Kicking Students to the Curb

On Monday I had to confront one of my students about his practice of academic dishonesty. After class I asked, "Is there anything at all you want to tell me about your position paper or the rough draft of the textual analysis?" he replied with a confused eyebrow raise. I repeated, "Are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell me?" He responded, "No. I didn't cheat." I then pulled out both essays and the texts he had plagiarized from. I explained that much of his position paper was from Wikipedia (and I had the corresponding sections highlighted) and I handed him a copy of the first 1.5 pages of his textual analysis which had been taken from 123helpme.com. Confused he said, "How did you find this stuff?" and then asked me, "What does this mean?"

He sincerely didn't understand that he had plagiarized. He said, "Well, if I'd have paid for the rest of this 123helpme essay, then could I have turned it in as mine? I'd own it." He also claimed that he had not looked at Wikipedia at all when writing his position paper and that maybe the articles he used had plagiarized from Wikipedia, but he didn't know how he had the exact same words. And when I told him I couldn't pass him for the course he said, "I'm not the one who failed. 123helpme.com failed me. Why do they even put this stuff on the internet if we can't use it?"

While his responses might sound like a lot of BS, I truly think the student doesn't understand the concept of academic dishonesty and plagiarism. And if this were his first offense, I might work with him on these issues, but with the first draft and final draft of the research paper and with the first draft of the position paper, I'd already sat down in one-on-one conferences with him twice and explained citations, paraphrasing, summarizing, and plagiarism. I used his papers and his sources to point out the fact that you can't even take a few words in a row without putting quotes around them (let alone entire sentences, paragraphs, and papers). I gave him a chance to revise his research paper by the end of the term and told him I'd be glad to meet with him along the way to be sure he was understanding paraphrasing. He hasn't met with me once. Also, had already I used 2 class periods to talk about avoiding plagiarism and to allow the students to practice summarizing and paraphrasing before they wrote the research paper. Though I feel really bad that he doesn't understand how to use sources, even if he didn't mean to plagiarize (a fact about which I am uncertain), he can't pass ENG 110 without the ability to paraphrase, summarize, or at least quote his sources.

Once he understood that he truly would be flunking the class, he told me, "Thanks a lot. You've just ruined my summer. I'm going to get kicked out of my house and now I'm going to be living on the streets and sleeping under a bridge. Seriously. I can't believe this. My life is ruined. Thanks." And before he left he said, "Well, you have a good summer. ...I'm going to be sleeping under a bridge."

Now, I know I didn't ruin his life (at least I hope I didn't), but I can't help but wonder if perhaps I failed him in some way. He seems to have spent a lot of time plagiarizing, and he seems to think he was doing what he was supposed to. But I don't know whether he's telling the truth or lying through his teeth. If he is truthfully still confused about how to utilize sources, this seems like a result of my inability to explain the concepts. But at what point does responsibility fall upon the students? I don't know.

Reflection on the 8am Teaching Slot

Because I am a fairly laid back person who tends to sleep in when she has the chance and nearly always wastes time when she has any time to waste, I requested an 8am teaching slot this term. I had heard horror stories about how difficult 8am classes were to teach, but I figured that if my schedule forced me to get out of bed and use my mornings wisely, I wouldn't waste time. As it turns out, 8am classes are incredibly challenging (and I still find time to waste later in the day to make up for the time I didn't waste in the morning).

Last term I had a few people missing each class period, but all in all, the classes felt like an actual "unit." The students got to know each other, I got to know them, and I felt like we made some real progress. Each of my afternoon classes last term had their own "character" and some (not all) of the students actually seemed to enjoy being there.

This semester, most of the semester I've had nearly perfect attendance in my 10 am class. But from week 2 or 3 at least half of my 8am class has been absent every class period. I've only got 2-4 faithful students who I can count on to attend on a regular basis. The rest of the class rotates. I've emailed several students and asked them to come back. I've sent out e-mails to the entire class reminding them how important attendance is to their grades. Yet, I haven't had more than 10 people in class since probably a fourth of the way through the term. A few students even show up only on days when rough drafts or final drafts are due.

This attendance issue makes developing a safe house and an overall classroom atmosphere quite difficult. What's more frustrating, though, is that it makes teaching incredibly difficult. I never know who will be in class for what lesson, and then when subsequent lessons or activities are built on earlier lessons or activities, they tend to fall flat or be less effective than intended because none of the students (save those 2-4) had been there for the earlier lessons.

And now I'm receiving an influx of e-mails offering explanations (perhaps legitimate ones, perhaps not) as to why individuals have not been in class since before spring break or asking if I can still work with them if they start coming back to class now or begging for me to e-mail them all of the handouts and assignments so they can just turn everything in at the final. And I have to say, it's getting more than a little annoying.

I'd say I'm probably going to end up failing about half of the 8am bunch, and to be honest, I don't feel all that bad about it. If they had attended class, they wouldn't be failing. If they had contacted me before 2 weeks before finals to ask me to work with them in the face of difficult health or family situations, I would have worked with them. But they didn't. They rolled over in bed, turned off their alarms, and told themselves they would go to ENG 110 next time.

From now on, I think I will work an attendance policy into my syllabus. I think it would benefit the students and the class as a whole.

Writing What We Teach

For the writing what we teach assignment, I chose to analyze MLK Jr's "Letter from Birmingham Jail" because I knew that my students would be reading it when we worked on the position paper and would therefore be familiar with the text when we came to the textual analysis unit.

I focused on King's appeal to audience in my textual analysis, so during the position paper unit, after I had taught the concepts of pathos, ethos, and logos, I broke the class into three groups and asked each group to look for their assigned classical appeals in King's essay. The next class period we analyzed the text, each group listing textual examples and explaining how King made use of appeals. I felt that having the unknowingly do a textual analysis as a class before we began the textual analysis unit would help them understand the process later.

On the second day of the textual analysis unit, after I had gone through the "basics" of textual analysis the class period before, I explained that what we had done with "Letter from Birmingham Jail" was an example of textual analysis. I then showed them the portion of my drafting process in which I had made bulleted lists of textual support for pathos, ethos, and logos in King's essay, explaining that they had done the same thing a few weeks ago. I then passed out a copy of my final draft as a sample paper for them and gave them a peer review type sheet and had them analyze the essay. When they were done, we discussed as a class the judgment, criteria, textual support, and analysis in my sample.

I'm not sure how incredibly well the assignment went over. While I think the activity I did in the position paper unit was really good, I feel that they were bored with the worksheet. I think that a student sample would have been better because my analysis was a bit more complex than perhaps they are ready to do.

In the future, I would consider trying this assignment again, but I may try to make my textual analysis a little more "basic." Or perhaps I would just use an overhead transparency to explain my process and then point out the judgment, criteria, etc. Also, I would probably do a "writing what we teach" type of activity earlier in the term (as most did with their textual analysis) when I was still focusing on revision. At this point in the semester, I feel as though I've already covered revision pretty heavily.

All in all, I think the Writing What We Teach Assignment was beneficial because it enabled my to empathize with my students and to clarify a workable process to suggest to them in doing their own textual analysis.

Blog Prompted for 4-21-08.

The way I responded to this situation would depend on how clear I thought I'd been in stipulating what needed to be included in the assignment, whether the weather had been bad prompting low attendance, and whether over the course of the term my students had shown that if they understood the assignments, they would fulfill the requirements.

In most any case I would probably tell the students that their assignments would be considered late until they provided me with the missing components. And I would go ahead and deduct the 10 pts per late day until their packet was complete (and let them know I would do this). To not do this would be to allow them to miss out on the learning involved in completing all parts of the assignment and to encourage them to think following directions unimportant and to take advantage of me in future assignments.

However, if a lot of people had missed because of weather or if I felt the assignment were unclear or had only included the instructions in the syllabus and had not reminded the class of the stipulations before the essays were due, I would probably tell them they needed to have their packets completed by the next class period or I would start deducting late points until it was.

In the end, my decision would probably depend on the "character" of the given class and the attitudes of the people in it.

My Baby Isn't Ugly. You Are.

On Friday when I went into the English office at 7:30am to print copies of the handouts and reading activity I had prepared on logical fallacies, the good ol' printer wouldn't work. Again. The screen told me to reboot, but the sign under the power switch said, "Do Not Turn Off Printer Here!" And seeing as how the sign was hand-written, likely by a secretary, and employed the use of an exclamation point (one of only a few that secretary is allotted for her lifetime), I left the office without my activity. Needless to say, I had to come up with another lesson plan on the spot. Rather panicked, and a lot annoyed, I decided to do an impromptu debate.

To be honest, I've heard several GA's talk about having classroom debate-like discussions about various topics (including the similarities between turkey farming and baseball, was it?), but I've always been a bit hesitant to try to plan a whole class period around debate or discussion of just one issue. I think this is because I don't trust my students to hold up their end of the bargain. Nor do I trust myself to be able to pull something out of nowhere to keep the class going if the students don't participate. As it turns out, though, both of the classes went extremely well, and the students were quite willing to enthusiastically hold up their end of the bargain.

In each class I suggested a few debate topics and let them choose; gave them a few minutes to brainstorm their opinions individually; split them up into groups, in which they discussed their arguments and anticipated counter arguments; then let the teams debate back and forth. Once I prompted the first team to provide an argument, I did nothing. It was really quite nice.

The first class debated whether everyone 14 and older convicted of crimes should be tried as adults. The debate started out as a polarized issue, but by the time it was over, the two sides were suggesting middle-ground arguments, stipulating conditions, and suggesting reform. Amazingly, the debate lent itself to a "teaching moment" when I was able to point out to the students that just as they had created non-polar positions in the debate, when they write their position papers, they need to consider that not all issues consist only of polarized positions. They seemed to understand better through the debate what I meant when I had earlier talked about taking positions that involved stipulations, conditions, or solutions rather than just "pro" or "con."

My second class was interesting for different reasons. This class would not choose a debate topic, so I quite naively suggested the topic "English 110 should/should not be required of all MSU students." The class was pretty evenly divided on the issue, and each side made excellent points. Unfortunately, though, the "against" side had more outspoken personalities and better debaters.

They said things like, "If the university really valued this class and saw a need for it, they would have 'real' teachers teaching it, not GAs (no offense to you Miss Beary)." and "Yeah, they're banking on ENG 110: pay the GAs next to nothing, and make all the students take the class. Money in their pockets." And "We already learned MLA and how to write in high school. This class just tests our ability to write too many papers in too little time."

While the "pro ENG 110" side had some good responses, it took everything inside of me to keep my mouth shut. I sat there on the desk feeling rather insulted and rather attacked. Before they started the debate I knew they would say all of those things, but I guess I didn't realize how difficult a time I would have not responding. When one of my students said, "Every single one of us on 'this side' already knows how to write papers without the teachers help," I wanted so badly to say, "And is that why most of you would have issues with comma splices, fragments, organization, audience awareness, and critical reasoning, eh?" But I didn't because, well, that just wouldn't be nice (or teacherly).

Later that night when I talked to a friend who has been teaching for several years and told her about assigning the debate prompt in my second class, she laughed and said, "And I'll bet the slaughtered you, huh? My classes slaughtered me too when I assigned that as a writing prompt. What's always surprising is the way we react internally. Isn't having your discipline, especially your class, criticized a little like somebody telling you your baby's ugly?" She's right. It is. She also pointed out that I had made a head nod to Marxism with that debate. And I guess I had.

All in all, I think Friday's classes rank among the best two or three class periods of the semester. Interesting how sometimes things we haven't planned go better than lessons we spend hours on. Perhaps in this case it is because I had to rely on the students and couldn't underestimate them.

Get in the Zone, Contact Zone

Recently I have heard (and participated in) discussions in two of my graduate courses about critical pedagogy, liberation pedagogy (which some categorize within critical pedagogy), and some about contact zones (which probably also fits within the scheme of critical pedagogy and/or postmodern pedagogy).

In a discussion of critical pedagogy, the professor suggested that when applied in a writing classroom, the theory can be intrusive on students. He questioned what critical theorists, particularly Marxists, would think of an instructor coming in and putting equal emphasis on maintaining the status quo or on principles in direct contrast to those critical theorists believe to be true. Of course, a classmate responded that no instruction is neutral and that by not addressing the issues, we reinforce the status quo. The student then suggested that whether or not the "indoctrination" is intended does not matter, basically implying that critical theorists should have at it because influencing our students towards our own views is inevitable.

I can concur with my classmate that no language act is neutral; the very nature of communication is to convey meaning and all meaning is based--even if in an indirect way--on some ideology or worldview. We all inevitably interpret reality through the lens of our worldviews, and as teachers, we cannot accomplish complete neutrality in the classroom.

That said, I have to ask: Where do we draw the line? In my opinion, any intentional attempt made on the part of an instructor to bring the students around to his/her own point of view about an issue (not grammar, punctuation, etc.--I think there are correct and incorrect ways of writing insofar as basic rules are concerned) is an attempt to change the student's worldview. And, of course, this is fine as long as the issues are obvious: racial slurs and sexist attitudes, obviously unacceptable. But what happens when the lines are not so clearly drawn?

One classmate in a discussion of contact zones suggested that he challenges his students to support their points, but he makes sure their points have valid support and he doesn't have room for the student whose support is not valid (and this seems reasonable and worthwhile to me). Another classmate mumbled, "Like because my morals tell me so." So I would ask: what makes an argument valid? I know plenty of well educated, logical folks who believe that morality and faith are within the realms of reason and logic just as strongly as those who believe them to have no place in defending or asserting a position.

Based on my own experiences working in another institution, and in my experiences at MSU, the predominant view seems to be (though I admit that I may be wrong about this) that moral arguments hold no grounding and that faith and reason don't mix. Several instructors have reported making such statements to their students. I've concluded, then, that it is politically correct to try to persuade students (perhaps only if the topic comes up based on paper content, not as a direct aim of the class) to view moral and faith issues as subjective, constructed "truths," not academic, not logical. And such an approach is not looked down upon in academia.

But I would ask this question: Would it be looked down upon for instructors to try to persuade their students (even if only when the topic came up based on paper content) that moral issues and faith issues are not subjective, that these are not relative, constructed, "emotional," or "feeling" realms, but the realms of logic and reason and that it is necessary to address such issues if their points of view were to be adequately supported in a way deserving of a good grade? I think most would agree that such an attempt on the part of an instructor could be considered a violation of Church and State.

I guess I am just bothered by the fact that intentionally influencing students towards worldviews which directly undermine religious belief and religious reason (be the religion Christian or Bokononism or Buddhism or whatever) by promoting reasoning based on relativism or scientism is acceptable. It seems to me that postmodernism, scientism, scientific humanism, and the like are just as much totalizing systems of thought as are those worldviews more traditionally termed "religions." The only difference is that in the former worldvies, "God" is something besides the traditional universal spirit or Other.

To an extent, liberatory and critical pedagogy appeal to me. I like the idea of providing students readings to create contact zones in which they question the accepted norms of society or government--and perhaps even their worldviews--on issues that are more or less "black and white." And, of course, the grey areas are easy to steer clear of if we are careful to avoid them. But who defines black and white? My black may be your white, your white my black.

If our goal is to simply let the students question, let them come into contact with one another's cultures, and we are providing them equally persuasive arguments on both sides of a particular issue, I suppose cultural pedagogy and/or liberatory pedagogy can work. But if the true goal is to bring students around (be it through ever so overt or ever so discrete methods) to the instructor's point of view about fundamental worldview issues such as the nature of truth and reason, I'm not sure I can buy into this method. (In a way, I would love to, but I'm not sure it would be ethical.)

Just a Spoonful of Sugar

Sometimes I get the feeling that our students have come from a background in which teachers have been so eager to make classroom content relevant, interactional, and fun that they've forgotten to give their students any medicine with their spoonfuls of sugar. And so I've got these students sitting in my classroom, staring at me, expecting sugar. They want games. They want entertainment. They want candy coated writing lessons. Everything should be fun and entertaining.

All hyped up on sugar, they have no attention span. Once they recognize that any portion of the lesson is going to be sugar-free medicine, they're gone. Their eyes start to glaze over or close. Doodling ensues. Is it so much to ask that out of a 50 minute class period they willingly listen, take notes, and respond for 10-15 minutes of it? Are they so used to manipulatives and small group activities that they can't see they can't sit and listen for a few minutes?

I'm all for trying to incorporate creativity in the classroom. I'm all for collaboration and student input. I might even be able to see the value of using manipulatives now and again. But I do not think that our students are incapable of sitting and listening to a lecture and making an actual effort to pay attention. I know that "lectures" do not fit as well into a writing classroom as in, say, a literature classroom, but there are times when we need to take them through some basics of MLA or give them some content to work with before splitting them into groups or starting an activity.

Many of our students seem to be suffering from a media-induced, education-induced, sugar-induced unwillingness or inability to process information that doesn't involve fun and games. And I think our fear of lecturing and fear of boring our students and our constant need to keep them entertained feeds into their appetites. I don't think it harms our students any to have to set aside their sugar addictions for a few minutes and swallow a little medicine.

Narrative Nightmare

Last semester my students had a great deal of trouble moving from the memoir assignment to the textual analysis. In fact, at the end of the term when I asked them pointed questions about course content and instruction, nearly every single student (even the more advanced ones) commented that the textual analysis was incredibly difficult for them and that they wished they had more time for it. And I knew this, but I was still surprised considering that I had made them write a full blown research paper and had made over half the class rewrite their research papers when they slaughtered MLA conventions. Even despite the major troubles so many of them had with MLA, they thought the textual analysis (which very few had to rework) was the most difficult.

In response to their feedback, I decided to put the textual analysis at the end of the semester. I decided to teach papers in this order: Memoir, Extended Definition, Research Paper(with an annotated bib along the way), Position Paper, Textual Analysis. My hope was that emphasis on style in the memoir, on critical thinking and importance of context to word meanings in the extended definition, on reliable sources and strong support in the research paper, and on effective argumentation in the position paper would all (trumpets sound) give the student a better background and repertoire by which to analyze texts.

As it turns out, these students seem to be struggling just as much with the extended definition essay as the others did with the textual analysis. And I do understand the inherent difficulties in writing a definition paper; it does take some critical thought. However, I would think that as I allow them to draw from personal experience and ask them to base their definition on personal opinion and perceptions, they would have an easier time than, say, having to analyze somebody elses writing--which takes not only critical thinking, but also critical reading skills.

I have come up with a few possible explanations for their struggles. 1) They're not all that bright. 2) I'm not all that bright. 3) It's only a bad dream; I'll wake up in a few minutes. 4) The extended definition paper is just as difficult as the textual analysis, but for different reasons. 5) Transitioning from narrative writing to more thesis based writing is not easy. Though I'd like to think reasons 1 or 3 provide my answers. I'm leaning towards 2, 4, and 5.

I think I've settled on 5: the narrative transition dilemma. In distinguishing between reader based and writer based prose, Linda Flower suggests that the unwillingness or inability of students to move away from narrative structures is a key indicator of writer based prose. Rather than keeping audiences in mind and offering well ordered arguments, writer based prose is often characterized by a sort of stream-of-consciousness rant rather than logically grouped ideas. It seems possible, then, that by starting with the narrative based assignment we are reinforcing habits of writer based prose. Sure, there is a lot about their memoirs that is quite audience based, but the narrative component, according to Flower, is writer based. Perhaps it isn't the extended definition essay or the textual analysis that is giving them trouble so much as it is the transition from narrative structure to a very different structure: moving from writer to reader based prose.

Hmmm....If I teach ENG 110 again, maybe I'll put the memoir later in the semester just to avoid mixed messages about writer and reader based prose at the beginning of the semester.

Textuality

A teacher friend of mine sent me "home" to Missouri with several textbooks (well, only 3) which she thought would be useful in my teaching of the definition paper. (I decided to teach this with the hopes that it will promote critical thinking, help prepare them for the textual analysis, and bring them oodles of writing enjoyment). Already this semester, I have found that these texts are valuable resources for information and examples about prewriting, paragraph development, introductions and conclusions, outlining, organization, thesis, narrative writing...and definition writing.

All of that is to say, though I enjoy the readings in the Lunsford text, it seems that a textbook offering professional writing, student writing, and some basic writing "instructions" and background on types of writing would be more useful for both teacher and student. For people who have been teaching for some time, using a book like Lunsford "just" as a source for supplementary readings likely works fine. However, I think that with most of MSUs ENG 110 courses being taught each year by first time teachers, a textbook with more (and better) explanations of the basics of writing and of critical thinking would be of use.

Of course we all have internalized the "basics" of writing and critical thinking, but sometimes when making a lesson plan the day or night before class when we're trying to finish an assignment for one of the classes we're taking, it would be helpful to have an ENG 110 textbook which discusses writing strategies a bit more. (I know that Hacker offers some strategies for writing, but overall, I find that textbook more useful as a punctuation/mechanics and MLA reference book for students).

The text that I am particularly impressed with is called Steps to Writing Well. It has sections on prewriting, thesis statements, paragraph development, drafting and revising, effective sentences, word logic, critical reading, exposition, argumentation, description, narration, research writing, writing in-class exams, writing about literature, writing about film, writing in the world of work, and grammar, punctuation and mechanics. For each chapter about types and genres of writing it includes strategies for writing and both student and professional examples of the kinds of writing/papers described in that chapter. Also, there are additional professional readings in the back which include not only professional samples of the various modes discussed in the book, but also essays for further analysis by MLK Jr, Peter Fish, and Alice Walker, literature for analysis by Aurora Morales, Percy Shelley, and Steven Crane, and essays on writing and language by Gretel Ehrlich, Lewis Thomas, and Amy Tan.

I know this particular book may not work because of the types of papers we have our students write, but something with these sorts of resources might be a good pick. We could always find our own supplemental readings if needed.

Celebrating Mediocrity?

Recently discussions in another course have given me pause as I consider my teaching philosophy and methods. Talk of emphasizing the students' self worth to improve their writing, of not criticizing their work so as to protect their fragile self esteem, of not recognizing (or at least not admitting) any variation in writing ability among students, of not having standards, of calling "inexperience" "need of practice" and "failing" "not passing" seems to me to lend to a celebration of mediocrity.

Obviously, we must always keep students in consideration when grading their papers and adjust our comments accordingly. We must be kind to them and respectful of them, addressing them in a way that we would like to be addressed and treating them as fellow writers, scholars, human beings. I feel that by addressing students' failures, oversights, mistakes, illogical thinking, or gasp, incorrect grammar we show them respect. It seems patronizing to me to assume that the student is too fragile for constructive criticism or too inept to learn to address both higher and lower order concerns simultaneously. It seems that students often know when they have written poorly, and when they don't realize there are problems in their writing, it is our job to help them identify their deficiencies and to help them fill in their gaps.

In my estimation, self-esteem and self-worth cannot be endowed upon students; students have to develop this for themselves. Perhaps this development of self-worth comes not from undeserving praise on a paper, ignoring problems, or refusing to call problems and deficiencies problems and deficiencies (though we should be able to find some element which we can comment positively about in every paper), but rather from constructive criticism and encouragement that lead to improvement and a sense of accomplishment. Comments which point out problems in the writing do not have to tear students down; there are ways to show them that you value them as human beings, students, writers without giving them a false vision of where they are in their development as writers.

I know that I am working under the assumptions that there are standards, that there are good and bad writers (though I don't use these terms in such a way so as to suggest that a person cannot move from being a bad writer to being a better, good, or even excellent writer), and that recognizing lack, problems, even failures is not necessarily wholey harmful. I cannot accept that there are no standards (although I can accept that these standards may be deeply internalized and difficult to "nail down"). If there are no standards, then what are our classes about? Why does Introduction to College Writing exist? Why are we in graduate school studying composition? Why are we teaching it? How can we grade writing?