My students are struggling to write effective detailed descriptions so I’ve been tirelessly creating examples that illustrate how to move from generic, nonspecific to specific, vivid details. They just aren’t getting it. I feel like giving up, but the rest of the course is built on this one basic skill. Advice? Can I do more than this?
They write: She was wearing jeans.
I write: She wore jeans so tight they seemed painted on. The dark wash denim was worn and faded at the knees but not quite threadbare. Bright gold stitching across the back pockets called out, “Look at me! Look at me!” People did look, but they weren’t admiring her pockets. The grip of the fabric started to give way at her knees, and the slightly flared bottoms seemed to add a few inches to her 5’3” frame. The bottoms, having scuffed the ground on one too many outings, were beginning to fray and unravel.
They write: The trees were bare.
I write: Autumn had robbed the majestic oak of its foliage, and its naked limbs pierced the gray winter sky. With its bark exposed, every scar was visible—piercings from a woodpecker’s beak, scratches made by unrecognizable claws, and the initials of young lovers carved inside a lopsided heart. The bark was peeling away from the tops of the lower branches where children’s feet had taken their toll on more than one excursion up into its secret heights.
They write: Adrian was a cute black boy with no facial hair. His skin was so soft that I wanted to kiss his cheek.
I write: Adrian’s skin was dark—not ebony like a native Nigerian but a rich, creamy brown like warm milk chocolate. There was a boyishness in his face that was uncharacteristically inviting. Freshly shaven, his cheeks appeared baby soft, inviting the caress of a hand, a grandmotherly pinch, or an innocent kiss.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Something to Remember
I just Stumbled across "My Favorite Liar," a blog post in which a student discusses his favorite and most memorable teacher, a man who used lying as a strategy to make students pay attention and study. He got their attention. He aroused their curiosity. He intrigued them. I asked myself, "What will students remember me for?" But I didn't have to think too hard.
Earlier today, during a conference with one of my students in which I was supposed to be giving him advice on his research paper, my student proceeded to give me advice about my teaching. "I'll never forget the first day of your class," he told me. "You got everyone's attention and set the tone for the entire semester. Don't ever change that." He went on to discuss several assignments and class periods that had left an impression on him. "When I listen to you in class, I think, 'You teach the way I write,'" he said.
There's a reason for that. I've researched extensively composition theory, writing processes, revision strategies, and a wide range of other writing-related topics. I ditched the formulaic writing instruction that guided me through my own education in favor of more genuine approaches to writing. I teach my students to write like writers. I refer to them as writers, as authors, and I force them to take ownership of their own work. I know that is what another student this semester will remember me for. His writing process, before my class, included writing a draft the night before a paper was due and turning it in the next day. This semester, he has been required to write three or four drafts for every essay assignment. "I'm discovering my writing process!" he exclaimed to me one day earlier this semester. This young man is not someone who has ever considered himself a writer. I don't really know if he would identify with that word today. But he got excited about discovering a process of writing. Why? Because through that process he discovered he can write a hell of lot better than he ever thought possible. He is one of my favorite success stories.
My all-time favorite success story is a woman who signed up for my class a couple years ago. "I can't write." she told me at the beginning of the semester. Many people would have looked at the writing she submitted at the beginning of that semester and written her off as hopeless. She was the only student that semester to earn an A from me, no easy task as anyone who has ever earned an A in one of my courses can confirm. What does she remember? She remembers that I didn't give up on her, that I fought for her, and... that I "scared the shit out of" her on the first day of class with my disorientation.
Some of you who read this blog are familiar with my "Disorientation" on the first day of my freshman writing courses. Some of you are not. I don't walk into class and greet my students. In fact, I ignore them. I don't ask them to introduce themselves (that comes later). I don't launch into a public reading of my syllabus. (What a dreadful way to start a class period, to start a semester. My students are literate. They can read the syllabus on their own. )
So what do I do?
I shut off the lights, log into the computer, and pull up a fast-paced video on YouTube about the power of social media. I crank up the volume, and the techno dance music that accompanies the video pumps through the classroom. "WELCOME TO THE REVOLUTION!" it ends. Immediately following this, I flip on the lights and launch into a five- to ten-minute mini lecture about how the power of language and the power of the internet combined "places unlimited power in the hands of everyday people just like you." It's pretty intense. This semester it garnered applause. Students respond in various ways. Some freak out, thinking they're in the wrong class like the woman I mentioned earlier. Some get obviously excited like the young man who found his writing process. He was the first to applaud. Some get nervous because I subverted all their expectations of what a writing class is supposed to be. I understand. Abandoning one's expectations is no easy task, but having them unexpectedly yanked out from under you can be quite jarring, even scary. Most aren't sure what to think.
But they remember. And that's the point.
I am not arrogant enough to think that my students will leave my class and remember everything they learned. In fact, most will probably lose much of the knowledge and skills they build over the course of the semester. But my disorientation sticks with them. I weave references to the content of that disorientation throughout the semester, through other radically disorienting activities in class and assignments like "shitty first drafts" and "cut and paste" with actual scissors and glue. They might think I'm just some crazy teacher with a weird and unexplainable passion for language. But they'll never forget that I told them that language is the greatest power that exists in the world, and one day life will prove to them that I wasn't crazy after all, I was right.
I work tirelessly to make my courses engaging and memorable. When I reflect over my own education, however, I am disheartened by how few courses, how few teachers left any memorable impression. Some classes were so boring I skipped at least once a week. What's the point of going to class when the teacher just recites the textbook? Some classes failed to stir my curiosity. (It is not the students' job to rouse their own curiosities. It is the teacher's.) Some classes were so easy, I didn't even have to try. These were the biggest disappointments. The teacher didn't even care enough to challenge me.
I would like to ask these teachers, "Why didn't you give me something to remember?" I would like to ask today's teachers, "What will your students remember you for?" Ten years from now, what will you have taught them that is still relevant and meaningful to their lives?
I remember Mrs. Wood who was always shoving a new book in my hands. I remember Mr. Likes who let us jump rope with pig intestines in sophomore bio. I remember senior year when I complained that it wasn't fair that Rochester was dissecting cats in Anatomy and we weren't, not only did he go to the school board and get us cats, he taught an extra, new class for interested students in his free time. I remember Prof. Wheeler, whom I'm lucky enough to now call a colleague, who believed in me when I needed it most, who, in many ways, saved my life. I remember Drs. Ottery, Cordell, Carpenter, and Helton, who inspired me every hour I have spent with them.
The teachers I remember demonstrated empathy for their students everyday. They approached every class period with unbridled passion for the subject and students they taught. They were a little crazy and a whole lot inspiration. They were energetic and creative. They saw my potential and made me see it. More than that, they made me believe in it. That's the kind of teacher I strive to be. Is it so wrong that I think that's the kind of teacher every teacher should strive to be?
Some think my expectations are too high.
I remember Mrs. Wood who was always shoving a new book in my hands. I remember Mr. Likes who let us jump rope with pig intestines in sophomore bio. I remember senior year when I complained that it wasn't fair that Rochester was dissecting cats in Anatomy and we weren't, not only did he go to the school board and get us cats, he taught an extra, new class for interested students in his free time. I remember Prof. Wheeler, whom I'm lucky enough to now call a colleague, who believed in me when I needed it most, who, in many ways, saved my life. I remember Drs. Ottery, Cordell, Carpenter, and Helton, who inspired me every hour I have spent with them.
The teachers I remember demonstrated empathy for their students everyday. They approached every class period with unbridled passion for the subject and students they taught. They were a little crazy and a whole lot inspiration. They were energetic and creative. They saw my potential and made me see it. More than that, they made me believe in it. That's the kind of teacher I strive to be. Is it so wrong that I think that's the kind of teacher every teacher should strive to be?
Some think my expectations are too high.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Are Gen Eds Really as Valuable as We Think They Are?
Reading What Happens When a 35-Year_old Man Retakes the SAT? reminded me what bullshit standardized tests are. If and when I decide to go for a PhD, I'll have to retake the GRE, an obligation that made me want to tear my eyes out and put a bullet through my head the first time around. I hearthe exam has gotten harder and longer. I'm not looking forward to it.
Thinking about standardized tests got me thinking about standardized education, which of course led me to the mos required (and most often dreaded) general education requirements. Now I'm usually the first one to defend gen eds, but I wonder...are they really as valuable as I've let myself be convinced they are?
In COM 111 (the first semester course of my college's freshman writing sequence), my students write their second essay on higher education. I charge them to rebel against some aspect of or belief about higher that they believe needs to change. The two most popular topics are soaring tuition and--you guessed it--gen eds. Every student who has ever written about gen ed requirements has argued to either abolish them or make them discipline-specific (more on that later). They are required to research their opposition (the belief that gen eds are valuable and/or necessary) and interview faculty and staff from a college or university. Most remained unconvinced by opposing arguments and more and more often the faculty they interview agree with them that gen eds are essentially bullshit--a waste of time and money.
After spending the last three years shocked and appalled by college faculty telling my students this, I wonder...Are they right? How much do you actually remember from teh gen ed courses you were required to take? It's only been 11 years since I finished my gen ed requirements, and I remember diddley squat. From an entire semester of Western Civ, I remember that the Spartans were some hard core, bad ass dudes. From Econ 101, I remember that the student worker in the library was hot, so pretending to study in the library was a hell of lot more engaging than going to class. I remember that SPE 101 did not make me any better at public speaking despite acing the course with little effort. (I'm the worst with verbal filler...um, yeah, well, ok...). I remember I was paid to create sample tests as study guides for my bio class, but I don't actually remember anything about biology. In fact, the only courses that left any lasting knowledge in my brain are the writing and literature courses I took, the classes I most enjoyed, the classes directly related to my major. Was you experience any different? I doubt it.
So why did I have to take any of these courses in the first place? What value have they actually had in my life?
The courses I teach are part of the gen ed curriculum. Students don't take writing because they love it. They take it because they have to. I find myself spending most of my time trying to convince students that the skills they will build in my class are not only valuable but necessary to their success in the world. I pitch it as power. Who doesn't want more power in the world? Apparently a lot of people. Most of them just don't buy it, and many who do just don't care.
How do we get students to care about gen eds (that is, if we still think they are necessary and valuable)? I think my students have the answer. Make them discipline specific. What if I had learned history in conjunction with the literature I was reading? What if my political science class investigated politics through 1984? What if my auto tech majors were learning American history through the lens of the auto industry and poli sci through the actual policies that will directly affect their work? What if business majors learned psychology specifically as it relates to dealing with customers and employees? I could go on and on with examples, but I think you get the idea.
Plenty of K-12 schools have adopted integrated curriculums. My daughters middle school did, and the kids loved it. Everything they were learning made more sense because they saw how knowledge and learning is interconnected. And more of what they learned stayed with them because they were being taught according to the ways in which our memories actually function. It's pure science. Why haven't more colleges and universities begun to move in this direction? We're charging students a fortune to earn a degree, a degree they need in order to get a decent-paying job (although even that is not a guarantee anymore). We owe it to them to offer the best education possible. If that education is going to include gen eds, we need to shift toward a more integrated model.
Thinking about standardized tests got me thinking about standardized education, which of course led me to the mos required (and most often dreaded) general education requirements. Now I'm usually the first one to defend gen eds, but I wonder...are they really as valuable as I've let myself be convinced they are?
In COM 111 (the first semester course of my college's freshman writing sequence), my students write their second essay on higher education. I charge them to rebel against some aspect of or belief about higher that they believe needs to change. The two most popular topics are soaring tuition and--you guessed it--gen eds. Every student who has ever written about gen ed requirements has argued to either abolish them or make them discipline-specific (more on that later). They are required to research their opposition (the belief that gen eds are valuable and/or necessary) and interview faculty and staff from a college or university. Most remained unconvinced by opposing arguments and more and more often the faculty they interview agree with them that gen eds are essentially bullshit--a waste of time and money.
After spending the last three years shocked and appalled by college faculty telling my students this, I wonder...Are they right? How much do you actually remember from teh gen ed courses you were required to take? It's only been 11 years since I finished my gen ed requirements, and I remember diddley squat. From an entire semester of Western Civ, I remember that the Spartans were some hard core, bad ass dudes. From Econ 101, I remember that the student worker in the library was hot, so pretending to study in the library was a hell of lot more engaging than going to class. I remember that SPE 101 did not make me any better at public speaking despite acing the course with little effort. (I'm the worst with verbal filler...um, yeah, well, ok...). I remember I was paid to create sample tests as study guides for my bio class, but I don't actually remember anything about biology. In fact, the only courses that left any lasting knowledge in my brain are the writing and literature courses I took, the classes I most enjoyed, the classes directly related to my major. Was you experience any different? I doubt it.
So why did I have to take any of these courses in the first place? What value have they actually had in my life?
The courses I teach are part of the gen ed curriculum. Students don't take writing because they love it. They take it because they have to. I find myself spending most of my time trying to convince students that the skills they will build in my class are not only valuable but necessary to their success in the world. I pitch it as power. Who doesn't want more power in the world? Apparently a lot of people. Most of them just don't buy it, and many who do just don't care.
How do we get students to care about gen eds (that is, if we still think they are necessary and valuable)? I think my students have the answer. Make them discipline specific. What if I had learned history in conjunction with the literature I was reading? What if my political science class investigated politics through 1984? What if my auto tech majors were learning American history through the lens of the auto industry and poli sci through the actual policies that will directly affect their work? What if business majors learned psychology specifically as it relates to dealing with customers and employees? I could go on and on with examples, but I think you get the idea.
Plenty of K-12 schools have adopted integrated curriculums. My daughters middle school did, and the kids loved it. Everything they were learning made more sense because they saw how knowledge and learning is interconnected. And more of what they learned stayed with them because they were being taught according to the ways in which our memories actually function. It's pure science. Why haven't more colleges and universities begun to move in this direction? We're charging students a fortune to earn a degree, a degree they need in order to get a decent-paying job (although even that is not a guarantee anymore). We owe it to them to offer the best education possible. If that education is going to include gen eds, we need to shift toward a more integrated model.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
On 3+ Hour Class Periods
I am finding this semester's COM 112 class to be one of the most enjoyable group of students to have in class. Not all of them want to be part of the group dynamic and participate in discussions, but those who do consistently amaze me with the quality of their ideas and level of critical thinking.
Despite my enjoyment of our time together every Tuesday afternoon, I am finding the 3 hour class period exhausting. If that's true for me, it has to be true for them. So today I did something I rarely do. I cut an activity from my lesson plan and let class out early.
This semester, I am only teaching two days a week. Tuesdays, I teach COM (3-hour block), and Wednesdays I teach LIT (4-hour block). My work on Thursdays and Fridays in the Writing Center is very low-stress and I don't have to spend time prepping for it or grading afterwards. So I like that, despite my other duties on campus, my work week feels over in two days.
I still prefer classes that meet two days per week. This allows me to break up the work of the course in more meaningful ways. We can work on something the first day and revisit it the second when students have had time to think about that week's lesson(s), digest it somewhat and perhaps work with that concept through a homework assignent. For example, I can ask them to write me a shitty draft of an assignment from Tuesday to Thursday, then we can talk about a particular writing strategy on Thursday, and they have five days to revise and refine their draft, implementing that writing strategy as they do so, before the next class period. Meeting only once a week, just doesn't allow for that kind of a process.
For example, today we talked about tone--creating moods and adjusting the level of formality in writing. Students enjoyed the discussion and activities we did in class, but now we have to wait an entire week to revisit how they incorporate this into the two essays they are working on. By then, I can't afford to spend another week on this issue. We need to move on, so they can get started on their research for Essay 3.
I guess the 4-hour block works out nicely for Film as LIT. If this class period were split in two, we'd spend one day most weeks just watching a film. The 4-hour block allows us to watch a film and analyze it while it is still fresh in our minds. Since we spend half of every class period engaged in a relatively enjoyable (more or less so depending on the individual and the film choice that week) activity, the class is doesn't feel as tedious.
I try to break up the monotony in COM by interspersing fun videos with discussions and small group and independent activities. For example, today I used a PowerPoint to guide discussion. In the past, I've given students an electronic handout that was just hypertext. The PowerPoint allowed me more flexibility to create a dynamic discussion aided by illustrative graphics and videos, varying fonts and colors, etc. to generate a little more interest and hopefully excitement than my old, rather traditional text-based handout with a few hyperlinks. After discussion, we had a couple of hands-on activities, more discussion on a new topic, more visual illustrations and discussion. All of these strategies certainly help create a more engaging atmosphere that can withstand three straight hours of intense learning, but it doesn't completely alleviate the tedium, at least not for me.
Despite my enjoyment of our time together every Tuesday afternoon, I am finding the 3 hour class period exhausting. If that's true for me, it has to be true for them. So today I did something I rarely do. I cut an activity from my lesson plan and let class out early.
This semester, I am only teaching two days a week. Tuesdays, I teach COM (3-hour block), and Wednesdays I teach LIT (4-hour block). My work on Thursdays and Fridays in the Writing Center is very low-stress and I don't have to spend time prepping for it or grading afterwards. So I like that, despite my other duties on campus, my work week feels over in two days.
I still prefer classes that meet two days per week. This allows me to break up the work of the course in more meaningful ways. We can work on something the first day and revisit it the second when students have had time to think about that week's lesson(s), digest it somewhat and perhaps work with that concept through a homework assignent. For example, I can ask them to write me a shitty draft of an assignment from Tuesday to Thursday, then we can talk about a particular writing strategy on Thursday, and they have five days to revise and refine their draft, implementing that writing strategy as they do so, before the next class period. Meeting only once a week, just doesn't allow for that kind of a process.
For example, today we talked about tone--creating moods and adjusting the level of formality in writing. Students enjoyed the discussion and activities we did in class, but now we have to wait an entire week to revisit how they incorporate this into the two essays they are working on. By then, I can't afford to spend another week on this issue. We need to move on, so they can get started on their research for Essay 3.
I guess the 4-hour block works out nicely for Film as LIT. If this class period were split in two, we'd spend one day most weeks just watching a film. The 4-hour block allows us to watch a film and analyze it while it is still fresh in our minds. Since we spend half of every class period engaged in a relatively enjoyable (more or less so depending on the individual and the film choice that week) activity, the class is doesn't feel as tedious.
I try to break up the monotony in COM by interspersing fun videos with discussions and small group and independent activities. For example, today I used a PowerPoint to guide discussion. In the past, I've given students an electronic handout that was just hypertext. The PowerPoint allowed me more flexibility to create a dynamic discussion aided by illustrative graphics and videos, varying fonts and colors, etc. to generate a little more interest and hopefully excitement than my old, rather traditional text-based handout with a few hyperlinks. After discussion, we had a couple of hands-on activities, more discussion on a new topic, more visual illustrations and discussion. All of these strategies certainly help create a more engaging atmosphere that can withstand three straight hours of intense learning, but it doesn't completely alleviate the tedium, at least not for me.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Random Thoughts
I really want to start posting here weekly at a minimum. I don't really feel like writing, but I suppose now is as good of a time as any to start up again. I miss the great feedback from my students. So here are some random thoughts...
I registered for the Computers & Writing Conference today. It's exciting to see my name in the presentation schedule. I booked my room and the flight and a rental car. I signed up for a couple of very compelling pre-conference workshops. "Screencap Your Feedback" is a hands-on workshop demonstrating how to use screen capture to respond to student writing. This sounds very time consuming, but I'm thinking that expanding that to screen recording could be an innovative way to "discuss" my students' writing with them instead of writing my comments in the margins with Word's comment feature. It would definitely be something none of their other teachers are doing. My hope would be to engage them more in the revision process. They would all get mini conferences with me (granted, they wouldn't be able to respond immediately) for every essay. Maybe the tone of comments would come through better too. This could be a great tool if I ever decide to try teaching online again.
The other workshop I signed up for scares me a little, but I owe it to my students that are terrified of the new ways I ask them to think about writing to go to this workshop. Hell, I owe it to myself to face the fear. "The Sights and Sounds of ArchiTEXTure: Modeling Multimodal Composition" is another hands-on workshop teaching teachers to compose with audio, video, and images. We'll be experimenting with Google Draw and something called DoInk. I feel lost just thinking about it, but this too offers exciting possibilities for the future of my composition courses. I want my courses to be cutting edge. I may teach at a community college, but that doesn't mean students should be cheated out of cutting edge education. If I want my students to extend themselves beyond their comfort zones in their educations, then I must do the same.
Overall I'm very excited about the conference. I still have a lot of research to do before I even start putting my presentation together, but I'll pull it off. I always do. If you're interested in my presentation "iWrite Cool: Teaching Academic Writing through Conventions of Social Media Discourse," my proposal is just a few entries back. The center of my research is work by Jeff Rice who conceptualized the idea of the "rhetoric of cool." I'm hoping to extend his definition of that in some way.
On another note, I have three applications out for full-time positions. With gas prices rising the way they are, I don't know if I could take two of them, which would require me to drive 40-90 minutes to work everyday. I'm putting all my hope into the one at LLCC. I love that school, I love my students, and I really think I can make (have been making) a positive impact around campus.
I have a few teaching observations coming up--two in COM, one in LIT. I've never been observed in LIT before, so I'm a little nervous, but I'm really happy with the way that class is going. A couple students who were performing below expectations dropped, which means almost everyone left is in the A/B range or should be by the end of the semester.
COM is going well too. I think most everyone is still nervous about my system, but if they just invest themselves in doing the best they can, they should all be fine. So many are so resistant to radical new ideas about teaching and learning. How can they just want more of the same education they've been bitching about since grade school? I try to share things with them that catch my attention. I read part of an article from The Chronicle to them before spring break about Jeff Groom's digital storytelling class where the students really drive the course by writing the assignments each other will complete. A few students thought that was an awesome idea. The others sat in silence and would barely even raise their hands to vote on yes/no questions.
How do I get them excited? How do I get them to care? How do I get them to see how important their educations are to their futures? How do I get them to see that they're wasting it? How do I get them to see that the system itself is wasting their hard-earned tuition dollars on outdated, meaningless education? How do I get them to demand more of themselves, more of their teachers, more of their educations?
Maybe one day I'll figure it out, the secret formula to make the drones our public schools turn out wake up and give a damn that they're being programmed to not care. I know, I know, it's easy not to care. I'm asking them to work, and not just work, but work hard. Someday. Until then, I'll just keep trying every possible thing I can think of. A few get it, and that's enough...for now.
I'm thinking of giving my COM 111 students choices from a variety of assignments I've done in the past. Two essays for the entire semester, but they have to revise once a week until each essay is at least a B. I would think that could be very motivating to get students to invest themselves if the reward is they can finish the course early. I'd miss the better-prepared writers, but it would allow me to focus more attention on the less experienced writers who need more feedback. Something to think about anyway.
While spring break has all but killed my drive, I do look forward to getting back in the classroom. There's an energy in teaching, in reaching to the bottom of myself to put everything I've got into trying to motivate my students that I feed off of. There's no momentum to spring break. I feel drained, not rested. Maybe it's just because my daughter broke my heart for the first time today. Ah, teenagers. :/
I registered for the Computers & Writing Conference today. It's exciting to see my name in the presentation schedule. I booked my room and the flight and a rental car. I signed up for a couple of very compelling pre-conference workshops. "Screencap Your Feedback" is a hands-on workshop demonstrating how to use screen capture to respond to student writing. This sounds very time consuming, but I'm thinking that expanding that to screen recording could be an innovative way to "discuss" my students' writing with them instead of writing my comments in the margins with Word's comment feature. It would definitely be something none of their other teachers are doing. My hope would be to engage them more in the revision process. They would all get mini conferences with me (granted, they wouldn't be able to respond immediately) for every essay. Maybe the tone of comments would come through better too. This could be a great tool if I ever decide to try teaching online again.
The other workshop I signed up for scares me a little, but I owe it to my students that are terrified of the new ways I ask them to think about writing to go to this workshop. Hell, I owe it to myself to face the fear. "The Sights and Sounds of ArchiTEXTure: Modeling Multimodal Composition" is another hands-on workshop teaching teachers to compose with audio, video, and images. We'll be experimenting with Google Draw and something called DoInk. I feel lost just thinking about it, but this too offers exciting possibilities for the future of my composition courses. I want my courses to be cutting edge. I may teach at a community college, but that doesn't mean students should be cheated out of cutting edge education. If I want my students to extend themselves beyond their comfort zones in their educations, then I must do the same.
Overall I'm very excited about the conference. I still have a lot of research to do before I even start putting my presentation together, but I'll pull it off. I always do. If you're interested in my presentation "iWrite Cool: Teaching Academic Writing through Conventions of Social Media Discourse," my proposal is just a few entries back. The center of my research is work by Jeff Rice who conceptualized the idea of the "rhetoric of cool." I'm hoping to extend his definition of that in some way.
On another note, I have three applications out for full-time positions. With gas prices rising the way they are, I don't know if I could take two of them, which would require me to drive 40-90 minutes to work everyday. I'm putting all my hope into the one at LLCC. I love that school, I love my students, and I really think I can make (have been making) a positive impact around campus.
I have a few teaching observations coming up--two in COM, one in LIT. I've never been observed in LIT before, so I'm a little nervous, but I'm really happy with the way that class is going. A couple students who were performing below expectations dropped, which means almost everyone left is in the A/B range or should be by the end of the semester.
COM is going well too. I think most everyone is still nervous about my system, but if they just invest themselves in doing the best they can, they should all be fine. So many are so resistant to radical new ideas about teaching and learning. How can they just want more of the same education they've been bitching about since grade school? I try to share things with them that catch my attention. I read part of an article from The Chronicle to them before spring break about Jeff Groom's digital storytelling class where the students really drive the course by writing the assignments each other will complete. A few students thought that was an awesome idea. The others sat in silence and would barely even raise their hands to vote on yes/no questions.
How do I get them excited? How do I get them to care? How do I get them to see how important their educations are to their futures? How do I get them to see that they're wasting it? How do I get them to see that the system itself is wasting their hard-earned tuition dollars on outdated, meaningless education? How do I get them to demand more of themselves, more of their teachers, more of their educations?
Maybe one day I'll figure it out, the secret formula to make the drones our public schools turn out wake up and give a damn that they're being programmed to not care. I know, I know, it's easy not to care. I'm asking them to work, and not just work, but work hard. Someday. Until then, I'll just keep trying every possible thing I can think of. A few get it, and that's enough...for now.
I'm thinking of giving my COM 111 students choices from a variety of assignments I've done in the past. Two essays for the entire semester, but they have to revise once a week until each essay is at least a B. I would think that could be very motivating to get students to invest themselves if the reward is they can finish the course early. I'd miss the better-prepared writers, but it would allow me to focus more attention on the less experienced writers who need more feedback. Something to think about anyway.
While spring break has all but killed my drive, I do look forward to getting back in the classroom. There's an energy in teaching, in reaching to the bottom of myself to put everything I've got into trying to motivate my students that I feed off of. There's no momentum to spring break. I feel drained, not rested. Maybe it's just because my daughter broke my heart for the first time today. Ah, teenagers. :/
Monday, December 5, 2011
Facebooking It!
For a long time, I have been adamant that I would not use facebook for classroom instruction. While I do accept student friend requests and maintain a page for Xtreme Writing that students can like and follow on facebook, I have felt strongly that facebook's purpose is not formal instruction. I do post a lot on both my personal and Xtreme Writing page about teaching and writing, but I do not teach, at least not in any formal way, on facebook. Like my students, I use facebook for primarily personal reasons. I don't particularly like it when the few students who have friended me send me class-related messages or attempt to monopolize my free time by holding conferences about essays or homework via chat. Facebook is my space. (lol)
However, I have decided to bring facebook into my teaching at least for a trial run. Beginning next semester, I will set up either a group or a page for each of the courses I teach. Use of and interaction on this page will not be a required part of the class, but it will provide students an informal space to connect with their classmates in order to help each other with questions about assignments, post class notes, or chat with each other in a semi-private setting. I want to remain mostly out of the scene, but I have considered making myself available via the chat feature of group pages for virtual office hours.
My hope is to create a stronger sense of community and help my students see the limitless possibilities for using the technology most of them use everyday to enhance other areas of their lives. I also want them to see that we learn everywhere, not just in the classroom. I fully support my college's mission of lifelong learning. I practice it myself, and I hope to instill that philosophy in my students. But I don't want them taking classes forever--unless, like me, they need to avoid student loan payments. No, I want them to see that knowledge and creativity are everywhere if we are open to the possibilities all around us.
I'm not sure how many students will actually utilize the facebook page for the course. I hope that many of them do. I would think that since most of them are already on facebook, they would be more likely to use a class facebook group than the currently unused discussion forums I have set up on Blackboard for some of my classes. Blackboard isn't a place students go to hang out. Facebook is. I want my students to have a place where they can hang out together. Even if they don't use the page for helping each other with homework or working on group projects, I would consider my experiment a success if they just got together to share links, watch YouTube videos, and chat. The sense of community they might build would certainly have positive effects that would carry over into the classroom. They would be more likely to engage in discussion with each other, contradict each other's ideas, and work productively in small groups.
At this point, I'd rather set up groups than pages. The groups feature has a unique chat option where all online members of the group can chat privately with each other. The only problem is that it appears I can only add friends to a group page, and I don't want all of my students adding me as a friend in order to participate in this. They wouldn't like that either. I would also want to automatically add all my students to the group. Of course, they could remove themselves if they wanted to, but the initial add is the step most of them would likely be hesitant to take--some out of a lack of desire to participate, others out of laziness or apathy. But if they were already added to the group and started getting notifications of group activity, I think they would be much more likely to join in.
I will be researching my options over winter break, and hopefully I come up with some viable solutions. All I can do is try it and wait to see what happens. I must admit, though, I have high hopes and will disappointed if I don't get positive results.
However, I have decided to bring facebook into my teaching at least for a trial run. Beginning next semester, I will set up either a group or a page for each of the courses I teach. Use of and interaction on this page will not be a required part of the class, but it will provide students an informal space to connect with their classmates in order to help each other with questions about assignments, post class notes, or chat with each other in a semi-private setting. I want to remain mostly out of the scene, but I have considered making myself available via the chat feature of group pages for virtual office hours.
My hope is to create a stronger sense of community and help my students see the limitless possibilities for using the technology most of them use everyday to enhance other areas of their lives. I also want them to see that we learn everywhere, not just in the classroom. I fully support my college's mission of lifelong learning. I practice it myself, and I hope to instill that philosophy in my students. But I don't want them taking classes forever--unless, like me, they need to avoid student loan payments. No, I want them to see that knowledge and creativity are everywhere if we are open to the possibilities all around us.
I'm not sure how many students will actually utilize the facebook page for the course. I hope that many of them do. I would think that since most of them are already on facebook, they would be more likely to use a class facebook group than the currently unused discussion forums I have set up on Blackboard for some of my classes. Blackboard isn't a place students go to hang out. Facebook is. I want my students to have a place where they can hang out together. Even if they don't use the page for helping each other with homework or working on group projects, I would consider my experiment a success if they just got together to share links, watch YouTube videos, and chat. The sense of community they might build would certainly have positive effects that would carry over into the classroom. They would be more likely to engage in discussion with each other, contradict each other's ideas, and work productively in small groups.
At this point, I'd rather set up groups than pages. The groups feature has a unique chat option where all online members of the group can chat privately with each other. The only problem is that it appears I can only add friends to a group page, and I don't want all of my students adding me as a friend in order to participate in this. They wouldn't like that either. I would also want to automatically add all my students to the group. Of course, they could remove themselves if they wanted to, but the initial add is the step most of them would likely be hesitant to take--some out of a lack of desire to participate, others out of laziness or apathy. But if they were already added to the group and started getting notifications of group activity, I think they would be much more likely to join in.
I will be researching my options over winter break, and hopefully I come up with some viable solutions. All I can do is try it and wait to see what happens. I must admit, though, I have high hopes and will disappointed if I don't get positive results.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Computers & Writing Proposal
This is probably the fourth or fifth completely rewritten draft of my proposal for the Computers & Writing Conference. Proposals are due by the Oct. 22, but I really want to get mine in at least a couple of days early. If you have any feedback on content or presentation, I'd love to here your comments.
iWrite Cool:
Teaching Academic Writing through Conventions of Social Media Discourse
Up until this semester, I, like many of my colleagues, have taught students how to write for the web via the conventions of academic discourse. After four years’ teaching this way, I’ve concluded that this approach is backwards. The way to bridge the gap between the language of the academy and that of the Web is not by beginning with academic discourse. By merging conventions of electronic discourses with those of the academy we can more effectively teach students both communication styles.
Students don’t understand academic discourse. Their daily reading and writing are more grounded in the conventions of social media discourse. They recognize the value of hyperlinks. They don’t question Twitter’s citation style. They understand the ways in which images and symbols, communicate meaning. They understand the concept of audience because they are constantly adjusting the privacy settings on their facebook statuses. They don’t understand how MLA citation works or why they must adhere to its standards instead of just linking to a source, they don’t understand how to create mood in their writing without the symbols they’ve come to rely on, and they have a hard time imagining that they are writing to anyone other than their teacher or classmates.
When we talk about “cool” writing, cool cannot merely be the subject of the writing classroom nor the location where writing takes place; cool should be the very means by which we compose. This enhances the effectiveness of both our teaching and our writing.
Students don’t understand academic discourse. Their daily reading and writing are more grounded in the conventions of social media discourse. They recognize the value of hyperlinks. They don’t question Twitter’s citation style. They understand the ways in which images and symbols, communicate meaning. They understand the concept of audience because they are constantly adjusting the privacy settings on their facebook statuses. They don’t understand how MLA citation works or why they must adhere to its standards instead of just linking to a source, they don’t understand how to create mood in their writing without the symbols they’ve come to rely on, and they have a hard time imagining that they are writing to anyone other than their teacher or classmates.
When we talk about “cool” writing, cool cannot merely be the subject of the writing classroom nor the location where writing takes place; cool should be the very means by which we compose. This enhances the effectiveness of both our teaching and our writing.
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