups of them, form an internal tension which will help shore up my thesis? As I write--and this, for me, can either be a linear activity or one which is conducted by fleshing out fragment combinations and then discovering the flow--I often find myself on the shore opposite my departure point. In this way, composition becomes a very exciting journey.
2. Say what you want to say the way you want to say it. Sure, there are often rules: you might have to stick to assignment parameters, for example, or keep yourself within a range of topics dictated by conference organizers; and of course, it's important to remain grammatically sound. But it's possible to be edgy within those guidelines...to sort of bend the rules while mostly obeying them. I like to push the envelope. I like to find a fresh angle (my motto tends to be "yes, but what about [fill in the blank]?) and a way to make it pop! "Voice" is extremely important to me. I want my writing to stand well apart from the average Jane's composition.
3. Channel the flow carefully. Sometimes I'll want to simply stack my arguments so that they build to a grand finale. Other times I will let an interior dichotomy work to my advantage. Every single thing I write (yes, even research papers) is designed to prove something. After having worked to discover that fresh angle and that edgy approach, I want to keep my readers anxious to find my ultimate point. Often that means I lull them into thinking my direction is predictable and then spring a surprise. Frequently that happens more than once in a paper. I want readers caught up in my journey, too. (I know: closet rhetorician!)
If you are now thinking I consider writing a game or a puzzle, I've successfully explained what I find important in composition: getting creative, having fun, challenging my readers, and convincing them to think about some old topic in a new way!
1. Master fear of writing by recognizing that writing as a simultaneous creative/learning process. I tend to take a "brainstorming" approach to writing: I simply jot down every idea, question, or concept (let's call them fragments). What the heck? Who's going to see it? Then I start looking for contrasts, parallels, combinations, complements: what fits together and what doesn't; can fragments, or groups of them, form an internal tension which will help shore up my thesis? As I write--and this, for me, can either be a linear activity or one which is conducted by fleshing out fragment combinations and then discovering the flow--I often find myself on the shore opposite my departure point. In this way, composition becomes a very exciting journey.
2. Say what you want to say the way you want to say it. Sure, there are often rules: you might have to stick to assignment parameters, for example, or keep yourself within a range of topics dictated by conference organizers; and of course, it's important to remain grammatically sound. But it's possible to be edgy within those guidelines...to sort of bend the rules while mostly obeying them. I like to push the envelope. I like to find a fresh angle (my motto tends to be "yes, but what about [fill in the blank]?) and a way to make it pop! "Voice" is extremely important to me. I want my writing to stand well apart from the average Jane's composition.
3. Channel the flow carefully. Sometimes I'll want to simply stack my arguments so that they build to a grand finale. Other times I will let an interior dichotomy work to my advantage. Every single thing I write (yes, even research papers) is designed to prove something. After having worked to discover that fresh angle and that edgy approach, I want to keep my readers anxious to find my ultimate point. Often that means I lull them into thinking my direction is predictable and then spring a surprise. Frequently that happens more than once in a paper. I want readers caught up in my journey, too. (I know: closet rhetorician!)
If you are now thinking I consider writing a game or a puzzle, I've successfully explained what I find important in composition: getting creative, having fun, challenging my readers, and convincing them to think about some old topic in a new way!
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