Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Phelps, "Administration as a Design Art," keynote speech from WPA 2003 Summer Conference

Summary: Phelps tackles the concept of design in this piece, examining the breakdowns of some of our traditional understandings--such as that design occurs before construction and is realized with construction--and discussing how design functions in writing program administration. Phelps explores "the performative question of designability," or how we actively and continually design and re-design, how we are constrained by the structure of the institution (drawing analogies to architecture), and who is empowered to do such design. When we step into writing programs, Phelps writes, they are more often than not already extant, and we need to decide how and why to redesign them. Part of this task is rhetorical, part intellectual, part spacial and financial, etc. Phelps "locate[s] administration at the juncture of the practical and productive arts"--it's an art that is situated in a particular space with practical considerations, and it is one that produces something. Phelps explores the themes of complexity, contradiction, and improvisation and time. Writing programs are complex--they have a large number of factors to consider, such as people, curricula, physical spaces. They are contradictory--they "serve" several purposes, are located in several spaces (English, independent, cross-disciplinary, etc.). They require improvisation--rather than planning everything, they sometimes need WPAs to act and respond without fully knowing the results. Closely tied to this last point is Phelps's contention that we look at design as ongoing, as a process of continual redesigning.

Response: I remember that one of my interview questions was to lay out how I would design a "writing lab" (computer-equipped writing classroom), which didn't exist yet at my college, and support that design with theory. After I was hired (but before my contract officially started), I had to meet with an architect and work with the financial and maintenance arms of the college to actually design the room, order furniture, decide on software, etc. It was a tall order and a pretty stressful first task. I thought of this as Phelps described being asked to (quickly) design some physical spaces at Syracuse. What has saved me over the years is the concept of redesign. My lab has changed in a number of ways since its initial design (although we still have the desks and general classroom set-up I came up with), and when it was time to design another classroom, I and other writing faculty could talk about what we liked and didn't like about the first room and use it to design the second, which has also had several redesigns. I find this idea--that we work in a given context to continually revise and redesign and communicate to others the goals of the program and how these designs will further them--really helpful and productive.

Uses: Theory of design and a writing program.

Linda Adler-Kassner and Heidi Estrem, "The Journey Is the Destination," in _Organic Writing Assessment_, 2009

Summary: The authors describe the development of a writing assessment program at Eastern Michigan University. A key point to the piece is that assessment programs should be grounded in a particular context (they use the term "place"). Additionally, they used the assessment program to "make visible the work of first-year writing students in various ways across campus," and to have the results be useful--to instructors, students, and other constituencies on campus, including administration. One of the most compelling elements of the article is how the authors engaged the university community in a cross-disciplinary discussion about writing and what makes it good; then, they used several different mapping methods to produce an assessment process and rubric that reflected the values of that particular university. The resultant process yielded qualitative and quantitative data on students' portfolio writing that enabled them to revise (and explain) the writing program and its courses.

Response: I was taken with the authors' process of developing the assessment program and its emphasis on place. It seems like an elegant idea--find out what people in a specific context value and use that to guide the assessment. I also really liked how they drew together a diverse group: I felt like that would encourage the college as a whole to increase investment (both emotional and, one would hope, financial) in the writing program and to understand better what was happening in it. And I liked their emphasis on continual revision and the generation of meaningful assessment data, rather than just jumping through assessment hoops for compliance's sake. As someone who has co-developed and been involved in a writing assessment program for over a decade, though, I think their form may take too long to fill out and analyze. I have been caught myself in the bind between wanting lots of information and trying to make the process easy and quick enough so that faculty do not get burned out. (The longest form I designed, complete with Likert scales and fill-in-the-reason sections similar to the authors', was unmanageable. Instructors were spending as much as eight to ten hours assessing departmental portfolios on top of their other work. They took it with excellent grace, but in retrospect, I can't believe I wasn't burned in effigy.) Assessment is always a balancing act--do you statistically sample and use a more comprehensive form, thereby generating good data for the department but very little of use to individual students or teachers, or do you assess each student, which provides better data for instructors and student but necessitates a less time-consuming process for each portfolio, thereby generating less useful data for the department? I have not solved this problem yet.

Again, though, the process the authors described for developing their instrument was really excellent.

Uses: The design of an assessment program.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Rebecca Taylor Fremo, "Redefining Our Rhetorical Situations," in Dew and Horning, _Untenured Faculty as WPAs_, 2007

Summary: Based on her experiences as a WPA at a smaller, private college, Fremo identifies several ways graduates of larger schools may have to readjust to being a WPA at a small school. Much of the article is specific to her situation, yet has resonances with other works. She discusses, for example, how she must shift her identity rhetorically between contexts and audiences, and appropriates some rhetorical practices from marginalized groups to help her understand what she is doing and how to do it effectively. She draws from African American theory and feminist theory to develop a praxis of soft power--she writes that "WPAs at small schools must learn to develop authority and use that authority to wield influence in a far more collegial way" than their counterparts at larger schools (200). She conceives of herself as a "witness" to the writing program, a "knowledgeable and politically savvy storyteller" who models ways of thinking about writing to senior colleagues and those outside her discipline" (202). She also "pull[s] back from certain acts of truth telling on campus [...] to remake [herself] in the image of [her] colleagues" (203), highlighting commonalities between them and making gentle arguments based on these commonalities. She talks about the pressure to be more of a generalist at a small school and the absence of colleagues such as one might have at a larger school.

Response: As a former WPA at a small school (albeit not a private college such as the one Fremo teaches at), I found many of Fremo's observations to be right on the mark. I remember the WPA at my MA school--a very talented women whom I greatly respected--advising me to use my first year on the job to gather information, and not to change ANYTHING. Soon after being hired, I sat down with the Dean of Instruction to talk about what my goals were. I repeated my advice; he looked baffled, and said, "But Mark, you were *hired* to change things!" This was my first clue that the situation might be different here from what I was used to (both my undergrad and my MA were at Research I schools). And, like Fremo, I found that I was one of the key people colleagues outside of the discipline came to for advice on how to handle writing, and that I was expected to be on committees and make changes I found pretty scary as a brand-new, untenured faculty member. Fremo suggests that schools should prepare graduate students a bit better on the realities of working at smaller schools, and I agree.

Uses: WPA-ing at a small school; rhetoric and the WPA.

Alexander, "The Character of a Leader," ?

Summary: I'm not sure where this came from or when it was published, but it cites sources in the late aughts. Alexander draws from his experience in the intelligence community (as well as using quotes from a variety of classical and modern sources to bolster his argument) to identify and justify several key qualities of a leader. Alexander identifies his two main themes as "in leadership, character counts," and "effective leadership is necessarily predicated on the consent of the governed." He makes the point that you earn that consent not only by your performance, but by your character. Alexander takes issue with (his characterization of) post-modern situated morality, arguing that there are universal values and morals that a leader must tap into. His sources, examples, and argumentative structure are strongly masculine; however, there are interesting crossovers to some of the feminine leadership articles. For example, he argues that a leader's key functions include setting goals and a vision for the group, creating conditions that help the group work, providing resources, and getting her hands dirty and working alongside the group. He does not advocate micromanagement, but rather the empowerment of everyone in the group to decide how best to realize the vision. Alexander writes that "leadership comprises three basic elements [...]: character--purity of motive; vision--the ability to set a course of action against a difficult task; and effectiveness--the ability to successfully implement this vision and accomplish the mission." Among other qualities, he addresses command of rhetoric in detail as "one of the most essential skills you must develop to succeed as a leader." And his definition of rhetoric is, I think, quite fair and focused on how to articulate a plan or problem to different audiences within the organization. Alexander also explores respect for others (a necessary quality for a leader) and tribalism (a regrettable condition in all organizations and one that must be navigated by leaders), both of what are applicable to colleges.

Response: The tone in this piece was an abrupt shift from our other sources. However, I greatly appreciate the readings from non-English sources in this course; they provide some interesting perspective on how the wider world perceives leadership and organizations. I saw many resonances to the Ancient Greeks and Romans in Alexander's piece; they were also invested in the morality of leaders.  As I said above, I was also interested in the cross-overs between this piece and the leadership pieces I've read coming from a feminist perspective; I do not find them mutually exclusive.

Uses: Leadership, contrast between masculine and feminine styles.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Phelps, "Becoming a Warrior," in Phelps and Emig, _Feminine Principles_, 1995

Summary: Through a mix of narrative, theory, and reflection, Phelps explores the interrelationships between feminism, power, composition, and writing program administration. She complicates the sometimes oversimplified views of the feminization of composition and feminist utopias in which all power is equally shared, all views are valued, all people work together, etc. Instead, she asks what happens when we operate from a feminist moral and theoretical position within the academy is it really is--what happens when we take up power? How do we redistribute it, and what does that really look like? Phelps argues that changing the academy necessitates taking up power positions and "ethically hav[ing] visions, lead[ing], and wield[ing] power despite the imperfectibility of institutions and the tragic limitations of human action" (293). Phelps grounds her essay in her own experience as a WPA, but her argument is not limited to that context. She intersperses the text with quotations and reflections from her WPA years (and immediately before), which serves to incorporate a multitude of voices which surround and complement the central text. Phelps writes that in order to improve the academy, women need to seek out and accept positions of institutional power, despite the personal and professional challenges they bring; of her own experience, she writes that "it was vaguely but genuinely a moral decision responding to the summons to take up responsibility toward others, to act on my convictions" (306). In other words, one cannot theorize or "resist" forever without coupling that intellectual work with action. Phelps also confronts the challenges her attempts to empower the disempowered in the writing program resulted in for the actual workers, who were often ambivalent themselves about assuming a greater role in the program. An expanded role resulted in "a pressure on them to learn, change, take risks, be more creative, face the unknown" (311). Phelps writes that "an increase in authority, voice, and autonomy is not an unqualified good in and of itself. It does not automatically bring wealth, leisure, increased status, or pleasure" (312). Yet Phelps advocates for the application of feminist principles to the workplace all the same. Though not without its chaos and complications, the moves she describes (often in detail) are positive ones, not just for the program or its members, but also for women who decide to become leaders.

Response: I would like to talk much more about this when I get on campus. I thought this was a powerful article, and I wonder what things look like now. The vast majority of my mentors in my educational journey have been women, often in positions of leadership. They took up the mantle, as Phelps urges. What was that like? What is it like now for women (like Cheri!) who are leaders? Do they operate from an explicitly feminist perspective? Do they feel resistance from the institution, from senior faculty, from males?

Uses: A look at feminist perspectives, the feminization of composition, leadership, writing program structure.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Phelps, "Telling a Writing Program Its Own Story," in Rose and Weiser, _The WPA as Researcher_, 1999

Summary: Phelps has two components in this piece: a tenth-anniversary speech to the Syracuse writing program, which she excerpts here, and a reflection/contextualization in which she "examines the role of such rhetoric in writing program administration" (168). The speech has several key points--it tells some of the history of the program, but also asks how the program can continue to be inventive and vibrant, how it can continue to remake itself now that the initial flush of creation is over and it has become successful. Phelps draws parallels between the program's genesis and the functioning of "Great Groups" such as the ones responsible for Apple, the Manhattan Project, and Disney. She points to a key challenge for the program, which "quixotically attempted to inspire the whole teaching community to form itself into a Great Group" (171), in contrast to the (much) more selective formation of other Great Groups. Challenges were how to be inclusive, to operate on the edge of chaos, to keep the general trend forward. It worked; now, though, "we now risk the possibility of too much order" (175)--as a successful program, it is daunting to continue to experiment, to risk making wrong choices. However, Phelps argues that the changing landscape of the university and the environment outside it (demographics, technology, economics, etc.) requires constant change and reinvention.

In the reflection, Phelps changes tack, not only reflecting on the speech itself, but on crafting and giving speeches, especially as a woman. She discusses how "women WPAs are often ambivalent about the power of their office and conflicted about their own ethos as strong central leaders" (178), sometimes softening their position and silencing their voices. Phelps discusses her own struggles with claiming and exercising her voice, her determination to write and speak in public despite how risky it often felt. She also examines the rhetorical situation of the speech and her roll as a former WPA who also wanted to touch on the future. Finally, she writes that "in publicly playing the storytelling role to the hilt [in this article...] and interpreting it here in the context of leadership as intellectual and rhetorical work, I am arguing, especially to women inclined to deny or renounce authority in or for themselves, that it can be ethical to aspire to and wield such powers" (181-82).

Response: I commented in a previous post something along the lines that we may be post-feminist, that feminist management practices have integrated themselves in mainstream management enough so that we may not need an explicitly "feminist" lens anymore (at least in regards to management). I think I was incorrect. Phelps's piece has helped me understand more of the challenges still faced by women who choose to be in positions of institutional power. She describes a colleague who stated that she "always talked too much and wrote too much" (178). Wow. I am a particularly talkative male, granted, but I have not felt the challenges to exerting power or speaking my mind in public forums that she describes and I doubt many other males have, either. (I remember one of my mentors in my undergraduate career, a brilliant scholar and writing center director, telling me she would have probably majored in math except that she had to endure such humiliations as "girls' day" in her math classes, in which she and other female students would have to get up and do problems on the board in front of the male professor and male students.) I think things are changing--at my school, for instance, the president, two out of three deans, and two out of three associate deans are women, as is much of the other administration. But I bet others grapple with the same issues Phelps describes.

Uses: Inventiveness, continual renovation, women's experiences as administrators.

Phelps, "(Re)Weaving the Tapestry of Reflection," in Rhetoric Review, 1998

Summary: Phelps reflects on her history as a writer and teacher and interweaves responses and narratives (as a musician, I'd term them "riffs") from other teachers in the Syracuse writing program. In addition to telling Phelps's and her colleagues' stories, the essay also addresses the role and power of reflection in composition, teaching, and community. Phelps identifies reflection as "polysemous" (143), or a concept that contains many interpretations and definitions that are contextually defined. Phelps posits that her colleagues regard the multiple meanings of reflection as "a cluster of skills and attitudes related by the fact that they develop in relationship to one another over time" (145). Teachers set up situations for students to engage in and develop reflection as they learn to write--indeed, reflection is central to Phelps's view of learning to write. She also argues that it is central to the development of a professional community like a writing program--the teachers reflect on their own practice, on the program, etc., and they talk with each other about these reflections (and reflect communally).

Response: This piece connects not exactly with the structure of a writing program, but with its heart. It emphasizes the importance of community and dialogue and synergistic learning. It reminds me of how our part-time faculty at my school have said again and again that the most valuable thing they get from our departmental meetings is the time to share with each other--not just teaching ideas, but experiences. This strengthens our community and provides, I think, a sense of identity and shared work.

Uses: What to encourage/support in a program.

Phelps, "The WPA's Dual Identity," in Enos and Borrowman, _The Promise and Perils of WPA_, 2008

Summary: In this short piece, Phelps discusses the difficulties and affordances offered by WPAs' positions as (tenure-track) faculty and administrators. She notes that "the embodied person becomes identified with the 'office,' with the writing program itself," not only by others, but often by oneself (263), perhaps in part due to the emotional intensity inspired by the role's contradictions. Phelps writes that the two roles are volatile and "basically incompatible [...producing] an unpredictable mix of positive and negative synergies" (264). Navigating the roles requires flexibility and a view of the WPA as "transitory and unsustainable, not a permanent identity" (265). But the WPA role affords unique access and power in both roles--faculty and administrator--and can let a WPA promote positive change in both domains.

Response: This is a hopeful piece that provides an overview of a central conflict in the WPA and suggests ways to view that conflict as an opportunity.

Uses: The concerns and conflicts in the role.

Weick, "Sources of Order" and "Organizational Redesign as Improvisation," in _Making Sense of the Organization_, 2001

Summary: Wow! These chapters are chock-a-block with ideas--extremely productive ones. I can only gloss over them here, but the chapters are absolutely worth (probably several) careful reading(s). Weick writes that "order occurs in unexpected places and spans fewer people for shorter periods than we thought. [...Organizations] are organized anarchies [and] loosely coupled systems" (34). Weick's argument fits well with the "organized/directed chaos" theme I've been picking up on. Some key ideas in his piece are that an overemphasis on pre-planning and order can stifle the most productive processes in an organization: "When we design our next action, we don't build in enough chances to learn, experiment, improvise, and be surprised" (38). We should conceive of organizations as federations rather than monoliths and empower smaller groups to make decisions and generate ideas. Managers should "reduce ambiguity to tolerable levels" while still leaving room for improvisation (48). One should not over-privilege rationality, nor replicate past actions (we often have an imperfect understanding of what actions actually caused specific outcomes). We should be patient and "be willing to leap before you look. If you look before you leap, you may not see anything. Action generates outcomes that ultimately provide the raw material for seeing something" (53).

Weick also discusses organizational improvisation at length. Actors who improvise "have equivalent views of what is happening and what it means" (58), but they do not plan everything, instead leaving space for individual expression and the development of something new and, to a large extent, unanticipated by any individual. A section I found especially helpful was his discussion of bricolage (using "whatever resources and repertoire one has to perform whatever task one faces"), in which he writes that "what makes for skilled bricolage is intimate knowledge of resources, careful observation, trust in one's intuitions, listening, and confidence that any enacted structure can be self-correcting if one's ego is not invested too heavily in it" (63, my italics). Weick writes that, by necessity, we do not fully understand nor control organization's environments, outcomes, etc., and that by holding too tightly to intentional design, we "overlook the improvisational character of organizational design. [We] overlook the emergent designs that bubble up when capability changes. [We] overlook the ways in which interdependent actors become self-organizing in the face of underspecified designs" (88).

Response: These are pieces that absolutely must remain in the course. I found them exciting, empowering, and liberating. In terms of WPA-ing, I see Weick's ideas suggesting to administrate with a light hand, focusing on setting up an environment in which we agree on our goals and tasks, but then empowering smaller groups to investigate their own interests and generate their own solutions. I love the idea that these solutions are deeply contextual and unanticipated. I also think Weick's ideas suggest continual evolution of a writing program--we don't, for instance, develop a curriculum and then brush our hands off, problem solved. And I also like the lack of ego he advocates. These articles made me extremely excited to WPA.

Uses: They provide a broad understanding of a program. I played with the idea of advocating that these chapters come earlier in the course, but I don't think I would have understood them. They served to coalesce a lot of the ideas in earlier readings.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Kinney, "Fellowship for the Ring," in WPA, 2009

Summary: Kinney explores full-time non-tenure-track positions with a mix of personal narrative and theory. When she was ABD, she landed a full-time three-year position at Grand Valley State University in Michigan that provide most of the pay and many of the benefits of a tenure-track position, including office space, professional-development support, and the same teaching load as a tenure-track faculty member. (The college also had many full-time Affiliate Faculty--adjunct--positions that offered renewable contracts, good pay, and good benefits.) She argues that these positions offered a good alternative to the standard tenure-track, and that they greatly improved the lot of non-tenure-track faculty at GVSU. She credits much of her good experience to the independent nature of the GVSU writing program, which had recently separated from the English department. The good non-tenure positions allowed the writing program to hire composition specialists and people who wanted to teach writing and to retain them and help them develop professionally.

Response: I am glad to read this article. This is a hot issue, and one that has been discussed at my college. Kinney makes compelling arguments about how such positions greatly improve the lot of (currently) adjunct faculty. And she does address concerns about how such positions might serve as a disincentive for administration to hire more tenure-track faculty. This article didn't settle the issue for me, but Kinney is a strong, articulate advocate. Plus, she focuses on GVSU, which is in my state and which my son and father just visited for an excellent summer program.

Uses: How do we improve things for non-tenure-track faculty?

Hanson, "Herding Cats," in Ratcliffe and Rickly, _Performing Feminism and Administration_, 2010

Summary: This piece follows the pattern of narrative and reflection/theorizing. The narrative centers on Hanson's experience coordinating the Basic Writing program at Ball State. She identifies three main goals she focused on during her tenure--strengthening the community of the writing program, revising the undergraduate curriculum, and revising (and expanding) the faculty reward system. She discusses how her gender and her commitment to feminist goals influenced her administration. The most developed section is that in which she discusses community, and appropriately so, since a strong community is at the heart of the rest of her goals. It was also this section I found to be the most interesting, and I saw strong ties between Hanson's descriptions and the theme of "directed chaos" (I'm sure I'll come up with a better term than that) that is emerging from these recent readings. Hanson discusses how she strove to open lines of communication among her colleagues, how she chose to be titled "coordinator" to emphasize the community rather than a top-down leadership model, and how the faculty shared research, inquiry, and problem-solving. There is also a strong thread of locality and the contextual nature of solutions present in the work. Hanson writes that "contextual knowledge is ultimately what we must learn from, and the context is not a single administrator's, but that shared by every member of the community" (185).

Response: This was an interesting narrative. Hanson labels many of her leadership choices as feminist--seeking input from many sources, trusting her intuition over authority, privileging human relationships. These are certainly consistent with what I know of feminist theory; however, I think they are also consistent with other management suggestions/styles in many of the other readings that were not operating from a feminist viewpoint. This is interesting to me. Is it because feminist ideas/theorists/practitioners have successfully changed the way we manage from the more "male," autocratic practices of the past? I'm sure different people would answer that in different ways. Personally, I think there's a lot of merit to that interpretation. I know some would say that means we're post-feminist, but I think there's still a need for explicitly feminist praxis.

Uses: How to "manage" as a WPA.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Phelps, "Institutional Invention," from Atwill and Lauer, _Perspectives on Rhetorical Invention_, 2002

Summary: This is a densely written piece with many ideas that lead to many more, and it will be difficult to summarize in a small space such as this. First of all, Phelps uses "invention" in its rhetorical sense as well as its more commonly understood sense. She applies the idea to an institution reforming itself, and also to that institution serving as a productive space for its constituents. She critiques some recent theoretical and political moves in universities as being narrowly focused on resisting power and advocates a need for a more productive theory--a "so what" that enables institutions to move forward as spaces where they not only reinvent themselves, but also provide that needed space for faculty, students, community members touched by the university, etc. to grow. A centerpiece of Phelps's discussion is that we want to operate on the edge of chaos--we want to be complex enough to encourage creativity and change, but not anarchy. (She draws from biology to help contextualize this argument.) Phelps argues that this is the type of environment that affords invention: "to be innovative [...] a system must achieve an ordered state poised as close to chaos as possible [...] highly diverse and optimally interconnected. In human terms, an organization in this state would value risk taking, encourage open communication, and tolerate ambiguity, uncertainty, frequent failure, and mess" (81). Also, and (I think) quite challengingly, "the creativity of its members would collectively serve not only their personal intellectual goals but also its common purposes as an organization" (82). Phelps suggests some ways for this to be done, but the function of the piece is not to provide a roadmap, but to operate on a bit higher level. Phelps also explores the conflict between the autonomy of faculty members and the institution's needs, and suggests that this conflict is not insurmountable. She ends with a series of productive questions on institutional invention.

Response: The intellectual density of this piece required me to slow down and examine each point and its implications before moving on (probably a good idea anyway). Phelps's argument struck me as both familiar and new; I realized that I had encountered many of the parts before, but had not seen them put together in this way. I found this piece compelling and a good fit with the readings on how to view a writing program and how to use some of its principles and structure as a model in an institution. I was especially interested at the tensions between chaos and order and between the individual and the collective. I have seen those tensions at work at my college--a push from administration to have a common mandated textbook, an urge from both within and without the writing program for a set order of essays for each course, a resistance from some faculty to attend meetings and hallway comments that no matter what is said, he/she will continue to "do my own thing." And we are a really small program without the pressures to research/publish and without the diversity in faculty positions at a university. This piece speaks directly to these tensions, and while it does not, as I said above, provide a detailed roadmap, it does offer a theoretical goal.

Uses: The structure and concept of a writing program; the structure/revision of a college.

Phelps, excerpt from "Matching Form to Function," 2002 consultation speech at Michigan State

Summary: A key concept Phelps advocates in this piece is that of "enterprise": "the characteristic mode by which intellectual work is accomplished and evaluated at a college or university." She argues to expand "intellectual work" beyond publishable research, but also cautions that it needs to "invoke ideas and explore their consequences" and "be open to public assessment by peers and beneficiaries." When applying this concept to MSU's writing program, Phelps states that "a university writing program must have a core research faculty to authorize its teaching mission. But that isn't enough. [...A] writing program itself needs to accommodate and facilitate the whole range of work encompassed in the university mission, including research, professional service, and engagement with the community." Phelps writes that the first component is very similar to other departments, but the second one is different from most others. Integrating the two will be a challenge.

Response: My first response to this piece was to want to read the whole thing, since I received my undergraduate degree and teaching certification from MSU, as well as working in its writing center (and presenting at conferences and writing two pieces with other people there). In terms of the content of the piece, though, I had a pleasant flashback to Productive Theory and our discussions of the affordances of concepts, the one in question here being enterprise. Enterprise suggests (affords) different things than department or program or division or group--productive things, including a way of blending the different roles of a writing program so that they do not compete with one another, but complement each other. I appreciate the public nature of the work done in an enterprise--it doesn't suggest a "live and let live" philosophy (which sounds great but results in a splintered program), but it does respect individuality. Again, I'd like to know more about how MSU realized these ideas.

Uses: Productive ways to conceive of a writing program.

Phelps, "Institutional Logic of Writing Programs," in _The Politics of Writing Instruction_, Bullock and Trimbur, 1991

Summary: Phelps problematizes the dichotomy inherent in the question of whether writing programs should be in English departments or autonomous. She advocates an approach she views as more productive (I use the term to mean not just "better," but to refer to the concept of production, or producing something useful). Phelps asks how writing programs might embody and encourage the types of change universities might need: how can universities support research while also focusing on teaching; how can they support individual creativity while also encouraging communal problem-solving; how can they realize departmental autonomy while also strengthening connections between disciplines. Phelps addresses some current critiques of academia (including ProfScam, which I remember reading during my undergraduate years and totally agreeing with, while now thinking it is incredibly reductive, mean-spirited, and misguided--interesting not only in terms of my own progression but as how the arguments in it might be understood from someone outside and inside academia). Phelps argues that writing programs have and do engage the types of questions universities at large should address, and that they can serve as heuristics for universities as they try to change. Phelps writes that "the most important contribution I think writing programs can make, though, with respect to higher education at large, is to exemplify the struggle to foster community in the face of the prevailing mood of skepticism, critique of all cultural institutions and their traditions, radical individualism, and loss of fellowship that troubles our colleges and universities" (167). She also poses a series of key questions for writing programs to engage.

Response: This article is twenty years old, and yet I see most, if not all, of the concerns Phelps raises as being still relevant (as well as her suggestions and questions). The piece mostly fits with the "where do writing programs fit in the university" theme, but as is apparent from the summary, it addresses much larger questions. It served to make me think beyond the writing program, which is not only part of what Phelps is advocating, but also necessary for designing a good program.

Uses: Designing a writing program (central questions); re-vamping the university.

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Gappa and Austin, "Rethinking Academic Traditions"

Summary: This article provides a snapshot of the changing demographics of faculty and provides suggestions for how the academic workplace should change. The authors make the argument that "faculty members are an institution's intellectual capital. [...and] this intellectual capital is an institution's primary and only appreciable asset." (Amen!) Gappa and Austin note increases in women and people of color among the faculty and a decrease in full-time appointments. They also (this was news to me) note that "the academic fast track, or tenure track, at research-oriented universities is developing a bad reputation" for its lack of flexibility and overbearing workload. They suggest six "essential elements of faculty work": respect, employment equity, academic freedom and autonomy, flexibility, professional growth, and collegiality. They expand on these ideas in productive ways.

Response: This is a more complete and generalized exposition of the ideas in the Gappa and Trice piece, and similarly, the ideas are applicable for most faculty. The article provides some ideas for a WPA to think about--how the workforce is changing, job situations to fight for, etc.

Uses: It is quite up-to-date and provides a picture of the current professoriate and its concerns.

Gappa and Trice, "Rethinking Faculty Work and Workplaces for Women"

Summary: This short article discusses some of the changes in the academic workforce and environment over the past seventy years or so and suggests ways for academe to respond. As is suggested in the title, the focus is on women, but many of their suggestions make sense for men as well. The authors note the increase in women in academe and their challenges, such as balancing long work weeks with home responsibilities. Some women elect to avoid the tenure track for the promise of more flexibility, but then they face barriers to advancement, professional development, shared governance, and pay. Gappa and Trice suggest that academic institutions stress employment equity (for part-time faculty, clarity in hiring and firing, better compensation, better physical facilities), flexibility (for tenure-track faculty, flexible probationary periods and schedules), and collegiality (shared governance, abilities to use all campus facilities, etc.).

Response: As I mentioned above, these are good suggestions that apply to all faculty, not only women. However, I don't want to diminish the special concerns women tend to face more than men. For example, I have two young sons and am a very engaged father; however, I didn't notice my public identity changing upon their birth in the same ways my wife's did. Nor did I feel the same pressures to decide whether to go half-time, pursue further schooling, etc. as she articulated. Things have changed quite a bit since the 1940s, but some gender concerns and differences still persist.

I know that in our own PhD program, the issue of children/motherhood and how it may impact success in the program and academe is being discussed quite a bit. It has seemed, to me, to be a difficult discussion, with different parties feeling hurt or marginalized for their choices. This is simply not something that men have to deal with.

Uses: This article, as well as the one by Gappa and Austin, are very useful to give perspective on the changing workforce and some of the challenges faced by women who choose to be academics.

Phelps, "Fresh Eyes"

Summary: An excerpt from a keynote speech Phelps gave to the Syracuse writing program in 1999. This is a snapshot of the concerns and current issues of a writing program, and offers a different vibe and perspective than the other articles, although it touches on some issues common to the other articles. This address is actually "from the trenches" and offers an interesting case study of a writing program. Some of the issues covered in the speech are the constituent groups of the program (there are five major groups, all quite different, yet all deeply engaged in the program), the physical and financial space of the program, the curriculum, and the role of the director.

Response: I found the piece as a whole interesting, but there were several specific sections that particularly caught my eye. One was the diversity of the constituent groups in the program. This is different from my experience--at my school, we have full-time, tenured faculty, and part-time faculty. So I found this picture of how a program functions at a university very interesting. I also was struck by the amount of discussion of money and pay. Phelps discusses, for instance, the issue of the program controlling its own funds. That seems like a significant win (albeit one that comes with a headache). It frustrates me how composition is so frequently treated as a cash cow by the institution, yet we are so rarely put in charge of any of the funds it generates. I realize this speech isn't saying that the program would be in charge of all those funds, but the issue of funding and its connection to programmatic autonomy and respect is really significant. I was also struck by Phelps's statement that she disagrees with "the notion that the Writing Program is a zero-sum game in which benefits for one group will harm or take them away from another." Unfortunately, I think that negative perception is pretty widespread. (I know it exists at my school, and not just in the writing program.)

Uses: To provide a first-person, local perspective of a university writing program. Also, Phelps provides an outline of a possible role for a WPA.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Anson and Brown, "Subject to Interpretation," in Rose and Weiser _The WPA as Researcher_

Summary: This article portrays some of the challenges of the WPA through anecdote and analysis. I think the anecdotes are fictitious, but they ring true and are consistent with the other readings. The authors' focus is on the positioning of the WPA within the larger university context--they "want to explore the role of research in the work of WPAs from the perspective it its broader value and institutional legitimacy" (141). Anson and Brown write that "in order to represent themselves, their programs, their beliefs, and the products of their investigations, successful WPAs must critically read their institutions as complex educational cultures with powerful habits" (142). A WPA needs to navigate these currents. The authors focus specifically on WPAs attaining institutional authority (through research and publication), performing local research in the university, and interacting with other disciplines in the context of writing (such as what it means to other departments that we are "composition specialists" and how understandings of writing are discipline-specific).

Response: Interesting, as all the pieces are. This takes a middle ground between very local, specific narrative and more broad WPA concerns. The authors certainly expand beyond the narratives to make suggestions for what WPAs should engage at large. This piece didn't have quite the resonance with me that some of the other pieces did.

Uses: How the WPA functions in the institution. Also, to scare people, because the WPA in the anecdotes is denied tenure because the institution doesn't value her work. :) But she gets another job.

Shaw et al., "Analyzing Narratives," in Strickland and Gunner _The Writing Program Interrupted_

Shaw et al. "analyze the narratives of three writing program administrators (WPAs) of different rank and gender from the same institution who all held the same job. [...] Together, [their] narratives provide an institutional narrative about the program itself, a narrative that highlights the ways in which a writing program garners resources, support, and institutional prestige and status, while at the same time retaining many of the problems it has always enjoyed" (155). Winter was the first WPA--untenured, part-time for part of it, underpaid, advocating for a full-fledged writing program and a tenure-track WPA. Shaw was next, tenure-track, no budget, small support staff, still fighting for prestige, advocating the hiring of a senior professor. Then came Huot, professor in rank, larger budget and more support, greater hiring/firing privileges, greater curricular responsibility. The authors then analyze the narratives and draw several conclusions, such as the necessity of seizing upon institutional kairotic moments to make changes.

Response: This piece illustrates the power of narrative to represent a larger trend, and fits very well with the broader historical overviews I've read. It's the story not only of the people, but of an institution that began by exploiting its workers and viewing the WPA (and a writing program) as an afterthought to having a better job description and program. Yet the WPAs had to fight for every step. A chilling part of this article is that no one in the institution comes off as particularly "evil," just disengaged. I think this is probably much realer than a picture of a school where the administration and other faculty are anti-writing or anti-WPA; instead, they just don't care or think about it very much.

Uses: This is one of the best articles I've read for humanizing the process of professionalization of the WPA.

Heckathorn, "Moving Toward a Group Identity," in L'Eplattenier and Mastrangelo _Historical Studies_

Summary: Heckathorn uses text documents (publications, conference proceedings, interviews, etc.) to track the professionalization of the WPA from the 1940s to 1970s. She identifies two periods--Early (1940-1963) and Transitional (1964-1979)--that lead to the modern era. The Early Era begins to identify the WPA and engage compensation; in the Transitional Era, the identity of the WPA is more firmly established (the MLA job list features postings for WPAs, for instance), and journals begin to feature articles focusing on WPA issues more prominently. Heckathorn uses the advent of the WPA journal to mark the end of the Transitional Era. She writes that understanding the history of the WPA position means that "current and future administrators do not have to begin the fight for professional recognition at ground zero" (211).

Response: Heckathorn's article was quite interesting, especially as it tracked the growing self-identification of WPAs as WPAs, rather than as composition instructors with some administrative duties tacked on. It's a history of a field, but also of people trying to gain legitimacy in the university setting. She writes that "a professionalized identity was a critical step toward achieving other goals" (192), enabling WPAs to operate within their institutions from a position of (more) power. (However, as is seen in other readings, many WPAs still struggle for legitimacy within their institutions.)

Uses: To understand the early history of the field. This might work well paired with the histories and overviews of composition.

Friday, June 29, 2012

Phelps, "Composing Administration as a Writer"

Summary: Phelps discusses what it might mean to use writing as "a primary metaphor or source of administrative strategies."  She explores this idea in some detail. As a professional writer, a WPA might be predisposed to writing to learn and plan; to favor writing for those in the program to accomplish work; to "turn to writing experiences and writing theory for the metaphoric resources [necessary] to conceptualize and talk about administration"; to reflect through writing. Phelps gives and analyzes an extended example from her own time as WPA, pointing out how it reveals her "predisposition to think and act like a writer and to project the metaphors of writing and its theories onto administration." Phelps then lists "modes...for composing administration as a writer": making one's own writing the primary vehicle for administration, hosting a writing-intensive work environment, using writing as a metaphor to conceptualize administration, and writing about (and encouraging others to write about) administration.

Response: I find the idea of how metaphors influence how we see and operate as a powerful one. Related to Burke's terministic screens, this understanding of metaphor means that how we perceive administration (and a writing program, and a college, etc.) is filtered through how we conceive of it. Certainly our actions as an administrator are influenced by the same process. This article spoke to me on its face (I, too, conceive of myself as a writer, and it was interesting to explore how that might influence how I see my writing program and my role as WPA), but also on a more theoretical, generalized level. It suggests not only ways to act, but ways to perceive potential conflict in a program and college. (If I'm thinking of myself as a writer, what does that mean for my interactions with my colleagues and superiors who think of themselves as social scientists, or historians?)

Uses: To make you think! But also as a way to conceive of the WPA.

Gold, "Conclusion," from _Rhetoric at the Margins_

Summary: It is difficult to be sure (having only read the conclusion), but my guess is that Gold's goal is to establish a history of writing and rhetoric in higher education through the examination of three colleges' programs in the late nineteenth to early twentieth centuries. He draws from these histories to suggest ways we can "[recover] the full richness of the rhetorical tradition" (154). Gold suggests looking beyond English departments for rhetoric and integrating it more in many courses in the English department (not just FYC). He also suggests a stronger connection with students' lives, through the creation of "legitimate classroom communities" incorporating service learning, online forums, and other methods (155). He also suggests we acknowledge students' goals for personal and economic advancement instead of scorning them.

Response: This may be an article that could benefit from more contextualization in the classroom. It was difficult for me to see that he was saying much new. I'm sure this is in part because I haven't read the whole book. I think part of Gold's point is that when we push for a greater integration of rhetoric, we aren't doing anything crazy and new, but that we're actually returning to an established tradition. That's a useful thought.

Uses: Grounding the integration of rhetoric in history? Suggesting that WPAs try to advocate for rhetoric in other classes, not just those in English?

Valentine, "'Acting Out,'" in Strickland and Gunner, _The Writing Program Interrupted_

Summary: Valentine relies on Wenger's understandings of communities of practice to examine authority and agency in a writing center (and, by extension, in writing programs). She looks at three "disruptive" acts by graduate student consultants in the center and re-contextualizes them as examples of students trying to claim agency in an overly authoritarian environment. Valentine suggests that WPAs should attempt to structure programs to encourage agency from constituents (graduate students, in her examples, but her argument can be expanded to include pretty much everyone, especially those lower on the hierarchy such as part-time faculty). To return to Wenger, encouraging agency helps traditionally disempowered parties become more legitimate participants in the CoP.

Response: Valentine had me at her use of Wenger, whose concept of CoPs has been one I've found myself going back to a lot over the past year. I am surprised at how many of these readings have to do with writing centers--it reveals a blind spot I had prior to this course in that I had not conceived of writing-center directors as WPAs. This article (and the others I've read) was useful in opening my eyes to this bias. I think the argument is sound and necessary, especially for the newer WPA who might, due to feeling unsettled in the role, be over-authoritarian. This is similar to the new-teacher problem, where one feels as though one needs to hold on too tightly to one's authority and sees challenges everywhere. A key solution to both situations is a relaxing of the grip, as Valentine points out here.

Uses: Writing centers, WPA administrative structure and how our concepts influence our actions.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Liggett, "After the Practicum," Ch. 6 in Rose and Weiser, _The WPA as Researcher_

Summary: Many writing programs that employ GTAs have a required practicum in which those TAs learn the program and some writing theory. Liggett uses this article to explore what happens to the GTAs after the practicum--how their teaching changes, from whom they seek advice, and what impact keeping a teaching journal has. She gives a fairly detailed description of her methodology and results and finds that most teachers changed their pedagogy slightly to put their personal stamp on the course, and that they used the theory they got in the practicum to guide them (although few continued to read in composition studies). GTAs rely on a wide variety of people to get advice, although they predominantly rely on their peers. Many students kept journals and found them helpful. Liggett ends the article with a list of the changes she will make to her practicum based on her research findings.

Response: I find this piece interesting on two main levels. First of all, it is useful to see the aftermath of the practicum. I had one as an MA student (when I was a TA), and I found it very helpful for many of the reasons Liggett lays out, especially in forming the peer-to-peer networks I relied on through the program. Secondly, I thought this article modeled a WPA engaged in reflective practice. It took guts for her to research how useful the practicum was and whether the things she taught had staying power, and it took more guts to change her program based on what she found. This is the key value I see in the piece: Liggett serves as a model for aspiring WPAs.

Uses: Mostly for modeling, but also as a snapshot of how GTAs operate (and how a WPA should) at a university.

Durst, et al. "Portfolio Negotiations," in Huot and O'Neill, _Assessing Writing_

Summary: This article focuses on "the kinds of discussion and negotiation that take place around student writing in portfolio norming sessions" (219). The system at the school is that trios of teachers exchange portfolios and pass or fail each other's students (high stakes!). Before these evaluations, larger groups of teachers meet to norm. The authors provide transcripts of key conversations that took place during those norming sessions, illustrating the questions teachers had and the dissensus that often resulted. They see these conversations as productive and natural ("grading papers [is] another act of reading, as complex and varied as all acts of reading" (224)) opportunities for instructors to reflect on why they value what they do in writing and why they make the judgment calls they do. The authors examine the tension between trying to assure uniform standards and value the different perspectives in a group of teachers.

Response: This is another quite interesting snapshot of the realities of an assessment program. When the stakes are so high--students can pass or fail based on an outside reader--it's no wonder teacher tensions are also fairly high. There may be a bit of cross-over between this article and Martin's, so we may be able to cut one.

Uses: Assessment, but also professionalization of faculty.

Martin, "Outcomes Assessment," Ch. 4 in Rose and Weiser, _The WPA as Researcher_

Summary: Martin tracks the development of an outcomes-assessment program at her school. She argues that "outcomes assessment not only can help us to see what we are doing well and what needs attention, it can also help to increase the quantity and quality of faculty conversation about teaching and can provide opportunities for interested graduate students to participate in the design and execution of research with real-world significance" (41). Her group engaged the value of the FYC requirement, the value of the individual outcomes, and whether students were meeting them. She describes the evolution of the assessment program, from a relatively quick read of student portfolios with minimal norming or discussion. This resulted in highly divergent readings and faculty dissatisfaction. She then modified the program to include extensive norming and discussion and revised the assessment tools, resulting in better consensus and more faculty confidence in the process. She notes that the conversations were extremely productive and led the group to examine far more than just the essays at hand, but also the goals of the courses, the practices of the teachers, the relative value they placed on different writing issues, etc.

Response: This was an excellent and honest piece that not only provided a model of what (and what not) to do, but raised the point that good outcomes assessment, when undertaken not for compliance to some outside agency, but developed within a program, can spur really excellent conversations. I thought this piece was quite useful. It reminded me quite a bit of my own college's program, which I was strongly involved in starting and evolving. I've written about it here and here. (For some reason they yanked my byline in the second link, but the piece was originally published in Community College Week.)

Uses: This could be used to humanize the assessment effort and show that it can have benefits at the local class- and program-level if approached as a way to encourage dialogue and continually improve courses. It also has applicability to the professionalization of part-time instructors and developing cohesion in a department.


Wednesday, June 27, 2012

O'Neill, et al., Ch. 4 and Intro, from _A Guide to College Writing Assessment_

Introduction
Summary: The gist of this piece is that WPAs will have to come to terms with assessment, a major initiative at colleges nation-wide. The authors write that assessment often drives curriculum, and that a good WPA needs to take an active hand in developing and administering assessments to ensure that productive, research-based assessments are used, thereby improving the curriculum instead of taking it down a dark path to poor pedagogy. They encourage readers to see assessment as an opportunity. The authors also state that WPAs need to understand assessment so they can advocate for productive assessment to audiences--other administrators, the public, the state--that may be less versed in writing theory and practice.

Response: I agree!

Uses: It's a short read that makes a good point. It's also a necessary point (based on my experience), and one that WPAs should recognize. Of course, this could have a place in the assessment section. I wonder if the same points could be made in a different way--in class, or in a general post--but then, it's good to have a reading make that point. This is a possible one to cut, though. We would need some way to introduce assessment, if we did decide to cut it.

Chapter 4
Summary: This chapter focuses on the context of a writing assessment. By context, they mean the writing program itself--spatially, courses and curricula, students, faculty, administrators, etc. The authors give a series of questions to consider about many of these. The gist of the chapter is that an assessment program does not occur in a vacuum--if it is done well, it should be a local artifact, closely tied to its context. This is a very practical chapter that gives suggestions for how to analyze the context of a writing assessment to aid in its development.

Response: I would not get rid of this piece. It is easy to apply and makes an extremely good point. One can't just adopt an assessment program from another school or discipline and expect it to work. It needs to be grounded in the individual school. Still, I have seen people try to do just that--search the web for an assessment model and try to adopt it wholesale. So an article like this is needed.

Uses: The assessment section of the course. It also has some relevance to a basic understanding of a writing program and how the program itself is a local artifact.

CIP Codes

Summary: These are codes used by the Department of Education. They represent, I think, national understandings of what these terms mean (such as rhetoric and composition). The tables can be accessed here.

Response: Firstly, I noticed a good bit of overlap between the definitions (writing, professional writing, etc.). I'm not sure of the significance of these codes, to be honest, other than to show what the government thinks we're doing when we're studying, say, rhetoric. The website looks like you can use the codes to do research, but I found the site difficult to navigate.

Uses: I'm not sure.

Phelps, "Composition Studies," from Enos, _Encyclopedia_

Summary: This article tracks the development of composition studies from around the 1960s to the mid-90s. Phelps identifies major tensions and commonalities between the different sub-areas of comp. studies. She discusses the teaching tradition (and composition's still-remaining grounding in the practical), the new rhetoric ("composition is the inheritor of classical Western rhetoric"), and the new science (which draws on methodologies from other fields such as the social sciences and education). A major heuristic she uses to explain the field is "a process of equilibration between forces of expansion and differentiation" (126)--expansion in terms of what the field studies (traditional writing, multimodal writing, etc.) and differentiation in terms of, I think, growing differences of focus that sometimes threaten to tear it apart. Phelps describes different ways to hold the field together--the dominance of one paradigm, the inclusion of all, and dialogue between different perspectives. She also discusses the importance of practice to the discipline.

Response: This article serves as an excellent introduction to the discipline. It is extremely readable and does a great job of outlining the different areas of interest in the field and showing the tensions. The publication of date of the book is 1996--I wonder what has changed? From my perspective, the digital dimension has been growing like wildfire, and I wonder if there could be another article that speaks to that that could perhaps be paired with this one.

Uses: This would be good early in the course to provide a basic description of the field to those students who are unaware of composition's history. It is important to understand the discipline, I think, before we get into the administration aspect.

Monday, June 18, 2012

Blog Community Analysis


For a definition of community, I draw from Lave and Wenger’s discussion of Communities of Practice (CoPs) and Garrison and Vaughn’s outline of Communities of Inquiry (CoIs). These theorists provide a useful map for the type of community desirable in a graduate program, and their theories can be extrapolated to apply to first-year composition as well.

Lave and Wenger address CoPs in the context of situated learning, in which what and how the learner learns is a function of his or her participation in the community. Lave and Wenger’s CoPs are always doing something—the “practice” component of the term—rather than simply existing. A learner begins on the periphery of the community and, by developing the skills, knowledge, and identity valued within the community, gradually becomes a full member with the ability to shape the community. This process involves more than memorizing certain facts or writing a certain way: Lave and Wenger write that “learning involves the whole person; it implies not only a relation to specific activities, but a relation to social communities—it implies becoming a full participant, a member, a kind of person. […L]earning involves the construction of identities” (53). More on this in a minute.

Garrison and Vaughan’s CoIs may be seen as a subset of CoPs that is focused within the classroom (virtual or physical). Garrison and Vaughan define a CoI as “a unifying process that integrates the essential processes of personal reflection and collaboration in order to construct meaning, confirm understanding, and achieve higher-order learning outcomes” (29). Through a blend of social, cognitive, and teacher presence, CoIs contain mutually supportive members who have “a sense of belonging” (21) and who identify, explore, and attempt to solve problems (22). The teacher “establishes the curriculum, approaches, and methods; [she] also moderates, guides, and focuses discourse and tasks” (24).

These two frameworks become useful when we consider that the blog assignment was given in the context not only of an individual course, but in the larger context of a graduate program. To my knowledge, the majority of the students in the course are in the PhD track; although individual goals differ, one accepted goal of PhD programs in general is to prepare students to become members of the academic community. Seen through Lave and Wenger’s lens, the “practices” of the academic community include critical reading and thinking, knowledge-making, inquiry, and discourse. Doctoral students begin on the periphery of this CoP and move toward full membership. As Lave and Wenger point out, full participation involves a shift in identity—we not only learn how to write in an academic way, we become academics.

The blog postings served to move us toward full participation in several ways. Firstly, the critical reading and analysis of research are key practices in academia, as is learning to write robust, concentrated, analytical prose that engages that research. Secondly, the blogs were public, which is important to the assignment: in academia, we engage in public discussion of ideas through publication. This serves to distribute knowledge freely and to open our ideas to criticism by our peers, which is vital to the continual evolution of understanding (knowledge-making) that is a central goal of academia. Learning how to publically critique research and post our own ideas moves us closer to full participation in the academic CoP. Thirdly, we can read and comment on each other’s blogs, which, in effect, represents a microcosmic Burkean Parlor in which we can share and debate ideas (the extent to which this last goal was realized will be discussed later).

The blogs also functioned well as part of a CoI, especially when seen as a component of the entire course. By asking us to critically read and respond to articles connected to the course outcomes, the blogs encouraged us to employ personal reflection and construct meaning. Additionally, we had to discuss why we would (or would not) recommend the article to others in our field, which asked us to engage not only the class community, but the academic community at large. While individual students’ paths of inquiry differed, they could be seen as diverging from the central course question of how best to teach writing from a distance, and can also be seen as a collaborative attempt to answer that question.

Whether the collaborative aspect of CoPs and CoIs was addressed to its fullest with the blog assignment is worth further inquiry. As I have discussed above, the blogs required us to engage with the scholarly community at large. However, the assignment as written did not require the same level of engagement with the class community. Individual course members commented on blogs to differing levels. (I have not done a systematic study, and am basing my conclusions on my observations of my own and others’ blogs.) The comments varied, sometimes suggesting connections to another article or providing another perspective, and sometimes amounting to a well developed “good job.” There was not a high level of collaborative inquiry and debate as might be hoped for in a CoI.

However, as a learner, I did not find this aspect to be problematic. As I have written above, the blogs were valuable even without strongly encouraging engagement with the other class members. The in-class discussions have been particularly robust and draw from readings, experience, and analysis. We have also had frequent collaborative projects that have required us to apply our knowledge in ways fully consistent with both the CoP and CoI concepts—the Blackboard-mediated project in which we were members of a school technology committee, for example, was exactly the type of thing we would have to do as full members of the academic community. These collaborative projects were, in my estimation, the key spurs to the development of course community.

The blog assignment could be modified to require more cross-student engagement. One way would be to use the collaborative class projects as a model: students might be assigned in groups (or self-assign based on interest), and each group would have the task of answering a central question about teaching writing from a distance. The blogs could be seen as pre-writing in which they looked much the same as they do now, but they would be focused on gathering and processing research to be used to answer the group’s central question. Groups would then need to engage with each other’s blogs as they moved forward in their process of inquiry. Chi-Cheng Chang found a positive correlation between class groups’ online discussion performance and the quality of collaborative class projects, suggesting that a collaborative project of the type I outline above might be enriched by incorporating a blog aspect.

I am not sure I would argue for this change, however. The blogs functioned quite well as they currently are, and their structure allowed students to pursue their individual interests, which probably increased engagement. Also, as I have said above, they met many of the key criteria of CoPs and CoIs.

They might also be useful in FYC courses. Many writers have explored the affordances of blogs in composition classes—Charles Tryon writes that encouraging FYC students to read, write, and rhetorically analyze blogs “provoked one of the most productive conversations [he has] ever enjoyed with students about writing, specifically in terms of the relationship between writing and audience. […S]tudents quickly grasped the importance of interactivity in the blog world” (130). Shu and Wang found that using blogs in college reading courses increased student retention, probably because “blogging activities increased the members’ interaction and helped them form a learning community in which they could make friends quickly and easily, offer comfort and support to one another, exchange relatively private information about school work and social life, and offer suggestions to deal with academic problems” (n.p.). Ben McCorkle successfully used blogs in a basic-writing course to encourage students “to participate in the academic conversation [and validate] their voices as engaged citizens with real opinions on issues that mattered to them” by having students post reviews of other blogs, a book, and individual topics that they found “newsworthy” (n.p.).

However, the community of the FYC class is significantly different from that of our class. The CoP of FYC might be seen as that of undergraduate academics, but that could be debated, and certainly their membership is likely to be more temporary than we hope ours will be in the wider world of academia. The CoI framework holds more promise for FYC—many schools offer themed FYC courses that examine art or science or literature, and it would be relatively easy to frame a themed FYC class around inquiry into some key questions. Blogs could be a part of that inquiry; however, they should not be seen as leading directly to the development of a class community.

In sum, the blogs were effective in our course, and they were consistent with the CoP and CoI concepts. There are ways in which the assignment could be modified to increase collaboration, but since collaboration was reinforced in multiple other areas of the course, such modification is not necessary.



Works Cited
Chang, Chi-Cheng. “A Case Study on the Relationships between Participation in Online Discussion and Achievement of Project Work.” Journal of Educational Media and Hypermedia 17.4 (2008): 477-509. Print.

Garrison, D. Randy, and Norman D. Vaughan. Blended Learning in Higher Education. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2008. Print.

Lave, Jean, and Etienne Wenger. Situated Learning: Legitimate Peripheral ParticipationCambridge: CUP, 1991. Print.

McCorkle, Ben. “English 109.02: Intensive Reading and Writing II, ‘Reading, Writing, Blogging.’” Composition Studies 38.1 (2010): 108-127. ProQuest. Web. 8 March 2011.

Shu, Hui-Yin, and Shiangkwei Wang. “The Impact of Using Blogs on College Students’ Reading Comprehension and Learning Motivation.” Literacy Research and Instruction 50.1 (2011): 68-89. ProQuest. Web. 22 Feb. 2011.


Tryon, Charles. “Writing and Citizenship: Using Blogs to Teach First-Year Composition.” Pedagogy 6.1 (2006): 128-132. Print.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Blog Post #5


Halio, Marcia Peoples. “Teaching in Our Pajamas: Negotiating with Adult Learners in Online Distance Writing Courses.” College Teaching 52.2 (2004): 58-62. Print.

Halio focuses her article on the challenges of responding to online students’ emotion-charged e-mails. This is a subject I have been interested in for some time, having experienced a number of emotional e-mail exchanges from both my online and face-to-face students. Halio’s article does not provide absolute answers; instead, it is structured to pose observations (mostly centered on one class that is representative of her experience) and suggest eight key questions for online writing teachers to address.

Halio uses research to contextualize her observations, but the bulk of the article is drawn from her analysis of e-mail archives from one specific online FYC course “for returning adult students” (59). Halio does not discuss how such students are filtered into (or choose to take) the course, but the eight students she describes are, indeed, returning students of non-traditional ages, mostly working and some with families. She notes a difference between both the volume and the content of the female and male students’ e-mails: “[w]omen’s messages often demonstrate their preoccupation with caretaking issues” and request emotional reassurance that they will succeed in the course (59); they also, as a group, write far more messages than the male students. The males “write angry messages challenging the structure of the course or questioning the usefulness of assignments […or] angry messages in response to feedback on assignments[….E]mail messages from male students are often subversive” (59).

The gender differences Halio observes are a key component of her article. Five out of eight of her questions—whether men and women approach online courses differently, how to help women find supportive networks, whether we should change assignments to focus on care-giving, how to help women “take charge of their own paths through our courses” (61), how to help male students take criticism better—focus on different approaches for each gender. These questions, as well as the more gender-neutral ones such as how to help students cope with stress and how to “avoid becoming therapists for our students” (61), are interesting and worth examination.

Perhaps because I am male, it seemed to me that Halio’s conclusions about female students were better supported than those about the males. She grounds her discussion about female students with several specific citations from three separate sources, but she does not cite any sources to support her analysis of male students. As I said above, the article is primarily based on her observations, and it is fair to note that the studies of female students she cites were probably discussing how female and male students differed, and so could be used to speak to male students. However, this is an area of the article I wished had more than anecdotal evidence. As a male adult distance student (admittedly in a different socioeconomic and cultural situation than her students), I have never written an angry e-mail to a professor; nor did I in my MA or undergraduate experiences. And while I have not systematically analyzed my e-mails from my own distance students, I would not agree that I have seen the same things noted by Halio.

However, this does not mean the article is not useful. Her questions at the end of the piece are good ones to address when building a course, and get back to the teacher’s responsibility to design a course that works well for students while also managing the workload and emotional stress of teaching. 

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Blog Post #4


Prensky, Marc. “H. Sapiens Digital: From Digital Immigrants and Digital Natives to Digital Wisdom.” Innovate: Journal of Online Education 5.3 (2009): n. pag. Web. 5 June 2012.

Prensky is the originator of the term “digital natives,” which has gained widespread (albeit not unconditional) acceptance since he coined it in 2001. I decided to see what Prensky had written more recently.

In this article, Prensky suggests that the distinction between digital natives (those who have grown up with digital technology) and digital immigrants (those who have not) will become less relevant as time goes on, presumably because the digital immigrants will die off, or at least become less influential. He advocates an increased emphasis on the development of “digital wisdom,” which he defines as “a twofold concept referring both to wisdom arising from the use of digital technology to access cognitive power beyond our innate capacity and to wisdom in the prudent use of technology to enhance our capabilities.” By the first statement, he means making wise choices aided by technology—accessing health systems to improve patient care, for example. In the second statement, Prensky is referring to critical technology use, which he does not explore in the same detail as the first point. This is probably because the bulk of the article does not itself exhibit this second quality of digital wisdom, but consists of a list of the ways in which digital technology will improve our lives, such as “enhancing our ability to conduct deeper analyses.” Prensky writes that “digital technology is making us smarter.” He does not qualify this sentiment; while he does write that “every [technological] enhancement comes with a trade-off,” he doesn’t characterize any negative components of these trade-offs as meaningful, but as necessary sacrifices in service of positive progress. “The unenhanced brain,” Prensky writes, “is well on its way to becoming insufficient for truly wise decision making.”

I am no Luddite, but I found this article somewhat chilling in its unconditional boosterism of technology. Similarly to his famous “digital natives” article, Prensky cites very few academically valid sources, and those he does cite are only examined in the most superficial way. Ironically, according to his reference page Prensky has accessed the majority of his sources digitally; yet rather than exemplifying digital wisdom, his article embodies its opposite.

I would not recommend this article to my peers. However, Prensky raises a few points that are useful in planning how one might teach writing in a digital space. He writes that “as we offer more courses in digital literacy, we should also offer students guidance in developing digital wisdom [...] by letting students learn by using new technologies, [with teachers] putting themselves in the role of guides, context providers, and quality controllers.” This is excellent advice, and would serve students much better than the arbitrary limits some writing teachers impose on their students’ technology use. Teaching students critical technology use requires that we teachers approach technology with an open mind ourselves and move away from overly simplistic guidelines such as minimum numbers of non-electronic sources in a paper or word-processing being the only acceptable classroom technology. We need to exhibit digital wisdom ourselves so we can teach it to our students.


Monday, June 4, 2012

Blog Post #3


Smith, Cheryl C. “Technologies for Transcending a Focus on Error: Blogs and Democratic Aspirations in First-Year Composition.” Journal of Basic Writing 27.1 (2008): 35-60. Print.

In “Technologies for Transcending a Focus on Error,” Smith describes a blog project she undertook in a first-year composition class and suggests that it might be productive to explore similar projects in the basic-writing classroom. For her project, she created a class blog that she used primarily as a space for “pre-writing exercises [she] called ‘meditations,’ which would lead up to the three longer, formal essays” (41). Smith posted a variety of prompts on the class blog and encouraged her students to write longer, experimental pieces in response to the prompts and to reply to each other’s posts. She discouraged a focus on grammar, encouraging students to “try on writerly identities, try out ideas and claims, and test different styles for approaching those claims” (41). For one prompt, she also encouraged students to incorporate YouTube videos in their posts. For the most part, students responded very positively, both to the blog idea itself and to each other’s posts.

Smith’s approach rests upon several key understandings. Firstly, she adheres to the belief that “students at all levels, from basic to advanced, and with all degrees of academic experience, are likely to have had their minds and writing styles impacted by their exposure to technology. […] Basic writers are as likely as their peers to come to college with a determining Web 2.0 fluency” (36). Secondly, she sees blogs, specifically, as being democratizing through their “unique potential to free the writer’s voice that can especially empower those students who lack confidence in their language skills or are otherwise struggling. Further, by giving participants equal access to a public voice in a forum that is familiar to many young people, blogs create a safe place for risk-taking and error” (38).

Both of these understandings are worthy of examination. It is probably true that many traditional-age students have significant familiarity with Twitter, blogs, Facebook, and other social media. However, as Pavia points out in the article I blogged on previously, we should be wary of assumptions that ALL students, especially those in our basic-writing classes (because of the higher prevalence of working-class students), share a given level of comfort—let alone fluency—with Web 2.0. Additionally, as Smith notes herself, a blog might not be seen by all as a safe place. She describes an episode where students used the blog to critique a class project, and then interpreted her response to that critique as embodying the message “watch what you say” (48). Students became more timid in their posts, and Smith had to work to reestablish a more open environment on the blog.

Despite these concerns, I see Smith’s experiment as worth trying. One way I might proceed in the fall is to establish a private class blog for the developmental students in my ALP section. This could provide my basic writers with a space to experiment and pre-write, as well as develop a community where they do not feel any pressure of having their writing read by the college-level students. As I learned from past blog experiments—and as Smith recommends—one key will be good prompts. I like Smith’s idea of using the blog as a pre-writing space, but I may also incorporate prompts that address other topics to give students a chance to write on diverse topics.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Instructional Tool Presentation

Here is a link to my Instructional Tool PowerPoint. I'd recommend downloading it so that my narration plays.

LINK

Blog Post #2--Teaching Writing at a Distance


Pavia, Catherine Matthews. “Issues of Attitude and Access: A Case Study of Basic Writers in a Computer Classroom.” Journal of Basic Writing 23.2 (2004): 4-22. Print.

In “Issues of Attitude and Access: A Case Study of Basic Writers in a Computer Classroom,” Catherine Matthews Pavia describes the experiences of two basic writers in her computer-equipped basic writing course and uses their stories to enrich her pedagogy. Pavia cautions her readers that all students do not have computer experience and access, and that that computers should not be seen as unequivocal tools of empowerment for basic writers.
            Pavia begins by presenting research that “still tends to paint an idealistic picture” of computers in basic-writing classrooms, characterizing technology as increasing student motivation, enjoyment of writing, and writing volume, and portraying students as comfortable and experienced with computers (5). Pavia complicates this view by focusing on two of her students who wrote less on computers and frequently chose to write by hand. She interviewed each student, took notes on their writing, and asked them to write about their own experiences with computers. The students were not selected randomly, and Pavia’s study should be seen as a discussion of specific circumstances rather than easily generalizable research, but the students’ experiences and Pavia’s conclusions are helpful to the basic writing teacher who wants to consider how best to reach all of her students.
            The students’ specific experiences differ, but there are many similarities. Both are low-income, and neither came from households with extensive computer usage. Neither student likes to write. Both have a positive view of computers, “reflect[ing] society’s positive and idealistic views about computers and the benefits of computer literacy” (12), yet both dislike writing with computers even more than they dislike writing in general. Much of this dislike seems to stem from unfamiliarity with computers—neither can type well, and both produce much less writing when using computers than do their classmates. Neither has access outside of class to an up-to-date personal computer. Pavia writes that for these two students, “writing on computers in the classroom did not lead to more empowerment when viewed from a more short-term focus on the class itself” (16). In fact, the technology “may lead students to doubt their [writing] abilities when what they really need is confidence” (17).
            In light of her research, Pavia now has students write “technology narratives” early in the semester in which they describe their past experiences with computers and current attitudes toward technology. She adapts her course to her students’ experiences. She has also added basic computer instruction to the course and assigns some writing assignments to be completed by hand. Finally, she “avoid[s] assignments in basic writing classes that might subsume writing by involving technology in the writing process in even more complicated ways than word processing does” (19)—in other words, no multimodal or Web authorship.
            As I mentioned above, Pavia’s research is not easily generalizable. However, I would still recommend this article. In addition to the value of her conclusions and her excellent critique of the overly rosy characterization of computer usage in basic-writing classes, her description of how she adapts each class to the specific students she has serves as an excellent model for other teachers.

Pedagogical Tool Review


Pedagogical Tool Review
Introduction:
            Next semester, I will begin teaching an accelerated-learning course (ALP) in which developmental writing students are integrated into a college-writing class and asked to do college-level work. The developmental students will receive additional support, and one of my goals is to provide much of this support in a way consistent with a blended online/face-to-face classroom.
            I have taught developmental writing for a little more than a decade, and one of the key ways I have found that developmental students lag behind their college-level counterparts is in their command of standard written grammar (SWG). While the power dynamics and even the existence of a “standard” written grammar have been challenged (Barbier; Smitherman), it has also been well established that students—especially those who already come from outside the culture of power—are disadvantaged in the workplace and academia by their uncertain command of generally accepted grammatical conventions (Beason; Delpit). I choose to move forward by stressing to my students that so-called standard grammar is something they should learn for a specific purpose: to get ahead in school and work. They should employ it in much the same way they employ their good set of clothes for a job interview—SWG can get them in the door and set them up for success.
            Unfortunately, I have been frustrated by how challenging it is to teach SWG. Even when students accept my rationale for learning it, they exhibit resistance and fear inculcated by years of inept and often punitive grammar instruction. I have responded in several ways, including writing my own handbook on basic grammatical ideas and punctuation that grounds the concepts in rhetorical context and draws its examples from articles we read in class. My methods have been well received, but I am still searching for better ways to address grammar.
            In keeping with my goals to make my ALP class a blended environment, I decided to search for free computer-based games that addressed basic grammar. While there are numerous grammar resources online, most of them (including those offered by the major textbook companies) are strongly reminiscent of the blue mimeographed worksheets I remember (with nausea) from my youth. I do not want a drill-and-kill approach; instead, I want relaxed, fun learning that does not remind students of their past grammar instruction. It took a surprisingly long time to find non-worksheet-based grammar games that might be applicable for a college developmental student, but I did find two worth exploring: one on the web, and one for the iPad, which I included because of the prevalence of i-devices among my students and my school’s current project to explore student and instructor iPad usage.

Description:
            Grammar Ninja: This game is featured on multiple sites; the one I reviewed was at http://www.wordgames.com/grammar-ninja.html. The purpose of the game is to help players learn parts of a sentence, such as nouns, verbs, pronouns, adjectives, etc. The premise is that you are a ninja who throws stars at the parts of speech that are called for in a sample sentence. You can choose from three levels of difficulty—the higher ones add in additional parts of speech—scribble notes on the screen, ask for a hint, and finally throw your star into the correct word. The game will indicate whether you are correct or not and will provide help if you are incorrect. At the end of a question set, the game provides feedback based on how long it took you and the percentage of correct answers and gives you a “ninja rank.” The game also features fun music and decent graphics.

Grammar Ninja Front Page
                            
Grammar Ninja Game Page

Grammar Ninja Final Score

            wiseHopper: This is a free iPad or iPhone app. The game allows you to play with math, words, or grammar. The basic premise is that you are an insect trying to hop across a stream before being eaten by a giant frog. In the grammar game, you progress in order from verbs to pronouns, adverbs, adjectives, and conjunctions. The game gives you a sequence of sentences that scroll across the stream in opposite directions; it then prompts you to identify, for instance, verbs, and you, as the insect, have to hop on the appropriate word in each sentence. After you make it across a few sentences, the giant frog appears and begins to hop after you, increasing the pressure to decide on the right word to hop to. If you choose the wrong word, your insect falls into the river. If the frog catches you, you get eaten. (For those readers of a certain age, the game is very reminiscent of Frogger on the Atari.) Once you make it across the stream, the game tells you your time, and you can try to beat your best time. The graphics have limited animation but are quite pleasing.

                          
wiseHopper Front Page                     

wiseHopper Game Play

Review:
            Grammar Ninja: This game seems targeted to the middle-school level, judging by the level of the graphics, which are cartoonish (albeit well done) and the task itself. Additionally, the sentences are not based in the students’ own writing, nor in the context of a finished piece by another writer. This lack of rhetorical context makes the game problematic. Research has suggested that direct skill instruction has little, if any, positive effect on student writing (Hartwell; Tchudi and Mitchell).
            However, many of the students in developmental courses have around a middle-school understanding of basic grammar. Discussions of relatively simple, yet important, concepts such as complete sentences are made more complex by students’ limited understandings. As Beason demonstrated, it is important for writers’ ethos that they learn to write complete sentences and to avoid fused sentences reliably. In past classes, when I have tried to reduce complete-sentence tests to simple formulations (“Look for a noun, verb, and complete idea.”), I have encountered difficulty because students are not able to identify nouns and verbs. I have decided that some basic understandings of parts of speech may be necessary for us to have a productive conversation.
            As one of my principle goals with the ALP course is to help students to conceive of themselves as college material, the level of the game concerns me. They have work to do to get to the college level; however, I worry that the basic nature of the game may serve to highlight for them how far they need to come. I do not want them to think that I conceive of them as middle-school students. However, it is difficult to predict student perceptions. A colleague of mine has used Grammar Ninja in her developmental writing classes and reports that many of the students, especially the males, love it. They found the rankings at the end to be motivational, and got competitive with each other to attain the highest scores.

            wiseHopper: This game is similarly targeted to much lower than a college-level student. However, I found myself more engaged than with Grammar Ninja; somehow, the pursuit of the frog intensified the game for me and made me more focused. (Or maybe it’s because I always liked Frogger.) The quality of the graphics was pleasing and did not seem insulting, and the pressure of the frog increased the difficulty in a positive way. The game does not give hints or the same quality of feedback for missed answers as Grammar Ninja, but if you fall off into the river because you answered something wrong, it highlights your correct answers in the previous sentences, making it easy to hop back to where you messed up.
            Somewhat confusingly, wiseHopper does not recognize helping verbs. For example, in the sentence “I am writing an essay,” wiseHopper would count hopping onto “am” to be a mistake and “writing” to be the only correct option. While this is not a deal-killer for the app, it would require a “grammar-speak” explanation to the students, which is one thing I am trying to avoid.
            Like Grammar Ninja, wiseHopper does not provide any rhetorical context for the sentences it includes, and it suffers from the same pitfalls as other methods of direct skill instruction. However, it might serve as a precursor to more effective grammar instruction by helping students learn basic grammar vocabulary and the ability to recognize parts of speech.

Discussion:
            We know that grammar usage can serve as a socioeconomic marker and influence how others see us (Beason; Gorrell; Lynch-Biniek). We also know that grammar is best addressed rhetorically—as an element of the transaction of meaning between writer and reader—and not with piecemeal sentences divorced from context (Dawkins; Williams). Neither of these programs follows these best practices, and both are more closely aligned with the teaching of grammar as a series of isolated and absolute rules.
            However, I plan to try them this fall, and I would urge other teachers of developmental writing to give them a careful look. When used narrowly as a relatively painless way to build a common grammatical vocabulary and improve sentence recognition, they may have merit. The competition and video-game-like feel might engage students in an otherwise boring subject, and when used for a short time early in the class, the software might provide a scaffold for basic writers to engage grammar in a deeper, more rhetorical way as the class progresses.



Works Cited

Barbier, Stuart.  “The Reflection of ‘Students’ Right to Their Own Language’ in First-Year Composition Course Objectives and Descriptions.” TETYC 30.3 (March 2003): 257-67. Print.
Beason, Larry. “Ethos and Error: How Business People React to Errors.” CCC 53:1 (September 2001): 33-64. Print.
Dawkins, John. “Teaching Meaning-Based Punctuation.” Teaching English in the Two-Year College 31:2 (December 2003): 154-162. Print.
Delpit, Lisa. Other People’s Children: Cultural Conflict in the Classroom. New York: New Press, 2006. Print.
Gorrell, Donna. “Style and Identity: Students Writing like the Professionals.” Teaching English in the Two-Year College 32:4 (May 2005): 393-402. Print.
Hartwell, Patrick. “Grammar, Grammars, and the Teaching of Grammar.” College English 47 (February 1985): 105-27. Rpt. in The St. Martin’s Guide to Teaching Writing. Eds. Robert Connors and Cheryl Glenn. 3rd ed. New York: St. Martin’s, 1995: 370-393. Print.
Lynch-Biniek, Amy. “Bemoans, Belittles and Leaves.” Teaching English in the Two-Year College33.1 (2005): 29-37. Print.
Smitherman, Geneva. "CCCC's Role in the Struggle for Language Rights." CCC 50.3 (1999): 349-376. Print.
Tchudi, Steven, and Diana Mitchell. Explorations in the Teaching of English. 3rd ed. New York: HarperCollins, 1989. Print.
Williams, Joseph M. “The Phenomenology of Error.” CCC 32 (1981): 152-68. Rpt. in Composition in Four Keys: Inquiring into the Field. Eds. Mark Wiley, Barbara Gleason, and Louise Wetherbee Phelps. Mountain View: Mayfield, 1996: 163-175. Print.