Oct 142015
 

 

I just finished reading Malcolm Gladwell’s newest New Yorker article, Thresholds of Violence: How school shootings catch on.

Gladwell references a theory first published nearly 40 years ago by sociologist Mark Granovetter.

“Social processes are driven by our thresholds—which he defined as the number of people who need to be doing some activity before we agree to join them. In the elegant theoretical model Granovetter proposed, riots were started by people with a threshold of zero—instigators willing to throw a rock through a window at the slightest provocation. Then comes the person who will throw a rock if someone else goes first. He has a threshold of one. Next in is the person with the threshold of two. His qualms are overcome when he sees the instigator and the instigator’s accomplice. Next to him is someone with a threshold of three, who would never break windows and loot stores unless there were three people right in front of him who were already doing that—and so on up to the hundredth person, a righteous upstanding citizen who nonetheless could set his beliefs aside and grab a camera from the broken window of the electronics store if everyone around him was grabbing cameras from the electronics store.”

Gladwell applies this theory to school shootings and says that a lot of kids and young adults who are currently planning and executing mass shootings may actually have pretty high thresholds of violence; that is, they really don’t have an inherent, evil desire to do harm or any real emotional reason to do so. He also gives evidence that at least one of these young people has planned or committed violent/mass shootings as a “symptom” of being on the autism spectrum (!).

The whole thing is fascinating. It makes me wonder, are you more, less, or just as worried as you’ve ever been about encountering a gunman on campus or in the grocery store?

 

 Posted by at 6:14 pm
Oct 142015
 

After going through Peter Elbow’s “Being a Writer vs Being an Academic,” I find myself disliking the approach and distinction that Elbow highlights. While I can agree that not all writers wish to pursue traditional academic studies and that not all academics wish to write about everything, inserting this distinction into a freshman writing class seems a bit dangerous. Are not the students there to learn how to write in an academic setting? First year writing classes are, unless I’m mistaken, there to help students learn to the write the types of papers that their higher level classes’ professors expect them to write. Taking away the academic aspects of writing in the classroom would leave students vulnerable in their higher level classes. I do like his idea of putting his students’ papers in conversation with each other; however, I find that being in touch with others, be they scientists, academics, politicians, etc., to be a useful skill because that type of writing and research is prevalent throughout many jobs. Elbow mentions the “self-absorbed” writer being a positive thing, but advocating for a self-centered idea, while it has the possibility to urge students forward, ultimately does more harm than good when they leave that class, at least in my opinion. With all the above being said, I find myself thinking about the nature of the first year writing class and whether or not its purpose is to prepare students for academic writing or to teach them how to write, in the sense that Elbow uses.

 Posted by at 5:58 pm
Oct 142015
 

Looking back over the course of the past week (both conferences and the two classes this week), I’ve noticed a few things. One such thing being that during conferences, students had no idea what to do, despite being told what would go on at their individual conference. I asked them to bring their papers to discuss with me any questions they had about their grades or my comments, as well as, be prepared to go over their progress in the class. Oh, they also were required to bring their midterm (I still don’t have everybody’s complete midterm). Most students showed up empty handed, unprepared, and midterm-less. Fast forwarding to this week, I’ve had students, more than usual, ask me what their Reading Response assignment was the night before it was due. I’ve noticed papers with fudged margins and spacing (usually together! not one or the other), and then one student asked me why they had to use Times New Roman font. The student wanted to know why they couldn’t use larger fonts. It was at this point today, through all of these circumstances, that I came to the conclusion that the students just don’t listen, and I have absolutely no idea how to make them listen short of yelling at them and being the instructor no one likes. Any suggestions in this department would be immensely beneficial because this past week brought my tolerance to the brink of spilling over. I’m not exactly sure how to dangle a shiny thing, so to speak, in front of their assignments and needed knowledge in order for them to pay attention, or at a minimum, listen.

 Posted by at 5:36 pm
Oct 142015
 

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In Bartholomae’s article, “Writing With Teachers” he discusses power in the classroom and authorship of students. He says, There is no better way to investigate the transmission of power, tradition and authority than by asking students to do what academics do: work with the past, with key texts; working with other’s terms; struggling with the problems of quotation. . . where one version of a student’s relationship to the past is represented with commentary of his own” (66)? Although I don’t totally disagree with this statement, I think that advances in technology allow us to move beyond this method. Traditionally the best way to learn was to study and mimic the writing style of those who came before us. Those writers, who dominated literary canons were usually very similar to each other (education, class, race, and gender). These people held/hold power because of the consistent study (see value) of the work that they produced. Academics have always “work[ed] with the past, with key texts; work[ed]with other’s terms.” As time passed, institutions began to recognize the value in the work of people who sat on the other side of the those people. I think the best way to transmit power to students, especially those who aren’t “like” the “classics” is by introducing them to works by people like them. By recognizing the value of people like them through critical study of their texts, students see and experience how possible non-standard authorship is.

I mentioned technology earlier, and should probably note its relevance here  😉 There are so many incredible non-standard voices that are contributing to important conversations that it seems useful to share with the students, people like them who are contributing to “text.” Of course this means expanding the definition of “text” and maybe reading voices via Twitter (maybe). In class I mentioned digital conversations and its relation to the articles we’re reading, and my students were really excited about it. I used #TheAfricaTheMediaNeverShowsYou to encourage them to recognize the power in their voices. I’m not sure if it worked. I’m not sure if this is clear. Are you still there?

 Posted by at 5:29 pm
Oct 142015
 

When we read Donald Murray’s reflection on the writing conference, I thought, “Wow. Wouldn’t it be great to have the autonomy to teach that way?”

Turns out, yes, it would — in theory, and with a lot of practice.

My student conferences were largely successful. I channeled my inner psychotherapist, bit my tongue, and tried to be “The Listening Eye”.  I enjoyed talking to my students, and was gratified to see how seriously they were taking the class. It was fascinating to see the myriad and personal approaches they had to reading, drafting, and writing. Some of them were very, very self-aware of their limitations and strengths, and all of them were able to articulate a plan to achieve the “grade goal” they set for themselves.

It was exhausting. I don’t know how by 1979 Murray had managed 30,000+ student conferences — and 35 on the day about which he wrote.

 

 Posted by at 5:15 pm
Oct 142015
 

As this news applies to all of us, I thought it was fitting to share and discuss.

http://www.msnbc.com/msnbc/florida-house-committee-approves-bill-allow-guns-college

What I found interesting, and perhaps not shocking, was the last statement: “The Sunshine State received an “F” grade and ranked 32 out of the 50 states in the most recent annual scorecard published at the end of December by the Law Center to Prevent Gun Violence. The letter reflects the southern state’s weak gun laws, which do not require background checks on private sales, and allow for the purchase of assault weapons.”

If the state itself doesn’t even require background checks on certain sales of guns, how are schools going to possibly regulate who is allowed to carry and who is not? Also, are teaching going to be allowed to carry weapons? Can I bring my assault rifle to my freshmen comp class? Not that I have one, you know what I mean.

What does everyone think?

 

Oct 142015
 

Looking back on midterm reflections, I can say that overall they were a success. It was a great chance for students who needed to discuss specific things on their papers with me to do so, since evidently getting a student to actually visit you during office hours is like having a root canal. However, what I did notice is that not many students actually came prepared with questions based on my comments left in the margins. After many students failed to take my comments and corrections on their rough drafts into consideration, I’ve begun circling errors, but not giving exact corrections for some things on their papers, especially if I know we spent a lot of time on it in class. Anticipating many questions regarding my non-specific comments, I was braced for an onslaught during one on one conferences. However, my hopes were crushed as students just sat across from me and passively listened to my explanations. What I got instead was the comment “I didn’t know we had to do that on every paper.” Rather than coming to see me to find out what went wrong in their paper, or discuss ways to improve, they choose to continue making the same mistakes, and I’m not sure why. I know this sounds rather pessimistic, and I would like to stress that this is not the case for every student. I’m just astounded at the differences between when I was sitting in freshmen comp as an undergrad myself, and the behavior of my current students. BLOWS MY MIND!

Oct 142015
 

“To be blunt, I must be sure not to ‘teach’ these texts (in the common sense of the term), but rather to ‘have them around’ to wrestle with, to bounce off of, to talk about and talk from, to write about and write from. Again: not feel we must be polite or do them justice. In taking this approach I think we would be treating texts the way academics and writers treat them: using them rather than serving them” (74)

While I attempt to do this in my class, and I stress the importance of using the texts to create and support your own argument, I find most students still fall under the category of “serving them.” Their thesis statements just seem to be reiterations of the author’s claim, and no new thoughts are formed. If no new thoughts are formed regarding the matter, how can they actually enter the conversation the texts have created?

I think I have found a way to counter this dilemma in the classroom setting during peer review, by forcing them to think of their own papers as the text, since the majority of them are just summaries anyway, this works out. If their own papers become the text, then the classroom is the writing community, and their papers begin to form a conversation amongst themselves, and their peers become their audience. For essay two, some students agreed with Restak while others agreed with Samuel, and I put those people into pairs. The conversations the erupted from this disagreement led to some new generation of ideas that they hadn’t previously considered, and their papers drastically improved. They began to consider themselves as writers within their own community.

Oct 142015
 

Whoa. This blew my mind (from Elbow’s writer vs. academic pg 73):

(1) Sometimes I’ve felt a conflict about what we should read in the first year writing course. It would seem as though in order to help students see themselves as academics I should get them to read “key texts”: good published writing, important works of cultural or literary significance; strong and important works. However if I want them to see themselves as writers, we should primarily publish and read their own writing.

I’ve never even considered this. It’s a weird idea to think of telling students that rather than learning from “the greats”, we are going to be reading their own work, making them “the greats” in their own way. This idea of belonging to a community of writers is pretty cool. There is inherent pride and accomplishment in publishing work. I wonder how much more of a confident writer I might be now if I had had teachers who really pushed me to publish something I wrote: to communicate, by publishing it, that my writing has value and should be shared. I think it took me years to even consider the idea, and I’m only just beginning to put my eggs in that basket and run with it (hence the MFA program, to which I only applied because loved ones really encouraged me to and told me they enjoyed reading what I wrote. That hadn’t occurred to me before.)

I also loved the dialogue about not knowing something if you can’t say it on pg. 77. I’d really like to lean into this as a writer in the same way Elbow mentions he did. To consider that if I feel I can’t articulate something the way I want to, it doesn’t make me stupid or ignorant or “not knowing” the topic. It just means that I’m ready to take on the challenge of trying to write about it or put it into words. And when you take on that challenge, you become a writer.

Oct 142015
 

Peter Elbow states that in order to write effectively, one must ignore audience, or at least for the majority of the writing. When I first started to read this, I couldn’t imagine how he could be right. In academic writing, one must always know the audience and whom one is talking to, whether it’s a friend, colleague, or professor. Audience is a crucial part of writing, something I have told my students over and over again. A student can’t write a formal academic paper to a friend and expect it to be polished and professional. It just will not happen.

I then started thinking about my creative writing side, however, and realized that Elbow is on to something I had never really thought of before. Writing, for me, is stream-of-consciousness and I write what I think. I write everything, even if it doesn’t make sense. But the audience is just me so it’s ok. Elbow states, “By doing this exploratory ‘swamp work’ in conditions of safety, we can often coax our thinking through a process of new discovery and development. In this way we can end up with something better than we could have produced if we’d tried to write to our audience all along.” Perhaps Elbow’s theory can work in some types of creative writing but not formal, academic papers. I’m going to explore this idea more.

 Posted by at 1:37 pm
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