My Focus

To explore how we can use words as tools, and how we can improve the way writing is taught to achieve that.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Techy Tutors

I am from the internet generation. I entered elementary school when AOL took off. I was one of the first kids to use AOL Instant Messenger. I remember when MySpace began. I remember when Facebook started. My papers in high school were typed and emailed to teachers. In college, I've only submitted one hand-written piece of work, ever. The development of the web and online technologies has significantly influenced my life. I grew up alongside the internet. As I matured, it matured. But not everyone's like me, and no one knows my future or the internet's.

Michael Pemberton's article "Planning for Hypertexts in the Writing Center... Or Not" discusses how writing centers should respond to the plethora of new technologies for the computer and on the internet. He proposes different possible response paths ranging from not treating hypertexts any differently than any other writing to extensive training in computer applications and programs. Neither of these approaches appropriately makes space for our technological developments in the writing center. My thoughts...

First, since this article was first published in 2003, many computer and web programs have turned what used to take complicated coding into simple user-friendly tools. Many of the training concerns Pemberton stresses don't hold much water any more. Some students may be involved in projects that require advanced or specific knowledge into a particular program or coding language, for which they can utilize technology services on campuses, but the majority of hypertextual work being done by students is written via programs that all students are very familiar with.

Second, why do we need to make some type of declaration of our ultimate policy? Doing so would both require constant unnecessary adjustments to policy as technology advances but also an unnecessarily dogmatic response to something foreign. It seems like certain requests and situations involving advancing technology in the writing center will be reasonable, others will not, and that it is perfectly fine to leave that to the writing consultants discretion. If it involves deeper understanding then they feel qualified to use, then they should do what they would otherwise, and refer the student to someone with the correct expertise.

Otherwise, hypertexts are familiar territory to student writing consultants, and do not need to be treated any differently beyond accommodating for hypertext specific concerns, such as online citations, hypertext formatting (i.e. no indentations at the beginning of paragraphs), and other technical stuff. The art of writing is the same no matter the medium through which it is presented, and so if the aim of writing consultants is to make better writers, it would seem that we don't have to change our direction very much to hit the same target.

Monday, April 12, 2010

WATCHing Writers

As this blog has emphasizes for the past couple of weeks, cultural factors play a huge role in writing consultations, especially when those cultural influences are as deep as those of international and ESL students. It's clear that writing consultants and centers need to adapt their pedagogy a bit to maximize the positive impact we have on these writers, and some general cautions have been discussed, but how do these broad concerns play out in an actual consultation?

In "Creating a Common ground with ESL writers", authors David Mosher, Davin Granroth, and Troy Hicks, propose a WATCH protocol for consultations with ESL writers, highlighting nine examples of common scenarios with ESL writers to exhibit how the WATCH protocol can serve as a reliable rule of thumb for these situations. WATCH stands for: Talk about the Writer, talk about the Audience/Assignment, talk about the Text, being aware of Communication Caveats, and to be sure that you're being Helpful. The WATCH protocol echos the arguments in my previous posts about establishing a healthy relationship and deepened level of empathy/patience with ESL students.

I think, however, that the real strength of this article lies in the insights extracted from the nine specific areas of "cultural variance" that consultants need to be aware of. Even though the WATCH protocol is all well and good, it isn't very specific, and for all the talk of offering directive tutoring when appropriate, I think this is one of those times when the consultant is the one in need of directive tutoring. The nine areas of cultural variance in writing that are discussed are topic development, transition signaling, directness, metaphoric usage, digressions, argumentation and support, voice/stance, product vs. process oriented thinking, and views on intellectual property.

The advice provided in each of these areas is massively helpful, however, I noticed that a pattern emerged. When trying to bridge gaps between American norms and the norms of other cultures, the authors always suggest that the consultant ask the writer what they meant to say. The very act of rewording usually clarifies the intent of the writer for the consultant, but also shows the writer how by rewording their ideas they used language more familiar to Americans.

This got me thinking. Why do we only go out of our way to engage in this type of consultation for ESL students? Wouldn't these same technique be just as effective with American students, who though they may not face enormous cultural barriers, still have difficulty communicating their ideas? I think so. I think it would also allow consultants to ethically be more directive with American students. We can specifically point to errors or areas of concern and why they could be better, but then force the task of addressing those issues back onto the writer.

What I mean to say is, I think the style of tutoring we adopt for ESL students is the superior style of tutoring for all students. Students are looking for direct help, and we can provide that direct help ethically as long as we don't become the "fixers". As consultants, our job should be to highlight weak spots in writing, explain why they are weak spots, and then the writer has to use that information to initiate a dialogue with the consultant about how to strengthen those areas. That style of tutoring would both engage the student more, give them more control of their writing, and increase their satisfaction with the session since they feel like they "fixed" specific points in their paper.

We should be WATCHing all writers, not just ESL writers.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

ESL Consultations

Interesting fact: Research has shown that the primary motivation behind medical malpractice lawsuits is not a doctor's negligence, but their relationships with their patients. A patient is more likely to sue a doctor they have a cool or neutral relationship with who was not grossly negligent than a cheery and personable doctor who made a more negligent mistake. When avoiding malpractice lawsuits then, the most important thing for doctors is not how well they practice medicine and treat their patients, but how they make their patients feel.

Similarly, the more I read about writing consulting and the more experience I gain, the less I think that a consultant's mastery of language is the most helpful asset for leading effective consulting sessions. You can be the most brilliant writer at a university, but if you can't impart that knowledge to those you are trying to help, you aren't doing a good job. On the other hand, if you are a decent writer with a few good tips that you can communicate clearly, you can help someone much more than the linguistic pro. Surely a writing consultant should be a strong writer with a higher than average writing fluency, but it's perfectly fine for them to admit their own weaknesses and utilize outside sources like writer's web to supplement their own knowledge.

While the tutee is interested in the package of knowledge (and the package is what motivated a professor to recommend me for this class), how the package is delivered seems most paramount. This is compounded for non-traditional students, especially ESL students, who already are more likely to struggle to communicate clearly with you. To help improve communication, The Bedford Guide for Writing Tutors includes 10 really helpful tips from pages 67 to 69 that include making sure you can phrase things in multiple ways, avoiding bizarre english idioms, and helping the writer to feel at ease. All of these concerns stem from a desire to make ESL students comfortable. As Harris points out in "Cultural Conflicts in the Writing Center, ESL students "need sympathy and understanding when they ask what they perceive to be dumb questions or when they make silly mistakes that native speakers never will" (214).

But how do you accommodate a special type of communication while still achieving your goal (making better writers) when you're so used to your usual way of doing things? After helping my roommate (an ESL student) and watching the videos on ESL tutorials, I'd venture to propose the following overarching guidelines for consulting ESL students.

Allow them to speak. When you are first introduced, go out of your way to show interest in whatever they want to talk about. Don't force a topic on them. Maybe bring a more broad topic up like where they are from, what their native language is, what their academic interests are, and see where they take it. Getting them to do some interpersonal talking will improve your chances of getting verbal feedback during the actual consultation.

Be directive. ESL students can learn more from directive tutoring than we would expect of other students. While this may be a generalization, I think it's a true one and not something we should ignore if we want to help each student as best as we can. Though in this situation, a problem with directive commentary is that it can lead to the consultant doing a lot of the talking. Try bringing up a specific point, pointing to the area of concern, look up at the writer, and listen attentively as they respond. This gets them to interact with you and the text, and hopefully in a way that is comfortable for them if you introduce yourself to them and converse with them politely and happily.

By providing concise directive commentary and then allowing the ESL student to react in a comfortable environment, I'm convinced that they're going to get much more out of a session than they would if they were treated as American students with primary fluency in English. Remember that sometimes less is more, and that reassuring smiles are more important than commas (or medical treatment, for that matter).

Monday, March 29, 2010

The Age Factor

Age bestows authority. Or at least, that's how a lot of children are taught to think. I can speak from personal experience when I say that telling significantly older people what to do is incredibly awkward. Imagine running a charity to get poor children Christmas presents and trying to hint to a 60 year old coarse-sounding woman that she is being lazy and needs to stop chatting and work, otherwise dozens of children won't have a gift on Christmas morning.

As I've tried to highlight in past blog posts, there is a lot more going on in a consultation than the writing itself. A successful consultation is much more dependent on communication between the writer and consultant than what's on the page. One complicating factor in the writer-tutor interpersonal dynamic is age.

As Gardner points out in "Writing center ethics and 'non-traditional' students" some of the standard ethical positions adopted by writing consultants are thrown into question. "Should I handle (their) request differently because of (their) profile and because, quite honestly, I take her 'I don't have time' a lot more seriously than I ever took it from those 'traditional' students" (7). Due to the other "real-world" demands placed on continuing studies and adult students, should we adjust how we consult?

This question needs to be addressed in two ways. First, the ethics. Do I give more directive consulting to help them use their time most efficiently? Do I go over more grammatical errors than I would with a traditional student? Do I "give" them more answers than would be appropriate with a traditional student? Second, the social dynamic. How do I tell them about their errors? How do I justify my role as consultant over someone more than twice my age? How can I be helpful?

To the first point: I think we as consultants need to shift our focus, not our ethics, when consulting non-traditional students. We don't have to enter the ethical gray zone, we just need to adjust our approach. There's nothing wrong about giving more directive assistance if the tutee is under time pressures, so long as you don't write their papers for them, give away answers, or undermine the opportunity to make them better writers. Given the time period that most of these students were educated as children, directive consulting may even be more effective in improving their overall writing competency. These students often prefer more direct answers, but they also can appreciate and implement the underlying ideas in them.

To the second point: I think the best thing you can do is remember that non-traditional students are still students, and still people. I feel that trying to come across as overly professional and intelligent will be counter-productive since the student will either be turned off by your behavior or if you were to make a mistake the student would seriously doubt your credibility. Of course, be sure that you act as professionally as you would with any other student, but I would think that they would like to be treated kindly too. Throw in some harmless humor or engage in a brief conversation before the consultation, make sure your points are directive and help the writer achieve their goal, and these students will get just as much out of a consultation as any other student... and probably more.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

My Own Two Feet

My first consultation was an interesting experience. I wasn’t shadowing a veteran consultant, I wasn’t consulting a fake paper, and the paper wasn’t written by a student who graduated a decade ago. For the first time, I was entirely on my own and had to immediately adjust to the fluid dynamic of the consultation. While frightening, the consultation proved to be a valuable lesson that forced me to extract knowledge from myself and apply it as best as possible.

I was surprised when I realized that one of the first decisions I had to make was where to take the student. I would normally not have thought about it too hard, except I wanted to ensure that whatever location we went to would foster the type of positive consultation I sought. It is important to be seated in a way that allows for your body language to convey yourself as an ally and not an authoritative figure (Ryan and Zimmerelli 18).

Once we settled into a computer lab with both of us sitting next to each other, I asked for the assignment sheet again. I placed it in front of us, and went through the assignment’s key words to ensure that we had a mutual understanding about the direction her paper needed to take. By clarifying the scope of the paper through an examination of the prompt, we focused the paper in a way that will make the professor happier and the student’s job easier (Kendall 1). This particular prompt required knowledge of two short stories that the writer had attached for me to read. Thankfully I took the time to read both of them, because otherwise I know that my commentary would not have been very helpful. A lot of my suggestions were in response to particular points in the story, and so I felt rewarded for putting in the extra time. I realized that in the future I really ought to continue that habit both for the student’s benefit and to boost my own confidence in the subject material so that I’m more comfortable during the session.

After we finished with the assignment sheet, I took out the student’s paper. I wrote my commentary restrictively but purposefully, and I figured that if the consultation would be most effective if I stuck to my points of commentary, and her thesis, and then ask if there was anything else she wanted to talk about. Luckily, it was a good paper, which made restrictive commentary much easier for red-pen happy hand. At first I felt awkward moving through the areas of concern, I felt like I was preaching and she was just listening and I couldn’t be sure if she agreed, disagreed, or was even processing what I was saying. By the third point, I made sure that after I went over an area of concern I specifically asked her for her thoughts. Once I started doing that, the student openly discussed where she agreed with me, where she didn’t, and in either case what her reasoning was for doing whatever she did. This made the session so much more productive and she was able to understand more clearly what I was saying while I could put myself into her perspective more.

At this time, the issue became how much do I assert my initial perspective onto her? Once she began explaining her points of view on her writing, I wanted to let her maintain control of her paper, but I genuinely believe that she would benefit from taking my advice more seriously. As Shamoon and Burns note in “A Critique of Pure Tutoring”, many students in writing across-the-curriculum programs actually find directive tutoring sessions to be more helpful and increase their potential as writers (174). In this case, however, I trusted the student’s abilities as a writer enough where I felt comfortable having her process my feedback and maintain more control over what revisions she’ll make. I didn’t have to mull over how minimalistic to be, because the limited number of concerns made it so that I didn’t have to choose which ones took priority.

The last shift in my consultation approach took place as I realized that the pattern of dialogue was not as fruitful as it could be. I would explain my perspective, the writer would explain hers, and we would share a kind of mutual nod, and then move on to the next point. Clearly, this wasn’t giving the student as much control of the consultation as I wanted to. For my last few areas of concern, I would just point to the page, have her review what I wrote, and then wait for her response to it without me framing the question first. Her responses became much more clear and she would even go so far as to ask me questions instead of vice versa, which was refreshing for a nervous tutor. It showed that she was really vested into the session, appreciated my points, and was willing to engage them.

I actually got the idea from when I was consulted by a different tutor. I noticed that I started doing a lot of the talking when my tutor just pointed and looked up, and so incorporated that technique into my consultation strategy. When I was consulted, I also noticed how responsive I was to the tutor’s tone, word choice, and body language. This made me much more careful in how I presented myself to my tutee (to a borderline paranoid level) but I definitely noticed that I was able to evoke more involved responses from her that required higher level thinking and reflection.

Afterwards I asked if she had any other questions that I had not addressed. She replied that she didn’t, that I had gone over everything she was thinking over and then some. As we were walking out of the room, as friends, I nervously whispered, “Was that helpful? Do you think that went okay?” She smiled and responded, “Absolutely. You’re a natural.” I feel much better having gotten positive feedback from my first consultation on my own, but hope that I can learn from this experience to improve myself when dealing with students submitting papers that are less fluid than this one.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Writing Audience

You've proofread. You've recited in front of a mirror. You've practiced your pace. You've incorporated hand gestures and body language. You know the speech. You know your material. You have done everything possible to present a compelling speech. You approach the podium, look out at the audience, and begin. But this is not going how you expected. You're making mistakes, you're awkward, you're fumbling, you're frozen.

Most of us can think of a time when something very similar to this story happened to us. If formal presentations, whether they be a speech or a paper, are supposed to based on how well prepared you are and how well you can discuss the subject, why do we freeze at the podium? Why do we freeze at the keyboard?

Writing Centers and Writing Consultants spend a lot of time exploring how to make better writers, but it seems that there are more avenues to that goal than examining the words themselves. A student may be a perfectly capable writer when writing a private message to a friend, but not when they have to turn in a paper. Another student may write a brilliant letter for a scholarship application, but write poorly when they have to email their parents.

In casual conversation, people rarely "freeze". There is a fluid dynamic that allows communication to continue rather effortlessly (aside from intensely awkward situations). As Mr. Carleton noted in class today, once these words are written on paper or recorded on a tape, a layer of permanence is attached to them. Your words can be presented without you being there. Your words can be received by audiences you don't know, audiences you're comfortable with, audiences you're uncomfortable with.

Writing Consultants need to be aware of the context that a writing sample is done under. Maybe the student is nervous writing for a strict academic professor and so attempts to use language or styles that they do not like or cannot adequately employ. Maybe the student is on friendly terms with their professor and are tempted to use overly casual language in an analytic paper. In whichever direction the issue presents itself, the relationship between the writer and anticipated audience can have far reaching consequences on the writing.

To help a student become a better writer, we must keep in mind the other factors that contribute to sophisticated writing, and psychological or social pressures imposed by the presence of an audience are one of those key factors.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The Hazards of Hats

People simplify too much. People are prone to underestimate the complexity of seemingly straightforward endeavors, tasks, or occupations. On college campuses this manifests itself through professors assigning too much work for students to enjoy the material, students overcommitting themselves to extracurriculars, or over-programming and regimenting student schedules.

Like most professions, writing consulting is not as one-dimensional as it may seem. Sure, the title "Writing Consultant" itself gives you a clear idea of what that person's job is, but titles can be misleading. For instance, even though a math teacher's job is to teach math, he also has a responsibility to act as a mentor, encourage positive behaviors, and engage his students outside of class through activities or clubs. Comparably, a good writing consultant adopts a whole host of roles associated with their actual "job".

In the third chapter of The Bedford Guide to Writing Tutors by Leigh Ryan and Lisa Zimmerelli the other types of roles that writing consultants fulfill are discussed. They include the ally, the coach, the commentator, the collaborator, the writing "expert", the learner and the counselor. While all of these different "hats" that consultants can put on sound like positive amplifications of the impact a good writing consultant can have on writers, I would like to throw out some cautionary measures before we get too involved in this hat dance.

Ally - A good writing consultant wants to win over their tutee, but the process to achieving a trusting relationship can be hazardous. Consultants need to be careful to avoid badmouthing professors or criticizing grading policies. The problem with making allies is you can make enemies.

Coach - Sometimes you want your player to win so bad, you cheat. Consultants who want their tutees to do well may be tempted to write portions of the paper for them or suggest too much. The writing has to remain the writers.

The Commentator - When trying to get a writer to see the broader context of the writing process, consultants need to make sure they don't impose their process on others. If it works for the consultant, great, but tutees need to have enough space and constructive support to forge their own process, even if it differs from their tutor's.

The Collaborator - Consultants need to know when it is appropriate to make suggestions and when it isn't. Suggestions should be provocative, not declarative. If a writer is using the same phrase too many times, ask if they can come up with synonyms. If not, suggest one, and leave it at that.

The Writing "Expert"- Consultants want to be professional. They want to know what they're talking about. But no one's perfect, and consultants need to be able to swallow their pride and look up grammatical technicalities and use the writer's web tool so that they don't end up making their tutee's papers worse rather than better.

The Learner - Just as tutee's can plagiarize from their consultants, consultants may "learn" a thing or two from their tutees. Consultants need to be able to distinguish between building others with others versus thoughtlessly adopting them.

The Counselor - Writing consultants who know their tutees well may be tempted to take too large of a role themselves. Consultants need to recognize when they are not in their area of expertise, and contact the appropriate person to deal with troublesome situations.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

A Productive Discourse

The red pen. What started off as an innocent means of written commentary now symbolizes everything wrong with the direction of most academic commentary. The cowering student humbly submits the pieces of paper that capture so many hours of hard work so that the red pen demigod may chew it up and spit back out on the student's crushed, and now moist, face.

I've already written about why the way educator's conduct their commentary is so important to the process in terms of building a positive and trusting relationship, and it is becoming more and more accepted that professors' commentary needs to move away from the perspective of strict critic to achieve this goal. But what about the initial objective? At a certain point, teacher commentary may become as ineffectual as friends' commentary may be, they both want to dance around the issues to establish or maintain a personal base with someone.

While overly directive commentary is a clear mistake, professors and consultants should be wary about becoming too facilitative. Facilitative commentary assumes that the writer always has the potential to write perfectly. The advisor hopes that by asking the right types of questions, the writer will be able to figure out what to do. Unfortunately, the students who need the help of the writing center most will not be able to fully capitalize on that type of discussion.

Of course, the consultant should never give specific new ideas to the writer, but at least by leading the writer into a certain train of thought they have a better chance of arriving at a conclusion that is both originally their own and better informed. I observed a writing consultant who enacted the following tactic: She would focus on a specific point in the text, ask the writer to reread it, neutrally vocalize some issues, and ask the writer to collaborate on how to improve that section.

The key part was that when the writing consultant referred to an issue, the issue was always a consequence, not the root. For instance, she would highlight a passage that felt awkward because of a specific grammatical issue but not point out the grammatical issue itself. This forced the writer to find her own mistake so that the combination of directive and facilitative commentary that the consultant adopted allowed for both the writer and the writing to improve. I was very impressed.

Professors and writing consultants need to mirror this type of smart balance in the way they comment on papers to foster win-win situations: Better papers and better students.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Where to Start

It's an issue that every writer has to address. The first issue, actually. Where to start.

It seems like the simplest question. If your paper prompt is about health care policy, you write about health care policy. If your paper prompt is about Aristotle's ethics, you write about Aristotle's ethics. Easy, right?

Well,

Is it a research paper? Is it an opinion paper? Is it an analytic paper? Are you supposed to incorporate outside sources or limit yourself to the text? Is it a short paper? A long paper? Are you supposed to choose a specific topic within the realm of health care policy or Aristotle's ethics? Are you supposed to address one entire text? All the texts? What do you know about the topic? What do you need to know about the topic?

Uh...

What was a clear assignment is now rather mirky. Luckily, The Bedford Guide for Writing Tutors suggests a few possible ways to clarify a paper subject and select a solid topic. They include brainstorming/listing, freewriting, webbing, and outlining.

Of these, I've personally found webbing to be the most helpful. Webbing allows you to see all of your ideas, which ideas link, and how they proceed from each other. This method naturally allows you to see all the paths your essay could take, and gives the writer a network of mini-outlines to work from. One idea might seem really appealing, but if you realize you can't expand that part of the web very far, it might not make a great topic for a longer paper. On the other hand, if you can develop a few concise branches off of one web, you may have just found focus points for your thesis.

The danger is any type of early planning is that writers get caught up in an interesting idea and may diverge from the intention of the prompt. Pre-writing bestows no benefit if the writer is clearly organizing a paper that the professor doesn't want.

Most writers will dismiss prewriting as an elementary exercise. They will claim they don't need to pre write. That they have a good idea of their topic and how their paper will go. They'll say it's a waste of time.

Bull. Shit.

Pre-writing is probably THE most time-effective measure a writer can take. A decent webbing pre-write can take somewhere between 10-20 minutes to lay out, but the clarity of ideas the writer obtains can cut their essay writing time in half.

Any journey starts with a step, and the first step is always critical. Make sure you start your writing on the right foot, and take the time to pre-write.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Error Revisited

After reading Kendall's "The Assignment Sheet Mystery" and Bartholomae's "The Study of Error", I became concerned that I could have handled my review of a friend's paper (the subject of my last post) better than I did. Given the apparently tight relationship between speaking and writing, I decided to revisit the paper with my friend, just so test out a few things.

He was a little apprehensive. He had already turned his paper in and wasn't seeking general English lessons, but I told him it would help me for a class and he submitted. I highlighted some of the most grammatically hazardous passages in his paper, and asked them to read them aloud. He read the first one, and looked up towards me. I had this a facial expression that screamed, "Do you hear that? You get it now, right?" But his face was blank. I asked if he heard anything wrong with the last sentence he had read, and he responded "No".

I repeated the exercise for all of the highlighted passages. Of the nine passages I highlighted, he thought that seven of them sounded perfectly fine, and that two of them could be phrased better, but that "I chose to phrase the sentence like I did. I could change it, but I don't see the point." This put an interesting spin on the role of "error analysis" that Bartholomae discusses.

I was trying to extract what he was doing correct: The quotes were relevant to his argument, his ideas adequately responded to the assignment sheet, and he supported his argument with sources. He clearly understood the paper topic and the aim of the paper. His ideas simply were not translating over well from Chinese to English and verbal communication wasn't getting him to notice it. This wasn't an error of speech to text, but language to language.

The two most consistent errors I found were unnecessary extra words like "multiple many" or "because since", and problems with tense and number such as "The crusaders was fought" or "People liking be knighted". I'm not a grammar scholar, but I explained the problems with both of these errors to him. He said he understood the examples I explained to him, but when I asked him to correct a different sentence, his correction maintained the issue. The influence that the structure of his primary language plays still plagues the clarity of his writing, however, I hope that at least by making him aware of two of his most consistent errors he'll begin to start catching himself in future papers and that I'll learn how to better explain his English grammatical errors to him later.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Writers and Writing

While doing some reading in my dorm room last night, I was asked a question that should not have surprised me the way it did. It was a question that lots of my friends ask me, and I never hesitate a response like I did this time.

"Can you read my paper?"

There were two major factors contributing to my shocked response. 1) This is the first time I've been asked this question since the start of my Writing Composition Theory and Pedagogy class. 2) The question came from an international student from China.

I had never read an international student's paper before, but since he seemed to get relatively good grades, I figured his English writing must be sophisticated. I was... well... wrong. There were grammatical or spelling errors in every single sentence. I could get the gist of some of his sentences, but the meaning of others were lost. My first impulse was to red-pen the entire page, to critique and adjust every sentence into "proper" English.

I knew, however, that I needed to restrain myself. As Stephen North points out, writing consultants do the most good by helping make better writers, not better writing. And so I ignored the vast majority of grammatical mistakes and focused more on points of organization, style, evidence, and arguments. These types of focus points get writers to think about the way they use their language and how they can do it better in the future instead of mindlessly accepting the authority of your red-pen grammar corrections.

I eagerly await to see if my friend's feedback from his professor improves. As he finished his revisions, he commented how "in China, our teachers didn't care much about organization or evidence or quotes. Most of our writing was creative, and we were expected to use language to be creative, but America seems to expect much more structure."

And maybe that's why we have certain expectations of peer editing in the first place. We are taught to believe that structure and "proper" English are the most important aspects of writing and so we start with those and later build up to advanced writing styles, organization, and synthesis. My friend suggests that China might teach language in the opposite direction, and it might work better (or at least make writing consultants' jobs easier).

Monday, January 25, 2010

Building Blocks

It was finished. At six years old I had finally built my own castle using all of my cardboard building blocks. I excitedly ran off to beckon mom and show her - in fact, I ran off so ambitiously that on my way out of the castle I kicked out the corner block and stumbled down onto the abrasive carpet as my castle fell on top of me.

But castles aren't the only things that crumble without a proper foundation.

People write about certain subjects, but many students seem to ignore the implications that their subject has on their writing, or worse, don't even understand their subject to begin with. High school education promotes a zealous commitment to structure in writing. The infamous five paragraph essay is the pinnacle of this commitment. The organization of papers in high school is for organization's sake, and does not accurately amplify or even reflect the content of the paper.

Therefore writing consultants should make their first priority to ensure that the writer comprehends her subject. Luckily, many college essay prompts direct the student to a specific passage or area of text that the writing consultant can examine with the student. Of course, the consultant needs to be careful that they do not find their own understanding of the text and simply hand it over to the writer. The consultant should be asking the types of questions that will allow for the writer to come to their own well informed interpretation of the text.

Once the consultant is assured that the writer understands her subject, the writing process becomes much more interesting and clear. Three body paragraphs previously full of "academic bullshit" are reworked into a unique and engaging structure that adjusts to the content of the paper while presenting more insights into the assignment.

Looking at the specific text involved in the assignment with the student is a relatively short process with long reaching benefits. This type of consulting isn't even truly directed at the immediate paper (though of course the student appreciates that it does), but rather teaches the student how to work through all types of assignments.

Comprehending subjects, or how to turn a pile of crumbled cardboard bricks into an A+ castle.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

College Grades: We're not just whining

Can you remember a time you thought that you were about to fail at some task, but triumphed? Conversely, recall a time you felt utterly confident just to find yourself helplessly defeated. The former is an inspirational as the latter is vicious, yet universities all over the country perpetually set their students up for failure.

There is a whole host of differences between high school and college level academics: scheduling, time management, amount of work, difficulty of work, different relationships with educators, and that collegiate work in far more academic fields than were available in high school. As students transition from high school to college, they realize that a new set of expectations will gauge their progress. They expect assignments to be more difficult. They expect the course material to be more difficult. They also expect that they will succeed in classes where they word hard and understand that material. Unfortunately this last expectation, which is as fair as the others, is often violated.

It was my first semester at college. I had registered for my courses and was eager to explore an academic field inaccessible to be during my high school tenure: Philosophy. I was taking Ancient Greek Philosophy, an introductory level course that is a required part of the philosophy major and is taught by a well liked professor. The readings were interesting, the class atmosphere was enjoyable, and I would work longer than I needed to in order to ensure I properly grasped the ideas. I thought, "This is going to be great".

It wasn't.

I received my worst grade in a course... ever. I didn't understand. I thoroughly read and interacted with all of the texts, thoughtfully participated in class discussion, and my peers came to me for help understanding the concepts. I conducted myself like a perfect student, and failed. On the other hand I scored high marks on my other three courses, all of which I spent significantly less time on and cared for less. I got A's on material I didn't understand and C's on material that I did.

My disappointment turned into anger - anger that boiled over into an uncharacteristic confrontation with my professor. Our discussion was frustrating and her answers unsatisfying, until she commented that "you aren't writing like a philosophy major". I was curious, and asked her to explain. She noted the lack of first person narrative and awkward organization of my argument as the central issues with my papers. Before this point, it hadn't occurred to me that I was allowed to write in first person or that paragraphs were allowed to be of drastically variable sizes and constructions. Third person writing and cookie-cutter three point, five paragraph essays were staples of my high school education, and no one ever bothered to fill me in on what I was missing: writing varies tremendously by discipline.

Given that most college level disciplines were not taught in high school (philosophy included) it seems unfair to hold undergraduates to standards they couldn't possibly know yet. Addressing these disparities by offering courses or lessons in specifically intra-disciplinary writing would dramatically reduce misunderstandings between professors and students, while enhancing the quality of students' work.

Until our academic institutions not only recognize but also act on the importance of discipline specific writing, students will both continue to receive grades that don't reflect their level of comprehension and continue to resent their professors' grading.