Monday, February 14, 2011

English (or is it Engfish) 101?

When I saw this week’s theme was “Basic Writers,” I was excited for what our theorists were going to say about the topic. My “lower level” English classes were my most challenging, especially the writing instruction. Our junior English classes were divided into Honors, College Prep, General, and Low Level sections. Of course, all new teachers were assigned to the low level courses, the administration not so wisely giving the most challenging section to the least experienced teacher. The aim of the writing instruction in the low level course was to help the students score in the proficient category on the PSSA writing test. Unfortunately, as Mike Rose asserts in “The Language of Excursion,” “when in doubt or when scared or when pressed, (we) count.” The pressure was to get the students’ writing to the point where it would pass as proficient based on the PSSA writing rubric. Although the rubric is not all about conventions and counting errors, it still proves to be a “way out,” an easy method for objectively judging student writing.

As Deborah Mutnick states in “On the Academic Margins,” the “national mania for standards and assessment” does certainly complicate the debate over the best way to proceed with basic writing instruction. Mutnick says teachers are faced with a dilemma: “everyday work of teaching is shaped by institutional and political forces rather than by student needs.” I think this sums up what is happening when teachers are pressured to help students pass a test rather than to help students become better writers. In my school, if we failed to provide adequate instruction to help students pass the PSSA writing test, they were placed in remediation (this word now has a whole new meaning to me after reading Rose’s article). We were told to use the threat of remediation, endless drills and virtual workbook exercises in the computer lab, during senior year study period as a tool to get students to care about the writing test. Even if I had threatened burning at the stake as a punishment, many students still would not have passed. It was true that some had just given up on writing and didn’t try, but more often students just didn’t know how to write at a proficient level no matter how hard they tried. And I had not been adequately prepared in how to teach them to write, so we were stuck in a circle of continually disappointing each other.
Unfortunately, teachers are faced with political pressures of "teaching to the test" and cannot always do what they think is actually best for their students.
Although the articles we read this week were geared towards college writing instruction, I did find that much of it also applied to the problems I encountered in my secondary basic writing courses. I felt that these students were at a disservice by being separated from their peers based on ability. In Mutnick’s article, she quotes Peter Dow Adams, who was questioning “the benefit of homogenous classes.” Adams said the message we are sending is “We don’t expect you to be able to write well.” My “remedial” students definitely felt this way; they continually repeated to me, “I don’t know how to write. That’s why I’m in here.” This was the go-to excuse when I confronted students who would respond to writing prompts by slumping into their chairs and pouting rather than even attempting to write. I really enjoyed the idea of the “Studio” that Mutnick presents as an alternative to basic writing. I am usually drawn to ideas that are outside of what Mutnick calls “traditional educational frameworks.” However, I’m not sure how this idea could translate into a secondary classroom.

Another issue that was repeatedly mentioned in this week’s readings was the debate over how and to what extent grammar instruction should be included in basic writing courses. Sondra Perl’s “study of unskilled college writers” was mentioned in Mutnick’s article. This study “showed how overattention to editing undermined (students’) ability to compose fluently.” This stood out to me because I saw this all the time in my basic writing classes. Students were so afraid of making errors that they would freeze even in the early stages of writing. Actually, this fear of errors was present in my college prep sections as well. I am definitely on the side of those who believe that “correct writing” does not always equal “good writing.” I had to laugh at some of the research Rose describes that was concerned with “the particulars of language” and “listing and tabulating error.” I especially enjoyed Luella Cole Pressey’s research that concluded in the advice to divide up the “mastery of rules” between grades 2 and 12, with “an average of 4.4 rules to be mastered per year.” I was happy to see that there were pioneers like David Bartholomae who “helped shift the emphasis of instruction from grammatical to rhetorical concerns.”
Come on, lighten up. Not all grammar mistakes are going to end with such dire consequences.
However, that is about all I found sensible in Bartholomae’s position on basic writing. In his article, “Inventing the University,” he says that in order for students to succeed in college-level writing, they must “speak in the voice and through the codes of those of us with power and wisdom.” Maybe I’m not understanding him, but it seems that he is actually suggesting we not only embrace what Macrorie called “Engfish,” but that we should teach our students how to write in this way, to mimic the language of “the privileged community.” I thought we were trying to help students find their own voice in order to write effectively. He even says we should convince basic writing students that “it is better to write muddier and more confusing prose (in order that it may sound like ours).” Again, if I am missing something, please comment. But, I can’t imagine that simply mimicking what students think is “academic discourse” will help them to write better. It seems like Bartholomae is taking the stance of “If you can’t beat them, join them.” If writing in your own voice with your own cultural influences won’t help you in college, then pretend to be someone you’re not, and join the “privileged” by attempting to copy their voice and style. Although none of the articles solve the problem of basic writing, I enjoyed reading about its history and the many different viewpoints and theories that discuss its pros and cons.

2 comments:

  1. I really enjoyed reading your post!
    A few comments:
    1) "Even if I had threatened burning at the stake as a punishment, many students still would not have passed."

    Your statement, here, is powerful because you point directly to a problem of motivation. We seem to think that motivating teachers to teach or students to write involves an aspect of "fear." Do this--or else! Teach--or else! Learn--or else! The motivation to perform is not directly related to the student. I remember having a conversation with a room of students while I was a substitute for a day of PSSA testing. As a collective, the group had no clue truly WHY they were taking these tests. For me to say: "Well, the state needs to know whether or not your school should be provided with funding based upon your level of performance" just sounds silly. Like they care. But again, with the guises of fear-tactics motivation, tell me how we can yield a positive product? How can we expect anything BUT test takers/test thinkers when we're too scared to let any other kind of learning occur?

    2) "My “remedial” students definitely felt this way; they continually repeated to me, “I don’t know how to write. That’s why I’m in here.”

    Mike Rose, in his book "Lives on the Boundary" addresses this issue of labeling students more in depth. I was intrigued by the model offered in the readings--to incorporate small seminar instruction (homogeneous groups) to reg instruction courses with a heterogeneous population. I understand the benefit of both claims, as my HS teaching experience demonstrated that having at-risk students in a class with high performing students was a fun/challenging/eye-opening experience. In fact, I loved the class with the at-risk (another label, I know) students because having such a unique diversity to the class introduced an extra layer of depth to course material and peer interaction. This makes me think about the same equation and how having a "diverse" grouping of students would effect the writing process. Help it? Hurt it? I bet we could argue both.

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  2. I just finished subbing a four day stint. One of the other English teachers was telling me the only writing the kids do is respond to open-ended prompts (PSSA style). I was floored. And we wonder why they are not motivated?

    Back when I was in the classroom, the PSSAs were just starting to gain strength. They hadn't trickled down to the lower grades yet, but we were concerned about what they would do to instruction and curriculum. As I get back into the field, I can see we were right to be concerned.

    I'm looking at error now. I'm still very much in favor of grammatical instruction, but I think it can come from the writing--not be separate of it. Same with mechanics and conventions. I read one of Jeff Anderson's books, Mechanically Inclined, that showed how to use good writing as a way to teach good writing. Rather than have students look at sentences with errors and try to correct them, he instead advocates giving students lots of example of a particular skill and have them discover (with guidance) how to do something--have them find what works. It was an interesting read, and I thought of it when reading about error and ways to look at it when teaching writing.

    I, too, would love to implement true writing workshop techniques and other "out of the box" ideas, but as you mentioned, it's hard sometimes to see how to do that when classroom structure dictates otherwise. A dilemma for sure . . . oh to win the lottery and open my own school!

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