Saturday, January 8, 2011

Writing as Revision

A student said to me in passing that he had rated me on one of the websites that allow students to do so. I smiled and asked him if I should thank him or cringe. He responded that he believes I'm the best teacher he's had during his college career, but he also acknowledged that students either rate me highly or ... hate me, most often because they feel that I am too hard on them and expect too much. If I believe the good, I also have to believe the bad, and if the bad is out there, it behooves me to know what it is. With the upcoming semester beginning in another week, I decided to read the comments and see how I can refocus my instruction toward the goal of being a better teacher for all the students in the classroom, including those who ... hate me.

The comments are benign, with the exception of one note by a student about how rude I am. The example of my rudeness is tearing up student essays, which I did, indeed, do -- as part of a lesson on revision, the skill I believe is most important in the writing process. Students own their writing regardless of their proficiency, so their perception of revision is to run spell checker and grammar checker; whether any changes are made as a result of those two computer clicks, the final papers are rife with grammar, mechanics, and spelling errors. After I respond in red ink to the many obvious technical errors still present in a final, polished essay, as well as the actual content of the paper, the students are stunned not to see that bright, shiny A+ at the top of the paper.

My focus is on the key idea of the paper, the organization of the presentation of information, then the development of the idea, and, finally, the conclusion. The paper has to say something worthwhile, say it well, and make sense from beginning to end; if it does not accomplish those goals, then rewrite it until it does. When I work with students to revise, which means to change the actual content of the paper, their eyes glaze and they go into a hypnotic state of disbelief. The idea of literally tearing apart a paper and rewriting it to improve the idea, or to reorganize the presentation of the idea, and/or refine the conclusion based on the presentation, is anathema to their belief system.

To make my point, after first offering students the opportunity to make their own changes while working in writer's groups in a workshop format, I tear the paper into the separate paragraphs, spread them on the table separately, and then reorganize them and tape the paper together in the new configuration. I point out to the student writers that ideas often clarify as we write, so where we begin is often not the best part of the essay, but the conclusion often makes an excellent opening paragraph. That one simple organizational change can often refocus the essay so the student then knows how to reorganize and redevelop the rest of the original paragraphs. Sometimes, I can even convince a student to toss out a paragraph or two and replace that content with new content based on the new perspective on their main idea.

However, more often than not, the student assures me that is NOT the way s/he writes an essay, to which I just as often reply, "I know. That's why I'm taking the time to work with you: to improve your ability to write a college-level essay so you can pass this class, as well as all the other college classes that require you to write an essay."

Thus, technically, the student is right: I do tear up student essays and that may seem, to some people, rude. However, it's part of the formal learning process conducted by a college instructor, not the actions of a rude madwoman whose goal is to harass and intimidate hapless victims. Some students get it, while others never will, but my job is to instruct, not to enable, and I'm going to do my job.

What I think is rude is the student whose response to my instruction is to inform me that I have "no right" to change their papers, that I "have to accept" their writing the way it is and not make any changes that violate their freedom of expression. If I point out my professional responsibility is not just to respond to their writing, but to evaluate it and assign it a grade based on the quality indicators published in the course rubric, they head for the main office to protest -- probably using the word rude in their presentation of my many failings, shortcomings, and unreasonable demands for excellence.

This is a syndrome symptomatic of today's young people, who enjoy a sense of personal empowerment with limited basis in fact. There are few young people who have the knowledge, the education, and/or the experience I have, but far too many who feel it is their duty to educate me on what I can and cannot do in the process of formal classroom instruction. Students think it is hilarious when they have to take a class from a dinosaur, but cringe in horror when they realize how well-prepared the dinosaur is to teach the class and how high the expectations are for student performance! Enrollment drops by half within the first couple of weeks as students actively pursue the path of least resistance. Why stay enrolled in a class where the teacher expects your best performance when you can get the same credit and a higher grade from another teacher?

I get it, but I cannot change my belief system to accommodate an educational philosophy I do not believe or support. School has to be challenging, not simply a holding tank for students who need a Pell Grant to pay living expenses while they wait for a high-paying job to drop into their laps. Teachers have to be empowered to draw a strong line between acceptable and unacceptable, and know that line will be enforced by the system. Parents must assume that their young children are going to earn a living at some point in their lives and support the laws that not just require their children to attend school, but to master basic core requirements so if/when the child wants to attend college, s/he has the basic skills to succeed. If all the grown-ups stand together when the children are young, the college student will understand that there are no excused absences in life, no late work accepted, no make-up or extra-credit assignment available, and no good job for a person with bad performance.

We all have to be willing to tear apart the previous draft and reassemble it into another presentation that has a stronger core idea, better organization from beginning to middle to end, and a much stronger presentation based in fact. If a student is not willing to learn how to not just do it, but do it better, perhaps college is not an appropriate placement at this stage of that student's life. Perhaps life still has lessons to teach before that student is ready not just to enroll in a college course, but to ... learn ... regardless of how rude the teacher is perceived to be.

2 comments:

Monique said...

That is what I have always appreciated about you. You know what needs to be done and don't back down just because certain students can't handle the pressure. I was once that student that felt overwhelmed at how much you "expected" of me, but I had to learn that was what was going to make me a better writer. I really truly wish all teachers were like you. Just thought I'd say . . . you are appreciated. :)

John said...

And 5 years after they have you, and mark you as their most hated teacher, they are thanking their lucky stars that they had you... since what you teach them is applicable to real-world applications and situations. A "C" from you is like an "A" in life instruction, as you can apply to every day life and work.


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