Kenneth Bruffee has written an intriguing essay on the nature, history, practice, and necessity of collaborative education in the world in which we depend on conversation and social learning to come to agreements on important issues we try to be knowledgeable about and also to come to new understandings based on individually revolutionary ideas on the traditional. He points out that collaborative education is not a new concept and it has been the largely natural process of developing good judgment, genuine interaction with peers, thought-provoking interior reflection, and consequential meaningful discussion throughout history. He explains that we need to work together in order to know the source of "normal discourse" and contribute more appropriately to it, whether in approval or contradiction to the established ideas being communicated. In theory, if we understand the nature of the world we are speaking about, we can thus speak better about its constituents. I like that he establishes that writing can only develop from the existence of social interchange and dialogue; otherwise I think writing begins to exclude itself from the social context, its very audience, and becomes inaccessible and alienated. Since knowledge is a "social artifact" and is neither concrete nor singular in truth, it is necessary for a continual conversation to occur in order to further knowledge acquisition in a generative fashion. Bruffee argues that we must constantly be open to negotiation in order to keep this conversation growing, maintaining established ideas of the past while challenging them with innovative ones. We must reacculturate ourselves and our values to stay engaged in the conversation we currently take part in, rather than simply solidify our standing in traditional rights and wrongs.
It is nice sometimes to remember why I came to college to begin with: to put myself into the conversations I wanted to partake in, to immerse myself in my interests and concerns with others doing the same, quite unlike my peers in high school. This is primarily why I often tell my father how thankful I am that he let me come to I.C. rather than take the free route of New Jersey's scholars program. I felt distant from the conversation I had been in all my life back home and I knew the kids who went to the community and local colleges; they did not talk about the subjects I wanted to explore and only seemed to continue those of high school. I felt Ithaca was where I could blossom and develop into the person I dreamed of being; but I also knew that I couldn't do it alone, like I had been trying. Ithaca was the model of collaboration for me at that crucial decision-making time, and I think I chose well, however unconsciously it may have been.
What I love about I.C. is that collaborative education seems to often be the goal, even if it's not always the actual case in execution. I am motivated by their goal to interact more often with my peers and more meaningfully; I've noticed that many of the ones I push to join me actually have, and they keep bringing others into the action. Now, I do this with sincerity because I value my education dearly, and it is frustrating when I learn that students do not share this respect of the learning process and look at school as an obligation, rather than an incredible chance for exploration -- the awful reality of education in high school for me. I'd like to see more collaboration in certain areas, but in the Writing department at least I feel the level of collaborative work I've experienced in workshops, peer revision, meetings, etc. has been just as I'd hoped for. Education feels real and tangible to me in this manner, and I think other students in less collaborative-geared schools, programs, or classes might feel differently about their place in the conversation if they were more aware that they were in it (which I think is what collaborative work ultimately results in-- do you?).
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Flower and Hayes; Lunsford
I apologize for not having these in on time, but I had a second wind of the flu. So, here goes!
Flower and Hayes
Linda Flower and John R. Hayes present their cognitive process theory in four main points: the first, that writers organize as they compose writing, the second, that writing is hierarchical and embedded, the third, that composing is directed by a growing network of goals, and the fourth, that writing is composed with different levels (high and sub-) of goals that support a writer's purpose and that this process can change these goals or create new ones based on what the writer learns during the creation. I found that this model of writing was more effective than that of the stage model since this one emphasizes that all creative choices are contingent upon what ideas are generated in the process, regardless of what initial goals are set forward. I like the potential of having a surprisingly different piece of writing than one intends because the potential for discovery and subsequent major changes in thought and knowledge demand that kind of outcome, in my opinion. The linear model seems to lock one's ideas in the past, returning to the opening as if to simply justify the act of writing, while the other seems to promote and demonstrate true experiential growth and understanding of a topic. Because we go back and forth as we write, and because we read through and compose new drafts once they are "complete," only to change them again, I think the cognitive process model is ideal for generative thinking.
I enjoyed the idea of the think aloud protocols since I often find I forget my thoughts in the writing process and lose track of my ideas that way. I think it would be an interesting experiment to record my spoken thoughts as I work on some piece of writing to see if I become more engaged in it for simply hearing my own thoughts as I think them, and then later on in review. Of course, this process cannot enlighten us 100% as to how our brains work in the writing process, but it certainly provides insight. I also liked the end of the article, in which Flower and Hayes leave us with the image of writing as a process of genuine invention. They emphasize the "inventive power of the writer, who is able to explore ideas, to develop, act on, test, and regenerate his or her own goals" and really present it as a working process, like scientific inquiry. I found that very compelling and true to my own experience.
I think a lot of the reason why we find it difficult to define "a" single process for writing is that it differs for each writer, and for each piece of writing; but I think this article certainly provided a lot of insight into that truth. In my own writing, I can come back to the beginning, reread and not change much, and follow through at the end as I think, in review, it works best to conclude, OR I can write a paragraph or two out of order, write around them, edit tons of sentences out, or whole parts, etc. The possibilities in revision are endless since we do have a real "re-vision" of our work from a slightly new perspective every time. We change our minds about what our goals should be with new knowledge, or new applications of old knowledge. It would be self-fulfilling and inaccurate to simply follow through with one's goal and not alter it one bit after being enlightened with research and consideration of a topic; I think that this is the separation between good and bad writing they discussed.
Lunsford
It strikes me now that, just as writing fits more appropriately under the cognitive process model rather than a linear/stage model, so does the process of learning basic writing skills. I recalled, reading the Andrea A. Lunsford article, that I myself had completed a great number of exercises similar to the ones she provided as basic examples used in training students to analyze and synthesize information in the "de-centering" process. I was, at first, offended by the simplicity of the verbs exercise, assuming that it was intended for an older age group than it must have been; however, I think now that each exercise would likely be beneficial in improving one's growing understanding of a less ego-driven way of making sense of the world, both on paper and not. I thought it was interesting that her argument, that students having trouble understanding unfamiliar circumstances or a person's situation will also have trouble "abstracting from it or replicating it in another context." (38) I thought that it was true that "students learn by doing and then by extrapolating principles from their activities," as well as that education in writing "can serve as a guide to art only if they can be integrated into the practical knowledge" one acquires. (40)
I found it true to my experience that imitation, like Lunsford writes, is truly important in achieving the state of de-centered once it has been understood that a work or style can not only be replicated but individualized, expanded upon, etc. We learn to infer such lessons once our analytical skills improve; and I do believe that successfully completing such exercises as the ones she provides, although shamefully simplistic, most certainly were necessary in continuing down our educational paths. (Though I hope we never had exercises as creepy as the "Oil massages you." one... Honestly, who thought that was a good idea?) Once we got a basic hold on these kinds of tasks, we were thus able to generate our own instances and more unconsciously, eventually, comprehend sentence structure until we could fly through novels and essays without ever really thinking about that careful and precise crafting. I liked that this article unearthed some of those unconscious habits of writing we now all probably take for granted on a daily basis.
As a side note, I also really enjoy seeing the names of other writers we've read being quoted, Janet Emig right at the beginning. It's fascinating to me that they really keep analyzing and synthesizing their thoughts, expanding on them, illuminating them. I wonder if the field of composition theory might never run out of wonderfully insightful new takes on ideas, like the two we read this week.
Flower and Hayes
Linda Flower and John R. Hayes present their cognitive process theory in four main points: the first, that writers organize as they compose writing, the second, that writing is hierarchical and embedded, the third, that composing is directed by a growing network of goals, and the fourth, that writing is composed with different levels (high and sub-) of goals that support a writer's purpose and that this process can change these goals or create new ones based on what the writer learns during the creation. I found that this model of writing was more effective than that of the stage model since this one emphasizes that all creative choices are contingent upon what ideas are generated in the process, regardless of what initial goals are set forward. I like the potential of having a surprisingly different piece of writing than one intends because the potential for discovery and subsequent major changes in thought and knowledge demand that kind of outcome, in my opinion. The linear model seems to lock one's ideas in the past, returning to the opening as if to simply justify the act of writing, while the other seems to promote and demonstrate true experiential growth and understanding of a topic. Because we go back and forth as we write, and because we read through and compose new drafts once they are "complete," only to change them again, I think the cognitive process model is ideal for generative thinking.
I enjoyed the idea of the think aloud protocols since I often find I forget my thoughts in the writing process and lose track of my ideas that way. I think it would be an interesting experiment to record my spoken thoughts as I work on some piece of writing to see if I become more engaged in it for simply hearing my own thoughts as I think them, and then later on in review. Of course, this process cannot enlighten us 100% as to how our brains work in the writing process, but it certainly provides insight. I also liked the end of the article, in which Flower and Hayes leave us with the image of writing as a process of genuine invention. They emphasize the "inventive power of the writer, who is able to explore ideas, to develop, act on, test, and regenerate his or her own goals" and really present it as a working process, like scientific inquiry. I found that very compelling and true to my own experience.
I think a lot of the reason why we find it difficult to define "a" single process for writing is that it differs for each writer, and for each piece of writing; but I think this article certainly provided a lot of insight into that truth. In my own writing, I can come back to the beginning, reread and not change much, and follow through at the end as I think, in review, it works best to conclude, OR I can write a paragraph or two out of order, write around them, edit tons of sentences out, or whole parts, etc. The possibilities in revision are endless since we do have a real "re-vision" of our work from a slightly new perspective every time. We change our minds about what our goals should be with new knowledge, or new applications of old knowledge. It would be self-fulfilling and inaccurate to simply follow through with one's goal and not alter it one bit after being enlightened with research and consideration of a topic; I think that this is the separation between good and bad writing they discussed.
Lunsford
It strikes me now that, just as writing fits more appropriately under the cognitive process model rather than a linear/stage model, so does the process of learning basic writing skills. I recalled, reading the Andrea A. Lunsford article, that I myself had completed a great number of exercises similar to the ones she provided as basic examples used in training students to analyze and synthesize information in the "de-centering" process. I was, at first, offended by the simplicity of the verbs exercise, assuming that it was intended for an older age group than it must have been; however, I think now that each exercise would likely be beneficial in improving one's growing understanding of a less ego-driven way of making sense of the world, both on paper and not. I thought it was interesting that her argument, that students having trouble understanding unfamiliar circumstances or a person's situation will also have trouble "abstracting from it or replicating it in another context." (38) I thought that it was true that "students learn by doing and then by extrapolating principles from their activities," as well as that education in writing "can serve as a guide to art only if they can be integrated into the practical knowledge" one acquires. (40)
I found it true to my experience that imitation, like Lunsford writes, is truly important in achieving the state of de-centered once it has been understood that a work or style can not only be replicated but individualized, expanded upon, etc. We learn to infer such lessons once our analytical skills improve; and I do believe that successfully completing such exercises as the ones she provides, although shamefully simplistic, most certainly were necessary in continuing down our educational paths. (Though I hope we never had exercises as creepy as the "Oil massages you." one... Honestly, who thought that was a good idea?) Once we got a basic hold on these kinds of tasks, we were thus able to generate our own instances and more unconsciously, eventually, comprehend sentence structure until we could fly through novels and essays without ever really thinking about that careful and precise crafting. I liked that this article unearthed some of those unconscious habits of writing we now all probably take for granted on a daily basis.
As a side note, I also really enjoy seeing the names of other writers we've read being quoted, Janet Emig right at the beginning. It's fascinating to me that they really keep analyzing and synthesizing their thoughts, expanding on them, illuminating them. I wonder if the field of composition theory might never run out of wonderfully insightful new takes on ideas, like the two we read this week.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Literacy Autobiographies pt.2
Liam: I love how you throw a lot of seemingly disjointed memories together to recreate your literacy development. I think it's important to illustrate practical learning, like the driving lesson, especially since you came from a working class background. Although my dad certainly encouraged me to pursue academics, the practical education was really the most important at home for me too, so I definitely see its importance. However, I'd like to see you expand on more of those "home" kinds of education experiences in order to keep the opening, which should absolutely not be taken out. I like the bit you say on the second page about how we all have enough experience to write and nothing comes out of nowhere. I think when we have trouble recalling the significance of events in our literacy, like I think we've all had some issue with, we're just taking it for granted a little too much. Great observation. I also like that you value the slowness of your typing because it keeps you going at the same speed as your thoughts. But I'd like to see more of those thoughts on your development, especially at the end where it becomes a little confusing -- that's not where you get to end your history. Great draft.
Caitlin: I was so happy to see all the great detail you added in for this draft! You really started to explore and expand on your memories and opened up a lot of new windows into your earlier years, which we really needed. I don't really know what else you could add, except maybe a little more reflection. I think this essay pretty much contains itself, and that's great. I guess that reflection could come in at the end: maybe elaborate more on what exactly you like about writing teenage fiction? I think, now that you're not a teenager reading this genre anymore, it's important to try to understand what draws you to create more of it. It's something I'm very intrigued by anyway. And of course, I am pretty new to the world of fanfiction so I think it'd be interesting if you explored that a little more too -- though I don't think it's totally necessary to add here. Also a great draft!
Caitlin: I was so happy to see all the great detail you added in for this draft! You really started to explore and expand on your memories and opened up a lot of new windows into your earlier years, which we really needed. I don't really know what else you could add, except maybe a little more reflection. I think this essay pretty much contains itself, and that's great. I guess that reflection could come in at the end: maybe elaborate more on what exactly you like about writing teenage fiction? I think, now that you're not a teenager reading this genre anymore, it's important to try to understand what draws you to create more of it. It's something I'm very intrigued by anyway. And of course, I am pretty new to the world of fanfiction so I think it'd be interesting if you explored that a little more too -- though I don't think it's totally necessary to add here. Also a great draft!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Literacy Autobiographies pt.1
Josh: I was intrigued that you were so eager to perform, despite not being able to read, that you tried to memorize the words you heard the other boys say for their audition. It's interesting how we can want something so desperately, knowing how unqualified or unable we are to complete the required task, and put ourselves through difficulties just to try. I think a lot of really meaningful learning occurs this way, when we put all our energy into it, not necessarily understanding why we want to. I'd be interested in hearing more about your siblings -- why they weren't "gifted" and how they felt about your attendance at the hippie school. I'd also like to read more about your early experiences with art, since you say you were "developing a visual language in which text was secondary to page design, font, and image." That is a very interesting concept to me, since I used to make up a lot of stories based on pictures or objects without needing words; in fact, sometimes I'd just disregard them. Cool memories.
Alex: I was really impressed by your dad's dedication to creativity. It must have been an awesome retreat every weekend going to his house, making up all kinds of stories. I was also impressed by your persistence in writing what you wanted, even though you were reprimanded and your grades were affected. It takes a lot to keep doing that, and I know my response to that kind of negative response to creativity was to just hide all my work away. I became nervous about writing, I think, and picked "safe" subjects, things I'd read in novels and stories, in case someone found my notebooks. I couldn't stop writing, obviously, and neither could you I guess. I had a nice chuckle when I read what you wrote about for your 8th grade essay project and can only imagine how awesome that story must have been. (Also, I just realized you were in my Buddhism class because I vaguely remember you saying you read "The Dharma Bums" and you wrote that in your essay.) It was neat to see how your reading choices changed over the years, and I think you could write a little more analysis on that. And I'm wondering, did you ever share your writing with anyone besides your dad and teachers?
Amanda: I really enjoyed the home setting you evoked in your essay, reading books on your parents bed, reciting the books with your brother. I thought it was interesting that you loved pretending to read, and that your creepy library was the birthplace of your solitary reading initiatives. I loved my library card too, and when my library switched over to a new design I was too attached to let mine go -- though I don't know what I did with it. It's interesting that your parents beat grammar into you and how you feel like you can never to this day make any grammatical mistakes around them. I think that your experience with using expletives in the home is pretty common; I know I at least had that happen to me. "Seriously irreparable damage" is right. I remember though my little brother trying to get me in trouble for singing a bad word (a little louder than necessary) in a Spice Girls song and my mom saying it was alright to sing, but not say to someone. I love that both you and Alex loved telling scary stories at sleepovers, and I remember I always loved when someone at a slumber party was a good storyteller, even though it always scared me sleepless. I wonder why you never wrote them down though, probably because your parents never really encouraged writing I guess. It's great you made the connection though later on. I'm sure your scary stories at least are "worth saying" and I wonder if you could try writing one down from memory. You should try!
Ava: It sure sounds like your house is lively 24/7 but it's really great how that shines through in your personality, even though you say you were straying away from your parents' lifestyle with your writing. I think it's great your dad found a writing group for you; I know my parents, always curious what I did in my room for hours, never really got involved with my writing, and I actually still don't share it with them. I don't know why. It seems you took to writing, not to separate yourself, but to educate yourself and make yourself more able to contribute to your family conversations and "one-up" your folks. I know I've been inspired to read or write or explore an interest I'd never considered before because of familial influence. But it also seems you really did just love writing, and that's awesome. I'd like to read more about your sister though, especially since she's your twin, and how she did or didn't prepare herself to fit that family dynamic. And I forgot all about the book fairs I went to; thanks for the reminder.
Alex: I was really impressed by your dad's dedication to creativity. It must have been an awesome retreat every weekend going to his house, making up all kinds of stories. I was also impressed by your persistence in writing what you wanted, even though you were reprimanded and your grades were affected. It takes a lot to keep doing that, and I know my response to that kind of negative response to creativity was to just hide all my work away. I became nervous about writing, I think, and picked "safe" subjects, things I'd read in novels and stories, in case someone found my notebooks. I couldn't stop writing, obviously, and neither could you I guess. I had a nice chuckle when I read what you wrote about for your 8th grade essay project and can only imagine how awesome that story must have been. (Also, I just realized you were in my Buddhism class because I vaguely remember you saying you read "The Dharma Bums" and you wrote that in your essay.) It was neat to see how your reading choices changed over the years, and I think you could write a little more analysis on that. And I'm wondering, did you ever share your writing with anyone besides your dad and teachers?
Amanda: I really enjoyed the home setting you evoked in your essay, reading books on your parents bed, reciting the books with your brother. I thought it was interesting that you loved pretending to read, and that your creepy library was the birthplace of your solitary reading initiatives. I loved my library card too, and when my library switched over to a new design I was too attached to let mine go -- though I don't know what I did with it. It's interesting that your parents beat grammar into you and how you feel like you can never to this day make any grammatical mistakes around them. I think that your experience with using expletives in the home is pretty common; I know I at least had that happen to me. "Seriously irreparable damage" is right. I remember though my little brother trying to get me in trouble for singing a bad word (a little louder than necessary) in a Spice Girls song and my mom saying it was alright to sing, but not say to someone. I love that both you and Alex loved telling scary stories at sleepovers, and I remember I always loved when someone at a slumber party was a good storyteller, even though it always scared me sleepless. I wonder why you never wrote them down though, probably because your parents never really encouraged writing I guess. It's great you made the connection though later on. I'm sure your scary stories at least are "worth saying" and I wonder if you could try writing one down from memory. You should try!
Ava: It sure sounds like your house is lively 24/7 but it's really great how that shines through in your personality, even though you say you were straying away from your parents' lifestyle with your writing. I think it's great your dad found a writing group for you; I know my parents, always curious what I did in my room for hours, never really got involved with my writing, and I actually still don't share it with them. I don't know why. It seems you took to writing, not to separate yourself, but to educate yourself and make yourself more able to contribute to your family conversations and "one-up" your folks. I know I've been inspired to read or write or explore an interest I'd never considered before because of familial influence. But it also seems you really did just love writing, and that's awesome. I'd like to read more about your sister though, especially since she's your twin, and how she did or didn't prepare herself to fit that family dynamic. And I forgot all about the book fairs I went to; thanks for the reminder.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Very Late Reflection on Perl and Sommers
(As I emailed Jerry, I had a very long day yesterday and didn't get to read and post on time, so I apologize to you all as well for my lateness.)
The Perl essay was very meticulously written and dense, loaded with figures and terms I had a hard time following, although she did keep my interest for most of it. After much rereading and effort to figure out how they worked, I was impressed by the coding systems they used to conduct their research on how "unskilled" writers write and what behaviors they exhibited showed patterns of repetition in other test subjects. It intrigued me that I exhibited a lot of the behaviors that Tony and other case studies produced in their writing processes (i.e. editing within the first few sentences of writing), but then it also struck me that I exhibited just as many behaviors as the experienced writers that Sommers writes about, so I stopped feeling apprehensive about my abilities. (So far I haven't done much editing in this post.) Then I began to wonder about other writers' writing and revision habits, students, "beginners," and experts alike. I thought, especially reading about Tony's tendency to have more trouble writing efficiently on a topic he was not familiar with and could not relate to his own experiences, that this issue of repetition and evasion is a common experience for anyone talking or writing about something they are not well-versed on; and thus I thought maybe that is why "beginner" or "unskilled" writers are lacking in ability, motivation, and desire to improve their written work. Building experience really is necessary for developing writing skills (not getting caught on linear and other models, like Sommers describes, being very important here) and consequently revision skills. It certainly takes an extraordinary amount of time, effort, exposure, and education to become a proficient writer and reviser, and I know I'm far from being there, and probably most people are as well.
I find myself somewhere in the middle of the entire spectrum of non-writers to the best of the bunch, but on the spectrum of college students, certainly above average. I can reflect on my improvement, more aptly in this case in editing, since I have been actively editing since the eighth grade for the newspaper and yearbook and for peers and siblings. I find that most of my early editing was primarily focused on correcting sentence-level issues, grammar, and punctuation, yet over the years I have learned to better piece together ideas and explanations, quotes and paragraphs, etc. When I edit my younger brother's high school papers, I notice that I am no longer just telling him to change "there" to "their" or alter the phrasing a bit. I am helping him develop his ideas and flesh them out in a more appropriate order of progression, and I've noted his improvement on those areas as well (though he is still trapped in the grade-by-format style that stifles his higher level of thinking and reduces it to an "afterthought"-promoting model of "revision" that in fact "function[s] to restrict and circumscribe not only the development of their ideas, but also their ability to change direction of these ideas" (Sommers 383) thereby making both writing and revision moot). I hate to see my brother caught up in rules, training his brain to process the world through the established, conventional, and inefficient methods he is taught, so I do my best to rework his conceptions of education and give it some value, something he is inclined to do but is forced to avoid five days a week, six hours a day (although failing some of his classes proves to me he is unable to submit himself to conceptions he doesn't agree with). But at the same time, I'm doing this for myself -- and it's exhausting. I guess that's the result of working class aspiration though -- something I'm not willing to give up on for myself, or my brother, even though it can be frustrating. Seeing my older brother's progress in education has gotten me this far, and still gets me moving forward. The young one just has some catching up to do, at the beginning of something.
The Perl essay was very meticulously written and dense, loaded with figures and terms I had a hard time following, although she did keep my interest for most of it. After much rereading and effort to figure out how they worked, I was impressed by the coding systems they used to conduct their research on how "unskilled" writers write and what behaviors they exhibited showed patterns of repetition in other test subjects. It intrigued me that I exhibited a lot of the behaviors that Tony and other case studies produced in their writing processes (i.e. editing within the first few sentences of writing), but then it also struck me that I exhibited just as many behaviors as the experienced writers that Sommers writes about, so I stopped feeling apprehensive about my abilities. (So far I haven't done much editing in this post.) Then I began to wonder about other writers' writing and revision habits, students, "beginners," and experts alike. I thought, especially reading about Tony's tendency to have more trouble writing efficiently on a topic he was not familiar with and could not relate to his own experiences, that this issue of repetition and evasion is a common experience for anyone talking or writing about something they are not well-versed on; and thus I thought maybe that is why "beginner" or "unskilled" writers are lacking in ability, motivation, and desire to improve their written work. Building experience really is necessary for developing writing skills (not getting caught on linear and other models, like Sommers describes, being very important here) and consequently revision skills. It certainly takes an extraordinary amount of time, effort, exposure, and education to become a proficient writer and reviser, and I know I'm far from being there, and probably most people are as well.
I find myself somewhere in the middle of the entire spectrum of non-writers to the best of the bunch, but on the spectrum of college students, certainly above average. I can reflect on my improvement, more aptly in this case in editing, since I have been actively editing since the eighth grade for the newspaper and yearbook and for peers and siblings. I find that most of my early editing was primarily focused on correcting sentence-level issues, grammar, and punctuation, yet over the years I have learned to better piece together ideas and explanations, quotes and paragraphs, etc. When I edit my younger brother's high school papers, I notice that I am no longer just telling him to change "there" to "their" or alter the phrasing a bit. I am helping him develop his ideas and flesh them out in a more appropriate order of progression, and I've noted his improvement on those areas as well (though he is still trapped in the grade-by-format style that stifles his higher level of thinking and reduces it to an "afterthought"-promoting model of "revision" that in fact "function[s] to restrict and circumscribe not only the development of their ideas, but also their ability to change direction of these ideas" (Sommers 383) thereby making both writing and revision moot). I hate to see my brother caught up in rules, training his brain to process the world through the established, conventional, and inefficient methods he is taught, so I do my best to rework his conceptions of education and give it some value, something he is inclined to do but is forced to avoid five days a week, six hours a day (although failing some of his classes proves to me he is unable to submit himself to conceptions he doesn't agree with). But at the same time, I'm doing this for myself -- and it's exhausting. I guess that's the result of working class aspiration though -- something I'm not willing to give up on for myself, or my brother, even though it can be frustrating. Seeing my older brother's progress in education has gotten me this far, and still gets me moving forward. The young one just has some catching up to do, at the beginning of something.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Donald Murray and Janet Emig (and I) Talk Writing
I like Emig's idea that talking is pre-writing. I have always been a poor conversationalist, preferring to organize my ideas slowly, prepare them visually, scratch out, erase, or delete the words that fail to express the meaning I wish to convey and replace them with more fitting words. I never feel like a conversation allows me to say much of anything significant, although I don't think it's impossible for everyone. I am just a careful and patient thinker, wishing that I could explain my thought processes and conclusions, well, more thoughtfully and conclusively -- and this is why I hesitate. I hate thinking on my toes, knowing I can't effectively reach for some distantly related memory (I always lose people in conversation, working my way to a point I feel is coming, but my listeners often can't) and arrive at a perfect full circle conclusion. Even in a blog, I feel like I am not crafting my thoughts so carefully as I would for a paper. I feel more loose, slangy, laid back. I feel like I am talking, in a sense, "not to say that writing is talk recorded" but more that pre-writing might be (Emig 123). I feel like this is pre-writing.
While Emig discusses more the inner realm of learning and its nature as developed physically, psychologically, and socially, Murray argues more for respect for good writing professors and students and writing as an intellectual, honest, and satisfying pursuit. He claims that writing is a powerful tool for self-discovery and thinks it vital that students of writing are able to write as they think and "read their own words to find out what they've said and decide how to say it more effectively" (1235). I think building on this skill in this fashion would improve not only writing capabilities but also self-consideration and self-expression. He brings up a good point, that "discovery drafts" and failures are necessary to this improvement (1237). It is only through self-evaluation, he argues that we even make way in our brains for these improvements to be made. I find a lot of personal truth in these ideas.
Lastly, I would like to add a quote that resounded for me: "Writing as a mode is inherently more self-reliant than speaking" (Emig 127). Perhaps I prefer writing because I like to consider myself fairly self-reliant, or perhaps it is because of that self-reliance that I developed my writing skills more seriously than my speaking ones. What do you think of this relationship? Causation? Correlation? Coincidence?
While Emig discusses more the inner realm of learning and its nature as developed physically, psychologically, and socially, Murray argues more for respect for good writing professors and students and writing as an intellectual, honest, and satisfying pursuit. He claims that writing is a powerful tool for self-discovery and thinks it vital that students of writing are able to write as they think and "read their own words to find out what they've said and decide how to say it more effectively" (1235). I think building on this skill in this fashion would improve not only writing capabilities but also self-consideration and self-expression. He brings up a good point, that "discovery drafts" and failures are necessary to this improvement (1237). It is only through self-evaluation, he argues that we even make way in our brains for these improvements to be made. I find a lot of personal truth in these ideas.
Lastly, I would like to add a quote that resounded for me: "Writing as a mode is inherently more self-reliant than speaking" (Emig 127). Perhaps I prefer writing because I like to consider myself fairly self-reliant, or perhaps it is because of that self-reliance that I developed my writing skills more seriously than my speaking ones. What do you think of this relationship? Causation? Correlation? Coincidence?
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