Group A: 10/7 Response

Another week, another blog entry, and I’m beginning to get overwhelmed, not with our class, but with how much instructional methodology, pedagogy, and history I’m unfamiliar with. Yet, one idea I’m keeping in mind, and I forget which article said this or perhaps I’m paraphrasing something one of us or Dr. Takayoshi said in class, is that teaching writing parallels the act of writing: both involve some sort of pre-game plan, the act itself, and constant revision and reflexive fine-tuning. What I think we haven’t stressed enough in class, and which our discussions so far have not permitted, is that it is ok not to know, that we don’t have to take unmovable stances on any of these pedagogies (recitation vs. dialogue, anyone?), we don’t have to have all the answers right now (pressures of our upcoming classroom assignments, and our pride, not withstanding). Sure, we can have opinions (as we all do), and we can believe in what to do and say with students (as we all do), but even if we have been tutors or TAs or have taught previously in classrooms (all viable experiences), none of us has taught for a sufficient amount of time to hold authorial sway over the entire classroom. It’s all right not to know, folks, because realistically speaking, our GA classroom fumblings won’t be the direst experience in any of our students’ lives (although who knows, it just might be ours).
Ok, down to business. I began reading Mem Fox’s “Notes from the Battlefield” with a raised eyebrow. I’m glad Dr. Takayoshi told us this was directed at elementary writing instruction because I started to suspect as much, especially when I read the ‘Sweet Samantha, Unrefined’ section and thought, ‘Did her college students laugh her out of the classroom?’ Fox has some good, go-get’em, rah-rah, feel-good slogans: ache with caring, I write because it matters, I have a voice too, pay me for better prose (not quite that one, I know). This article felt to me like some of my fiction workshops where the talk bounces back and forth without end about what is writing and what makes us feel good about it and where does it all come from anyway? Enough, I want to say, let’s just do it already and then discuss how we can do it better. I liked Fox’s enthusiasm, I liked how easy her article was to read, I liked when it was over. (Best line: ‘At last, the conclusion’) That sounds harsh, but given the amount we all have to read, I felt this article added nothing instructionally to our already full plate.
On the other hand, I appreciated the more serious implications of Perl’s study, and Dr. Takayoshi’s explanation of the history behind her article. Perl’s work, taken in combination with Tobin’s, represents the divide in many aspects of the 1950s-1970s and beyond. The hardline you-learn-what-I-teach-you-or-else-you-fail mindset many teachers had during this time period (the responsibility of education resting wholly in the students’ hands), one my parents roll their eyes at and say made many of their generation turn against authority, more specifically within the educational system, and was more detrimental to their development than helpful. The other side of that divide is the current mode of thinking (I hope it’s prevalent), one in which the teacher’s job is not just to instruct, but to modify and correct their approach to better their students’ learning. In that develops the coherency discussed in last week’s articles, the respect and responsibility equal on each side of both teacher and student to work with one another to find what is best for the classroom. Admittedly, not every student or teacher will do this. I’m not that naïve, just hopeful, expecting everyone to set the bar as high for themselves as I believe they do for me (again, not everyone will do this, I know).
The major problem I had with Perl was the reduction of such a complex, abstract process such as writing to a mathematical, scientific study. I felt that we can tally the ticks, thoughts, and hiccups in anyone’s writing process, come up with a fact sheet of numbers, and still not have a definite sense of them as a writer. Tony speaking aloud does not accurately reflect his true thought processes. He has to first think them, then speak them, and in between those two actions a lot of crucial information, sometimes even immeasurable information since a majority may be unconscious, may be lost. If all my writing thoughts were spoken into a tape recorder, I’d sound like Tony (not to mention a bit ADD since I listen to music while I write, sometimes sing a bit, right now to Bob Dylan), especially when I write academic composition.
Tobin’s article was more my style, as not only did it present a pedagogy I’m more inclined to follow, but allowed the sort of self-realization, and more importantly self-forgiveness, that shows the true depth of critical thinking. Again, like Tobin states near the end of his piece, every pedagogy is not going to work all the time, not every one is right, and not every teacher is going to follow the same instructional trends in exactly the same way. What I liked most about this article was how student based it was, even though a lot of it analyzed and discussed instruction. We are there for the students first and foremost, not for us to prove how well our ideas and inclinations can instruct.
The “Net Generation” article was interesting until it turned into the same old story: the older generation confused, frustrated, and taking out their sense of displacement on youth. Yes, our generation expects immediate results, yes we’re used to constant media coverage, video, sounds, access, but NONE of that is our fault. We were exposed to that as children, we grew up with it, now it’s part of our lives. We were brought up that way, not putting pressures on ourselves, but having them envelop us since childhood (tough job markets, high divorce rates, declining belief in not only a higher power but in social contracts among our neighbors). Deal with it or go out and change the world. Which is the harder task? Professors, instructors, teachers, they still have the power. They are the ones who shape our education because for at least twelve or more years of our lives, we are in their hands. They’ll always have the power and frankly, we want it that way. We let them have it. We need someone to tell us what to know because we lack the real-world, academic knowledge they have. Should more videos or films be incorporated into classrooms structures? Yes, but video games? That’s where I draw the line. Oh, and in what college, or universe for that matter, are group projects popular? I haven’t spoken to a single person my whole life who wants to be in a group project (and we all know why). We’re the Millennials. We want to do it ourselves and get it done, because we want to see results immediately without unnecessary clutter or background noise.
Another thing, and maybe Kent is just an anomaly, but in lots of these articles college students are painted as smart-mouthed, materialistic, selfish assholes. Where are these assholes? We don’t have them in our class. I haven’t talked to many both here at Kent or at Toledo (frat boys/sorority girls aside) (sorry if you apply to any of these). I think some of these articles purposefully neglect the students who come to class, do their work because they not only want but have to, and go home to wherever that may be to live their lives as they please to make a point about the current state of our generation, and maybe to gain a little sympathy for how difficult instruction truly is.