Delivering College Composition

Delivering College Composition Ed. Kathleen Yancy

Is college composition delivered in a way that is most effective to impact student learning? For a course that is required of nearly all students, FYC is often looked down upon in its own department (at least historically it has been), often seen as drudgery by the students, and misunderstood by the campus community. It is a class that students try to get out of, and are often encouraged to do so by their high school advisors and parents — who all apparently devalue, or don’t see the importance of the work done in FYC. Because of all this, it is critical that the delivery of college composition is regularly reconsidered in order to ensure that college composition is best able to positively impact the students who complete the coursework (and to convince the detractors that the work is important for all students to take).

Interestingly, Joyce Magnotto Neff, in “ Getting Our Money’s Worth,” and Irwin Weiser, in  “Faculties, Students, Sites, Technologies,” both offer revisions to the delivery of college composition that coincide with one another. Is it possible to reduce the composition sequence to just one class, and is it possible to make sections of composition into large lecture-hall style classes? Purdue University has made a radical change to the way it offers college composition, as Weiser describes, condensing the two-course sequence to just one class and Neff offers a suggestion on how to reconfigure composition courses to utilize a lab/lecture style, allowing multiple faculty to be involved in the teaching of writing. I wonder if other institutions worry too much about how they deliver composition. Course content is one thing, but radically changing the way the actual course is delivered and students are taught doesn’t happen too often, I believe. But in order to stay relevant, especially in the students’ eyes, it is important to consistently re-evaluate the way composition is offered. In the English departments I have been a part of, there have been curricular concerns, and learning outcomes have been reconfigured, but there has never been discussion of altering the  methods of how the class actually meets, how the class is taught, or how the students learn. The one exception is when a class is offered as an online course, but the delivery changes are up to that one instructor who is offering that course, and in most cases, the online delivery is largely devised based upon how that instructor teaches his face-to-face courses — the materials are the same, the only change is that students walk themselves through the materials. Isn’t it dangerous to fall into thinking that the way composition has always been delivered is the best way?  Certainly what worked in the past has served composition well, but with improvements in technology, curriculum, classroom structure (for some), isn’t it time (and a good idea) to review how we teach? Should composition classes be held, ever, in a lecture hall? Or should composition classes always be held in a writing (computer) lab?

I am not saying that the ways both of these folks discuss revising their composition curriculum will work the best, but I am happy to see people/departments proposing, and even enacting change in the delivery of composition.  Where I teach, I doubt these types of conversations have been had, ever. Sure we’ve updated outcomes, but the fyc classes are divided into two courses, and each meets for 150 minutes a week, for the entire semester. Each course is taught by one faculty member, and each section has twenty students in it. There is one computer lab for the department, and only a few sections are assigned to it — nobody else can use the lab. By evaluating the way fyc is delivered, my department might be able to determine if there are issues with how the classes are delivered, which may be beneficial to students. If things are allowed to remain stagnant, then students, even more than already do, will view the writing class as something that they don’t really need. After all, they’ve taken high school English, junior high English, and English throughout grade school — shouldn’t they know it all by now? In their eyes, we will be irrelevant … unless we evolve.

Failure to evolve will allow the writing classes to continue to be devalued by some in-coming students, colleagues, and administrators. Evidence of this is everywhere in the reading: Jolliffe and Phelan state that “parents, students, school administrators, high school teachers, and university administrators … tend to see AP English as a method to avoid college writing courses rather than as a means to place into a writing course that is appropriately challenging” (95). Weiser talks of a writing class at Harvard that was combined with a first-year experience (that took up ⅓ of the curriculum), which further the “composition-as-empty-vessel mindset” (35). And Teressa Redd comments that college composition “is a service course designed to prepare students for their academic careers and beyond” (74). In order to combat these negative views of fyc, Jolliffe and Phelan urge “Colleges and universities … to make first-year English courses more demanding and, consequently, less likely to be see — by students, parents, administrators and the public at large — as something that can be avoided” (103). Until conversations occur in English departments about what curricular and delivery changes should be made, composition will always be viewed as a class that isn’t necessary and may be avoided (but only if they’re (un)lucky).

The Function of Theory in Composition

The Function of Theory in Composition by Raul Sanchez

What is the function of theory in composition? Does practice drive theory, or does theory drive practice? After reading The Function of Theory in Composition, I am not sure if I know enough about composition theory to weigh in on this. The idea of hermeneutics and writing theory, makes sense to me, as does Sanchez’s criticism, with the focus of theory being on the product that develops after the act of writing occurs, which continues then to focus on the act of interpretation of the writing instead of the focus being on the actual act of writing. I see this theory moving directly into the composition classroom, where too often, the emphasis of the class is on the writing that was created (the product) instead of the emphasis being on the act of writing. 
    Sanchez proves this concern by working his way through a few textbooks and discussing their content, and some of the assignments students are asked to do as they work through the textbook. Specifically Sanchez looks at Seeing & Writing 2, by Donald and Christine McQuade, and he analyzes the text in connection with the impact of cultural theory on composition. Sanchez explains that this book “presents writing in a very familiar way: as a technology to be put in the service of hermeneutic activity” and “its advice on how to write texts is brief and arhetorical” (65), often asking students to create writings without much discussion, or instruction, of how those writings are actually created. This seems to be a common problem when the writing class becomes too concerned with outside content. Sanchez continues: “in subsequent chapters, the apparatus devoted to writing instruction repeatedly asks students to ‘write an essay’ on the topic at hand. But the book does not treat the essay as a genre with history  and a range of rhetorical purposes, and it does not show students how actually to write one” (66). In “One Person, Many Worlds: A Multi-Cultural Composition Curriculum,” Deloris Schriner shows the curriculum she created to expose students to multicultural issues, but in the various tasks the students are asked to complete, “At no point, it seems, are students given instruction about how to carry out these [writing] assignments” (67). Writing is used “to do other work, notably to teach reflection and interpretation, but the act of writing itself is neither understood nor presented to students as a participatory, cultural, or rhetorical act” (68). As writing classes become too concerned with other topics, whether they be literature, cultural theory, ecology, or any other ‘subject’ itself, some aspect of the emphasis of the course is lost — and that aspect is often the discussion of and teaching of the writing itself. When this is the case, does the course focus its attention, then, on the product of the student as opposed to focusing on the process of the student? This is where theory really needs to be employed.
The function of theory in composition is to help teachers of writing to improve their own classes to better assist students in learning to write. From there, these classes, the students, and their work, should be studied in order to develop evidence that works to support or disprove theory. So if a class uses a specific textbook, such as Seeing and Writing 2, or is focused on a particular framework ,such as multi-cultural awareness, the results of the class should be studied to determine how effective such a class, or such materials in a class, really are. There must be evidence to determine whether the theory of developing a cultural studies-based composition class is a good decision, or whether it is one that has a different agenda than the outcomes of a composition course state the course will focus on. Are students really learning how they write, and how to evaluate their own writing or are they learning more about becoming a citizen concerned with multi-cultural awareness. Nobody would argue that a student becoming more aware of other cultures is not desirable, but is it the most important goal of a composition course? Maybe both goals, of a learning writer and a multi-culturally aware student, can be met — but research of the theory is needed to prove this. The students and their work must be measured to determine how well the results stack up to the learning outcomes and objectives of that course.
While Sanchez raises numerous questions regarding how composition theory is created and whether the creation of composition theory is valuable, the book left me with more questions than answers. I agree that writing should be valued, and it should be valued in the act of creation, in a writing class, as opposed to valued as the creation (or interpreted), as one might do in a literature class. There is a distinction there. But it is interesting that the development of composition theory has been so reliant on other theories, such as Hairston’s employment of Kuhn’s theory, and the application of these diverse theories to writing. It is also interesting that Sanchez states that there has been little new development in composition theory itself, in recent years. Is the field stagnant?  Ugh — so many questions, so few answers, but I walk away with a better understanding of the role of a writing class, the purpose of theory, and its connection to practice.

Transforming English Studies Parts 3 and 4

Transforming English Studies Parts III and IV

Is there a ‘crisis’ in English departments? Does an English Studies focus help to reduce the scope of that crisis? The crisis exists, yes. But it doesn’t scream out ‘CRISIS!’ to me. Or at least, I don’t come across the crisis too often in my everyday life, or much at all in the English department I work in. But I teach at a community college, where there is a divide between those who teach composition and those who teach literature, but I think the department has adopted the corporate compromise model — we’re okay over here, as long as you are okay over there. There is a separation, but the players involved seem content. The bigger picture is the state of English departments at four-year universities, where courses aside from general intro to literature courses and first-year composition are taught. The rift appears to be larger, the sides to be more firmly rooted, and the stakes to be higher. In some cases, English departments are separating into literature departments and writing departments — but at what cost? Honestly, I don’t know the answer to that — but I do think that establishing English Studies departments can help to mend the crisis. It can bridge the gaps between the two major sides: literature and composition.

I am not sure how prevalent English Studies is. I hadn’t heard of it until coming to Illinois State, but to me, it seems to be a good idea. It seems to be a nice way to level the field — show that all aspects of the English department are valuable and important to study. And exposing students to such a variety of subfields within English is great too. For a college student, gaining exposure to the workings of members of an English department would probably be surprising. As an undergrad, I had no idea that members of an English department might study/research/write about things other than literature. I had no exposure to those subfields, or I should say, the exposure I had didn’t exactly show the value of these subfields. I was required to take a linguistics course — but just one, and it felt more like a hoop to jump through rather than something that had value. The professional writing/technical writing class I took did little to show that it was really an area of academic study; instead, it felt like a class the frat guys took to get an English credit — and I felt quite out of place. When these classes were taught, I got the distinct feeling that the professors would rather be doing anything but teaching these classes. Because of that, I didn’t value the coursework. And, “a lack of interaction [between subfields] with the established system leads to programs that become isolated totalities, unable to inform or interact with broader disciplinary practices” (Pifer 186).  But in an English Studies model, I can see the intersections of technical writing and composition, of linguistics and literature; I understand that common thread that runs through all of the courses offered and areas of expertise within an English department. But even more importantly, I understand that there is a sense of respect amongst those who teach in disparate areas — even attempts to bring the expertise of others into their own classes. And, in order for the entire department to stay relevant, as Lynee Lewis Gaillet states, “Rather than retreat to our separate (but equal?) corners, English department faculty need to explore ways in which our goals are similar” (163). Michael Pennell explains that “recent considerations of the changing nature of English studies have relied on writing as the common element or glue in the disparate pieces” of an English department. Yes, writing exists in much of the curriculum in many of our courses, but it is not the only commonality we have between our courses. By exposing students, especially undergrads, early in their coursework to a class, such as ISU’s ENG 100, students might get a better sense of what path they wish to follow, in their English education (or they might opt to get a generalists perspective and dabble in ALL the subfields).
What might happen to the English department that splits? Can a writing program develop into a department and be seen as much more than a service by members of the college community (outside of those in English)? Would a literature program remain relevant and continue to exist, when there appears to be “an interesting reversal of ranks, [with] composition — the discipline often taught by marginalized faculty with unmanageable workloads — ‘represents a world of hope’ (Bloom, Daiker, and White 277); literature, on the other hand, ‘does not have much of a public rationale for itself’ (Berube 32)” (McDonald151). And what would become of smaller subsets, such as linguistics and creative writing? This, I think, is where the PhD in English Studies can work to do much benefit to the dissolving, or infighting English department. As Matthew T. Pifer discusses, those whose studies have exposed them to a wide variety of English offerings, can serve as the glue that can hold a department together : “the work produced by generalists, in many cases, has a cooperative and often interdisciplinary feature … these generalists should be encouraged to think of scholarship … as a methodology connecting teaching and scholarship to service and making it possible for each to inform the other” (190). I believe that one with a generalist education, in the appropriate job market would be more marketable and in demand than one with a very specific specialization. The applicant who might be able to teach a wider variety of courses, or help revise curriculum outside of his/her specialty area, would be in demand. This idea of collaboration would be living within the skillset of one who studied in an English studies department, and this person would be able to work in a variety of ways within an English department, teaching a variety of courses; meanwhile, the one who graduated with a specialty so unique, has already situated him/herself on an island … waiting for just the right job to appear, and hope that he/she might get it.

Transforming English Studies

Part I and II of Transforming English Studies

The divide exists. What’s at stake because of this divide between rhet/comp and literature? Who actually benefits when an English department is divided? What actually pushes a department to divide? While there are some institutions, such as ISU, that have unified English departments that work to maintain an English studies focus, there are plenty of other departments whose members cannot get along, and, frankly, might not want to get along. Some departments split, while others limp along, agreeing to disagree about the value of the work both sides do. And, even within the two sides, there are divisions as well, and those small divisions might turn into larger gaps one day, causing even more divides – and even more confusion about what English really consists of. But, I want to focus on the main divide: literary studies and rhet/comp. In my experience teaching at a four community colleges, I have seen the divide, and it is alive and well. In fact, this divide was even clear where I worked on my M.A. I had very little exposure to studying rhet/comp; at best, one graduate level course, focusing on rhet/comp, was offered each academic year, while there were dozens of literature courses to choose from. Clearly, literature is valued there. The importance of literature is stressed even further there by looking at who teaches the literature courses, full-time, tenured professors, as opposed to the yearly contracted, non-tenure track Unit B staff who teaches the FYC courses. As William P. Banks explains, this also prolongs the “egregious forms of labor exploitation at the university: massive mental and physical labor  for low pay, rare and/or inconsistent health insurance and retirement benefits, and no job security” (108). And the belittling of composition continues with the inclusion of literature in the second FYC course, at this institution and at others – it is actually an Intro to Lit course, that includes some writing instruction.  As if writing cannot be content for an entire semester of study.
Most in the English departments I have been a part of grudgingly teach composition courses, while they lobby to teach classes within their specialty area. There are also those who prefer to teach the composition courses, but never more than a few sections, and like to balance those out with a lit class or two. There are also, though more rare, those who teach composition exclusively. And it almost always remains the same: those who teach a full load of composition classes are pitied by those who don’t. Unfortunately, this reinforces the notion that composition classes are the grunt work of the department, best suited for adjunct faculty who have little to offer the professional community. Of course this is misguided, but this is the reality. This came to mind immediately when I read of how James Child kicked a chair over as he proclaimed, “Do you know that I corrected themes in Harvard College for twenty-five years?” (74). I imagine this said with a groaning “Twenty-five years.” In the departments I’ve been a part of, the teaching of a lit class is the reward for taking on a few composition classes; those who teach composition are pitied by the rest of the department (and even the college – “how do you grade so many papers?”); and it is also the composition teachers’ job to make sure that their students (the same students who are also in other classes – classes that require some writing) to teach those students how to write for any and all situations.  It appears to me that the division, and misunderstanding, is firmly in place.
I believe the division of a department occurs because people believe life would be easier if the people in their department were people who viewed the work of others to be as valuable as their own work, which is often not the case in departments where the divide exists. Honestly, couldn’t this type of professional bickering occur in any department? What if the US historians wanted to create their own history department? Would it be possible for the biology department to divide into two smaller departments that emphasize different aspects of biology? But what actually happens if everyone in a department agrees on the value of the work done, or the scholarship accomplished? If everyone sees eye to eye on the work done, might that not cause some department members to get a bit relaxed with their work? Isn’t it usually the naysayers who push people to defend and justify their work, often resulting in stronger work, more insightful research, and more effective classes?  Instead of breaking up, or divorcing, wouldn’t it strengthen the department to come to a consensus of how all the various factions could come together to offer a stronger curriculum, one that helps students (and even faculty) the value of all the differing focuses of the members of an English department? I agree with William P. Banks, in that it’s time to embrace the conflict and value the differences amongst our professional alignments.
In the end, it is best for an English department to stick together. The compositionists shouldn’t be at odds with the literature specialists. There are strong ties that bind all subsets of an English department.  It’s our differences that help to strengthen the various groups within the department.

Reflection Piece for ENG 239

Project Proposal Letter to Kairos: Praxis

Dear Kairos Praxis editors,

I am attaching a submission to the Praxis section of Kairos, entitled, “Going Multimodal: Documenting My Development.” This piece is done in a blog format, and captures the development of a piece of multimodal composition (and also exists as a piece of multimodal comp.). The piece currently resides at this website: http://goingmultimodal.wordpress.com
I hope you will consider publishing this piece, as it continues the call for more rhetoricians to explore their own development of multimodal pieces, but does so not in print, as has mainly occurred before, but is a multimodal composition itself.

This project began with the desire to ask my own first-year composition (fyc) students to create multimodal work; the only problem is that I doubt(ed) my students’ ability to make that type of work happen. I teach online, and am not able to easily help students out who encounter difficulty, and I envision this type of work overwhelming some of the students. So I set forth to create my own multimodal work, to use as an example piece, to see what creating this type of project was really like, to determine if it is feasible for my own students to do (or not). But I didn’t just want to create the piece; I wanted to study the creation of it, and document the development of it, to help me better understand the complexity behind creating such a work and also to ensure that such a project is something that I believe my own students could create.

This documentation of my own multimodal process is focused on the creation of a text that I believe any one of my students could create. I have developed a piece similar to what I believe my students might create, and I have captured the creation of that piece. I don’t think this submission works to show step-by-step how to create a piece such as this, but it does work through the numerous decisions that I made as I worked to create the piece, and it gives a rough idea of how complex the creation of something multimodal can be. It also shows, quite openly and honestly, the various changes that can occur as the development of a multimodal work takes shape.

I look forward to hearing back from you, and am willing to work with any suggestions you might have to help this piece work better. Immediately, I am concerned about the organization of the steps (mini-pieces) in the larger work and some minor technical issues, such as the sound quality.Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Jason Dockter

Review Letter sent to Jonathan

This is the letter that I sent to Jonathan in response to the draft of his project:Jonathan,

Your argument/intro to the argument is exciting — well, it’s exciting to me. The idea that the banking model of education (or at least the attempt at the banking model that many make) needs to be abandoned is very thought-provoking. I would love to see the interview with yourself (or maybe I already have — is this what you showed me in class a few weeks ago?) to see how you tie this piece together. Initially, when I finished reading your writing, I felt that it ended a bit suddenly, but as it is an introduction to the collection of student works, there’s not much more that it needs to accomplish, so I am not sure if that is something that you need to worry about or not.  But regardless of how it ends, the piece makes me want to see what follows, and I did go through and watch all of the students’ works, so you accomplish your objective.

As for the heuristic goes, here are my thoughts:

Navigation: What needs to be said? The navigation is clearly visible on the right-hand side, and the piece is quite easy to work through. I wonder if you might try to make some of the breaks more along the lines of paragraph breaks, as there was one, maybe two, spots where the page break was in the middle of a paragraph, which was a bit distracting. The link for the “I” will be obvious when the link is working, so navigating that will be easy as well. As the piece should be read in a linear progression, you leave no room for accidental misreadings — this works well.

Choices: You could have presented this piece using so many different technologies, but using Sophie (aside from making me want to use Sophie for materials that I use in my classes) seemed to work well for developing this piece. I like the feel of the piece as it ties in well with your title. The whole thing has an archaeological feel to it, which is a nice play on native and immigrant, and the formatting of this piece works well to reinforce that. Everything within the document is quite necessary, and there isn’t anything that I think would not belong, or would make the project better if it wasn’t there. Of course, the video interview would be great to see, but I’ll catch up with that in the final version (if I get a chance to see it, and I hope I do).

Purpose/Focus: There certainly is a clear sense of an argument here — your argument is clear. The work of the students works to support that argument. There is a clear sense of purpose and a very strong focus throughout the piece. But I think that is pretty easy to accomplish as what you are introducing, exactly, forces your writing to be focused on introducing it.

Credibility: You clearly show who all is involved in the production of the larger project — undergrads, Cheryl, and a grad student (you). But I wonder if it might be worthwhile to show how you came to be involved with this piece — or why you are involved. As it stands, it could be interpreted that you were randomly chosen (although I know this is not the case, an unknowing reader/viewer might not understand why you are involved as opposed to any other graduate student). Not sure if this is really necessary or not, but it is something that would strengthen your credibility in this piece.
Appreciation: This works very well on both levels: content and presentation. The content is engaging, thoughtful, and thorough. And the presentation is easy-to-navigate, effectively designed, and doesn’t distract the reader with excess/fluff. As I said before, this shows, nicely, what one might do with Sophie — I need to play around with this a bit and seriously try to work with it.

– Jason

Final Project — location of final project

My project lives HERE:  http://goingmultimodal.wordpress.com

Revising my Project

Thanks to some great feedback from Jonathan, I’ve got some thinking to do! I wondered about the order to the bits and pieces of the project, and he suggested that I put the ‘finished’ piece first, and then follow it up with the documentary-style pieces that explain the development of that piece. I had done the reverse, for I thought it important to discuss the building/creating of the piece before I showed the actual piece. I am not sure if I will change this or not; I see the logic in doing this both ways. I did rework the structore of the literature review, as Jonathan suggested — I had this all as one lump block of text before. Other technical suggestions were to work on leveling out some of the sound quality, which I am not really sure how to do.This is where my lack of production tools, and knowledge of them (if I had them) gets me into trouble. I think the piece has to work ‘as is’ in the sound department. I finished, tonight, creating the written versions of the videos, so that they are accessible to all audiences who might find their way to this blog.

Revising the Rice/Ball Project

These two response letters are so different in response that they make developing a revision plan difficult. I am not saying that one loved the piece and the other hated it, but one offered a very specific suggestion for how to organize and present the piece, while the other (longer) one, offered more praise, and smaller, content-related suggestions.  If this was my piece to revise, I would begin with the specific organizational suggestions and try to re-envision the piece in terms of how this reader sees it working. The suggestion of this piece working as a DVD, with additional content aside from the feature makes sense, and I would start off trying to figure out if I could, with my technological know how, work up a piece that would begin with a menu that resembled a DVD.  Obviously, the actual student-movie would be the feature, but I don’t readily come up with titles for the other content areas that are involved in the piece. The second reader seemed to want to have more navigational choices in the piece. This reader wanted more content, but more content that explored more of the variant ideas that ran through the authors’ heads as they were evaluating the piece of new medi, and developing their own texts. So my revision would mainly begin with redeveloping the presentation of the piece. This is a SIGNIFICANT undertaking … one that would take much time and effort. But once that had been accomplished, I would look more closely at the 2nd reader’s requests.   Certainly, I could develop more content, such as the ‘OR’ pieces that were enjoyed and requested without too much difficulty.