I'm doing observations for my education class and during my last observation there was a period of boredom while students were quietly working on a worksheet. I took this opportunity to look at the textbook they had been using in the classroom, so here are my notes:
The book is Adventures in American Literature, Pegasus Edition. It is broken up into time periods and literary movements. At the end of the book, in Modern Nonfiction, there is an essay from James Baldwin on "The Creative Process" and William Faulkner's Nobel Prize acceptance speech. The end of the nonfiction pieces feature study and discussion questions, as well as prompts for further research. Also, at the end of the book is a section titled "Reading and Writing about Literature." The first objective of this section is for the student to "develop skills in critical thinking." The students are guided through a close reading with the story "A Game of Catch" by Richard Wilbur. Following this is a piece titled "Guidelines for Reading a Short Story." There is also a guided close reading of a poem by Elinor Wylie with "guidelines for reading a poem." The same occurs with a play. After all of this is a section called "Writing about Literature: The Writing Process." The section seems to be geared towards answering exam questions and answering an essay question. Evaluating and revising papers are also covered here. (Just looked on Amazon.com to get an image...the text is from 1989! Can't get an image...you can find it here: http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/0153348542.01._BO2,204,203 )
So there it is. It's not much, but I was thinking of this class as I was looking over the book and I didn't put these notes in my paper, so I thought I'd just go ahead and post them here. I also thought it would be interesting to see an actual textbook that is actually being used in a school this semester. The school is Dulaney High School in Timonium.
P.S. I have an inner ear infection that has given me severe vertigo. I am officially Liza Minnelli on "Arrested Development."
Love,
Lucille 2
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Pomo Blues w/ a splash of nonfat, zing of honey, and no lid
It's so depressing to sit down to the computer again. For some reason, I thought I already responded to this, but I then realized that I was rereading my blog about Connors, not Carroll. Hup, two, three, four:
Carroll: Man, I hate to talk about postmodernism when it's been so nice outside, but I suppose it must be done. The fact that all writing assignments can be placed under a handful of categories is a little disheartening, but pretty accurate. I was sort of agreeing with Carroll all along until the story about Alex and the "true meaning of Christmas" came up. She presents Alex's two versions of the story and then says "neither version of Alex's story is necessarily more authentic" (922). Yeah, I guess, but if Alex volunteers that the "mood" the one narrative contains is closer to his actual feelings of the event, isn't that one more authentic? Was it Runciman that pointed out the pleasure one gets from finding exactly accurate phrasing to say what one wanted to say? Doesn't that make that particular piece (or at least sentence) more authentic than other ways of saying it would be? Obviously, there is a problem with what is "authentic writing." I forget what Shipka was reading in class the one time, but it was something about judging good writing and that it was based on how "honest" the writer was. I mean, that's a doozy, right? How is that something that can be either slated "yes, honest" or "no, complete bull crap"? Sorry, moving on...
Aha, here we go: "the best essay is not the 'truest'; it is the one that rings most true for the readers" (924). Okay, so there we encounter another problem with authenticity...the reader's perspective. Holy Geez, Pomo is such a headache sometimes.
Overall, I thought the essay was well done in it's application of postmodernism onto freshman composition writing assignments. The student yelling "IT'S ALL TRUE!" at the end of the piece seemed like an easy out to me, but I suppose she was right. Also, it's pretty appropriate in keeping with the theme of postmodernism being something that everyone can be blamed for, but no one can help.
Carroll: Man, I hate to talk about postmodernism when it's been so nice outside, but I suppose it must be done. The fact that all writing assignments can be placed under a handful of categories is a little disheartening, but pretty accurate. I was sort of agreeing with Carroll all along until the story about Alex and the "true meaning of Christmas" came up. She presents Alex's two versions of the story and then says "neither version of Alex's story is necessarily more authentic" (922). Yeah, I guess, but if Alex volunteers that the "mood" the one narrative contains is closer to his actual feelings of the event, isn't that one more authentic? Was it Runciman that pointed out the pleasure one gets from finding exactly accurate phrasing to say what one wanted to say? Doesn't that make that particular piece (or at least sentence) more authentic than other ways of saying it would be? Obviously, there is a problem with what is "authentic writing." I forget what Shipka was reading in class the one time, but it was something about judging good writing and that it was based on how "honest" the writer was. I mean, that's a doozy, right? How is that something that can be either slated "yes, honest" or "no, complete bull crap"? Sorry, moving on...
Aha, here we go: "the best essay is not the 'truest'; it is the one that rings most true for the readers" (924). Okay, so there we encounter another problem with authenticity...the reader's perspective. Holy Geez, Pomo is such a headache sometimes.
Overall, I thought the essay was well done in it's application of postmodernism onto freshman composition writing assignments. The student yelling "IT'S ALL TRUE!" at the end of the piece seemed like an easy out to me, but I suppose she was right. Also, it's pretty appropriate in keeping with the theme of postmodernism being something that everyone can be blamed for, but no one can help.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The Jumping Dog and the Room Full of Clowns
I'm pet/housesitting for a few of my cousins while they're in Florida this week. You know what just occured to me? I don't know if I'm getting paid for these gigs. Oh man, I better be.
Alright, so today was the first day of my "checking in" on Mr. Peabody, my cousin's very small, very jumpy dog. I went after work tonight (around 9:30 p.m.) and was greeted by what appeared to be the Olympian high-jumping dog of the century. Right away, I took Peabody out which was kind of a treat because my cousins live in a development with lighted sidewalks and neatly paved streets. This is a stark contrast from my curvy wurvy road that leads to my family's giant hill, complete with barn (thankyouverymuch). Right, so I'm walking. Peabody's walking. We're having a grand ol' time. He does his busin-nasty and I clean it up. Homewards we go.
Clearly, I must feed this dog. I find the note my cousin Christy leaves on the counter for me, detailing the rigorous procedure I must follow in order to adhere to Mr. Peabody's needs. The note says brilliant and enlightened things like "Food in food dish." and "Give him water." Amazed at my cousin's innovative approaches to canine caretaking, I wander around the house to look for the aforementioned food dish. I can't find it. I even call my mother (who literally hasn't been able to walk for weeks due to some horrible knee problems. Needless to say that she hasn't been over their house in quite some time) to see if maybe she has any insight at all as to the location of Mr. Peabody's shite (not literally shite...I saw where that was. Outside, thank Jesus). You can all guess that my mother had no idea. Correct assumption, folks.
I should probably mention this before I go any further...I have a phobia. I have no problems with bugs, snakes, mice, or closed-in spaces. I am afraid of clowns. DEATHLY afraid of them. There is no logic to it, really no reason at all. Bottom line is that even as I typed the "c" word (twice!), my stomach did a dip. Shudder. Okay, on with the story:
At this point, I'm thinking Peabody's food and water could be anywhere. Christy told me that he likes to sleep in her room, so I thought it would make sense if she kept his stuff in there. The room was completely dark and I remembered that Christy told me to turn on her light by the lamp on her dresser (across the room) and not the lightswitch on the wall. Easy enough.
For all of my bright ideas and helpful memories of Christy's room and Peabody's sleeping preferences, I forgot the one thing that I have known about my cousin since childhood. THE WOMAN VOLUNTARILY COLLECTS CLOWN FIGURINES.
I want you all to take a moment and think about my thumb and forefinger clicking on that lamp. Okay, you can now visualize all of the blood draining out of my face and my inability to move my entire body.
They were everywhere!! On her bed, on her dresser, on her television, on her side table, on the clock, knitted on a throw pillow...and God knows where else. Because once my fear subsided enough for me to regain standing consciousness, I got the Unholy Hell out of Dodge.
Here's the best (or most ironic) part: I was supposed to sleep there, you know, as a part of the housesitting perks. Christy told me she put new sheets on her bed for me. Looks like she's going to have fresh sheets when she gets home because I'm safe in my office at home now. She's out of her Goddamn mind if she thinks I'm sleeping within a three-mile radius of that house.
So, where were the dishes for the dog? About three feet away from Christy's note, under the kitchen table. I'm an idiot.
Alright, so today was the first day of my "checking in" on Mr. Peabody, my cousin's very small, very jumpy dog. I went after work tonight (around 9:30 p.m.) and was greeted by what appeared to be the Olympian high-jumping dog of the century. Right away, I took Peabody out which was kind of a treat because my cousins live in a development with lighted sidewalks and neatly paved streets. This is a stark contrast from my curvy wurvy road that leads to my family's giant hill, complete with barn (thankyouverymuch). Right, so I'm walking. Peabody's walking. We're having a grand ol' time. He does his busin-nasty and I clean it up. Homewards we go.
Clearly, I must feed this dog. I find the note my cousin Christy leaves on the counter for me, detailing the rigorous procedure I must follow in order to adhere to Mr. Peabody's needs. The note says brilliant and enlightened things like "Food in food dish." and "Give him water." Amazed at my cousin's innovative approaches to canine caretaking, I wander around the house to look for the aforementioned food dish. I can't find it. I even call my mother (who literally hasn't been able to walk for weeks due to some horrible knee problems. Needless to say that she hasn't been over their house in quite some time) to see if maybe she has any insight at all as to the location of Mr. Peabody's shite (not literally shite...I saw where that was. Outside, thank Jesus). You can all guess that my mother had no idea. Correct assumption, folks.
I should probably mention this before I go any further...I have a phobia. I have no problems with bugs, snakes, mice, or closed-in spaces. I am afraid of clowns. DEATHLY afraid of them. There is no logic to it, really no reason at all. Bottom line is that even as I typed the "c" word (twice!), my stomach did a dip. Shudder. Okay, on with the story:
At this point, I'm thinking Peabody's food and water could be anywhere. Christy told me that he likes to sleep in her room, so I thought it would make sense if she kept his stuff in there. The room was completely dark and I remembered that Christy told me to turn on her light by the lamp on her dresser (across the room) and not the lightswitch on the wall. Easy enough.
For all of my bright ideas and helpful memories of Christy's room and Peabody's sleeping preferences, I forgot the one thing that I have known about my cousin since childhood. THE WOMAN VOLUNTARILY COLLECTS CLOWN FIGURINES.
I want you all to take a moment and think about my thumb and forefinger clicking on that lamp. Okay, you can now visualize all of the blood draining out of my face and my inability to move my entire body.
They were everywhere!! On her bed, on her dresser, on her television, on her side table, on the clock, knitted on a throw pillow...and God knows where else. Because once my fear subsided enough for me to regain standing consciousness, I got the Unholy Hell out of Dodge.
Here's the best (or most ironic) part: I was supposed to sleep there, you know, as a part of the housesitting perks. Christy told me she put new sheets on her bed for me. Looks like she's going to have fresh sheets when she gets home because I'm safe in my office at home now. She's out of her Goddamn mind if she thinks I'm sleeping within a three-mile radius of that house.
So, where were the dishes for the dog? About three feet away from Christy's note, under the kitchen table. I'm an idiot.
Monday, March 12, 2007
I'm Bridwell-Bowles[ed] over. (Someone stop me with these titles...please)
Bridwell-Bowles: I cannot stress how much I liked this reading. I think I may be getting into a good frame of mind for this class now...I hope I'm not psyching myself out.
Right, well. I'll admit that I'm that student who is afraid to go outside of conventionality when it comes to writing "academic" papers. For the record, this class has made me feel like I have to put everything in quotation marks - as if what I'm saying may not really mean what I want it to mean (such as "creative" or "voice"). I don't know if I can respond to this reading in any short manner (and I want to be short because I want to get to bed). I highlighted/underlined a lot of stuff. A lot of gems to be found in this reading, comrades!
Funny - Donald Murray came up again. Fancy that. Here's what Bridwell-Bowles has to say about him: "he argues for a distinction between 'academic voice' and 'personal voice.' They are clearly separate for him" (351). Chaka what now?? Um, isn't this the bloke that said ALL WRITING IS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. ALLLLLL WRITING! I don't know what to think.
What else? Oh, I liked Gearhart's comments about writing being like a "matrix" instead of an assault via argumentation. Incorporating, presenting, questioning, connecting...webby and good. I agreed with Carolyn Heibrun's assertion that "most women's stories about themselves are facades...artifices built of what the culture expects of them, including acquired modesty and humility" (356). That might be able to be stated for anyone of a status or social category that doesn't neatly fit within the public discourse. No one wants to be essentialized as whatever boxes they check off on their legal forms (gender, class, marital status, race, age, etc.) I don't think many people want to be a token for whatever category society has decided to put them in. This is evidenced by Bridwell-Bowles' section on "Sexual Orientation" where she says, "The topic is not safe enough obviously; while gay and lesbian students in my classes have written about the connection between their sexual orientation and their writing, they chose not to give me permission to include samples of their writing in this essay" (360). I thought about maybe why that is. Is it because they feel like they will be held apart as "the voice of the lesbian essayist" or something similar? It's the whole identity thing. Sometimes it's just easier to write "academically" or at least attempting some level of objectivity, even if only because it makes your personal choices/circumstances more anonymous. It's sad, but I can understand why people would prefer their papers to be read that way.
Blaaah. I think I'm going to add more to this later, but right now I'm tired and should get to bed because I've consumed 2 Yuenglings and will get approximately 5 hours of sleep. If I go now. No...now. NOW.
Right, well. I'll admit that I'm that student who is afraid to go outside of conventionality when it comes to writing "academic" papers. For the record, this class has made me feel like I have to put everything in quotation marks - as if what I'm saying may not really mean what I want it to mean (such as "creative" or "voice"). I don't know if I can respond to this reading in any short manner (and I want to be short because I want to get to bed). I highlighted/underlined a lot of stuff. A lot of gems to be found in this reading, comrades!
Funny - Donald Murray came up again. Fancy that. Here's what Bridwell-Bowles has to say about him: "he argues for a distinction between 'academic voice' and 'personal voice.' They are clearly separate for him" (351). Chaka what now?? Um, isn't this the bloke that said ALL WRITING IS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. ALLLLLL WRITING! I don't know what to think.
What else? Oh, I liked Gearhart's comments about writing being like a "matrix" instead of an assault via argumentation. Incorporating, presenting, questioning, connecting...webby and good. I agreed with Carolyn Heibrun's assertion that "most women's stories about themselves are facades...artifices built of what the culture expects of them, including acquired modesty and humility" (356). That might be able to be stated for anyone of a status or social category that doesn't neatly fit within the public discourse. No one wants to be essentialized as whatever boxes they check off on their legal forms (gender, class, marital status, race, age, etc.) I don't think many people want to be a token for whatever category society has decided to put them in. This is evidenced by Bridwell-Bowles' section on "Sexual Orientation" where she says, "The topic is not safe enough obviously; while gay and lesbian students in my classes have written about the connection between their sexual orientation and their writing, they chose not to give me permission to include samples of their writing in this essay" (360). I thought about maybe why that is. Is it because they feel like they will be held apart as "the voice of the lesbian essayist" or something similar? It's the whole identity thing. Sometimes it's just easier to write "academically" or at least attempting some level of objectivity, even if only because it makes your personal choices/circumstances more anonymous. It's sad, but I can understand why people would prefer their papers to be read that way.
Blaaah. I think I'm going to add more to this later, but right now I'm tired and should get to bed because I've consumed 2 Yuenglings and will get approximately 5 hours of sleep. If I go now. No...now. NOW.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Personal Writing Assignments Response
Connors: The historical outline before the meat of Connors essay helped me out a lot. It was a good review for me, especially since I've been having trouble with these readings and the practice of teaching composition as a whole. Knowing where we've come from (in the most ancient sense) really gives me an idea of where we're going.
The "novelty" portion of Connors' address to personalism stuck out the most to me. Maybe that's what separates personal writing from academic writing, if any separation can be made at all. I don't know, I guess you can write for an academic purpose and make it new, at the same time. Hm, debatable.
It seems like we established in class the fact that there is no clear distinction to be made between the personal and the academic in writing. Writing can be glaringly one or the other, but will always contain elements of its opposite. Opposite is maybe not an appropriate term. Alternative...there we go. I agreed with Connors' conclusion: "...as teachers, we always have to encourage, even demand attempts at the next step - to go beyond merely personal accounts, either outside into encompassing the world in discourse, or inside into shaping our personal observations into the touching, deeply empathetic and finally metapersonal stuff of which the greatest writing is made" (181). AMEN! There can be a marriage of the two. Those kooky kids - Personal and Academic. They only think they don't belong together. We English teachers will be the high priests and priestesses that bring these star-crossed lovers together. High-five, Connors!
Okay, re-reading those last few sentences...it is clear that I have felt the full effects of losing one hour of sleep. Righto, nighto.
The "novelty" portion of Connors' address to personalism stuck out the most to me. Maybe that's what separates personal writing from academic writing, if any separation can be made at all. I don't know, I guess you can write for an academic purpose and make it new, at the same time. Hm, debatable.
It seems like we established in class the fact that there is no clear distinction to be made between the personal and the academic in writing. Writing can be glaringly one or the other, but will always contain elements of its opposite. Opposite is maybe not an appropriate term. Alternative...there we go. I agreed with Connors' conclusion: "...as teachers, we always have to encourage, even demand attempts at the next step - to go beyond merely personal accounts, either outside into encompassing the world in discourse, or inside into shaping our personal observations into the touching, deeply empathetic and finally metapersonal stuff of which the greatest writing is made" (181). AMEN! There can be a marriage of the two. Those kooky kids - Personal and Academic. They only think they don't belong together. We English teachers will be the high priests and priestesses that bring these star-crossed lovers together. High-five, Connors!
Okay, re-reading those last few sentences...it is clear that I have felt the full effects of losing one hour of sleep. Righto, nighto.
Planning Strategies and the Womanly Autobiography
I know it's taken me a while to respond. My time usually reserved for homework and posting has been taken up by me house-sitting and pet-sitting…this last week and upcoming week were/are impossibly busy.
Berkenkotter: This was a good idea for both Berkenkotter and Murray. I liked how she broke up her essay into the "methodology" and "results," along with other parts and then finally summarized. I'm going back and re-reading the transcription of Murray's thoughts/writing as I'm writing this…and, I don't know this man, but I like him better in this piece than I do in his own "writing is autobiography" piece. He really thinks of the audience, and I know that's something that I have difficulty with. I don't ask myself enough questions when I write, I think. I know these readings are meant to help us out with teaching writing, but this one (and a handful of others) kind of make me think about my own writing. I guess my one "note" to make about this piece is that…I don't know, maybe I'm alone on this, but I think that Murray's letter about death to the 11 year old was maybe his comment that Berkenkotter didn't give him a prompt he thought worthwhile. No? I could be wrong.
Flynn: "If women and men differ in their relational capacities and in their moral and intellectual development, we would expect to find manifestations of these differences in the student papers we encounter in our first-year composition courses" (182). Not necessarily. Not if what students are producing at that stage are slightly varied imitations of Lambert's (is it Lambert?) freshman "canned essay." Can that ancient model be gendered? I guess if it is, it's probably leaning towards the male persuasion. I did like Flynn's essay. There is a difference between women and men when it comes to writing…and Culler's right about the reading part, too. I think a lot of essays can be written similarly to this one. What about age? And socioeconomic class?
Hm. I wasn't a big fan of Flynn's examples. I think her arguments for anxiety, connection to nature, and individualism can be made for both sides.
Murray: In class, it seemed like people either really liked this piece or really hated it. I didn't dislike it, but I certainly didn't think it was all that great. A lot of the items Murray included in his essay seemed to be there to simply showcase his range and wit. Especially the previously unpublished poem that he just happened to include here (and thus, getting it inadvertently published). I agree with him to a degree. Essentially, yes, all writing that comes from an individual is through some sort of lens or filter and is, in that sense, autobiographical. But things like technical writing and ghost-writing (as Shipka pointed out) are anything but autobiographical. Wouldn't a better argument be "All writing is subjective?"...but that's probably too broad of an argument to make.
Berkenkotter: This was a good idea for both Berkenkotter and Murray. I liked how she broke up her essay into the "methodology" and "results," along with other parts and then finally summarized. I'm going back and re-reading the transcription of Murray's thoughts/writing as I'm writing this…and, I don't know this man, but I like him better in this piece than I do in his own "writing is autobiography" piece. He really thinks of the audience, and I know that's something that I have difficulty with. I don't ask myself enough questions when I write, I think. I know these readings are meant to help us out with teaching writing, but this one (and a handful of others) kind of make me think about my own writing. I guess my one "note" to make about this piece is that…I don't know, maybe I'm alone on this, but I think that Murray's letter about death to the 11 year old was maybe his comment that Berkenkotter didn't give him a prompt he thought worthwhile. No? I could be wrong.
Flynn: "If women and men differ in their relational capacities and in their moral and intellectual development, we would expect to find manifestations of these differences in the student papers we encounter in our first-year composition courses" (182). Not necessarily. Not if what students are producing at that stage are slightly varied imitations of Lambert's (is it Lambert?) freshman "canned essay." Can that ancient model be gendered? I guess if it is, it's probably leaning towards the male persuasion. I did like Flynn's essay. There is a difference between women and men when it comes to writing…and Culler's right about the reading part, too. I think a lot of essays can be written similarly to this one. What about age? And socioeconomic class?
Hm. I wasn't a big fan of Flynn's examples. I think her arguments for anxiety, connection to nature, and individualism can be made for both sides.
Murray: In class, it seemed like people either really liked this piece or really hated it. I didn't dislike it, but I certainly didn't think it was all that great. A lot of the items Murray included in his essay seemed to be there to simply showcase his range and wit. Especially the previously unpublished poem that he just happened to include here (and thus, getting it inadvertently published). I agree with him to a degree. Essentially, yes, all writing that comes from an individual is through some sort of lens or filter and is, in that sense, autobiographical. But things like technical writing and ghost-writing (as Shipka pointed out) are anything but autobiographical. Wouldn't a better argument be "All writing is subjective?"...but that's probably too broad of an argument to make.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Writing and Knowing about Eyes, Hands, and Winds.
Bertoff: The title sounds like a Twilight Zone episode. When I saw the name "I. A. Richards," I thought I remembered him as being a New Critic. Since I already knew how he suggests people should read texts, I was interested to see how he thought people should write. He mentions a code...that sounds about right for Mr. Richards. Bertoff's comments about semantics and abstractions vs. actual "events" and how that ties into imagination and the "intelligent eye." I kind of want to put this into the category of the other essays that have high commentary on thinking, writing, etc. but don't really talk about how to implement that into the classroom...but I really liked Bertoff's essay. I simply mean that I enjoyed reading it. Funny stuff and anyone who mentions Buster Keaton in an academic text is alright with me.
Hairston: New paradigm. Cool, got it. So, here it is. Short and sweet. This isn't for me. I'm out. Done. I'm dropping out of the education program at the end of the semester. I don't know why I rationalized the torture I feel from going through my education classes before, but I'm not going to anymore. I'm miserable, I really am. I had a mini-nervous breakdown yesterday about doing full time work and full time school and about the prospect of teaching. I don't want to do it. Teaching was just going to be a job to get me through library science grad school anyway.
Sorry, I know I'm venting and you guys don't really care about my stressed out mental state. This does have something to do with the Hairston essay, I swear. I was re-reading through it last night to do my blog and I realized that I'm a traditionalist. Here is the sentence that stuck out the most: "Young adds that underlying the traditional paradigm is what he calls the 'vitalist' attitude toward composing; that is, the assumption that no one can really teach anyone else how to write because writing is a mysterious creative activity that cannot be categorized or analyzed" (115). THAT'S ME!!! I believe that, however wrong anyone else thinks it is. I wouldn't go as far as to say that it cannot be taught or that someone's writing cannot be improved upon, but I DO think it is mysterious. I don't like reading these essays because they try to de-mystify writing for me and I'm afraid that my writing is going to get screwed up in the "process." Maybe there should be a change...I don't know. I know I'm not going to be a part of it, though. Man, I hope Shipka doesn't fail me for writing all of this. She's right about the career suicide on this thing. I maybe just committed student career suicide.
Reither: I felt like Reither just kind of summed up what everyone in the field was doing, which was good for me to read at this point in the semester. I don't really know what else to say about this essay other than "gee, they really love their process." Also, Reither, I never thought that discourse community didn't mean knowledge community..okay? You've made that point a bit clearer than it needs to be.
Hairston: New paradigm. Cool, got it. So, here it is. Short and sweet. This isn't for me. I'm out. Done. I'm dropping out of the education program at the end of the semester. I don't know why I rationalized the torture I feel from going through my education classes before, but I'm not going to anymore. I'm miserable, I really am. I had a mini-nervous breakdown yesterday about doing full time work and full time school and about the prospect of teaching. I don't want to do it. Teaching was just going to be a job to get me through library science grad school anyway.
Sorry, I know I'm venting and you guys don't really care about my stressed out mental state. This does have something to do with the Hairston essay, I swear. I was re-reading through it last night to do my blog and I realized that I'm a traditionalist. Here is the sentence that stuck out the most: "Young adds that underlying the traditional paradigm is what he calls the 'vitalist' attitude toward composing; that is, the assumption that no one can really teach anyone else how to write because writing is a mysterious creative activity that cannot be categorized or analyzed" (115). THAT'S ME!!! I believe that, however wrong anyone else thinks it is. I wouldn't go as far as to say that it cannot be taught or that someone's writing cannot be improved upon, but I DO think it is mysterious. I don't like reading these essays because they try to de-mystify writing for me and I'm afraid that my writing is going to get screwed up in the "process." Maybe there should be a change...I don't know. I know I'm not going to be a part of it, though. Man, I hope Shipka doesn't fail me for writing all of this. She's right about the career suicide on this thing. I maybe just committed student career suicide.
Reither: I felt like Reither just kind of summed up what everyone in the field was doing, which was good for me to read at this point in the semester. I don't really know what else to say about this essay other than "gee, they really love their process." Also, Reither, I never thought that discourse community didn't mean knowledge community..okay? You've made that point a bit clearer than it needs to be.
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