Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Response to The Art of Teaching Writing by Lucy Calkins
I have found over the years that students are much more willing to follow guidelines when they understand that there is a purpose—and even research—to support them.
Friday, July 10, 2009
A Response to Emig
By Janet Emig
In her piece, Janet Emig poses the question, “What if it is just as natural to write books and read them as it is natural to die or be born?” This question inspired me to really think about how language developed, its purpose, and just how I teach literacy in my classroom. First, let me say that I don’t believe writing can happen “just naturally,” at least in terms of advancing young writers to an acceptable point. For example, if I want my students to write more descriptively, I can’t just say, “You need to write more descriptively,” and leave it at that. (In the beginning of my career, I honestly struggled with how to get my students to write more descriptively beyond simply teaching about adjectives or adverbs as discreet sub skills) Rather, I need to be intentional while weaving the idea of purpose when discussing with students how they can make their writing more descriptive; in fact, it’s not about being descriptive, it’s about making writing more interesting to compose and read.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
A Response to James Britton
James N. Britton
I think Britton’s big ideas concerns labeling different types of writing or communicating in terms of their purpose. Expressive communication is not rehearsed, is responsive to what others might say or do, and the purpose is to communicate in writing or speech in the present. Poetic writing seems to have the purpose of storytelling. It is one-way communication, and while it may (and should) evoke thought, it is meant for the purpose of sharing the writer’s point of view. Transactional writing seems to serve the purpose of a well-organized, two-way dialogue. The writer is meant to communicate thoughts or ideas to an audience that serve the purpose of evoking thought. The reader is supposed to react to the piece.
In class, we completed an activity that required us to conceptualize Britton’s and Moffett’s ideas visually. I chose to represent them on a continuum, and while Moffett’s ideas seem to lend themselves readily to a continuum, I had to force expressive, poetic and transactional communication to fit. In retrospect, a Venn diagram much more responsively represents these ideas. This is primarily due to the influence expressiveness (in other words emotion, expression, spontaneity) has on the other forms of communication Britton discusses.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
One Teacher’s Reaction to I, You and It by James Moffett
I, You and It by James Moffett
(originally printed in College Composition and Communication, Volume 16, No. 5 (December, 1965), 243-48.)
First, when Moffett says that a student “…get some kind of feedback other than red marks,” I couldn’t agree more. In my experience, students who have the opportunity to learn in an environment in which risk-taking is encouraged (and not punished by grades) are able to raise the level of their writing to much higher standards. Mind you, risk-taking is an exceptionally important aspect to learning. But so many times students conform to the format and never really branch out because risks are so often rewarded with low or even failing grades. My views regarding this issue have been shaped by years of reflection as well as by Alfie Kohn’s Punished by Rewards and Ken O’Conner’s How to Grade for Learning: Linking Grades to Standards. Kohn’s general premise—that rewards can in many ways act as a punisher—give cause to reflect about practices such as putting stars on papers (why did you get a star on your paper when mine was just as good?) or using mass punishment (since Johnny can’t get started, we’re all staying in until he gets something down on paper). From O’Conner’s work, educators are encouraged to think about grading practices that are, in actual fact, illogical. Take the giving of a “zero” on a piece for whatever reason—turned in late, didn’t follow directions exactly, etc. Typical grading systems are based on a scale, such as 60-69=D, 70-79=C, and so on. Using this system, an “F” should be scaled from 50-59. If a student truly did not attempt to write or did not turn something in, they should receive a 50. By awarding a 50, an educator recognizes that the student did at least do something (even if it was just thinking), and the grade will not permanently damage the entire grading period. In other words, the student can still pass, and the grade has greater potential to reflect learning, not just whether or not the student finished. Feedback for students’ writing, then, should come in multiple forms, including conferencing with peers and teacher or adults, written feedback and opportunities to share drafts in any stage. Students then feel free to take risks, dig deeper in their thinking and soar in their writing.
Moffett goes on to say something with which I disagree completely. He states, that he is “leery of asking the student to read about writing.” Moffett explains that “trial and error best develop judgment and taste, and that explanations of good style, technique and rhetoric create more problems than they solve.” I believe it is essential for students to read, discuss and thoroughly study well-written pieces. Similarly, reading about the thought processes good writers use to produce their work certainly has benefited all levels of writers. Just as a quick example, I am reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. I am learning about writing in two ways: first, studying word choice, flow, and structure from a superb writer will give me pause about my own word choice; second, I will benefit from her own reflections about writing in terms of the process she uses when she writes.