*no awesome picture to go along with my ramblings :-(
This must be the week of my academic career where I learn about genre. Seriously, like 80% of the readings I did for my 3 classes focused in one way or another on genre. I am glad that I read Miller earlier in the week, otherwise I would have struggled with some of the readings for this class. I want to mention a few things about Honeycutt first.
For the first 20 pages of so I have all of these side notes about the transfer from individual writing to collaborative writing to individual ect. And then, poof, there is a whole section on the differences in history and individual and collaborative writing. The article was reading my mind! I was actually just having this conversation earlier in the week. I have taken 2 classes where we had the option to do our final seminar project as a collaborative project. In the first course, of the 9 of us, only two decided to work together to write a paper. Looking back I wish I would’ve done a collaborative project, but instead I did an individual paper. In the second course of 9, there were two groups of 3 and then the rest were individual projects. In this course, I did decided to work in a group for the final project and together we ended up composing a 20min movie; the other group did a web text and majority of the individuals did formal papers with powerpoints. It is interesting just to see who decided to use what mode, medium, genre. I have been thinking a lot about what is valued in the field (especially after last weeks readings). There seems to be encouragement for collaborative work within journals or conferences, but then when applying for jobs or tenure there is still value placed with the ability to do individual work. There is the possibility that I could have argued my way into collaborative projects throughout my MA career, but my MA thesis would have had to be individual. When is the first collaborative dissertation going to be done? If there is value placed with collaborative work, why does it feel like there is a rift between collaborative and individual? And, Honeycutt offered us some examples with regard to technology. New technologies encouraged a shift from collaborative to individual. Where do we think this is going to go? “But even if our composing memories become less individual and more collective, either through technical or social means, certain features of voice-recognition technology might prevent its use from being the collaborative effort that dictation was in past eras.” (318).
The other theme/issue that I was thinking about while reading this article was the thought that these voice recognition programs could become status programs in the sense that you would have to speak a particular standard dialect for the program to accurately record you. “You can, however, achieve fairly high recognition accuracy rates— but only if you make a concerted effort to improve your pronunciation and diction and speak in continuous phrases so that the com- puter can parse your speech correctly.” (315-316). Would/will these programs reinforce the idea that there is a standard dialect and that those who are able to afford access to the program are those that are within the standard? Therefore, leaving others behind and causing another divide within literacy learning?
More to come later on genre and itexts.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I Am a Changed Man
Note: Starting off with a picture of The Best Dog because this page is entirely too text-heavy, and this actually ties into what I'm saying...maybe?
I've spent the last 10 weeks whining, bitching and complaining (all different forms of expression) about my students' lack of technological knowledge. This, combined with my tendency to be irritated by everything, is not exactly making me a happy camper. So I've decided to do something drastic: I'm making my students really use technology. For their final project, I'm going to make them do something that isn't composed in Microsoft Word. I think I was entirely inspired by Yancey's article--or maybe it was Selfe's. I'm getting the two mixed up right now. But what I do know is that in the past I've only been paying lip service to technology as a teacher, when I should be integrating it more into my actual classes.
Even before I started teaching, I sort of felt the resistance to technology the my students might have--though I still underestimated their skills. Aside from blogs and Vista, technology has this sort of superfluous feeling in my class; we use it, but in most instances an analog alternative exists--and I'd probably go for that if I wasn't so keen on not wasting paper. For the various papers we have in my class--all in Microsoft Word format--I make multi-modality an option; and, to be fair, Word is not exactly the best place for multi-modality. Due to its lack of picture compression, students have to literally wait hours (yes, hours) if they want to upload a picture-laden document to Vista. But, aside from upload bottlenecks that desperately need fixed, I think I'm forcing technology into a place it doesn't belong. If I want students to start getting all multi-modal, I'm going to need to have them compose in a place that supports multi-modality. That's why I'm changing the next paper into a paper-long blog post with mandatory media. That'll learn 'em.
Back when I was first monitoring classes, I sat in on a session with a instructor who didn't use the laptops, projector, etc. in his teaching. When the class was over, he came up to us and proudly said, "You'll notice that I didn't use any of the technology. I feel that stuff just gets in the way." Of course I thought he deserved a good face-punching, but I decided to take the more civilized route by arguing for the type of reading and writing students our doing without our inspiration or intervention. I even used myself as an example of someone who makes a half-living from doing the kind of self-taught writing completely facilitated by the Internet. But, as Selfe says, "We have convinced ourselves that we and the students with whom we work are made of much finer stuff than the machines in our midst, and we are determined to maintain this state of affairs" (414 HOLY CRAP, I'M CITING). And to make things worse, the dude was using content no college freshman would be interested in learning, even if he brought a keg to class. He was completely devoted to making himself as irrelevant as possible.
So I may have to alter the approach to my class' content drastically over break. Right now, I'm a little forgiving of shortcomings in computer literacy; I think the best thing to do in this case is to jump right in and help the stragglers as much as I can. Wish me luck.
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Fallen World
I just finished watching the Youtube video by Richard Miller and I thought it was awesome. On a purely aesthetic note, I liked the pictures and the music together and his voice was paced wonderfully to go along with the images. I thought I would find the whole thing incredibly boring but I found myself sitting here and fully absorbed into what he was saying and what I was seeing. I think this is a nod to the effects a multimodal presentation could have on a person/student and I hope that one of these days I can make my presentations as effective as Miller did.
Now, I had some responses to the overall theme of the presentation and I must say I didn’t know what was going on at first with all the pictures of apocalyptic images…I wasn’t sure where he was going to go with those and then into humanity. Then, I realized, that he was going to address something that I have pondered often myself and that is the existence and (I hate to use this word) usefulness of the humanities. Here the viewer is presented with devastating images of a world at its end…leaving me, the viewer, with the now familiar feeling of hopelessness and cynicism. I was waiting for the usual argument that we have to change the future or realize what is happening and all that jazz. Instead, Miller continues with an argument that with humanities people can learn to hope again. People and students can begin to realize that the world is not a place where only black and white resides but instead the world is in a constant state of grey. I have thought many times that I wished more people would realize the consistency of grey in our world, and here I found out that is a goal of humanities (according to Miller anyway). When realizing the ambiguousness of our world, a person should be able to see more clearly thus allowing them to possibly make change and not just change in only a critical sense but change with movement. How great! Suddenly I was feeling a new sense of duty as an English major and English graduate student. My point in this university, where my department does not even have proper bathroom doors, is to direct the students about the world and give them hope. Help students to realize the world out there not in terms of right and wrong but in terms of understanding and becoming a global citizen. A daunting task, but I was at least given a task. Of course, this then made me panic because I thought of my composition classroom and realized there is a lot of room for change in order to help students learn and really understand some things but I figure the first step to my own personal change is realizing I have to do it—sorry, I guess that was just an aside. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed this presentation and as usual as I am trying to Blog I want to get everything out but find myself either repeating or leaving out main concepts that are running around in my head, so for that I apologize. ☺
Now, I had some responses to the overall theme of the presentation and I must say I didn’t know what was going on at first with all the pictures of apocalyptic images…I wasn’t sure where he was going to go with those and then into humanity. Then, I realized, that he was going to address something that I have pondered often myself and that is the existence and (I hate to use this word) usefulness of the humanities. Here the viewer is presented with devastating images of a world at its end…leaving me, the viewer, with the now familiar feeling of hopelessness and cynicism. I was waiting for the usual argument that we have to change the future or realize what is happening and all that jazz. Instead, Miller continues with an argument that with humanities people can learn to hope again. People and students can begin to realize that the world is not a place where only black and white resides but instead the world is in a constant state of grey. I have thought many times that I wished more people would realize the consistency of grey in our world, and here I found out that is a goal of humanities (according to Miller anyway). When realizing the ambiguousness of our world, a person should be able to see more clearly thus allowing them to possibly make change and not just change in only a critical sense but change with movement. How great! Suddenly I was feeling a new sense of duty as an English major and English graduate student. My point in this university, where my department does not even have proper bathroom doors, is to direct the students about the world and give them hope. Help students to realize the world out there not in terms of right and wrong but in terms of understanding and becoming a global citizen. A daunting task, but I was at least given a task. Of course, this then made me panic because I thought of my composition classroom and realized there is a lot of room for change in order to help students learn and really understand some things but I figure the first step to my own personal change is realizing I have to do it—sorry, I guess that was just an aside. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed this presentation and as usual as I am trying to Blog I want to get everything out but find myself either repeating or leaving out main concepts that are running around in my head, so for that I apologize. ☺
Can These Bones Live?
Can These Bones Live?
This week’s readings have really been resonating with me—especially Yancey’s—I suppose because she offers us something tangible to sink out pedagogy into. Besides her talking about a new comp/rhetoric major in practice, her suggestion of a new model of composition is refreshing. I have a lot of angst about the discipline—and its slipperiness, especially as it is influenced by digital comp and new media. The dissonance I feel is in part philosophical, in part aesthetic, and in part practical. The practical weighs heavily on me as I consider—each semester—how to teach comp. Each semester, I reinvent myself, promising I’ll never do “that” (what I did each last semester) again.
Next semester, I am using feminist thought as a vehicle to explore writing. I understand the why of this, but the how is a different story. I think that Yancey’s three-pronged approach to teaching comp will help me out a good deal—as will my experience of making last week’s movie. But Yancey’s triad of circulation, canons of rhetoric, and deixis will give me some pedagogical hooks on which to hang my hat.
I especially appreciate Yancey’s explication of how the practice of circulation might look in a classroom—staring with a student-composed definition of a term, say “feminism” for instance, then the student proceeding to remediate her own definition—not her own writing, so much as the knowledge she/we are producing as we interact with each student’s definition (I’m also glad to reading Schiappa’s Defining Reality at this time). Moving then to Power Point would help the students to see and feel how the medium shapes the writing, how text, medium and genre form/inform one another.
I think Yancey’s insight that “to study text production, reception, and meaning apart from animated activity is to miss the core” of a text’s meaning is exactly right. I have been wanting to start focusing in class theories of writing vis-à-vis practice, but have had some anxiety about how ready first and second-year students are for that kind of treatment. I think that, in fact, they ought to be “insiders” in terms of writing scholarship, questions in the discipline, conflicts and all.
Yancey’s treatment of the five canons, especially of invention, arrangement and delivery struck a chord with me because as I was composing in Movie Maker, I encountered the phenomenon she described. I had invented, but arrangement sent be back to invention again—as did delivery. In multimodal composition, recursivity plays very largely into the whole process.
As far as deixis, I’m still thinking.
I wholeheartedly agree with Yancey on another point: students ARE writing out of class—and no one is making them produce. We need to tap into that. So I’m still thinking. I think the idea is that their writing must live. We all know that writing for a class, fro a teacher, for a grade, for a requirement is dry-bones writing. We hate writing it. We hate reading it.
This week’s readings have really been resonating with me—especially Yancey’s—I suppose because she offers us something tangible to sink out pedagogy into. Besides her talking about a new comp/rhetoric major in practice, her suggestion of a new model of composition is refreshing. I have a lot of angst about the discipline—and its slipperiness, especially as it is influenced by digital comp and new media. The dissonance I feel is in part philosophical, in part aesthetic, and in part practical. The practical weighs heavily on me as I consider—each semester—how to teach comp. Each semester, I reinvent myself, promising I’ll never do “that” (what I did each last semester) again.
Next semester, I am using feminist thought as a vehicle to explore writing. I understand the why of this, but the how is a different story. I think that Yancey’s three-pronged approach to teaching comp will help me out a good deal—as will my experience of making last week’s movie. But Yancey’s triad of circulation, canons of rhetoric, and deixis will give me some pedagogical hooks on which to hang my hat.
I especially appreciate Yancey’s explication of how the practice of circulation might look in a classroom—staring with a student-composed definition of a term, say “feminism” for instance, then the student proceeding to remediate her own definition—not her own writing, so much as the knowledge she/we are producing as we interact with each student’s definition (I’m also glad to reading Schiappa’s Defining Reality at this time). Moving then to Power Point would help the students to see and feel how the medium shapes the writing, how text, medium and genre form/inform one another.
I think Yancey’s insight that “to study text production, reception, and meaning apart from animated activity is to miss the core” of a text’s meaning is exactly right. I have been wanting to start focusing in class theories of writing vis-à-vis practice, but have had some anxiety about how ready first and second-year students are for that kind of treatment. I think that, in fact, they ought to be “insiders” in terms of writing scholarship, questions in the discipline, conflicts and all.
Yancey’s treatment of the five canons, especially of invention, arrangement and delivery struck a chord with me because as I was composing in Movie Maker, I encountered the phenomenon she described. I had invented, but arrangement sent be back to invention again—as did delivery. In multimodal composition, recursivity plays very largely into the whole process.
As far as deixis, I’m still thinking.
I wholeheartedly agree with Yancey on another point: students ARE writing out of class—and no one is making them produce. We need to tap into that. So I’m still thinking. I think the idea is that their writing must live. We all know that writing for a class, fro a teacher, for a grade, for a requirement is dry-bones writing. We hate writing it. We hate reading it.
Yancy, The Bricks I was given, And Woooooooman!
"The images, in other
words, did not simply
punctuate a written text;
together words and
images were (and are) the
materials of composition.3"
I like to keep reading this little sidebar, like it was a prose poem. Words! Woooooooords. Wo-o-o-o-o-ords! But wait, the bricks we build our mansions out of do not just include words anymore: as Yancy goes on to further explain in the footnote, we are not even limited to words and images. With the addition of audio to the sense mix, how long is it before technology develops were we can smell or even taste textures. I am not limiting this to the screen, as Yancy does. Let's go a step further. Why not serve drinks at a presentation? About to give an acerbic lecture? Slices of lime. Now, some of you are rolling your eyes and pursing your lips. I'm looking at YOU Barb. I am completely serious. Why not use the materials offered to us to communicate? Why not you any means necessary? If we take what Kress is selling us, and once I get past the image/word dichotomy he sets up, textual, intertextual, and recontextual possibilities are endless. Should we just limit ourselves to words and images and sounds? Or should we be pushing the boundaries of text? Should we encourage it in our students? Who gets to say what bricks we use? What our mansions should look like? I am not willing to put a stop to the breadth of materials available to myself, or any other writer.
And now, for something completely the same: Elliot making a jackass out of himself, for his class, while being observed by Gerry Winters.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndv6Mc6jtgY
Professional? Academic? Never.
E-Rizzle. Fo' Shizzle.
words, did not simply
punctuate a written text;
together words and
images were (and are) the
materials of composition.3"
I like to keep reading this little sidebar, like it was a prose poem. Words! Woooooooords. Wo-o-o-o-o-ords! But wait, the bricks we build our mansions out of do not just include words anymore: as Yancy goes on to further explain in the footnote, we are not even limited to words and images. With the addition of audio to the sense mix, how long is it before technology develops were we can smell or even taste textures. I am not limiting this to the screen, as Yancy does. Let's go a step further. Why not serve drinks at a presentation? About to give an acerbic lecture? Slices of lime. Now, some of you are rolling your eyes and pursing your lips. I'm looking at YOU Barb. I am completely serious. Why not use the materials offered to us to communicate? Why not you any means necessary? If we take what Kress is selling us, and once I get past the image/word dichotomy he sets up, textual, intertextual, and recontextual possibilities are endless. Should we just limit ourselves to words and images and sounds? Or should we be pushing the boundaries of text? Should we encourage it in our students? Who gets to say what bricks we use? What our mansions should look like? I am not willing to put a stop to the breadth of materials available to myself, or any other writer.
And now, for something completely the same: Elliot making a jackass out of himself, for his class, while being observed by Gerry Winters.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndv6Mc6jtgY
Professional? Academic? Never.
E-Rizzle. Fo' Shizzle.
Hope, Creativity, Beauty... and technology?
When I started watching/listening to Miller’s presentation, I was really just listening to it while multitasking online. It wasn’t going to be any different than when I have tv on in the background while doing work… only, I was drawn into his presentation. I needed to see the images. (or maybe it was the music that drew me in). I wasn’t surprised at the decline of English majors (or French or German), but what surprised me a little was the one student’s struggle to articulate why he was an English major. It could be that I am just so used to having to articulate what I am doing and why, that it seems second nature. Why are our students majoring in English? Literature? French? German? When the end of the world is coming?
He posed these three words at one point (maybe part 3).
Hope: the idea that the humanities can offer a secular basis for hope.
Creative: how to teach students to be creative? How to teach them to use their imagination?
Beauty: I don’t think I can think of an instance where I have talked about something being beautiful in the classroom. Have you?
He went on the discuss beauty as having to do with pointlessness. The power of beauty wanting you to do something (going to see beautiful buildings). And, how do you make things beautiful?
Can we connect Miller’s 3 terms, hope, creativity, and beauty with emerging technology? Can we instill hope for a better future with technology? Can we teach students to be creative with technology? Can things be beautiful with technology? And, can technology be a way to share that beauty. I think so. I think technology is a perfect instance where we can bring Miller’s three terms/concepts together and make humanities not seem so gloomy.
He ends with the goal of humanities is to find a way on how to build on the ruins. Can we use technology to do so? Can technology be the rebirth of the humanities? Should it be?
He posed these three words at one point (maybe part 3).
Hope: the idea that the humanities can offer a secular basis for hope.
Creative: how to teach students to be creative? How to teach them to use their imagination?
Beauty: I don’t think I can think of an instance where I have talked about something being beautiful in the classroom. Have you?
He went on the discuss beauty as having to do with pointlessness. The power of beauty wanting you to do something (going to see beautiful buildings). And, how do you make things beautiful?
Can we connect Miller’s 3 terms, hope, creativity, and beauty with emerging technology? Can we instill hope for a better future with technology? Can we teach students to be creative with technology? Can things be beautiful with technology? And, can technology be a way to share that beauty. I think so. I think technology is a perfect instance where we can bring Miller’s three terms/concepts together and make humanities not seem so gloomy.
He ends with the goal of humanities is to find a way on how to build on the ruins. Can we use technology to do so? Can technology be the rebirth of the humanities? Should it be?
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Al Gore's Athenian age of democracy
First, it was great that the IText authors chose to outline the various ways in which various frameworks can be utilized in IText research. For my project specifically, it is nice to see design employed as a key rhetorical element in composition: “Rhetoric is design art (Kaufer and Butler, Rhetoric), a goal-directed activity similar to engineering and architecture in its regard for practical effects in the future and in its need to be socially responsible and ethical” (p. 271). Later in the piece, the authors argue that in order to “design rhetorically effective documents and systems for their production, access, support, and distribution, we need to understand how people make sense of these new forms and practices” (p. 281). They then ask, “What aspects of design can promote both efficient meaning-making for the purposes at hand and the deep understanding required for reflection and thought?” (p. 281). This question is really important, in that it asks us, as writers and compositionists, how we can best make use of the rhetorical means available. This is what we do, and this is what we teach.
In addition, the authors point out the importance of both the visual and verbal in texts. The fact that visual communication is, as they say, “a basic form of human communication, dating back before written language,” should be enough to convince us as teachers to go beyond the five-paragraph essay. IText asks us to revisit the ways in which we have communicated and composed communicative texts in the past, and then decide which modes and media are most appropriate for the rhetorical situations we encounter in the present.
Yancy’s discussion of intertextuality and remediation is also quite interesting, especially considering the IText piece (and vice versa). She proposes that we teach a model of composition that is rooted in “circulation of composition, canons of rhetoric, and deicity of technology” (pp. 311-312). To complicate this model of composition, Yancy discusses remediation (in context with circulation): “We create the new in the context of the old and based on the model of the old” (p. 313). To consider intellectual property rights and copyright alongside Yancy’s statement throws me a bit. What I create is essentially a remediation of what’s already been created, but just a bit different? It makes sense, but I guess what’s really confusing is the “just a bit different” part. Have I simply rearranged the ideas of others as part of my rhetorical moves and thus created something “new” but still old? Rather than the ideas themselves, is it the design of the composition that is new and created by me?
And...
Yancy then discusses how delivery of a text changes according to the technology involved: “what a shift in the means of delivery does is bring invention and arrangement into a new relationship with each other” (p. 317). The interface of the text offers certain affordances and constraints that the writer/composer must work with and around. It seems that Yancy (and the IText group) want us to (re)consider the importance of delivery/distribution of texts. In an academic world where so often the final artifact is the keeper of meaning, things like delivery, production, and distribution are conveniently forgotten. The way a text is produced, delivered, and distributed can greatly affect the meanings interpreted and received. As John put it, “Shit doesn’t just emerge”, and rightly so. Meaning doesn’t just flow from the textual artifact, but is created in an ongoing negotiation between author, reader, and the means of production, distribution, and delivery. Not to mention an other factors that could influence interpretation of meaning. Technology? Social class?
As Selfe put it, we so often assume that “when we don’t have to pay attention to machines, we remain free to focus on the theory and practice of language, the stuff of real intellectual and social concern” (p. 413). Those who fall into that trap and assume we can ignore machines (technology) and become enlightened are greatly misguided. Language itself is a technology, and yet that has become so transparent that we’ve forgotten to notice. But we can thank the government for getting us back on track and focusing on technology to save us from a life of illiteracy. (Please note my sarcasm.) As Al Gore said, “ I see a new Athenian age of democracy forged in the fora the GII will create....” (Selfe 426). Maybe a democracy for those lucky enough to have access to it, but not for the rest of us.
In addition, the authors point out the importance of both the visual and verbal in texts. The fact that visual communication is, as they say, “a basic form of human communication, dating back before written language,” should be enough to convince us as teachers to go beyond the five-paragraph essay. IText asks us to revisit the ways in which we have communicated and composed communicative texts in the past, and then decide which modes and media are most appropriate for the rhetorical situations we encounter in the present.
Yancy’s discussion of intertextuality and remediation is also quite interesting, especially considering the IText piece (and vice versa). She proposes that we teach a model of composition that is rooted in “circulation of composition, canons of rhetoric, and deicity of technology” (pp. 311-312). To complicate this model of composition, Yancy discusses remediation (in context with circulation): “We create the new in the context of the old and based on the model of the old” (p. 313). To consider intellectual property rights and copyright alongside Yancy’s statement throws me a bit. What I create is essentially a remediation of what’s already been created, but just a bit different? It makes sense, but I guess what’s really confusing is the “just a bit different” part. Have I simply rearranged the ideas of others as part of my rhetorical moves and thus created something “new” but still old? Rather than the ideas themselves, is it the design of the composition that is new and created by me?
And...
Yancy then discusses how delivery of a text changes according to the technology involved: “what a shift in the means of delivery does is bring invention and arrangement into a new relationship with each other” (p. 317). The interface of the text offers certain affordances and constraints that the writer/composer must work with and around. It seems that Yancy (and the IText group) want us to (re)consider the importance of delivery/distribution of texts. In an academic world where so often the final artifact is the keeper of meaning, things like delivery, production, and distribution are conveniently forgotten. The way a text is produced, delivered, and distributed can greatly affect the meanings interpreted and received. As John put it, “Shit doesn’t just emerge”, and rightly so. Meaning doesn’t just flow from the textual artifact, but is created in an ongoing negotiation between author, reader, and the means of production, distribution, and delivery. Not to mention an other factors that could influence interpretation of meaning. Technology? Social class?
As Selfe put it, we so often assume that “when we don’t have to pay attention to machines, we remain free to focus on the theory and practice of language, the stuff of real intellectual and social concern” (p. 413). Those who fall into that trap and assume we can ignore machines (technology) and become enlightened are greatly misguided. Language itself is a technology, and yet that has become so transparent that we’ve forgotten to notice. But we can thank the government for getting us back on track and focusing on technology to save us from a life of illiteracy. (Please note my sarcasm.) As Al Gore said, “ I see a new Athenian age of democracy forged in the fora the GII will create....” (Selfe 426). Maybe a democracy for those lucky enough to have access to it, but not for the rest of us.
Rhetoric: A Technological Entry Point?
Miller argues that the humanities must reform, or risk becoming irrelevant. He cites varied catastrophic events, in both image and text, in a sort of apocalyptic vision of the larger world, and then he moves in to the university level. Providing graphs and verbal commentary, he decries a loss in enrollment in humanities, and more particularly, English, coursework at the BA level, and a loss in the number of majors.
In his book, Miller suggests we ought to reconsider how higher education reshapes daily life experiences; and he argues for humanities education as a humanizing force in troubled times. He states, “I believe the function of a secular public education should be: to provide training in the arts of solving the problems of this world, training that recognizes that people, who never leave behind their embodied histories and their cherished beliefs, can’t be revised the way papers can” (p. 197). He argues for humanities as communication—making connections.
In his argument for communication, following from a Perelminian understanding, I see a direct call for rhetoric. Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca suggest rhetoric assumes an intellectual contact; and further, that rhetoric is about “gaining adherence of the minds.” If Miller is right in that we need to make these connections with the ‘real’ non-ivory tower world, then we must employ rhetoric in its greatest powers to demonstrate our willingness to work with(in) the real world.
This segues into the next set of materials (Yancey, Selfe, I-text). Across these materials, I see a continuing call for recognizing and examining the value of digital scholarship and pedagogy. The I-text article contains a digital research agenda. This article also delineates the necessity of incorporating a rhetorical perspective into digital research (p. 272) (along with discussing the influence of I-texts across a variety of research areas).
Digital scholarship seems to be one way of answering Miller’s concerns about the humanities needing to communicate with the world outside itself. If digital composition does provide a way of expanding the audience for the humanities, it might be conceived as an audience appeal. We need to use the means and the methods that others are using. If no one’s reading parchment anymore, then you don’t write on parchment. If people are reading in the age of the screen, then you need to write accordingly. It might also be seen as an act of metis.
I’m thinking back to a fairly recent CCC article about metis. The teacher described in the article argued for using metis when talking to her students about controversial issues, because without the bit of cunning the teacher enacted, the students would be unwilling or possibly even unable to open their ears to new voices.
I suggest, based on this week’s reading materials, that those seeking to advance digital writing studies might also need to evince a sort of cunning, at least in their pedagogy. A metis-based technology approach does not necessarily make technology the centerpiece of a course’s design, but instead integrates technology seamlessly throughout the coursework. Although Yancey’s approach seems to argue for a potentially more overt approach, her suggestions also may be used to more subtly integrate technology across the curriculum as well. Selfe states,
For Selfe, this lack of involvement is problematic because it means we let other people decide how the technology is used and implemented, which leads to continued (and sometimes increased) social inequities, especially within the realm of literacy. I suggest that in addition to this problem, we are missing an opportunity. Selfe uses Harraway’s idea of “coyote knowing” (p. 429), but I think the concept of metis would work just as well and perhaps better.
If we enter into these discussions of technology at varied levels—as researchers, teachers, and potentially as activists, we can also do more to answer Richard Miller’s call to reinforce the significance of our work as both teachers and researchers.
In his book, Miller suggests we ought to reconsider how higher education reshapes daily life experiences; and he argues for humanities education as a humanizing force in troubled times. He states, “I believe the function of a secular public education should be: to provide training in the arts of solving the problems of this world, training that recognizes that people, who never leave behind their embodied histories and their cherished beliefs, can’t be revised the way papers can” (p. 197). He argues for humanities as communication—making connections.
In his argument for communication, following from a Perelminian understanding, I see a direct call for rhetoric. Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca suggest rhetoric assumes an intellectual contact; and further, that rhetoric is about “gaining adherence of the minds.” If Miller is right in that we need to make these connections with the ‘real’ non-ivory tower world, then we must employ rhetoric in its greatest powers to demonstrate our willingness to work with(in) the real world.
This segues into the next set of materials (Yancey, Selfe, I-text). Across these materials, I see a continuing call for recognizing and examining the value of digital scholarship and pedagogy. The I-text article contains a digital research agenda. This article also delineates the necessity of incorporating a rhetorical perspective into digital research (p. 272) (along with discussing the influence of I-texts across a variety of research areas).
Digital scholarship seems to be one way of answering Miller’s concerns about the humanities needing to communicate with the world outside itself. If digital composition does provide a way of expanding the audience for the humanities, it might be conceived as an audience appeal. We need to use the means and the methods that others are using. If no one’s reading parchment anymore, then you don’t write on parchment. If people are reading in the age of the screen, then you need to write accordingly. It might also be seen as an act of metis.
I’m thinking back to a fairly recent CCC article about metis. The teacher described in the article argued for using metis when talking to her students about controversial issues, because without the bit of cunning the teacher enacted, the students would be unwilling or possibly even unable to open their ears to new voices.
I suggest, based on this week’s reading materials, that those seeking to advance digital writing studies might also need to evince a sort of cunning, at least in their pedagogy. A metis-based technology approach does not necessarily make technology the centerpiece of a course’s design, but instead integrates technology seamlessly throughout the coursework. Although Yancey’s approach seems to argue for a potentially more overt approach, her suggestions also may be used to more subtly integrate technology across the curriculum as well. Selfe states,
we have not felt a responsibility to involve ourselves directly in some of the more public discussions about technology and educational policy because many of us unconsciously subscribe to a belief-both culturally and historically determined-that technology is a productive outgrowth of Science and Innovation (cf. Winner; Virilio; Feenberg; Johnson-Eilola). As a result, we take comfort when the linkage between literacy and computer technology is portrayed as a socially progressive movement, one that will benefit American citizens generally and without regard for their circumstances or backgrounds. Such a belief releases us from the responsibility to pay attention. (p. 416)
For Selfe, this lack of involvement is problematic because it means we let other people decide how the technology is used and implemented, which leads to continued (and sometimes increased) social inequities, especially within the realm of literacy. I suggest that in addition to this problem, we are missing an opportunity. Selfe uses Harraway’s idea of “coyote knowing” (p. 429), but I think the concept of metis would work just as well and perhaps better.
If we enter into these discussions of technology at varied levels—as researchers, teachers, and potentially as activists, we can also do more to answer Richard Miller’s call to reinforce the significance of our work as both teachers and researchers.
A couple of Questions worth asking
There are two more things that I would really like to know--and if any of you have info on these subjects, please respond.
1) What is the current status of the digital divide? What are the latests statistics (on class, race, gender, socieconomic status) regarding access to technology and acquisition of technological literacy?
2) Does KSU have computers available--to take home--for students who don't currently own them, who can't afford them, and who don't have the means to access the computers on campus?
1) What is the current status of the digital divide? What are the latests statistics (on class, race, gender, socieconomic status) regarding access to technology and acquisition of technological literacy?
2) Does KSU have computers available--to take home--for students who don't currently own them, who can't afford them, and who don't have the means to access the computers on campus?
Selfe and Paying Attention
This is probably the fourth or fifth time I have read this particular CCCC's address by Selfe. It's one of my favorites because each time I read it, I'm reminded of our larger responsibilities as scholars, as human beings.
Among other things, Selfe points out the contradiction between the egalitarian rhetoric that often defines discussions of new media literacy and the hierarchical reality of our economic system. In other words, Selfe examines egalitarian rhetoric which says that we will "provide all Americans with an education enriched by technology, and, thus, equal opportunity to high-paying, technology-rich jobs and economic prosperity after graduation" (419). At the same time, she notes the hierarchical reality of our economic system and our education system--which help to sustain an underclass that is disproportionately comprised of people of color. As Selfe explains, "computers continue to be distributed differentially along related axes of race and socioeconomic status and this distribution contributes to ongoing patterns of racism and to the continuation of poverty" (420). Importantly, she understands unequal access to technology and technological illiteracy to be necessary functions, symptoms of our economic system. She explains:
"The economic engine of technology must be fueled by--and produce--not only a continuing supply of individuals who are highly literate in terms of technological knowledge, but also an ongoing supply of individuals who fail to acquire technological literacy, those who are termed "illiterate" according to the official definition. These latter individuals provide the unskilled, low-paid labor necessary to sustain the system I have described--their work generates the surplus labor that must continually be re-invested in capital projects to produce more sohpisticated technologies" (427).
To put this another way, the unfairness is built right into the sytems of which we are a part. Our economic system requires that, in our education system, certain people fail; it requires that certain people remain illiterate; it requires a digital divide.
This is such an important argument to keep in mind. As we all clamor about the perils of failing to teach digital media in the classroom, we mustn't forget what the likely effect of our teaching will be: to reinforce already existing social inequalities. This is not to say that we are bad people; it's just to say that we are functioning in a system that demands that we act as gatekeepers. Jon, in his post, said something that really hit me when he was discussing his teaching at Brown Mackie. He wrote:
"Even though access to computers and internet is (rapidly?) changing, there are still many that would be considered on the lower end of the digital divide. Joe, the plumber, himself may be such an individual. Certainly, many of the women (and men) I taught at Brown Mackie college (demographically 80% female) many of whom were in Section 8 housing and survived off of state-issued food cards did not have computers in their home. These women may be a statistical anomaly or the self-report data I received was unreliable. Nonetheless, it gives me pause (a cognitive dissonance, a felt difficulty) when I read this article. It may be no surprise that many of the women who did not have computers in their homes were African Americans. "
Here Jon reports that many of his students at Brown Mackie were without computers--and adds some demographic information about these people, who were mostly women of color living in relative poverty. As Jon points out, it is no surprise that those "on the lower end of the digital divide" were African-Americans. I might add that it is no surprise that you would find them in greater numbers at a college like Brown Mackie than you would at Kent State. And you'd be more likely to find them at Kent State than you would at Harvard.
Again this is a pattern of inequality that is structural, that is inherent in the systems that we have created. Dr. King used to talk about an "evil triplet" of racism, economic exploitation, and militarism. For King, one couldn't try to dissolve racism, without also trying to dissolve the other two members of the triplet. We can add to the list a fourth component: educational inequality. And, like King, we must keep in mind that we cannot hope to transcend this inequality without attending also to racism, economic exploitation, and, yes, militarism.
This leads me to discuss many of the solutions proposed by Selfe. Selfe offers that we start changing the way we do business locally in the academy and she asks that we challenge official versions of literacy in our curriculm meetings and standarads documents. Likewise, she calls on us to revise our professional organizations and facilities. All of Selfe's proposed solutions are important; and I agree with her that we must beigin locally.
But one thing that is missing from Selfe's list of things that we could do is protest, demonstration, and the like. I would argue that the "savage inequality" that we see requires more than curricular reform; it requires that we organize and protest--that we make a stink in front of the public, so that these issues are talked about beyond the walls of the academy. I would also argue that we have to raise our collective voices not only about the reforms needed in English classrooms and English curricula. If we truly want to "address the complex linkages among technology, literacy, poverty, and race" (429)--and I'll throw in militarism, too--then we need to be protesting loudly for change in our economic system, protesting for an end to structural racism and interpersonal racism, and protesting wars which only suck up the resources that could be used for such social progress. In other words, we need to start addressing all components of the linkage simultaneously. We need to start merging our academic selves with our civic selves. We need to bring the lessons we learn in the academy to the public, and make public our political vision.
Such a project would require organization; it would require--dare I say it--consciousness-raising. It would also mean challenging systems in ways that would likely put our reputations and careers in jeopardy.
I wonder if I--I wonder if we--we have the courage to make a stink about what is staring all of us in the face.
Among other things, Selfe points out the contradiction between the egalitarian rhetoric that often defines discussions of new media literacy and the hierarchical reality of our economic system. In other words, Selfe examines egalitarian rhetoric which says that we will "provide all Americans with an education enriched by technology, and, thus, equal opportunity to high-paying, technology-rich jobs and economic prosperity after graduation" (419). At the same time, she notes the hierarchical reality of our economic system and our education system--which help to sustain an underclass that is disproportionately comprised of people of color. As Selfe explains, "computers continue to be distributed differentially along related axes of race and socioeconomic status and this distribution contributes to ongoing patterns of racism and to the continuation of poverty" (420). Importantly, she understands unequal access to technology and technological illiteracy to be necessary functions, symptoms of our economic system. She explains:
"The economic engine of technology must be fueled by--and produce--not only a continuing supply of individuals who are highly literate in terms of technological knowledge, but also an ongoing supply of individuals who fail to acquire technological literacy, those who are termed "illiterate" according to the official definition. These latter individuals provide the unskilled, low-paid labor necessary to sustain the system I have described--their work generates the surplus labor that must continually be re-invested in capital projects to produce more sohpisticated technologies" (427).
To put this another way, the unfairness is built right into the sytems of which we are a part. Our economic system requires that, in our education system, certain people fail; it requires that certain people remain illiterate; it requires a digital divide.
This is such an important argument to keep in mind. As we all clamor about the perils of failing to teach digital media in the classroom, we mustn't forget what the likely effect of our teaching will be: to reinforce already existing social inequalities. This is not to say that we are bad people; it's just to say that we are functioning in a system that demands that we act as gatekeepers. Jon, in his post, said something that really hit me when he was discussing his teaching at Brown Mackie. He wrote:
"Even though access to computers and internet is (rapidly?) changing, there are still many that would be considered on the lower end of the digital divide. Joe, the plumber, himself may be such an individual. Certainly, many of the women (and men) I taught at Brown Mackie college (demographically 80% female) many of whom were in Section 8 housing and survived off of state-issued food cards did not have computers in their home. These women may be a statistical anomaly or the self-report data I received was unreliable. Nonetheless, it gives me pause (a cognitive dissonance, a felt difficulty) when I read this article. It may be no surprise that many of the women who did not have computers in their homes were African Americans. "
Here Jon reports that many of his students at Brown Mackie were without computers--and adds some demographic information about these people, who were mostly women of color living in relative poverty. As Jon points out, it is no surprise that those "on the lower end of the digital divide" were African-Americans. I might add that it is no surprise that you would find them in greater numbers at a college like Brown Mackie than you would at Kent State. And you'd be more likely to find them at Kent State than you would at Harvard.
Again this is a pattern of inequality that is structural, that is inherent in the systems that we have created. Dr. King used to talk about an "evil triplet" of racism, economic exploitation, and militarism. For King, one couldn't try to dissolve racism, without also trying to dissolve the other two members of the triplet. We can add to the list a fourth component: educational inequality. And, like King, we must keep in mind that we cannot hope to transcend this inequality without attending also to racism, economic exploitation, and, yes, militarism.
This leads me to discuss many of the solutions proposed by Selfe. Selfe offers that we start changing the way we do business locally in the academy and she asks that we challenge official versions of literacy in our curriculm meetings and standarads documents. Likewise, she calls on us to revise our professional organizations and facilities. All of Selfe's proposed solutions are important; and I agree with her that we must beigin locally.
But one thing that is missing from Selfe's list of things that we could do is protest, demonstration, and the like. I would argue that the "savage inequality" that we see requires more than curricular reform; it requires that we organize and protest--that we make a stink in front of the public, so that these issues are talked about beyond the walls of the academy. I would also argue that we have to raise our collective voices not only about the reforms needed in English classrooms and English curricula. If we truly want to "address the complex linkages among technology, literacy, poverty, and race" (429)--and I'll throw in militarism, too--then we need to be protesting loudly for change in our economic system, protesting for an end to structural racism and interpersonal racism, and protesting wars which only suck up the resources that could be used for such social progress. In other words, we need to start addressing all components of the linkage simultaneously. We need to start merging our academic selves with our civic selves. We need to bring the lessons we learn in the academy to the public, and make public our political vision.
Such a project would require organization; it would require--dare I say it--consciousness-raising. It would also mean challenging systems in ways that would likely put our reputations and careers in jeopardy.
I wonder if I--I wonder if we--we have the courage to make a stink about what is staring all of us in the face.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)