But apparently Absurdist Baby doesn't realize that most babies get their teeth around six months. His first tooth came up and is now clear as day (okay, white) -- it came up last Wednesday. And today he is officially four months old.
I'm just trying to make it through -- really I'm just edgy and worried and wishing that I would hear something from Interesting U, though really it will be definitely another week or two and maybe even more before I hear something. And that is if it's good news. Meanwhile I'm trying to do the very reasonable thing of applying to more schools. When I printed out an application for an upcoming community college deadline, I said over the printer: may I not need this application. Sigh.
I'm teaching a pre-transfer course that I taught last semester. Last semester, only a handful passed the class, but with being pregnant and everything, I didn't have time to feel bad about it. Really, most didn't pass the class because they didn't keep up with the work, not because their writing was good or bad. This semester, I began to feel bad about it -- that I can't figure out a way to reach the students, to make the work of academic writing seem worth the investment. But I totally understand not feeling invested in academic conversations. After all, who reads their academic writing to respond other than for evaluation? They are taught so often that academic writing is a matter of structure, rather than conversation. Who cares about mastering a set of discourse conventions if you can't see why you'd want to participate in the conversation? I worried and gnawed at this bone for a while the weekend before last. Then last week we had our first journal assignment due. I went around the room -- and about a dozen people hadn't done it. Sigh. And I had this epiphany: the reason why some of these students are in this pre-transfer class is because they don't do their schoolwork, not because no one has ever tried to reach them. My job is not to feel bad about the ones who don't do their work (but still show up -- don't they realize they're not in high school anymore???), but to spend my time on the ones who really want to figure out what they're not getting and move on. Still, I wish I could make them feel more invested in the work of the class and of the university in general -- but to be honest, I'm not very convinced either that drilling a certain kind of academic essay (which is what this writing sequence seems to do) is really that useful for all students (okay, the ones who are going to transfer, maybe, but what about the ones who are not? shouldn't we be teaching students how to enter a number of discourses and helping students develop strategies for figuring out how to enter discourses?). I'm sure my own lack of excitement for what I'm teaching comes across too. Isn't it interesting that the community college doesn't seem to care what we are committed to?
So here's a question. I'm teaching an intro to literature class organized by genre. I figure we'll do a writing assignment for each genre. But I want to mix it up: I just don't want students to write four different literary essays. It just seems so boring to me -- and aren't there other genres that discuss literature in interesting ways? I've been trying to think of different situations where readers would be asked to make an argument about a text beyond the "this is school, so write me an essay" kind of thing. I could break up the three essays into the traditional explication, analysis/argument, and evaluation essays, but I want to have different situations or even genres so there are real audiences to write to. Does anyone have any ideas? What are your favorite writing projects about literature? I'm out of my element (which is weird, because I used to do literature; on the other hand, I always wrote into conversations that I felt a part of, which I don't think would be the case for these students -- I guess I just want there to be some connection between a Facebook meme that asks people to name and explain a book that changed their lives and a close reading of a text that they have to do for class: help please!).
Money is tight. Jobs are scarce. Absurdist Baby is the cutest happiest thing I've ever seen, even teething (which has made his sleeping habits odd, but he doesn't actually scream a lot or anything). I feel more and more like Urban Home City is dying, and we need to get out because people here are just mean the way too many rats in a cage just start biting themselves and others for no reason. In short, same old same old.
Cross your fingers Interesting U wants to hire me. I'm in the bargaining stage so maybe I've already lost the job: I promise to blog more when I get an offer. Right now, even Absurdist Lover says I'm scaring him (mostly with bad puns). Happy equinox to all and to all a good night!
Showing posts with label first-year writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label first-year writing. Show all posts
Monday, February 23, 2009
Saturday, September 13, 2008
First-Year College Students
Inspired by Kate's recent post on gender and students, I found I basically usurped her comments. But I keep thinking that there are all these issues about teaching, scholarship, and service that I want to address -- and where better than my blog?! (Certainly better than going nuts on someone's comments!) So here goes.
Fundamentally, I can't forget that traditional-age first-year students are straight from high school -- some of those high schools were public, some private. Some students had great preparations, some not so much. But one issue that I've had to address with my community college students this week is that I'm not a high school teacher: I will not chase them around for their assignments if they don't turn them in. It's just as easy to fill in zero on my spreadsheet as anything else. If they need help beyond what I can give, there are plenty of resources on campuses designed with their needs in mind, and it's not my job to go ahead and fill in every blank they have. I've had to give several students in one class and more than half in the other my come-to-Jesus speech (I know this is offensive, but I can't think of a better way to say it right now) about getting their assignments done: if they're not able to keep up now, they should just drop. Period. Some students are really not ready to be in college or are in college for reasons other than learning (though I didn't say that). I don't care about turning all my students into great students. They have to come halfway to meet the challenge, which often includes actually having to approach me and ask me for specific help if they need it; if they flake out on that, well, that's too bad for them. (There are shy students in the world, and I try to be as approachable as possible, but there's a limit.)
So why am I so harsh? Well, actually it's because I realize that my students at least are used to looking at their teacher as a surrogate parent, someone they are going to test the boundaries with. Because I really believe that part of my job is to help them make the transition to more self-determined, agency-filled young adults, I believe I do them a disservice if I hold their hands too much and if I give in too much. If they need additional resources to help them with my class, I'm happy to point them in the right direction. I do think long and hard about whether my class is fulfilling what they need, but I also realize that different students need different things -- and I don't worry too much that I'm in the wrong, at least not in front of them. I will spend long hours in office hours at times with certain students. But I don't waste my time over the ones who are just whingers or complainers. The complainers and ones who aren't turning in their assignments need tough love. Period. The whingers probably need to panic anyway. I'm happy to answer their questions and talk with them and everything. But I don't assume that all the panic is about me -- they are making a huge transition in their lives and the first semester is all panic anyway. And if you think about it, they should be panicking. After a lifetime, for many of them, of people holding their hand and coaching them through and helping them figure things out, now they are mostly on their own. Who wouldn't panic?
So this is my sermon on why I feel tough love is often the appropriate response to students. I'll put away the soapbox now. Have a great Saturday!
Fundamentally, I can't forget that traditional-age first-year students are straight from high school -- some of those high schools were public, some private. Some students had great preparations, some not so much. But one issue that I've had to address with my community college students this week is that I'm not a high school teacher: I will not chase them around for their assignments if they don't turn them in. It's just as easy to fill in zero on my spreadsheet as anything else. If they need help beyond what I can give, there are plenty of resources on campuses designed with their needs in mind, and it's not my job to go ahead and fill in every blank they have. I've had to give several students in one class and more than half in the other my come-to-Jesus speech (I know this is offensive, but I can't think of a better way to say it right now) about getting their assignments done: if they're not able to keep up now, they should just drop. Period. Some students are really not ready to be in college or are in college for reasons other than learning (though I didn't say that). I don't care about turning all my students into great students. They have to come halfway to meet the challenge, which often includes actually having to approach me and ask me for specific help if they need it; if they flake out on that, well, that's too bad for them. (There are shy students in the world, and I try to be as approachable as possible, but there's a limit.)
So why am I so harsh? Well, actually it's because I realize that my students at least are used to looking at their teacher as a surrogate parent, someone they are going to test the boundaries with. Because I really believe that part of my job is to help them make the transition to more self-determined, agency-filled young adults, I believe I do them a disservice if I hold their hands too much and if I give in too much. If they need additional resources to help them with my class, I'm happy to point them in the right direction. I do think long and hard about whether my class is fulfilling what they need, but I also realize that different students need different things -- and I don't worry too much that I'm in the wrong, at least not in front of them. I will spend long hours in office hours at times with certain students. But I don't waste my time over the ones who are just whingers or complainers. The complainers and ones who aren't turning in their assignments need tough love. Period. The whingers probably need to panic anyway. I'm happy to answer their questions and talk with them and everything. But I don't assume that all the panic is about me -- they are making a huge transition in their lives and the first semester is all panic anyway. And if you think about it, they should be panicking. After a lifetime, for many of them, of people holding their hand and coaching them through and helping them figure things out, now they are mostly on their own. Who wouldn't panic?
So this is my sermon on why I feel tough love is often the appropriate response to students. I'll put away the soapbox now. Have a great Saturday!
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Purpose of First-Year Writing: Discuss
So I was over at Dr. Crazy's and in passing she mentioned composition and its purpose of preparing students for college-level writing. I have no beef with her that this is the ostensible purpose of the first-year writing requirement, but it got me thinking about an issue I've always wondered about and want now to put out into the blogoverse for your consideration.
Does the idea of first-year writing preparing students for college-level writing make sense? Many of us in English Studies find ourselves teaching first-year writing; teaching first-year writing is not confined to those who specialize in Rhetoric and Composition, however much maybe it should be or not. (This argument is not my point.) The idea of a first-year writing course that prepares students for college-level writing assumes that college-level writing across disciplines has certain things in common. And I think many of us agree that many of the academic discourses do have important things in common, like critical thinking. (Critical thinking may come out in analysis in the humanities and problem-solving in the sciences, but not taking the surface explanation for granted and learning to dig deeper in discipline-specific ways is, I think, common to most academic disciplines. I think.) But are we in English really preparing students for the range of academic discourses students will need to access across disciplines? Do I really prepare my students to write biology lab reports? Do I even know the entire range of discourses that students will need to access? Am I even qualified to prepare students to enter discourses in which I am not fluent, or even at this point literate, and haven't had to write in for blessed twelve years (the scary number of years since I graduated from college myself)? Am I prepared to teach a class in which I am expected to help students access discourses across the university? How do I do that? (Of course, the way I teach -- and anyone's teaching of first-year writing -- is implicitly an answer to these questions. But how often do we think about how our first-year writing class prepares fledgling engineering, physics, anthropology, and literature majors equally? Can it? Do we just prepare students to write in the liberal arts?)
I realize this is what writing in the disciplines (WID) is all about -- helping students to access specific disciplinary discourses. But that is not first-year writing and does not have that objective of "helping students write for college" objective tied to it. I just want all y'all's take on whether we who teach first-year writing can prepare students for all or most college-level writing and, if so, which features of the various academic discourses we take to be common across disciplines? Of course, this assumes that first-year writing has no other objectives besides making the transition and preparing students for college-level writing. What other objectives do teachers have for first-year writing? And assuming other goals, what about that important issue: do professors and administrators across the university know that we may have other goals besides "preparing students for college-level writing"? I know I have other goals in my first-year writing courses, but when I'm sitting in the faculty lounge, the colleague complaining about how "students can't write" isn't thinking about how I might want my students to think about writing as a way of thinking, seeing how writing is tied to identity issues, or writing for a range of personal, professional, and, oh yeah, academic situations. He's talking about their ability to access his notion of academic discourse. What d'y'all think? Everyone is welcome to weigh in here, not just teachers of first-year writing. I think this is an issue that affects most of us who teach at the college-level.
Does the idea of first-year writing preparing students for college-level writing make sense? Many of us in English Studies find ourselves teaching first-year writing; teaching first-year writing is not confined to those who specialize in Rhetoric and Composition, however much maybe it should be or not. (This argument is not my point.) The idea of a first-year writing course that prepares students for college-level writing assumes that college-level writing across disciplines has certain things in common. And I think many of us agree that many of the academic discourses do have important things in common, like critical thinking. (Critical thinking may come out in analysis in the humanities and problem-solving in the sciences, but not taking the surface explanation for granted and learning to dig deeper in discipline-specific ways is, I think, common to most academic disciplines. I think.) But are we in English really preparing students for the range of academic discourses students will need to access across disciplines? Do I really prepare my students to write biology lab reports? Do I even know the entire range of discourses that students will need to access? Am I even qualified to prepare students to enter discourses in which I am not fluent, or even at this point literate, and haven't had to write in for blessed twelve years (the scary number of years since I graduated from college myself)? Am I prepared to teach a class in which I am expected to help students access discourses across the university? How do I do that? (Of course, the way I teach -- and anyone's teaching of first-year writing -- is implicitly an answer to these questions. But how often do we think about how our first-year writing class prepares fledgling engineering, physics, anthropology, and literature majors equally? Can it? Do we just prepare students to write in the liberal arts?)
I realize this is what writing in the disciplines (WID) is all about -- helping students to access specific disciplinary discourses. But that is not first-year writing and does not have that objective of "helping students write for college" objective tied to it. I just want all y'all's take on whether we who teach first-year writing can prepare students for all or most college-level writing and, if so, which features of the various academic discourses we take to be common across disciplines? Of course, this assumes that first-year writing has no other objectives besides making the transition and preparing students for college-level writing. What other objectives do teachers have for first-year writing? And assuming other goals, what about that important issue: do professors and administrators across the university know that we may have other goals besides "preparing students for college-level writing"? I know I have other goals in my first-year writing courses, but when I'm sitting in the faculty lounge, the colleague complaining about how "students can't write" isn't thinking about how I might want my students to think about writing as a way of thinking, seeing how writing is tied to identity issues, or writing for a range of personal, professional, and, oh yeah, academic situations. He's talking about their ability to access his notion of academic discourse. What d'y'all think? Everyone is welcome to weigh in here, not just teachers of first-year writing. I think this is an issue that affects most of us who teach at the college-level.
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