Anthony, Monica L. “Caught Between Skin Color and Dialect: A Non-Essentialist View of Black English.” Working With Student Writers: Essays on Tutoring and Teaching (1999): 271-83.

                In her article “Caught Between Skin Color and Dialect: A Non-Essentialist View of Black English” Monica L. Anthony confronts prevailing essentialist assumptions of Black English and its implications concerning race, stereotyping, and cultural and individual identity. Anthony begins by pointing out that the term “Black English” is too often interpreted as “English that black people speak,” (271), and that even linguistic literature fails to differentiate between African Americans of diverse dialectical origins. She contends that not only do not all black people speak Black English but that most white people do not use what is considered to be standard English. Although language is socially determined and Anthony was raised in a community where primarily standard English was spoken, people expect her as an African American woman to speak Black English. Anthony describes her experience interacting in a predominately Black English-speaking community for the first time in college and attempting to transform her “white girl voice” to become “more black” (274) so that she would fit in socially.

Anthony also negotiates her own critical perception of Black English which stems partly from her view of standard English as “correct and deviations (as) incorrect.” While Anthony distinguishes “incorrect” from “inferior” (275) she further explains that because society associates Black English with negative stereotypical images of black women that continued use of Black English perpetuates these images. In the final segment of her article, Anthony shares several dialogues between herself and two of her close friends in which they discuss Black English and its impact upon their lives. One of Anthony’s friends, Michelle, is a code switcher, meaning that she uses standard English in the public sphere and Black English in her private circles. Sonya, Anthony’s other friend who uses Black English almost exclusively, has been advised to take speech therapy so that she can develop standard English in preparation for her master’s orals in psychology. In their discussion, which quickly evolves into a heated argument, “las tres amigas” (277) examine societal pressures to adopt and utilize either Black English or standard English in certain settings, particularly in academia. They also debate whether or not Anthony should be willing to accept if not appreciate Black English as an aspect of black culture even though “white America” (281) propagates negative stereotypes related to Black English. Anthony ultimately concludes that society’s expectation that African Americans either should speak or should not speak Black English “all boils down to racism,” (282), in which people hear skin color and see dialect.

Mike Rose, “Rigid Rules, Inflexible Plans, and the Stifling of Language: A Cognitivist Analysis of Writer’s Block."  Landmark Essays on Writing Process ed.Sondra Perl

             In his article Mike Rose discusses results and conclusions from a study he conducted on UCLA undergraduates regarding writer’s block.  He interviewed ten students who represented a fair mix of the community.  They ranged from lower-middle-class to upper-middle-class high schools, third-world and Caucasian origins, biology to fine arts majors, C+ to A- grade point averages, and enthusiastic to nonchalant attitudes toward school.  All ten of them were capable of good writing, but five suffered from writer’s block while the other five were able to compose with ease.  Rose conducted between one and three interviews with each student, and read notes, drafts, and completed papers to guide his questions.

            Rose wished to discover if the cause of writer’s block was emotionally based, (that is embedded in fear of evaluation, anxiety, etc) part of the cognitive process or a melding of the two.  He discovered that the five students suffering from writer’s block were all holding fast to styles of writing which hindered their composing process.  The other five also utilized rules within the writing process, however, they were much less rigid and inflexible, therefore allowing ideas to flow. 

            In the article, Rose breaks down the basic steps of problem solving.  The first is the introductory period where a problem is presented; he notes that all theorists believe that during this stage some aspects of the problem become more important than others.  It is also stated that theorists believe that some amount of stress or conflict actually trigger problem solving.  The second phase is the processing period, during which the writer, through a series of information-processing, decides upon a solution to the problem.  Many theorists believe that past learning and experience has an important impact on the quality of the solution.  The solution period occurs at completion when closure is achieved.

            The next section defines types of rules.  Rose quotes Robert M. Gagne for a definition of the word and its implication, “an inferred capability that enables the individual to respond to a class of stimulus situations with a class of performances…rules are probably the major organizing factor, and quite possibly the primary one, in intellectual functioning”.   Rose then breaks rules down into algorithms and heuristics.  Algorithms are concrete rules that will always generate a specific answer when used.  Many mathematical rules are algorithms.  However, the in everyday life the world is not precise enough to apply algorithms, instead, we often look to heuristics.  These are guidelines that allow for flexibility, but will not always produce a predictable or correct answer.

            Rose acknowledges that everyone, in some form, plans.  He cites Miller, Galanter, and Pribram’s plan in problem-solving behavior known as TOTE.  The first T stands for a test that will correspond with a possible solution to the problem.  The O represents the word operate, which is used to see if the comparison between solution and goal shows that the given solution will result in completion.  The second T is for further testing.  Finally if the tests prove correct then the person moves on to E and exits.  Rose states that plans are formed from a series of rules – both heuristic and algorithmic. 

            Rose examines writing as a problem-solving process and focuses on what occurs when the process is halted through writer’s block.  He opposes Flower and Hayes in that he believes more rules and plans often create this block, due to their inflexibility or inappropriateness.

            During the following section, Rose discusses some of the students he studied.  The first was told many times that a good essay must attract a reader’s attention immediately, and that until this is achieved there is no reason to continue.  However, she was never told exactly what the audience was seeking, or what would grab their attention.  She also abides by the rule that if a sentence is not grammatically correct it is not useful, and therefore she is prohibited from exercises like free writing.  Both the rules restrict her composing process.

            The second student, Laurel, produced papers that were weeks overdue.  Some sections were well written but most of the prose appeared rushed.  He also noted that in one essay there was a paragraph that had little to do with the rest of the paper.  Laurel’s response was that she knew it didn’t fit, but believed it was necessary to round out the paper.  She had been taught throughout high school and college that, “You must always make three or more points in an essay.  If the essay has less, then it’s not strong”. 

            Martha, a biology major, refuses to begin writing until she has had two days to produce an incredibly complex outline.  Rose states that these more closely resemble a complex DNA structure than a static traditional outline.  However, these outlines often lead to problems.  Martha finds that she can never include all elements of the outline into a compact paper.

            Mikes problem was also rooted in the planning stage.  He correctly believes that in order to solve a problem one must first come up with a strategy.  The trouble occurs with the fact that once he forms a plan it is written in stone.  When it does not fit an assignment he tries to unsuccessfully mold it.  Rose concludes that his approach is much too mechanical.

            Sylvia’s problem stems from having too many rules in turn she suffers from great anxiety in trying to decide which to use.  She puts incredible weight on the first paragraph, and will spend five hours making it perfect before moving on.  Sylvia also has difficulty with meshing rules together.  For instance, she believes that adequate transitions result in a flow of writing and that evidence creates substance.  However, she will often follow one to the extreme, excluding the other. 

            Rose then switches his attention to the non-blockers.  He found that the rules these students adhered to were much less rigid, for instance “try to keep the audience in mind”.  They believe that rules are there to help writing, and when they go against what the writer has deemed as logical they should be rejected.  The plans that non-blockers follow often appear almost too broad or fluid to be of use.  The only firm rules that these students follow are ones similar to, “When stuck, write”, otherwise they work with easily modified or discarded rules.  At the end of this section Rose makes an interesting suggestion for further research, he wonders if the lack of precision is actually hiding habitually enacted sub-routines.

            Rose concludes his article with a clear analysis of his findings.  Many of the rules blockers followed were in no way “wrong”, such as creating a solid opening paragraph.  The problem arose when students turned this rule into an algorithm rather than a heuristic.  By doing so the are not allowing for flexible access to the problem

            As with all problem solving, students use their backgrounds to create solutions.  However, occasionally this will cause them to misinterpret the task.  A clear example is Martha’s need for full coverage and detail.

            Rose then addresses Mike’s problem with planning.  He infers that his plans are not actually plans, that they represent a “closed system” type of thinking and become “static cognitive blueprints”.  Rose believes that writing requires open exploratory thinking.

            Rose states that the difficulties found by blockers are made stronger by the fact that they’re often isolated from any type of feedback.  He suggests discussing papers with professors in order to step outside your own self imposed rules and goals.

            The article concludes by proclaiming that dysfunctional rules can easily be replaced by functional ones and that students can be trained to know which rules apply to certain situations.  Inflexible plans, such as Mike’s, are solved by pointing out their obvious dysfunction.

            I found this article to be very informative.  I think it is interesting that often times the writers that appear to have really tried in writing classes, to follow every rule and please teachers are the ones that tended to suffer from writer’s block and often produce work of poor quality.  Rose’s conclusions appeared to very reasonable.  Since writing is such a complex process it would follow that rules need to be flexible enough to work around it.  I think that writing is taught much too rigidly in schools.  Everyone has suffered through the five paragraph essay, even though a different structure may have produced a more complete paper.  Teachers need to profess that rules are there for help and guidance and should be used accordingly.  When rules are presented as dogma it will inevitably create stress and anxiety which will only further impede the writer’s progress.—Alice Murphy, 9-15-02

Shang, H.F; A COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS ON ALTERNATIVE APPROACHES TO LITERACY INSTRUCTION; International Journal of Lifelong Education, 02601370, Jul2000, Vol. 19, Issue 4

         Shang gathers the four “alternative approaches” to teaching English and reviews each in a manner very similar to last week’s reading from Faigley. He points at the change in goals of literacy instruction in the US due to waves of non-English speaking immigrants and even second generation citizens that do not hear or see English in their homes.

            The four methods he looks at are the natural approach, the whole language approach, a leaner-centered approach and a participatory approach. Each is set up differently, and focuses on teach language, usually to those who have little or no exposure to it, in its entirety. Each incorporated the learners own experiences and values more than a traditional approach, but requires the learners to be more actively involved in their education. None of these methods would work for kids who don’t want to learn, or who are not interested in their own education.

            In the end he concludes that the best programs are learner focused, but can incorporate ideas from the other methods of learning. He also believes that educators, no matter how good their methods and programs are, should not remain set in their ways or ever devalue their students.

            I liked that he valued the teacher-student relationship, I agree that if a student is more connected to their teacher, they will be more invested in their education. I learned the most from teachers I liked, and wanted to have like me. Shang's advice to get to know students, to show an interest in their lives and even in their first language and the customs that are part of their lives was different. Many teachers think that they should limit students speaking in their first languages if they want them to learn a new one. People must feel like they can express themselves, and that they will be understood, or else they will pull away from the teacher, and the learning.

        It was nice to have someone come out and say that most alternative methods will not work for people who are not interested or motivated. In some ESL classes that I have seen, especially in middle school the kids ignore the English and just use their own. They have no interest in expanding their vocabularies or becoming good writers in a language they don’t care for. But I do think that if more programs used these alternatives, letting the students be more invested in what they were learning from the beginning, more kids would care. And they would be able to learn so much more, without having to let go of who they are, and the language and customs they come from.--Matisse Michalski, 9/29/02

Hochhauser, Mark.  Writing for Staff, Employees, Patients, and Family Members, “Hospital Topics.”  Winter98, Vol76.  Ebsco Host. Julia Rogers Library, Goucher College 24, September, 2002 

In Mark Hochhauser’s article, Writing for Staff, Employees, Patients, and Family Members, he pays tribute to the audience of written works.  From research Hochhauser concludes that many Americans cannot read on higher educational levels, so expecting them to read, and actually understand, prestigious, academic text is unfair.  Instead of drawing his conclusions and ending the article, he goes on to suggest solutions to the problem.  Through techniques like “dumbing down” the text and assessing works with writing programs, the writer may successfully deliver complex ideas in a way in which the intended audience can understand and appreciate. 

First, Hochhauser provides the reader with statistics to prove that there is a problem that needs to be addressed by any and all writers.  He states, “About 25 percent of Americans have less than a high school diploma, 30 percent are high school graduates, 25 percent have some college or an associates degree, 13 percent have a bachelors degree and 7 percent have a graduate degree,” (Hochhauser, 1).  Not only do the previous statistics show the lack of education and explain why the majority of the population struggles with reading, he adds more disturbing evidence to why the audience needs to be considered in writing.  Through research, Hochhauser came across a study done to test the actual reading ability of people.  He found that “although the patients averaged 12.5 years of education, their reading vocabulary was at grade 11.3 and their reading comprehension at grade 10.5,” (Hochhauser, 2).  In other words, the level of education someone completed may not run parallel with his or her “true” reading level. 

Next, Hochhauser distinguishes the differences between good and bad readers and how the reader’s reading ability affects comprehension of texts.  He simply lists the obvious characteristics of good readers as he writes, “Good readers get help with unusual words,” “are persistent” and “understand the context of the writing,” (Hochhauser, 2).  He contrasts these ideas with the observations that “poor readers often skip over unusual words and tire easily” and “poor readers miss the context…and are often unable to connect what they read to their own lives,” (Hochhauser, 2).  Since not all readers classify under the good category, Hochhauser questions the fairness of making the “bad readers” tackle tough text, like health plans, and end up with well-thought out decisions.  More than likely, the reader does not understand what he or she just read.  According to Hochhauser, since health plans and other academic writings are written on higher educational levels, only 45 percent of the country is capable of comprehending and possibly making life-altering decisions (unless there are readers that found a way to master tough text without formal education). 

Lastly, Hochhauser offers suggestions to strengthen written works and still allow the audience to understand the information.  He proposes using a technique called “dumbing down” the text.  By “dumbing down” he simply means writing the work using words and sentence structure from the English language that most people will understand.   For those whom believe using this technique lessens the writer’s intelligence, he recommends another technique.  He writes it is as easy as, “Giv[ing] group participants your written materials and a highlighter to identify those sections that they have a hard time understanding,” (Hochhauser, 3).  By simply asking the person revising the work if there is any part of the paper that they do not understand, the writer avoids creating a text that the audience will struggle with.  Following the previous methods should ensure a written work that the audience should understand, and maybe even, enjoy.

Hochhauser’s article relates to class, as the importance of audience is the main focus in the article and we discuss audience on many occasions.  Unlike Peter Elbow’s article, Closing My Eyes as I Speak: An argument for Ignoring Audience, Hochhauser encourages writers to not only consider the intended audience but also the reading level.  Hochhauser thinks writing on the level of the reader produces a better work of writing that can be understood and appreciated by the reader.  Elbow may argue that focusing on the audience and choosing simpler word choice and sentence structure may in fact weaken the written piece.

Although I totally agree with his argument, at times I thought he took it a little too far.  I do think it is important to recognize that not all people are educated on the same level so some texts, like healthcare plans, need to be universal for the sake of half of the country.  Unfortunately, replacing words like discontinue (the supposed complicated word) with stop (the simple term) seems a little elementary.  Of course that statement holds biasness as it comes from an educated person.  The same idea can be brought into the classrooms at Goucher.  Professors could easily find simple works to articulate the lesson in the same way, if not better, than an academic text.  However, the texts would not be accepted as scholarly and the professors may then be accused of not enhancing our knowledge and giving us greater critical thinking skills, which is the reason for receiving a higher education in the first place.  Making two different versions of written works, one for the educated and one for the less educated, is ludicrous but having one elite work is unfair. So what is the solution?--Sidney R. Saunders, 10/9/02

Chapman, Carmen.  Authentic Writing Assessment.  “ERIC Digest.”  (2002): 1-3.  Ebsco Host. Julia Rogers Library, Goucher College 17, September, 2002

            In Carmen Chapman’s article, Authentic Writing Assessment, he explores the idea of writing being used as a form of assessment for students in checking their understanding of a concept.  Using writing to assess a student’s development can be universal in all disciplines.  He states, “if mathematics instructors have students write explanations for their procedures for solving problems, the instructors can evaluate the students’ ability to perform the task without relying solely on the correct—or incorrect—numerical answer to measure achievement,” (Chapman, 1).  With the students writing out their thought process when solving a math problem, the instructor sees exactly where the student went wrong and can offer specific aid instead of just marking the response incorrect and taking off points.

            Chapman goes on to present a format for the writing assessment.  The concept that the student tries to explain must be constructed in an essay that includes or excludes previous knowledge and excersises, “planning, outlining, or even revising,” (Chapman, 1).  Resembling an English paper, the essay must have the following components: “Focus,” “Elaboration,” “Organization” and “Conventions,” (Chapman, 2).  The components cover the normal essay writing criteria: a main ides, supporting details, transitions and correct grammar usage.  The only difference in writing assessment and essay writing lies in the grading.  Instead of receiving a grade, the instructor simply scores the writing on a scale where “writing at the lower end of the scale is describes as “not being developed” rather than being “poor” or “weak”,” (Chapman, 2).  Instead of discouraging the student with a final grade, deeming the work as “weak” offers more hope for improvement in the students eyes, and may even increase his or her thirst for improvement.

            Although the writing assessment process spread to many other academic disciplines, it still held the same characteristics of the robotic five-paragraph essay.  The technique asks for the same components and even has the requirements in order to be successful.  The idea has its positives and negatives.  For example, lets consider a math test.  For the students whom understand the concept but make silly addition mistakes, written assessment will be a benefit.  However, every math class has a student that can get the right answer every time but cannot explain it, nonetheless articulate it through writing.  Nothing can be taken away from the concept as no idea is perfect nor does it accommodate everyone. 

I would have liked to see some results or statistics showing the effectiveness of the assessment.  I also wonder if the assessment serves as practice for essay writing, and if so, is there an improvement in the students’ English essay writing due to the constant writing assessment practice.  My last question concerns the long-term effects of using this form of testing.  I remember doing a form of writing assessment in science and math, and I wonder if that form of testing finalized my very structured, machine-like style of writing.  If so, I would not recommend using writing assessment too often, because the habit is too hard to break (something that I am struggling with right now)!--Sidney Saunders, 10/9/02

Wechsler, Robert. “America’s Woeful Devaluation of Literary Translation.” The Chronicle of Higher Education 2 Oct. 1998: B4.

 “Poetry is what gets lost in translation.” –Robert Frost (1) 

Robert Wechsler, an editor of literary translations and author of Performing Without a Stage: The Art of Literary Translation, poses the following vital questions in his article: “Why is it that, although translation is so clearly the best way for young writers to focus on form, so few creative-writing programs offer seminars on translation? Why is there so little discussion by academics of the quality and prejudices of the translations they teach, so few comparisons of multiple translations? Why, when they do publish literature by professional writers in other languages, do university presses often sign up graduate students or people who are not fully proficient in English to do those translations?” (3)

Allow me to back up some. Being a translator is a very misleading profession. He or she can be compared with an actor, dancer, or musician in that he or she is bound to the author, as they are bound to the playwright, the choreographer, and composer, respectively (1). The difference lies, however, in the extent to which interpretation is allowed in each profession. The translator is “praised primarily for not being seen,” (1) for the production of a perfectly flawless work, defined by as little discrepancy as possible between the original and the translation. “He [or she] [sic] is a performer without a stage, an artist whose performance looks just like the original, nothing but ink on a page” (1). It is here that the root of the problem lies. How is a reader to judge the value of a translation when proof of the success of his or her work lays in our not being able to notice its trace? How are we to tell between work that is intrusive and distorting, from that which is accurate and consistent with true meaning, and all the various levels of interpretation in between? The readers are the sufferers: “we are hampered not only by ignorance, but also by prejudice” (1). Beggars, however, cannot be choosers, and since the majority of the world’s poets wrote in a language other than English, (2) we take what we can get. We trade a little bit of cultural literary richness for a great deal of meaning and culture left behind in translation.

Wechsler raises the question of how far a translator’s fidelity to the original text should stretch. On one hand, he or she can translate literally, virtually word-for word. This may, however, leave gaping holes that a foreign reader may be simply incapable of understanding. But on the other hand, the translator’s task may be to translate meaning and culture through the work. Should experimentation and interpretation be part of the job? Certainly accountability is always a major factor in translating.

Language is defined, in part, by its literary works. Constant allusions are made in English to Fitzgerald, for example, to Robert Frost, Hawthorn, Poe, Kipling, and Alice Walker. There is so much meaning and so many connotations attached to these works—so much culture. Even the best translation would insufficiently translate everything that American literature symbolizes to Americans. To an American, The Great Gatsby means the American dream, money, immorality, the shallowness of the upper class, the 1920s; to a Frenchman, however, it is not much more than a good book that somehow had a great influence over American society. Alejandra, a Puerto Rican friend of mine, has spoken with me about the wonder of reading Pablo Neruda’s poetry in Spanish, a pleasure that simply cannot be translated over into English. I personally equate this with my love for the poetry of Jacques Prévert. No translation can do its beauty and eloquence justice. It is obvious that it is only when one has the fortune of being bilingual and bicultural can one see how horrendously appalling translations really are. Dangerous, disheartening, and scary are other appropriate adjectives that describe this dilemma.

Bell, Madison Smartt.  Narrative Design.  “Unconscious Mind.”  W.W. Norton & Company, New York, N.Y.  1997.

         Madison’s chapter titled “Unconscious Mind” from his book Narrative Design discusses the para­dox of teaching creative writing.  One of the difficulties of teaching creative writing is because it is so new.  The novel “found its feet” in the nineteenth century, and the modern short story “is mainly a twentieth-century phenomenon” (3).  The Iowa Model of workshops is one of the oldest and most used.  The rumor is that Iowa has an institutional style- that is Iowa writers write like Iowa writers.  Madison taught at Iowa and found this not to be the case; the real problem was stu­dents gravitating toward group-consensus, that is trying to please everybody with their work and ending up with moderate, mediocre writing.  The creative mind is likened to a black box that no one but the writer can open or know what’s inside.  The workshop is “craft-driven” but the “black box” is left alone.  Madison discusses the relationship, and symbiotic relationship, of craft and structure, and the creative or unconscious mind, in the rest of the chapter.  Using the analogy of learning to play the guitar up to the point of improvising, and an infant learning to speak, Madison explains the importance of form.  “Ultimately, form is where it’s at” (18).  He includes an anec­dote of Gordon Lish’s speech at a writers’s conference where from four images written on the back of business cards, Lish improvises a two hour story- it was recorded and later transcribed as a novel.  The point is again about form.  “He knew how he was going to do it, but not just what he was going to do.  In that limited sense, he was free” (20).  The analogy to musical improvisation is furthered in that skills have been learned consciously and deployed unconsciously (21).  The argument in the chapter is that form is the basis for good writing, and creativity works around form to create fiction writing.  “The form of a work is its skeleton, if not its heart.  There is the articulating armature, and if it is absent, or if too much is wrong with it, no quantity of fine writ­ing will bring the work to life-- the story will not stand or walk or live” (22).

         Madison’s chapter relates directly to our discussions about of what academic writing consists, and what the tutor can do to help students get the most out of their papers.  Our arguments circle around form and sustenance, and we often don’t know which to emphasize more.  This chapter ties the two together inseparably.  This chapter does something that surprises me.  I’m a creative writer by nature, and Madison’s essay tells me that form is the heart of my work.  I had the heart located in the wrong part of my creative body.  The creative unconscious mind- the secret and secretive black box- attaches to form, and the two create a living work.  The idea might surprise academic writers too who assume, like I did, that creative writing centers on “creativity”, and form gets tossed out the window.  Now the two genres look like they are more similar than ever.  Why not then, teach creative writing as if it were academic, and academic writing as if it were cre­ative?  The first happens already as Madison explained: the creative workshop, whether poetry or fiction, is “craft-driven”.  Academic writing isn’t workshopped generally, except perhaps one-on- one in a Writing Center.  Why not then teach academic writing as a creative pursuit, and leave the “black box” of academic structure well enough alone.  This is assuming two things: one, that the creative writer has a black box of creativity, and the academic writer has a black box of academic structure.  Creative writers are taught with the assumption that they can use creativity in their work.  Why not teach academic writers to the point that they can stop looking so hard at the struc­ture of their work, and just create on top of that structure, letting their work come alive?--C. Talley English  10/12/02

Barnes, Julian E.  “Wanted: Readers.” 9 September 2002. U.S News and World Report. Vol. 133, Issue 9.

            While high school students’ average math scores on the SAT rose 15 points in the last decade, the verbal mean rose only 4 points, and was at its worst this year since 1995 (1).  Barnes’ article blames a cultural “dumbing-down,” but unlike many people who complain about the ignorance of today’s youth, it faults the education system rather than those it attempts to educate.  Some of those quoted in the article blame the diminishing role of reading in the everyday lives of Americans (1).  Others say today’s students need the copious grammar drills of years past (1-2).  Barnes’ only conclusion is that “educators should re-examine what and how they’re teaching (1-2).”

            So what exactly is the problem, and what can the education system do about it?  Obviously, the way young people learn reading and writing skills has changed in the past few decades.  Some still read on their own, but in most households, reading is no longer the central feature of entertainment that it once was.  Reading and writing are still very much present in English classrooms, but other media are edging them out to a small degree.  Barnes cites an anecdote about a sixteen-year-old high school student.  For her summer reading project, the student would have preferred to write an essay about Lyndon Johnson.  Her teacher insisted that she turn in an individual paragraph accompanied by pictures from the Internet.  While searching for the pictures might have value as an exercise in research skills, such high-tech assignments do take away from time that students in generations past would have spent reading or writing.

            So many skills are important; where should English classes’ focus be?  In my opinion, it doesn’t need to be in just one area, as it often is, particularly in high school.  When I entered high school, I was upset that English classes focused almost exclusively on reading from the literary canon and writing analytical essays.  Middle school had led me to expect more variety.  In my middle school English classes, we did read books and write essays about them.  We also spent a great deal of time on grammar drills, and some on learning to research.  Yet somehow, there was time to learn about poetry by making our own “poetry portfolios,” and to improve our comprehension of Greek mythology by writing stories from the gods’ points of view.  These interdisciplinary assignments gave us opportunities to learn several things at once, and even enjoy the process.  Maybe teachers at all levels should combine the things they need to teach by using such creative methods of teaching.

            A significant factor in education in recent years is standardized testing.  I do understand their purpose; it’s important to make sure that everyone learns the same things, if they’re important things.  Still, I think administrators and therefore teachers and students place too much emphasis on them; the motivation behind most of my high school teachers’ lessons and my classmates’ and my questions was the content of the almighty Regents.  Easier than to eliminate these exams or to keep people from focusing on them would be to change what is on them.  After all, as the common complaint goes, a test score demonstrates only one thing—how good a student is at meeting the standards of a particular test.  When mechanics are a significant portion of a test’s score, it’s understandable for teachers and students to find themselves caring intensely about mechanics.  The essay portions recently added to the SAT and ACT are a step in the right direction, and I imagine that they’ve made some difference in lesson plans.  I just hope the graders of these essays places more emphasis on content than on whether paragraphs are indented or words spelled correctly.  (Public folder postings tend to inexplicably un-indent my writing; does that change its quality?  I’m afraid teachers who would think it does.)---Shoshana Flax, October 12, 2002

Kirchner , Bharti.  “Putting Emotion into your Fiction.”  Writer 111 (1998): 20-24. 

            This article is written by a fiction novel writer who explores the importance of emotional investment in writing.  Early on she makes the observation that as she composed “a sentence or paragraph, [she] felt the emotion [her]self”  (20).  She believes that her own emotions will “make [her] reader feel” as well, which in turn will keep them more engaged in her writing (20).  She uses examples from her novel and others to demonstrate how emotion improves writing by contrasting those passages with rewritten examples void of emotion.  She specifically suggests methods to include emotions in characterization, setting and dialogue to improve writing.  No matter the method, she claims that “ultimately it’s the writer’s own emotions that set the tone of a scene or piece of fiction” (23).  She makes a strong correlation between a writer’s emotions and both the effectiveness and quality of a work of fiction.

            She does warn that some emotions must be handled with care in writing, because the reader does not want to be confronted too strongly with certain types of emotion.  She says that “the stronger the emotion, the more you need to restrain your passion in describing it” (24).  This concept can be applied to academic writing as well, because a writer who feels very strongly about a certain topic can sometimes get carried away with that emotion in their paper, which can make the other content suffer.  She also suggests that if an emotion that you are trying to recreate in your writing does not come from your direct experience, you might “assume a new role and experience a new set of emotions” (24).  This too can be applied to academic writing because oftentimes students do not feel any emotions about their topics, so they might be able to assume an emotion that will help to improve their writing. 

            The study of emotional investment in writing can be directly applied to tutoring students, although in this case it is addressed in terms of fiction writing.  These specific tips could come in handy for a student who comes to the writing center with a piece of fiction, but it also has more direct applications to academic writing.  The basic assertion that emotion on the side of the writer helps writing is very helpful for students who are used to mechanically reproducing what they think they are supposed to for a teacher.  If a tutor feels that a student is not emotionally invested in their work, they can spend some time talking to the student about the chosen topic of the paper to see if they can get them more interested or excited about what they wrote.  They might even go as far to suggest a change of topic that elicits more excitement from the writer.  When reading over a friends’ paper, I find that my enthusiasm for a topic or part of a paper is contagious for the writer, who can then see the fun parts about what they composed.  Getting excited about a thesis or how a point is proved can show a writer how smart their thinking is and helps them be proud of their writing.  Ultimately, I think that having some sort of fun and joy in writing improves both the writer’s enjoyment and the overall content of the paper. 

            Emotional awareness is also important for a tutor to understand when reading a paper that is too emotionally invested.  A student who has written a paper that is a little too close to his/her emotions may lack some basic information and structure of a more academic paper.  A tutor can help that student find a way to include their emotional involvement but also distance themselves for the important parts of the paper.  I helped a friend with just such a paper, and we found that putting his most personal emotional statements and comments in his introduction and conclusion helped him to feel that he was still invested in the paper personally without letting his strong feelings overtake the important content and academic prose.  A tutor can show a student what parts of a paper are hard to read because of either a lack of interest or too much interest, because sometimes it is hard to make these distinctions when one is writing. -- Vicki Moorman , 10/12/02

Mastergeorge, Ann M., "Guided Participation in Sociocultural Learning: Intervention and Apprenticeship." Topics in Language Disorders, Nov2001, Vol. 22 Issue 1, p74, 14p

           Mastergeorge’s point in this article is to change the  thinking about intervention approaches, and to get teachers and parents to include sociocultural activities. Sociocultural activities are things that are imbedded in the culture and/or society like shopping, getting your hair cut or driving. She divides the  framework of  cultural activities in three major areas: apprenticeship and intervention, intervention and qualitative documentation of intervention in cultural activities, and the efficacy of apprenticeship in clinical intervention approaches.  She describes the intervention practices as a way to help development in  a context of society, relating intervention practices to everyday routine activities, and describing intervention practices as apprenticeships are discussed.

         From a Vygostskyian perspective, the best learning and development happens when a child is problem solving with the help of a more experienced adult who can shape the context of the problem.  This idea is picked up in her theory of apprenticeships. These are close relationships where one or two children work closely with a teacher or older student. This relationship or training is also held by parents or older siblings. Mastergeorge encourages teachers and parent to be teaching their children in a “real” context for example, adding up the cost of items while shopping, instead of just adding random numbers. For younger children this is especially important as they have trouble understanding theoretical or abstracts.

       She recommends that all learning is done in the context of the culture that the child is part of, and  that the cultural and social forces at work should be taken into account. People learn best when they can SEE the effect of what they are learning, especially students who are still concrete operational.

        I agree with her points and I do wish that all parents had the desire to help their children learn while taking them on errand or just around the house, doing things like cooking. I wish all teachers had the time or resources to spend time working closely with a few students. She proves that this learning is very good, the problem is she doesn’t set a very good way to start using is. I thought by the need she would have some recommendations to teachers, but beyond asserting that they should teach in a more sociocultural way, she does not. I thought I good idea would be to have mentoring program in the school- older students could work one on one with younger students one or twice a week. The older students would learn a little about how to teach and communicate as well as develop a sense of worth and belonging while the younger students would get that one on one attention that would help their learning.--Matisse Michalski, 10/13/02

Peyton, Joy, and JoAnn Crandall. "Philosophies and Approaches in Adult ESL Literacy Instruction." Eric Digest. 1995. Goucher College. October 9 2002. <http://www.cal.org/ncle/DIGESTS>

        This article is quite helpful in that it provides information regarding the past thirty years of adult ESL education and what methods of five specific theories are widely in use today. What becomes apparent is that teaching ESL has now become centered on participatory student-centered learning that incorporates a student’s wider social reality into the classroom setting. The article proceeds chronologically to exhibit five of the most recent patterns in ESL teaching. The first approach, championed by Paulo Freire, revolves around showing students how language can become a tool to free themselves from their present social condition. Language is only valuable in so far as it can show people how to work towards greater goals within the overall society. The next theory that is examined is the theory that language must be kept whole (not divided into rules or lists) in order to teach a language fully. This theory most commonly has students writing for each other, and thereby creating a discussion based upon their common interests. Such an approach is often involved in family or workplace centered programs. An offshoot of this method is a new trend in ESL education, publishing of ESL students’ work whom have become proficient within English. This method has been proven to be beneficial to readers by giving them role models and for writers, who see value within their creations. The last method of interest is known as "competency based education" and it’s main theory centers upon a checklist of sorts, that rates students based on whether they can perform certain survival skills, and in more advanced studies academic and work-related tasks as well.

        As a relative newcomer to the world of ESL, I found this article to be a great introduction to how ESL teaching has progressed in the past thirty years. It was also good to see that the approach within the ESL classroom is so global and student-centered. Teaching English as a tool to use and promote people socially, both within their workplace and in general, is ideal as both a way to empower and motivate students. It was good to read that this is actually the direction in which the ESL teaching community is moving. Another empowering element within several of these theories is the latitude that students have been given within the classroom, to guide discussions, write for their peers, and to bring their life experience into the class dynamic. This was especially true regarding the student publications, and Freirean approaches. I also think that this can even be seen in the competency-based programs, for the abilities of the students determine the movement of the class curriculum.

        The ideas surrounding such student-centered and participatory learning within ESL can be found throughout the world of compositional theories, especially when they take on the sociological twist that this article had. Alice Brand’s work regarding emotion and writing can be seen within these theories, as students can empathize with others regarding the obstacles that they share, both within the study of English and also as immigrants. Also using Freire’s model, teaching English as a tool for social empowerment most definitely builds emotional strength and an alliance within a group of students learning English as a second language. Teaching English as a second language can also be viewed on a scientific and cognitive level, as Fred Genesee did, and his study came to show that adults do require different methods when being taught a language (as opposed to children, whose neural pathways form more quickly). I believe that Genessee would advocate most of the methods explored within the article because the techniques add more meaning to the words and language being studied, which in turn helps in creating the necessary neural connections to learn the language. Finally, Peter Elbow’s idea of writing for an audience for which one feels comfortable definitely comes through in this piece. By having students write for their peers and in discussing amongst themselves the greater world, the students embody Elbow’s philosophy that the best and most fluent writing comes when one is writing for someone with whom they feel comfortable. So it goes, that when students are shown the tools to empower themselves via language and an exchange they are more likely to succeed within the English speaking community.--Christine Bunting, 10/13/02

Sommers, Nancy. “Between The Drafts.”  Landmark Essays on Writing Process. Ed. Sandra Perl. Hermagoras Press; 1994 (217-224)

             Sommers’ essay examines the different types of languages we use in writing.  Through reflection on her own personal writing, she is able to demonstrate the power that “authority” has over writing and the specific use of language it demands.  Using her childhood German lessons as an example of “teaching language out of the context of life,” Sommers is able to demonstrate the important role that language plays in daily life and personal communication.  While her parents were both German, she learned the language by listening to records, not in discourse with her family.  Though it had not occurred to growing up, she realized that it was another example of the division between academic and personal language.

             The choice of language in writing can change the entire tone of a piece of work.  Sommers speaks in this essay about what happens “between the drafts.”  As a researcher and speaker on the process of revision, she feels that the writer’s ability to change their language- to not be “locked in original statements”- is “how [they] locate themselves within a discourse tradition by developing a persona- a fictionalized self. (220)” The decisions writers make between the first and second drafts are what bring the writer into his/her work.  She noted that this choice is inhibited by the academic authority.

             Using the works of other writers, such as Foucalt and Bartholomae, Sommers commented that the influence of such authors undermine the ability of each individual writer to recognize his/her own personal authority.  She hopes that as writers begin to speak in their own voices, the time between the drafts will be spent changing language to create a more individualized piece of work.  She knows that many of her colleagues see this process as an “either/or proposition.”  Either we, as students, write in an academic language or personal, there can be no combination of the two.  I would, however, challenge, that some of the best academic writings are those that combine theory and practice, the general and the personal. 

             Every writer should read this essay.  I found it by accident while flipping through the book, and what I discovered was the inspiration I had been looking for.  Revision is not just about fixing mistakes and editing a paper for smoother read.  It is about finding a personal voice in your work.  Sommers goes further to state that the struggle between academic and personal authority is the thrill of writing and learning- “between submission and independence…we must discover how to define ourselves (224)”  The time we spend “between the drafts” is a treasure hunt for our personal authority, and to be a good writer, one must find that balance between authorities and truly find the gold.--Aileen D. Heiman, October 12, 2002

            In her article, “Collaborating across Disciplines: ‘It’s a Small World After All’”, Elizabeth Langland, dean of the University of California, discusses the possibilities and reasons for a link between foreign language and English departments, and the necessity for stronger humanities programs in the educational system.

            She begins by stating that the global economy has effectively created a smaller world by creating a “one-size-fits-all capitalism”.  While at the same time, the emergence of small nation-states have narrowed the wholeness the popular children’s song connotes. 

            Langland firmly believes that the twenty-first century will show a reassurance of humanities as an important part of the academic community.  She cites an article written by Niall Ferguson that appeared on December 2^nd in the New York Times Magazine.  Ferguson explains that in his opinion there are four major trends shaping the 21^st century.  They are globalization of terrorism, the coming of a second huge energy crisis, the formalization of American imperialism, and the fragmentation of the multicultural polity.  Langland found this interesting, because with the exception of the energy crisis, the multitude of students trained in the hard sciences will be unable to alleviate these problems.  She also stresses the fact that universities which emphasis local economic growth and workforce development will not have the capacity to address the “paradox of economic integration shadowed by political disintegration”. 

            The article then focuses on the significance of a growing tension between globalism and localism, which she refers to as “glocalism”.  She views this type of tension as showing a need for the knowledge provided by language and literature – individually, collectively, and collaboratively.  In the wake of alarming acts of terrorism, recognizing differences and seeing the local in the global as well as the global in local is extremely important.  Langland regards the study of foreign languages, cultures, and literature as an integral part of the student’s ability to understand the world and their place in it. 

            The author cites the fact that the majority of the population believes that the ability to speak a foreign language is important – 85%.  This is far higher than a 1988 poll in which only 65% of the population thought this.  However, there is a large gap between theory and practice.  Most foreign language students never make it past the first painful year of study, and very few achieve fluency.  Langland believes that foreign language departments have not fully convinced themselves, much less students, that they have the ability to offer knowledge which will assist them in handling some of the most difficult problems we will face during this century.

            She raises many relevant questions as to the importance of foreign language study and its place within the context of humanities departments.  I would like to list some of them, because I found some to be very intriguing. 

n     What does the emergence of the euro as an economic, political, and symbolic reality mean for the way we have organized the study of European languages, literatures, and cultures?

n     What does it mean the English is rapidly becoming the global language?  What are the politics of English as global language?

n     From Thomas Babington Macaullay’s “Minute on Indian Education” – How might the experiences of England as a world empire in the nineteenth century enable us to understand America at the dawn of the twenty-first century?

             Langland supports the idea of a European studies major.  Students would investigate the questions above as well as others relating to the culture of Europe, the growth of a world economy, and America’s place in all of this (which relates to the study of languages and English).  She wants to see collaboration between foreign language and English departments. 

            Langland then refers to a second article the Times Magazine, this one written by Michiko Kakutani, who argues that students on today’s campuses are unwilling to debate and are simply accepting differing views without challenging or questioning them.  Amanda Anderson agrees, feeling that there is a kind of “over-tactfulness”, which is discouraging discussion and disagreement. 

            I realize this article has little, ok nothing, to do with the writing process.  However, I think it brings up the importance of language as a means for communication which is just what writing is.  In many of my responses I have placed emphasis on the idea that writers need to feel attached to their subject in some way.  This article shows the deep connection that language and humanities has with the current world condition, and how its study is significant to everyone.  Langland speaks of placing the study of language within the context of the global economy etc, I think this relates to the article we read regarding language learning.  I believe this because; the previous article discussed the need for language study to emphasize communication and to apply to the student on a personal level.   Langland’s idea of integrating subjects would provide this.

            I was not surprised by the statistics provided regarding people who find competence in a foreign language important as compared to the number who actually achieve fluency.  I personally think learning another language in today’s world is very important, but will most likely back out of my difficult Russian classes.  However, she raises a good point in her questions on English as an international language and the European Union.  I believe that many students see English as being the only “important” language, and simply consider themselves lucky to have been born in America so they don’t have a need to learn a second language. 

            Out of curiosity I checked the requirements for the European Studies major at Goucher.  They include many courses that Langland would approve of, including foreign language competency, history, art, and English.  I had briefly considered choosing this as a major last year.  However, I shied away from it for the very reason Langland describes.  I was not convinced of the importance of such a subject.  Although I recognized that such knowledge would be useful I couldn’t pinpoint what I would do with it.  My stepfather might have put it best when he said he didn’t want me to study “cocktail party b.s”.  I think universities need to stress the importance of such courses of study, and the role they will play in the coming decades.--Ambler Mauger, 10/14/02

Sanacore, Joseph. "Student Diversity and Learning Needs." ERIC Clearinghouse on Reading, English, and Communication, Indiana University, ERIC Digest, ED 412527. 19 May 1997.

        Sanacore analyzes the different learning needs, and methods of meeting these needs, for differently-abled students in one classroom, though I am most interested in his analysis of how the special education teacher can better reach all students. He begins by stating that reaching out to "a diversity of learners requires substantial support," which everyone probably agrees with if the idea is put into his head. Unfortunately, Sanacore notes, it is difficult to acquire all the support ideal for a teaching situation because of budget cuts, state funding, etc. "Clearly, at-risk learners are more likely to be successful when classroom and learning center teachers provide them with congruent goals, resources, strategies, and skills," says Sanacore, citing examples of how a mainstream classroom might discuss the central theme of a book, while the special-education classroom may complete workbook exercises unrelated to the theme. Students get mixed messages about what is most important for them to know.

        Special education teachers also have to serve as team teachers, and Sanacore makes reference to one such case when middle-school science and special education teachers taught jointly and increased the "social and academic growth of themselves and their students." He also cites a description of how that sort of program worked at a high school in New Hampshire. There are also many such situations in public high schools, where special educators sit in a mainstream classroom with the student and offer individualized support to the student but do not teach the class. One of the failings of special education today, though, is that most elementary special ed. teachers have an aide in their classrooms (depending on whether they have emotionally disturbed children, and what the state bylaws say about how many such children they can have alone in a room), but are not integrated into "regular" classrooms. If all special ed. children could be in a regular classroom, there would be no need for special ed. teachers, is the attitude in many states that are now moving toward mainstreaming. In these states, there is a distinct trend to diagnosing students with emotional disorders so they can be contained in a closed classroom and all the other kids are put back into "regular" classrooms, so as to do away with the special education program. Unfortunately, LD and ED problems often coexist in children. The existence of the "regular" classroom is used as a weapon: "If you don't sit down and do your work, I'll send you back to Mrs. Fill-in-the-blank-with-the-name-of-the-kid's-regular-teacher!" Special ed. kids already know that the kids in their homerooms are smarter, and they don't want to have to sit through that.

        Sanacore also discusses the helpfulness of volunteers, paraprofessionals, and aides in the classroom. Obviously, there are the usual benefits, such as reinforcing lessons, acting as role models, and serving as resources during field trips, but they can be most helpful as the "extra set of hands." "Volunteers and aides can make valuable contributions to the classroom context, and their support is vitally needed to accommodate the diversity of learning needs which has increased markedly in recent years," he says. In a special ed. classroom, where kids are burdened with not just a variety of disabilities but also emotional disturbances, the variety of ways in which children learn, and ways in which they need help, is often greater than in a regular classroom, even a mainstreamed regular classroom. I have tutored and volunteered often both in homework clubs as well as actual classrooms, and one of the hardest things is accommodating each child's needs. Most children (at least in the age group with which I am most familiar) need a one-on-one tutor. They need someone to sit right there with them, put a finger under the line of words, help them read the labels on the crayons, and remind them that when there's more on the floor, you go next door and borrow (two-digit subtraction). And at the same time, they don't. Teachers give kids a worksheet that has 20 problems, all exactly the same. They don't need a tutor to sit there and help them do the same thing each time, because they know how to do it. But they want the reinforcement of knowing that an "adult" is there if they mess up. And they also want someone to just sit with them - which goes right back to the emotional support needs; many LD kids don't get it at home, and they find that support at school.

        Other resources may also help students to be successful. Sanacore says, "Disabled learners, in particular, may benefit from adaptive hardware, such as seating devices, switches, electronic communication aids, and computers that scan printed materials and read the text aloud. Although appropriate instructional resources can facilitate learning in heterogeneous classrooms, a problematic economy has caused school administrators to allocate budgets for the basic curricula." Computers have become prominent in almost all schools (Apple would be out of business if it weren't for the el. ed. market), and if a district can't afford them, often someone donates them. In addition to being a novelty to special ed. students, they also take away the strain of paperwork on teachers and act as another scheduled activity, similar to art or music or time in the homeroom.

        So if there are all these resources out there to help special ed. teachers (and students, by extension), then why aren't kids progressing? Most educators are aware of how their students feel, and of how the administration feels about these kids consistently pulling down their statewide assessment scores. (I think it's utterly asinine that they're passing laws to incur more statewide testing while simultaneously mainstreaming everywhere they can, but that's another story.) Are there just more kids who have learning disabilities now, or more kids being diagnosed with them? Are we finding that there really are more disabilities and disturbances than there were fifty years ago, or are we making them up to diagnose each and every problem presented on the psychiatrist's couch? I read in the Carlisle Patriot-News, out of Carlisle, PA, that now they want to create a series of disorders called "relational disorders," that would describe someone's inability to relate to a certain person, or a certain type of person, such as in a dysfunctional marriage. Just wait until they start explaining that people can't go to work because they have relational disorders with their bosses. Are fewer people going into special ed., or are they doing research instead of teaching? If that's true, then what can we do that would attract more people to teach - schools certainly can't offer more money, and it's often a very thankless job, especially in the inner-city. How can teachers help the number of kids who are perpetually getting diagnosed and dropped into their classrooms, when they can't even teach the ones they have now? Will these kids ever be able to mainstream? I know you're not supposed to ask questions you can't answer, but this isn't a paper and I wonder if there are any answers. A logical response to the last question would be NO.--elisabeth fields 10.14.02

Cohen, Andrew D. and Amanda Brooks-Carson. "Research on Direct versus Translated Writing: Students’ Strategies and Their Results." The Modern Language Journal 85 (2001): 169-188.

        In their article, Andrew D. Cohen and Amanda Brooks Carson, after summarizing studies of the past, explain their research, which explores the differences between direct writing in French and translation from English (or Spanish) into French by intermediate learners of the language. Thirty-nine students at the University of Miami participated in the study, twenty-five of whom were native English speakers, 10 of whom were Spanish-English bilinguals, and 4 of whom were native speakers of other languages. These students, in response to writing prompts, wrote one essay directly in French and another in English (or, in the case of eight students, in Spanish), which was then translated into French. No dictionaries were allowed, but, before the direct essay was written, the students discussed the prompt in French with a partner. After the direct writing exercise, the students completed a checklist to show the degree to which they used the French language in planning and writing the short essay. After writing the translated essay, two checklists were given, one about the students’ tactics when writing in their dominant language, and one about the process of translation. After the writing sessions, the students completed an open-ended reaction sheet. A month later, as a follow up, the students were asked to complete another "strategy checklist," this one asking them to rate themselves, on a scale of one to five, on the extent to which they used certain skills.

        After rating the essays and compiling the research, Cohen and Brooks-Carson found that one-third of the students did better on the translated essay, two-thirds on the direct essay, and one student did equally well on both assignments. They also found that even when writing in the "direct" mode, students were thinking partially in English, even those students who were Spanish-English bilinguals. In fact, the Spanish-speaking students reported that they thought more in English than in Spanish. The students who reported that they barely or never thought in English while writing the essay received higher scores. The grammar ratings of the two writing modes were "not significantly different" (181). In addition, students who did not simplify their grammar while writing in their first language tended to score higher on the translated essay.

        I was not surprised that, for the most part, the students scored higher when writing directly in French, as such writing avoids the word-for-word translation of English expressions. I am curious, however, about the strategies of the students who did better on the translated assignment. I was also not surprised that, when writing in a foreign language, students do not tend to think in that language. When doing my Spanish homework last night (cuando hice mi tarea para español anoche, a direct translation that is not direct, grammatically), I paid special attention to how I was completing the assignment. I found that I was thinking of the ideas for my sentences (I had to write six sentences combining vocabulary words) in English and then composing them in Spanish. When I was stuck on a word, however, I returned to English and made use of my Spanish-English dictionary.

        I was surprised that the bilingual students in the study thought in English more often than in Spanish when writing the essays. The researchers hypothesize two possible explanations for this occurrence. Since the students are learning French with English as the explaining language, they may be associating the two languages with one another. In addition, as the students attend an English-speaking university, they may feel the need to be English-dominant, thereby resisting thinking in Spanish. I was wondering, after reading this, whether Ambler thinks more in French or in English at school. Sorry to put you on the spot, Ambler, but do you plan papers in English for English classes? Have you ever taken a language other than French or English? If so, do you conduct mental translations using English or French? I would be interested in looking at more research about bilingual students learning third languages. And, like the authors of this article, I would like to see this same type of research completed focusing on different languages. In addition, I am curious as to when during the course of learning a second or third language a student begins to think in the new language. When does fluency begin?--Johanna Goldberg, October 20, 2002

Emig, Janet.  “Hand, Eye, Brain: Some ‘Basics’ in the Writing Process.” Research on Composing: Points of Departure. Ed. Charles R. Cooper and Lee Odell.  Urbana: NCTE, 1978 

             In her article, Janet Emig highlights various aspects of writing by concentrating in turn on the parts of the body to which they correspond—the hand, the eye, and the brain (hence the title).  Her focus makes the reader think about aspects of the writing process that, in general, occur naturally when one sits down to write, without involving any conscious decisions.

            The hand, for instance, makes writing into a physical act, forcing people to decide which thoughts to record and to go through the process of writing them (60-61).  It also slows down the process, giving the writer time to think about what he or she is writing and “allow(ing) the unexpected to take over” (61).  Emig attributes a similar physicality to the eye’s role in the writing process, and also cites its importance in revision, as without vision, revision is impossible (65-67).  (Case in point: the connection between the words vision and revision didn’t occur to me until I began the previous sentence and looked at what I’d written.)  The brain’s involvement in the writing process is fairly obvious—we have to think in order to write—but Emig is more specific than that about the brain’s function.  The left hemisphere must perform logical thought, and the right hemisphere is for “holistic mentation” (67).  Each part of the brain is necessary to perform its allocated tasks, and when any area has a defect, the person is unable to complete that area’s piece of the thinking puzzle.

            Well, I’m a human with all these parts, so I can serve as a case study for each of their functions.  I’ll start, as Emig does, with the hand.  The role of my hands in my writing has changed significantly over the course of my education.  In elementary school, when I had to handwrite everything, writing was a major occupational-therapy-requiring struggle.  My writing was usually briefer than it should have been because the physical act of writing each letter was an unpleasant experience.  Then computers came into my life.  Typing was a slow process at first, but once I was familiar with the locations of the keys, it was much, much easier than writing by hand.  By now, I practically think with my fingers—if I’m typing one word and another happens to enter my head, my fingers automatically type that word without my consciously telling them to.  Typing comes so naturally that choosing my words is less intimidating, as I know it will be easy to change them.

            Even though, physically, I can do most of my typing without seeing, I learned recently how important vision is to my writing.  An unfortunate incident involving a contact lens and a long fingernail rendered my left eye unusable for three days.  My use of my right eye was limited because, as I learned quickly, the muscles in both eyes are connected, and each eye feels the other’s movement.  (Owwwwwwwwww…painful memory.)  These three days conveniently fell near the end of last semester, as paper deadlines approached.  I discovered during that time that writing papers without vision was not an option; I found myself constantly squinting at the computer screen with my right eye to see what I was writing, a move that my left eye regretted. (Luckily, my eye healed fast enough that I was able to do my work on time.)

            For some, the eyes are more important than they are for others.  I fall into this category, being more of a visual than an auditory learner.  While I’m used to speaking in English and can picture words written out in my head, I need my eyes to help me retrieve the Spanish I haven’t used in classes in nearly a year.  When I hear Spanish spoken, I can only pick out an occasional word, but when I see it written in front of me, the sentences make sense.

            It’s harder for me to analyze the brain’s role in my writing, since I’ve been lucky enough never to have to do without the functions of any part of my brain.  Of course, my brain is connected to my use of my hands, eyes, and everything else; it is my brain, not my eyes, that makes me a visual learner.  I find it odd to talk about the brain’s role in isolation.  The brain’s role is to work with the rest of the body.  I can just assume, from Emig’s examples (68-69) and my prior knowledge, that any problem with the brain’s workings would change the way a person lives in ways that scientists can’t even predict.  As far as its role in the writing process is concerned, the brain is probably more important than the hand or the eye.  Technology such as tape recorders and Braillers can compensate somewhat for deficiency in those areas, but I doubt that anything could replace the control center that is the brain.--Shoshana Flax, November 2, 2002

Peter Smagorinsky and Cindy O’Donnell-Allen.  "Idiocultural Diversity in Small Groups: The Role of the Relational Framework in Collaborative Learning."  Vygotskian Perspectives on Literacy Research.  Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000.

        Smgaorinsky spent time observing and recording group interactions in O’Donnell-Allen’s more interactive high school English class. More specifically he observed two different groups as they worked on a project based in Hamlet, and noted the way the interactions and group dynamics shaped the work the groups did.

        The project was a “body biography” where the groups were to pick a central character from the play and draw a representation on them on an outline of a body, including both physical and symbolic images from the play as well as text. There were very clear guidelines and expectations but the assignment seemed fairly open-ended. I thought it was a very interesting project, and a lot more fun than writing a paper or something about the character and their motivations.

        The two groups looked at were similar in that they did not contain any friends, as all members seemed to have few, if any, friends in the class. But the people in them were very different. Group one contained only girls, and the other contained only one girl, and the four boys, one of whom did not pass the class and one who received the lowest grade in the class. The dynamics were very, very different in the groups. Group one interacted by offering ideas and suggestions with disclaimers and self-effacing comments and were reassured and encouraged by each other. Group two spent much more time talking about things off subject and the conversation was dominated by one of the male students who insulted the other members of the groups, especially the lone girl. In the end, that girl ended up taking the project home to finish it, and did most of the work.

        It was interesting to see group interactions from a very removed point of view. I have not gone group project work since 6^th grade, and I had never been in a group like group two, so it was very interesting to me. It also explored the idea of one of teachers greatest fears about collaboration- the idea that one person will end up doing all the work. The way O’Donnell-Allen ran her classroom, it seems that these projects and group collaboration were common and that she knew how to observe the different groups and their dynamics without intruding. She also had the advantage of a “block schedule”, where so has the class of a longer amount of time ever other day, allowing for the group work to be done during class time.

        The thing that stuck me most from the article was the chart of types of comments made. The fact that group one made 8 off-task remarks and group 2 made 315 was very interesting, and went along with the fact they made only 4 inclusionary or courteous comments whereas group one made 31 of those. Group one spent their time, and their dialogue doing and creating their body biography, where group two did not finish in the allotted time and made one student finish it at home.

        The idea of the disfunctionality of group two when compared to group one, or even my own ideas of group work, would make these kinds of projects unappealing. O’Donnell-Allen is still committed to her collaborative projects though, and works on different ways to have the students create better dynamics themselves.--Matisse Michalski, 11/3/02

Murray, Donald M.  “All Writing Is Autobiography.” Landmark Essays on Writing Process.  Ed. Sondra Perl.  Hermagoras Press: 1994.  Pgs 207-216

“All writing, in many different ways, is autobiographical,”  writes Donald Murray in his essay, “All Writing Is Autobiography,” (208).  As a published writer in genres ranging from textbooks to poetry writing, he claims that each of his work holds “his truth.”  To further explore the thesis, Murray includes excerpts of his own writing in the essay.  In a poem, At 64, Talking Without Words, he writes about distinct feelings, smells, and sights from childhood memories.  Then, he discusses the word “truth.”  He states,

“What is autobiographical in this poem?  I was 64 when I wrote it.  The childhood memories were real once I remembered them by writing.  I realized I was mirrored by daughters when the line arrived on the page.  My other daughter would have been 32 on the day the poem was written.  Haven’t you all had the experience of reaching for the phone and hearing it ring?”

He reveals that parts of his poem are mere facts, like being sixty-four when writing the piece, or things that he observed and experienced but did not realize their “truth” until revising, like reaching for the phone and being surprised by it ringing. 

        After telling the reader that all writing represents the author, Murray goes on to explain how and why.  He mentions his life experiences with war, the death of a child and being raised in a Christian atmosphere.  Since the same themes appear throughout his writing, he safely concludes that people write based on their experiences and interests; that the same passions a writer feels inside his or her heart, beams through the written material.  And because every writer has significant passions, it is only natural to include them in the works—creating a writing style.  Murray even refers to writing as being “therapy” as he admits, “Writing autobiography is my way of making meaning of the life I have led am leading and may lead,” (210).  He believes that including personal experience only relieves the writer of whatever thoughts, emotions, and passions that are built up inside (positive and negative) and/or distinguishes one writer from the next. 

Bringing the article full circle, Murray relates his thesis to student writing by encouraging students to attempt including themselves in academic writing.  He basically reminds the reader that even textbooks are written from someone’s point of view (“their truth”), so there is little harm in adding “truth” to a college essay.  He then offers advice to teachers when he states, “I do not think we should make our students write on many different subjects, but that they write and rewrite in pursuit of those few subjects which obsess them,” (214).  Through allowing students to invent works based around their passions, they create a unique language and style that will produce better papers because the students will actually care about the paper.  This is different from professors forcing students to cover many topics, resulting in borrowed language and thoughtless ideas. 

“All Writing Is Autobiography” truly relates to our class as we struggle to find ways in which students can own their essays.  Many of us admit to quickly losing motivation due to a paper topic and as a result, stretch ideas regurgitated from class discussions and notes into five pages.  Others, like myself, refuse to write anything without including a little bit of themselves.  Although I always find a “passion” to focus on in my writing, I wonder if my classes provide enough space for me to be creative or if I truly take the liberty upon myself.  I highly doubt it’s the latter, because how would I include myself in a biology lab? 

He also uses the metaphor of the writing process being one of his oil paintings.  Whenever Murray is in the process of producing a new work, he writes and rewrites-- each time discovering a new layer.  I found the metaphor as good advice and a great argument for the need of revision.  Unlike the many scholars who have labeled using revision as being a good writer, Murray simply shares his experience.  He shows that as the writer continuously re-exams the work, they will find deeper passions and a numerous amount of ways in which to construct the piece.  Maybe his way of addressing revision (and college essay writing) did not offend me and that is why I am so fond of it, but whatever the case, the essay seemed more inspirational to young writers and may be an easy way for professors to get the desired results from their students!--Sidney Saunders, 11/3/02

Runciman, Lex.  “Fun?”  Landmark Essays on Writing Process.  Ed. Sondra Perl.  California: Herogoras Press, 1994.  199-205. 

         Lex Runciman, in his article “Fun?”, addresses the ways in which writing is viewed by many students and professors in the academic world.  Runciman discovers that most studies concerning writing (Linda Flower’s and John Hayes’s, to name a few) have concentrated on “writing as a process and by that we generally mean a series of problems to be solved”(201).  “Fun?” denies that “The notion of writing …[is] a problem-solving process”(202), and insists that an essay is not always “the starting point for a wide variety of observations”(202).

         Runciman points out that we generally equate pleasure writing with creative writing.  He writes: “When we do acknowledge pleasure or satisfaction arising from the writing process, we tend to assign it to literary writers whom many of us still view as, by definition, loftier that we are”(201).  It is true that there are testimonies by Updike, James Michener, and Anne Sexton in which the writers profess their love of the writing process (201), and most of us are aware that “at least some writers (the famously literary, at least) do find writing satisfying, even fun”(201).  However, Runciman and Shulamit (who also annotated this essay) insist that technical writing can be enjoyable as well.

         The reason that we don’t usually associate pleasure with technical writing is, Runciman writes, “that [pleasure is] squishy, it’s difficult to predict, and talking about it seems vaguely unprofessional.  Because the notion of enjoyment is not readily recognizable as scientific we concentrate on other writing issues: “the literacy wars…large class sizes…the good grammar war”(202).  In the midst of all these wars we forget the pleasure of “tackling” (204) a large assignment, discovering accurate phrasing, and, most of all, the fulfillment inherent in creation.

         I have always found it difficult to enjoy technical writing.  I enjoy research and discussions in regard to my topic, but I dislike being forced to write essays, and am frequently frustrated by the fact that many professors view “creativity as a conscious, goal-directed activity in which problem definition plays a crucial role”(202).  Runciman’s claim that the academic writing process doesn’t necessarily have to be a process of drudgery was heartening, and led me to believe that I will at some point be able to savor the range of large and small rewards which attend to [my own] writing and thinking”(205).--Sarah Raz, November 4, 2002

Longo, Bernadette.  “An Approach for Applying Cultural Study Theory to Technical Writing Research.” Technical Communication Quarterly. Winter98, Vol. 7 Issue 1, p53, 21p

            The relationship between writing and culture is more complex than simply stating that a culture produces writing pertinent to that specific group of people.  To truly understand the system structure underlying the writing process, we must study the system underlying culture.  In this essay, Longo examines the types of study needed to apply cultural studies theory to the practice of technical writing.  The patterns she lays out demonstrate the unique partnership between writing and culture.

            The power and knowledge systems within a culture lay the foundation and ground rules for the types of writing practice allowed within that society.  A clear example of this is that, “Once every text had to take account of the theologians and the authorities, so today every text is written against a back-drop of science and the authority of truth with a small t…(2)” Understanding that technical writing practices will change as the authority within a culture changes can help us as writers to understand the changes in the writing process.  Longo points out that technical writing is the main mechanism used in scientific study and therefore the writing controls the institutions. 

The symbiotic relationship between writing and culture is apparent in the dissemination of information.  “Institutions often enable things to function, inaugurate new modes of knowledge, initiate productive associations, offer assistance and support, provide useful information, create helpful social ties, simplify large-scale problems, protect the vulnerable, and enrich the community. (3)” The types of writing practices used by these institutions are a reflection of “cultural agents” within society.  In many cases writing is simply a regurgitation of information, while in others it is an analysis of that information.  The notion of academic discourse that we have focused on throughout the semester is a demonstration of how the rules of a culture determine the appropriate method of writing.  Longo emphasizes that the establishment of systems of power also play a role in the practice of technical writing.  We are then back to the thought of the place that authority has in writing.

I found this article important to the understanding of the writing process not just because of its demonstration of the relationship between writing and culture, but what we can infer about the development of writing over time.  If writing and culture are intertwined to such a degree, then every time we have a cultural shift, the system of writing should follow suit.  I am then left with questions regarding the process that a culture goes through to establish or shift to a new form of writing?  We know that an “authority” of some sort determines the rules or standards for the technical writing process, but how is that authority established?  It seems in many ways that the technical writing process is as arbitrary a development as any other power structure.

        Writing is used, according to Longo, as a method of “knowledge legitimation” for a culture.  If we cannot have a record of what the culture’s core knowledge is, then there is no way to measure standards of knowledge.  The need for a central literacy in culture, a language and method of communication that “everyone” can follow and adhere to, is most likely the main reason behind the connection between culture and language.  It is therefore difficult to criticize the authority in the writing community without criticizing the power system that exists throughout all culture.--Aileen Heiman, 11/4/02

Samantha Sansevere, "On the Use of 'I' in Academic Writing."  Leonard Podis and JoAnne Podis, eds.  Working With Student Writers: Essays on Tutoring and Teaching.  N.Y.: Peter Lang, 1999.

            In her article, Samantha Sansevere, discusses the use of the personal pronoun “I” in scholarly writing.  She is greatly opposed to leaving personal voice out of academic writing.  She feels that by employing the use of the personal voice, writing becomes more “welcoming” and that not developing a writing identity “will adversely affect the writer’s growth as an individual, a student, and a writer” (252).

            Sansevere actually believes that objectivity in writing is a myth.  She uses the general definition that objective writing contains no slants or motives.  However, she points out that experience in itself and interpretation is subjective; hence, how can anything ever be truly objective?  Each person will re-tell a story in a different way, and she asks why pretend that it is any other way.  Since all writing is a type of expression why hide the individual behind the words?

            Sansevere is an advocate of cultivating a strong personal voice.  She feels that in every piece of writing there is a clear, unique, identifiable character.  Using herself as an example, Sansevere discusses the fact that as a philosophy major, philosophical discourse has become part of her, and appears in many of her papers.  She expands by saying that when friends read one of works they respond with, “I can see you saying this.”  No two people can write in exactly the same way. 

            She feels that voice and personality are inseparable, I really liked the following illustrative example, “A voice is the reason we can distinguish between one poem about lust and 300 other poems about lust.  Not any one of these hypothetical poems will sound the same” (255).  Sansevere explains that if you removed personality from everyday life, things would become quite boring; voice and writing are analogous to this.  She mentions that text books are one of the few pieces of literature that contain little or no voice.  They are simply words devoid of emotion, and that is rather dull.

            The article goes on to state that students must be given the freedom to explore their personal voice through writing.  She understands that voice is something that requires development, and without the option of including it in texts, it will remain silenced and immature.  When people write in the first person they automatically are given a sense of accomplishment.  They are the ones arguing, defending, and giving opinions; not some bizarre nonexistent third person entity. 

            She also offers the more practical side of using first person while writing.  This is conciseness.  The sentence “It seems to be that case that” is much wordier than “I have found that”.  This style of writing also provides a direct readership connection.  A reader can much more easily relate to a single person than to a sterile word grouping.

            I also found a connection to Bruffee’s article on the relationship between conversation and writing.  Sansevere points out that “I” is used all the time when speaking, and that without it speech would sound ridiculous.  Thus, why conform to an entirely new set of standards when writing?

            I agreed with what most of Sansevere had to say.  I have always found it ridiculous to insert “one” or “the reader” when it was actually myself the whole time.  Honestly, it sounds like a failed attempt at pretension, and to me, seems silly.  I too believe that personal voice is extremely important in writing, without it, we all give the impression of being computerized.   Or as she put it, sounding like text books, which is definitely not what I go for in my writing.

            I completely related to her statement of being able to “hear someone” through their writing.  The following is stretching her idea a bit, but I thought it was relevant.  This past weekend a friend of mine from Russia sent me a piece of poetry he had written.  At first glance, it would seem that much of it is slightly awkward.  However, when I reread it thinking about his speech patterns, inflections, and accent the entire piece made perfect sense and was actually written quite well.  As previously stated, this is a bit far to the left on what she was speaking about, however I feel it clearly demonstrates the idea of personal voice through writing. 

            I completely agree with her thoughts on empowering the writer through using “I” and developing a strong voice.  By directly connecting the author with the text it gives them a reason to write well.  Suddenly the text is personal and a direct reflection of whom you are.  I have said many times during these responses that I feel emotion and writing are strongly related, and by using the personal pronoun it gives the writer a motive to become emotionally attached. 

            I feel that professors and teachers of writing should encourage the development of personal voice in academic writing.  For as our voice becomes stronger so does our writing.--Alice Murphy, 11/3/02

Swerdlow, Joel L.  “The Power of Writing”.  National Geographic.  196 no2.  p. 110-33  Ag 1999.

         Swerdlow’s fascinating article traces the power of writing by giving examples from history and also by slowly revealing the amazing story of Wei Jingsheng of China, who was arrested in 1979 for “writing essays arguing for democracy” (1).  The results of Wei’s story are given piece by piece nestled in among analysis of why writing has power and how writing was developed, and also how it shapes culture.  In prison, Wei was forbidden to write.  After months of requesting paper and pen, a pen was smuggled to him by guard or a prisoner.  Wei hid the pen and wrote let­ters on toilet paper to his family.  After two years in solitary confinement, Wei’s guards realized they couldn’t stop him from writing, and authorized him to write one letter a month to his family.  He also wrote to the Chinese government telling them that they threatened their own goal of national cohesion by suppressing freedom (3).  Wei was released in 1993 when China was com­peting to host the 2000 Olympic games.  China was not chosen, and Wei was re-arrested and pre­vented from writing again.  A brave woman, Tong Yi, transcribed Wei’s letters onto computer disks, although for doing this she was sentenced to two and a half years in a labor camp where she was sometimes beaten.  Upon leaving the labor camp, she was allowed to leave China.  In 1997 a book of Wei’s letters, The Courage to Stand Alone, is published in the USA.  The end of Wei’s story is hopeful.  In 1997 Wei is released due to international pressure, and comes to the USA to be employed by Columbia University in the Center for the Study of Human Rights.  “Writing,” Wei says, “kept me alive.  I sometimes thought about a letter for a week before writing anything.  It’s something that you must do even if you do not have the leisure of being in prison.  To write, you must work methodically, forming your thoughts and prompting other people to think as they read.  Writing requires work at both ends.  That’s what makes it special” (5).    Swerdlow explores the power of writing through other examples such as the history of alphabets from Egyptians, Canaanites, Greeks, Romans, and Chinese.  He looks at how alphabets can be a thing of national identity.  In Azerbaijan, a letter resembling an upside down e is reminiscent of the country’s his­tory.  Stalin forced Azerbaijan to adopt the Cyrillic script in order to break ties between Turkey and Azerbaijan in the 1930’s.  Swerdlow questions the uses of writing.  He takes us to the Haida Nation, on the Queen Charlotte Islands, off the coast of British Columbia, which uses no written language.  “A story includes the telling and the listening” Guujaaw says; he is a leader of the Haida Nation.  But the oral traditions of the Haida Nation are dying out, and so Haida children preserve the stories they know by writing them down as part of their schooling.  The power of writing, as expressed in Swerdlow’s article, seems to be a power inherent in people to cause change and affect others.  We must remember that writing requires work at both ends, and that a story includes the telling and the listening.

         For tutors, the power of writing can be communicated to students and peers by remembering that what is written is also read.  Someone will listen to what is written, and what is written has the power to create change in readers’ thinking and feeling.  Wei said that writing kept him alive, and although we are (hopefully) not in prison, we can allow our writing to make us live, or feel more alive.  We can delve deep into our own ideas and write them out.  We form our thoughts and prompt others to think (5).  Swerdlow says “From its beginning as recordkeeper to its transforma­tion into one of humanity’s most potent forms of artistic and political expression, writing reveals the power of innovation” (1).  Last class we discussed whether a new idea is possible.  I don’t know the answer to that, but a new change is possible in one who has not yet changed.  Writing has a long history, and only something that has a power to it can be sustained in a culture and use­ful to a culture for so long.--C. Talley English, 11/3/02

Fuchs, Donald, and Lynn S. “Researchers and Teachers Working Together to Adapt Instruction for Diverse Learners.” Learning Disabilities Research & Practice - Volume 13, Number 13, 1998, p. 126-137.

        In the interest of time (because this is already so late) and also for relevancy purposes (because I think I know what I’m doing for the collaborative project), I think this AB will probably gloss over the less important stuff and focus more on the things that actually might impact our research. The Fuchs team focuses on several aspects of the joining of research and practice, especially questioning, what causes the gap between research and practice? Fuchs and Fuchs say that “researchers have only themselves to blame for the gap between research and practice,” and that the hierarchy between researchers and teachers is what puts teachers at the disadvantage. This viewpoint is reflective of the general consensus about the research/teaching discrepancy ever since the new paradigm shifts in many areas. For example, until the 1980’s, research was considered only as a lower alternative for those who couldn’t get a university appointment in math, science, or computer science.

        Teaching, say Fuchs and Fuchs, is taking a different turn based on research, and one of the new kinds of teaching is practical knowledge. It is informal, personal, situated, and often idiosyncratic; it is based on the teachers’ own experiences; it is taught in a non-linear or visual manner; and it is frequently taught through stories. Implicit is the notion of teachers-as-inquirers: active, self-directed, constructing their own understandings of who they are and what they do. This new theory is beneficial on two levels: it recognizes that students learn in different ways and teachers should try to reach many of those different ways (which of course makes sense, but is terribly hard to put into practice); and also that some students (particularly special ed. or learning disabled students) might need to be taught in a different way, in context of the world. Otherwise what they are learning is going to be just like what they’re learning in every other boring class and they still won’t understand it. This “practical” knowledge and its active strategies of teaching are one of the best ways to reach all kinds of learners.

        The basis of the Fuchs’ study is to prove that “educational researchers can conduct quality research in conjunction with teachers, and that they can produce innovations that teachers, students, and parents value.” They wanted to increase teachers’ active involvement in class instruction, and developed a theory/activity known as the PALS-M and CBM to encourage teachers to build their own games and activities. Basically that sounds like a good idea and an effective one. Most people I’ve talked to are accepting of the idea that they need to change or add classroom strategies, that it is better to have kids out of their seats working or talking or interacting or doing lab reports. The consistent problem is a question of how to accomplish these goals. How do we incorporate these things in a classroom that is already on a schedule? How do we prove that they’re worth the time, money, investment, equipment? The article addresses these concerns as well, emphasizing the need for additional formal evaluation and reports to those in charge of the curriculum.

        The debate about new strategies of learning comes down to not so much a discrepancy between research and practice (researchers and teachers seem to agree that active learning strategies are good) but more a way of translating that research into practice. The problem is that it creates a catch-22. If teachers are never given the opportunity to implement new theories of learning, then research slowly dies out when it is untested.--elisabeth fields 11.11.02