the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

aka, “Stuff I Teach My Students.”

background

We submitted our midterm grades this week, and a full 20 of my 64 students had a C- or below; two of my freshmen are, at this point, failing outright. It was a painful realization for me (and, no doubt, now that the grades are in, there is much weeping and gnashing of teeth in the dorms). I pondered the problem quite a bit as I was grading my freshmen's first major papers.

Our approach to the first block of freshman composition is to assign two minor papers (one is a summary and the other is a rhetorical analysis) before the major paper—the English equivalent of a test—which combines both skills. This way, they practice and get feedback and a chance to seek extra instruction (EI) before the major paper. In the interim, I provide “cheat sheets” of various sorts: questions to ask yourself as you study a text to write a summary; questions for writing a rhetorical analysis; sample answers (using an essay my students were to have read) for each; sample fully written summary of another assigned text; and a recommended outline for combining the summary and rhetorical analysis on one essay for the major paper. This is all in addition to the copious explanations and examples provided in our textbook and in classroom discussion, of course.

I've been telling specific struggling students since the beginning of the semester to go to the Writing Center to learn how to use punctuation properly, etc. I tell all of them to see me for EI if they have any questions or need any help; sometimes, I will even order a student to see me for EI.

Yet...I sat down Thursday afternoon and wrote out 20 comment cards, which are required at midterm (“Prog”) for all students who have a C- or below.

There's a temptation to use copy/paste for such a task, but I took the time to review each student's performance and write each card specifically, trying to identify where the problem(s) lie. Incidentally, I give daily quizzes which cover assigned readings and include “what's wrong with this sentence?” questions. Reviewing quiz scores is telling; most of my students rarely do their reading homework.* Sufficeth to say, I'm confident in my grades; I have a heavy paper trail.

* My quizzes are closed-book, but students may use any handwritten notes they have from the assigned readings, so there's really no excuse.

But handing out poor grades is not my preference, nor is it for any teacher (despite what students may think). Thus, I've been trying to work out where the roots of the problem lie. What follows are my thoughts regarding the underlying problems, in no particular order.

***

problem 1: most college students have not mastered basic writing mechanics.

“Writing mechanics” includes grammar/sentence structure, punctuation, and capitalization. This baffled me for a long time, as I take such skills for granted. I had a better grasp of these things by the eighth grade than most of my freshmen have now. I mean, how can you spend 12+ years of your life reading without understanding where to put the commas by osmosis alone? Add to this the fact that they have been taught and tested on the rules (and applications of those rules) in their educations thus far, and...how?!

Three possible reasons occur to me. One, the way they read is fundamentally different from the way I read; they speed-read, perhaps, wherein they simply don't notice punctuation. Two—as my quizzes indicate overwhelmingly—they don't read at all if they can help it, even when required to. Three, they just don't give a damn.

Those are all student-centered reasons, but there is a teacher-centered one as well: Their teachers heretofore have not given enough of a damn to ensure they mastered these skills. I've heard a lot of teachers say, “If they haven't learned how to use commas by now, they aren't going to,” which is bullshit, frankly. When I hear this, I think the teacher is rationalizing not putting forth the effort required to get those students up to speed. Seriously. Calculus teachers don't say, “If my students haven't learned how to work with fractions by now, they aren't going to,” then overlook these basic failings throughout the course.*

* Another way English teachers excuse skill deficits: “I care more about the student's ideas than how they express them,” as if I care less about their ideas. It's possible to care about all of it.

I firmly believe that mastering delivery is crucial to relating ideas. As with speechifying, so with composition.

problem 2: students often write utter blather.

This arises from the fact that they have a paper to write but nothing to say, a common byproduct of apathy. Even if they have a topic, they confuse “writing about” that topic with arguing for a position on an issue. Part of this problem: they assume that “writing about” a topic will give them more to say, so they can meet minimum page requirements, than arguing for a specific position—but it doesn't; this is so counterintuitive that I've found simple examples to be most helpful.

ME: John, what did you do this weekend?

JOHN: Homework.

ME: I heard somebody was arrested in the dorms.

JOHN: Oh yeah! What happened was....

See how moving to specifics instantly kicks your brain into gear and gives you far more to say? Yeah.

problem 3: even when students have a specific argument, they don't know how to reduce their ideas to essentials.

Again, this is often linked to minimum paper length requirements, but I've discovered this semester that it's more than that. I've moved to assigning only a maximum word count, and yet only one or two of my students can write without clunky, repetitive sentences with redundant phrases and vague, broad phrases that add nothing. Their writing is full of worthless and annoying fluff and they don't even know it.

It's also possible that they can't be bothered. :)

I would have written a shorter letter, but I did not have the time.

– Blaise Pascal

problem 4: students do not understand the difference between spoken and written language.

They often write their papers conversationally. The problem they are unaware of is that written communication is fundamentally different from oral communication. When we speak, we have a feedback loop: our friend or audience communicate their understanding or confusion, agreement or disagreement, and emotional reactions through body language, facial expressions, or questions. When we write, we don't have the benefit of that feedback; we must anticipate audience reaction and questions and address them.

When we speak, we use myriad deadwood constructions and verbal pauses while we try to dynamically transform our ideas into words in the moment. When we write, we have time to find the perfect words to express an idea.

Finally, when we speak, we slip naturally into repetition of a given idea if we feel that our audience hasn't absorbed it. When we write, we do this as well in our efforts to be clear, but we should always go back and delete all aborted attempts to express that idea once we've found the one best expression of it.

problem 6: students expect us to grade them on what they meant to say or were trying to say instead of on what they said.

This problem resolves itself after the first paper or two. They take the hint.

problem 7: students believe english teachers grade subjectively.

And we do. :)

Seriously! We can't help it. The medium we work with—language—is highly subjective. Think about it. Let's say you had a rip-roaring weekend wherein you and a couple of good friends engaged in activities that may or may not have been illegal, but were certainly borderline. You wish to tell your story to another friend. Which words do you use? What details do you include? What do you emphasize? Now you wish to tell your mother. How does the delivery/story change? Your commander? Your chaplain?

This phenomenon holds with English papers. You are communicating for an audience, and who your audience is—what position they hold, their expectations and requirements, their pet peeves, their sensitivity—determines how and what you write.

This is why a paper you write for me might get a C+ while another teacher in the department might give it an A-. This is also why this very issue arises routinely in department grading practice sessions: Ultimately, what did I emphasize to this student? The student must know his audience and write to it. That's how communication works.

But when I agree that our grading is subjective, what I mean is different from what the students accuse us of. They clearly think we arbitrarily assign grades based on whether we like them or what they have to say. In my experience, this is rarely if ever the case.

problem 8: students think writing skills aren't terribly important.

This leads to the assumption that they already write well enough, and thus, many students don't expect to improve their writing skills in a composition course. Weird but true. They've had writing courses before and passed them, and this is no doubt just more of the same. It's just something they must suffer through to move on to the really important stuff they're in college to learn.

This is also partly due, no doubt, to our culture's increased emphasis, over the past two decades, on going to college for technical knowledge and skills. Emphasize science enough and you deemphasize the humanities by proxy.

***

And so it goes. Now...to find cures.

d