Have you WAC-ed your WID today?

In theory, students who pass ENG101 and 102 (or their equivalents) have the foundation to make it through their remaining writing intensive courses. But in practice, many students hit writing assignments in the GenEd and their major and discover that what worked in English 101 and 102 doesn’t fly. They swear they did what the professor asked and yet they earned a D. What’s the deal?

As one of the people at WSU whose job it is to help faculty teach writing in the major, I spend a good deal of my time trying to keep this from happening. What I’ve discovered is that the problem often occurs when writers mistranslate WAC (that’s Writing Across the Curriculum) into WID (Writing in the Disciplines).

I just got back from the International WAC Conference in Austin, Texas where, along with three other WSU faculty members, I presented a panel on the challenges of translating WAC to WID. This panel grew out of work that began in Fall 2007 with Sarah Twill in the Department of Social Work and reviewing its key points here might help you understand what I mean by the need to translate WAC into WID.

When I first met with Sarah, she was feeling frustrated by her students’ writing. She felt her instructions were clear but she simply wasn’t getting what she asked for. Essentially, Sarah wanted students to describe a visit to a social work agency and respond to what they observed, comparing their practical experience to the textbooks’ treatment of similar situations. And her instructions were quite clear for someone familiar with the discipline. For the description, she wanted an objective report of what happened – details of the observation that could stand up in court as straight, clear fact. No judgments. No personal opinion. No extraneous detail. For the response, she wanted some evidence that the students were making connections between what they read, what they witnessed, and what that meant for them as a social worker.

The trouble lay in the language used. In discussing the assignment with students, Sarah asked for narrative and reflection, terms familiar to many students from their first year writing courses. But in first year composition classes, narrative typically means writing a story. Students are encouraged to include detail and dialogue to convey emotions and attitude. Reflection assignments in first year writing often ask students for a very personal response, one that doesn’t include outside sources. That’s not quite the narratives or reflections Sarah imagined.

The disconnect occurred because students were (understandably) focused on duplicating the ASSIGNMENTS they’d had in 101 and 102 rather than duplicating the THINKING they’d done in 101 and 102. Despite a difference in style, Sarah’s request for narrative and reflection still asked students to think in the same ways that 101 and 102 instructors ask their students to think. Her use of these terms wasn’t wrong. They were discipline-specific to social work, just as the use of them in 101 and 102 is discipline-specific to English composition.

So what’s a student to do? How can anyone possibly know every discipline’s specific meanings? The key is to focus less on remembering particular first year writing assignments and more on remembering the thinking you did to fulfill those assignments.

A good resource for helping you do this is Rich Bullock’s The Norton Field Guide to Writing, a common text in first year writing at WSU. It lists the most common genres in academic writing. Each genre chapter includes a section on key features – the elements expected when writing in this genre, regardless of the assignment. When Sarah and I reviewed the chapters on narrative and reflection, we saw that she wanted these same features in her students’ writing. But because of the difference in discipline, she needed students to express the information differently than they would in an English class. By pointing this out to her students and providing some examples of what she was expecting, she saw instant improvement in student performance.

For example, both my ENG101 literacy narrative assignment and Sarah’s request for narrative ask for ‘vivid detail.’ We both want students to include clear and specific detail to help readers picture who, what, where, when and how. But how we define ‘vivid’ is a little different. In my world, it means to add emotion and color; in Sarah’s it’s about painting a clear picture of the facts.

So if you’ve got a paper to revise by the end of this quarter and are feeling confused about why what worked before isn’t working this time, it might be useful to stop thinking about 101 and 102 as courses that helped you learn writing across the curriculum and consider them in terms of thinking across the curriculum. Take the WAC foundation in thinking gained in 101 and 102 and apply it to your WID. How are writing assignments in different disciplines beyond 101 and 102 asking for those same types of thinking even though the final product may be expressed differently?

What is revision?

As a first-year teaching assistant, a fourth-year writing tutor, and what feels like a gazillionth-year student, I have my own opinions about what revision is. As a freshman in college, I’m positive those ideas were very different. As I read my first year composition students’ papers, I’m also positive their ideas about revision are different than what mine are now. So, I guess that leaves this question - what is revision, really?

Thanks to Peggy Lindsey, a fellow English teacher with much more experience than I, I now have a handout about revision that I use in all of my first year composition classes, be it English 101 or 102. This handout is divided into two main sections: one with inexperienced writers’ definitions of revision (which many of them call by different names, such as “reviewing”) and one with experienced writers’ definitions of revision. Here’s one sample of each:

Inexperienced writer’s definition: “Reviewing means just using better words and eliminating words that are not needed. I go over and change words around.”

Experienced writer’s definition: “It is a matter of looking at the kernel of what I have written, the content, and then thinking about it, responding to it, making decisions, and actually restructuring it.”

In case you didn’t notice, there’s quite a big difference between those opinions. Something I have realized over my years as a writer, which is something I try to stress to my students now, is that revising does not mean just using the synonym finder or copying and pasting a sentence into a different part of the paper. And it definitely does not mean just fixing the grammatical errors your teacher has marked.

When I give my students comments on their rough drafts, drafts I expect them to revise at least once more, I usually make some marginal comments throughout the paper, and I tend to mark the grammatical mistakes I see them making repeatedly. However, I’m much more interested in larger, overall comments, which I usually write at the beginning or the end of the paper. These are comments about big problems I see with organization or logical fallacies or an unsupported or unidentifiable thesis. These are the big things I really want students to work on for the next draft, but they tend to ignore them and head straight for any comments about little things, like grammar.

Even though it can seem like writing a draft was enough hard work, it’s important to remember that a draft is probably just the first step and should be followed by an equally important step: revision. And to me, revision sometimes means writing an entirely different second draft based on what I learned from my first draft. I will at least alter my thesis if not change it entirely. I merge paragraphs together, delete some entirely, add a few, and move others around. When I write a first draft, I figure out exactly what I’m trying to say (or I at least get a better idea), so it only makes sense I would still have some big changes to make.

If you really want to take advantage of the revision process, do more than just change a word or two around or fix a comma here and there. Take a step back and look at the big picture, think about what works and what doesn’t work in a draft. If you have a lot of big changes to make, when you begin to revise, you might want to start with a blank page. Other times you will be able to work within the document you started for your first draft, but don’t get caught up in the words that are already there or the teacher’s comments about little things, like spelling and grammar, when there are bigger problems to deal with.

A link to a helpful document about revision (from the UNC writing center's webpage)

Pet Peeve with Writing Assignments #1

My students HATE strict guidelines for their written reports . . . well, some of them do anyway. They wonder why I impose them. Three of the main reasons for my strict guidelines are (1) uniformity of grading, (2) encouraging correct analyses, and (3) teaching the students how to write like businesspeople for businesspeople. Read through my rationales and let me know whether you buy them.

The strict guidelines help take some of the subjectivity out of my grading. If everyone turns in the same type of paper, consistency of grading is easier. If you were a student who submitted the paper without an element (for instance, an executive summary), and got a lower score for not including it--but that element was not in the guidelines for the assignment--would you consider the grading fair? With strict guidelines, I hope I can clearly convey expectations and thereby help students understand what they need to do to get favorable scores.

Second, some of my guidelines encourage my students to write (and thus think) systematically about their topic. To a degree, there are “best practices” for conducting the strategy analyses I assign to students in my business strategy classes, and I use strict guidelines for the write-ups on those analyses as a way to encourage students to do the analyses the right way. By dictating how ideas in my students’ papers are to be written up, I push students to organize their thoughts, not just their papers.

A third reason for the strict guidelines is that I’m training students to write reports in a way that businesspeople will like. There are certain formats that business audiences for written reports are familiar with, and it often helps students/graduates to learn and work within those formats when composing reports.

Now that I’ve given the reasons for my strict guidelines, I have to confess that I often wonder whether my approach is flawed. In fact, my approach has a couple of risks that I’m aware of (and probably numerous risks I’m not seeing).

Strict guidelines can stifle worthwhile innovation. Why would a student try another approach to writing a paper if it ran counter to my guidelines? If you were the student with a creative idea for fulfilling my assignment, you could do the extra work of clearing your idea with me before submitting your paper, but it’s easier to simply conform. Consequently, I don’t see much variety, and I miss out on opportunities to see potentially useful originality. Still, I’m COMFORTABLE taking this risk. Most of the papers I’ve collected that differ from my guidelines do NOT reflect creative genius.

Another concern is that, given the way I’ve compiled them, my guidelines could be a disorganized hodgepodge. Many of the guidelines were added to the list as a result of shortcomings I’ve seen in papers from prior quarters. Particularly when I see the same mistake in more than one student’s papers, I’m inclined to made additions to my list of guidelines in order to avoid seeing those deficiencies again. There’s a risk that the list of requirements will start to lack organization. Just like any writer, I need to ensure that there’s a logical organization to my guidelines to promote their readability and usability (I admit I haven’t done that in awhile). Similarly, there’s a risk of the list becoming too long and onerous (I’ve never really analyzed that).

What do you think? Do you buy my rationales for having strict instructions? Are there other important rationales? What do you think the downsides to strict guidelines are?

Now What?

I'm sure that just about all of us who have ever written anything longer than 2-3 pages have faced those moments when the wellspring of ideas dries up and we are left halfway through a story or research paper not knowing where to go or what to do. In moments like these, we throw down our pens, pencils, computer keyboards, or other writing implements, grab our hair, or bald scalps, and scream audibly or silently, "Now what?"

I was recently faced with this exact situation as I struggled to write a short piece--which was based on a true story. You'd think that, being based on a true story, it would be as easy as pie. I did, but that's where I was wrong. Knowing how the story ends doesn't make writing it any easier. There are always decisions along the way. What details should be included? What should be skipped over? What's really important? Had I taken the time to ask and answer these and a few other simple questions, the story--which, in its final form, turned out to be 4 pages--could have been written in one night rather than over the course of 2 weeks.

If we compare that instance with another from earlier this year, the point will be clear. A few months ago, I had an assignment to write a 10-12 page paper on a chapter from a book by James Joyce. What was different was that though I'd written nothing, I'd answer the crucial questions in my mind. A full draft was required in class the following day, and with a thesis decided on and points outlined, at 10:00 PM, I sat down to write. Within 10 hours I'd written a full, 11-page draft.

There is a clear difference between 4 pages in 2 weeks and 11 pages in one night. What is the difference? While writing the 11-page paper, I never once had to stop and think, "Now what?" Having those "now what" moments is detrimental to writing efficiently. Those moments literally force you to stop writing. So what can you do to prevent those "now what" moments? Outline. It doesn't have to be a beautifully formatted list of points, sub-points, ideas, and possibilities. Keep it simple. Know what you want to say. Know how much you need to say. Know where to start and where to end.

Your outline can be as simple as a list of ideas or as carefully planned as a list of what points need to be made in each paragraph. Basically, there's this exchange: The more you figure out before you start writing, the less you'll have to figure out while you're writing. Asking yourself questions beforehand is the best way to combat and eliminate those "now what" moments.

Toe tapping or busting a move… SOC200 2nd Paper

Regardless the genre, music stirs people emotionally or moves them physically (and in some cases, does both). The soon due (May 16th) SOC200 writing project for my Social Life classes involves examining a song that relates to a social issue or social problem. If you recall, the first project essentially was a “compare and contrast” between personal and social issues and problems involving terms like “self-efficacy” and “locus of control.” Now, we step beyond the basics and try our hand at an everyday practical application: hearing social issues and problems in music.

The choice of song is yours: select one that describes/illustrates a social issue or problem (or one of its causes or consequences). The style or type of music is also your choice, with the only restriction being that it must have lyrics; environmental sounds, clapping thunder, or a tree frog symphony at midnite are not acceptable for this project. If you want to flex your foreign language skills, you may select a non-Anglophone song; just be sure to include original and English translation of the lyrics. Regardless your musical bent, now you have an opportunity to explore music you never ventured into... and get credit for it!

Song information necessary includes artist/band, writer, title, album, year of production, and your reason for selecting this song. I urge you NOT to select a favorite love song or relationship song because students who do so get caught up in the personal level of issues and problems and are often are unable to get beyond the psychology of it (after all, this is a sociology course).

Name ONE social issue or problem in the song. You already know what makes an issue or problem social (rather than merely personal). Keep that distinction in mind as you are thinking about and writing this paper. Some issues and problems “could” be either personal or social, but your duty is to notch it up to the social level. To do that effectively, think about the ripple effect that situation creates for the larger society if enough people experience or are part of the problem or issue (as either victims or perpetrators).

Discography or biographical information about the song writer, performer, band, or lead singer can be found on line by Google-ing the person’s name or song title. Unless it is an unknown garage band, there will likely be official and unofficial sites popping up from your search engine. This part of your paper requires at least 250 words AND must be paraphrased (NO DIRECT QUOTATIONS -- but in-text citations are still required).

Lyrics can usually be found by running an internet search of the song title. The same title might be two different songs; be sure to get the one you really want. If you copy and paste it, be sure to convert it to the font of the rest of your paper. While you are there, be sure to get the album cover graphic (required for your cover page).

So far, so good… Now we get theoretical. Based on the tone and perspective of the song, determine which of the 4 sociological theories best explains the song: functionalism, social-conflict, SI, or feminist. State why you think it fits.

Conclude your paper with lessons learned by completing this project.

The assignment sheet and grading rubric (posted in the Course Studio) provide the details of this project. I have discussed most of them in this blog, but other requirements are use of MLA formatting, in-text citations, and cover page elements.

Pegah and I are available to look over your draft to let you know how on-target you are, but you must bring us a hardcopy to class or during office hours prior to the due day (no e-mail submissions please). Also, if you plan to make use of the Writing Center, make an appointment soon. This is their busy time of the quarter and un-arranged walk-ins will likely be unserviced immediately. Plan ahead. Remember Parkinson’s Law!

Please respond or acknowledge the usefulness of this blog in understanding or completing your project. Thank you for your time.

The Truncated Writing Process, or... Do as I say and not as I do

Last quarter I wrote an eight-page paper in 3+ hours. And the thing is, the next day I actually turned said paper into my professor. Why would I, a perennial student of writing and a tutor who espouses the many virtues of using a well-paced writing process, write in such a seemingly reckless manner?

Four reasons:

1) I'm insane

2) I'm insane

3) I was able to employ a truncated version of the writing process that helped me endlessly in my pursuit to churn out a strong paper in a short period of time.

4) I'm insane

So, the bottom line is, do not do what I did.

But I imagine we have all been there...for whatever reason, many times of our own doing, and other times not, we find ourselves in a crunch and have to produce something pronto. And while we all talk about the importance of the writing process, few classes other than English 101 or 102 actually allot students adequate time to process themselves into strong writing. Most classes set a due date for a paper and that's that...no second, third, or eighth chances.

Or perhaps it is not even a lengthy paper that is hanging over our heads but rather something as simple (and as potentially daunting) as an essay exam, where we have to produce cogent, thoughtful, well-written responses within a clear time limit.  Whatever the pressure cooker is and however high the temperature is set, it is never a good idea to throw the writing process out the window. And if one is able to adequately truncate said process, then it need not be defenestrated.

The hallmarks of a strong writing process involve brainstorming for the strongest idea, free- writing or outlining to get a general feel for what the paper needs to/will include, drafting to form a rough sketch of the paper, then getting feedback from a friend, teacher, tutor, or even yourself once you've removed yourself from the writing for a while, and then revising. And then revising again. It has the potential to go on for a while...

But again, it is not always realistic that a typical college student could go through that long a process. So what is the solution? How does one (if necessary) attempt to pack process into such a shortened time span?

Well, the simplest form of the answer is, "Do what you can." The longer answer goes like this:

• Let's assume you have your topic already selected. If it truly is crunch time, you will want to be writing, not thinking about what you should write about. Some teachers even shape the paper topics themselves. And in the case of an essay exam, the question is obviously right in from you.
• Get to the point...fast. I have yet to post on the virtues of the thesis statement, but let me talk about it for just a sec. The thesis statement--that wonderful sentence that you can usually find towards the end of the introductory paragraph of most strong essays--has the potential to be your savior, even in a bind. Clearly stating what major points your paper will cover and then allowing those points to keep you on track as you write will guide you through the remainder of your drafting. And the wonderful thing is, it will also guide your reader, and papers that flow are papers that are easy to love.
• Leave yourself time to stop and think...even a few minutes. One you've finished the quickest, roughest draft of your life, hopefully you can step away even for a little while, just to separate yourself from the writing you have just emerged from. This rest will give you time to reboot ever-so-slightly before jumping back into the abyss and refining what you've just written.
• Revision is still important, especially if you are short-shrifting the rest of your process. If you are able to read through your work a few times, you will most likely pin-point some areas you want to expand, delete, reword, or rethink. You obviously will not be able to write three more full drafts, but you might have time to read through the paper three more times and make a few changes that will make your work all the stronger.

I like to think I know a lot about writing, but I am not infallible. I wrote a paper in just over 3 hours. It was not a good idea for me, and it's not a good for you, either. But instead of hours, maybe you are trying to write a finished paper in 3 days. A truncated writing process could help you out immensely. If you get in a bind, are facing an in-class essay assignment, or are taking an essay exam, there is way to avoid sacrificing your entire writing process. It is not an ideal situation to find yourself in, to be sure. It can, however, help you create the best work you can under the circumstances.

Interesting post-script to my little anecdote: Since my prof was obviously not as fast a grader as I was a writer, I received my paper back about a month after I turned it in. Lo and behold, I was bestowed an A-. Go figure...my truncated writing process paid off. ***

*** = Results may vary. This example is not necessarily indicative of typical 3-hour essay outcomes. 

When time doesn’t fly

On my first day here at Wright State, I remember thinking that I would NEVER graduate. Not because I’m unmotivated, but just because four more years seemed like such a horribly long time to spend in classrooms.

Now, I have about five or six weeks left until those four years come to an end. Quite honestly, it scares me. In high school, the next four years were really the only part of my future I ever worried about, but they went by SO fast. Until now.

Usually, the spring is a time when every week is filled with countless activities, and this spring is no exception. But this time, busyness isn’t helping the time go by any faster. Instead, the clock seems frozen. This quarter just will not end. Each assignment looms over my head and taunts me. And when I actually sit down to do that dreaded studying or homework, I feel like I’m sitting at the computer or staring at the same book for days. Minutes seem like hours. It’s excruciating.

Especially when it comes to writing. I’m an English major and a writing tutor. I should enjoy this stuff, but recently, it’s just been one more thing on the to-do list. The only good thing is that I think I can finally identify with the students who come into the Writing Center complaining of their hatred for anything to do with writing. For the longest time, I just couldn’t see how it could be that bad, but I think I’m starting to get a glimpse of their perspective.

Luckily, having spent the last three years coming up with suggestions for others about how to make writing less painful, I’ve had at least a bit of success by taking my own advice. What works for me?

1. Doing the research first. Researching and writing are two very different things. In academic writing, the point is to add your own, fresh ideas to already existing research. How can you write about your new ideas if you don’t even know what the research already says? And worse, researching as you write can make it awfully tempting to plagiarize. We’ve all heard about plagiarism a hundred times, and we all know the consequences. Avoid the headache and know your topic before you even open Word.

2. Planning it out. The worst, most agonizing way to write is to sit down and do it all at once. If you absolutely must wait until the last minute to write your essay, at least spend a significant amount of time beforehand THINKING about what you’re going to write. Just having ideas can make the process run much more smoothly.

3. Taking breaks. Don’t force yourself to sit in front of a computer screen for hours on end. Your writing will start to sound terrible, and you’ll no doubt end up with carpal tunnel.

4. Getting myself to care. When I can make myself care about what I’m writing, the process is usually a lot less painful. If your topic is really that bad, perhaps you ought to choose a better one. And if you can’t choose another topic, at least try to find something endearing about your topic and run with it.

5. Giving myself rewards. A lot of times, I’ll think to myself, “Just finish this page, and then you can eat that candy bar.” Do whatever works for you.

So now, I’ll click post, I’ll stand up and stretch, and then I’ll go eat my Milky Way.