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.