Group A: 9/23 response

I found this week’s articles akin to my teaching philosophy as I have developed it since beginning as a writing tutor last fall (and even further back as one in high school and early college in various subjects other than composition), and perhaps two of the key articles of our course. Although I have minor quibbles with certain aspects of these pieces, on the whole this week’s readings have most affected me out of all we have covered so far. (I am, by the way, finding it hard, yet am relieved, that I have to fit all of our readings for the week into a thousand words) It’s articles like these that make me breathe a sigh of relief that others share the same concerns and have developed answers that make sense with ideas that hinge on the cruxes of students’ attitudes towards our jobs and what we’re trying to do, not to mention what is required of them in our classes and society.
I’ll start with my problems with Hartwell’s article. At first glance, I grew tired of his name dropping, especially the condescending attitude he took towards some of his contemporaries. ‘Oh, so that’s the way it is?’ Thank God he had interesting things to say and what worked jived with my views, because I was seriously debating closing the book on this guy based on his overbearing, pompous intensity. Unfortunately, and this is no big shock for any of us, writing instruction and literacy are not atop the list of the world’s or our nation’s problems. Tone it down Hartwell. Take a pill.
That said, the rest of his article, now that we’ve discussed it in class, makes complete sense to me. Although I wouldn’t call his ‘dumb’ views of literacy one-hundred percent dumb (after all, as teachers we do have the job of giving our students some sort of knowledge we possess in which they do not, don’t we?), they are the stumbling blocks I’ve observed in classrooms throughout my schooling. As Hartwell states, everything comes down to our students’, and for that matter, our society’s attitudes towards literacy. I think we can achieve a little bit of that by seriously considering his Types of Interactions, whether they be controlling or empowering.
Now, we’re not going to strut into class and wink and say, ‘What’s up, guys?’, but we can lead our students to believe in themselves and us by setting everyone on the same playing field, by letting them realize we’re in this together, assessments and final grades aside. How do we do that? Here’s where the connection to Shuy’s piece rears its head. By knowing that the tip of the iceberg is there and will be used, we can focus instead on what’s under the surface of language and writing. Here’s a series of questions I pose: Why isn’t what’s under the surface of the iceberg the groundwork for instruction in our schools? Would that advance our students, making them more ready for college? Only in college classes from my junior year to the present have I felt that my instructors and I were equals in terms of respect, inquisition, and the willingness to hope for one another’s continued success. Why did it take me that long to feel that, or to put it another way, to see that change in instruction? Do students have to earn that? Are they too immature in elementary and high school to handle that kind of give-and-take responsibility? Personally, I don’t think so. Perhaps if our educational system treated students as equals, some of our collegiate problems would be solved. But I’m not Hartwell, nor do I have the breadth of theoretical knowledge and gumption of Shuy. I can’t solve these problems. What I propose, however, is that as a group with the youth and energy to call for a change, maybe even something as small as a tweak, we can.
Now on to Collision Course. I’m sorry, but I found Chapter 2 excruciatingly boring and tedious. I didn’t care about his methods (although, yes, I know they reveal the intricacies of his subject, their testing, and subsequent results), I wanted to know his results. I wanted to know what he had to say and what he found and how, if at all, can it relate to our forthcoming teaching experience. Chapter 5 was much more relative. I knew the group sex-education activity would be a failure. I put myself in my former classrooms, especially freshman year, and knew as a group mostly fresh out of high school, we couldn’t handle that. Now, yes. Two years ago, yes. Not freshmen though, not ever, especially given the subject matter there will more silence at that age than active, positive participation.
What I found most helpful is the students’ attitudes towards analytical composition and Sherry’s methodology. I agree that students should first be immersed in topics of deep personal interest. If the subject doesn’t present itself as such, we at least have to provide as much information and viewpoints as we can so that there’s a greater chance that something will get its hooks into our students. My strategy would be to always question students’ motives, not in an effort to prove them wrong, but in one to let them expunge their ideas and see them in an environment outside their own minds. That’s a learned skill these days. I didn’t pick it up until junior year and, like our articles say, it’s something that once there can never be taken away.
Daniell’s article will only be mentioned a little bit here. I thought it covered Hartwell’s ground, albeit in a slightly different manner. What I appreciated most about Daniell, was her constant positive communal attitude. She falls in line with those who believe in little narratives (I use ‘believe’ because nothing so far in what we’ve read has proved that writing theory and instruction is set in stone or has been ultimately proved as what works), in that there are many truths about literacy, not one overarching one encompassing all others. I think this reflects subtly on both our jobs as teachers and to the recipients of our instruction. No matter on what side of the student/teacher line we stand, we must realize first and foremost that our classrooms are comprised of individuals. What may work for some will not work for others. Our style will not be that of our peers. In that, there are little truths in each of us. We’ll never touch that big truth. It is in this that we must take our satisfaction.