Issues of Power and Powerlessness

Issues of Power and Powerlessness

Shor, Mitchell

As I sit to work on this theme, I realize that I don’t really know what it means, or at least what it will achieve that my work with feminism and multiculturalism didn’t already accomplish. As such, I’m only going to look at Shor and Mitchell, but in a question on this topic would probably also bring in some of the people I’ve already talked about.

Ira Shor

In When Students Have Power, Shor experiments with making his classroom more democratic in an attempt to defeat the dreaded Siberian Syndrome. He allowed students to negotiate some of the course policies and how classes were conducted, and even created an after class group (ACG) of students who would tell him how he did and what he could do to serve them better. The result of the experiment seems overwhelmingly positive. Shor explained that more people than ever were invested in the course and its content simply because they had some say in how it was run. He even reached some of the students who began in Siberia; they didn’t move, but they were more engaged in the class than they probably would have been otherwise. The implications of Shor’s research are that when students have some of the power, they are more invested in the course and engaged in the content. They’ve been conditioned to sit in a subordinate position within the classroom their whole lives, but Shor gave them an opportunity to level the playing field and take control of some aspects of the classroom.

Candace Mitchell

In Writing and Power, Candace Mitchell argues that academic power lies in the ability to write in academic discourses. Students who are not given access to the genres and skills required to craft an acceptable academic essay are denied the opportunity to grow through writing, and their chances of succeeding in college and beyond are lowered. Implicit in this systemic hierarchicalization is the notion that if one does not become a good writer, it is the individual (not the institutions) who is at fault; a further implication is that failure stems from the misapplication of skills or failure to work hard enough. Such mindsets are dangerous for students (usually underprivileged or foreign) who think this way. It can cause them to drop out, thus continuing the cycle of keeping power with the few elite (usually white) who have mastered the dominant discourse. Thus, Mitchell argues that comp teachers need to reflect critically on our practices and assumptions (a la Hillocks) to ensure that we do not perpetuate a cycle of marginalization.

How I would answer a question on this theme

As I said earlier, I would incorporate Shor’s and Mitchell’s explicit notions related to power into a larger cultural discussion that could include such authors as Pratt, Hawisher and Sullivan, and Elbow. Including these three sources could lead to an interesting discussion about where power is located in the university and how the comp classroom can serve to deconstruct, decenter, redefine, or displace it.

Multiculturalism in Composition Studies

Multiculturalism in Composition Studies

Kent, Foster, Pratt, Elbow, Mitchell, Smitherman

David Foster

Post Process Theory, as Kent describes it, is based in the notion that there is generalizable writing process to which everyone could comfortably adhere. He argues that the three main assumptions behind Post Process Theory are that writing is public, interpretive, and situated, all of which suggest that each person has an individualized process that cannot be universally codified. However, David Foster is hesitant to let process theory go and embrace post-process theories, specifically a cultural critical approach. He argues that process theory enhanced the importance of schooling by naturalizing it in a framework of analytic conversation between student and teacher. Foster also argues that by leaving behind process and moving to a cultural critical pedagogy, teachers introduce a lot of unnecessary risk to the composition classroom: turning toward the social and emphasizing difference leads to unpredictable and unstable interactions, which then leads to conflict. Thus, comp studies must think carefully about the effects of dissonance and conflict on writing scenes because articulating difference is risky, stressful, and potentially painful.

Mary Louise Pratt

Pratt does not support the Process Movement, but argues for classrooms to confront difference in the way that Foster urges us to refrain from doing so. She explains that classrooms are “contact zones,” or social spaces in which cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other. Pratt points out our classrooms are potentially full of underprivileged and underrepresented students, and that we can change our classroom practice so that they can gain more of a voice in the composition classroom. She suggests that teachers should embrace the difference and incorporate nontraditional assignments (like ethnographic narratives) in order to allow cultures to deal with the tension each one has because it is different from the others. Pratt does not deny that this could potentially be risky (that students could get angry or upset as their culture clashes with another), but she urges that the pedagogical benefits are worth the risk because we will be able to produce a critically aware student body that can approach social and cultural issues in an appropriate manner.

Peter Elbow

Elbow has made many contributions to comp studies, but one of the most important ones is the notion that students should be allowed to compose initial drafts of text in what he calls their “mother tongue(s),” by which he means the dialect(s) with which the students are most comfortable (likely the one they were raised speaking with their family). This means that students could stop worrying about their writing being judged incorrect or inadequate; the classroom becomes a safe space in which they can use their own dialects freely. However, in order for this safety to continue, Elbow argues, it is imperative that students’ final drafts are in Standard Written English (SWE). In other words, they can write as many drafts as they need to in their “mother tongue,” but by the time their final draft is submitted, it must resemble an academic essay (although he admits no such thing truly exists). If students do not learn to translate their home dialects into SWE, we are doing them a grave disservice; though our classroom may be safe for the time being, the rest of the university will not be. Elbow’s notions have implications for multiculturalism because they provide a framework from which to both teach students SWE while encouraging them to maintain their “mother tongue.” He acknowledges that no one speaks SWE as their “mother tongue,” but some have had access to language that is closer to it; the ones whose “mother tongues” are vastly different from SWE need to work through a period of transition, and we should encourage and help students who need it. On the other hand, if we simply try to quash out any minority dialects, we run the risk of writers drifting toward the dominant language and losing their “mother tongues” through lack of use; therefore, we risk wiping out minority dialects. Elbow argues that such dialects will not flourish unless there are legitimized in our classrooms.

Candace Mitchell

Mitchell also grapples with the tension between students being required to write in SWE but also needing to hold onto their home discourse. She argues that we must absolutely teach them how to write in academic settings. Mitchell brings up an instance from her own experience in which she witnessed composition teachers whose only graded writing assignments were journal entries. Such assignments were valuable in that they validated the writing of (especially underprivileged) students who were able to write in whatever way seemed comfortable to them. However, she argues that relying so heavily (indeed, entirely) on a nonacademic form of writing did those students a grave disservice because they did not achieve practice in writing academic discourse. Mitchell explains that the genres of the academy hold the key to power; the students who succeed in such genres as the academic essay are the ones most likely to succeed in college and beyond. Thus, it is imperative that students learn how to write correctly in academic genres; to refrain from doing so is to deny them access to particular forms of discourse that could prove indispensable in the future. Mitchell does not think requiring underprivileged students to learn SWE is unfair or Imperialistic; she sees it merely as a tool for advancement. Indeed she appears to draw from Spivak’s answer to her own question at the end of “Can the Subaltern Speak?”: yes, but only through the dominant discourse. But Mitchelle does not believe the two (a student’s home discourse and the dominant discourse) to be mutually exclusive. Like Elbow, she encourages a classroom space where students’ home dialects are safe but where they are also learning to use translate their writing into the dominant discourse.

Geneva Smitherman

Smitherman discusses the “Students’ Right to Their Own Language,” the document that worked toward wider social legitimacy of underprivileged and foreign students’ languages and dialects and to bring about mainstream acceptance of marginalized cultures, history, and language. The goals of this document are to 1) Heighten awareness of language attitudes, 2) Promote the value of linguistic diversity, and 3) Convey facts and information about language and language variation that would help teach nontraditional students more effectively. Smitherman’s discussion goes well with Elbow’s and Mitchell’s (and really, Foster’s and Pratt’s as well) because, even though this document has been in effect since 1974, it addresses a language issue with which comp studies still struggles today.

How I would answer a question on this theme

Pretty much as I have here, except I would add one more connection among the resources. In order to enact Pratt’s contact zone classroom in a way that would not bring pain and hurt to students (as Foster fears), the teacher would need to adapt Elbow’s and Pratt’s notions about nontraditional discourses in the classroom.

Genre in Composition Studies

Mapping Genre in Comp Studies (similar-ish to Genre in Rhetoric)

Carolyn R. Miller: “Genre As Social Action”

Miller, quite simply, argues that genre is a social action – a rhetorically sound definition of genre is centered on the action it is used to accomplish because genre is typified rhetorical action. Miller’s definition is a pragmatic (not syntactic or semantic) discourse classification based in rhetorical practice; it is open rather than closed, and organized around situated actions. When constructing discourse, we deal with purpose (which is similar to Bitzer’s exigence) at several levels (we learn to adopt social motives as way of satisfying private intentions through rhetorical action) this is how recurring situations invite a particular type of discourse. This definition of genre helps us learn to understand our rhetorical situations better, and helps us understand how to participate in the actions of a community.

This is important for Comp Studies because it plays into the Social Epistemic belief that knowledge is constructed socially. It makes sense that if knowledge is constructed by social forces, that the purpose, action, and genre of writing would be social as well.

Charles Bazerman: Speech Acts, Genres, and Activity Systems: How Texts Organize Activity and People” (in, What Writing Does and How it Does it)

Bazerman makes an argument that genres are not only embedded within structured social activities, but that they also depend on previous texts the influence social activity and organization. Thus, genres are not only social action, but social actions influence which genres are selected. These genres are also antecedent – the previous genres are taken into account whenever a new text is created. Bazerman also defines genre sets (the collection of types of texts someone in a particular role is likely to produce, IE: all of the documents a teacher produces for a course) and genre systems (comprised of the several genre sets of people working together in an organized way, plus the patterned relationships in the production, flow, and use of these documents, IE: The teacher’s documents and the students’ documents working together in the classroom setting) He suggests that examining genre sets allows you to see the full range and variety of the writing work that can be required within a role (IE: all of the different documents a teacher could be expected to create), as well as identifying the genre knowledge and skills you need to accomplish that work (IE: how a teacher could craft all of those documents)

The implication for Comp Studies is that, if social actions influence which genres are chose, we must be flexible in teaching various genres to students. Teaching them a variety of genres will lead to them developing a wide array of antecedent genres from which they can draw in any given situation (Devitt argues this same point in Writing Genres).

Charles Bazerman: Shaping Written Knowledge

Bazerman is looking at how many textual elements shape written knowledge, but regarding genre he examines how genres help shape that knowledge. His work with genre is clearly inspired by Miller’s “Genre as Social action” (he even thanks her in the acknowledgements for her help). Specifically, he argues that “genre is a sociopsychological category which we use to recognize and construct typified actions within typified solutions – it is a way of creating order in the ever-fluid symbolic world.” Text and genre do not just respond to the rhetorical world – they help create it. When discussing the scientific academic community, Bazerman suggest that regularizing the writing genres and situations within specific communities can increase the likelihood of successful communication and thus knowledge creation. Only with a communally shared, reliable set of formulations will we be able to develop intelligent curricula to meet the local rhetorical needs of students entering into specific knowledge-generating communities, to frame efficient analytical procedures to allow writers to analyze their rhetorical situations and rhetorical options, and to present to other disciplines a knowledge and technology that will be of obvious use and power.

When speaking of students, he points out that each new text in a genre reinforces or remolds some aspect of the genre, so each reading of a text reshapes the social understanding of that text. However, genres should not be followed so meticulously that we must teach students cookie cutter approaches for their anticipated careers; instead, the students must understand and rethink rhetorical choices embedded in each generic habit in order to master the genre. Genre can stabilize the rhetorical situation and simplify rhetorical choices to be made, but the writer loses control of the writing when they do not understand the genre. As teachers, if we provide our students with only the formal trappings of the genres they need to work in, we offer them nothing more than unreflecting slavery to current practice and no means to ride the change that inevitably will come in the forty to fifty years they will practice their professions; we need to show students that genre is a flexible and ever-changing social phenomenon.

Since Bazerman directly addresses students, the implications here should be obvious. Since text and genre help to create the rhetorical world, genres should be regularized in order to increase the chances for successfully using the genre as well as communicating within it. But we should not drill generic formalities into students’ heads; instead, we should teach them how genre stabilizes situations and simplifies their rhetorical choices (again, Devitt would agree).

Candace Mitchell: Writing and Power

For Mitchell, genres can be the source of power. She talks about how journals can be a non-threatening, non-male-dominated form of writing that allows the free flow of feelings, thoughts, and impressions without any constraints caused by academic writing. However, it should not be the only genre of writing taught at the college level – students also need to learn how to write an essay or research paper. Mitchell argues that it is not oppressive to teach students how to reference work, seek information, and formulate critical questions in order to learn something and present this information to an audience (indeed, this is the foundation of education). Since some genres clearly “count” more than others, she argues specifically that “nonmainstream” students (read: ESL or basic writers) especially need to be taught all of the different genres of the academy. They need to understand that speaking outside of the accepted genres of one’s discipline may hold serious consequences. Denying students access to this knowledge potentially denies them possibilities for future academic and professional success (Peter Elbow argues something similar, but not in terms of genre).

Mitchell appears to be operating under an old-fashioned definition of genre as form (journals, essays, research papers, etc), not social action. Yet, she hints that genres are the result of or may even lead to action. She mentions that journals are meant for reflection and research papers are meant to create and disseminate knowledge. Though she does not say it explicitly, Mitchell would appear to implicitly support the notion of genre as action. She makes it clear that she is a linguist whose background led her to take an interest in this topic, so perhaps she does not realize that there is a distinction.

Amy J. Devitt: Writing Genres

Devitt builds upon and extends Miller’s definition of genre as a typified social action. She associates genre with recurrent situation; in other words, she expands from “rhetorical situation” to an interaction of different contexts at different levels that encompass the impact of preexisting genres as well as situation and cultural context. Most definitions of genre refer only to a genre’s situational context, but Devitt adds two more levels: culture and other genres. Culture (a shared set of material contexts and learned behaviors, values, beliefs, and templates) influences how situation is constructed and how it is seen as recurring in genres. It defines what situations and genres are possible or likely (and it is a dynamic element in constructing both; adding culture is important because it captures the way existing ideological contexts partially construct what genres are and are in turn constructed by performing genre actions. “Other genres” refers to the face that one never speaks/writes in a void; we always have access to existing genres we have encountered through experience or suggestion. The “context of genres” includes all the existing genres in that society, the individual genres and sets of genres, the relatively stagnant and the changing genres, the genres commonly used and those not used. The existence of prior genres shapes the development of new or newly learned genres. The context of situation, context of culture, and context of genres all influence the actions of writers/speakers, speakers/listeners – and they do it partly through genre.

Devitt also argues for teachers to teach contextual genres, situated within their contexts of culture, situation, and other genres. She explains that generic forms must be embedded within their social and rhetorical purposes so that rhetorical understanding can counter their urge toward following a formula. Genres must also be embedded within their social and cultural ideology so that critical awareness can counter potential ideological effects. Genres must also be taught as both constraint and choice so that individual awareness can lead to individual creativity. Devitt is arguing for teaching genre awareness, a critical consciousness of both rhetorical purpose and ideological effects of generic forms. This method of teaching will enable writers to learn newly encountered genres when they are immersed in a context for which they need those genres; students may also acquire new genres that can serve as antecedent genres for their future writing. The goals of teaching genre awareness are for students to understand the intricate connectedness between contexts and forms, to perceive potential ideological effects of genres, and to discern both constraints and choices that genres make possible. Devitt believes that to deny this knowledge of genre to students is to hide the fact the language, genre, and writing interact; she also believe that this would deny them access to a better understanding of why and what they write (similar to Mitchell).

If I had to answer a question on this theme

I would begin with Miller, since her definition of genre is key to all of the discussions of it that follow. I might connect her notion of genre as social action to the social constructionism/epistemic camp of Comp Studies, but only if I have enough time to do so. Just establishing her as the base will be enough; connecting her directly to Comp will be icing on the cake.

Next, I would bring in Bazerman and Devitt since they have similar things to say about genre. First, is Bazerman. He suggests regularizing genres so that scholars are able to work and communicate within genres more easily. He discusses the sciences in particular, but this has implications for our students as well: rather than having to learn all of the intricate quirks of several genres, regularized genres would forego some of those more specific idiosyncrasies in order to enhance the ability to utilize genres without accidentally breaking from their form (because, though genres are social they also have formal qualities, and these formal qualities can trip people up). Another point Bazerman makes, and that Devitt echoes, is the need to teach students a base of antecedent genres from which they can draw in any new rhetorical situation. But they should not just learn the formal qualities of each genre; instead, they should learn how genres both stabilize the situation and simplify the choices that students can make. In other words, genres provide both constraint and choice in order to enhance creativity. Devitt calls this critical consciousness of genre use “genre awareness” and advocates that we teach students, not just the formal qualities of genres, but that genres are socially constructed and construct our social world; thus, students will be more capable of mastering a wide array of genres, which is important since an understanding of genre is key to successfully addressing a rhetorical situation.

Finally, I would end with Mitchell, who has some interesting thoughts on genre that relate to what she calls “nonmainstream” students. She argues that journal writing can be useful sometimes (it is a non-threatening, low stakes, reflective genre with some obvious benefits for students), but that it should not be the only genre ESL students and basic writers should learn. She argues that teachers do those students a disservice by not teaching them the basic academic genres they will be expected to know later. Denying them this knowledge denies them future academic and professional success. Some of the skills she suggests students need to learn for the academic essay are referencing sources, formatting essays around an inquiry of some sort, and performing research, all of which suggest formal generic qualities. However, she also implies broader social implications involving genre. Like Bazerman, Mitchell seems to be implying that genres create the rhetorical world; without access to academic genres, “nonmainstream” students will have a much narrower view of what is rhetorically possible. But by teaching them a range of academic genres, perhaps in a way similar to Devitt’s genre awareness, students will be more likely to succeed academically and professionally because they will be able to draw on antecedent genres to meet each new rhetorical situation.

My argument? I would agree with all three. I think it’s pretty rare for writing courses to center around only journaling, as Mitchell suggests, but I do think students need access to as many genres as possible to be able to succeed both in college and in their careers beyond. For example, teaching something like a resume and cover letter in ENGL 103 constructs an antecedent genre from which students can draw when creating a LinkedIn page or perhaps a profile on eLance or some other professionally-oriented site. I’m not sure what to make of Bazerman’s call to regularize genres; I don’t entirely understand what that would look like or how it would affect Comp Studies (so I may just not bring that part of the answer up).