I Love Technology

Since this is a post on technology, I couldn't resist . . .



It's amazing how quickly technology changes. Some of our assigned readings, written no more than ten years ago, feel quaint and outdated with their speculation that someday all students may have access to a computer in their dorm rooms or at home and their differentiation between the Internet and the World Wide Web. Yet issues and questions regarding technology in the classroom are still of primary importance.

I found Moran's discussion about how format influences writing (as in print vs. email) to be very interesting. I began to think about our weekly assignment to respond to our readings by writing a blog post and how my responses might differ if I did them in a different format. Writing in an electronic forum allows us to access and share our thoughts with each other in a way that probably would not be feasible were we each to write in a journal. I feel that I would be more likely to respond to my classmates' thoughts, were we to send emails or post on an Angel discussion thread. For some reason traveling to each individual blog, opening a new window or tab (although all that is really required is a click of a button) seems tedious, while clicking through a list of emails all gathered into one place has a greater feel of efficiency. Yet if I were to respond to the readings by email, my responses might be shorter and less thought out, owing to the informal and perhaps more temporary nature of email. Knowing that what I write will be displayed as its own post adds an aura of formality and seriousness.

I also really enjoyed Faigley's discussion of visual literacy and the multimedia essay. While my own academic work still consists mainly of the standard 15-20 page, 1.5" margins, stapled paper,in my personal life I really enjoy blogging because it gives me the opportunity to use a variety of media to express myself. Adding pictures and videos, linking to outside sources or previous posts, and even setting up a personal design for my blog gives me a much wider means of expression than writing in a traditional journal would.

Nevertheless, although I enjoy the individual expression that comes from blogging, and I feel that I can really get to know someone through reading and responding to their blog, I feel uneasy about the idea of a purely digital classroom. Anson expressed some of my fears when he comments, "there is no doubt that the physical isolation of each individual form the others creates an entirely different order to interaction" (VV 806). There is something about going to a distinct space, hearing someone's voice and seeing their facial expressions, which allows me to make associations which help in the retention of knowledge.

My dad was really thrown when his business switched to a computerized cash register and inventory, and I feel that I may be starting to identify. I enjoy the technology to which I have access, yet now that I am an adult and have established habits and patterns, I may start to view new technology as a disruption rather than an advance. This supports Faigley's idea that children are best equipped to handle new technology because they have no loyalty to old institutions and ways of doing things (LZB 175).

As someone who would like to eventually teach in a higher education classroom, Anson's vision of a streamlined educational system where students from across the world are taught by expert professors, is quite scary. It threatens to practically eliminate faculty, preserving a few key experts while degrading all others to the roles of graders and facilitators.

While I am not against the use of technology in the classroom, I do become annoyed with teachers and professors who use the latest programs or media solely because it is new technology or because it is their own pet project. Technology should always be used with a purpose, when it will enhance or augment students' learning. I like what Anson says: "We need to guide it, resisting its economic allure in cases where it weakens the principles of our teaching. . . .The processes of technology . . .will not threaten us as long as we, as educators, make decisions about the worth of each innovation, about ways to put it to good use, or about reasons why it should be rejected out of hand" (VV 813-814).

Basic Writing and Revision

I am intrigued by Alice Horning's statement--in Deborah Mutnik's essay--that basic writers develop writing skills the same way that second language skills are acquired (GT 187). Bartholome agrees, arguing that basic writers are learning the new language of academic discourse. He speaks of an "interlanguage," which is created when students attempt to use the vocabulary, skills, and/or conventions of academic discourse but do so in an underdeveloped or incorrect way.

Many of the basic writing theorists discussed in Mutnik's essay agree that teachers must look for patterns in their students' errors in order to understand the logic of the writers. I remember learning this principle in a linguistics class and as an ESL teacher; I learned that a student's incorrect application of an -ed ending onto an irregular verb shows that he or she understands that the -ed ending is regularly used to denote past tense. I also believe that, when possible, a basic understanding of students' native language(s) can help a teacher ascertain why students make certain errors.

I also found the dialogue about moving between discourse communities to be very interesting. While Bartolomae speaks of becoming an "insider" of the academic discourse community, which implies the existence of outsiders (192), Lu espouses a more critical view: "She defines the educator's role in terms of enabling students to make conscious, possibly painful choices in this process of inevitable change, rather than initiating them into the dominant culture or falsely leading them to believe that their cultural identity can remain intact when they enter the world of academic discourse" (193). Of all the views put forth in this essay about discourse communities, Lu's is the one I think best, but wow, what a job for teachers!

Moving to Sommers' discussion of revision . . .I would like to think that my revision practices fall into the same category as those of experienced writers. Yet, even after years of writing intensive courses, I think the shift has been recent. My understanding that revision means looking at ideas, at my text as a whole, and not just errors of punctuation and repetitive word choice, has been given to me, not by writing teachers, but by professors in other disciplines who read and critique my work. I'm not sure that I was ever taught how to really revise in a writing class; my experience falls into that linear stage model process described by Sommers, where revising was a one-step stop on the way to calling an essay or a paper finished. My exposure earlier in the semester to the idea that writing is never really finished has helped me not only to feel better about my work (even though it's never perfect), but has also given me a willingness and motivation to take the time to go back and revisit writing that I have done in the past.

Writing, Meaning, and Higher Order Reasoning

Ann Berthoff has some very interesting ideas about language and meaning, but I'm not sure that I grasp the full meaning of her theories.

Berthoff's triadic model is intriguing, but I don't have a clear sense of how it differs from the diadic model. How is the "message" part of the diadic triangle different from "interpretant or reference" of the triadic model? What is the definition of message? How can the triadic model be applied in teaching writing? (VV 337)

Berthoff also talks about the hypostatic and discursive aspects of language. Is it an oversimplification to say that the hypostatic element deals with naming while the discursive element deals with describing? That the hypostatic element is akin to abstraction while the discursive element aligns itself with generalization (in the sense that Berthoff uses generalization--as discursive abstraction)? (VV 338)

I'm also intrigued by this notion of looking again, by discovering how perspectives and contexts relate to and control one another and how this idea can be applied in the classroom (VV 340).

Not much commentary in this post, but lots of questions that tonight's guides can help us answer!

Application, Convention, and Transparency

I appreciate Ann George's essay on critical pedagogy more for what it says about the application of theory in general than for its specific focus on critical theory (although I feel she does a very good job looking into the application of critical theory in the classroom). George is someone who has a foot in the real world (sometimes I wonder if some of the theorists ever step foot outside of their ivory towers to experience life). She's willing to admit that while she intellectually supports a certain theory, she has trouble applying it in the classroom.

George calls for more stories of failure as a means of keeping expectations realistic and of critiquing pedagogy (GT 98). As I learn new skills and techniques, I find examples of what not to do or warnings against common obstacles just as valuable as the polished models that demonstrate how the skill or technique in question should be applied. I imagine that teachers, especially new teachers or teachers just learning a new theory or pedagogy, will be nervous about implementing something new, and will almost certainly not apply their new knowledge perfectly. Thus stories of failure are helpful in allowing teachers to avoid possible pitfalls as well as helping them feel a part of a community of educators working to apply theoretical principles in a real world setting.

I also heartily agree with George's argument that it is necessary to teach students practical and vocational skills--even though they might be anti-resistance. I see (at least) two reasons for this: first, as George mentions, like it or not, a knowledge and mastery of the conventions is just necessary to operate successfully in society; second, if students choose to rebel, they should have an understanding of what they are rebelling against. Most pioneering artists--I'm thinking specifically of painters--were trained in the academic or salon style before shocking the world with a breakthrough style. Similarly, if students want to make a statement by flouting convention or ideology, they should have a good understanding of what it is they are opposed to.

George paraphrases Freire when she says, "the liberatory teacher will, thus, train students yet simultaneously problematize that training" (GT 102). As a teacher, I don't think that there is anything wrong with being transparent with students about what theory or pedagogy is influencing your teaching. In fact, a certain level of transparency can help students better understand the motivation behind and goals for specific assignments or class structure.

The Cultural Studies Approach to Writing

I felt that George and Trimbur did a good job of laying out an overview of cultural studies. I appreciated their frank admission of their own biases and their willingness to look at some of the arguments against the theory. While the article assumed familiarity with composition theory, they were able to connect cultural studies with writing, which is something that Trimbur's paper, "Consensus and Difference in Collaborative Learning" does not do.

The clear connection of cultural studies to the teaching of writing is what I see as this theory's tragic flaw. As a discipline in itself, I find no problem with cultural studies. I do, however, find difficulty believing that this approach should be used as a method of teaching writing. Despite cultural studies' claim that it is "politically committed but nondoctrinaire" (Tobin, 74) George and Trimbur do not adequately resolve for me the concern that a cultural studies approach to writing "forc[es] a leftist ideology on vulnerable young people instead of teaching writing" (84).

I believe that there is a better way to create a space for marginalized groups (races, ethnicities, immigrants, etc.) and media (pop culture) in writing. I would adopt Hairston's idea that multiculuralism should be developed not through content assigned by the teacher, but through "the diversity of life experiences reflected in the students' writing" (85). I like the process and expressionist theories that call for student autonomy and individuality in writing. As students write about their own experiences and viewpoints and then share their work with their classmates, they will be exposed to a variety of opinions and perspectives, which (hopefully) will lead to more informed and understanding students.

Trimbur contends that working for consenus in communities is a superior learning strategy because in reality each individual is always part of a community (VV, 463). That statement can very easily be argued against, but let's take it to be true. If the individual is always part of a community, then writing may be the one place for a person to have a truly individual experience.

Even more importantly, and going back to what I said at the beginning about the faulty connection between cultural studies and writing, is that Trimbur's ideas about consensus and collaborative learning don't lend themselves readily to writing. His layout of transitional communities focuses on speaking. Where is the writing in this theory?

What I see in cultural studies, specifically in Trimbur's "Consensus and Difference in Collaborative Learning" is a consuming obssession with power. I believe this approach is an attempt to bring a specific ideology into the writing classroom and to bring more credibility to the discipline of writing by infusing it with politically correct or theoretically fashionable ideas in order to give it more academic or intellectual weight.