It's been a semester of what I fear are tremendously naive posts from me. I don't know if it's a naivety born of idealism or disinterest in anything but making up stories (the very reason I came to graduate school in the first place), but that doesn't change that it's very much there. That said, my position on learning from teaching is that there is no way not to do so. You're in a perpetually interactive environment, and your students should teach you both about your effectiveness as an instructor, and make you think about material you're delivering to them in new lights.
You should be able to better yourself as a teacher constantly from within the classroom. If you're engaging the students as you should be ("engagement", I feel, is vital; it's one of the tenants of my teaching philosophy), then they should be bouncing ideas back at you that you haven't yet considered. As a teacher, it's your job to consider the angles your students are giving you, and ideally, your knowledge of the subject at hand should expand. This, in addition to the thought you should already be putting into your daily lectures, should make teaching a perpetual improvement process.
Beyond the classroom, I think practicing what you preach is far and away the best way to improve yourself as a teacher. Stay abreast of your field in the most appropriate manner possible. If you're teaching writing, write constantly. If you're in psychology, contribute to the field, and so forth. At the same time, keep up with the latest materials available from outside sources in your given profession. My father, a very successful academic, attributes a great deal of his success to working hard at staying as up to date and informed as possible in his chosen field.
Teaching is all about having knowledge and conveying it effectively. Find a way to deliver a message in a manner that will grab the students' attention. I've had a lot of teachers over the years lose me because they lacked an engaging presence. Your students have to care about what you're saying, and I feel to become a better teacher, I'll have to search constantly for ways to make myself a more dynamic presence in front of the classroom.
Know your stuff. Teach it well. Get your students involved. Teaching should be a perpetual pursuit of betterment in all these arenas.
-Golsan Out
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The End
It had, admittedly, been some weeks since we had this blog prompt assigned, so the difficulty I'm having with it could be due to my tardiness, or simply the inability to recall what we discussed in lecture that week. With that in mind, I can honestly say that having read both Dr. Rickly's and Smit's articles twice, I'm not sure I can glean the meaning of "The End of Composition". Does it imply teaching a course that goes above and beyond the call our current FYC classes (which in and of itself requires an inherently more prepared student body)? Given the way the question is framed, as well as some of the information in the Smit article, this is the conclusion I'm forced to draw, and will construct this blog in response to as much.
I liked the "Ball" metaphor at the start of the Smit piece, the implication that teaching a student one writing skill will not necessarily equate to learning other writing skills. The concern, further, that student won't transfer any specifically taught skills into higher writing is also troubling, although certainly something I can relate to. I've never been able to expand on a fundamental math skill beyond it's most rudimentary implementation. So what can we then teach that students can deploy, that can move us to the "End" of comp?
I think, upon examination of my own feelings, that I believe in the capitalist response mentioned at the end of Dr. Rickly's piece. The Iowa State program that teaches basic business writing (among other things, I assume) is something with direct utility across the "real" world. If we cannot turn students into "good" writers via a freshman composition, we should think in terms of pure utility. Our teaching principles should be oriented around something students need. Attempting to prepare them for academic writing is important too, but if the students are only sort of transferring the skills we're providing for them (as Smit's article seems to imply), shouldn't we focus on their long term benefit?
I worry that all of my attitudes in response to our readings is influenced by my lack of desire to be a teacher. It seems like everything I say leans toward "Let them do what they want while giving them something they can actually use". I'm not sure this position will make me an effective instructor, but I can't bring myself to believe in anything else. Quandary.
-Golsan Out
I liked the "Ball" metaphor at the start of the Smit piece, the implication that teaching a student one writing skill will not necessarily equate to learning other writing skills. The concern, further, that student won't transfer any specifically taught skills into higher writing is also troubling, although certainly something I can relate to. I've never been able to expand on a fundamental math skill beyond it's most rudimentary implementation. So what can we then teach that students can deploy, that can move us to the "End" of comp?
I think, upon examination of my own feelings, that I believe in the capitalist response mentioned at the end of Dr. Rickly's piece. The Iowa State program that teaches basic business writing (among other things, I assume) is something with direct utility across the "real" world. If we cannot turn students into "good" writers via a freshman composition, we should think in terms of pure utility. Our teaching principles should be oriented around something students need. Attempting to prepare them for academic writing is important too, but if the students are only sort of transferring the skills we're providing for them (as Smit's article seems to imply), shouldn't we focus on their long term benefit?
I worry that all of my attitudes in response to our readings is influenced by my lack of desire to be a teacher. It seems like everything I say leans toward "Let them do what they want while giving them something they can actually use". I'm not sure this position will make me an effective instructor, but I can't bring myself to believe in anything else. Quandary.
-Golsan Out
Monday, November 17, 2008
The Perfect Teacher: Reflections
We have been encouraged on multiple occasions to put our own spin on the blog entries, to write freely and as we see fit. While there are doubtless many qualities that would define the perfect teacher in a very traditional sense (well informed, caring, innovative, creativity, etc), I thought I'd take this opportunity to describe the kind of person I would most like to learn from. I give you the Golsanian Archetype, in list form...
1. This teacher is a woman, and she is hot. Not ridiculous, Van Halen video "Hot For Teacher" hot, but she needs to be the alpha-Hot in the room, enough so that there's no risk that I'll be distracted by other girls, daydreams, etc. You can't learn if you aren't paying attention.
2. Said teacher should be all about field trips. I'm not talking about the weak excursions my kindergarten class took, either. Today's lesson is Physics? Class goes sky diving. Lecture on free writing? Class goes to Tom Clancy's house, where the teacher has arranged for him to give you money. Social Studies? Take Tom Clancy's money and practice human interaction in Las Vegas. FIELD TRIPS.
3. Teacher's family owns delicatessen that caters during class every day. I learn best with a thick salami-on-rye* in front of me, sided by a tall coke and a bag of chips. This practice would encourage attendance, and if this woman were allowed to teach graduate studies, prevent us from starving at the end of the month when our money runs out.
*Deli should offer kosher and vegan/vegetarian options for students who have made alternative lifestyle choices when it comes to food
4. Beer. She should have beer for everyone. Always.
5. The teacher should be supportive of any and all student projects. If I want my final paper to be a 20 page narrative on a pick up basketball game I played last week in which I falsely describe my own dominance, that should be okay.
6. If I want to write a self indulgent and slightly sexist blog for her class, she would be okay with that, too.
7. This woman should be a wealth of knowledge, almost a robot. You know what's quicker than research? Asking your teacher to explain the nuances of Lacanian psychological theory. It troubles me for my own sake that this quality fell all the way to number seven.
8. Charisma is vital. I had some magnetic teachers college, but this woman comes complete with the smooth stylings of our President Elect, Barrack Obama. Again, this ties back to helping the students pay attention to her.
9. A healthy respect for not only religious holidays but sporting holidays as well. I'm talking about a teacher who will cancel class in March because the NCAA tournament is on. I understand this actually happens in parts of North Carolina; my parents went to school there. Perhaps this dream teacher exists on the East coast.
10. And finally, she gives A's for effort.
ALTERNATIVELY:
Drs. Rickly and Baake (wink wink nudge nudge)!
Please don't throw me out of graduate school. It's the end of the semester, I'm stressed, and this was fun to write.
1. This teacher is a woman, and she is hot. Not ridiculous, Van Halen video "Hot For Teacher" hot, but she needs to be the alpha-Hot in the room, enough so that there's no risk that I'll be distracted by other girls, daydreams, etc. You can't learn if you aren't paying attention.
2. Said teacher should be all about field trips. I'm not talking about the weak excursions my kindergarten class took, either. Today's lesson is Physics? Class goes sky diving. Lecture on free writing? Class goes to Tom Clancy's house, where the teacher has arranged for him to give you money. Social Studies? Take Tom Clancy's money and practice human interaction in Las Vegas. FIELD TRIPS.
3. Teacher's family owns delicatessen that caters during class every day. I learn best with a thick salami-on-rye* in front of me, sided by a tall coke and a bag of chips. This practice would encourage attendance, and if this woman were allowed to teach graduate studies, prevent us from starving at the end of the month when our money runs out.
*Deli should offer kosher and vegan/vegetarian options for students who have made alternative lifestyle choices when it comes to food
4. Beer. She should have beer for everyone. Always.
5. The teacher should be supportive of any and all student projects. If I want my final paper to be a 20 page narrative on a pick up basketball game I played last week in which I falsely describe my own dominance, that should be okay.
6. If I want to write a self indulgent and slightly sexist blog for her class, she would be okay with that, too.
7. This woman should be a wealth of knowledge, almost a robot. You know what's quicker than research? Asking your teacher to explain the nuances of Lacanian psychological theory. It troubles me for my own sake that this quality fell all the way to number seven.
8. Charisma is vital. I had some magnetic teachers college, but this woman comes complete with the smooth stylings of our President Elect, Barrack Obama. Again, this ties back to helping the students pay attention to her.
9. A healthy respect for not only religious holidays but sporting holidays as well. I'm talking about a teacher who will cancel class in March because the NCAA tournament is on. I understand this actually happens in parts of North Carolina; my parents went to school there. Perhaps this dream teacher exists on the East coast.
10. And finally, she gives A's for effort.
ALTERNATIVELY:
Drs. Rickly and Baake (wink wink nudge nudge)!
Please don't throw me out of graduate school. It's the end of the semester, I'm stressed, and this was fun to write.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
What SHOULD a composition teacher know?
I enjoyed the readings for this week; a rarity for me in regards to any document that isn't entertainment fiction or sports writing (am I the worst graduate student ever? Possibly). What does a comp teacher need to know? What should their students know when they leave the classroom? Should things be standardized??? Lots of questions, lots to think about.
Standardizing composition teaching seems like over-kill (costly over-kill at that, if we're talking about placing some sort of government issue standard). Presumably, if you're sharp enough to enter an English graduate program, you should be able to convey writing basics to students proficiently enough so they don't feel like they're getting cheated in their education. That said, it should fall on institutions to self police via intra-department observation to make sure their instructors DO know the material they're dishing out to students.
That said, what should be the minimum standard for said material? Obviously, the instructor should know the curriculum, as well as having a strong sense of what is technically correct regarding grammar rules. Beyond that, is anything else really necessary? The first article in part V says we should treat teaching composition as a discipline, but there aren't many professions that treat composition itself as such. Writing certainly augments many professions, but it isn't often the job itself. I tend to doubt that many students who DO want a writing profession are stuck in FYC.
From what I've seen of our first year writers through the semester, I really don't think students entering the classroom need to know much beyond a very basic grasp of the English language. We're teaching them academic writing fundamentals. If they knew those fundamentals, again, I tend to doubt they'd be in FYC.
As for me, I want to know enough about writing and the core curriculum so as not to sound like an idiot in front of my students, and to benefit their college experience. I expect them to be competent to learn how to write. It should be open from there. Flying by the seat of your pants is fun.
Standardizing composition teaching seems like over-kill (costly over-kill at that, if we're talking about placing some sort of government issue standard). Presumably, if you're sharp enough to enter an English graduate program, you should be able to convey writing basics to students proficiently enough so they don't feel like they're getting cheated in their education. That said, it should fall on institutions to self police via intra-department observation to make sure their instructors DO know the material they're dishing out to students.
That said, what should be the minimum standard for said material? Obviously, the instructor should know the curriculum, as well as having a strong sense of what is technically correct regarding grammar rules. Beyond that, is anything else really necessary? The first article in part V says we should treat teaching composition as a discipline, but there aren't many professions that treat composition itself as such. Writing certainly augments many professions, but it isn't often the job itself. I tend to doubt that many students who DO want a writing profession are stuck in FYC.
From what I've seen of our first year writers through the semester, I really don't think students entering the classroom need to know much beyond a very basic grasp of the English language. We're teaching them academic writing fundamentals. If they knew those fundamentals, again, I tend to doubt they'd be in FYC.
As for me, I want to know enough about writing and the core curriculum so as not to sound like an idiot in front of my students, and to benefit their college experience. I expect them to be competent to learn how to write. It should be open from there. Flying by the seat of your pants is fun.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Teaching Philosophy Thoughts
I thought I'd do a little independent research for the blog entry on teaching philosophies. According to the definition of one website I went to, a teaching philosophy is "a self-reflective statement of your beliefs about teaching and learning." To my mind, this says that every teaching philosophy is different, since they're individually tailored. One could use "The Incredibles" logic to say that because all teaching philosophies are different/unique, none of them are, but I'm just being difficult for the sake of doing so.
I've enjoyed thinking about my own teaching philosophy a great deal, both in terms of what I'd like to do in a classroom and in terms of what I've enjoyed as far as learning experiences have gone over the years. The best teachers I've had kept me active without driving me nuts. My sophomore year (of high school) English teacher, for example, used to do in class activities designed to generate an emotional response from the audience related to what the characters were experiencing in whatever we were reading (ex: when we read 1984, she generated paranoia, when we read Animal Farm, she ostracized one of the most popular kids in the class for two days). While this could be traumatic at times, it made me like what we were reading more, because it made me sympathetic to the characters in question.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure something so creative fits in with our composition curriculum, but my philosophy would, as best as I could make it do so, center around keeping the students moving. You want them to understand the material, and to understand it, they have to relate to it. When I watched Aaron Alford teach, he used Dave Chappelle videos to illustrate argument. I thought that was a hell of an idea. Everyone likes Dave Chappelle.
To an extent, there's definitely selfishness in this teaching philosophy. I don't want to be bored any more than the students do, so by keeping them moving, I hope to keep myself moving as well. If I'm engaged, I can teach them better. If I can teach better, they should learn better. I'd want substance when I taught, but there's nothing wrong with a little style, too.
I've enjoyed thinking about my own teaching philosophy a great deal, both in terms of what I'd like to do in a classroom and in terms of what I've enjoyed as far as learning experiences have gone over the years. The best teachers I've had kept me active without driving me nuts. My sophomore year (of high school) English teacher, for example, used to do in class activities designed to generate an emotional response from the audience related to what the characters were experiencing in whatever we were reading (ex: when we read 1984, she generated paranoia, when we read Animal Farm, she ostracized one of the most popular kids in the class for two days). While this could be traumatic at times, it made me like what we were reading more, because it made me sympathetic to the characters in question.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure something so creative fits in with our composition curriculum, but my philosophy would, as best as I could make it do so, center around keeping the students moving. You want them to understand the material, and to understand it, they have to relate to it. When I watched Aaron Alford teach, he used Dave Chappelle videos to illustrate argument. I thought that was a hell of an idea. Everyone likes Dave Chappelle.
To an extent, there's definitely selfishness in this teaching philosophy. I don't want to be bored any more than the students do, so by keeping them moving, I hope to keep myself moving as well. If I'm engaged, I can teach them better. If I can teach better, they should learn better. I'd want substance when I taught, but there's nothing wrong with a little style, too.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Blog: Nemesis
As mid-terms are now over for both me AND the undergrads, I now have time to catch up on what I've been neglecting for...dear God, a month. Last entry: September 30th. That's just embarrassing. Let's do this thing...
The next blog prompt on the docket seems like it's sort of a general self assessment; an examination of issues we're wrestling with as future teachers/current document instructors/academic theorists. What am I wrestling with? Nothing, so far, has struck me a huge curve ball. Lubbock itself is an adjustment; I really feel like my performance as a graduate student would be enhanced if I could get beer at a 7-11 and lived two to three hundred miles closer to my friends, but other than that, things are mostly fine.
Actually, the students themselves surprise me a little, and I am having to wrestle with what they DON'T know relative to my own reality as a college freshman. I'm not trying to sound like an asshole here, but my parents are both academics, and I knew how to write a complete sentence when I got to college. I'm having to condition myself not to judge these people just because they can't write beautifully. On the one hand, I often expect better than what they're handing in, on the other, I know the bulk of them are probably better at math/hard science than I am, and will doubtless make more money than I ever will.
Approaching the students with a less judgmental eye has softened me as a grader. What were Cs at the start of the semester are probably low Bs most of the time now. That only bothers me in that I worry I'll be a malleable instructor next year. Maybe I'm trying to be too nice for this gig.
Anyway, point being- I like grad school. I'm not struggling too hard yet, with anything. We'll see if that sticks.
-Golsan Out
The next blog prompt on the docket seems like it's sort of a general self assessment; an examination of issues we're wrestling with as future teachers/current document instructors/academic theorists. What am I wrestling with? Nothing, so far, has struck me a huge curve ball. Lubbock itself is an adjustment; I really feel like my performance as a graduate student would be enhanced if I could get beer at a 7-11 and lived two to three hundred miles closer to my friends, but other than that, things are mostly fine.
Actually, the students themselves surprise me a little, and I am having to wrestle with what they DON'T know relative to my own reality as a college freshman. I'm not trying to sound like an asshole here, but my parents are both academics, and I knew how to write a complete sentence when I got to college. I'm having to condition myself not to judge these people just because they can't write beautifully. On the one hand, I often expect better than what they're handing in, on the other, I know the bulk of them are probably better at math/hard science than I am, and will doubtless make more money than I ever will.
Approaching the students with a less judgmental eye has softened me as a grader. What were Cs at the start of the semester are probably low Bs most of the time now. That only bothers me in that I worry I'll be a malleable instructor next year. Maybe I'm trying to be too nice for this gig.
Anyway, point being- I like grad school. I'm not struggling too hard yet, with anything. We'll see if that sticks.
-Golsan Out
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Though I haven't enjoyed every reading we've done for class, I think it's good that I've gotten a chance to read about so many different approaches to teaching. Do I think the theories are useful? Sure. If nothing else, being familiar with an assortment of teaching approaches gives one a bigger bag of tricks to try on a class. Are they necessarily important? Ehhh...
Teaching style, like any form of self expression, should be a personal thing. I don't think you need to know a theory to find that style, it should come naturally, over time. That said, if you're having trouble finding your feet, a skeleton to work with certainly could help you get started...I think the fence is where I'll sit on this one.
Once you HAVE found a teaching style you like (which can certainly change from class to class), I don't think staying up to date on teaching theory is vital. If you know the material you're teaching, you should be able to convey it to your students in an effective manner, without the assistance of some new-fangled theory.
So, in sum- theories are important for new teachers to know, unless they have a naturally developed teaching style. They're unimportant for experienced teachers to know, unless they enjoy staying up to date. I do love the fence.
Golsan Out
Teaching style, like any form of self expression, should be a personal thing. I don't think you need to know a theory to find that style, it should come naturally, over time. That said, if you're having trouble finding your feet, a skeleton to work with certainly could help you get started...I think the fence is where I'll sit on this one.
Once you HAVE found a teaching style you like (which can certainly change from class to class), I don't think staying up to date on teaching theory is vital. If you know the material you're teaching, you should be able to convey it to your students in an effective manner, without the assistance of some new-fangled theory.
So, in sum- theories are important for new teachers to know, unless they have a naturally developed teaching style. They're unimportant for experienced teachers to know, unless they enjoy staying up to date. I do love the fence.
Golsan Out
Monday, September 22, 2008
Process This
My writing process isn't something one should emulate. While at times effective, it's fueled by pervasive fear of failure and heavy doses of insecurity. "This sucks, why bother? Get a job..." tends to be the internal rumbling while I type away. As far as the process, it's a disorganized, variable thing. I pre-write (when I'm doing creative stuff) on a dry erase board next to my desk, and periodically in a notebook I carry around, although really, the latter occurs because I think carrying around a nifty little notebook and scrawling in it is a very writerly thing to do. Sometimes beer helps, sometimes it doesn't...I don't know. I believe much more strongly in environment control than process.
You need to be comfortable where you are to write effectively. Find out what's most conducive to focusing on what you're doing as far as location, noise level, etc. I need pretty much total silence to write; if there's a TV or a radio on, I can't do it. I also like to sit back in a soft chair and wear only boxers when possible. Tragically, this limits the amount of writing I can do in libraries in coffee shops.
I don't think process is something you need to TEACH to students, but it's definitely something they should be encouraged to find on their own. Writing can be such a lonely, boring thing if you're not into what you're writing about. If you have a process that makes the ordeal more efficient, things become more bearable. If you wanted to work process exercises into class, I suppose you could do something similar to the voice exercises we discussed about. Hand the kids a sheet of paper, say "Go anywhere you want, do anything you want, and give me a paragraph on topic X by the end of the hour," and watch them go to work. It won't be instantaneous, but it might help students find what works.
If you do find a process, stick to it. I feel like this blog is a little disjointed, and I think it's because I wrote it with the TV on in the background.
You need to be comfortable where you are to write effectively. Find out what's most conducive to focusing on what you're doing as far as location, noise level, etc. I need pretty much total silence to write; if there's a TV or a radio on, I can't do it. I also like to sit back in a soft chair and wear only boxers when possible. Tragically, this limits the amount of writing I can do in libraries in coffee shops.
I don't think process is something you need to TEACH to students, but it's definitely something they should be encouraged to find on their own. Writing can be such a lonely, boring thing if you're not into what you're writing about. If you have a process that makes the ordeal more efficient, things become more bearable. If you wanted to work process exercises into class, I suppose you could do something similar to the voice exercises we discussed about. Hand the kids a sheet of paper, say "Go anywhere you want, do anything you want, and give me a paragraph on topic X by the end of the hour," and watch them go to work. It won't be instantaneous, but it might help students find what works.
If you do find a process, stick to it. I feel like this blog is a little disjointed, and I think it's because I wrote it with the TV on in the background.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Voice cannot be directly taught. You can make suggestions as to what might aid one in finding a voice in their writing, but it has to be manufactured internally. To take the time to manufacture or perfect anything, you have to give a damn. The problem I had with all the exercises laid out in the Elbow piece regarding development of voice is that they're all contingent on a student caring enough to practice. When I was a freshman in college, I cared about beer, sex, and video games, with order of importance depending on the day. I don't feel this is an uncommon set of passions for an 18 year-old male (or a 24 year-old one, for that matter). How do you make that guy care about his writing voice?
The only answer I can think of is to let these kids play to their passions as often as possible, no matter what those passions are. Make the classroom comfortable. Convey to them that they won't get in trouble if they write, say, a persuasive piece entitled "Why A Guy/Girl Should Sleep With Me", if that's all they care about. If you've got a socially conscious kid in the group, let them write about about why we should save...something. What's trendy these days? I was about to say "whales", or "rain forests", but the reference felt disturbingly dated. It would be upsetting to be that far out of touch.
I do agree with Elbow in that I think voice is born of passion/motivation. If you can't get a kid to find his voice on something he's passionate about (with the extra motivation of writing for a grade), there's no hope. You don't need voice on a TPS report, anyway.
-Golsan Out
The only answer I can think of is to let these kids play to their passions as often as possible, no matter what those passions are. Make the classroom comfortable. Convey to them that they won't get in trouble if they write, say, a persuasive piece entitled "Why A Guy/Girl Should Sleep With Me", if that's all they care about. If you've got a socially conscious kid in the group, let them write about about why we should save...something. What's trendy these days? I was about to say "whales", or "rain forests", but the reference felt disturbingly dated. It would be upsetting to be that far out of touch.
I do agree with Elbow in that I think voice is born of passion/motivation. If you can't get a kid to find his voice on something he's passionate about (with the extra motivation of writing for a grade), there's no hope. You don't need voice on a TPS report, anyway.
-Golsan Out
Friday, September 12, 2008
The Big Teach
It's fair to say that "Take 20" had little affect on me. It's not that I had anything against the film, it was interesting to see so many veterans of the field packed in together, offering insight, but...I don't know. Am I allowed to admit in a teaching class that teaching isn't precisely my post graduate goal?
If teaching and academia are where I end up, I'd be fine with that. You could do FAR worse than teaching (I, in fact, have done far worse, many times), but I want to be a writer. Novels, movies, video games- I don't care as long as I can throw words on a page that entertain people. Breaking into any of those brands of writing is a long shot, but improving my shot at them is why I'm here. To watch "Take 20" was to observe a passion that isn't mine.
Don't get the wrong idea, I still plan to work hard for my students while I'm here in school. Their growth as writers reflects on me as an instructor, and frankly, I've got an ego to feed. It is important to me that I do well by them. That said, I don't see myself getting terribly worked up about what I'm going to wear to class, how I'm going to conduct myself with students, etc. The best teachers/professors I've had have always been the ones who were professional, informative, and supportive. If I can play it relatively close to those standards, I think I'll be ok...said the potentially naive graduate student.
-Golsan Out
If teaching and academia are where I end up, I'd be fine with that. You could do FAR worse than teaching (I, in fact, have done far worse, many times), but I want to be a writer. Novels, movies, video games- I don't care as long as I can throw words on a page that entertain people. Breaking into any of those brands of writing is a long shot, but improving my shot at them is why I'm here. To watch "Take 20" was to observe a passion that isn't mine.
Don't get the wrong idea, I still plan to work hard for my students while I'm here in school. Their growth as writers reflects on me as an instructor, and frankly, I've got an ego to feed. It is important to me that I do well by them. That said, I don't see myself getting terribly worked up about what I'm going to wear to class, how I'm going to conduct myself with students, etc. The best teachers/professors I've had have always been the ones who were professional, informative, and supportive. If I can play it relatively close to those standards, I think I'll be ok...said the potentially naive graduate student.
-Golsan Out
Thursday, September 4, 2008
180
I fear for potential error in my execution of this prompt. Should I be saying why we teach first year writing per the readings we've done so far, or can I make up my own answer??? Three question marks' worth of uncertainty is a lot to handle this early in the morning. I'm going to give you my answer. Damn the torpedoes.
We teach first year writing because everyone should be at least coherent on paper. If your work aspirations take you beyond the floor of Lowe's, you're going to have to write SOMETHING, some day, no matter what you're doing professionally. Of course, you could argue that basic writing skills are obtained in high school, and thus a mandatory course for college students is unnecessary, and I might have agreed with you, right up until I started grading freshman assignments. These kids need help. Lots of help.
WHAT we should be teaching, at least at first, are nuts and bolts. The "What is Composition and Why do we Teach it?" article speaks highly of writing ambitiously rather than pursuing perfection on a more rudimentary subject, but you need to learn to use a hammer before you start building a house (does this contradict my first blog? Yes, a little. Whatever). Once we've got the rules drilled into these kids, the next part of the course should be dedicated to organizing their writing. Being clear and direct is vital for both further college writing (in any subject), as well as professional writing. It's possible I'm insulting these kids, but the bulk of them are coming out of the Texas state schools' system, and TAAS/TAKS/whatever the grand assessment it is they're taking these days doesn't teach you to write worth a damn. I know this because I went through the same system.
Once they've got the tools and the frame down, THEN the students should start really working on the jazzy stuff I talked about in the first entry, i.e., developing their own voice, being a fun and exciting writer, etc. The spark of individuality is secondary to learning how to place a comma. Freshman writing in three paragraphs or less, James style.
-Golsan out
We teach first year writing because everyone should be at least coherent on paper. If your work aspirations take you beyond the floor of Lowe's, you're going to have to write SOMETHING, some day, no matter what you're doing professionally. Of course, you could argue that basic writing skills are obtained in high school, and thus a mandatory course for college students is unnecessary, and I might have agreed with you, right up until I started grading freshman assignments. These kids need help. Lots of help.
WHAT we should be teaching, at least at first, are nuts and bolts. The "What is Composition and Why do we Teach it?" article speaks highly of writing ambitiously rather than pursuing perfection on a more rudimentary subject, but you need to learn to use a hammer before you start building a house (does this contradict my first blog? Yes, a little. Whatever). Once we've got the rules drilled into these kids, the next part of the course should be dedicated to organizing their writing. Being clear and direct is vital for both further college writing (in any subject), as well as professional writing. It's possible I'm insulting these kids, but the bulk of them are coming out of the Texas state schools' system, and TAAS/TAKS/whatever the grand assessment it is they're taking these days doesn't teach you to write worth a damn. I know this because I went through the same system.
Once they've got the tools and the frame down, THEN the students should start really working on the jazzy stuff I talked about in the first entry, i.e., developing their own voice, being a fun and exciting writer, etc. The spark of individuality is secondary to learning how to place a comma. Freshman writing in three paragraphs or less, James style.
-Golsan out
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Writing is hard. I've re-started this blog six times now. SIX. I'm getting paid to write fiction for the next two years. In theory, that says I'm an at least serviceable writer, and yet here I sit, failing over and over again to get an opening paragraph to sound the way I want it to. If you're Joe Engineering Freshman who HATES writing, I can only imaging how daunting putting fingers to keyboard must be. As of now, I feel under qualified to offer suggestions on fighting the fear. It haunts me constantly. I do know, though, when I've produced writing that makes the fear seem at least temporarily misplaced. These are the three most vital concepts/components I try to keep in mind while composing fiction/academic writing, and what I look for while obsessively re-reading my own work.
1. SENSE OF VOICE
It's a tried and true one, but it really is vital that it sounds like YOU wrote this paper. Don't just regurgitate information. Tell it to me. Make me believe that information is being imparted to me by a thoroughly fascinating, knowledgeable, confident individual. You matter. You're interesting(most of you). Let your readers know as much.
2. CLARITY
Do not fill your writing with bullshit. You have a point to make. Make it, without doing so at the expense of that voice we just talked about, but don't over do it. You should have a thesis that you're sticking to and doggedly proving to your readers with each passing paragraph. Be explicit, be aggressive.
3. ENTERTAINMENT
Voice and clarity won't make much of an impact on your reader if they fall asleep halfway through your paper. Like I said, I'm a fiction writer, and it's possible that I over-emphasize this point, but seriously, don't be boring. No audience likes boring writing. If you handle the first two concepts, then number three here should really take care of itself.
If you nail the above concepts, all the time, you can write anything. I find that a pervasive sense of terror that you'll fail in life if you CAN'T execute them helps focus tremendously.
-Golsan Out
1. SENSE OF VOICE
It's a tried and true one, but it really is vital that it sounds like YOU wrote this paper. Don't just regurgitate information. Tell it to me. Make me believe that information is being imparted to me by a thoroughly fascinating, knowledgeable, confident individual. You matter. You're interesting(most of you). Let your readers know as much.
2. CLARITY
Do not fill your writing with bullshit. You have a point to make. Make it, without doing so at the expense of that voice we just talked about, but don't over do it. You should have a thesis that you're sticking to and doggedly proving to your readers with each passing paragraph. Be explicit, be aggressive.
3. ENTERTAINMENT
Voice and clarity won't make much of an impact on your reader if they fall asleep halfway through your paper. Like I said, I'm a fiction writer, and it's possible that I over-emphasize this point, but seriously, don't be boring. No audience likes boring writing. If you handle the first two concepts, then number three here should really take care of itself.
If you nail the above concepts, all the time, you can write anything. I find that a pervasive sense of terror that you'll fail in life if you CAN'T execute them helps focus tremendously.
-Golsan Out
Saturday, August 30, 2008
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