ENGL week 8 discussion

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The author discusses how she teaches composition. Their

success may stem, in part, from a mantra that she taken to

heart: If students consistently fail at something in the

classroom, it's not their fault. It's her fault.

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Most faculty members are teaching writing exactly as we

should.

M y students can't write a clear sentence to save their lives.

It's my job to help them change that.

I have taught writing for 10 years. Much like Joseph R. Teller,

whose October essay criticizing how we teach composition

riled many a writing instructor, I have "experimented with

different assignments, activities, readings, [and] approaches

to commenting on student work." But my results have been

very different from his. Rather than seeing my students fail

repeatedly, I'm seeing more and more of them succeed.

Their success may stem, in part, from a mantra I've taken to

heart: If students consistently fail at something in my

classroom, it's not their fault. It's mine.

I teach at a community college in Texas, in a city where

almost 20 percent of the citizens live below the poverty line.

More than 30 percent of children in the city live in poverty.

About 70 percent of my college's students take classes only

part-time, and 73 percent entered this year taking at least

one developmental course. Most of them have lived and

been educated in a system that has overwhelmingly failed

them due to a focus on testing rather than learning. Most

have taken time away from education to work, so what

writing skills they did possess have probably atrophied.

Teller argued that the three pillars of composition pedagogy -

- that courses should "focus on process, not product," that

students should write on "complex issues rather than imitate

rhetorical modes," and that reading and writing should be

combined in the same course -- don't actually work. But I find

they do, and I'm not alone in thinking so.

First, here's a simple truth about the writing process:

Contrary to Teller's claim that "students do not revise," I have

found that students will revise their drafts, given the tools

and time to do so. As we all well know, revision is time-

intensive, and time is the most precious commodity most of

my students have. It's not enough just to teach revision. It

has to be consistently and constantly modeled, which, again,

takes time. And students need time to work on their

revisions in class -- uninterrupted and with my help and

supervision. That approach, in my experience, results in

revisions that are not only substantial but effective.

Teller also criticized peer workshops, a mainstay of

composition instruction, saying, "In peer workshops, while

students get more confident in sharing feedback on each

other's work, they generally ignore their classmates'

suggestions."

But the point of peer workshops isn't just for students to

become confident about reading and weighing on someone

else's writing. The point is for students learn how to read

their own writing. That, too, has to be consistently and

constantly modeled.

Providing specific ideas and goals for students to work on

directs their feedback in more productive ways. And again,

my help and supervision makes both the process of giving

and receiving feedback more useful as well. Rather than a

way to "lose another hour of class time," as Teller claims,

peer workshops can be a very important use of class time

that accomplishes a number of different goals: revision,

raising confidence in writing skills, giving feedback, and

reading instruction.

At the beginning of each semester, I ask students how many

of them think they are bad writers. Without fail, 90 percent of

them raise their hands. I tell them they're wrong. There is no

such thing as a bad writer. There is only a writer who needs

more practice. Relieving their fear of writing is as important

in my job as teaching them how to avoid run-on sentences

because without relieving that fear, students will be too

afraid to even try writing those run-ons.

I also find it ironic that Teller decries the skill of critical

reading while bemoaning his students' inability to use basic

argumentative structures in their writing. How can we teach

argumentative structures without asking students to

critically read argumentative writing? While I agree that we

must avoid letting themed content take over in our writing

courses, there's no reason that the two can't coexist. I am a

firm believer that the more students read and the more they

write, the better their writing will become.

So how can I help my students become better writers?

Here is how I approached teaching 150 first-year

composition students this fall.

Students need to be constantly writing. They should write,

whether or not they receive feedback from me on each draft.

The more comfortable they feel with the writing process, the

more confident they will become in their own skills and their

own ideas. I set up a lot of low-risk writing assignments

nearly every day in class to give students the ability to

experiment with techniques without worrying about failure.

Be a mentor, not merely a judge and jury. Of course I give

grades. But at the end of the day, my responsibility is to help

students become better writers, better students, and better

citizens. I can't do that by blaming them for their inability to

write. Nor can I do it by taking over part of the writing

process for them and essentially giving them a list of things

to "fix." Instead I encourage students to see me as their

writing mentor, which lessens the sense of fear that many of

my students begin the semester with.

Students need to be interacting with ideas. I would much

rather read a sophisticated, intricate argument that is not

grammatically or structurally correct than an argument that

follows strict rhetorical rules and only skims the surface of

ideas. Simply teaching the technical skills of writing

supposes that writing is just that -- a skill -- rather than an

art. We do not hand students a toolbox with the hammer of

Aristotelian logic and the wrench of rhetoric. We teach them

to paint, sometimes with exacting realism, sometimes with

abstract thought, and sometimes with breathtaking

impressionism. We can't do that if we aren't teaching them

about the ideas they're trying to represent.

The writing process is as important as the product. Of

course students can sit down the night before and hammer

out an essay worth an A. I did it several times as an

undergraduate. But that essay could also be better had it

gone through the process. And while I will not fail an essay

for not having gone through multiple drafts, I will penalize it.

Model what I want students to do. I show students how to do

peer review. We workshop thesis statements. And I ask for

honest feedback from students about my assignments and

how I can refine them so they are clearer to understand. I ask

students about which of my in-class assignments worked --

and which didn't -- so that I can improve my teaching.

I am not going to save the world in my composition classes.

I know that. But through them, I can make the world a little

better. I can make students less afraid of writing. I can let

them know that their professor is here to help them find their

voice; that they have something worth saying, even if they

aren't sure how to say it yet; and that the writing process

leads to a product that is worthwhile and something to be

proud of.

In Teller's rather grumpy essay, he suggested that his

decision to focus on writing technique -- and avoid issues or

difficult reading assignments -- would probably mean that

"by the end of the semester, my students will hate my course

because it is 'boring,' 'hard,' and 'a lot of work.' ... But if they

show up, do the work, and turn off their phones, they just

might leave my class able to write a sentence."

By the end of the semester, I expect, many of my students

will be groaning about my composition course, too. It's also

hard work -- and a lot of it. I get frustrated with them at

times. They get frustrated with me. We work through it

together and keep plugging along.

But if they show up, turn off their phones, and do the work,

then not only will they leave my class able to write a

sentence, they will leave as stronger writers who believe in

their own ideas and abilities, and who find themselves more

prepared for the rest of their academic -- and nonacademic --

careers.

Emily Shearer Stewart is an assistant professor of English

and philosophy at Del Mar College, in Corpus Christi, Tex.

Credit: By Emily Shearer Stewart

IllustrationIllustration

Melinda Beck for The Chronicle Review; Tim Cook for The

Chronicle Review; Caption: Creative Plagiarism 1; Good and

Risky: the Promise of a Liberal Education 1

Word count: 14621462

(Copyright Nov. 21, 2016 by The Chronicle of Higher

Education)

+

No, We're Not Teaching Composition 'All Wrong' Emily Shearer Stewart.

The Chronicle of Higher EducationThe Chronicle of Higher Education; Washington; Washington (Nov

21, 2016): n/a.

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