I’m not sure why I’m having such a hard time digesting the analogy of the composition classroom as  coffee house. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that as much as we try to break down these authoritative barriers between teacher-student, we have to admit that they ultimately still exist. Can natural language actually occur in a space that is purportedly egalitarian, but where only the student expect that her grade rests upon her participation in coffee house chatter? What is natural language anyway? Is this a dangerous term? What about the fact that the coffee house-as space-is sometimes exclusionary? Does everyone drink coffee, frequent coffee houses, or participate in that kind of community? I’m sure I’m taking this too far–and this is the result of a 7am conversation with my roommate–but I don’t know how to reconcile this new classroom experience with the old paradigms of the educational institution–namely grades. Is grading just as outdated as the banking method?

I’ve been looking over the English 1000 courses on Wiki from last Fall, and I came across quiet a few assignments dealing with playlists and music. Jeff had one assignment on his website that was an Ipod playlist that I found particularly interesting. However, in a selfish move–because I’m not up to par with music these days (it comes last a long line-up of reading and watching movies)–I’m wondering if I can create something similar with a Netflix queue assignment. What if I had students pick a top 5 or 10 film list and had them do the same kind of work with taste, interests, and identity? Instead of the breakdown for the playlist  (theme, idea, symbol, metaphor, belief) I could do theme, scene, symbol, character, plot. I’m not sure if those categories work as well, but this is just a brainstorming exercise right now. I could then ask them to connect these films to their other interests, like literature, career, and music. Or maybe I could do something with the films they pick and the playlists that accompany the films. Or both. I’m really working hard to come up with assignments that integrate technology, my interests, and non-traditional elements. This is what I have for now.

Oh, and then maybe I can have them work with someone else’s queue (like you can actually on Netflix) and have them do something with 1 of the films in their peer’s queue.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/29813008@N02/

This should take you to my flickr collage/virtual annotated bibliography/

I keep adding to it as I think of new interests etc.

I’m sitting here this morning trying to get a head start on my syllabus and assignment–not to mention fix up my flickr account, which has been largely neglected in the last few weeks. I’m feeling so overwhelmed at this point in the semester–with teaching and taking–and am wondering how it is all going to get done. Urg.

Anyhow, I’m torn today between trying to create something that lasts all semester, or that is broken up into units (like my current course is). I like the idea of units because it offers students a chance (and me) to feel like they have accomplished something, finished it, and can indulge in a rare moment of task-completion euphoria (which is what I do when I check off all of the items on my to-do list). This also seems to help with the mid-semester slump–there’s something new to do, to talk about, to discover. However, if I incorporate a portfolio (which I”m seriously considering), then it would make sense to have a semester long project so that students can look back over their work and draw connections, talk about revision, and discuss process. Sometimes this proves hard in a portfolio class where every assignment is totally different (and distanced) from the one before it. And that distance may account for some of the more formulaic letters of reflection that get included in the portfolio.

Things to consider.

I’ve been so swamped this week that I’ve neglected this blog–sorry blog. I’m going to write a few entries this weekend in recompense.

First–our discussions this week about exploratory writing, gathering information, and implicating students have me thinking about my current classroom (and how my future classroom might be very different from my current classroom). I guess this also has me thinking more about my Super Size Me assignment, and what exactly I hope the end-result of a unit based on the “evils” of fast food is–do I want everyone to stop eating McDonalds (even though I myself indulge in their unsweetened iced-tea b/c it’s cheap and I’m addicted to tea)? Or do I just want to expose them to an institution (one of the many they may be involved in) and get them thinking about what involvement means? I think honestly it’s a little bit of both. But I also believe this idea of “danger” that we’ve been discussing might actually come in the form of awareness–and not necessarily action (though I do find myself hoping for that action that Sarah was talking about). Is it enough just to get them asking questions, considering alternatives, expanding individual awareness to include something broader (or even global)? I guess so. For now.

I’ve also been mentally rehashing our discussion of assignments that involve exploration. Everything that the class suggested in regards to studying McDonalds as place/space/object and its connection to university life proved provocative and compelling. I have to admit that these kinds of assignments, while exciting to think about, do sort of frighten me. When you take away the sort of structure and linearity (is this a word? If not, I think it should be) of a traditional academic essay, I feel like I can offer a critique and grade that are justified. I guess it’s sort of narcissistic, but I can tap into my skills and authority in that instance, and feel like the “expert” I’ve been taught the teacher should be. Also–in such an instance I feel like I can offer constructive criticism that is applicable, practical, and useful. But when we take away this kind of structure, I feel less capable of expertise or authority. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it fosters an environment where everyone matters and everyone has something important to bring to the table. I feel intimidated a bit though–when we have to assign grades to personal writing, collections of evidence that aren’t thesis-driven, exploratory projects that have no peak (other than exploration), or even visual collages etc. How can anyone not get an A? How can you critique someone’s personal narrative in a constructive way? Do these assignments really offer the same opportunities for the skills that come with traditional academic writing? Is this even the point? Should we be giving students new skills that better reflect their generation/life/career/school experience than what we grew up with? What does it say that I’m 27 and out of touch with incoming Freshman? Is this inevitable? Do I need to “get with it?”

I’m confused. And my confusion isn’t anything new. I live in ambivalence when it comes to this class. I embrace ambiguity. I’m always equally excited and intimidated by our discussions and readings. I haven’t been able to get to that point of action. But I might. And maybe that’s what matters!?.

Textbook Review #2

My second textbook, Internet Invention (2003) has me back in the Ulmer-zone with a (re) encounter of the mystory and the wonderful world of electracy. Internet Invention works under the assumption that students (and teachers) should be versed in both production and consumption of writing, and that in today’s society this multi-faceted exposure can occur through the internet. In his preface to the text, Ulmer discusses his successful experience incorporating new media into freshman comp, graduate seminars, cultural studies, new media disciplines, and business writing. Thus, Internet Invention is meant to be multi-level-accessible and interdisciplinary.

There are 10 chapters and every chapter is divided into 6 subcategories: Studio, Remakes, Lectures, File, Office, and Companion website (xiii-xiv). Overall, subcategories Studio, Lecture, and Office proved most helpful to me as a reader. Particularly, the end comments in Office were useful as they always anticipated problems that I was having with connecting some of the ideas within the chapter to the larger assignment. I’m not sure why I can understand this stuff when we talk about it in class (like when Dr. Rice showed us the popcycle or the mystory), but in Ulmer’s textbook it often seems totally beyond me. I have a really hard time understanding his explanations and directions for assignments. Is the language of new media beyond me? Is learning to use technology like learning a language? Does it come easier if you get to it before you are 12? Perhaps this problem with understanding is due to (in direct opposition to Ulmer’s acknowledgement that this text never attempts to recreate the websites) the fact that it’s hard to put the textbook to the test without actually accessing and altering a website on my own. I’m just not depth-perceptive enough to get these same concepts on paper and I think the essential part of the process of production is actually “doing” the assignments (creating websites, learning html, fiddling with images etc).

In any case, the companion website (www.ablongman.com/ulmer) proved most helpful to me when needing to get the necessary visuals to imagine the assignments. And, the website offers different versions of the assignments for different educational levels. After viewing the freshman composition syllabus, I’ve come to the conclusion that Internet Invention is probably actually geared towards a more advanced course, as reflected by the website’s altered freshman syllabus and condensed versions of activities. Here are some examples of how he organizes his freshman syllabus:

• Emails instead of in-class essay exams
• Bands instead of in-class group work (although Band presentations result in group collaboration and discussion)
• Unit projects on Family, Entertainment, Community and Career
• A semester long project that builds upon each of the 4 categories above (encompassed in their own unit project) called an Image of Wide Scope

The wide-image is at the center of Internet Invention as well, and each of the four unit projects makes an appearance as a chapter assignment or exercise. I’m most attracted to chapter 8—which is geared towards the college experience (with quite a twist). The chapter is titled “The Bar (Street),” and asks students to think about the bar (as space) as an extension of community. I think this chapter appeals to me because I’m very interested in asking students to study objects/spaces through exploratory writing. Ulmer describes the bar—as chora—as “a place that manifests what is happening at a global level of events” (211). And he connects the bar to global events quite quickly. In only a few pages we move from the bar to college drinking and rites of passage to[music at bar] blues/bluesman to Alan Greensburg’s Love in Vain to Edward Kamau Brathwaite’s, “Blues” to a specific kind of bar] Brothels. I critiqued Textbook for attempting to take on too much, but I think Ulmer found a successful balance with Internet Invention. These passages are short enough for students to read together, and dense enough that they will have to “do some work” to make necessary connections. Further, in Internet Invention Ulmer offers comments at the end of these passages that tie up loose ends and provide provocative associations for those students who need a little help [or even those instructors like me who do]. Ultimately chapter 8 provides a wonderful opportunity for juxtaposing multiple texts and uncovering repeating patterns—both skills that will be necessary to the upcoming juxtapositions between Community, Entertainment, Family, and Career that will occur in the wide-image website.

Internet Invention is a sophisticated and challenging text that asks us to reconsider how our pedagogy can (and should) engage online writing. Specifically, Ulmer urges both students and teachers to “invent a new practice of writing native to hypermedia” that seeks to reinforce critical thinking through “self-knowledge” (xiii). I would definitely consider using this textbook as a reader in my course (as soon as I learn how to create a website and re-read the text a few times over Winter Break to make sure that I am more comfortable with new media assignments and their connection to self-exploration). However, I would probably use the website in conjunction with the text in order to make necessary alterations to learning-levels.

Textbook (2002) is a collaborative work by Greg Ulmer, Robert Sholes, and Nancy Comely that attempts to reinvigorate the static college literature classroom by re-situating literature as text to be written “through” rather than “about” (iii). Specifically intended for use in the Introduction to Literature course—Textbook hopes to inspire both teachers and students to bridge the seemingly ever-extending gap between writing and reading.  Indeed, the book urges that the classroom environment become one of emulation, where learning to write is dependent upon learning to understand how other writers think about writing (and engage in the writing process). However, this Textbook has no place in the traditional banking methodology. Instead it works to bring writers (as readers) to a new understanding of how texts function in an active classroom that depends upon engagement.

In an attempt to reach this new perspective,  Textbook is divided into four chapters that intentionally incorporate inter-disciplinary excerpts in order to prepare students for the multi-disciplinary reading and writing processes necessary to its final (and also intentionally alternative) research assignment—the Mystory. This preparation is predicated on the idea that both teachers and students must embrace the concept of “doing things” with texts, and subsequently each chapter employs questions and writing activities that emphasize active engagement with literature, rather than simple passive readings of it. Chapter One, “Texts as Representation,” works with narrative and drama to make explicit the complex (and often implicit) connections between life experience and text. Chapter Two, “Texts, Thoughts and Things,” asks students to move away from larger concepts like genre to smaller concepts like language—in particular, the metaphor. Chapter Three, “Texts and Other Texts,” builds upon the interdependence of texts, with the hopes that students will be able to build authorial confidence through play with texts. Chapter Four, “Texts and Research: the Mystory,” introduces students to a new form of researched argumentation that promotes the study of literature as a tool for self-reflection: the Mystory.

The first three chapters are filled with a pleasing variety of texts that play upon one another in unusual ways. My favorite example is in chapter three, when the authors use an excerpt from Milton’s Samson Agonistes as a lens for viewing a Nike ad. The main idea is to show how texts are continuously revamped, and we can discuss them as pre, present, and post versions of each other. The questions following each group of excerpts are inconsistently engaging. For example, in chapter two students are asked to read Emily Martin’s “The Egg and the Sperm: How Science has Constructed a Romance Based on Stereotypical Male-Female Roles,” and to write a comparison/contrast essay that addresses the differences/similarities between early sex-ed and this text. Chapter two is all about metaphor, and the Martin’s essay is full of rich material for metaphorical discussion. I’m wondering how a comparison/contrast will address this richness. Yet, in the collection of excerpts preceding Martin’s essay, which discuss randomness-as-creative-technique, students are asked to “do something” more constructive: create a random poem of their own by cutting headlines from a newspaper and “tease the reader with near approaches to normal syntax and meaning, and surprise that reader by strange deviations from the normal” (85). Certainly this assignment makes manifest the goals of Textbook to get at texts “through” texts.

In my opinion the most successful, challenging, and engaging chapter is chapter four–the mystory. I was immediately intrigued by this assignment when we discussed it in class, and my intrigue has only been reinforced after reading Textbook. The discussion of Barthes’ and fragmented writing–and the call for students to create a similar assignment–is something that I would like to try in my own classroom. My only problem is that this seems like it should take up more than eleven pages of the book (and potentially more than one unit of a semester).

As the authors reveal in their preface-letter to students, this book works under the assumption that “verbal education is a lot like physical education. You build your mind in the same way you build your body: through your own efforts” (xv). And it does take quite a bit of effort to even attempt to engage this Textbook—so much so that its intent often appears the impetus to its inaccessibility. Asking freshman (or even older students being introduced to literary analysis for the first time) to read Barthes, Freud, Derrida, and Joyce is a daunting task that, while ambitious, is often overwhelming. I’m all for a mental workout, but at times Textbook presents a mental-overload. I want so badly to embrace Textbook completely, but I’m apprehensive about its applicability in an intro course. I think the units work wonderfully separately (and perhaps can be adapted to semester long projects) but I think that ultimately the sum of the parts is greater than the whole. And with this critique, I fully concede that maybe that’s the point.

I’m on a roll with trying to get ahead in my work, and I’m posting this as proof that I might actually be capable of that ever-elusive skill of time management.

Rhetoric and Ideology in the Writing Class

James Berlin

 

“It should now be apparent that a way of teaching is never innocent. Every pedagogy is imbricated in ideology, in a set of tacit assumptions about what is real, what is good, what is possible, and how power ought to be distributed” (492).

 

Cognitive Psychology

Ignores the presence of ideology in teaching. The rhetoric here values science and empiricism (banking on perceived static structures like language, matter, and mind). The problem is this rhetoric works to put one class on a pedestal and keep the other below it. Objective truth???? (491)

 

Process rather than Product

 

Standardized Syllabus Assignment #2

How can we drastically change (or just simply alter) this assignment so that we aren’t feeding the system?

 

Expressionist-Rhetoric

Purportedly critiques ideology (of corporate capitalism) and transplants it with another ideology: Individualism. But the values of individualism in this rhetoric are easily co-opted by the very ideology it attempts to resist–appropriation and subordination (491).

 

The Process (the discovery of the true-self) is as important as the product (the self-discovered and expressed)

 

Are peer reviews and conferences the answer to the problem of individual isolation? Does giving students a communal experience (with the chance to resist and maintain self-autonomy) empower students, or simply encourage appropriation (perhaps more relevant to the conference?).

 

Is there a way to encourage individualism and successfully promote community?

 

Social-Epistemic Rhetoric

Purposefully brings ideology to the forefront in the classroom. Provides analysis of dehumanization of the social experience and a self-critical and overtly historicized alternative based on democratic practices in the economic, social, political, and cultural spheres. Thus, it disrupts the social hierarchy of Cognitive Psychology (or attempts to) and offers the community experience that Expressionist Rhetoric doesn’t (491).

 

Multi-Tasking and Interdisciplinary Study

Berlin’s discussion of Ira Shor’s Burger Study (491) is particularly interesting to me. It calls for an interdisciplinary study utilizing: English and Philosophy (reading, writing, conceptual analysis), Economics (commodity relations/market), History and Sociology (assessment of everyday diet), Health Science (nutritional value of the ruling burger) 

A (perhaps) Problematic Example of my Unknowing Attempt to Incorporate Social-Epistemic Assignments: My Super Size Me Unit (note–the only assignment that I ever “illegally” integrated into my previous classrooms—thus disrupting the robotic implementation of the standardized syllabus)

• -We read articles about fast food in our Conversations reader and discuss Economics (employment, poverty, corporate vs. local food, corporate greed, advertising/spending), History and Sociology (how McDonalds has changed from its beginning as a sort of family diner to an assembly-line fast food restaurant), Health and Science (did you know that there are only seven items on the menu that don’t contain sugar? And guess what–salads are loaded with it).
• -We watch Morgan Spurlock’s Super Size Me (1996) which takes up the themes from the articles and adds a few more—Education, Environmental Science, and Animal Rights.
• -PROBLEM ? Students end this unit by writing a comparison/contrast essay that asks them to pick a theme that is evident in both the text and the film and discuss what each text does with that theme. This results in essays that are all alike and have the same structure–Fast food is bad because….

 

What kinds of assignments can we come up with as a class that would work within this unit, and incorporate Social-Epistemic Rhetoric?

I’m posting a rough draft of my first book review (first for this course, and first in general). I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly, and I’m not sure if it’s specific enough. We’ll see how it evolves.

Textbook (2002) is a collaborative work by Greg Ulmer, Robert Sholes, and Nancy Comely that attempts to reinvigorate the static college literature classroom by re-situating literature as text to be written “through” rather than “about” (iii). Specifically intended for use in the Introduction to Literature course—Textbook hopes to inspire both teachers and students to bridge the seemingly ever-extending gap between writing and reading.  Indeed, the book urges that the classroom environment become one of emulation, where learning to write is dependent upon learning to understand how other writers think about writing (and engage in the writing process). However, this Textbook has no place in the traditional banking methodology. Instead it works to bring writers (as readers) to a new understanding of how texts function in an active classroom that depends upon engagement.

In an attempt to reach this new perspective,  Textbook is divided into four chapters that intentionally incorporate inter-disciplinary excerpts in order to prepare students for the multi-disciplinary reading and writing processes necessary to its final (and also intentionally alternative) research assignment—the Mystory. This preparation is predicated on the idea that both teachers and students must embrace the concept of “doing things” with texts, and subsequently each chapter employs questions and writing activities that emphasize active engagement with literature, rather than simple passive readings of it. Chapter One, “Texts as Representation,” works with narrative and drama to make explicit the complex (and often implicit) connections between life experience and text. Chapter Two, “Texts, Thoughts and Things,” asks students to move away from larger concepts like genre to smaller concepts like language—in particular, the metaphor. Chapter Three, “Texts and Other Texts,” builds upon the interdependence of texts, with the hopes that students will be able to build authorial confidence through play with texts. Chapter Four, “Texts and Research: the Mystory,” introduces students to a new form of researched argumentation that promotes the study of literature as a tool for self-reflection: the Mystory.

As the authors reveal in their preface-letter to students, this book works under the assumption that “verbal education is a lot like physical education. You build your mind in the same way you build your body: through your own efforts” (xv). And it does take quite a bit of effort to even attempt to engage this Textbook—so much so that its intent often appears the impetus to its inaccessibility. Asking freshman (or even older students being introduced to literary analysis for the first time) to read Barthes, Freud, Derrida, and Joyce is a daunting task that, while ambitious, is often overwhelming.

I just finished the Harris article and I’m thinking about how I might be able to steal his ideas without committing full-out plagiarism. I’m really intrigued by this idea of revision and comparing/contrasting revisionist texts. Since I’m a big fan of comparing film to literature, this might provide the perfect opportunity for the construction of a new syllabus based on those interests. I’m not completely satisfied with the one I developed for this semester. It would be even better if I could figure out how to do a semester long project that deals with revision. I know Jeff has talked about this in class–but I’m fumbling with ideas that can a) stand the test of the semester and b) keep my interest and the interest of my students.

One thing that I’m a little skeptical of is the self-reflective essay that Harris requires his students to write after each draft. I assign this kind of thing after every paper that my students do as well–with the hopes that they will really engage the assignment and think critically about their own process as a writer. However, some of my students seem very resistant to this kind of writing, and just throw generic comments back my way (perhaps because they don’t usually take to the whole revision thing–just altering a few sentences here and there). How do we get them to engage their own writing and to care about it in the same way that Harris’ students seem to?

Is the answer, as Brooke suggests, to tap into the underlife? I’m still confused as to how to do this without actually reinforcing the “overlife” of the classroom/writing process. I get that the goal is original thought–but does something like this actually even exist? And is there anything to be said about the fact that students do have to adopt identities that might call for thinking that isn’t original? I’m not saying that I’m a proponent of unoriginal thinking, just that I’m not sure there is ever any way to fully bridge that gap. We can certainly take Brooke’s advice to think carefully about identities (ours and theirs), but does thinking carefully actually allow engagement? Things to ponder until next time…..