After Monday, I started to think more about the Sondra Perl article and the method used in her research. I think it is valuable to actually track and identify the process of writing—although the coding has me completely confused! It might not be an exact science, but understanding what we do—or what some “unskilled” writers do—can help us address and work through difficulties. Just realizing some of the habits noted in the Perl research has made me reevaluate some of my thoughts on composition.
In the section on prewriting, Perl mentions that the actual prewriting phase for most students was very minimal—only an average of four minutes. However, for students without a clear, concise plan, “writing led to planning which led to clarifying which led to more writing.” Also, “developing and clarifying of ideas is facilitated once students translate some of those ideas into written form” (432). So, articulating thoughts in writing sparked new ideas and directions. Perl later discusses the “recursive movements” of the students, and how they were constantly writing, editing, and planning (432). I think some recursive practice is natural in writing. Writing, after all, is not a linear process. Perl notes that “composing does not occur in a straightforward, linear fashion” (433). As writers, we seem to naturally rework our thoughts, whether it is coming up with a better sounding word, adding extra phrases to that first paragraph, moving up a sentence, noticing a misspelling, or suddenly thinking of an example to use later. That’s why it’s so much easier to draft on a computer rather than with pencil and paper. I think I embrace the non-linear aspects of writing! From Perl’s research, however, there does seem to be some recursive behavior that is deterring and distracting, such as the students’ preoccupation with proofreading.
Although Perl does not address ways to counteract or overcome these habits, I think the article was a fitting companion to Lad Tobin’s discussion. He does mention that Perl’s recursive take on writing, along with the more daring aspects of process pedagogy, were lost as the practice became a “regimented sequence that divided the writing process into neat stages of prewriting, writing, and revising” (11). I still think those are crucial stages—but we need to keep the recursive nature of writing in mind. I started to wonder if free-writing would be a good way initiate a type of prewriting phase, while also freeing students from the hyper-editing problem long enough for them to generate ideas. As Perl pointed out, writing led to more planning and writing. Actually, I have never been a fan of free-writing. I always hated doing it, and don’t know quite why. But as I read the Perl and Tobin articles, the theory behind practices like these started to make sense. To avoid the process pedagogy rigidity Tobin mentions, exercises like this shouldn’t be required, exactly (maybe that’s why I always hated it!), but I think it is something to promote.
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Ugh, I cannot figure out how to have my new blog topic come up on the main page. so i am "responding" to becca's post, but im really not because i am going to talk about the Building Relationships...chapter in Practice in Context. Just thought i should give the heads up and if anyone would like to help me figure this out, i would be much obliged.
Anyway...in this chapter the author discusses how he uses a cover sheet to create a dialogue between him and his students. i thought that this was a really cool idea because it would have been awesome to have a teacher spend that much time on my paper, but there is the one problem...time. i mean, it is great to say that you will write paragraphs for each student and really relate to them,but we will be working under time constraints, and i hate to sound pessimistic, but it might really hard to keep that all up. so maybe, if we/i could manage to write a lot at least two or three times a semester, maybe that would be sufficient.
I really thought it was funny how he brought up the idea of "friendly" font. I think it is crazy about how much the small stuff like that matters. i guess it is true, if a student reads intimidating lanuage and really small type then they might be more prone to anxiety attacks about their paper. but using "happy" font and understandable words would probably really help the student relax and trust the teacher...good deal.
The idea of trust is something that is starting to come up all over the place in our articles and texts. Trust is what the students must do for us, and we must risk for them. My old composition teacher wrote a book explaining about "trust and risk" and how they are the two most important terms to abide by when teaching. if we do not risk (as teachers) in the classroom by giving some of our "power" to the students then the class will not come to trust us as teachers. Crikey, i sure have responded a lot today, and sorry about that...i hope it was just all jibberish...
Pre-writing is key to all writing, at least for me. As a fiction writer, I pre-write constantly. As an idea pops into my head, I write it down immediately. If I’m in the mood the write more, I’ll keep going and see what thoughts and ideas spill out. Often, I think very little about what is going onto the page, but I continue to see where my ideas are headed. I might not know to where a story is taking off, until I’ve written a great deal – often scribbling side notes and drawing arrows, connecting paragraphs to and from other parts of the page. On occasion, I’ve become satisfied with what has been written, knowing I might not use any of it, and finish. Still, it’s a great exercise to collect and organize my thoughts to prepare for writing of a greater or more in-depth nature.
There are other times that I am in no mood to pre-write, but still have an idea that I feel is worth putting on the page. I’ll begin, and again want to see where I’m headed. After a while, with little creative juice actually sparking anything of substance, I try to push through the writing, and hope that eventually some kind of free flow will burst through. Many times, this never happens, but I force the writing out, still, as an exercise to train myself to express thoughts when I’m in no mood to do so.
I see a parallel between that last kind of pre-writing and physical exercise or competition. I like to run, and while I don’t run as many miles as I once did, I still run as often as I can. Once in a while, I’ll feel that “runner’s high,” and hit a nice groove, as with the first kind of pre-writing. More often than that, though, I feel as though it’s a fight to complete the run. I force through it, knowing in the end, I will be better off for having done so. This is like pre-writing in the second description, when there is little motivation to write, but worth doing so, to train the mind.
Another comparison, which may be more of a stretch, is playing in a football game. Sometimes, as a defensive player, I could hit a great, quick move, and avoid a blocker while pursuing the quarterback. But when the blocker would hit a great block, I’d have no other choice but to try to bull-rush through, with my head down. Pushing an offensive lineman backwards, on his feet, is no easy task, and would many times have no great result. The process, though, was necessary, to remain competitive.
Encouraging students to pre-write through the lens of competition (as a sort of push-up for the brain), may help them understand the process and why it is necessary to train the mind to write.
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