Bonniemay’s Weblog

How can we learn from what we do/teach?  How can we continue to better ourselves as teachers?  What are some ways we can become “reflective practitioners”?

I once had a mentor teacher tell me, “Bonnie, the minute you think you’ve got it . . . that you have teaching completely figured out . . . that there’s nothing left for you to learn . . . you’ve lost it and you need to get out of the business.”  I think that was a life defining moment for me.  I will never forget her face or the simultaneous presence of challenge and encouragement I saw in her eyes.  I think it’s the absolute truth for educators.  The best thing we can do as teachers to help ourselves is to humbly admit we don’t know everything and then seek to become life long learners.

I think reflection is such a vital part of becoming an excellent teacher.  However, it is not just “reflection” but honest reflection.  I write about the lessons I teach.  I write about what works, what doesn’t, and I record ideas to “try next time.”  I look forward to observations from colleagues and supervisors.  The fresh eyes on my classroom are so important.  When I can’t see the proverbial forrest for the trees, I find the professional insight and commentary so grounding and focusing.  Others see the places I am lacking so much more clearly than I can see it in myself.

What is the “End of Composition”?  How do we get there?  What are the principles of good writing instruction that will get us there?

The “End of Composition” as far as I am concerned is to help our students become better writers.  I know from experience that not every student will write as well as we would hope, but they all have potential to improve.  I think, as instructors, we need to keep that in sight.  I have been around many instructors in my short time in education that tend to write students off.  “He’s too lazy.”  “She doesn’t care.”  “Poor thing, he just can’t write a complete sentence to save his life.”  Of course, with expectations this low, there is no way we can even hope to reach the “end of composition!”

However, do not lose heart!  There are some definite principles writing instructors can adhere to in order to reach the “end of composition.”

• Be hopeful.  Expect great things, students rise to your expectations.
• Be prepared.  If you are not ready for multiple possibilities in the classroom, you will lose valuable teaching time.
• Be flexible.  Sometimes, in the middle of a lesson, a problem or question or idea or issue will arise that you need to address. In fact, it could be something your students desperately need, so the best thing you can do is put your agenda aside and address it.
• Be specific.  Give clear, concise, well ordered and explicit instructions for writing assignments.  Any ambiguity on your part will prove frustrating and difficult for your students (and then when you grade their assignments, you will become frustrated as well.)
• Be learner-centered.  Remember that you have a classroom full of students of different levels of ability, different backgrounds, and different learning needs.  Use strategies that appeal to all types of learners: the visual, the auditory, the kinesthetic.
• Be invested.  These are your students, you have a tremendous opportunity to help them succeed as writers.
• Be consistent.  Make sure you articulate your expectations for students, yourself, and the course, and then stick to your standards.

For me, it is easy to get caught up in the idea that I have so much knowledge to impart to my students (even when the only teaching I’m doing is via RaiderWriter).  I’m sorely tempted to gloss over the basics in my own life, because I think by now I should have it down pat.  However, if I’m honest, I realize that I don’t.  I realize that I can continue to learn from the basics.  I realize that I need to be a life long learner and I cannot ever think I know it all. I need to model that for my students. I realize that even in the familiar and easy, for the teacher there is always something to learn. 

Let me give you an example from last spring semester.   I’ve read Romeo and Juliet more times than I can remember.  I have to admit it’s fun to watch my students’ faces when they ask me a question and I quote an entire passage back to them.  I have read that play upwards of twenty times.  It has become rather “old hat” for me.  It is rare that I feel like I learn anything new from the tale of the star-crossed lovers… however, last spring, good ol’ Friar Lawrence taught me a thing or two.

You see it all started one Wednesday morning towards the end of the sprin semester.  I woke up, determined to have a good… no make that great … day. You see, if you’ve ever taught 8th graders you know that of any grade (except perhaps seniors) 8th graders are the toughest to teach at that time of year.  Yes, they feel the normal anticipation of the freedom of summer that every student feels, but this complete sense of “I really don’t care” digs its heels in their brains and they become the very worst version of themselves.  To use the word lazy to describe them would be kind.  However, I digress… let me get to the point.  I’d had a rough week, trying to get them excited about Romeo and Juliet was proving a mammoth task, and by Wednesday morning I felt that it should have been Friday.  Undaunted by the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I made up my mind… that Wednesday-that-should-have-been- Friday was going to be a great day.  I had the very best of intentions…

Well, you know what they say about good intentions. 

I got out of bed, walked my dog and went to the coffee pot… only to realize I was completely out of coffee.  No big deal, I like tea… so I made some tea instead.  You know that other saying… you know, the one about a “watched pot never boils”… well what they don’t tell you is that if you don’t watch the pot it boils… it really boils… and what I mean by boils is that it gets water and steam all over your kitchen (if your kitchen happens to be 2′ x 3′ like mine.)  I spent a while cleaning that before I realized I was going to be late if I didn’t get myself in gear.  I selected my wardrobe for the day with an unusually solicitous eye.  It was academic award ceremony day, and I knew I would have to hand out some of the English awards and I wanted to look my best… not to mention the fact that on days when I want to ensure I have a good day, I have to feel like I look great. I ran out the door, without having breakfast (which is a very important meal for me, I like to linger over breakfast with a hot cup of coffee… I see that time as a necessity, not a luxury, so when I don’t get it, I feel cheated out of my simplest pleasure in life.) I left my apartment at 7:14, which was rather unfortunate because unless I leave by 7:12, it’s a sure bet that I will not arrive at work until 7:33…or… *gasp* 7:34.   I arrived at work, at 7:33, to find my most bellicose student waiting to take a make-up quiz.  I do not remember scheduling this specific quiz, but things have been rather hectic lately, so I will own up to the fact that I could have forgotten.  My student was not happy that she had to wait three minutes for me to get there and unlock the door.  The rest of the school day went by rather uneventfully. 

I tutored a student until 5:00 pm, and then I headed to my favorite Chinese food place to procure some wonton soup for a friend who had bronchitis.  I got about three-tenths of a mile when my entire car shut down… electricity, engine, power steering, everything… while I was driving!!!!  I was fortunately in a not-too-busy-spot, so I pulled over (half of my car legally parked and the other half in a no-parking zone) and I called one of my dearest friends…who sent her self-sacrificing husband to help me, while she attended an honors program for their daughter.  After a long, hard day at work, my friend’s husband (who is also my dear friend) showed up, and worked on my car for 2-ish hours, and we even went to Auto-Zone to buy a new battery.  Sadly, the battery was not the answer to my car troubles.  I had a sinking feeling the repairs would take the entire economic stimulus check the IRS had just deposited into my checking account.

We got my car home, and I realized I had NO FOOD.  I was afraid to take my car anywhere now that it was safely ensconced in the parking garage… but I seriously had NO FOOD in my apartment.  Once again, another dear friend came to the rescue and brought me the best, biggest, most unhealthy but delicious hamburger. 

While I was waiting for my friend to bring me sustenance in the form of What-a-burger, I found out the place I thought I was about to sign a lease on in Lubbock was not all it seemed to be.  It was in the right price range and the right neighborhood, but it had some unforeseen drawbacks.  So, the bright spot in my day… an affordable place to live while in graduate school… fell through, as well. 

It was truly a horrible day.

Until the words of Friar Lawrence came to the front of my mind.

In Act III scene iii of Romeo and Juliet  Friar Lawrence says:

What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew’st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:
The law that threaten’d death becomes thy friend
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love:
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.

And suddenly my day snapped into perspective.

I didn’t have breakfast, but thankfully it wasn’t because I couldn’t afford the food, it was because I couldn’t afford the time.  (Imagine Friar Lawrence saying, There art thou happy!)

My student might have been difficult to handle, but I’m just glad she made up the quiz. (There art thou happy!)

My car broke down on the side of the road, but I had dear, sweet, wonderful friends who were only too happy to help me out.  (There art thou happy!)

I had no food in my house, not from a lack of funds, but from a lack of time.  (There art thou happy!)

My friend fed my body by bringing me a hamburger and she fed my soul by staying up late and talking to me! (There art thou happy!)

My car needed serious repairs, but at least the repairs could come out of a windfall rather than my meager savings. (There art thou happy!)

I won’t lie.  I cried quite a bit on Wednesday night.  I haven’t cried like that in a while.  Then I woke up Thursday morning, and I didn’t have to make up my mind to have a good day.  I realized that there was so much that happened on Wednesday that was horrible, but at the same time, the horrible things were followed by such sweet reminders of all I have to be thankful for… of all I have yet to learn.

My teaching philosophy as a middle and high school teacher has helped me create my college level teaching philosophy, but I have found through grading for 1301 and discussing college composition in 5060 that I have made some significant changes in my teaching philosophy. I am still working on the fine points, but here’s what I have so far:

Direct interaction is the key element in my classroom.  I seek to motivate and encourage my students through active participation.  It is my belief that every learner is capable of success at some level.  Because this attitude permeates the way I teach, I have been able to see my students achieve a higher level of self-confidence and self-worth in their writing abilities.   It is my desire to see all of my students succeed not only in the classroom but also in life.  I have a comprehensive understanding of the critical correlation between teaching the basic fundamentals of writing and at the same time pushing and challenging students to treat their writing as an art or a craft.  It is my belief that if basic fundamentals are taught effectively at the freshman level students will write successfully throughout the rest of their college careers.  I have learned how  to create lessons that incorporate several teaching strategies from individual activities to collaborative learning activities, which ensures the success of my students both in the classroom and beyond.

On test days, when I was teaching middle and high school age students, I used to parody the chorus of the song by Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes, “If You Don’t Know Me by Now.”  Instead of the correct lyrics,

If you don’t know me by now, you will never never know me . . .

I sang,

If you don’t know it by now, you will never never never know it. . .

That was really my way of teasing those students who neglected to study and instead were trying to cram information into their brains until the absolute last second possible.  They knew I was teasing them; it was all in good fun, but when I think about today’s composition students I get the feeling that it is often the way we instructors approach our FYC students. There seems to be a prevailing attitude of 

 *Sigh* If you don’t know this by now, you will never know it!

Though goodness knows we won’t say it out loud (or hopefully we won’t)!  Yet, what do our actions say?  Do we set aside time to plan what we teach? To give helpful commentary? To invest in our students as writers? Do we set our office hours at a time students will come to us for help? Or do we set them at a day and time that will hopefully preclude any “bothersome” students from coming by?  Do we really care about what we’re teaching them and how we’re teaching it? Or is it just a means to an end?  Do we think they can learn or improve? Or are we going through the motions all the while thinking, “They’ve either got it or they don’t”?

What should a FYC teacher come to class knowing?  What should a FYC student come to class knowing?  How can we prepare for “Plan B” when they don’t?

I have given this prompt a lot of thought over the past few weeks.  I suppose the instructor of a FYC course should come to class knowing the basic ideas and theories behind composition.  He or she should also have a firm grasp of grammar and mechancis (I think that complete mastery in these areas will only come after a few years of teaching…nothing teaches someone a concept like having to teach it to others!)  I think there is something more that an FYC teacher needs to bring to class — something beyond book knowledge.  A first year composition instructor should come to class with a clear idea of what he/she expects from students, and these expectations should be made clear to the students from the very first day.  Also, FYC instructors need a certain level of commitment to excellence in the classroom and a desire to see students succeed.  These elements combined with the traditional idea of a teacher with “book knowledge” make for a successful course experience for instructor and students alike.

I have a whole list of things a FYC student should know before coming to class, but is it cynical of me (or just realistic) to know that very few (if any) will know those things?  I feel like I shouldn’t have to go over basic writing rules… you know the ones:

• Avoid first and second person
• Capitalize proper nouns
• Use the active voice
• Do not use contractions
• Do not use slang
• Use topic sentences
• Use transitions
• Avoid vague pronouns
• Pay attention to pronoun/antecedent agreement

The list could go on and on . . . it would be wonderful if they came to class knowing even half of those things, but after grading for almost a semester, it seems to me they do not.  Because I want so desperately to help them become better writers, I try to be patient and I try to teach them as much as I can.  I set the goal for myself that, perhaps they will not be the next award winning author when they leave my class, but they will leave it a vastly improved academic writer (if he or she wants it… if a student is lazy and apathetic there is little I can do to help.)

What am I struggling with?

It seems like everything.  How do I balance theory with practicality in my own classroom?  How do I balance doing the things I cannot stand to do with the things I cannot wait to do?  How do I find enough time to be an excellent student and a real person?  When am I supposed to sleep?  I suppose it is just that time of the semester, and I’ve been out of school for a while so I’d completely forgotten this feeling until it hit me square between the eyes.  I am tired; I am overwhelmed with work for classes I do not enjoy (hopefully next semester will be different.)  You know, as I am sitting here, typing all of this, I wonder if that is how our first year comp students feel. Overwhelmed. Tired. Busy-worked-to-death. 

Sorry for the rant. It’s just how I’m struggling right now.

 How important is theory/are theories in our academic work?  Why are they/aren’t they important?  Is it important for us to be familiar with theories that guide our work, our pedagogy, etc.?

I have to admit that I cannot stand the study of educational theories.  I had enough of that in my undergrad classes, so I was a bit surprised (and honestly disappointed) that Texas Tech requires me to take this class.  I had a teaching writing class in my undergrad, and we covered many of the same theories we talk about in this class.  I know theories are important, and most employers want their teachers to be well versed in theory, so I am trying to apply myself to understanding and implementing these theories.  It takes a tremendous amount of focus for me to read all the theoretical essays; I often find my mind wandering when I should be reading.  I know it takes all kinds of people to make the world go ’round (as the cliche goes) and I know there are people who enjoy the study of theory. I’m just not one of them. 

I do not know if this sounds very credible; however, I must say that I have always wanted to be a teacher.  Since I was five years old, I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life.  I feel like a lot of the ideas, strategies, and theories to being a teacher are inate (at least within me.)  Regardless of how I feel about theory, I want to spend my life learning and becoming a better teacher, and if that means studying and learning theory, then I’m ready to do just that.

Coming back to school after teaching for five years has really been a challenge for me.  I was out of the habit of writing, and  beginning again was a slightly painful process.  However, I persevered, and I feel like I am back in the swing of things.

I am glad you asked us to think about the way we write.  I noticed some things about my writing style that had never occurred to me before.  I found that I always have to have a cup of coffee or tea next to me regardless of what I am writing.  If I am writing for an academic purpose, I need to sit at my desk, surrounded by the materials I need, and I listen to classical music (nothing with words.) In this case, I’ve usually spent time “pre-writing”  while I’m cooking, or driving, or doing some other kind of daily activity.  I make up sentences in my head, and play around with them until they sound just the way I want them.  If I am writing poetry or prose (usually for myself) I like to sit on the couch, or on my bed, or even better . . . go to a coffee shop.  I love being around people and in busy places when I am writing poetry or prose.  That’s where I find my best ideas. In the coffee shop setting, I like to have my journal (currently it’s green with brown birds on the front) and a felt tip pen.  I love the way the pen feels as I move it over the smooth surface of a blank page.  Oh, and sometimes, something strikes a chord with me, and I cannot move on, or really do anything else until I write about it.  In those cases I write on anything I can find, and I just scribble across the paper until I feel better.  Some of the best things I’ve written started out on a napkin from the glovebox of my truck.

Does “voice” that resonates compete with or enhance “academic voice”?  How can we write successfully as “academics” and still have voice?

I think that voice is a vital part of what we in the academic world would call “excellence in writing.”  Be that as it may, I do not think that voice is the primary aim of a first year writing course… it might be an ultimate goal (helping students find their “voice”) but in many cases teaching voice before other basics is like putting the cart before the horse.

I think those students who read quite a bit when they were younger (and hopefully still do read) are naturally better writers.  They have not only absorbed ideas about vocabulary and sentence structures but also retained the subtle art of voice.  These students, however, are few and far between (and is it just me, or does it seem like every year they are fewer and farther than the last?) so something must be done about teaching voice in the classroom.

I am not quite sure how to bring this about in the classroom.  There are such basic fundamental grammar and sentence structure needs that must be addressed before fine tuning a student’s voice — but then I wonder if perhaps the grammar and sentence structure needs would begin to take care of themselves when a student finally finds his/her voice.  I suppose the key is finding balance (isn’t that always the answer to everything?)  In my classrooms in the past, I leaned more towards wanting to help students find their voices, and in turn I neglected some of the building blocks that every great writer stands upon.  In past years I have  forced myself to pay more attention to grammar and structure, and now I wonder if I lean too much in that direction and away from helping students find their voices.

Hmm… I wonder, in the world of education/academics is there anything more challenging and precarious than teaching writing?