Friday, November 16, 2007
Conferences
I know this a old discussion, but I've been thinking about conferences. This will probably apply only for me and Lauren (we share the Wick office on the third floor), but our office space can only be described as wildly impractical for holding student conferences.
My lit professor at CSU this semester holds his office hours at the CSU food court, as opposed to his office in Rhodes Tower (anyone whose been to the campus knows that it's a pain to get to professor's offices in that building). I had a conference with him earlier this semester there, and I think the setting worked really well. Neither of us had a detailed plan of what we were going to cover (just a general idea), but we ended up hanging out for about an hour easily. The thing I've realized looking back was that there were plenty of times during the meeting that both of us were silent. We were either looking at our notes or books or thinking about responses. Oddly enough, even during the silences, it wasn't awkward. I think that the setting allowed us to be comfortable enough during those times when neither of us spoke, and I think that it would have been a little more uncomfortable if we were in an office setting.
That in mind, I was thinking about possible places to hold my office hours. The food court here at Kent is a little more busy (especially during lunch hours) so I figured that was a bit impractical. The second floor of the Student Center seems to be a proper place, and there's also the library. I was just wondering what you guys thought.
I'll also talk to Cathey Fahey-Hunt, another office mate of mine that teaches creative writing, where she holds conferences, since she has the same problem as Lauren and I.
My lit professor at CSU this semester holds his office hours at the CSU food court, as opposed to his office in Rhodes Tower (anyone whose been to the campus knows that it's a pain to get to professor's offices in that building). I had a conference with him earlier this semester there, and I think the setting worked really well. Neither of us had a detailed plan of what we were going to cover (just a general idea), but we ended up hanging out for about an hour easily. The thing I've realized looking back was that there were plenty of times during the meeting that both of us were silent. We were either looking at our notes or books or thinking about responses. Oddly enough, even during the silences, it wasn't awkward. I think that the setting allowed us to be comfortable enough during those times when neither of us spoke, and I think that it would have been a little more uncomfortable if we were in an office setting.
That in mind, I was thinking about possible places to hold my office hours. The food court here at Kent is a little more busy (especially during lunch hours) so I figured that was a bit impractical. The second floor of the Student Center seems to be a proper place, and there's also the library. I was just wondering what you guys thought.
I'll also talk to Cathey Fahey-Hunt, another office mate of mine that teaches creative writing, where she holds conferences, since she has the same problem as Lauren and I.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
To Err is Inhuman
Another set of articles about grammar, and I’m still left without any real answers. But are there any real answers?
I felt guilty going over these readings because while I hate prescriptivism—as shown in class—(that dash is for Mel)I do have a few pet peeves, and errors tend to jump out and distract me like so many wayward deer on the highway. Perhaps it’s because, as a writer, I’m snobbish and don’t want to let people into my exclusive social group. This is very possible. Completely disregarding the work that I do in school, I probably churn out 3000 words a week on various profitable and unprofitable projects in my spare time – this isn’t bragging; I’m obviously a sick, sick, man. So when I see a mistake published in writing, it’s a sort of affront to what I do, partially because I’m a harsh judge on myself when it comes to checking for what I perceive as errors. Right now, I’m glad I recognize this, because it’s going to put things in perspective when it comes to grading students’ papers. As Pam said in class, I think we react differently to a published mistake than we do to a mistake in a student paper, holding the implicit belief that the writer of the published work should “know better.”
Perspectives aside, I’m a little concerned about what to do with grammar. There are some things I think will be learned in time, and some things I think cannot be learned unless taught in some fashion. The Practice in Context article kind of hinted at this idea by claiming that talking about grammatical issues doesn’t need to be done unless the student really isn’t getting it. I did agree with some parts of this article, like correcting grammar within the context of the work (I did this all of the time when I was a tutor). But some practices, like “responding with correctness” seem to tiptoe around the issue and may make you come off as a little condescending. I’m just speaking from personal experience, here.
A major theme of grammar seems to be insecurity, and dealing with those insecurities. I like to do this by discussing the roots of dying grammatical rules and how ridiculous they are (like split infinitives). But even I find myself stifled and insecure when it comes time to sit down and write an academic paper. I know that I can’t express myself completely, and I’m trapped within the restraints of a very rigid system. And I’m still finding out the many new ways my writing can be incorrect. But deep down inside, I know I’m right.
I felt guilty going over these readings because while I hate prescriptivism—as shown in class—(that dash is for Mel)I do have a few pet peeves, and errors tend to jump out and distract me like so many wayward deer on the highway. Perhaps it’s because, as a writer, I’m snobbish and don’t want to let people into my exclusive social group. This is very possible. Completely disregarding the work that I do in school, I probably churn out 3000 words a week on various profitable and unprofitable projects in my spare time – this isn’t bragging; I’m obviously a sick, sick, man. So when I see a mistake published in writing, it’s a sort of affront to what I do, partially because I’m a harsh judge on myself when it comes to checking for what I perceive as errors. Right now, I’m glad I recognize this, because it’s going to put things in perspective when it comes to grading students’ papers. As Pam said in class, I think we react differently to a published mistake than we do to a mistake in a student paper, holding the implicit belief that the writer of the published work should “know better.”
Perspectives aside, I’m a little concerned about what to do with grammar. There are some things I think will be learned in time, and some things I think cannot be learned unless taught in some fashion. The Practice in Context article kind of hinted at this idea by claiming that talking about grammatical issues doesn’t need to be done unless the student really isn’t getting it. I did agree with some parts of this article, like correcting grammar within the context of the work (I did this all of the time when I was a tutor). But some practices, like “responding with correctness” seem to tiptoe around the issue and may make you come off as a little condescending. I’m just speaking from personal experience, here.
A major theme of grammar seems to be insecurity, and dealing with those insecurities. I like to do this by discussing the roots of dying grammatical rules and how ridiculous they are (like split infinitives). But even I find myself stifled and insecure when it comes time to sit down and write an academic paper. I know that I can’t express myself completely, and I’m trapped within the restraints of a very rigid system. And I’m still finding out the many new ways my writing can be incorrect. But deep down inside, I know I’m right.
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