If I had to sit down and honestly create a teaching “philosophy,” I’m not sure I would be comfortable with dropping the names of famous composition theorists or pedagogical barnstormers. Instead, I feel content to say that I teach by example. There have been several pedagogical philosphies that have informed my pedagogy; additionally, there have been several teachers that have influences my approach to teaching, but the one thing that they all have in common is a passion for their expertise. They do not compromise their principles, yet they are very willing to lend an ear to any ideas presented before them. For me, that’s what teaching is about: we cannot be afraid to be students as well as educators.
First and foremost, I feel our primary role as educators is to teach and encourage critical analysis skills. We, as students, cannot move beyond what we already know if we are not willing to challenge our modes of thinking and the modes of thinking of those around us. I wish to prevent stale thought and encourage students to experiment with new ideas, to not be afraid to take risks with their education.
I truly believe in a democratic classroom where all voices are equally valued, despite what may appear “right” or “wrong.” It is our responsibility, as students and teachers, to give respect to others as well as to command it. However, respect cannot be commanded until it is first accorded to others. Without respect, the free exchange of ideas (the core of a responsible education) cannot take place. I like my classroom to be relaxed and stress free.
As a composition teacher, apart from oiling the cogs of critical thought, I encourage students to produce the best writing of which they are capable, and I see myself more as a facilitator of the discovery of knowledge—as well as actively engaging in acquiring knowledge, myself. I believe that the efficacy of ideas is debatable, and well written expressions of thought win the debate. Simply put, once effective communication is established, at that point can we begin to discuss rationality and the philosophies of learning.
The professor that has influenced me the most is Arthur Saltzman, who I consider my undergraduate mentor and friend. From him, I have learned that once one has the courage to challenge one’s self and one’s beliefs, then can that person be prepared to embark on writing well. I suppose that whatever benefits the students will, in turn, eventually benefit us all—a trickle-down or pay-it-forward philosophy of education.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Writing What We Teach
In this assignment, I decided to attempt a different approach then how I normally write my papers, because, let's face it, I don't write in "snapshots." I gather all of my information, make myself very familiar with the material, and sit and write the paper all the way through while surrounded by all of my material for reference. When I am done, I go back and edit for grammar and clarity. So basically, I am revising my paper as I write it, looking back on what I wrote from time to time to make sure it follows a clear line of argumentation. The closest way I could write in "snapshots" was to write something general about the piece that I read and stop. Then I let it rest for a while and reread the article--"Peace Isn't Possible in Evil's Face" by Elie Wiesel, by the way.
Once, I was more familiar with Wiesel's article, I felt better equipped to write an analysis. So I reread what I had originally wrote, and started to decide whether I still felt the same. One of the things that I noticed when I reread the article was that most of what Wiesel had written hinged upon a couple of enthymemes. So I decided to take a rhetorical analysis approach implementing Aristotle's trivium as points of analysis. I feel very comfortable analyzing rhetorical strategies in writing, and I feel that my emphasis of study affords me this level of comfortability. I also have been trying to incorporate rhetorical theory in my teaching, because I feel that it is essential to learning to writing well. So, I figured that analyzing this article using such principles was a way to kill two birds with one stone.
As it turns out, the next draft ended up being quite different. Not only had I seen the construction of the article differently than my initial reading, but I was taking a different approach. I think this is an important lesson to consider while teaching revision. Sometimes, revision doesn't mean that we add to or subtract from our first drafts but that we almost throw out what we had wrote in favor of something "better." Sometimes, first drafts are garbage drafts, and that's OK.
I also included bulleted lists of the different premises of each enthymeme, but in the end, I decided that it was better to put them in prose form. I had to adjust my extended quotes to be indented one inch instead of one-half an inch...oops. And here is the funny part: for some reason, I assumed that Elie was a woman's name. As it turns out, I was wrong. Go figure. So all of my she's and her's should be he's and his's.
Overall, I think it may be beneficial to write this draft and present it to my students as a way of doing this assignment, but I taught the textual analysis as my first assignment of the semester. I think I may try this in the future, but I'm not sure how effective it would be. I've given my students models of "correct" ways to write a paper before, and some still did not get it. I'm not sure that my version would be much different. Even in hindsight of writing this paper and seeing how it would help, I think I could have done just an effective job with someone else's draft. This assignment did, however, get me thinking more about the tools in my pedagogical bag.
Once, I was more familiar with Wiesel's article, I felt better equipped to write an analysis. So I reread what I had originally wrote, and started to decide whether I still felt the same. One of the things that I noticed when I reread the article was that most of what Wiesel had written hinged upon a couple of enthymemes. So I decided to take a rhetorical analysis approach implementing Aristotle's trivium as points of analysis. I feel very comfortable analyzing rhetorical strategies in writing, and I feel that my emphasis of study affords me this level of comfortability. I also have been trying to incorporate rhetorical theory in my teaching, because I feel that it is essential to learning to writing well. So, I figured that analyzing this article using such principles was a way to kill two birds with one stone.
As it turns out, the next draft ended up being quite different. Not only had I seen the construction of the article differently than my initial reading, but I was taking a different approach. I think this is an important lesson to consider while teaching revision. Sometimes, revision doesn't mean that we add to or subtract from our first drafts but that we almost throw out what we had wrote in favor of something "better." Sometimes, first drafts are garbage drafts, and that's OK.
I also included bulleted lists of the different premises of each enthymeme, but in the end, I decided that it was better to put them in prose form. I had to adjust my extended quotes to be indented one inch instead of one-half an inch...oops. And here is the funny part: for some reason, I assumed that Elie was a woman's name. As it turns out, I was wrong. Go figure. So all of my she's and her's should be he's and his's.
Overall, I think it may be beneficial to write this draft and present it to my students as a way of doing this assignment, but I taught the textual analysis as my first assignment of the semester. I think I may try this in the future, but I'm not sure how effective it would be. I've given my students models of "correct" ways to write a paper before, and some still did not get it. I'm not sure that my version would be much different. Even in hindsight of writing this paper and seeing how it would help, I think I could have done just an effective job with someone else's draft. This assignment did, however, get me thinking more about the tools in my pedagogical bag.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
The Case of the Missing Drafts
I have typically taken a firm position on following the instructions that are prescribed for an assignment, explaining to my students that if they can't follow small, simple details here in school, how they expect an employer to keep them on at the company if they showed the same inattention to detail at work. Here, I emphasized is where you need to get it right so that when you journey into the workforce, you will be that much more impressive to your superiors than those in the company who can't seem to get anything right. But after much insistance over long period of constant reminders (multiple reminders for each assignment, I might add), they still could not get everything right. Well, most of them couldn't. There was a majority who could. I tried insituting such penalties as: 10% off per day late (incomplete assignment counts as being late). No matter how many times I reminded all of them days in advance of the paper being due, they would still forget. So I figured that I would ease up on them a little and see what would happen. Really, there was no change. So I concluded that freshmen are going to be freshmen: they won't always get things right, no matter how much you remind them. So, in the case that was presented for our blog post for this week, I would do what I do now. I hold conferences with each student for every major paper the day before peer review to make sure they understand everything expected of them for the paper. I allow peer review to help them catch the lower order concerns and then they turn in the final draft after that. This formula has worked better for me this semester. If I requires other drafts and they forget them on the day of the draft, I just tell them to make sure they turn it in to me before the end of the day when I go home. To tell the truth, I don't start grading them on the day that take them up. So, it really doesn't matter much to me if they forget to add something the day the final draft is due. 90% of them get everything done on time. The others aren't always the same people for every paper, so it's just human error and nothing more. And that I can deal with.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
I Am the Joe Dimaggio of Conferencing (Or Rather, the Cal Ripken)
I have found that holding individual conferences concerning the major papers is something that suits me. It's easier to interact on a one-on-one level with each student than to lecture to the room. I'm not saying that I think that I can't do the latter. I just think the former is easier for me. What I find great about conferencing is that I can address the things that get lost to the students in the lecture setting. For those in the office that have seen me work, I can go for quite a long time throughout the day, repeating the same bits of advice or addressing the multitude of concerns the students harbor, huh? The thing that I realize about this is that I find that I can connect to the students easier when I have their undivided attention. I think it is much easier for them to lose themselves to the crowd, as DeLillo would so aptly suggest. When the crowd is apprehensive and pensive, so are the individual students. Think about it: Their fear cripples them from responding to questions asked to the class at large because they don't want to "look stupid if they say something wrong." So, I determined that after the break, I would have a little sit down with both of my 110 classes to air out any concerns they may have and to explain to them my mission in teaching, my philosophies, and how I perceive their actions. I wanted to invite them to speak freely about their perceptions, as well, so that I may address them in front of everyone, alleviating those who scared to interact from their concerns and still getting my message across to everyone as a whole.
I began the class by bringing in a revised copy of the schedule and explaining why I made the changes that were made (basically, the four days my classes have missed due to inclement weather put me in a bind in terms of jamming in everything that I wanted to teach for the semester). I explained that I didn't want to be unfair to them to expect them to have to do so much work without the opportunity of adequate instruction, and I feel they received that message well. I explained one of the assignments that I wanted them to complete as a precursor to the position paper and their class "debate." Then I laid it on them. "Let's take this moment to kick back, relax, and discuss how the class has been operating thus far this semester," I told them. I even scooted my chair back and kicked my feet up on the desk. I figured that if I am asking them to get comfortable, I may as well do so. I opened up the discussion by addressing my perceptions of how they have viewed the class, the reasons why I felt they were so reluctant to participate, and then I invited them at any moment to confirm or deny anything that I was saying. Wanting the students to participate in the discussion and verbally opening the door to it (and opening the door to personal criticism on our behalf) are two different things. What I was trying to convey was that I was not wanting to focus on the things that I saw them doing "wrong" but the things that I saw myself doing wrong, as well.
Let me tell you, when I admitted to my own deficiencies and expectations in front of them, I saw head nods, smiles, students whispering to other students and reacting with smiles...you name it. I told them straight up that I saw them reacting to what I said in the way I just described it in this blog and that shows me two things: One, I have not been communicating to them my concerns in a proper fashion, and two, they have not been communicating to me the things that have troubled them. Once I revealed this to them, they were dumbfounded.
"Pretty trippy, huh? A class based upon learning to become better communicators in writing has not been communicating effectively enough with each other AND the teacher to learn," I added. "So where do we go from here?"
Of course, there was silence. So I continued, "Allow me the opportunity to share my teaching philosophies with you and reveal the reasons why I ask you to do the things we do in class. Allow me the opportunity to communicate with you what I expect you to get out of this class and why I expect it. Is that fair?"
They nodded their heads and some said, "Sure."
I'll summarize here to spare you the boring details, but basically, I explained to them that I mostly (not entirely) bought into the Social Constructivist school of thought and explained to that exactly what that was. When I mentioned the words, a lot of them looked lost; so, I knew I had to explain. But more importantly, I explained to them exactly why I believed this to be a good model for teaching writing. I explained them that I didn't want them to be a bunch of my clones running around in this world after the class was over, writing and regurgitating my view of the world--or even my viewpoint of anything in general. Instead, I only aimed to challenge them to think for themselves, to not accept every single thing that they encounter as truth--and this didn't mean that they had to stop believing whatever they currently believed. Further, I explained that my main goal for them was to be better communicators in writing, but that they had to learn how to think about what they trying to communicate before they attempted to do so.
Inherently, I feel that this is the first step to being a better writer, that one must be "mindful" (to steal a word from Ben's repertoire) of their thoughts before they attempt to convey them. After all, as writers, aren't we attempting to connect with other humans beings first and then convey our message second. How can you ever communicate with someone if you don't first have their attention? This was one of the reasons why my class and I were unable to accomplish our goals. I explained to them, this is what I am doing now: Getting their attention. Continuing the lecture, I told them that once you can get your readers attention, then you must maintain it. And this is where clarity, concision, being mindful of your message and you the way your audience will receive it all come into play. This is where the connection is established and this is what you want to work at improving. I connected this to Stauss's article published in the Standard about how women need not go to school and should only marry rich, blah blah blah. Some of you may have already read this from the quote board. The longest discussion that we've had all semester followed. I must admit, I was very happy. Finally, we had connected and I'm hopeful for the rest of the semester, although part of me maintains skepticism (and I'm trying to squash that part).
So, I've done nothing but complain this whole semester about things that have gone wrong. Here's my chance to show something that went right and to dispel any assumptions that I am grouchy or tough-minded. I just want the best for my students, and to me, that means providing them with the tools to think and express themselves coherently. In the words of the greatest modern day philosopher, really all I want to ask is: "Can't we all just get along?"
I began the class by bringing in a revised copy of the schedule and explaining why I made the changes that were made (basically, the four days my classes have missed due to inclement weather put me in a bind in terms of jamming in everything that I wanted to teach for the semester). I explained that I didn't want to be unfair to them to expect them to have to do so much work without the opportunity of adequate instruction, and I feel they received that message well. I explained one of the assignments that I wanted them to complete as a precursor to the position paper and their class "debate." Then I laid it on them. "Let's take this moment to kick back, relax, and discuss how the class has been operating thus far this semester," I told them. I even scooted my chair back and kicked my feet up on the desk. I figured that if I am asking them to get comfortable, I may as well do so. I opened up the discussion by addressing my perceptions of how they have viewed the class, the reasons why I felt they were so reluctant to participate, and then I invited them at any moment to confirm or deny anything that I was saying. Wanting the students to participate in the discussion and verbally opening the door to it (and opening the door to personal criticism on our behalf) are two different things. What I was trying to convey was that I was not wanting to focus on the things that I saw them doing "wrong" but the things that I saw myself doing wrong, as well.
Let me tell you, when I admitted to my own deficiencies and expectations in front of them, I saw head nods, smiles, students whispering to other students and reacting with smiles...you name it. I told them straight up that I saw them reacting to what I said in the way I just described it in this blog and that shows me two things: One, I have not been communicating to them my concerns in a proper fashion, and two, they have not been communicating to me the things that have troubled them. Once I revealed this to them, they were dumbfounded.
"Pretty trippy, huh? A class based upon learning to become better communicators in writing has not been communicating effectively enough with each other AND the teacher to learn," I added. "So where do we go from here?"
Of course, there was silence. So I continued, "Allow me the opportunity to share my teaching philosophies with you and reveal the reasons why I ask you to do the things we do in class. Allow me the opportunity to communicate with you what I expect you to get out of this class and why I expect it. Is that fair?"
They nodded their heads and some said, "Sure."
I'll summarize here to spare you the boring details, but basically, I explained to them that I mostly (not entirely) bought into the Social Constructivist school of thought and explained to that exactly what that was. When I mentioned the words, a lot of them looked lost; so, I knew I had to explain. But more importantly, I explained to them exactly why I believed this to be a good model for teaching writing. I explained them that I didn't want them to be a bunch of my clones running around in this world after the class was over, writing and regurgitating my view of the world--or even my viewpoint of anything in general. Instead, I only aimed to challenge them to think for themselves, to not accept every single thing that they encounter as truth--and this didn't mean that they had to stop believing whatever they currently believed. Further, I explained that my main goal for them was to be better communicators in writing, but that they had to learn how to think about what they trying to communicate before they attempted to do so.
Inherently, I feel that this is the first step to being a better writer, that one must be "mindful" (to steal a word from Ben's repertoire) of their thoughts before they attempt to convey them. After all, as writers, aren't we attempting to connect with other humans beings first and then convey our message second. How can you ever communicate with someone if you don't first have their attention? This was one of the reasons why my class and I were unable to accomplish our goals. I explained to them, this is what I am doing now: Getting their attention. Continuing the lecture, I told them that once you can get your readers attention, then you must maintain it. And this is where clarity, concision, being mindful of your message and you the way your audience will receive it all come into play. This is where the connection is established and this is what you want to work at improving. I connected this to Stauss's article published in the Standard about how women need not go to school and should only marry rich, blah blah blah. Some of you may have already read this from the quote board. The longest discussion that we've had all semester followed. I must admit, I was very happy. Finally, we had connected and I'm hopeful for the rest of the semester, although part of me maintains skepticism (and I'm trying to squash that part).
So, I've done nothing but complain this whole semester about things that have gone wrong. Here's my chance to show something that went right and to dispel any assumptions that I am grouchy or tough-minded. I just want the best for my students, and to me, that means providing them with the tools to think and express themselves coherently. In the words of the greatest modern day philosopher, really all I want to ask is: "Can't we all just get along?"
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Pratt's Contact Zones
I've really been intrigued with Pratt's "Contact Zones" and figuring out how to apply this in my classroom. I think that one reason why it is such a shock for students to learn to think outside of the the comfort zone that they've built around themselves their entire lives is because they've never ventured outside of that comfort zone. They've never been challenged to even spread open a space in the blinds and look out "into the mystery." But how does one address this concern without creating a battle zone or allowing things to get out of hand? It's a very touchy endeavor indeed, one from which most people steer away for fear of creating a war zone in the classroom.
One of these very topics of interest is racism. Oooh, scary. To discuss racism sends a shiver up the spines of some people. Why? Do the students not have anything to add to this discussion? Are we afraid that they aren't mature enough or sensitive enough to deal with such an "adult" topic? What assumptions are we making about them that cause some of us to veer hard and heavy in any other direction when encountering the potential discussion about race? And further, what assumptions do we make about ourselves that we feel we can't handle this type of discussion?
Look. I've posted some stuff on this blog that sounded as if I was very irritated or very discouraged. Some of it was venting, some fishing for new ideas. But if there is anything that will get these students talking, and more importantly, thinking, it is this discussion. I may post some things in jest...to sort of test the waters or see if anyone even reads these things. You can't take everything I say seriously, it's no fun that way. But why not get serious for a second and discuss some issues that really mean something. Ok, you got me. I can't be all that serious. So what follows is half written in jest and half a discussion that begs for response. Nobody may respond, but let's proceed anyway, shall we?
Today, I showed Dave Chappelle's interview on Inside the Actor's Studio. For those of us that know his work, Chappelle's comedy comes from his fearless and clever willingness to push beyond racial boundaries and to force these issue into the public forum, for ridicule, for awareness, and for good, fun comedy. But he threw it all away, even a 50-million-dollar contract, for piece of mind. Is he crazy? 50 million dollars! There had to be some underlying reason for throwing away that kind of financial freedom. But isn't that the point...that there are other things to be concerned about in this world than money, things, financial security?
I showed the first 45 minutes of the show in class after briefly discussing the power that comedians have in terms of slyly conveying a message to their audience and cut it off for discussion. I proposed the same thing that I just wrote here about why he may have given it all up. Then I asked the question that, when asked, receives the same response as shotgun blast to the face: silence. Of course, there is that instant silence. And the first thing that we all think is: Great, here we go. Now I'm going to have to rephrase the question or just start talking until I can't stand hearing myself speak. They are refusing to take part in this. They are bored. They want to go home. I want to go home. And just when I started to open my mouth, one of them responded.
I have to admit. I got scared. I didn't know what to think. I mean...they talk? They can actually talk? I thought they were just machines that only responded to commands. You know, robots. Wait a minute, I told myself. Let's see where this talking thing takes us. This was strange, but I let the student continue.
"It's like he's saying money isn't everything," the student says.
Ok, so now she has just basically said the same thing that I said. Not necessarily original, but that's what robots do. They are programed to repeat things. Let's test it and see if it knows anything else.
"So, what do you mean by that? Is there something that he insinuates that would be better?" I replied.
"Yeah," she said. "He talks about missing time with his father, who was dying, so that he could go meet TV executives about his pilot. He lost time with his father that he would never be able to make up."
Is this really a machine, I thought. It seems to be doing something...I can't quite place it. I think that it's thinking. I don't know if I care for that. Machines thinking? Maybe it's not a machine after all. Maybe it's...human. Well, let's keep testing it with more question to find out what else it knows.
"So these TV guys didn't really care that his dad was sick. They were just interested in making another show so that they could make money. Is that what you are saying? That they only wanted to exploit his talents because he appealed to a certain market of people and could make them a bundle of money?" I further questioned her.
She got this look on her face. It was strange. It was like she was...I don't know...excited? Is that the right word? Can you use that word to describe robots? It's as if she had something else that she couldn't wait to add, some idea that she was eager to convey. Well, right away I grew suspicious.
This could be another machine trick. I've seen this before in movies. I'm not a sucker for the old "I've got an idea that I want to discuss" trick. I've seen machines pull this one before. Fool me once, you crazy devils...
I started to interupt her and she just talked over the top of me. This machine is pretty persistant, I thought. It wants something, but what?...But what?
I let her speak.
"Well, look at how they tried to change his pilot. They wanted to recast a character for a white woman to make the show more appealing to white America. And how about the fact that they offered him 50 million dollars but told him that he was going to have to change his show a little bit to get a wider variety audience to watch it. To me, they are just trying to take something that he made and make it more white," she said emphatically.
I think I'm beginning to like this machine, I thought. It says things and has reasons.
"More white!" I exclaimed. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
"Let me explain," she responded.
I got animated. "Oh no. I don't know if I care for that. You can't say things and then expect to be able to explain yourself. That's not how it works around here. How dare you presume that I would allow such things as not standing on blanket statements alone. How dare you assume that I allow things like substantiated argumentation. What kind of class do you think this is? You just think you can just waltz in here with your fancy thinking and your opinons that can be backed up with logical reasoning. Oh no, not in this class. We'll have none of that 'thinking for yourself' stuff around here. We're robots awaiting instruction."
Of course, I was kidding around and everyone laughed. They got me. Finally! I think the point was made and maybe even understood. It may even stick. Well, we'll see what Spring Break does for that. But, nonetheless, there was progress. By poking at her comfort zone, she responded and so did others. She explained herself and made her point. There were head knods and I could see some students privately confirming what she said to each other. Most people agreed. But before I had time to look for alternate views, class time had expired. Actually, we had gone over a couple of minutes. So I sent them away with a final rousing speech about challenging your own assumptions and not judging things by the way they look. I told them that this is what we can expect to get themselves into when they get back from the break. If Pratt has taught me anything, it's that I need to expose their contact zones a tad to get them to respond. Maybe, by revealing these contact zones, my students will find a commonality that they never knew existed. Of course, I'm beginning to sound a bit ideolistic, but hey, why not? At least it would make for good conversation.
One of these very topics of interest is racism. Oooh, scary. To discuss racism sends a shiver up the spines of some people. Why? Do the students not have anything to add to this discussion? Are we afraid that they aren't mature enough or sensitive enough to deal with such an "adult" topic? What assumptions are we making about them that cause some of us to veer hard and heavy in any other direction when encountering the potential discussion about race? And further, what assumptions do we make about ourselves that we feel we can't handle this type of discussion?
Look. I've posted some stuff on this blog that sounded as if I was very irritated or very discouraged. Some of it was venting, some fishing for new ideas. But if there is anything that will get these students talking, and more importantly, thinking, it is this discussion. I may post some things in jest...to sort of test the waters or see if anyone even reads these things. You can't take everything I say seriously, it's no fun that way. But why not get serious for a second and discuss some issues that really mean something. Ok, you got me. I can't be all that serious. So what follows is half written in jest and half a discussion that begs for response. Nobody may respond, but let's proceed anyway, shall we?
Today, I showed Dave Chappelle's interview on Inside the Actor's Studio. For those of us that know his work, Chappelle's comedy comes from his fearless and clever willingness to push beyond racial boundaries and to force these issue into the public forum, for ridicule, for awareness, and for good, fun comedy. But he threw it all away, even a 50-million-dollar contract, for piece of mind. Is he crazy? 50 million dollars! There had to be some underlying reason for throwing away that kind of financial freedom. But isn't that the point...that there are other things to be concerned about in this world than money, things, financial security?
I showed the first 45 minutes of the show in class after briefly discussing the power that comedians have in terms of slyly conveying a message to their audience and cut it off for discussion. I proposed the same thing that I just wrote here about why he may have given it all up. Then I asked the question that, when asked, receives the same response as shotgun blast to the face: silence. Of course, there is that instant silence. And the first thing that we all think is: Great, here we go. Now I'm going to have to rephrase the question or just start talking until I can't stand hearing myself speak. They are refusing to take part in this. They are bored. They want to go home. I want to go home. And just when I started to open my mouth, one of them responded.
I have to admit. I got scared. I didn't know what to think. I mean...they talk? They can actually talk? I thought they were just machines that only responded to commands. You know, robots. Wait a minute, I told myself. Let's see where this talking thing takes us. This was strange, but I let the student continue.
"It's like he's saying money isn't everything," the student says.
Ok, so now she has just basically said the same thing that I said. Not necessarily original, but that's what robots do. They are programed to repeat things. Let's test it and see if it knows anything else.
"So, what do you mean by that? Is there something that he insinuates that would be better?" I replied.
"Yeah," she said. "He talks about missing time with his father, who was dying, so that he could go meet TV executives about his pilot. He lost time with his father that he would never be able to make up."
Is this really a machine, I thought. It seems to be doing something...I can't quite place it. I think that it's thinking. I don't know if I care for that. Machines thinking? Maybe it's not a machine after all. Maybe it's...human. Well, let's keep testing it with more question to find out what else it knows.
"So these TV guys didn't really care that his dad was sick. They were just interested in making another show so that they could make money. Is that what you are saying? That they only wanted to exploit his talents because he appealed to a certain market of people and could make them a bundle of money?" I further questioned her.
She got this look on her face. It was strange. It was like she was...I don't know...excited? Is that the right word? Can you use that word to describe robots? It's as if she had something else that she couldn't wait to add, some idea that she was eager to convey. Well, right away I grew suspicious.
This could be another machine trick. I've seen this before in movies. I'm not a sucker for the old "I've got an idea that I want to discuss" trick. I've seen machines pull this one before. Fool me once, you crazy devils...
I started to interupt her and she just talked over the top of me. This machine is pretty persistant, I thought. It wants something, but what?...But what?
I let her speak.
"Well, look at how they tried to change his pilot. They wanted to recast a character for a white woman to make the show more appealing to white America. And how about the fact that they offered him 50 million dollars but told him that he was going to have to change his show a little bit to get a wider variety audience to watch it. To me, they are just trying to take something that he made and make it more white," she said emphatically.
I think I'm beginning to like this machine, I thought. It says things and has reasons.
"More white!" I exclaimed. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
"Let me explain," she responded.
I got animated. "Oh no. I don't know if I care for that. You can't say things and then expect to be able to explain yourself. That's not how it works around here. How dare you presume that I would allow such things as not standing on blanket statements alone. How dare you assume that I allow things like substantiated argumentation. What kind of class do you think this is? You just think you can just waltz in here with your fancy thinking and your opinons that can be backed up with logical reasoning. Oh no, not in this class. We'll have none of that 'thinking for yourself' stuff around here. We're robots awaiting instruction."
Of course, I was kidding around and everyone laughed. They got me. Finally! I think the point was made and maybe even understood. It may even stick. Well, we'll see what Spring Break does for that. But, nonetheless, there was progress. By poking at her comfort zone, she responded and so did others. She explained herself and made her point. There were head knods and I could see some students privately confirming what she said to each other. Most people agreed. But before I had time to look for alternate views, class time had expired. Actually, we had gone over a couple of minutes. So I sent them away with a final rousing speech about challenging your own assumptions and not judging things by the way they look. I told them that this is what we can expect to get themselves into when they get back from the break. If Pratt has taught me anything, it's that I need to expose their contact zones a tad to get them to respond. Maybe, by revealing these contact zones, my students will find a commonality that they never knew existed. Of course, I'm beginning to sound a bit ideolistic, but hey, why not? At least it would make for good conversation.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
My Little Experiment
I was having a hard time getting my students to speak up in class. You all know what I mean. You review a text. You ask questions.
Silence.
No matter how long you wait them out...silence. So, I figured that if they didn't want to communicate verbally, I would have them communicate in writing. So I gave them five prompts, and asked them to write as much as they could within the prescribed amount of time (6-7 minutes). Here are the prompts: (1) Write about a time when you were lost and you could not find help. How did you feel? (2) Write about a time when you were lost and you find help. Were you relieved? Were you annoyed? (3) Write about your expectations before you came into class today. And what are you thinking right now? (4) Write about what you think my expectations were before coming into class today. What am I thinking about right now? (5) If you were the boss, the one in control, let's say...me, how would you handle things? What would you do with the class?
Of course, you can change these prompts to fit your taste. But what I wanted them to do was to simply write as much as they could. Tell stories, recount their past, whatever. I just wanted them to give themselves some material to work with. Then I asked them to remove all personal account from each piece of writing and rewrite them as if they happened to someone else. I gave them the latitude to determine how they would do this. Finally, I asked them to read everything they had wrote, from beginning to end, as if they were all part of the same narrative. I told them to try to find a theme or underlying story that related all of these pieces of writing. They were to give each story a name. I asked them to write about that theme and use each individual piece that they had written about as evidence to support their writing/argument, citing each story by title.
The point was for them to learn to look outside of themselves, to develop the ability to conceptualize each piece of writing as something written by someone else. Too often have I found that they have a hard time getting away from what they think or how they feel. My students simply can not remove themselves from a situation and look at it objectively. They are too focused on their personal "opinion." This word get thrown around as if it holds some sort of substantive meaning. Most still don't know how to distinguish opinion from analysis.
My hope was that they would learn to think objectively through this exercise. They should learn to look at their writing objectively and compile the content (what each story/writing sample is about) of each writing prompt, not their individual opinions, into a single piece of writing that is driven by a theme and supported with evidence. At least, that is my intention. I'll keep you all posted when I get the results. Keep your fingers crossed for me, please.
Silence.
No matter how long you wait them out...silence. So, I figured that if they didn't want to communicate verbally, I would have them communicate in writing. So I gave them five prompts, and asked them to write as much as they could within the prescribed amount of time (6-7 minutes). Here are the prompts: (1) Write about a time when you were lost and you could not find help. How did you feel? (2) Write about a time when you were lost and you find help. Were you relieved? Were you annoyed? (3) Write about your expectations before you came into class today. And what are you thinking right now? (4) Write about what you think my expectations were before coming into class today. What am I thinking about right now? (5) If you were the boss, the one in control, let's say...me, how would you handle things? What would you do with the class?
Of course, you can change these prompts to fit your taste. But what I wanted them to do was to simply write as much as they could. Tell stories, recount their past, whatever. I just wanted them to give themselves some material to work with. Then I asked them to remove all personal account from each piece of writing and rewrite them as if they happened to someone else. I gave them the latitude to determine how they would do this. Finally, I asked them to read everything they had wrote, from beginning to end, as if they were all part of the same narrative. I told them to try to find a theme or underlying story that related all of these pieces of writing. They were to give each story a name. I asked them to write about that theme and use each individual piece that they had written about as evidence to support their writing/argument, citing each story by title.
The point was for them to learn to look outside of themselves, to develop the ability to conceptualize each piece of writing as something written by someone else. Too often have I found that they have a hard time getting away from what they think or how they feel. My students simply can not remove themselves from a situation and look at it objectively. They are too focused on their personal "opinion." This word get thrown around as if it holds some sort of substantive meaning. Most still don't know how to distinguish opinion from analysis.
My hope was that they would learn to think objectively through this exercise. They should learn to look at their writing objectively and compile the content (what each story/writing sample is about) of each writing prompt, not their individual opinions, into a single piece of writing that is driven by a theme and supported with evidence. At least, that is my intention. I'll keep you all posted when I get the results. Keep your fingers crossed for me, please.
My Pedagogy
Wow, do I really have a pedagogy? If so, does it resemble anyone's? These are tough questions, because I don't know if I have enough experience to adequately answer them. Simply put, I don't know if my pedagogy is developed to the point that it can be identified. I know that there are certain policies that I maintain in my classroom. For instance, I expect a certain level of responsibility from my students. I know freshman are freshman, but I think that if we continue to treat them as high school students, they will act like high school students. We are college teachers, therefore we should demand a certain level of professionalism. I don't believe in setting the bar too low; however, I try to remain very aware of whether I am setting it too high. I don't expect my students to write like DeLillo or Updike, but neither do I expect them to write like my 14-year-old cousins. I think if we set a high enough standard, they will step up their game in order to meet it. Let's face it, college isn't for everyone.
So what about the writing itself? Am I a process guy or a product guy? Hm. Both. I want them to produce a good product--one that is clear, concise, and contains good content. But I believe that in order for them to produce good writing, students must learn to hone their skills in terms of their writing process. Of course, editing and revision come into play when considering this. I try to stress the importance of revising their writing, that a true final draft is unattainable because they can always do better, but that doesn't mean that they can't do well. Students have to understand that producing good writing is work. It just doesn't magically happen. Learning good editing and revision skills is just one way to mold and polish their writing. That's what I tell them: Revision is the molding processing. It enables you to shape your work. Editing is polishing that work, removing the rough edges. Both are work, but both will provide you with a professional-looking product.
What is funny is that after I explain all of this, they look at me, amazed. "Oh my God, writing is so much work."
Exactly. But practice makes perfect. Well, sort of.
So what about the writing itself? Am I a process guy or a product guy? Hm. Both. I want them to produce a good product--one that is clear, concise, and contains good content. But I believe that in order for them to produce good writing, students must learn to hone their skills in terms of their writing process. Of course, editing and revision come into play when considering this. I try to stress the importance of revising their writing, that a true final draft is unattainable because they can always do better, but that doesn't mean that they can't do well. Students have to understand that producing good writing is work. It just doesn't magically happen. Learning good editing and revision skills is just one way to mold and polish their writing. That's what I tell them: Revision is the molding processing. It enables you to shape your work. Editing is polishing that work, removing the rough edges. Both are work, but both will provide you with a professional-looking product.
What is funny is that after I explain all of this, they look at me, amazed. "Oh my God, writing is so much work."
Exactly. But practice makes perfect. Well, sort of.
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