I was thinking of doing a "Trendwatch" but too many of today's trending topics were depressing: Brooke Mueller (whoever she is) hospitalized; a 7-year-old girl by the not-ironic-at-all-name of Heaven shot and killed in Chicago. Even the superficially good news of a family receiving $109 million is tarnished by the fact that the money comes as restitution for the family's mother being electrocuted. We can only cross our fingers and hope that she was not a very nice person.
It's too difficult to make jokes about these things. Or rather, it's too hard to make jokes about these things and not be barraged with hate mail.
Still, I was struck by the number-one trending story, given all the news and pseudo-news filling the airwaves: a tidbit about Russian Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev joking about extraterrestrials living in Russia. He even referenced the "Men in Black" films. Is this story so popular because people think Medvedev was joking about joking? Or are people just surprised that a Russian is attempting humor? Given that the former Soviet Union has never fully recovered from Yakov Smirnoff, I must confess being a bit surprised myself.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Circular Reasoning the Drain
Spent hours today reading student essays. After awhile, one's head begins to spin, one's resistance weakens, and one starts seriously to ponder whether, "One of the challenges faced by people living in poverty is that they don't have any money," is tautology or brilliance.
Must sleep now.
Must sleep now.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Accelerate This!
My college offers several composition classes, but just three of them comprise the bulk of writing instruction offered at the institution: ENGL139, ENGL142B, and ENGL1A. The first two are "basic skills"--or what is often called "remedial" or "developmental" in nature; the third is what is traditionally known as "freshman comp." Statistics show that students who enter the college at the ENGL139 level (or lower) rarely progress through ENGL1A (much less graduate or transfer).
Reasons vary. Obviously, students who matriculate in need of basic skills remediation face extra academic hurdles. But beyond that, these students are also frequently juggling any number of responsibilities: school, work, family. Even when successful in 139, they must seriously consider whether they can afford--in senses monetary as well as personal--to continue to 142B. This same calculation must then be made before registering for 1A. With so many potential "dropping out" points, a college education presents students with a seemingly endless minefield. As disappointing as the percentage of completers is (something less than 30%), it's knd of amazing that as many students make it through as actually do.
As a result of the numbers and the challenges, many educators have begun to worship at the church of "acceleration." As the word implies, the concept calls for students to be pushed through the system faster. In math, for example, basic-skills level students--who in the past may have needed to take as many as four different classes BEFORE reaching a transferable-level math class--are now sometimes given the opportunity to enroll in a special program that will in one year--or maybe even one semester-- prepare them to take college-level statistics. At my school, we English teachers are considering ways to move students more quickly through the composition sequence.
As we've been thinking about how to do this, though, I've wondered what, exactly, the difference is between all the different writing levels we currently offer. Certainly, requirements are different. In the 139 classes (the ones I usually teach), students are expected to master the "standard" five-paragraph essay.
In 142B, students are exposed to different rhetorical modes and, by the end, expected to write somewhat longer (4-5 pages) essays in which they present an argument, incorporating opposing viewpoints and, perhaps, light research. In 1A, students must produce a research essay, as well as demonstrate the ability to produce sustained arguments incorporating a variety of rhetorical modes. Mastery of the conventions of Standard Written English is also expected.
OK. But what, exactly, is the difference? In math, one cannot do algebra unless one has mastered the multiplication tables. But what's to stop an ENGL139 instructor from "imposing" a 142B--or even 1A--curriculum on his class? Well, aside from the tyranny of the course outline, that is. In other words, is there any fundamental reason that, instead of being taught the "standard" five paragraph essay, a basic-skills student couldn't be taught to write a piece of argumentation? Or even a research paper? I can't really think of one. I suppose we'll find out in the coming months.
Reasons vary. Obviously, students who matriculate in need of basic skills remediation face extra academic hurdles. But beyond that, these students are also frequently juggling any number of responsibilities: school, work, family. Even when successful in 139, they must seriously consider whether they can afford--in senses monetary as well as personal--to continue to 142B. This same calculation must then be made before registering for 1A. With so many potential "dropping out" points, a college education presents students with a seemingly endless minefield. As disappointing as the percentage of completers is (something less than 30%), it's knd of amazing that as many students make it through as actually do.
As a result of the numbers and the challenges, many educators have begun to worship at the church of "acceleration." As the word implies, the concept calls for students to be pushed through the system faster. In math, for example, basic-skills level students--who in the past may have needed to take as many as four different classes BEFORE reaching a transferable-level math class--are now sometimes given the opportunity to enroll in a special program that will in one year--or maybe even one semester-- prepare them to take college-level statistics. At my school, we English teachers are considering ways to move students more quickly through the composition sequence.
As we've been thinking about how to do this, though, I've wondered what, exactly, the difference is between all the different writing levels we currently offer. Certainly, requirements are different. In the 139 classes (the ones I usually teach), students are expected to master the "standard" five-paragraph essay.
In 142B, students are exposed to different rhetorical modes and, by the end, expected to write somewhat longer (4-5 pages) essays in which they present an argument, incorporating opposing viewpoints and, perhaps, light research. In 1A, students must produce a research essay, as well as demonstrate the ability to produce sustained arguments incorporating a variety of rhetorical modes. Mastery of the conventions of Standard Written English is also expected.
OK. But what, exactly, is the difference? In math, one cannot do algebra unless one has mastered the multiplication tables. But what's to stop an ENGL139 instructor from "imposing" a 142B--or even 1A--curriculum on his class? Well, aside from the tyranny of the course outline, that is. In other words, is there any fundamental reason that, instead of being taught the "standard" five paragraph essay, a basic-skills student couldn't be taught to write a piece of argumentation? Or even a research paper? I can't really think of one. I suppose we'll find out in the coming months.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Just Another Day at Solipsist Central
WOS (Apropos of. . . Well, probably whatever I was doing at the moment): You're an idiot.
SOL: I'm NOT an idiot! I'm brilliant!
WOS: No. You're not brilliant. You're the opposite.
SOL: I'm NOT the opposite! I'm. . . I'm. . . . Hey, what's the opposite of opposite?
WOS: You got yourself into this one. You can get yourself out.
SOL: I'm NOT an idiot! I'm brilliant!
WOS: No. You're not brilliant. You're the opposite.
SOL: I'm NOT the opposite! I'm. . . I'm. . . . Hey, what's the opposite of opposite?
WOS: You got yourself into this one. You can get yourself out.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
It's a Barbie World (A Brief Post)
Cheers! to Mattel for shattering gender stereotypes with its introduction of a construction-themed "Barbie" set.
Jeers! for their inclusion of a wolf-whistling Ken doll in a hardhat exposing himself (such as he can) to Barbie.
I don't know what they were thinking!
Jeers! for their inclusion of a wolf-whistling Ken doll in a hardhat exposing himself (such as he can) to Barbie.
I don't know what they were thinking!
Monday, December 3, 2012
Advice for New Teachers: Be Careful What You Ask For; You Might Just Have to Read It
How does one learn to write? Not by taking writing classes, that's for damn sure.
No, people learn to write primarily by reading. When I took my first college writing class, I was amazed when people thought I wrote well. I had no idea why. I was only doing what felt right. And I knew what felt right because of extensive exposure to the written word: I've always enjoyed reading and was raised in a household that encouraged this enthusiasm. The same cannot be said of many of my students. I realized a few years back that any attempt to improve students' writing skills would flounder unless, at the same time, these students were being exposed to well-written, edited prose. How could they produce good writing if they didn't know what good writing looked and sounded like?
I devised a simple assignment: In all my writing classes, regardless of level, students must every day select a piece of published writing. The source doesn't matter: newspapers, magazines, novels, textbooks--any prose is acceptable. From this piece, they must select a paragraph or so--about 150 words--and hand copy it. That's all. Just copy it out, on lined paper, exactly. Simple enough, right?
By doing this, students read a little bit every day. More importantly, though, this slow, deliberate hand-copying forces students to pay attention to what a writer does; to the way a sentence flows; to the choices made in the construction of any piece of writing. I encourage students to write comments on these entries, particularly when they notice something "strange": "You can start a sentence with 'And'?" "Why isn't this word capitalized?" What does this '--' mean?"
Of course, there are some conditions, the most important being that students must copy the writing EXACTLY: For each entry, I "allow" three mistakes--misspellings, dropped words, punctuation errors, whatever. If an entry has more than three mistakes, a student receives no credit for it. How will I know if there are mistakes? Well, I explain, if an entry from a professionally edited, published piece of writing has, say, five spelling errors, I'm going to assume the mistakes belong to the student. If the student shows me the original piece, and if, in fact, the errors appear in the original, I will gladly give the student credit--and then tell him/her never to use that source again.
The one drawback to this assignment, though, is that I must actually READ the various entries. Oftentimes, students will simply copy out pieces from the newspaper, which is fine, and occasionally I'll get Dickens or Austen--or if I'm really lucky Vonnegut or Stephen King. But I also get more of the "Twilight" Saga than I had ever hoped to read. I get automotive repair manuals. One semester, I had a student copy out long sections of a treatise on maritime insurance. I've had one student who spent the entire semester copying out the autobiography of Donna Summer, and another who has copied out selection after selection from Seventeen magazine.
It's OK though. The students still get exposure to professional writing. And I learn how to put together an outfit that's both appropriate for school AND fun and flirty.
No, people learn to write primarily by reading. When I took my first college writing class, I was amazed when people thought I wrote well. I had no idea why. I was only doing what felt right. And I knew what felt right because of extensive exposure to the written word: I've always enjoyed reading and was raised in a household that encouraged this enthusiasm. The same cannot be said of many of my students. I realized a few years back that any attempt to improve students' writing skills would flounder unless, at the same time, these students were being exposed to well-written, edited prose. How could they produce good writing if they didn't know what good writing looked and sounded like?
I devised a simple assignment: In all my writing classes, regardless of level, students must every day select a piece of published writing. The source doesn't matter: newspapers, magazines, novels, textbooks--any prose is acceptable. From this piece, they must select a paragraph or so--about 150 words--and hand copy it. That's all. Just copy it out, on lined paper, exactly. Simple enough, right?
By doing this, students read a little bit every day. More importantly, though, this slow, deliberate hand-copying forces students to pay attention to what a writer does; to the way a sentence flows; to the choices made in the construction of any piece of writing. I encourage students to write comments on these entries, particularly when they notice something "strange": "You can start a sentence with 'And'?" "Why isn't this word capitalized?" What does this '--' mean?"
Of course, there are some conditions, the most important being that students must copy the writing EXACTLY: For each entry, I "allow" three mistakes--misspellings, dropped words, punctuation errors, whatever. If an entry has more than three mistakes, a student receives no credit for it. How will I know if there are mistakes? Well, I explain, if an entry from a professionally edited, published piece of writing has, say, five spelling errors, I'm going to assume the mistakes belong to the student. If the student shows me the original piece, and if, in fact, the errors appear in the original, I will gladly give the student credit--and then tell him/her never to use that source again.
The one drawback to this assignment, though, is that I must actually READ the various entries. Oftentimes, students will simply copy out pieces from the newspaper, which is fine, and occasionally I'll get Dickens or Austen--or if I'm really lucky Vonnegut or Stephen King. But I also get more of the "Twilight" Saga than I had ever hoped to read. I get automotive repair manuals. One semester, I had a student copy out long sections of a treatise on maritime insurance. I've had one student who spent the entire semester copying out the autobiography of Donna Summer, and another who has copied out selection after selection from Seventeen magazine.
It's OK though. The students still get exposure to professional writing. And I learn how to put together an outfit that's both appropriate for school AND fun and flirty.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Mens Perversa in Corpore Sano
Sunday mornings are for The New York Times, but it's a bit jarring when the first stories one reads feature a steady stream of murder, rape, drug abuse, and robbery sprees. Even more jarring is the fact that I always begin with the sports section.
I am constantly justifying my enthusiasm for sports, unshared by many in my extended circle of friends and family, many of whom are musical-theatre snobs or pseudo-intellectuals or both. They look down on sports as the preserve of insufficiently evolved alpha males (and a few alpha females), undeserving of the attention (and certainly the money) lavished upon it. I counter with an argument that sports (and maybe politics) provide the only dependable sources of actual narrative excitement. Each game provides a classic plot: beginning, middle, and end. And whereas movies and television shows, no matter how well done, are fundamentally predictable--except "Breaking Bad," but I digress--sports constantly surprise. No matter how heavily favored one team is, the games still must be played, and the underdogs occasionally triumph.
So it's depressing when the front page of the Sunday sports pages are dominated by stories of a Kansas City Chiefs linebacker killing himself after shooting his girlfriend to death; of the prevalence of Adderall as a new performance-enhancer of choice among NFL players; of a quartet of Rugers University basketball players busted for a series of dormitory robberies. In what passes for an "uplifting" story, Kathy Redmond, has devoted her life to combating the culture of sexual abuse that exists among collegiate athletes--a commitment she developed in response to her own rape at the hands of a Nebraska football player in the early 90's.
I'm not likely to abandon an enthusiasm for sports any time soon. But the constant drumbeat of crime and depravity is disheartening. True, I'm not a child, and I have no need of athletic heroes to look up to, but wouldn't it be nice to know that at least a FEW of these guys were worthy of such admiration? That some are blessed with gifts of character to match their obvious physical gifts?
I'm sure some are. It's sad, though, when reading about, say, Robert Griffin III--by all accounts a delightful human being as well as a spectacular athlete--to find oneself wondering how long it'll be before we discover he's running a child-prostitution ring in Malaysia. Many times bitten, many times shy.
I am constantly justifying my enthusiasm for sports, unshared by many in my extended circle of friends and family, many of whom are musical-theatre snobs or pseudo-intellectuals or both. They look down on sports as the preserve of insufficiently evolved alpha males (and a few alpha females), undeserving of the attention (and certainly the money) lavished upon it. I counter with an argument that sports (and maybe politics) provide the only dependable sources of actual narrative excitement. Each game provides a classic plot: beginning, middle, and end. And whereas movies and television shows, no matter how well done, are fundamentally predictable--except "Breaking Bad," but I digress--sports constantly surprise. No matter how heavily favored one team is, the games still must be played, and the underdogs occasionally triumph.
So it's depressing when the front page of the Sunday sports pages are dominated by stories of a Kansas City Chiefs linebacker killing himself after shooting his girlfriend to death; of the prevalence of Adderall as a new performance-enhancer of choice among NFL players; of a quartet of Rugers University basketball players busted for a series of dormitory robberies. In what passes for an "uplifting" story, Kathy Redmond, has devoted her life to combating the culture of sexual abuse that exists among collegiate athletes--a commitment she developed in response to her own rape at the hands of a Nebraska football player in the early 90's.
I'm not likely to abandon an enthusiasm for sports any time soon. But the constant drumbeat of crime and depravity is disheartening. True, I'm not a child, and I have no need of athletic heroes to look up to, but wouldn't it be nice to know that at least a FEW of these guys were worthy of such admiration? That some are blessed with gifts of character to match their obvious physical gifts?
I'm sure some are. It's sad, though, when reading about, say, Robert Griffin III--by all accounts a delightful human being as well as a spectacular athlete--to find oneself wondering how long it'll be before we discover he's running a child-prostitution ring in Malaysia. Many times bitten, many times shy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)