Monday, December 1, 2008

Do What I Say Not As I Do

In my brother's 9th grade year, his new English teacher was currently getting her PhD in English while teaching his class. She was so engrossed in her own education, that she forgot how difficult her assignments were for her students. Although many of the students were able to rise to the occasion, they did so at the point of nervous breakdowns (private school kids can't accept failure). She forgot to put herself in her students shoes and reflect on how the assignments were effecting them. This is not to say that I think this teacher had already learned everythign there was to learn and couldn't possibly remember what it was like to be a struggling 15 year old English student. However, I felt that she relied to much on the level she had attained and lacked the ability to look at the basic skills that got her to that point.

Quite possibly, this teacher skirted over the basics when she was younger, understanding them for the most part but perhaps never fully grasping them. It never hurts to go back to the basics and see how you make connections in your mind and try to relay them to students.

Teachers constantly need to go through self-reflexive re-evaluation processes of their teaching methods. It can't hurt to actually poll your students to find out what is effective and what isn't.

I think a good attitude also goes a long way. I find that negativity and undue criticism wear away at the teacher more than the student. Constantly focusing on a students lack of moral rectitude will probably eat away at the teacher with the soul rather than the student who doesn't have one.

So, to better yourself as a teacher requires a bit of humility and an attitude that's able to just let things go every once and a while. For those who are thrust into teaching for the purpose of achieving funding, this next part might not be so applicable. But I think that if teaching is your calling, you become a better teacher by reflecting on what you can positively contribute to the overall system of knowledge and to students' personal academic growth.

End of Composition

Unless you're born perfect, there will probably never be an end to composition. All writing can always be improved (if not, then editors would not exist).

I think when we talk about the "end of composition" we are thinking that at some point, students should just "get it" and be able to function in the adult...what..intellectual community, business word, political society? Honestly, definitions are as varied as the numerous students who take composition. How can there be an end to composition if we can't even agree on a definition.

Some people will always suck at writing...but their ideas and ability to critically think might improve. As unbelievable as this might seem to philologists, some people's brains just don't understand how to coherently put words down on paper. Of course, I could understand words in lengthy essays about microbiology without being able to put the concepts together and understand the actual material. So linguistic ability in terms of righting skill is not always directly proportionate to intellectual ability.

We demand, in a massive university effort to all incoming freshmen, a thorough indoctrination of the skills of composition that will, in some mysterious mystical ritual, ensure them a rite of passage into higher education.

So, we can stamp a passing grade on FYC students' papers or demand better curriculum in high school so that FYC becomes unecessary in college, but the likelihood of this happening is about the same as Heidi and Spencer becoming decent people who can positively contribute to society.

Perfect Teacher

Surprisingly, this one is pretty easy to answer. Obviously there is no "perfect" teacher, but there are always "extraordinary" teachers.

The best teachers, first off, actually want to be teachers. Needless to say, people who fell into the profession because they wanted to coach, or needed a job, or wanted *cough* graduate student funding *cough* might not be the most invested purveyors of knowledge.

I think that as long as a teacher is genuinely interested in the subject AND interested in helping the student reach his or her potential (rather than using the classroom as their own personal "look how smart I am" fest), then that teacher is awesome.

Respect for students, interest in the text, and effective skill in communicating knowledge are all absolutely required. Nun-chuch skills, computer hacking skills and bow hunting skills are just an added bonus.

Philosophy of Teaching

Obviously there are different philosophies of teaching. Even if teachers haven't actually ever sat down and read through composition or teaching theory, everyone approaches education in a different way.

If I think back through the teachers I've had from kindergarten until now, I find that some of my graduate professors share similar qualities with my grade school teachers. The worst teachers all seemed to be the worst for the same reasons, and the best for the best reasons. Part of teaching is an inherent gift to relate to students while still maintaining authority and accomplishing objectives. This can be accomplished in any number of ways be they formalistic, expressive, or any combination of teaching strategies. An effective teacher usually has an "effective" personality to go along with their philosophy. Now, if a teacher is focused on quality of the student's experience or the quality of the student's actual education can sometimes be mutually exclusive but not always.

I approach the classroom expecting to be frustrated with students but also with the mindset that everyone deserves a fair chance before I begin to make assumptions. I actually tend to have the softest spot in my heart for students who struggle (regardless of whether it's due to learning differences, personal problems, or just a general bad attitude). Call it the Dead Poets Society syndrome, but I wouldn't mind if a bunch of kids stood up on their desks proclaiming "O Captain! My Captain!"

My philosophy of teaching first of all includes the quality of the material that will be used in class. I like to combine formal with modern (wanting of course to do a course on Medieval literature and its contemporary themes in Anime and MMORPGs). The student's engagement in the text is then my next requirement. Finally, a standard of strict grading and rigidly adhered to assignments complete the rest of my philosophy. I've always found a structured learning environment to be comforting and motivating since I tend to lack the oh-so-important skill of self-motivation.

Never know how to conclude these things....

Um...

Yeah.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

I like jigsaw puzzles. I admit I've watched pro wrestling before.

I just imagined the whole class having a wrestling match. We could throw chairs and ladders and everything.

Maybe a tamer idea would be to just build a bunch of jigsaw puzzles together.

That being said, I'm not sure what puzzles me or what I'm wrestling with in regards to the articles.

I know what bugs me though.

I have a problem with studies that have such small sample sizes. Moreover, none of these social experiments seem to have control groups or repeatable elements.

I think the reason why we argue so much in class over the discrepancies in the "study" articles we've looked at is because these articles can't really come anywhere near giving proper findings. I appreciated it when Dr. Rickly said that many of these articles are just meant to be testimonials--Hey, this is what I did and it worked. Try it out.--But I wish that there were more feasible studies that really could help give solutions to some of the questions about writing process, group work, etc. Are there no studies out there with large sample sizes that have been conducted over several years?

Maybe I'm just tainted by my job where I look at IMRAD methods all day long and critique my authors' scientific method. But couldn't pedagogical theory be just as practical if we spent time on more extensive studies? Surely this is worth a dissertation topic or two. Maybe I haven't looked hard enough.

Okay...so I'm wrestling with this. And I guess I'd really like to punch these shallow studies in the face. Bam!

How important is theory/are theories in our academic work? Why are they/aren't they important? Is it important for us to be familiar with theories t

Theory is obviously important in academic work. Or at least...the concepts behind the theories are important. I feel though, that people tend to naturally drift into theories. For the sake of articles and job interviews for academia, it helps to be able to define one's own theoretical slant. I am not sure if missing a theory course, however, would seriously deter anyone from exploring a certain topic. I was speaking to a professor the other day, who will remain nameless, and he/she does not think theory courses were that applicable to his/her work.

Theory almost seems to be an outdated practice. Most current scholarship tends to focus on a survey of scholarly literature on their topic rather than focus on differing theoretical practices. Certainly, there is a place in some arguments for theoretical debate, but today it seems like much of the criticism of articles focuses on the validity of the argument based on evidence, not on the theoretical framework.

For pedagogy, it might be more helpful to understand theory. Many of us are thrown into the teaching profession with little to no knowledge of pedagogical theory. I anticipate that I will probably glance back at some of these articles from class in the future and try to define my teaching style or try to find different ideas for teaching effectively.

All this being said, I don't think theory should be as canonical as it is. Leave it for the Philosophy or Psychology department.

. . .

It's interesting that I've just spent the past 5 minutes trying to think of a title for this blog and couldn't think of anything. What was my process? I sat at the screen and stared. Chatted on Facebook on one internet screen while I kept the blog up on the other.

I am sitting in a dark office with one tiny lamp lit, casting vertical light beams in the corner of the room. It's dark outside too. I can see a few raindrop remnants in the bottom left corner of the window because of the lights from the courtyard.

I feel like writing for fun in this setting. Instead, I'm writing to finish assignments. I have to get blogs done, write bibliographies, and writing for publication assignments.

Multiple deadlines definitely do not help my writing process.

This weekend I have a conference paper coming up. I am excited about it, and I think that the process of writing this particular paper is similar to most of the work I do in which I am actually interested. My other writing (dictated by academic or other necessity) has no real process. I usually procrastinate until I run out of time and am forced to do things. This semester is particularly bad because I am taking 12 hours. Back to the point--I am going to have fun writing this conference paper, and I am actually aware of my writing process for this type of work. So here it is.

I come up with an idea. These ideas really do happen to be determined by the whims of the muses. Once I have my idea, I research the topic as much as possible. (Even if it is fiction, I research anything that could be related to the idea). Then I spend countless hours writing outlines. I jot them down everywhere. I write them in class while I am supposed to be taking notes. I write them in church during sermons. I also write down any minor ideas I might have about the topic. They find their way into my day planner, on sticky notes, written on my refrigerator or pinned to my bulletin board. I have to talk to people to get my ideas to really start to solidify, so sometimes I don't even have notes. But conversations help.

My organizational system is non-existent at this point. I am trying really hard to start organizing ideas on Google Docs so that I can always find my brainstorms. Unfortunately, I don't always have time to transcribe my written notes.

Once the outline is written and nailed down, my stress is totally gone. I then start to write the paper out in my head. This is completely unintentional, but while I'm at the gym, or riding my bike, or driving my car, or taking a shower, if the paper drifts into my thoughts, it stays there until I have worked out problems.

When I write, I definitely have to be in the right mood. My office at home is really warm and inviting. My bookshelves surround me like guardians of my thoughts. And it's comforting to see all my books around me. I think...other people have written far more words than me...this shouldn't be that hard.

I pop in a CD (usually Mozart's Requiem, some Cistercian monk chants, boys' choirs, or something celtic), pull out some notebook paper, gather any and all outlines that I have written. Then I finalize the outline (again). Then I start writing.

It usually takes about 5-8 hours to get 20 pages done. I do it all in one sitting. I may take 5 minute breaks in between. I feel totally anxious and nervous the whole time I write. Then, when it's done. I don't look at it for a couple hours.

I'll revise it the next morning maybe. That usually just consists of copyediting. I tend to trust my first instincts on drafts.

This is how I write any paper or conference paper.

But conference papers have additional steps. When I'm done with my 10 pages or so, I don't look at them for a while. I keep talking about the paper to people. I brainstorm ideas some more. I think about my audience--would they prefer a more conversational style or a formal, read paper?

I make corrections the night before. I read my paper for time. I usually read it aloud 3 times because I am making corrections the whole time I am reading. The accurate time estimate comes from the 3rd or 4th read.

That's my process. After that it's just turn the paper in or deliver it.

Monday, September 15, 2008

This is my inside Voice

Due to the high level of prescribed narcotics running through my body right now, I can assure you that I will be using my real voice in this blog. I will not attempt to put a filter on my thoughts as I shape this blog from the "point of utterance."

After reading Elbow's article, I realize "voice" was the first element that actually drew me to writing. I have been journaling since I was eight-years-old and keep copies of filled journals chronologically organized on one of my bookcases. Perhaps it is an oddity to journal at such a young age, but this seemingly superfluous practice has helped me strengthen my unique voice.

I know that Elbow says that one can practice developing one's voice through journaling or free-writing without having an intended audience in mind. I find, however, that I always have a nebulous concept of an audience as I write. Even when I journal for myself, I have the feeling that someone with voyeuristic tendencies might one day pick up one of my journals and have access to my innermost thoughts. Because of this, I was always conscious of making my journal entries clear enough so that other people than myself could understand my entries.

Whether or not this voice has enhanced my academic voice is hard to say. I believe that some people's real voices might be to irreverent for the academy. A person could also be born with a voice that is not intrinsically suited for academia. Although, I find that one's unique voice tends to fit into the academic field he or she chooses. For example, there are many varying voices in the medical field, but they all retain a similar thread of vocabulary and organization. The same goes for the fields of literature, engineering, art, psychology, etc. Each discipline has an over-arching voice in which an individual must place his- or herself. I have done no research on this topic, but I would assume that the majority of scholars can situate their own voices within the range of voices in their discipline.

Your authentic, unique voice helps you stand out (hopefully not negatively) amidst a field of scholars who seem to constantly rehash the same information. A new voice added into the mixture might be refreshing. And isn't this how new movements begin anyways? A person's voice is sometimes the best way of persuading others to accept new ideas.

Elbow's article fits in perfectly with Britton's "Shaping at the Point of Utterance" article. I was also able to personalize that article quickly. Again, this probably comes from journaling so often. There is no erasing in journals (perhaps an occasional retrospective marking out of sentences). But journals require you to move forward with your first thought and develop it into something worth writing. I find that my writing suffers when I stray to far away from my journaling.

In this way, I don't think that I am necessarily "confident" with my voice. In fact, I would probably blush if I actually witnessed anyone reading my blog which does, in essence, expose my "authentic" prose sans corrections. Instead of confidence, I would attribute the prominence of real voice in my writing to practice. It is the style in which I am most comfortable writing--the style in which I learned to write to begin with.

I consider oration and prose in the same genre. I prefer writing styles that emulate the speaking voice. The only difference between written English and spoken English should be the "clarity" of speech because one has more time to correct glaring grammatical errors. The ideas should be at the same level, as should the rhythm. The worst articles are the ones that make me have cause to pause and reread the sentence because the rhythm seems awkward. An occasional adjustment in rhythm, correction of grammar, and reorganization ought to occur in most writing--but I argue this should only be done after the first draft is written.

Disguising my voice helps no one. I am not a spy. I do not need disguises.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Take 10 divided by 5, plus 8, times 2

My impression of the Take 20 video may not be fully accurate. I watched it on my computer at 1.4x frames/sec. So, to me, it seemed really upbeat and full of enthusiasm.


I enjoyed the playful reminiscing of the interviewees at the beginning of the video. The fact that even experts in the pedagogical field were neophytes at some point in their teaching career was comforting. Also, it was helpful to learn that there are so many different theories about pedagogy. I sometimes feel like my teaching style somehow doesn't fit the mold. However, this video made me feel like my style was valid. I think I'll take a note out of the Take 20 video and describe my first moments as a teacher.


(dissolve for dramatic effect)


I remember my first teaching experience. I was 20 years old in my sophomore year of college. The principal of my old high school asked me if I would like to start substitute teaching (probably at the behest of my mother who is a math teacher there). My experience in that first class can only be called "unique." Because I was an alumna, I knew most of the students there. The weirdness was compounded by the fact that my three younger siblings had not yet graduated from this institution. I had zero credibility as a teacher.

The process of learning how to be comfortable in the classroom was almost a harder lesson than how and what to teach. I felt like any minute I was going to be fired for doing something wrong or stupid. Finally, I learned how to exert my authority, what clothes to wear to emphasize power, what things to say to get kids under control, and what material to focus on to engage kids in the learning process. I taught at this particular school for five years. Because I could adapted to that institution's teaching style, I was able to substitute for longer periods of time. My typical job usually lasted anywhere from two weeks to an entire semester. During that time, I also learned how to specifically adapt to each individual teacher's pedagogy without fully compromising my own views about teaching.

Of course, the process seems to start over again at every new institution. Even after 4 years of experience, my first semester teaching at the TTU French department was terrifying. Perhaps it was because I was instructing my students in a mix of English and French, and perhaps it was because I had moved out of high school into the university sphere, but I again felt as if I were going to be fired at any moment for screwing everything up.

I can only hope that I will continue to be confident in my personal teaching methods while at the same time learning to adapt to the pedagogy preferred by my employers. The Take 20 video reminded me that teaching theories are varied and that everyone gets scared and feels inadequate at some point.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

"No man is an island."

If you think you're going to get away with never having to write in your whole life, then you are sorely mistaken. My main job is as a technical editor for a doctor who has to write clinical research articles. He never thought he would ever have to give presentations or write articles about his clinical practice. He may have thought his clinic was an entity unto itself. But because his research can be so beneficial to similar specialists, he had to leave his local bubble and begin to communicate with other experts in his field.

This is a man who only pulls out a pen to scribble barely legible prescriptions on pad. All of his articles are dictated. So, in a way, yes, this man can get away with never reading MLA, APA, or Chicago. He doesn't have to worry about comma splices or capitalization. He has a secretary transcribe all his dictations for him, and he pays me to check his grammar, punctuation, and style.

But....he still needs to have certain fundamental skills. You can pay people to edit, but you can't pay people to think for you.

Sure, my client can get away with not knowing anything about grammar/punctuation because this will be corrected for him before his peers see his mistakes. (Side note: This doesn't keep me from thinking he sounds really stupid sometimes. He's a relative, so I can say he's dumb, right?) The man is actually brilliant, but he has trouble communicating his thoughts.

We teach first-year composition because ideas have to be communicated in some way, shape, or form in every discipline. (If you can think of a discipline that doesn't require the free and open exchange of ideas, let me know).

Even if most of us can get away with poor grammar and imperfect punctuation the rest of our lives, the quality of our ideas and how we present those ideas will be a constant, outward signifier of our own intellect.

We have to teach students to practice analyzing, interpreting, and conveying their ideas in words. Resumes, office memos, professional emails--so much communicating is done in writing, and people can easily judge you (or misjudge you) by your written communication. If we can get students to improve the quality and cogency of their ideas and messages, we can make them better communicators in any field in which they choose to specialize.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Three Most Important Concepts in Composition

For my own personal trinity of composition concepts, I need look no further than the Medieval and Renaissance scholars. I have long been a fan of the trivium and have considered tutoring my own children because I feel like too much of the knowledge today is dumbed down because institutions underestimate what young minds are capable of. Grammar, rhetoric, and dialectic have always been components of composition.

Certainly stodgy old concepts by long-dead philosophers need a certain amount of finagling to appeal to the 21st century crop of young writers. Even today, most new strategies use the trivium as their base but incorporate a more personalized learning style (i.e. expressivism). Actually, because the trivium was often studied under private tutelage or independently, the trivium was, in its original essence, an extremely personalized endeavor. The Socratic method, which involved the tutor-driven questioning of students (allowing the student to reach "true" conclusions through his own trial and error) grew out of Classical philosophy and remained during the trivium. I remember several years ago that the Socratic method was slowly becoming en vogue because of the book Socrates Cafe (Christopher Phillips 2001). I think that it was the institutionalization of the learning process in the 20th century that has paradoxically overcomplicated and oversimplified the learning process. Let's face it--not every teacher is a genius. With so many teaching philosophies floating around, an inexperienced teacher can get lost in pedagogy and end up dumbing down information.

Students need to learn grammar. Too many students make it to university with almost incomprehensibly low grammar skills. Poor grammar is the quickest way to misjudge someone's intelligence. Most of the time, people will be too distracted by horrible grammar and style to recognize even the most cogent of arguments.

Students need to learn rhetoric. If a student cannot organize his or her ideas with compelling language, even the best grammatical essay will resemble the work of a neophyte.

Students need to learn dialectic. Analyzing, interpreting, and presenting one's own insight about a given subject happens in any academic and non-academic field. In school, at work, in casual conversations with friends, dialectic is how we communicate our ideas to one another. Dialectic is, in a way, the verbal representation of one's self.

The direction of much of the educational field, unfortunately, has gone solely in the way of dialectic. Students adept at analyzing and interpreting literature can CLEP out of 12 hours of English but still have no clue how to write their own observations and/or arguments in a grammatically and rhetorically sound manner.

So these are my top three components for teaching composition, but they only work if one last concept is kept in mind: teachers need to quit underestimating students. Many times this happens (I speak from personal experience) because a teacher is too tired or "un-enthused" about their own subject that he or she does not take the time to figure out where students are struggling and try to help them understand potentially more difficult concepts.

My English teachers in high school emphasized these concepts. They graded harshly, but they also took the time to correct all of our mistakes. They taught us hard concepts and held us to high standards, and even though it was hard work, the rewards at the end were well worth the struggle. I never encountered anything near the level of scholarship I performed in high school English until graduate school (except Dr. Grass's and Dr. Couch's 4000 level courses).

A good teacher sets high standards (i.e. via the trivium), can relate to students by personalize lectures and grading with in depth commentary, and thus produce successful writers and scholars. .

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Promoting Narcissism

Despite the following entry...

I contend that I am not a narcissist.

This is my second year in the Master's Program for the English Department, but it is my third year in graduate school. I started in the French Department, felt too limited by class choices and literature options, and am now specializing in Comparative Literature.

My specific field of research is in Medieval Literature. I prefer to explore concepts in neo-medievalism such as video game culture, comic books, contemporary literature, film, and television. I am preparing a doctoral thesis comparing/contrasting Arthurian and Chivalric Romance to Japanese Shonen (boys') manga.

If you wonder how I chose this topic, it happened by pure chance. I had writer's block while writing a conference paper and decided to watch the anime series Bleach that my younger brothers had recommended. The first episode corresponded almost exactly to the tale of Perceval I had just read. The coincidence lead me to do a full investigation of the romance genre and boys' manga.

Lucky for me I'm in close contact with my family. My mom, two brothers, and sister still live in Lubbock. I have lived here since I was 5. I've now been at Tech for 6 years (excluding one semester between undergrad and grad). I live here with my husband Wally and my dog Jack.