Using 21st century technology to discuss 20th century technology

Isn't there a single word that expresses the use of a thing while discussing it? If anyone knows, please share. Of course, this may all be in my imagination and the word doesn't really exist. If not, we should make one up and submit it to Oxford and Webster's. Anyway, I have to be honest here--I really ended up chuckling a bit to myself when reading Moran's "Technology and the Teaching of Writing" and a smaller bit with Anson's "Distant Voices: Teaching and Writing in a Culture of Technology." Not that there wasn't something to learn here. By all means, there was a great deal to ponder, the foremost (in my mind) being the gap and marginalization as well as the mindless automation that technology can promote. No, I was just amused by the fact that almost by the time a book comes out in print, any essay contained therein dealing with technology is bound to be outdated. Poor Charles even knew what he was getting himself into by apologizing upfront about his taxonomy--he made no assumptions here that his essay would be timeless, and it wasn't. Which brings me to my point--although Chuck effectively points out the role technology plays in the higher visibility of our society's wealth gap, so much of the content is ridiculously outdated through no fault of his. He could not have foreseen the cell phone craze and the infiltration of social networking sites. As crazy as this sounds, many high school students (at least the ones I come into contact with daily) do not use a personal email account anymore--they have no need with the advent of Facebook and text messaging. And, even if most still use email accounts, the English only thing is passe. As far as online research, I am apt to think this is the norm in most colleges and universities with the easy access to a host of databases. Many high school libraries now have their own webpages with links to various databases that students can access on and off campus. Doesn't this encourage online research? Again, even this little snippet on page 220 puts this essay into the archives.

Now I know Chuckie means well, but I must disagree with him when he says he distrusts Susan Stan and Terence G. Collins when they posit "that if basic writing programs could only get access to enough technology, their students' transitions into the academic world would be easier and faster" (217). I truly believe that computers do promote a faster and easier transition, especially for reluctant student writers. I say this because this was me--I was that reluctant student writer with little confidence. When I first returned to those hallowed halls at HACC after a 13-year hiatus, technology was my friend and savior. Perhaps some would say technology did me a disservice--I can compose in a number of places, but I must be in front of a computer when I write.

So back to his concern with access--this remains a concern I think for most educators, at least those of us at the secondary level. We may want to incorporate technology into our curriculum and may even be encouraged to do so, but even within a more privileged school district there are students who do not have access at home. Some might say this is not an issue--that student can use the resources at school. True, but what if this student does not have study hall at all or at least not every day and must leave for work when school lets out? Can a teacher then expect the same from all students when there is this huge gap? Although I am fortunate to be employed by a district heavily committed to using technology, I know there are schools that don't even have adequate ventilation and lavatories, let alone access to technology. What happens to those students who do manage to graduate? Will they need technology "remediation" so that they can function as expected at institutes of higher learning? I do agree that although writers have been advantaged by technology, access has disadvantaged.

Chris flippantly provides a futuristic scenario that's not so futuristic. Jennifer would be all over YouTube for those rock vids! Again, the outdatedness of this article tended to overshadow the true message. I, too, am concerned about where the quality of education is heading, but mostly in what I see as the automation of teaching, not the access to technology. I can see where financial concerns drive education, and unfortunately that means students may become mere products on an assembly line, with no engagement with those who are responsible for positioning the parts or adding the upgrades. Yes, I have taken those online courses because they were more flexible to fit my schedule, literature included, but I would not recommend them. Nothing can take the place of a flesh and blood teacher or professor with whom a student can converse and build a relationship. With a math course, I don't see this as being so crucial, but the humanities do not lend themselves well to this type of teaching and learning. Community is important, and learning without community is a form of automation. We need to discuss and share ideas and perspectives. We are not merely empty vessels ready for filling in the assembly line. The question is: Are we interested in producing robots or students who can be integral to the proper functioning of a democratic society?

P.S. Maybe I'm a little senstive here, but did anyone sense the snobbery by his inclusion of these journal entries? Couldn't this message have been conveyed using a more down to earth scenario rather than Switzerland?

Who ever decided that language could be scientifically measured?

Bertoff takes off her gloves when she asks, "Is Teaching Still Possible?" No, Ann, you were not cheerful, even when you said you would be. Provocative? Definitely. Engaging? Absolutely. Cheerful? Not only was Ann not full of cheer, I was not full of cheer when I finished her essay. It's sad, but true: Not only have English and composition teachers given in to the pleas of psycholinguists, but some have been brainwashed into thinking writing instruction is all about grammar and the holy five-paragraph essay. Just yesterday I heard teachers lamenting the fact that students do not retain all the grammar they have been taught over the years. "But I have to reteach grammar--some students do not know the difference between an adverb and an adjective" was the response to a district directive to use time wisely and not teach what the students already know so that there is more time for common assessment, the latest buzz words in my realm of education. The latest professional development days have been dedicated as to the why and the how of common assessment. I can appreciate the why, but the how is another sad story. Common assessment seems all fine and dandy when it comes to math or science since they are both so linear in teaching and assessing. But English and writing instruction can never be so neat and tidy. Math and science teachers can opt to use multiple-choice tests to test their students' knowledge (I'm not saying they work well), but what knowledge of English and writing does that sort of assessment actually test? Why must we try to scientifically measure something so intimate, so crucial to our development as humans? Or to measure something that "is an instrument for controlling our becoming"? English teachers are now being forced to develop a common assessment for fairly diverse instruction--the solution, it seems, is the five-paragraph essay. Will these breed Engfish? Without a doubt. Will they contain "roadsigns pointing in the wrong direction"? You can bet on it. Perhaps we can whisk students away the minute they are born and begin instructing them in grammar and drown them in exhortations of the elements of good writing while keeping them away from any undesirable influences so that when they actually begin writing, it will be perfect in every way.

Haefner's essay, "Democracy, Pedagogy, and the Personal Essay" caught my attention this week as I was trying to decide what to read. Because we (those of us at the 11th and 12th grade level) teach the college essay to the college bound (I break the rules, though; I teach it to my level 3 students. Shhh, don't tell anyone.) and so often the application request is to submit a personal essay, I thought this particular reading may apply. Of course, Haefner does not discuss the personal essay in this context, but it has made me question the validity of the personal essay as a means to measure a student's worthiness for an institution of higher learning. If essays cannot be without ideology, can they be responsible in some cases for an applicant's rejection? Could some applicants be at a disadvantage? Is it a matter of investigating the admissions officers to discover their leanings? Okay, back to Haefner's real intention in this text--his discussion on the democracy of personal essays made some sense, but his arguments for collaboration verged on ludicrous in my humble opinion. Come on, a collaborative "personal" essay? They are no longer personal if they are collaborative. Moot point, Joel.

I loved Ann George's unstuffy and unhaughty writing style as it served more as a personal journey and inquiry for her than a "this is how you should do it" piece. I, too, appreciate Freire's intentions, but I have often wondered myself how some of his pedagogical ideas would apply not only to white, middle-class students, but to students in the United States in general. Freire was on a clear mission under the pressure of Brazilian oppression, but can we draw a parallel in any way? George asks some great questions here. I, too, strive for some sort of critical pedagogy in my teaching, but, of course, as a high school teacher, I must maintain structure and follow my district's curriculum--you could say many of us teach within a paradox. However, George on page 108 captures my pedagogical intention when she discusses the values that Hairston claims we all share: respect for difference, fairness, a forum for the free exchange of ideas. Interestingly, in a recent assignment asking for a vivid description of the classroom, a few students fondly mention my role in instilling these particular values. Now that's something that brings me cheer.

Today's Featured Authors: Rose, Trimbur, and George and Trimbur

Sometimes I wonder just how researchers come up with methods to test their subjects for certain aptitudes, intelligences, qualities, traits, field dependence/independence--you name it. Since I am not an expert in cognition, I cannot speak in great specifics here, but Witkin and company's logic just wasn't there for me. Did anyone see the absurdity here before Mike Rose? Rods and degrees? Embedded figures? I can see how these might provide some insight into a person's tendencies and personality, but to equate them somehow to intelligence is a real stretch. And, then to further make assumptions about literacy using Piaget verged on ridiculous.

Rose's problems with Witkin's construct do seem rather obvious. I agree with Rose that test results often provide a means for educators (and theorists) to label and assume rather than attempting to teach writing in a new or different way. Why is it that many educators and theorists alike cannot accept the fact that a one-size-fits all approach has no basis in reality? Just how can a pedagogy rely on cognitive reductionism? It seems obvious to me that, although humans show similarities and patterns in cognition, our brains just do not function exactly the same way. Students are not one-dimensional, and nor should this be our approach to teaching writing. Ask two people to perform a simple task such as making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and, though the end result will look and taste similar if the same ingredients are used, the means to the end will have differed. Something as simple as making a PBJ reveals differences from something as minute as how one holds the knife to something as crucial as the amount of peanut butter and jelly used. And, as Rose points out, if these people are told they are being judged on their process and the end product, as with the tests of Witkins, et al, it will change the results. However, when Mike Rose appears to see no difference in the cognition between literate and illiterate people, I just cannot wholeheartedly agree. True, some poor writers resist “developing that facility out of anger or fear or as an act of identity”—boy have I seen that at work this week—but if the facility has not been nurtured and encouraged all along, I think a handicap develops. I equate this to learning a foreign language. Studies and experience have shown that the younger the better at learning a foreign language—one will actually develop the ability to create the sounds consistent with that language; younger students are able to become more fluent and sound more like a native speaker, which I parallel to readability and voice in writing. If someone has not been exposed to the written word at an early stage in their brain development, then it would seem that those cerebral connections may not work as well.

Trimbur had me a little confused at first, but I think I have him pegged—he seems to be in the collaborative learning corner, but only if students/and teachers use it properly. I do see where his perspectives and discussion of the two lines of criticism of collaborative learning have merit, from stifling individual voice and enforcing conformity to analyzing its contribution to learning, with too much emphasis placed on the accepted “canon” and what students are supposed to take away from the collaboration. True, there are times that teachers use collaborative learning as part of their required “LFS” curriculum with no thought as to knowledge which would result from it. Or, they use it as a means to “occupy” their students for lack of something equally as beneficial. On the other hand, I would just hope that a teacher who reads this will not err on the side of caution and decide not to incorporate collaborative learning. As a continuing student myself, I see the pedagogical value in collaborative learning. And, as long as there is a common goal rather than an undemocratic drive for a common consensus, there is no reason to believe that individual voice would be lost. I have seen firsthand as a teacher the value in collaborative learning—right now my students are working on reflective essays (sort of a memoir) and I provide time for them to bounce ideas off of each other. I have asked for some feedback from them—they appreciate and are excited about the collaborative effort in creating their essays. I do, of course, agree with Trimbur when he suggests that using collaborative learning to discuss literature and come to a conclusion does put a limit on individual interpretation. But, being able to discuss literature in a group setting allows for an exchange of ideas which promotes learning and understanding as long as having the “right” answer is not the goal.
To go back to Rose through George and Timbur, incorporating cultural studies into composition pedagogy seems to be a solution or one of the solutions to the problems Rose addresses in “Narrowing the Mind and Page: Remedial Writers and Cognitive Reductionism.” Those opposed to cultural studies are likely the ones who continue to teach as they had been taught, using the canon as the word of God and insisting students use a specific process when they compose. As George and Trimbur (or at least I think it was them—my head is beginning to spin) discuss, students often read reluctantly for school and read something “fun” for themselves. Students need and want to be able to connect with what they are reading and writing, and what better way to do this than through cultural studies. Obviously, teachers need to tread carefully here unless they teach at Milton Hershey or some similar type of academic world where the needs of the students far outweigh the needs and desires of the powers that be.