Take a Chance for the Students

For years I have encountered students in my remedial-level courses who I know will feel like they are wasting their time after about a month. When I am teaching the college-level course in the same term, I encourage them to sign up for that class instead. However, I am always afraid to turn them loose on another instructor because I fear that instructor will see where they are and not where they can be.

Even at the community college level, we are “tracking” students. It’s crazy! I believe they have a right to succeed and fail any course they want. They are paying for it. It’s their right. But maybe, just maybe we can stop tracking these students and tell them to take the college-level composition course. Maybe sometimes they will have to take it again. Maybe sometimes they will surprise us and pass, or even get an A in the course.

For about fifteen years, I worked with developmentally disabled adults. As a direct care worker, I remember once telling a physical therapist that if she adapted a walker for one of the residents so that she could hold it with one hand, “Sue” could walk independently. This PT had worked with Sue for years; I had worked with her for months. Who was I to make that recommendation? I was someone who saw Sue for her potential, not her limitations. Eventually, Sue had a walker and at the very least she would have it next to her and could reach for it when she needed to get up. She was nonverbal and this was a way for her not only to increase her independence in mobility, it also helped us know when she need to use the restroom, wanted a drink or something to eat, or maybe just wanted to go somewhere else in the house. Before the walker, even if she stood on her own to transition into her chair, she had to rely on us to push her somewhere. But how could we know where to push her?

I can also recall a time in a vocational workshop when a client required one-to-one staffing to “keep him out of trouble.” As the Director of the facility, I called a meeting with the psychologist, case manager, home manager, nurse, etc. I explained that “Mike” was sent home several times again this month because he was physically attacking the other clients in the program. The case manager had threatened to remove him from the program. I called her bluff and told her I couldn’t agree more. Again, I was the new kid on the block having only recently taken the position. I admitted that our staff had failed Mike. They should find another program for him and not provide one-to-one staffing for him. He needs to be more challenged. I followed up with the home manager a few months later and she indicated that it was the best thing they could have done for him. He was successful in small group settings once again.

I realize these are not writing course examples, but they still illustrate my point. We need to admit when we have failed our students. We need to lift the limitations. We need to give students a chance to succeed. They will surprise some of us.

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Where Does the Responsibility Lie?

If I had a teacher like Will Brown for chemistry as described in Schoenbach and Greenleaf’s “Fostering Adolescents’ Engaged Academic Literacy,” I might have actually taken it at some point in high school or college. Instead, I shied away from challenging course like chemistry because I feared not succeeding. Brown not only taught the content material for chemistry, more importantly, he taught text-based problem-solving skills his students could take into any classroom. From the first day, he creates a learning atmosphere that acknowledges the students will not know the answers all the time, and that’s okay.

By modeling for the students how to read complicated chemistry articles, the students learn more than just chemistry. They learn how to “(1) clarify any confusing words or ideas, (2) ask questions that come to mind about the science, and (3) summarize as he read before moving on” (102). I would imagine that many chemistry teachers would balk at the notion of teaching metacognitive reading strategies. After all, how is that their responsibility? Who should teach it?

Summary: “The Thirty-Eight-or-So Five-Paragraph Essay (The Dagwood)” by Alfredao Celedon Lujan

Lujan discusses how the five-paragraph essay is what we teach and use to assess, but our texts use five-paragraph essays that are sometimes forty-two paragraphs long. From the time students walk into his class, Lujan reminds them their “paper has been in process their whole lives” (143) because as they are experiencing life they are developing their perspective, voice, and story.

Drawing on Vigotsky’s “zone of proximal development” (142) and a Dagwood, “multilayered sandwiches that Dagwood Bumstead, from the comic strip Blondie, was fond of” (149), Lujan proposes the student start by gathering the inside of a sandwich and build out from there. Much like White, Lujan believes that the five-paragraph essay does not promote creativity and reflection. Instead, the students feel compelled to follow a formula that they won’t necessarily use later.

This pastiche does not adhere to one genre. Yet, ultimately it still has a “middle (of course), beginning, and end” (153). This assignment requires the student to reflect on what they have written or considered before and how it fits now. Lujan even includes a sample pastiche that includes an introduction of the author, actual quiz questions and answers from the course, lyrics, reflective journal entries and more. Of course, there was also a short concluding paragraph to signal the end and summarize the semester’s work. Honestly, the pastiche seemed quite disjointed.

Summary: “My Five-Paragraph Theme Theme” by Edward M. White

Without citing literacy theory, White discusses how the five-paragraph essay stifles the development of writers. He concedes that the five-paragraph essay is a great way for students to develop some sort of organizational structure but with that comes a student applying a formula rather than truly writing, or more importantly, becoming a writer.

He suggests that we have students “spend some time with narrative structures that respond to assignments calling for telling about a personal experience and what it means to the writer—and, possibly, the reader” (140). Through this approach the student should then be able to indicate the reasons in a more compelling manner. Other writing strategies should be mastered and incorporated too such as compare/contrast because at least this strategy would force the writer to consider more than just getting a good grade through illustration.

White is not suggesting that we abandon the five-paragraph essay. Instead we should approach how we teach it for what it is, a way to pass essay tests. After mastering that, we need to teach them to be writers.

Summary: “College-Level Writing and the Liberal Arts Tradition” by Edward M. White

First, White acknowledges that college-level writing is sometimes and sometimes not happening in college. And sometimes it’s happening in high school. White challenges the readers of this book to truly consider “What characteristics clearly must be present in writing for us to call it college level?” (296). It’s not just or always in a college classroom.

He claims that college students “fail to write college-level papers because that they have nothing to say, particularly when they stand in the shadows of their sources” (296). In college, students are just learning how to use sources to support their ideas, so if they are not able to make assertions because they have not developed as writers, they fall back on what they did in high school: summarizing and/or plagiarizing.

Finally, White discusses how because high school learning is test-focused, writing assignments are more clear. When students finally get to college with college-writing rooted in liberal arts tradition, they are challenged to “move out of their comfort zone into new ways of thinking about complex matters” ( 298).

L1 to L2

Harklau and Pinnow’s “Adolescent Second-Language Writing” serves as an excellent source of what future research is needed. Most teachers are currently facing or will be facing second-language (L2) writers in their classrooms. We need more research to know how to better serve this population because “our dependence on monolingual models of teaching and learning literacy leads us to define L2 writing merely as a problem or a L2 deficit, rather than considering writers’ entire repertoires and resources” (135).

At the community college where I teach, the department is very strict and does not want the composition instructors to keep L2 learners in our classrooms unless they have truly acquired the nuances of English. We are instructed to make sure we get writing samples the first day of class in case anyone “slipped through the system.” It’s as if they are saying “these people” are trying to get away with something. How about seeing it as “falling through the cracks” instead? Better yet, how about providing us with basic professional development on how to best work with this population in our monolingual classrooms? The attitude seems to be that they aren’t ready for your class yet, leave it to us.

But are the ESL courses they are relegated to holding their interest? Do these students learn to develop texts in L2 or are they relying on L1 and then using resources like teacher editing and translation dictionaries to refine L2 texts? And if they do “make it” into our composition classrooms, just how should we teach or develop their writing process? We say that no single writing process is right or correct because it is different for everyone, but is thinking in one language to develop the content and then converting that same content to another language a valid process? Should we encourage otherwise?

The research is still out on that one.

Writing Center Observation – Day Two

I decided this week to observe some more and not try to talk with students. I am hoping that by seeing me around for a little bit, they might get more comfortable with me. However, I don’t recognize anyone. Even the tutors look different to me. I wonder how much the center hours fluctuate.

I have heard my own students talk about wanting to go the same time each week in order to work with a particular tutor. They talk about how they stand in line and hope for the one they want. And sometimes they just say pass until the person they want is up. Over the years some have said it’s because the person they like is easy. Others say just the opposite and that it’s because they get more feedback which helps with their papers/scores.

Last week when I arrived, the center was fairly quiet. This week there was a line for tutors about seven people deep in the roped off area. It looked like a bank lobby on payday. Even the center director was working with students at the tutor tables and in a matter of five minutes helped two people on a thesis assignment. Throughout the afternoon, the center was busy and at one point there were twelve people in line with four tutors and the center director working with someone. I felt compelled to jump in and help but resisted the urge.

The full time faculty working when I arrived at 2 pm was once again sitting off to the side. She was helping someone today. Last week I did not see her working with people. I am wondering if the faculty only help if it is busy. The student with her is reworking an assignment. The faculty sits waiting patiently and talks quietly with her. She seems to be more concerned with privacy versus the other tutors and the center director who are quite loud. Their voices may also just carry more.

Another faculty relieves her at 4 pm and sits closer to the line. She has a book to read, but doesn’t hesitate to put it down and ask to help a student in line. The line clears again. And even if the other lower paid tutors are free, she offers to help the next person that approaches. As you may recall from my last post, the faculty are required to work three hours a week in the center or teach another course. Evidently there are only a few people who teach an additional course instead. Obviously, three hours in the center versus three hours in the classroom plus preparation and grading is a better deal time-wise. I wonder how many faculty cringe at the thought of having to work these hours. Clearly, this faculty seems to make the most of her time here.

Next week I will be sitting at the tutor bank of tables, shadowing tutors.

Literacy Event Practicum Journal

My practicum site is a writing center at a community college. I will be observing on Monday afternoons from 2 pm – 5 pm. I have taught at this community college since 1998 but I have never worked in the writing center. When I teach on campus, I often will meet students in the center to provide them with extra help. While they can get any extra help they need or want through the tutors in the center, they don’t always feel comfortable. When I teach off campus, if there is a writing center or lab component for the writing course, as the instructor, I teach that as well as part of the regular course section, so I am quite familiar with the book and the process as a whole.

During the thirty minutes or so Frank, the writing center director, and I spent some time catching up and going over the parameters of the assignment. I mention to him that I hadn’t really come up with specific research questions before coming because I wasn’t sure on how much access I would get to the center and the stakeholders. (I didn’t want to make assumptions.) Frank said he would mention the project to his students, so I should be able to observe a literacy event and have access to sample writing (or the text).

The writing center began in 1976. Frank has been the director since the early 1990s. Full time faculty are expected to work in the center for 3 hours weekly as part of their load; however, they can elect to teach a fifth course, but most do work in the center. Even the department head works hours in the center. The writing center seems to play a central role (no pun intended) in the English department. Each year the department hosts a part time faculty meeting in the writing center to welcome new teachers and review procedures.

Frank showed me the schedule of the instructors. All hours of the center are covered by at least one full time faculty, an adjunct (one who is guaranteed 9 credit hours each term), or a part time faculty. The evening hours have only one name listed but daytime hours have some overlap of 2-3 names in most places. Could this be due to wanting to work only during the day or is it because they are teaching courses in the evening and are not available except for during the day?

Each course with a writing center component has its own book that the student must purchase. These are ENG 050/051 – Basic Writing I and II, ENG 090/091 – Writing Fundamentals I and II, and ENG 111 – Composition I. For the sake of this project, I am going to focus on the English 111 course. The students are required to complete 11 assignments for the Composition I course (EMU transfer equivalent ENGL 121).

For the first day, I have positioned myself near the bank of assessing tables. The center is laid out with tables to seat 8 comfortably (5 of these), three tables along the windows that seat four people, and one area of four more comfortable office chairs. Oh, and there is one mauve recliner you would find in your grandmother’s living room. Students can come in and work at any of these available tables, or they can simply stand in stand in line and wait to see the next available “teller.” There are actually ropes to maintain the line length.

The tutors or “tellers” sit behind seven butt-ended tables (the last two turn near the entrance). They are positioned about every other seat and the next person waiting to have their assignment assessed sits across from the tutor, presents their assignment, and sits silently—waiting. The tutors will then begin to provide feedback and let them know if the student passed the assignment. If they have, the tutor indicates “Pass” and signs their name on two sheets. One sheet the students retain in their lab book and the other one is torn out and placed in a letter sorter for the clerical staff. The clerical staff then record these on a class spreadsheet and place them in the instructor mailboxes. The instructors are required to count the lab work as 25% of the final grade for the course.

There is a lot of discussion in the room. Some at the group tables where students are either helping each other or working on a group project. Some are just socializing. During the three hours the room is never completely silent, someone always seems to be moving somewhere or talking with someone.

There is also a computer lab area where students can work on their assignments and print them off for review. I see several students with laptops and I wonder if they are able to present the assignment on their laptop to avoid having to print the assignment. Frank did mention that maybe someday the students can pay a nominal fee to access the lab book as a pdf, instead of purchasing the $30 coursepack/book, but he claims that seems like a long time away still because of all of the political hoops.

I am noticing that one tutor likes to talk with the student as he reads the assignment while another tutor within earshot seems to be only commenting at the end. I am wondering if there are any recommended approaches to their jobs, training?

I really prefer not to take on a participant-observer role to the extent that I tutor because in this setting, tutoring equals power in most cases. The tutors are evaluating and grading so they aren’t really tutors in the traditional sense where they are helping the student get better at something and they are measured elsewhere. The center can be used for tutoring of papers for any class but typically, for the writing center assignments, the tutors are really instructors. They have the same amount of “power” as one of the faculty. They have the say whether or not a student has to redo the assignment or merely make a few handwritten corrections to it in order to satisfy the requirements.

I am getting a kick out one of the tutors. He is extremely vocal and doesn’t seem to stop talking if there is an audience—students, other tutors. He is talking mostly about himself and his accomplishment of teaching a student something while trying to frame within a humble disclaimer.

“See how I have revised your blueprint thesis statement? I think I have made it more clear to show what you plan to write about. Don’t you think? (Student nods) Of course, it is just my opinion. So did you learn something today? (Student nodded again and gave some soft-spoken response I could not hear.) Good that was my goal.”

I wonder what could she possibly say? He has the power to grade her work and give her the credit for the assignment. And he didn’t ask if she understood what he meant? Or let’s look at another example. He tore out the part he needed to give her credit and she retained her copy.

My goals before coming next week:

• Come up with the some research questions
• Research participant-observer models
• Maybe come up with some actual interview questions
• Review the Writing Center book for upcoming assignments and consider their purpose, type of literacy, etc.
• Do you have any suggestions?

Can We Assess Frameworks for Success?

After reading Clark and Ivanic’s “Writing Processes and Practices,” I briefly reviewed “Framework for Success in Postsecondary Writing” published by National Council of Teachers of English.

Clark and Ivanic use a continuum to illustrate how writing and speaking processes vary from being carefully planned to spontaneous (86). Because writing a condolence letter to friend requires thoughtfully chosen prose, the planning for this type of writing is considered a 1 or “carefully planned.” However, a conversation with a friend face-to-face is considered an 8, “spontaneous” because the speaker has no real opportunity to take time to revise. Interestingly, a telephone conversation ranks as a 7. I suppose because the speaker/listener has a slight opportunity to contemplate their response without conveying a physical response as the listener waits. In the middle of the continuum is 4, “writing an essay in an exam.” I would assume that writing an essay for a class, outside of class with time to prepare would be somewhere more near a 1, the condolence letter. As we discussed in class last week, assessments (or placement exams) force us, in most instances to rely on more spontaneously written texts for evaluation. Does “Framework for Success” account for this?

Although “Framework for Success” is “primarily for instructors who teach writing and include writing in their classes at all levels and in all subjects” (2), the students still need to be assessed and placed in the appropriate writing course. This document is implying that K12 educators should prepare the students for college level writing, but how can colleges truly assess for the skills described in it when the expectations for essay exams are not “carefully planned”? Instead they are more spontaneous exercises and often don’t measure the true “framework of success” needed for the college experience.

Gee Reminds Me of a Marriage Proposal Dilemma

Gee’s definition of literacy in “Literacy, Discourse, and Linguistics: Introduction and What is Literacy?” reminds me of the Eva Hoffman’s marriage proposal dilemma described in her book Lost in Translation. According to Gee, “Discourses (and therefore literacies) are not like languages in one very important regard. Someone can speak English, but not fluently. However, someone cannot engage in a Discourse in a less than fully fluent manner. You are either in it or you’re not” (9). Gee also describes how “Discourses are not just ways of talking, but ways of talking, acting, thinking, valuing, etc.”(10). Essentially, you can learn a language and function at less than fluent levels, but Discourse inherently requires a fluency in the culture attached to it.

Hoffman immigrated to Canada from Poland as a child in the 1950s. She studied English Literature a university in Texas and eventually earned a PhD from Harvard. She describes getting a marriage proposal from her Texan boyfriend. When she considered the question in English, she had one response, and when she considered the question in Polish, she had the opposite response. Honestly, I can’t recall which response was attached to which language or even what her final answer was. But what I always remember is that she could not separate the culture or as Gee might describe the “ways of talking, acting, thinking, valuing, etc.” from the language.

If I think about this definition and notion of a different “self” in the context of literacy event, I consider personality tests. I never respond the same way to those Meyers Briggs tests because if I take them for work when I am in a leadership role, I answer one way and if I take them outside of work or in a more supportive role at work, then the results are different. It’s not that I am trying to “pass” the test, I can literally feel attitudes shift as I read the questions based on what are the values of my current role.

Can you think of a situation when your “self” changes the outcome of a literacy event?