“Introduction” by Corbett
Corbett demonstrates the history and importance of rhetoric to students and writers in a piece that is both comprehensive and accessible. With an excellent bit of invention and arrangement of his own, the author cleverly entices modern readers with an illustration of the functionality of studying rhetoric. In a brief but comprehensive introduction, Corbett covers a lot of ground from the canons of rhetoric to external and internal proofs.
As I have said in previous blog posts, I truly wish I had read some of the assigned articles in this course at the beginning of my graduate program. On a personal level, Corbett’s article was exciting to me because he begins his piece with an illustration of the rhetorical appeals in advertising. His analysis of the Hewlett Packard ad would have been so helpful to me as I was starting to write my thesis on the situated meaning of pharmaceutical advertising. I just completed the final chapter of my thesis, and while I became more confident as I wrote each chapter, I still had considerable doubt about my ability to adequately analyze the discourse. Therefore, I was thrilled to see that some of my thoughts coincided with Corbett’s ideas about advertising.
But enough about me, I want to commend Corbett for his ability to show rhetoric’s importance to writers who are working in both professional and academic capacities. Corbett not only shows how rhetoric can be functional to everyday life but also spends considerable time – in his excerpt from The Illiad – demonstrating how rhetoric plays an important role in literary studies. Corbett uses these examples to reach multiple audiences and reinforce the premise that rhetoric is a discipline that is still necessary for us to study. His caution to society that we should look more critically at the writing and speeches of others reminds me of Sister Miriam Joseph’s warning in The Trivium that we have to be aware of rhetorical aspects in order to know how best to respond to the intentions of others.
I also found Corbett’s observations to be interesting. First, he mentions that rhetoric becomes important again “during periods of social and political upheaveal” (16). We can certainly see how this rings true in the presidential campaign currently underway. Barack Obama, for example, may not have the experience of other candidates, but people are willing to overlook this aspect because he is eloquent and understands the value of analyzing his rhetorical audience. Next, Corbett observes that often the people fighting hardest for the reinstatement of rhetorical study were people who were not trained in the practice. This echoes some of the information in Berlin’s article.
“Current-Traditional Rhetoric” by Berlin
Berlin addresses the development of current-traditional rhetoric, or scientific rhetoric, as well as the surrounding elements which led to its establishment. Much of the background information restates the historical readings from Brereton and Reynolds et al. from our 4 Feb 08 class. While he doesn’t clearly identify his intended audience, Berlin makes no secret of the fact that he disapproves of the way current-traditional rhetoric was used in the writing classroom.
In the history that he provides, Berlin concurs with Corbett that the development of college curriculum came about through the efforts of men in business who often were not college educated themselves. These proponents of higher education foresaw a need for more “practical” instruction to prepare students for life. In a way, the evolution of college curriculum reminds me of the move from civic humanism to Lockean liberalism in the eighteenth century. This makes me believe more than ever that education and writing instruction do tend to follow the changes in society.
Berlin’s pejorative description of current-traditional rhetoric, however, makes me wonder whether he was discussing only what happened in the past or commenting on the practices of the modern composition classrooms. I understand that Berlin feels scientific rhetoric was taken to an extreme that limited composition to empirical arrangement (classification, taxonomy, etc) and style (rules, prescriptive texts, etc). However, even inductive composition has a place in writing instruction. In fact, I learned a great deal about rhetoric and writing in a course about scientific rhetoric. Perhaps Berlin means the overuse of any particular theory is harmful?
“The Rise and Fall of the Modes of Discourse” by Connors
In the process of explaining how the modes of discourse came into popular use and subsequently fell from favor, Connors explains why the narrow classification of rhetoric did not adequately prepare students for writing. The author also illustrates how specialization gave writing teachers the methods for exposition that they use today. This article, I believe, somewhat answered the question I posed after reading Berlin’s piece. For example, Connors clearly points out how the overuse of the scientific method of division, classification, etc., paved the way for a very rigid approach to writing. Citing many of the same authors who appeared in our other readings for this week, Connors acknowledged the contributions of the founders of the modes of discourse while showing why changes needed to be made along the way.
Connors also shows us how certain theories can quickly become accepted without any question – to the point that ideas and concepts are hardly ever in doubt again. This seems to be a feature of writing education that even Connors forgets at times. For example, he mentions that the period from 1825-1870 was difficult to fully detail because “the ideas were presumed to be in currency rather than the specific property of individuals” (444-445) At the same time, Connors expresses surprise in footnote six that the “ ‘Big Four’ did not admit any indebtedness to Bain” (455) during the late nineteenth century. Isn’t it possible that Bain’s theory of unity, mass, and coherence had become, by that time, just as accepted as public property by other educators? In any case, Connors shows and warns us against inflexible methods of teaching.
“The Basic Aims of Discourse” by Kinneavy
Using what he calls the concept of “complete discourse” (129), Kinneavy provides a brief, but comprehensive survey of various theories whose aims are directed not at the writer or reader but at the true intention of the text or speech. I especially liked the way Kinneavy divided his explanation into the areas of “external” and “internal” norms because he clearly separates people from the discourse they prepare or read. Looking at the content of the discourse and what it exhibits is a good way to uncover what a writer or speaker might genuinely be trying to do.
I also enjoyed the way Kinneavy follows Connors and Berlin in cautioning the overuse or rigid specialization of writing theories, but still justifies the need to first isolate a particular feature in order to study it better. In that regard, Kinneavy’s thoughts run parallel to Bloom’s taxonomy of cognitive learning because we begin to learn on a lower level by analyzing – or picking apart – a concept to gain knowledge. Only then can we move to a higher level of learning by synthesizing the new knowledge with the surrounding context. It is this combination of analysis and further synthesis I believe Kinneavy stresses in his examination of the different discourse aims.
On a side note, isn’t it interesting that we have been reading this week about the potential drawbacks in over-classification or specialization yet Kinneavy accomplishes his task by giving us charts filled with classifications? Perhaps this tells us once again just how prone we can be to adopting theories through scientific methods.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Response to Readings for 11 Feb 08
“Writing Into the 21st Century: An Overview of Research on Writing, 1999 to 2004” by Juzwik, Curcic, Wolbers, Moxley, Dimling, and Shankland
Juzwik et al survey the studies published on writing 15 years after Durst conducted a similar study on writing research. The authors look at “what” was studied in the writing research (e.g. the research problems, age groups, etc) as well as “how” it was studied (RAD quantified, interpretive analysis, etc) during the years 1999-2004. The article was very clearly articulated, as was the results of their research. I particularly liked the quantifiable nature of their analysis. I tend to prefer interpretive means of analysis for my own work, so seeing someone work from hard data is enlightening.
The one drawback I could see in their methodology would be the fact that they only used computer-searchable databases for artifacts and did not attempt to locate any books on writing research. They do acknowledge this weakness in the footnotes, so I guess they covered themselves, but I wonder how much information they may have missed by not looking at other avenues. Anyway, their article certainly outlines their efforts very well, and I like the way they carve out a niche for their work by providing an explanation as to who might benefit from their piece (e.g. educators, researchers, and politicians). This is another area in which I often fall short because I have an awful tendency to assume everyone is interested in a topic I’m covering. (Yes, I’ve had a rude awakening during my graduate study.) By far the best feature of Juzwik et al’s piece is that it gives future researchers several select areas, such as writing assessments or language diversity for P-12, to explore in greater detail.
“Made Not Only in Words: Composition in a New Key” by Yancey
Primarily addressing other educators, Yancey advocates the study of composition and rhetoric beyond the first-year course. In doing so, she compares the current changes in writing literacy and technologies to the 19th century changes in reading literacy. Yancey makes a strong case for the inclusion of different genres, rhetorical canons, and activity theories in composition. I couldn’t help but feel that Juzwik et al. would be disappointed somewhat in Yancey’s article because her piece once again echoes their research since it mainly discusses writing development in post-secondary education. However, I enjoyed Yancey’s outlook on the value of composition and rhetoric studies beyond the confined space of the freshman composition course. She has a valid point that many young people are writing a great deal on their own time for their own purposes and the sheer enjoyment of it. For example, I can’t believe the amount of time my students, friends, etc spend on blogs, social networking sites, and text messages. I agree with Yancey that changing our role as composition teachers from gatekeepers to gateway (306) – or as I think of it, changing our role from control to conduit – might help us better develop writers and increase the chance that more students might finish college.
Overall to me, Yancey seems to want us to think in terms of “process” theory, but not in the form that we’ve always used the term. I believe Yancey would like us to think of the writers as being the process, not the writing itself. As such, the writers must have time to work through their development as they encounter different media and genres of invention, arrangement, etc. Her arguments make me wonder how we could manage such a feat. Could we develop a 4-year undergraduate program in which students start writing a project in their freshman year and continue to develop it throughout their undergraduate education? This would be a huge endeavor, but it might allow us to help writers evolve in the time they need. As an aside, although I liked Yancey’s piece, I do have to say that the layout of her piece was distracting at times. I realize she included all of the images and side bars as a way of practicing what she was preaching (the idea that multiple genres could enhance writing), but I think you can overdo a good thing, too. Still, what’s not to like about someone who strongly argues for the value of my MA track? Speaking of Yancey, she would probably be quite put out by some of the statements made by Lowe and Williams in their piece about blogs.
“Moving to the Public: Weblogs in the Writing Classroom” by Lowe and Williams
The authors advocate for the use of blogs in writing classrooms as a way to better bring student writing into the public realm. Lowe and Williams offer several personal examples of teaching experience wherein students became more interested and enthusiastic about their own writing and the writing of others as they interfaced on blogs. Lowe and Williams mention that “teachers can focus on writing for the web without getting into graphical design and visual rhetoric” (3), so apparently they don’t follow Yancey’s line of thought about multi-genred formats for writing. This is a shame because if Lowe and Williams really want to bring student writing into the “real” world, focusing on issues such as visual imagery and non-language sign systems is important.
What bothered me even more than the discounting of other genres, however, is that Lowe and Williams didn’t truly support their own main agenda. They go on and on about the value of writing beyond the “privacy” of the classroom, but each of their bullet points in the piece only deals with students’ posts of their academic writing and their responses on the same to peers. Where is the so-called public “social interaction” (2) from average citizens outside the academic setting? Do the authors have examples of a time when a stranger on the Internet actually engaged in the writing of students? If not, then what the students are doing in classes with Lowe and Williams is exchanging ideas and thoughts about their writing, and they can do just as well using “private” discussion boards in Webcampus, etc.
I know from my own experience teaching the hybrid business writing course that many students who are shy in class will participate more in Webcampus discussions. At the same time, I don’t see a need to transfer that participation to a wider audience. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that Lowe and Williams don’t suggest we go strictly with blogs, but I also think they discount too much the potential drawbacks of putting student writing on a public forum. I tend to agree more with Nick (one of the people who posted comments to the article) who recommends that public blogging be a choice of the student. Finally, I found Williams’s response to Nick -- “But how is this [blogging] different than requiring students to write/keep personal-writing-type journals in their composition classes?” (12) – to be rather short-sighted because, for one thing, required journals in composition classes are not put out in the public for everyone to read. Okay, I’m finished with Lowe and Williams at this point.
“The Place of World Englishes in Composition: Pluralization Continued” by Canagarajah
Canagarajah argues for acceptance of World Englishes (WE) in academic writing because he feels students would be able to more effectively express themselves through their own version of English. Canagarajah introduces the term “code meshing” to represent his concept of respecting Students’ Right to Their Own Language (SRTOL). I was really happy to see that the author admitted at the end of his piece that he “was unsure how to practice what I preach” (613) because I got that very impression as I was reading the article. The author seemed to be talking about the use of various versions of English in the process of writing at first, but then he appeared to switch to a discussion about using foreign words in the context of English writing. I’m not sure if Canagarajah is advocating something akin to what we call “Spanglish” when a writer mixes Spanish words into English writing, or if he is arguing for something similar to mixing British phrasing into American English, etc.
I do have to say Canagarajah has some ambitious goals for student writing, but I am completely unsure how I feel about his ideas. On the one hand, I like the notion that students might be more expressive in their writing if they were allowed to draft in a mixture of Standard Written English (SWE) and WE. I’m all for helping students develop their skills, and I like the idea of thinking of English speakers as expert and novice – of course, who would be the authority to make that decision? On the other hand, though, I have to wonder what our real intent is for students’ writing in this country. Do we want students simply to be comfortable and prolific? If so, then I guess there wouldn’t be a problem with allowing code meshing across the board. Or, do we want students to learn to adapt their writing to different rhetorical audiences? If this is our purpose, I’d have to agree with Peter Elbow’s theory that we allow students to draft in WE and then transform their writing to meet the criteria of SWE.
The real issue for me about Canagarajah’s article, though, was that no matter how the author tried to get away from it, he always circled back to the problem of code switching and the very issue he had with Elbow’s way of doing things. For example, in his discussion of a Malaysian student’s use of “can able to,” Canagarajah ends up stating “After more thought, the writer resorted to using “may be able to” in deference of SWE usage” (610). So, even in his definition, aren’t student writers still using codes to follow Elbow’s method of drafting in one way and revising in another? One final thought about this piece – wouldn’t it have been interesting and more pointed if Canagarajah had practiced what he was advising by code meshing Sri Lankan English into SWE with no flags attached in this piece?
Juzwik et al survey the studies published on writing 15 years after Durst conducted a similar study on writing research. The authors look at “what” was studied in the writing research (e.g. the research problems, age groups, etc) as well as “how” it was studied (RAD quantified, interpretive analysis, etc) during the years 1999-2004. The article was very clearly articulated, as was the results of their research. I particularly liked the quantifiable nature of their analysis. I tend to prefer interpretive means of analysis for my own work, so seeing someone work from hard data is enlightening.
The one drawback I could see in their methodology would be the fact that they only used computer-searchable databases for artifacts and did not attempt to locate any books on writing research. They do acknowledge this weakness in the footnotes, so I guess they covered themselves, but I wonder how much information they may have missed by not looking at other avenues. Anyway, their article certainly outlines their efforts very well, and I like the way they carve out a niche for their work by providing an explanation as to who might benefit from their piece (e.g. educators, researchers, and politicians). This is another area in which I often fall short because I have an awful tendency to assume everyone is interested in a topic I’m covering. (Yes, I’ve had a rude awakening during my graduate study.) By far the best feature of Juzwik et al’s piece is that it gives future researchers several select areas, such as writing assessments or language diversity for P-12, to explore in greater detail.
“Made Not Only in Words: Composition in a New Key” by Yancey
Primarily addressing other educators, Yancey advocates the study of composition and rhetoric beyond the first-year course. In doing so, she compares the current changes in writing literacy and technologies to the 19th century changes in reading literacy. Yancey makes a strong case for the inclusion of different genres, rhetorical canons, and activity theories in composition. I couldn’t help but feel that Juzwik et al. would be disappointed somewhat in Yancey’s article because her piece once again echoes their research since it mainly discusses writing development in post-secondary education. However, I enjoyed Yancey’s outlook on the value of composition and rhetoric studies beyond the confined space of the freshman composition course. She has a valid point that many young people are writing a great deal on their own time for their own purposes and the sheer enjoyment of it. For example, I can’t believe the amount of time my students, friends, etc spend on blogs, social networking sites, and text messages. I agree with Yancey that changing our role as composition teachers from gatekeepers to gateway (306) – or as I think of it, changing our role from control to conduit – might help us better develop writers and increase the chance that more students might finish college.
Overall to me, Yancey seems to want us to think in terms of “process” theory, but not in the form that we’ve always used the term. I believe Yancey would like us to think of the writers as being the process, not the writing itself. As such, the writers must have time to work through their development as they encounter different media and genres of invention, arrangement, etc. Her arguments make me wonder how we could manage such a feat. Could we develop a 4-year undergraduate program in which students start writing a project in their freshman year and continue to develop it throughout their undergraduate education? This would be a huge endeavor, but it might allow us to help writers evolve in the time they need. As an aside, although I liked Yancey’s piece, I do have to say that the layout of her piece was distracting at times. I realize she included all of the images and side bars as a way of practicing what she was preaching (the idea that multiple genres could enhance writing), but I think you can overdo a good thing, too. Still, what’s not to like about someone who strongly argues for the value of my MA track? Speaking of Yancey, she would probably be quite put out by some of the statements made by Lowe and Williams in their piece about blogs.
“Moving to the Public: Weblogs in the Writing Classroom” by Lowe and Williams
The authors advocate for the use of blogs in writing classrooms as a way to better bring student writing into the public realm. Lowe and Williams offer several personal examples of teaching experience wherein students became more interested and enthusiastic about their own writing and the writing of others as they interfaced on blogs. Lowe and Williams mention that “teachers can focus on writing for the web without getting into graphical design and visual rhetoric” (3), so apparently they don’t follow Yancey’s line of thought about multi-genred formats for writing. This is a shame because if Lowe and Williams really want to bring student writing into the “real” world, focusing on issues such as visual imagery and non-language sign systems is important.
What bothered me even more than the discounting of other genres, however, is that Lowe and Williams didn’t truly support their own main agenda. They go on and on about the value of writing beyond the “privacy” of the classroom, but each of their bullet points in the piece only deals with students’ posts of their academic writing and their responses on the same to peers. Where is the so-called public “social interaction” (2) from average citizens outside the academic setting? Do the authors have examples of a time when a stranger on the Internet actually engaged in the writing of students? If not, then what the students are doing in classes with Lowe and Williams is exchanging ideas and thoughts about their writing, and they can do just as well using “private” discussion boards in Webcampus, etc.
I know from my own experience teaching the hybrid business writing course that many students who are shy in class will participate more in Webcampus discussions. At the same time, I don’t see a need to transfer that participation to a wider audience. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that Lowe and Williams don’t suggest we go strictly with blogs, but I also think they discount too much the potential drawbacks of putting student writing on a public forum. I tend to agree more with Nick (one of the people who posted comments to the article) who recommends that public blogging be a choice of the student. Finally, I found Williams’s response to Nick -- “But how is this [blogging] different than requiring students to write/keep personal-writing-type journals in their composition classes?” (12) – to be rather short-sighted because, for one thing, required journals in composition classes are not put out in the public for everyone to read. Okay, I’m finished with Lowe and Williams at this point.
“The Place of World Englishes in Composition: Pluralization Continued” by Canagarajah
Canagarajah argues for acceptance of World Englishes (WE) in academic writing because he feels students would be able to more effectively express themselves through their own version of English. Canagarajah introduces the term “code meshing” to represent his concept of respecting Students’ Right to Their Own Language (SRTOL). I was really happy to see that the author admitted at the end of his piece that he “was unsure how to practice what I preach” (613) because I got that very impression as I was reading the article. The author seemed to be talking about the use of various versions of English in the process of writing at first, but then he appeared to switch to a discussion about using foreign words in the context of English writing. I’m not sure if Canagarajah is advocating something akin to what we call “Spanglish” when a writer mixes Spanish words into English writing, or if he is arguing for something similar to mixing British phrasing into American English, etc.
I do have to say Canagarajah has some ambitious goals for student writing, but I am completely unsure how I feel about his ideas. On the one hand, I like the notion that students might be more expressive in their writing if they were allowed to draft in a mixture of Standard Written English (SWE) and WE. I’m all for helping students develop their skills, and I like the idea of thinking of English speakers as expert and novice – of course, who would be the authority to make that decision? On the other hand, though, I have to wonder what our real intent is for students’ writing in this country. Do we want students simply to be comfortable and prolific? If so, then I guess there wouldn’t be a problem with allowing code meshing across the board. Or, do we want students to learn to adapt their writing to different rhetorical audiences? If this is our purpose, I’d have to agree with Peter Elbow’s theory that we allow students to draft in WE and then transform their writing to meet the criteria of SWE.
The real issue for me about Canagarajah’s article, though, was that no matter how the author tried to get away from it, he always circled back to the problem of code switching and the very issue he had with Elbow’s way of doing things. For example, in his discussion of a Malaysian student’s use of “can able to,” Canagarajah ends up stating “After more thought, the writer resorted to using “may be able to” in deference of SWE usage” (610). So, even in his definition, aren’t student writers still using codes to follow Elbow’s method of drafting in one way and revising in another? One final thought about this piece – wouldn’t it have been interesting and more pointed if Canagarajah had practiced what he was advising by code meshing Sri Lankan English into SWE with no flags attached in this piece?
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Response To Readings for 4 Feb 08
This post will cover the following assigned reading for this week (2/4):
“A Brief History of Rhetoric and Composition” by Reynolds, Bizzell, and Herzberg
Reynolds et al. offer a quick review of how rhetoric has undergone many changes throughout history as well as a good explanation of how composition studies came about at Harvard and beyond.
“Introduction” by Brereton
This is another historical walk through the origins of composition and the undoing of rhetoric in formal study. Brereton echoes much of the material in Reynold et al’s work as it re-tells the story of the founding of composition at Harvard in the late 19th century. Brereton also covers the concept of the German model for universities and the ways in which university education grew rapidly through the model, expansion of knowledge, increase of students, and the visionaries who fought so hard for higher education.
“An Answer to the Cry for More English” by Hill
Hill attempts to show how Harvard is doing more for students in terms of English instruction than critics would allow. His purpose is also to show that a large part of the blame for students’ inability to write must rest at the front doors of lower-level educational institutions. This article also made some of the same references to Harvard’s history of composition that were included in the other pieces. Hill, however, details the inadequacies of past students who could write about literature but not understand the mechanics of their native language. He also discusses the apathy of many teachers who did not want to deal with change.
“Where Did Composition Studies Come From?” by Nystrand, Greene, and Wiemelt
A very interesting “intellectual history” (267) of not only how composition studies came into being after the literary crisis of the 1970s, but also how the various minds behind formalism, structuralism and dialogism believed meaning developed in relation to writing and speaking. In addition, Nystrand et al detail the progression of composition studies as it paralleled the changes in language and literary studies.
My Reflections on the Readings
First, I’d like to say that this is the first blog I have ever done, so I hope I am following whatever “blog etiquette” exists out there. I’ll also try not to be too dry. (Call me old-fashioned or maybe too engrained in past “military security” training, but I am not very comfortable putting myself out on the public domain.) Anyway, even old dogs can learn new tricks, so here goes…
I have always felt that rhetoric and composition programs were on a lower pecking order somehow than literary studies at most universities, and most of this week’s readings reinforced my belief. From talking with my peers in the graduate program, I have to wonder if students today understand the importance of rhetoric in their own writing or in the writing development of others. (Now I really do sound old – these kids today…!) I know when I speak to my students in business writing about concerns like rhetorical purpose and audience, they look at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. Most of them just want to know what I want so they can get an “A.”
In Reynolds et al’s piece, I found Janet Emig’s theory of “composing” versus “writing” to be very interesting. I can see how the change in terms might convey another meaning to writers because to me composing connotes building something from nothing while writing often signifies a set of hard-and-fast rules to follow. Using the term composing might be a way for us to encourage students to think more creatively about their work. It also might help me lighten up, as I can sometimes fall into the prescriptive trap when grading.
From Brereton, I learned that, prior to 1900, higher levels of education were really nothing more than charm schools for the elite. Much of the criticism about Harvard’s composition program in the late 19th century sounds like what we hear today – that it does not make a significant change to student writing, and that it takes up too much of the instructor’s time. I did find Brereton‘s article to be interesting, although he seems to tack on feminist and African-American rhetoric and writing as almost an afterthought. I’m not really sure why he addressed it so briefly. Overall, it was rather distressing to me that the area in which I am so interested – rhetoric and language analysis – was so undervalued as higher education developed, and that this type of thinking still prevails today. It’s a shame that men like Hill, who were supposed to be defending the practice of rhetorical studies and composition, decided to argue from a position of art versus a more research-based discipline. Perhaps composition should have separated from the English department just as public speaking did. Brereton’s article did leave me with a few questions: 1) If composition was not taught in the colleges prior to the 1860s, how did students do so well with their courses? 2) Is there something we can learn from that period to improve our method? 3) How can we work with the students to improve their rhetorical skills?
What strikes me the most about Hill’s piece is the emphasis that was once again consistently placed on literary studies versus rhetoric and composition studies. The exams the students had to take, for example, all centered on great literary works even in the process of stating the desire to evaluate organizational and mechanical skills. It was not until late in the piece that I saw references to other forms of education in English, such as debate and instruction in the use of rhetorical canons like invention and arrangement. By Hill’s own assertion, these types of programs motivated and inspired students to achieve more (i.e. the competitive students who wanted to win places in the “Commencement Parts”) (54). Unfortunately, only a special few appeared to have benefited from the advanced training.
While initially imposing to me for its length, Nystrand et al’s piece is actually my favorite of the readings for this week. The article presented the various theories in a clear and easy-to-read manner, and I enjoyed the analogies, such as looking at the evolution of composition studies as a “fundamental climate change” (273). The mini-summaries at the end of each sub-section were a nice touch for the flow of the article and my retention of the material, too. I only wish I had read this piece (and had the table that the authors provide) at the beginning of my M.A. education because it really helped resolve some of my misperceptions about the differences between theories, such as the key ideas of constructivism and social constructionism. This piece also resonated with me because it discusses several of the premises behind the theory which is an essential part of my M.A. thesis. (I am using James Paul Gee’s theory of situated meaning as the methodology for my discourse analysis of pharmaceutical advertising.)
Finally, as Nystrand et al mentioned, we could benefit by expanding our definition of what a “text” or a discourse can look like or contain. Many researchers, for example, have been looking at product labeling, billboards, etc., as a corpus for a social discourse and have made some interesting assertions about the messages we derive from these forms of communication.
“A Brief History of Rhetoric and Composition” by Reynolds, Bizzell, and Herzberg
Reynolds et al. offer a quick review of how rhetoric has undergone many changes throughout history as well as a good explanation of how composition studies came about at Harvard and beyond.
“Introduction” by Brereton
This is another historical walk through the origins of composition and the undoing of rhetoric in formal study. Brereton echoes much of the material in Reynold et al’s work as it re-tells the story of the founding of composition at Harvard in the late 19th century. Brereton also covers the concept of the German model for universities and the ways in which university education grew rapidly through the model, expansion of knowledge, increase of students, and the visionaries who fought so hard for higher education.
“An Answer to the Cry for More English” by Hill
Hill attempts to show how Harvard is doing more for students in terms of English instruction than critics would allow. His purpose is also to show that a large part of the blame for students’ inability to write must rest at the front doors of lower-level educational institutions. This article also made some of the same references to Harvard’s history of composition that were included in the other pieces. Hill, however, details the inadequacies of past students who could write about literature but not understand the mechanics of their native language. He also discusses the apathy of many teachers who did not want to deal with change.
“Where Did Composition Studies Come From?” by Nystrand, Greene, and Wiemelt
A very interesting “intellectual history” (267) of not only how composition studies came into being after the literary crisis of the 1970s, but also how the various minds behind formalism, structuralism and dialogism believed meaning developed in relation to writing and speaking. In addition, Nystrand et al detail the progression of composition studies as it paralleled the changes in language and literary studies.
My Reflections on the Readings
First, I’d like to say that this is the first blog I have ever done, so I hope I am following whatever “blog etiquette” exists out there. I’ll also try not to be too dry. (Call me old-fashioned or maybe too engrained in past “military security” training, but I am not very comfortable putting myself out on the public domain.) Anyway, even old dogs can learn new tricks, so here goes…
I have always felt that rhetoric and composition programs were on a lower pecking order somehow than literary studies at most universities, and most of this week’s readings reinforced my belief. From talking with my peers in the graduate program, I have to wonder if students today understand the importance of rhetoric in their own writing or in the writing development of others. (Now I really do sound old – these kids today…!) I know when I speak to my students in business writing about concerns like rhetorical purpose and audience, they look at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. Most of them just want to know what I want so they can get an “A.”
In Reynolds et al’s piece, I found Janet Emig’s theory of “composing” versus “writing” to be very interesting. I can see how the change in terms might convey another meaning to writers because to me composing connotes building something from nothing while writing often signifies a set of hard-and-fast rules to follow. Using the term composing might be a way for us to encourage students to think more creatively about their work. It also might help me lighten up, as I can sometimes fall into the prescriptive trap when grading.
From Brereton, I learned that, prior to 1900, higher levels of education were really nothing more than charm schools for the elite. Much of the criticism about Harvard’s composition program in the late 19th century sounds like what we hear today – that it does not make a significant change to student writing, and that it takes up too much of the instructor’s time. I did find Brereton‘s article to be interesting, although he seems to tack on feminist and African-American rhetoric and writing as almost an afterthought. I’m not really sure why he addressed it so briefly. Overall, it was rather distressing to me that the area in which I am so interested – rhetoric and language analysis – was so undervalued as higher education developed, and that this type of thinking still prevails today. It’s a shame that men like Hill, who were supposed to be defending the practice of rhetorical studies and composition, decided to argue from a position of art versus a more research-based discipline. Perhaps composition should have separated from the English department just as public speaking did. Brereton’s article did leave me with a few questions: 1) If composition was not taught in the colleges prior to the 1860s, how did students do so well with their courses? 2) Is there something we can learn from that period to improve our method? 3) How can we work with the students to improve their rhetorical skills?
What strikes me the most about Hill’s piece is the emphasis that was once again consistently placed on literary studies versus rhetoric and composition studies. The exams the students had to take, for example, all centered on great literary works even in the process of stating the desire to evaluate organizational and mechanical skills. It was not until late in the piece that I saw references to other forms of education in English, such as debate and instruction in the use of rhetorical canons like invention and arrangement. By Hill’s own assertion, these types of programs motivated and inspired students to achieve more (i.e. the competitive students who wanted to win places in the “Commencement Parts”) (54). Unfortunately, only a special few appeared to have benefited from the advanced training.
While initially imposing to me for its length, Nystrand et al’s piece is actually my favorite of the readings for this week. The article presented the various theories in a clear and easy-to-read manner, and I enjoyed the analogies, such as looking at the evolution of composition studies as a “fundamental climate change” (273). The mini-summaries at the end of each sub-section were a nice touch for the flow of the article and my retention of the material, too. I only wish I had read this piece (and had the table that the authors provide) at the beginning of my M.A. education because it really helped resolve some of my misperceptions about the differences between theories, such as the key ideas of constructivism and social constructionism. This piece also resonated with me because it discusses several of the premises behind the theory which is an essential part of my M.A. thesis. (I am using James Paul Gee’s theory of situated meaning as the methodology for my discourse analysis of pharmaceutical advertising.)
Finally, as Nystrand et al mentioned, we could benefit by expanding our definition of what a “text” or a discourse can look like or contain. Many researchers, for example, have been looking at product labeling, billboards, etc., as a corpus for a social discourse and have made some interesting assertions about the messages we derive from these forms of communication.
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