What? Your Students Are Reading Their Textbooks?!

An interesting discussion has been taking place on one of the listservs I belong to, focusing on what we can do to encourage students both to read their textbooks and to make sense of what they read.  Below are a few of the suggestions.

• Try “JITTs” (Just-in-Time Teaching), an approach that involves asking deep questions or questions that you think will be hard for students to answer and ending with something like “What did you find especially puzzling or especially interesting in the reading?”  Student answers are graded (to encourage participation) and turned in before class, so that the teacher knows what to focus on in class  (Bill Goffe, Penn State University)
• Don’t like JITTS?  Try SPUNKI, which stands for questions asking what was Surprising, Puzzling, Useful, New, Knew it already,  and Interesting.  Rebecca Clemente (North Central College) has students use a rubric that involves them finishing sentences like ““When the article stated … this was surprising because …“  Then they talk over their responses in groups at the beginning of class to set the focus for the discussion to follow.
• Another way to stimulate motivation for reading recommended by Jen Lara is going through an upcoming assignment, writing important quotes down on individual note cards, and having all students at the beginning of class pick a quote that is of interest to them and then discuss it with a partner. 
• A variation of this was suggested by Jill Dahlman (University of Nevada, Reno ): “I am going to ask people to note on a piece of paper (no name!) where they had difficulty and a list of words that they didn't fully understand and turn these in. I'm going to start our discussion with going through those areas of difficulty, and then see if any of these areas spark a discussion. Reading academic language is difficult, and the more students can see that it's ‘not just them,’ then I think more people will become engaged.”
• A number of listserv members recommended online discussions as a good way to motivate students to read and clarify reading assignments.  Charles MacArthur (University of Delaware) pointed out that “one good angle for questions is about the value or meaning of the reading for students' own lives. How would you use this? How is it related to your experience?”
• Lynda Harding (CSU Fresno) assigns students to online discussion groups and gives them some credit for posting a question and some for answering a colleague’s question or for helping to select one or two questions for the group to submit to her.
• Jon Mueller (North Central College) has students write just a couple sentences about two or three questions he poses on the reading assignment.  Credit is given not for accuracy but just if the student has made a good-faith effort, so it only takes 5 -10 minutes to assign credit to a stack of papers.  He added, “I was initially surprised that virtually all of my students, including the weaker and less motivated ones, complete almost all of the assignments. They are much better prepared for class.”
• Lee Torda (Bridgewater State University) has a different approach, a “top 5 document”:  “One page. Single spaced. Top Five Things You Think Are Important for Other People to Get from this Reading. It's a living document in class. Students read each others'. They battle over their choices in a friendly way. They write back and forth about it so I don't really do a ton of evaluation of it. Mostly if they do it and it's not absolutely wrong and phony, they get the credit. And it's 15% of their final grade.”
• And finally Irv Peckham (Drexel) reminded everyone of the importance of giving reading assignments that students will enjoy reading, that they can feel connected to, since, as he put it, “Reading and writing should be a pleasure for students.”

Have you used any of these?  Did they work?  Do you have tips to add to the list? 

In Praise of the Humble Comma

As we return from midterm break, not yet ready, perhaps, to think deeply on difficult pedagogical matters, I thought that that you might enjoy the following brief essay by Pico Iyer, first published in Time Magazine June 24, 2001, entitled "In Praise of the Humble Comma."  (And if you want to comment on why it seems to be so hard for our students to keep that simple "red light, yellow light, stop sign" concept straight, or share ways you've developed to help them control punctuation, by all means please do!)  --Linda

The gods, they say, give breath, and they take it away. But the same could be said -- could it not? -- of the humble comma. Add it to the present clause, and, of a sudden, the mind is, quite literally, given pause to think; take it out if you wish or forget it and the mind is deprived of a resting place. Yet still the comma gets no respect. It seems just a slip of a thing, a pedant's tick, a blip on the edge of our consciousness, a kind of printer's smudge almost. Small, we claim, is beautiful (especially in the age of the microchip). Yet what is so often used, and so rarely recalled, as the comma -- unless it be breath itself?

Punctuation, one is taught, has a point: to keep up law and order. Punctuation marks are the road signs placed along the highway of our communication -- to control speeds, provide directions and prevent head-on collisions. A period has the unblinking finality of a red light; the comma is a flashing yellow light that asks us only to slow down; and the semicolon is a stop sign that tells us to ease gradually to a halt, before gradually starting up again. By establishing the relations between words, punctuation establishes the relations between the people using words. That may be one reason why schoolteachers exalt it and lovers defy it ("We love each other and belong to each other let's don't ever hurt each other Nicole let's don't ever hurt each other," wrote Gary Gilmore to his girlfriend). A comma, he must have known, "separates inseparables," in the clinching words of H.W. Fowler, King of English Usage.

Punctuation, then, is a civic prop, a pillar that holds society upright. (A run-on sentence, its phrases piling up without division, is as unsightly as a sink piled high with dirty dishes.) Small wonder, then, that punctuation was one of the first proprieties of the Victorian age, the age of the corset, that the modernists threw off: the sexual revolution might be said to have begun when Joyce's Molly Bloom spilled out all her private thoughts in 36 pages of unbridled, almost unperioded and officially censored prose; and another rebellion was surely marked when E.E. Cummings first felt free to commit "God" to the lower case.

Punctuation thus becomes the signature of cultures. The hot-blooded Spaniard seems to be revealed in the passion and urgency of his doubled exclamation points and question marks ("¡Caramba! ¿Quien sabe?"), while the impassive Chinese traditionally added to his so-called inscrutability by omitting directions from his ideograms. The anarchy and commotion of the '60s were given voice in the exploding exclamation marks, riotous capital letters and Day-Glo italics of Tom Wolfe's spray-paint prose; and in Communist societies, where the State is absolute, the dignity -- and divinity -- of capital letters is reserved for Ministries, Sub-Committees and Secretariats.Yet punctuation is something more than a culture's birthmark; it scores the music in our minds, gets our thoughts moving to the rhythm of our hearts. Punctuation is the notation in the sheet music of our words, telling us when to rest, or when to raise our voices; it acknowledges that the meaning of our discourse, as of any symphonic composition, lies not in the units but in the pauses, the pacing and the phrasing. Punctuation is the way one bats one's eyes, lowers one's voice or blushes demurely. Punctuation adjusts the tone and color and volume till the feeling comes into perfect focus: not disgust exactly, but distaste; not lust, or like, but love.

Punctuation, in short, gives us the human voice, and all the meanings that lie between the words. "You aren't young, are you?" loses its innocence when it loses the question mark. Every child knows the menace of a dropped apostrophe (the parent's "Don't do that" shifting into the more slowly enunciated "Do not do that"), and every believer, the ignominy of having his faith reduced to "faith." Add an exclamation point to "To be or not to be . . . " and the gloomy Dane has all the resolve he needs; add a comma, and the noble sobriety of "God save the Queen" becomes a cry of desperation bordering on double sacrilege. 

Sometimes, of course, our markings may be simply a matter of aesthetics. Popping in a comma can be like slipping on the necklace that gives an outfit quiet elegance, or like catching the sound of running water that complements, as it completes, the silence of a Japanese landscape. When V.S. Naipaul, in his latest novel, writes, "He was a middle-aged man, with glasses," the first comma can seem a little precious. Yet it gives the description a spin, as well as a subtlety, that it otherwise lacks, and it shows that the glasses are not part of the middle-agedness, but something else. 

Thus all these tiny scratches give us breadth and heft and depth. A world that has only periods is a world without inflections. It is a world without shade. It has a music without sharps and flats. It is a martial music. It has a jackboot rhythm. Words cannot bend and curve. A comma, by comparison, catches the gentle drift of the mind in thought, turning in on itself and back on itself, reversing, redoubling and returning along the course of its own sweet river music; while the semicolon brings clauses and thoughts together with all the silent discretion of a hostess arranging guests around her dinner table. 

Punctuation, then, is a matter of care. Care for words, yes, but also, and more important, for what the words imply. Only a lover notices the small things: the way the afternoon light catches the nape of a neck, or how a strand of hair slips out from behind an ear, or the way a finger curls around a cup. And no one scans a letter so closely as a lover, searching for its small print, straining to hear its nuances, its gasps, its sighs and hesitations, poring over the secret messages that lie in every cadence. The difference between "Jane (whom I adore)" and "Jane, whom I adore," and the difference between them both and "Jane -- whom I adore -- " marks all the distance between ecstasy and heartache. "No iron can pierce the heart with such force as a period put at just the right place," in Isaac Babel's lovely words; a comma can let us hear a voice break, or a heart. Punctuation, in fact, is a labor of love. Which brings us back, in a way, to gods.

The Millenial Reading Games

Guest Blogger:  Jamila Cupid

Every semester, I have at least one student ask how to become a better writer.  Once in a while I also get inquiries regarding how to grow one’s vocabulary and how to get better at copy editing.  Every semester, I reiterate to students the best way to improve these skills is to read, read, and read some more.  Yet, a couple of classes into the semester, I walk into a room full of pupils who have not cracked open the textbook, reviewed any of supplemental material and certainly have not done any independent reading on related topics.  Many of them even reveal limited knowledge of current events plastered across print and online newspapers.  The question that haunts me with each class prep, the question that seeps into my dreams at night, is “How do educators get students to not just read, but want to read?”    

I reached out to colleagues and mentors to find out what techniques they use to convince students to read.  The method that ranked number one was quizzing students after each chapter.  Some said they administer quizzes in class, but many now set up timed exams online for the students to take prior to class.  Other methods at the top of the list were assigning reaction papers and small group presentations.  Others said they always lead the lecture with questions related to the reading.  These are all terrific ideas, tried and true.  The only problem was that I had already implemented most of these tactics in classes.  It seemed that over time their effectiveness had been waning as some newer students did not mind accepting an assignment, quiz or class participation grade of zero for the day and were not the least bit embarrassed about being unprepared for class discussions.  What a conundrum!

Well then, imagine my surprise when I came across the 2012 U.S. Book Consumer Demographics and Buying Behaviors Annual Review that claims Millennials (Generation Y) passed Baby Boomers in book purchasing in 2011 (Bowker.com).  This statistic raised a gaggle of questions in my mind.  What kinds of books are they buying?  Are they actually reading the books?  What are they reading?  Where are they reading it?  Do these books serve more of a decorative purpose, like a coffee table prop or a new age tea cup coaster?  I imagined these books stacked into pedestals holding up iPads and smartphones in positions of reverence.  Then I came across further findings which revealed that many Millennial book purchases are across digital spaces and they are ushering in the digital shift for the book industry.  The stacks of books toppled, making way for the expansion of e-book and audio book applications on the shiny mobile devices. 

Perhaps, the copious notes, reaction papers, quizzes, and printed textbooks are on their way to obsolescence.  For now, many of us still find them somewhat effective.  Thus, we may not need to abandon traditional methods, but it may be time for us to transition in more than a few reading assignments that are broken into shorter segments on digital platforms in audio formats followed by fireworks.  (I’m just joking about the fireworks …unless it works.)  Additionally, classroom flipping – the method in which homework and activities occur in class while lectures and PowerPoint presentations are administered online outside of class time – may be a missing link in our curricula.  With its flexible nature, classroom flipping could advance traditional teaching methods to accommodate the brains of the “digital natives” we are now charged with training.  The only way to find out is to give it a whirl.  So I find myself compartmentalizing the reading assignments and relating them to topics the students can’t stop chatting about, then extending the conversation to topics beyond their daily scope and comfort zone.  I am considering full flipping options through the correct university channels and processes for upcoming semesters.  Until then, more class time is now dedicated to increasing class activities that get students engaged and even catapult the higher performing students into leadership roles amongst their peers.  Also, more of the real world is physically brought into the classroom with every opportunity that arises.  Much of it works, some of it does not, but the process is ongoing and more of my students are opening their book (apps).   There is still, and always will be, tons of room for growth.  So please share the things you do to get students to read, think critically, and engage.   

Learning to Teach Online

by Linda Stine

Shortly before this semester began, I woke up from a typical anxiety dream:  it was the first day of class and I could not find my classroom or my students; I was running around frantically, unable to ask anyone for help because I didn’t speak their language.

This time I chuckled a bit, once my heart rate slowed down, knowing that my anxiety was more real than symbolic.  In two days I would be starting my first online class, and  I really wouldn’t be able to “find” my classroom and students since they would be out in cyberspace, in a world where neither I nor my adult students were really comfortable with the language. (How do I explain the importance of regularly attending class, for instance, when there is no physical class to “attend”?)

As a writing teacher, I know that online courses can be successful, if only because most interactions – student/student, student/teacher, student/course content – will have to be conducted in writing, and I’m a firm believer in the adage that the more the students write the better they will write. So it’s a great adventure, for sure, and one I am eager to experience.  I suspect, though, that my sleep will be troubled frequently this semester as my conscious worries spill over into my unconscious.

Below are just a few of the teaching/learning worries that have been keeping me up at night. 

• What can I do in my online course to set the tone of support and encouragement that a physical presence, a listening ear, and a smile can create on a first day of face-to-face class?
•  What have I left off my syllabus or my assignment directions that students will need to know and that I normally would just explain orally?
• And speaking of my syllabus, it’s already 11 pages long!  I know that online syllabi have to be more comprehensive than in-class syllabi, but will the students actually read it? Will it feel too overwhelming?  Have I broken it into clear headings to help them see the sections?  Do I need to keep referring to it in emails to remind them that it’s there?  Should I have started with a graded “test” that required them to go through the syllabus and answer questions?
• What happens when technology problems (mine, theirs) occur?  Will the students have the necessary self efficacy to persevere?  What can I do to prepare them for the inevitable problems, beyond telling them to have back-up plans?
• While I tried to include links to videos among the homework “reading” assignments, the course is primarily print based.  Is that going to be a problem for students who learn better by hearing and seeing images?  Should I have posted each module’s “lecture” as a video rather than a written summary?  Or at least as an audio file? Does the medium matter as long as the content is clear?
• What questions haven’t I even thought of yet that should be added to my worry list?

For those of you who have taught online or been a student online, I’d be grateful for advice about what made online learning successful for you.  For those of you who are contemplating the leap, what kinds of issues are you most concerned about?  

Teaching Grammar/Learning Grammar. Sigh.

Guest Blogger: Linda Stine

Like everyone else, I've been moaning and groaning my way through midterms this week. And, like perhaps at least some of you, I've been wondering if my grammar explanations have been doing more harm than good, as I note fragmented ideas and run-on sentences and commas popping up in locations that just seem to belie any rational explanation.

On a listserv for writing teachers recently, a good conversation has been taking place on the whole issue of grammar instruction, student writing, and transferability of writing skills. We know that learning a new concept causes temporary backsliding as students struggle to fit the new knowledge into their existing sense of language structure and begin questioning everything, even concepts that they had previously mastered. (I like to think that's the reason for all those inexplicable commas...). We know too that the same backsliding occurs when students are asked to write on more complicated issues or in other classes with different content matter. We know too that teaching grammar directly and explicitly does little to improve student writing.

So given that, I was wondering what ways you have found that help your students learn, internalize, master, and transfer effectively to other classes the basic concepts of academic grammar and mechanics? Do you discuss grammar rules and then ask students to practice them in exercises before applying them in their own writing? Do you start with the students' own writing and work mainly on getting them to clarify their thoughts, trusting that grammar issues will clear themselves up without formal instruction simply as a side effect of clearer thinking and wider reading? Do you note grammar errors on papers? How? Where? When? Why? Do you have any techniques that work well for you that you could share with the rest of us? Or do you have questions about the whole pesky "good grammar” issue that you keep wrestling with without finding a good answer?

What should we all be doing, I wonder, to ensure that we are graduating students who can write clear, standard, academic English?

The Mission of the Writer's Studio: Your Help Requested

Guest blogger: William Donahue

My goal in this post is to involve the Lincoln University community in writing the mission statement for the Roscoe Lee Brown Writer’s Studio. Located in University Hall B-3 with hours this semester on Tuesdays from 3:30 until 5 p.m. and Wednesdays from 4 until 6 p.m., the RLB Writer’s Studio is based on a writing center model—a collaborative place to create better writers. We offer non-evaluative, one-on-one consultations on any writing matters, for any student at any level, as well as specialty workshops for groups. We also house the English Department’s component of the Humanities Tutoring Program in the core.

Let me start with an anecdote from a class in that core:

In yet another English Composition II class, this first day of midterm week, I explained my “revision” midterm assignment. Students need to take their short story analysis essay, write a revision, then write a meta-cognitive reflection of how they attempted to revise each graded entity on the rubric (thesis, support, etc), and finally address grammar and punctuation issues by writing the rule for their particular pattern of error as well as demonstrating application of that rule to their own writing.

No Scantron here. We are quickly climbing Bloom’s taxonomy and addressing numerous SLOGs.

The students are writing, revising, engaging in critical thinking, and learning about their writing process. But a finer point escaped the students—the difference I was trying to elicit between “editing” and “proofreading.” Even after my powerpoint and class discussion, a student response to the midterm assignment was to “fix the errors” as if there was nothing more to revision than fixing a mistake. That a thesis, although “somewhat effective” on the grading rubric, could not be revised further.

As I discussed with my students today and as I talk about the RLB Writer’s Studio as a “writing center” at Lincoln, I am often reminded of Stephen North’s 1984 essay in College English titled “The Idea of a Writing Center,” which was the basis for a “new” model of writing center that differed from the “basement, fix-it” shop approach to writing (VISIT US IN THE BASEMENT OF UNIVERSITY HALL!) Instead, North argued, “it represents the marriage of what are arguably the two most powerful contemporary perspectives on teaching writing: first, that writing is most usefully viewed as a process; and second, that writing curricula need to be student-centered” (438) as opposed to the “older” model where “instruction tends to take place after or apart from writing, and tends to focus on the correction of textual problems” (439).

Writing centers focus on creating better writers through collaborative, dialogue/question driven, non-directive measures. The goal is often a better writer, not necessarily a better written text. The analogy I often use is teaching people to fish so that they will never go hungry.

The more recent criticism of the process approach to writing, which developed in 60s through the 90s, comes from post process scholars such as Kent (2003) who assert that writing is social—a situated, public, and interpretative act. The product cannot be ignored.

So the Writing Center is stuck in the middle—which is right where we want to be.

WE DON'T FIX STUDENT WRITING (but we can help students fix their own writing).
WE DON'T DO REMEDIATION (but we can help remediate student writing).
WE WANT STUDENTS TO COME TO US (but any encouragement to help students find us will be accepted).
WE WORK WITH ANY WRITING ISSUE (believe it or not there is more to writing than grammar).
WE WANT TO PROMOTE WRITING (we want to promote writing).

After all as North stated, “if writing centers are going to finally be accepted, surely they must be accepted on their own terms, as places whose primary responsibility, whose only reason for being, is to talk to writers” (446).

So I now enter into a dialogue with you. Help us create our Mission Statement. What do you see as the mission of the Roscoe Lee Browne Writer’s Studio?

References

Kent, T. (2003). “Introduction.” Post-Process Theory: Beyond the Writing Process Paradigm. Ed. Thomas Kent. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP.

North, S. M. (1984). “The Idea of a Writing Center.” College English, 46(5), 433-446.