Reading Response for 9-9-09

I found this week’s reading assignments interesting for they discuss areas of the classroom that form a relative groundwork for what we do as teachers. The first few chapters of Zebroski’s book were the most engaging, as I look forward to teaching college writing, even more so creative writing, in the university’s classrooms. His discussion of writing theory, a facet I usually regard with displeasure, was informative because he provided his readers with samples of syllabi and classroom activities that proved his points while providing open-ended questions for later thought. Zebroski is right on the money when he says that theory is practice. Truly, one cannot exist without the other. Like any textual theory, it means nothing and cannot be applied without actual writing on which to base assumptions and analysis. Our best examples of theory, its application, and its on-going evolutionary process, is the writing of our students. Their work is the evidence on which our teaching rests.
I especially enjoyed the journal responses. I felt that their intent might be a bit too in depth or abstract for freshmen to understand, although could be applied later in the course to shine a light on what students have trouble grasping. My first journal assignment would be for my students to write about how and what they were taught about writing in school, and then we could discuss their own personal writing theories later on as they pertain to our class. After reading over Zebroski’s activity examples and thinking about their application, I’m pretty sure I could modify and use these examples to coax my own teaching process along as I see fit. Some of them, however again might be a bit too in depth. Ethnographic writing, while as great tool, is a very difficult writing style if you have not done it before. I had to do so in my first college writing class and had trouble with it from the start. Yet, as I am not in his class and therefore do not know the context in which he’s placing these lessons or can see his teaching style, I have no idea how he handles such pupil difficulty person by person.
In dealing with his actual thesis, I agree with Zebroski when he says that theory does not discipline writing, but instead writing controls theoretical studies as well as composition. I’ve taken many writing classes in which I was made to believe that my writing had to fit certain guidelines within a specific theory, or else it may fail altogether. I saw even more of this instruction, and its effects on students, while working at the Writing Commons.
Coming out of high school, freshmen really are the wide-eyed, clueless (not in a bad way) deer-in-the-headlights most of us portray them to be, at least academically. Most high schools do not provide them with the critical adaptation skills needed to merge into collegiate academia. In the classroom, they do not need to have teachers and instructors pigeonholing them into any theories, especially with something as delicate and personal as writing. While tutoring, I observed how students were graded on the correctness of their writing, as if simply putting coherent sentences together that were grammatically and structurally correct made them good writers. Those that could not, even though I knew their work’s intent and message, viewed themselves as some do towards others who use words like ‘ain’t’. They acted as if they were failures, true inbreeds, with no rational concept of the English language or hope of ever discovering all its ins and outs without some kind of excruciating pain. Staring at their papers with extreme terror, the page, their text, controlled them, not the other way around as it should be. They knew what they wanted to say, but felt they lacked the tools to express it because their style did not fit the requirements taught to them in class. Simply, they had not yet been given the tools in which to control their words, nor the teaching that enables them to believe that they can.
I will encourage my students to look at their writing, to assess what and how they communicate, and see if they fit into any theory we may cover in class. Perhaps they can adopt certain parts of theories for themselves and their writing, perhaps not. They do not have to. The most important lesson they need to learn, and teachers need to stress, is that writing is not a series of parts and pieces that need to be academically correct to be understood. Instead, students need to learn the importance of their ability to communicate and the doors with which that unique ability can open.
Michael Williamson’s article sparked my interest from the outset. I find grammar to be one of the most boring subjects on the planet, let alone one to have to sit through in the classroom when it’s a nice day outside (for me, even a rainy, snowy day). I agree with Williamson when he says that teaching grammar, or having correct grammar, does not necessarily translate to great writing. Again, I’ll draw on my experience at the Writing Commons. I’ve seen all kinds of papers from every kind of student, undergrad to graduate to transfer to ESL. One student came who had a phenomenally written paper. Her sentences were correct, snazzy; she manipulated the language like a pro. The only problem was her paper had nothing to say. Yet, as most students were required to come to the WC, this student stated that her professor only made it optional for her because of the quality of her writing. Conversely, I tutored another student whose grammar was atrocious, an amalgamation of clauses, run-ons, and fragments. His paper, though poorly grade by his professor, contained an insight and passion for his subject that I had not expected when he came to our offices. He had more to say in a single sentence than the girl with great grammar had to say in her whole paper.
Yet, I feel that Williamson ignores an important aspect of his own schooling experience and writing. While we all hated grammar instruction, especially its constant repetition and correction, a part of that made us good writers. I can complain all I want about it, but the bottom line is without that structure I might not understand the putting together the English language puzzle to accurately communicate with others through my writing. Williamson is taking a hard line here. He’s right in one aspect, but also ignoring a crucial piece of evidence against him: himself. I know that grammar instruction, perhaps even writing in general, will never be fully understood. As Zebroski said, it is an entity that interacts with context, the individual, and society. I just felt that Williamson’s article did not come to the sort of definite conclusion, one with ample research and facts to back it up based on his views that I expected at his article’s outset. I had the same problem with Zebroski, as I wanted him to discuss some theories and examples that were opposite of his, to let the reader decide what is best by allowing them to consider both sides. Either way, problems or not, both of these articles provided me with critical thought about what I will teach in my classroom and how.