Victoria's Blog

My philosophy as a teacher includes:

• A strong emphasis on mastery of the English language and grammar (syntax, usage, and mechanics), both in spoken and written forms. This is based on my childhood experience of living in two countries with distinctly different attitudes toward child education, from which I learned the importance of building on basic linguistic skills from an early age.

• Promoting consideration and respect for diversity in others, regardless of ethnicity, religion, gender etc.

• Developing close reading and analysis skills for many different literary genres, from which the student learns to identify subliminal messages and discover various possible meanings beyond the words themselves.

• Encouraging the ability to participate in and lead class discussions, in order to develop strong communication skills and encourage students to assist each other in learning.

Very early on in my awareness of life, there is a distinct memory of a British reading program called the Oxford Reading Tree. This was a wonderful system (which my mother sold in a garage sale . . . naturally) designed to build on itself, beginning with basic words and progressing through more than 14 levels to relatively advanced reading and comprehension skills. Between this system and the fact that my parents have read to me as long as I can remember (there’s even home-video evidence of this), I’m quite sure that reading has been a big part of my life from the dawn of my consciousness.

I clearly remember being heavily into books from the age of 6, at which point my school in England had its own system of moving young readers through various levels of books, the first one being Fat Pig’s Birthday (a title which in this day and age is decidedly politically incorrect, but since this was the early 90s, we’ll let it slide). I remember moving on to Jane and the Big Yellow Machine, which I pronounced Mah-Chyne (only once), and then things like Percy Green House and Jennifer Yellow House. There were even green- and yellow-roofed houses quite close to the school, so a field trip to visit them was always a treat.

The first “young adult” book I remember reading was The Animals of Farthing Wood by Colin Dann, a fantastic book, the first in a series of six, which was later made into a cartoon and exploded into a British cultural phenomenon that entailed clothing, magazines, and every child trinket you can imagine. When we moved to America in 1995 and I asked my 4th grade teacher if this was a book the entire class might enjoy, she took it for a day, had it “analyzed,” and came back to me saying there was no way, since it was written to a 9th grade reading level minimum. This was the beginning of many instances when I would be made painfully aware of the education differences between Great Britain and America. The average American newspaper is written to an 8th grade reading level, since the assumption is that that’s the average level of education completion in this country. Compare this statistic to the average newspapers in England which are written to a college reading level, and we begin to see a problem. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was originally called Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, but when it hit the American market it was decided that U.S. children wouldn’t know what a philosopher was, and so the title had to be changed.

The realization that my early reading education was more advanced than my American peers’ was both concerning and motivating. It was at this point that I decided that I must not allow myself (an overly anxious 9 year old) to coast on what was expected of my age group; I must use my foundation as an advantage to do well in reading and writing. In every writing assignment I received that first year in America, I would write and re-write my responses, worrying over every detail. I remember one assignment where we had to write poems about our fears, and I wrote two about storms and dinosaurs which I could still recite today due to the countless times I revised them both. They’re actually pretty good!

Despite enjoying the poetry assignment, I was never particularly fond of creative or personal writing. I made dozens of attempts at keeping diaries and journals, but after a day or two I would be so bored of reliving my daily experiences that the experiment would be abandoned. I don’t like talking about myself, and I found journal-keeping to be a decidedly self-centered activity. I much preferred writing things like reports and essays. I remember an essay assignment for a history class in which I had to choose a topic unfamiliar to me and write a few pages on the history of that topic. I chose two different things: Afghan Hounds, and the explosion at Chernobyl, and I wrote at least 5 pages on each. This was in 6th grade.

As I moved into middle and high school, I discovered the delightful subject known as literature. Now this was something I found pretty darn cool; not only did you actually get to read in class, you HAD to! And then, you had to write about what you’d read!!! I was sure they’d created this setup as a sort of comic relief, since something so thoroughly enjoyable couldn’t possibly be part of school. Luckily for me, it was real, respected, and something you could continue even after high school. It was during my high school years that I distinctly remember learning things like grammar rules, sentence structure, how to analyze a piece of literature, and how to proofread. I suppose it was at this point that I really learned how to write; not the physical act of forming letters, but the art of crafting words into phrases that were coherent and had deeper meaning that the words on the surface.

When I went to college I wanted to be a vet, so I spent my first year as a biology major. I quickly decided that I didn’t want to spend the next 10 years in college (hahahaha, says the woman with a plan for a PhD), so I switched to English since it was “easy” for me and I enjoyed it. Makes sense, I suppose, since everyone you ever meet tells you to do the things that you love so you never have to actually work a day in your life. Over the next few years I learned to further refine my writing style and to allow myself to write in a way that expressed who I was, even if it was technically creative writing. It took a while for me to realize that it was ok to have my own distinct style (something desirable, even), and to loosen up in my writing. Humor is a plus in any sort of writing, even formal assignments.

In the last couple years of my undergraduate, the paper assignments gradually got longer, until they reached required lengths of 15 to 20 pages. The first time I saw this on the syllabus, I about died. It’s been interesting to observe my reactions over the past couple months, as now a paper of that length is a relief, not a major panic-inducer. I suppose if and when I write a thesis and/or dissertation I’ll freak out at first, but hopefully I’ll get through it. It’s all part of the learning process. I hope I never fully finish learning how to write.

I think it’s vitally important that teachers are aware that they should be learning just as much in the classroom as their students. We may already know the  subjects up for discussion, but the hows and whys of what we teach are constantly changing, which makes it necessary for us to evolve with the student body. Students today are not the same as the type of students we were as undergraduate freshmen, and we were not the same as our teachers when they were 18.

I recently read a book called Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee, and a passage which really struck me was when the main character realized that he, as a teacher, learned the lessons, and those who came to learn learned nothing. I hope this is not the case for my students (although I hope that I do learn from them). Gauging how students are absorbing the material, if at all, as well as how my methods are reaching them, are all things I need to monitor and adjust as needed. I think that’s how teachers should be learning. Not only should we stay current on today’s new philosophies and theories (remember that Pluto was still a planet when we were in school!), but also how each new set of students works, how their world affects their learning style and values, and how to best reach and inspire them.

In terms of how to be a reflective practitioner, I actually had to look the phrase up, and it means reflecting on one’s own personal experiences in life (and in the classroom, for this situation), and developing one’s actions according to what those experiences teach us. To bring this down to overly simplified terms, I think this means taking what we learn from our students (i.e. how various activities/exercises/assignments work) and applying that new knowledge to later classes. Things that are successful are kept; things that bomb are put aside for re-evaluation and/or a group that might benefit better.

Since my mother is a college professor, I’ve heard her say plenty about what I should expect when I walk into the classroom. One of the main things is that most of the students simply don’t want to be there. It’s probably not their dream to go to college, and it’s certainly not their dream to have to learn writing skills. Usually they’re there because parents have made it the only option, or because it’s a required course on the road to some degree that they’re actually interested in. So it’s up to me to make the class as pain-free (for everyone, including myself) as possible, and if that means making cracks at my own expense to keep them laughing (a laughing student is an awake student) then so be it.

Another point I think it’s important for a teacher to be aware of is the fact that we will spend more time grading an assignment than most students will spend writing it. Pretty disheartening, I know, but it puts things into perspective, and it reminds us not to spend hours “helping” a student who clearly just doesn’t care. If it’s obvious that a concerted effort has been applied to a paper, then I am more than willing to put just as much effort into my review of it. But if I feel that something has been written 10 minutes prior to submission time, then I’m not going to feel bad if I don’t go over it with a fine-tooth comb.

Students coming into FYC need to know that it’s time to work, and that the work needs to be taken seriously. They also need to know that we’re not here to torture them, but rather to help them grow in their writing abilities as much as they will allow us to do so. No teacher enjoys reading shoddy writing, any more than a student enjoys producing it, but if that’s what is given us, they cannot expect to walk out of the class with an A. Further, they need to learn to look beyond the numerical grade and actually think about the comments on their work’s feedback. It’s there to be used as a guide. Do us a favor and make our time worthwhile.

As for a Plan B if students don’t come to class with this knowledge . . . what is there to do? We can’t force them to enjoy writing classes. We can’t sit with them while they proofread their work before submitting it. But I think in-class exercises in which they bring to class some of the feedback they’ve received and then write a paragraph response analyzing it might be useful in getting them to see the benefit of reading the graders’ comments. At least then the teacher will know that they’ve looked at it. And we can always live for the few students who actually want to be there and put in the effort, and who, at the end of the semester, have clearly improved.

When I grade, I focus primarily on content, and whether or not the student has responded correctly to the prompt. If the writing doesn’t answer the question, I cannot reward the student for his or her writing, regardless of how artful it might be. If, however, the question is answered properly, I go on to examine how well the assertions are supported, whether or not the argument/analysis etc makes sense, and whether or not I feel the student genuinely understood the point of the exercise. Since this is FYC, I also focus quite a bit on grammar, looking for recurring errors in particular areas, and correcting them as necessary. That being said, I do not penalize too harshly for grammatical problems, since the student is in the process of learning about such things, and cannot be expected to be perfect at employing them just yet.

I grade in this manner in order to help the student learn in the most efficient and clear fashion possible. I try to focus on recurring errors because if I picked at every little error, the list of comments would be so long that the student probably wouldn’t even read them. I try to be encouraging, because I want them to have a positive experience, and be open-minded to constructive criticism, so that they can use my advice for future assignments. I focus on content and whether or not the question is properly answered because being able to follow directions and support your assertions is vital in any area of academia and professional life, and because I want them to at least begin to read beyond just the words, and try to think critically about both what they’re reading and what they’re writing.

I think I grade this way because my philosophy regarding composition is to help as many students in the most efficient way possible, while still making my comments pertain directly to them. The drop-out rate is so high amongst freshmen that I cannot bring myself to be scathing, because I think that a lot of these students might give up at the first sign of error or failure. It’s my job, as an instructor, to do my best to keep them in class, keep them interested, and keep them positive about writing. So many of them don’t enjoy it coming into this course, so to be unnecessarily harsh will only reinforce this preconceived notion that they can’t write well.

Perhaps the biggest issue I’ve been struggling with in my short time as a DI has been the difficulty in getting students to take assignments seriously. It is clear that there are some students who give themselves plenty of time to respond to the Brief Assignments, and who produce thoughtful, clear, well-written writing. But the VAST majority of writing which I have graded thus far seems to be decidedly rushed and superficial. How do we get students to put in some effort? I’ve had many grading days where I literally have to walk away from the computer to keep myself from going insane. The gross generalizations, stereotypes, racist comments, sloppy writing, lack of proof-reading, and overall poor performance, all seem rampant amongst freshmen. I understand that I cannot expect them to be perfect in their use of grammar, sentence structure, and phrasing, but spelling errors? Incomplete sentences? Spell-checkers come standard with every single writing program these days, so why aren’t they being utilized?

I had one student tell me that they’d had “many problems with shits in the past,” to which I felt the urge to reply “see a doctor about that.” I know that’s just a mistake and the student didn’t actually mean it (I’m almost 100% certain he/she meant shifts), but a quick read-through would probably have caught it. Another student explained to me that there are many differences between males and females, and there have been many studies to support this. I hit the floor on that one. But seriously, how do we get these students from writing like this to writing like, well, writers? Is there some magic point in time where they all realize it’s time to step it up? Or are the majority of them doomed to remain in the inappropriate stage forever? I find it hard to believe that they can’t improve, but how do I get THEM to believe that they can? Or even care?

I was greatly surprised by how interesting the Take 20 video was. The diversity in the teachers and their teaching styles and emphases was impressive, as was the fact that many of them had similar overall goals in how and what they teach. Particularly helpful were the questions about what books and essays to read, and who has influenced them the most in their teaching style. This gave me a guideline of things to research to strengthen my own teaching methods.

Recurring themes seemed to be things like a need for emphasis on and attention to technology and how it has affected writing; the importance of commenting on student writing in such a way as to guide the writer and provide helpful feedback that will enable the student to grow and become more successful (instead of simply justifying a given grade or focusing only on technical errors); the need to show students that writing can be fun, and that their preconceived notions of writing are probably not entirely accurate; and the unanimous opinion that group work is both important and helpful.

I was most inspired by the fact that every single teacher was enthusiastic about his or her responses, and that ALL of them seemed to be having fun. The fact that many of them said that they still had fun was particularly encouraging (who wants to be on the starting end of a non-fun career?). They also seemed to be very open to the idea that they don’t know everything, and they are ok with that. How nice to be in a professional field where it is acceptable to be human!

It took me a while to develop an effect writing process, although I suspect this is not unusual. I used to be one of those students who sat down the night before (or the morning) a paper was due, and churn it out in four or five hours. They were usually pretty good – structured, proof-read, clear thesis sentence, etc., but by pretty good I mean high school/early college good. Once I realized that English would be a prominent part of my future, I decided that perhaps my writing process needed some work, so after several failed attempts (including one or two well-deserved lower grades from English professors) I developed something that was a bit more on-track.

For shorter writing assignments, I generally start my research at least a week prior to the due date (obviously this stretches out to MANY weeks earlier for longer papers). I try to assess my sources as soon as I get them to determine if they’re going to be helpful. I then outline the structure of my paper by hand, and write down any solid ideas or complete sentences I might have thought of. Next I write my rough draft, and try to make it as full as possible, including quotes. I find that if I have my thoughts formulated but “save” them for a later draft, I usually forget them by the time later comes around. After the first draft is complete I print it out to proofread. I have a hard time reading straight from the computer screen, and I tend to miss a lot more errors than if I’m reading a hard copy. I also like to be able to draw all over the draft, making notes to myself, rearranging structure, and highlighting any particularly good points. Then I work on my next draft, correcting any errors, filling out my points and adding any necessary quotes or clarifications. After another proofread I’ll fix any final errors, have someone else read through the paper to check for anything I might have missed, and then I’m finished!

As I said above, I’ve had a hard time in the past beginning my writing process early enough. I find it difficult to work when there is no pressure to meet a deadline, and so I tend to put things off until I feel at least a twinge of panic. Starting the process earlier will mean better research, more opportunities for close proofreading, and time for more drafts. I fully intend to work on this!

Teaching the writing process is very important for freshman, because most of them don’t have any process whatsoever. While I was able to sit down and write a paper the night before, most freshman probably can’t, and so we must teach them the appropriate time-lines and steps to f0llow for producing clear, structured work. It might be the key some of them have been missing for writing well!

A voice that resonates enhances academic voice, because without the former, you simply can’t have the latter. If a writer tries too hard to be purely academic, he or she runs the risk of eradicating voice altogether, producing the written equivalent of a monotone lecture (the horror!). Writing academically with voice does not, however, mean writing informally. Your academic voice should simply be a more polished, formal version of your normal journal/blog/etc voice. I would have students think of it as the difference between fast food (your everyday voice) and a formal meal at a 5-star restaurant (academic voice). You’re still yourself at the 5-star place, but you’re probably going to mind your manners more so than in the McDonald’s drive-through.

Writing that lacks voice isn’t fun for anyone to read, and I don’t honestly believe it’s much fun to write. Students need to learn to enjoy writing, so we must find a balance between teaching them the mechanics and formalities of writing without sucking all the expressiveness and creativity from it. Otherwise most students will do the bare minimum to get by, and finish the class without a thought of ever writing again.

Much like the activity we practiced in class on Tuesday, I think it’s vitally important to have your voice come through your work even if your name is not attached to it. Although few of us are as famous as Joe Biden or Kanye West, at the very least our professors should recognize our writing from the voice in which we write. The same should apply (eventually) to the freshman writer. Although in TTU ENGL 1301 the professor does not grade his or her own students’ papers every time, ideally we should strive to help each student develop a distinct, recognizable voice.

First Year Composition, it seems to me, is a bit of a jack-of-all-trades class. It’s purpose is to determine and then address any and all weaknesses in the writing skills of incoming freshmen in order to get them up to speed with their peers who managed to test out of the class. Reading some of the assignments that the FYC students have already submitted to RaiderWriter, I have wondered (more than once) just what exactly, if anything, their high school teachers were doing. Some of them have even stated that they didn’t have to take English in their last year(s) of high school . . . uh, what? Did you learn absolutely everything you’d ever need to know about the subject in your sophomore year? Apparently, that’s the attitude many of them have, and it is our job to gently point out that if that were the case, they probably wouldn’t have to take FYC in the first place. But they do, and so here we all are. God forbid they fail and have to take the class again.

Since FYC students are so obviously filled with glee as the prospect of 3+ months of English, we ought to nurture that attitude. In the unlikely event that we encounter a student who is less than thrilled with the idea, we must show them why writing is an essential skill to master, and do our best to uncover the benefits and even the fun involved in writing successfully. That being said, it is vital that we teach a proper, methodical writing process that involves outlining, drafting, and proofreading. We must also teach correct grammar usage, covering everything from capitalization to hyphens to modifiers to commas. I think it’s important to gauge each particular class and focus on specific problems that those students have, instead of just going through a list of things that we think they don’t know. Nothing turns a student’s attention off faster than being told something he or she thinks they already know.

Disclaimer: Parts of this blog were written in a joking fashion. Do not take everything I have written here seriously. Except for the serious bits. Those are to be taken seriously.