Ultimately, I think—and the standards emphasize this in the document—that implementation comes down to the state and local level, and if the committees charged with writing curriculum ask themselves the hard questions and spend the time to reflect on what is best for students, the end product is going to be strong. That has been my experience.
As far as Bauerlein’s concerns about literature selections being
limited in the English classroom, let me explain why this is not a concern if
the standards are implemented effectively.
In addition, to be blunt, this appears to be just another manifestation
of the divide that has happened the past 25 years or so in English departments
between literature and rhetoric and composition professors.
It is common practice for these
types of assignments to deal with theme analysis, or aspects of characterization. For example, a typical paper on Orwell’s Animal Farm might examine the theme of
“absolute power corrupts absolutely” or a character analysis of how Napoleon is
different than, say, Snowball. To not
completely dismiss these types of assignments, because I think within the right
context they do have merit, I do think it is necessary for us, as teachers, to
examine our goals behind writing instruction and whether or not the types of
assignments we are assigning actually meet our goals.
I’m beginning to see this kind of
decontextualized assigning of textual analysis as a problem.
When teaching literary analysis, I
would much rather have analysis paired with other pieces of criticism so that
students continue to refine the skill of blending multiple texts into a
cohesive reading of a single text. Isn't
this what literary criticism actually looks like?
However, on the one hand, I think
it is still necessary to teach students how to answer these types of writing prompts—although
it appears to be an act of futility, at times—because they are so prevalent on
the AP Literature and Language exams.
But, on the other hand, I tend to agree with much of what Gerald Graff
says in his article, “The Unbearable Pointlessness of Literature Writing Assignments.” It has been my experience that students
really struggle with the switch from a single text analysis to a synthesis
essay, where they are asked to juggle multiple perspectives/sources and enter
the conversation with a well written thesis that summarizes—as Graff’s book, They Say/I Say, explains—what the
opposition thinks compared to what the student thinks.
So, what follows are some things
I’m working through about how the teaching of writing and assigning of writing
have to happen in tandem. How we have to
be intentional about the sequencing of our assignments and explicitly teach the
skills students need to write well.
For example, if a goal is to
improve students’ writing, we need to examine what it is that we teach, and we
need to create assignments that naturally allow us to guide students through the
writing process—see Newman’s posts on Donald Murray—while also finding ways to introduce students to the
nuances involved in writing: specifically, the relationship between an author
and his/her audience. This is something
that many students have little or no awareness of, mainly because they are used
to writing literary analysis papers to an imaginary audience or simply to the
teacher. So, the question presents
itself, what should we teach our students?
A good response to a question, as
our students so adamantly protest against, is often another question. So, I’ll answer the above question with
another question: if our goal is to make students better writers, what is the
best way to go about accomplishing this?
I propose that the answer lies at
the foundation of our pedagogy.
Unfortunately, we often teach certain content with no idea as to why we
are teaching it. But, if we are going to
have this conversation about actually improving student writing, it is crucial
to build our pedagogy around core ideas.
I am arguing that writing
instruction, or rhetoric, or composition, or 21st century writing,
or whatever name we want to give it, should be grounded in core principles
echoing Quintilian’s ideas of rhetoric, which were influenced by
Cicero and Isocrates’ ideas about rhetoric.
Having an understanding of where rhetorical studies comes from—the
historical emphasis on the teaching tradition of such studies—is necessary to
forming solid pedagogy for how we are going to continue rhetorical instruction
in our own classrooms.
For Quintilian, writing
instruction is crucial. In his book, On the Teaching of Speaking and Writing, he states, “Writing itself is of
the utmost importance of our studies, and by it alone sure proficiency, resting
on the deepest roots, is secured” (17).
In other words, it is through writing that students are able to learn
the importance of negotiating between what needs to be said and who it needs to
be said to. This is especially
significant in our modern context, where students are communicating less and
less orally and more and more through writing.
Even though Quintilian’s curriculum is designed to educate people who
will be, most likely, communicating orally in the public sphere, his principles
are still significant for our writing focused culture (17). One goal we should still have is to prepare
students to be able to perform appropriately in the public sphere. Although, currently, it appears that that
performance will mostly be through writing and not speaking.
Quintillian even clarifies the relationship
between speaking, writing, and reading:
In truth they [speaking, writing, and reading] are all so connected, so inseparably linked with one another, that it [sic] any one of them is neglected, we labor in vain in the other two—for our speech will never become forcible and energetic unless it acquires strength from great practice in writing; and the labor of writing, if left destitute of models from reading, passes away without effect, as having no director. (125)
He moves the discussion
of literacy [speaking, writing, and reading] toward the concept of “habits of mind” (125).
This idea of creating
habits for students to draw from is a crucial pedagogical move. Basically, instruction needs to happen in a
way that allows students to take the skills that they have learned through
their studies and be comfortable applying and adapting those same tools to new
situations, as they come up.
Quintilian offers a few
assignments for students to practice in order to build habits of mind. First, he explains that students need to read
the best authors so that they can get an idea for how they should put their own
words together; basically, this is practice in imitation with the purpose of
eventually applying the learned eloquence to one’s own work. Another assignment that Quintilian gives for
students to begin to build habits of the mind is to examine both sides of a
question. This exercise is great because
it trains students to look at multiple angles of an issue, not simply focusing
in on their own side while disregarding the significance of other points of
view (129-130). This exercise helps
build habits of mind because students learn to look at multiple solutions and
be able to argue the merits and faults with each; this way, when the moment
calls for action, hopefully the student will be trained enough to make a strong
case for an issue by supporting his/her argument and finding flaws in other
arguments.
Currently, Newman and I are doing
an assignment with our rhetoric students where they have to pick a topic on New York Times’ “Room for Debate." Then, students read
the conversation, create a thesis that allows them to enter the conversation by
writing a paper that examines the varying perspectives, and offers up their own
take on the issue. Also, by close
reading the perspectives on the issue, students are able to see how experts on
the issue write, which I believe improves how they write about the issue.
If students are exposed to other
good writers, they will see how authors manipulate language to make solid
arguments. As well, if students are
asked to examine multiple sides of an issue, they will hopefully see the nuance
involved in argument construction, beginning to form habits for how to approach
any given issue and argue that issue to any given audience. This is a place where I think single text
analysis has merit. Why not have
students analyze the sources they plan on using in a paper? By doing this, they should gain a better
appreciation for how the sources are constructed and where they agree/disagree
with each other.
Through these kinds of activities
students will necessarily begin to see a need for audience awareness, as well
as a need to construct arguments using the best types of evidence, depending on
each particular case. These need to be
the type of practices we are teaching to students in our classrooms. This notion appears to echo Aristotle’s ideas about rhetoric: “Let rhetoric be [defined as] an ability, in each
[particular] case, to see the available means of persuasion” (37). In
other words, for Aristotle, there is a finite, set amount of “means” that carry
about persuasion, and it is the rhetor’s job to use them. This difference is essential to Aristotle’s
view of the relationship between an author and his/her audience. In fact, Aristotle argues, “Since the whole
business of rhetoric is with opinion, one should pay attention to delivery....
[Delivery] has great power, as has been said, because of the corruption of the
audience” (29). Aristotle is making the
case that persuasion is wholly on the rhetor and that the audience’s
relationship to that rhetor is unimportant, as long as the rhetor is utilizing
the “means of persuasion.”
However, the point that I want to
stress is that Quintilian’s work emphasizes the importance of context. That is, students will learn to be flexible
with their writing, not just utilizing a set of skills that according to
Aristotle can be used in any given context.
The point that Aristotle appears to not be concerned with is, in fact,
audience awareness. Aristotle misses the
mark here. The focus of our instruction
needs to shift from philosophical ideas about what should be taught, with the
hopes that students will simply find ways to apply these concepts to “all”
contexts of writing, to a more contextualized instruction. Students need to be exposed to
multiple genres of writing in multiple contexts, so that they learn the options that they have in composing, while paying special attention to the
relationship between a writer and his/her audience.
We should see writing as
rhetorical. To echo back to the
beginning of this post, decontextualized literary analysis is missing this
point. If it were situated as responding
to what others have said about the text under consideration, I think it would
make much more sense.
To wrap up here, Quintilian
argues for the necessity to have students examine what each particular
situation requires. It is through this
active engagement with a situation
that calls for an understanding of the
specific situation. Quintilian explains
that we must teach our students to pay attention to the context of a situation
in order to understand it; if this is understood, a writer will be able to move
his/her audience to action.
We want students to be able to take what they learn and be able to apply
it “in the moment” in various contexts.
Wouldn't it be great if students got to a point where they had knowledge
of the situation, the audience they are addressing, and the types of moves they
can make with their text in order to communicate effectively to that audience?
It is not my intention in this post to diminish the teaching of
literature. I believe that students
should be exposed to great books, but I just think the issue is more
complicated than arguing about the merits of literature over nonfiction, as
Bauerlein does.
In a sense, I am asking that we respond to this situation in a Ciceronian
or Quintilian manner: that is, we need to examine the situation and find the
best course of action—the same thing that we are hoping to teach our students
to do.
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