Approaches to Rhetoric & Composition Pedagogy

V. Response to Bartholomae’s “Inventing the University”


Critical Arguments

Bartholomae argues that a student writer must first identify and reproduce the language or discourse of any given field they are writing in. He also acknowledges that the student must carry out this process of language identification before they really know what that language itself—the history, techniques, or conventions—really is. Bartholomae relates this unlearned use of the language of a field of study to a bluff. This sort of projective writing, in which the students place themselves onto the body of a professional, is a performative act, one where the students must imagine themselves as privileged writers within the discourse. In this imagined position, they must ultimately adopt the existing language and craft their own messages—a process which Bartholomae argues will push the writer to “creativity” by allowing them to work against the codes of discourse.

Quotations

“Our students, I’ve said, have to appropriate (or be appropriated by) a specialized discourse, and they have to do this as though they were easily or comfortably one with their audience. If you look at the situation this way, suddenly the problem of audience awareness becomes enormously complicated.” (9)

“Writers who can successfully manipulate an audience…are writers who can both imagine and write from a position of privilege. They must, that is, see themselves within a privileged discourse, one that already includes and excludes a group of readers.” (9)

“What they fail to address is the central problem of academic writing, where students assume the right of speaking to some who knows Pittsburgh or “To His Coy Mistress” better than they do, a reader for whom the general commonplaces and the readily available utterances about a subject are inadequate.” (10)

“Much of the written work students do is test-taking, report or summary, work that places them outside the working discourse of the academic community, where they are expected to admire and report on what we do, rather than inside that discourse, where they can do its work and participate in a common enterprise.” (11)

“The university, however, is the place where ‘common’ wisdom is only of negative value; it is something to work against.” (17)

“The writer, as we have said, inherits the language out of which he must fabricate his own message.” He is therefore in constant tangle with the language, forced to recognize its public, communal nature…”(19)

Theories & Methods

Bartholomae makes use of student writings in order to demonstrate how the given students might perform when asked to confront the language of a specific discourse. The writings presented offer varying degrees of discourse awareness, exemplifying how those students make use of, or falter because of, the codes of the discourse. 

Reflection & Connection

Bartholomae questions the use of asking student writers to come up with a new or original idea; he argues that pushing a student towards this mission is counterproductive. Instead, an assignment should ask the students to approach and successfully appropriate a specific discourse’s language, allowing students to envelop themselves in the practice of the professionals. I have had a related experience in an English course in which the professor encouraged us to think of something new, an idea that had perhaps not been said about a text. Being that the course was on Shakespeare, I think the professor made an argument for an original idea by warning students to avoid dullness. If a student were to write on a cliched Shakespearean idea, the assignment might, at once, turn into a regurgitation of highlighted texts. That is, the student would simultaneously be using the language of Shakespearean discourse as well as reformulating a thesis; ultimately, the assignment would become an assessment of strict adhesion to expectations. In my case, spending some time to consider a seemingly new thought proved constructive. When identified an interesting idea, the discourse available to me became more pliable, or, as Bartholomae would say, I could use the established language to formulate my own message.   

A Question

What purpose does a reflective assignment serve? Bartholomae argues that writing exercises concerned with participating in the discourse are more constructive for student writers. How does an assignment–very much like this one–push student writers towards a better understanding of specific discourses (esp. writing studies)?









VI. Response to Perl’s “The Composing Process of Unskilled College Writers”


Critical Arguments

Unskilled writers who adhere to a strict procedure of editing throughout their writing process, Perl argues, curtail their invention and composing time. More so, the continuous editing often results in few correct changes. When considering the process of the examined students, Perl suggests that the prewriting phase most often involved planning followed quickly by writing. The physical process of writing, whether the students had a sense of direction or not, helped develop ideas. Once in the writing process, students flashed between constructing ideas and editing or rereading. Perl argues this recursive writing halted the students’ products; furthermore, the recursive nature of their writing process demonstrates the nonlinear nature of an unskilled writer’s methods. A recursive writing process ultimately disturbs invention. Perl argues that the findings of this study reveal that the unskilled writers are not beginners and may too often be concerned with the cosmetics of writing.  

Quotations

“To date no examination of composing processes has dealt primarily with unskilled writers. As long as ‘average’ or skilled writers are the focus, it remains unclear as to how process research will provide teachers with a firmer [understanding] of the needs of students with serious writing problems.” (318)

“In none of the writing sessions did he ever write more than two sentences before he began to edit. While editing fit into his overall recursive pattern, it simultaneously interrupted the composing rhythm he had just initiated….indeed, if the notations on these sheets were any indication at all, it was clear that Tony’s composing process was so full that there was little room left for invention or change.” (324)

“This consistency [of composing processes] suggests a much greater internalization of process than has ever before been suspected. Since the written products of basic writers often look arbitrary, observes commonly assumes that the students’ approach is also arbitrary.” (328)

“While [the students] occasionally indicated a concern for their readers, they more often took the reader’s understanding for granted. They did not see the necessity of making their referents explicit, of making the connections among their ideas apparent, of carefully and explicitly relating one phenomenon to another, or of placing narratives or generalizations within an orienting, [conceptual] framework.” (332)

“Since the surface features in the writing of unskilled writers seriously interfere with the extraction of meaning from the page, much class time is devoted to examining the rules of the standard code….[this] results in a further complication, namely that students begin to conceive of writing as a ‘cosmetic’ process where concern for correct form supersedes development of ideas. As a result, the excitement of composing, of constructing and [discovering] meaning, is cut off almost before it has begun.” (333-4)

Theories & Methods

Perl develops a system for coding the writing process in which behaviors are mapped throughout time. Acknowledging a variety of speaking, writing, and reading processes, Perl divides the system into specific functions like questioning, interpreting, or repeating. The study examines five unskilled college writers, applying the markings of the coding system on a continuum, or composing style sheet, as they appear. Multiple style sheets for each writer reveal patterns across the group.

Reflection & Connection

Although Perl’s study is exclusively concerned with unskilled writers and their processes, I think taking a similar approach, one which catalogues writing decisions, would be beneficial for most, if not all, classifications of writers. That is, Perl is generally asking the question: what is it you are doing? As shown in the article, this is especially useful for helping unskilled writers and their teachers identify processes which inhibit their success. At any point in one’s writing career, however, examining the process and precisely questioning the reason for one’s decisions serves the final product. Such a query should help to reveal the reasoning behind sentence level decisions as well as more grand considerations like critical arguments. Although I cannot speak to the value at which a professional writer would hold this method, it seems that asking why we do the things we do—our methods of invention, writing processes or tendencies—challenges our naturalized systems of writing. By putting these systems 

I make this argument because, when trying to understand what has helped me get to whatever level of a writer I am now, I locate a specific moment where I had to encounter what I was doing. One conference early in my English studies career, I was sat in front of a professor who picked apart an essay of mine. There was no choice but to confront myself. Perhaps it sounds like an unpleasant scene to be a part of, inasmuch as writers are often personally attached to their works. Seriously questioning writing, perhaps perceived as thinking, habits becomes embarrassing when a writer evaluates their skill as sufficient. Growing and remaining uncomfortable with this careful scrutiny, however, hurts the product. The writer must go to the boundaries of their process, past any self-evaluations, and admit to reassessment.

A Question

Perl starts to work towards the often prescriptive fashion of teaching writing in the final paragraphs of the article. In particular, teachers handle an unskilled writer as one who either lacks the understanding of “cosmetics” or one who has no experience, a beginner. Perl suggests teachers work with the internalized processes of the writer. That said, is there a platonic ideal of writing? What exactly is it that teachers and writers are aiming for? Clarity, coherence, and conciseness seem to me valid candidates.

VII. Response to Fulkerson’s “Composition at the Turn of the Twentieth-First Century”


Critical Arguments

Fulkerson, through an investigation of two writing-studies publications, argues that the discipline has diverged into three axiologies: critical cultural studies (CCS), expressivism, and procedural rhetoric. The second publication (2001) incorporates pedagogies unseen in the first (1980), pedagogies which, Fulkerson suggests, postmodernism, feminism, and British cultural studies have engendered. CCS is one of these pedagogies which, Fulkerson argues, is unfit for first-year writing courses as it focuses too heavily on textual or cultural interpretation instead of writing. Fulkerson argues that expressivist writing courses function in a similar fashion—teaching writing and the processes is subordinate to teaching self-awareness and creativity. Procedural rhetoric appears to be the most traditional of the three, but has been growing into argumentative composition, genre-based composition, and composing for academic discourse. The conflict between the three major axiologies considered leaves writing studies in an unpredictable phase.

Quotations

“The major difference shows up in chapters 5 to 8 of the new volume. They have no parallels in the older one. These four chapters represent variations of the major new area of scholarly interest in composition as we begin the twenty- first century, critical/cultural studies (CCS), showing the impact of postmodernism, feminism, and British cultural studies.” (657)

“In addition to paralleling literature-based “composition” courses and dis-playing our content envy, most CCS course seem inappropriate to me for two reasons. First, reading, analyzing, and discussing the texts upon which the course rests are unlikely to leave room for any actual teaching of writing.So we get a “writing” course in which writing is required and evaluated, but not taught….The second problem is the likelihood of indoctrination.” (665)

“Some expressive teachers are interested in helping students mature and become more self-aware, more reflective. [Others] are interested in writing as healing or therapy. Some are most interested in creative self-expression.” (667-8)

“In contemporary composition practice, I see rhetorical philosophies [taking] three different emphases: composition as argumentation, genre-based [composition], and composition as introduction to an academic discourse community.” (671)

“In The Making of Knowledge in Composition, Steve North asserted that ‘composition faces a peculiar methodological paradox: its communities [cannot] get along well enough to live with one [another], and yet they seem unlikely to survive […] without one another’ (369). I suggest the [paradox] is now not just methodological, but axiological, pedagogical, and processual. If you think that is a dangerous situation, as North and I do, then early in the twentieth-first century, composition studies is in for a bumpy ride.” (681)

Theories & Methods

Fulkerson examines two publications—one from 1980 and the other from 2001—which serve as a reference for first-year composition teachers. In order to explain the development of alternative composition pedagogies, Fulkerson uses the contents of the publications to demonstrate the changing focus of writing courses across universities. Fulkerson also brings in a slew of research which details possible effects of the alternative pedagogies.

Reflection & Connection

Fulkerson claims that students in CCS courses are forced to read texts deemed important by the instructors. This scenario reminds me of my first year composition course; yet, I come to a different conclusion. Fulkerson argues that reading and teaching such texts detracts from learning or teaching writing. In my experience, from Homer and Tacitus to Dante, I was encouraged for the first time to develop critical arguments from a text. More so, the instructor used the texts to frame the question, “Why are we making you read these?” The texts became something from which we could push back against—they are judged as important by the Honors College, but we asked if they should be. This critical thinking approach has been applicable in most scholarly situations I have found myself in. Although the writing process was not put under scrutiny, my first-year writing experience in a CCS did develop crucial invention techniques. I do, however, understand how Fulkerson’s ideal first-year composition course would be useful; closely examining writing in your first semester would help develop crucial skills.

Fulkerson, raising the old flag of a grump yet again, argues that the teacher’s interpretation of the text serves as the grading paradigm. In my first-year composition course, a student’s success was not marked by their ability to “interpret to the teacher’s satisfaction” (663), in fact, not even in literature courses focusing on critical theory are students evaluated in such manner. In all my CCS experiences, teachers mark a work successful if an argument is clearly supported. Students are encouraged to use the texts to construct a claim which must be thoroughly argued. Fulkerson also suggests that teachers dedicated to social injustices cannot “accept student viewpoints that deny such views” (664). This certainly becomes a tough situation to navigate for said teachers, but Fulkerson again seems to be constructing the CCS teacher as immovable to a fault. Ultimately, Fulkerson, especially in his criticism of the three new pedagogies of writing studies, reveals his yearning for the “simpler” or “traditional times.” Although this is a bit troubling, he does push forward the question of how the varying approaches to writing studies will or should be handled.

A Question

As writing studies continues to face the divergences examined by Fulkerson, will it make sense for the separating axiologies to break off? Are there consequences of sundering critical/cultural studies from writing studies? If they are separated, which will take precedent in a university setting (i.e. what becomes the first-year requirement)?

VIII. Response to Sommers’ “Responding to Student Writing”


Critical Arguments

Although commenting on students’ papers is significant in writing development and the revision process, Sommers argues that we do not understand the best way of going about it. Comments often motivate a student to revise with the teacher’s wants in mind rather than focusing on what they themselves are trying to say. Sommers calls this the appropriation of the text by the teacher. The article also finds that teachers often use vague language when demanding the student be more specific. Such comments could be “rubber-stamped” onto any paper, making writing appear to be a process of following rules. Sommers suggests that comments on early drafts should ask questions about text which help students address issues a reader might encounter. Ultimately, comments should encourage the student to revise and take into their own hands the process of developing their work.  

Quotations

“Thus, we comment on student writing to dramatize the presence of a reader, to help our students to become that questioning reader themselves, because, ultimately, we believe that becoming such a reader will help them to evaluate what they have written and develop control over their writing.” (148)

“The teacher appropriates the text from the student by confusing the student’s purpose in writing the text with her own purpose in commenting. Students make the changes the teacher wants rather than those that the student [perceives] are necessary, since the teachers’ concerns imposed on the text create the reasons for subsequent changes.” (149-150)

“We have observed an overwhelming similarity in the generalities and abstract commands given to students. There seems to be among teachers an accepted, albeit unwritten canon for commenting on student texts. This [uniform] code of commands, requests, and pleadings demonstrates that the teacher holds a license for vagueness while the student is commanded to be specific. The students we interviewed admitted to having great difficulty with these vague directives. The students stated that when a teacher writes in the margins or as an end comment, ‘choose precise language,’ or ‘think more about your audience,’ revising becomes a guessing game.” (153)

“Our comments need to be suited to the draft we are reading. In a first or second draft, we need to respond as any reader would, registering questions, reflecting befuddlement, and noting places where we are puzzled about the meaning of the text. Comments should point to breaks in logic, disruptions in meaning, or missing information. Our goal in commenting on early drafts should be to engage students with the issues they are considering and help them clarify their purposes and reasons in writing their specific text.” (155)

Theories & Methods

Sommers’ article examines the comments of thirty-five teachers on first and second drafts of the same three essays. The students who wrote the essays were interviewed on their reaction to the comments. Sommers utilizes some of her own work on writing comments as well as that of Brannon and Knoblach to build a foundation for understanding teachers’ decisions as well as the students’.  

Reflection & Connection

Plenty of writing situations present themselves for reflection after reading this article. Throughout my college career, comments on drafts have run the gamut from quite unhelpful to thoroughly constructive. I have had decent luck within the English department insomuch that comments typically focus on questioning and encouraging my thoughts. This type of comment is often useful in identifying areas which lack explanation—points in the text where I may have made an assumption of the reader. Comments of this degree generally work to encourage writing and revising on the invention level. In a number of courses, even peer review sessions are centered around this content-level concern. Catching the odd misspelling or grammatical error is certainly helpful in review sessions, but making them truly worthwhile requires comments with an eye towards argumentation. Suggesting that students ask questions of the text, especially when handling early drafts, helps the writer further their thoughts and potentially points out places for expansion the writer might not have considered. This seems to be Sommers ideal commenting process as well, one which encourages the writer to revise with a purpose. 


Experience with a revision process such as this strengthens all revision processes. When peer review sessions turn out relatively unhelpful as they are prone to without direction, you can ask critical questions of your own writing. Similarly, when a teacher’s comments seem to not provide much to work with, these experiences with more constructive comments lead the way towards self-diagnosis. I have found, however, that teacher comments can lead you down different writing paths, particularly those which are concerned more with finding what to write rather than constructing your own thoughts.

A Question

One thing I am curious about after reading Sommers’ article is why and when certain comments register as less important. What makes a student ignore specific comments? I suspect it comes down to a time management assessment. Furthermore, how do teachers confront their own commenting process knowing that the student has a selective eye?

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