course history - two paragraph version (with intro.)
Here is a 2 paragraph version of the course history segment, prefaced by a one paragraph intro. I would be glad to revise any of this if the theme, tone, examples, etc. are wrong.
Of course, after mucking around in the history of the class for several days, I find the 2 paragraph version completely inadequate! So, below the 2 paragraph version I have pasted a 5 paragraph version, just in case you want to see a few other ideas available to us by reviewing the history theme.
LS
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Today for those of us in composition studies, a course on writing with computers does not seem like an anomaly, especially if it is one writing course amongst many in a writing curriculum that stretches well beyond first year composition. After all we have --- years of disciplinary research in computers and composition, and we have specializations in this writing with computers at the Ph.D. level. Yet, few of us would anticipate that such a course would be placed at the heart of a writing major that is driven by attention to composing processes, critical theory and rhetorical traditions. Somewhat to our surprise, that is exactly where our version of such a course is now situated: as one of the first required courses students will take as they pursue our new degree program in writing and rhetoric. Situating the course in this way indicates that it has moved from the margins to the very center of the curriculum, a move that prompts us teachers of the course to interrogate it all over again, reconsidering its design and its raison d’etre, particularly in order to understand what are this course’s inherent central principles that stretch all the way through a writing major?
One place to start answering that question is to consider the history of this course as it has unfolded in our program. That history puts us on the trail to an answer, even if it does not fully resolve the question of "inherent cetnral principles." In a very early iteration of the course, which we refer to as WRT 235, we focused on the practical/utilitarian needs prompted by a new writing technology and on how "to use the computer to add depth to each step of the writing process: inventing, drafting and revising.“ Nine years later we totally revised the course, calling it “Writing in Electronic Environments,” and signaling a radical departure from the practical writing assignments and expressivist-process pedagogy of the earlier iteration. Now, we focused on the social and cultural elements that seem to drive the way writers interact with this particlar writing technology for the purposes of self-expression, self-representation, harvesting of information and communicating. The syllabus was organized around themes (for example “The Internet as a Technology for Representations of Oneself,” or "The Internet as a Technology of Electronic Democracy") that invited critical thinking about the ways the technology instantiates writers into surprising roles and identities, and how these are linked to writing behaviors, habits and demands that are purely digital in origin and execution (such as web pages, list serves, blogs, face pages, chat rooms, etc.). With this iteraion, the couse seems both more substantive and thoroughly digital.
This “mini” history seems to imply that by its later iteration, the course had found its inherently appropriate content, centered on its own processes and genres of writing, and is appropriately situated squarely in the center of our writing program’s curricular concerns--composing processes, critical theory and rhetorical traditions. For us instructors of the course, however, when we design the syllabus and assignments by using analytical methods derived from either critical theory or composing theory, we are still using central principles derived from non-electronic writing environments to drive an electronic writing course. Surely, if the course is worth being at the center of the writing major, things should be the other way around: At least some of the theory and analysis shaping the course should derive from principles inherent to the nature of writing in an electronic environment. We are, therefore, pondering, yet again, a new iteration of the class, one that really tangles with what we mean by writing in an electronic environment. In essence, what do we mean by “environment”? Are the concepts entailed in “writing environment” robust enough to form a central principal for the course, and can it redound through the writing major, generally?
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5 paragraph version.
One place to start answering that question is by considering the history of this course as it has unfolded in our program. This course, which we refer to as WRT 235 and which has had three different official iterations in our university’s catalog, keeps evolving. Each iteration was initially prompted by practical-utilitarian concerns and rationalizations, but the day-by-day teaching of the course and our observations of students’ writing with computers gradually, inevitably refocuses the course around critical and theoretical concerns of composing and communicating with, through and within advanced writing technologies. For example, the first iteration of this course in 1991 was based on the rationalization that:
Students entering a variety of fields (business, journalism, engineering, resource management, education and public relations) may be expected to write and produce a variety of texts with the computer. In addition, they maybe responsible for supervising, coordinating or leading others who are using the computer to write or publish documents.
Because of this rationalization, a major assignment for the class asked each student in the class to visit a work site in order to study how computers used for writing in that setting.
This practical/utilitarian orientation stayed in place until next iteration of the course, which occurred within two years. This iteration, called “Writing with Computers,” focused on the ways in which composition research alerted us to “how the computer changes the writing process, how it transforms [a writer’s] view of text from static and linear to fluid and hierarchical, how graphics may enhance text or be irrelevant, and how [it facilitates writing] as part of a team.” Clearly, the practical/utilitarian aspects of the course, while still present, were becoming secondary or, more accurately, were becoming a means to thinking about the nature of texts and about composing practices, including, according to a standard syllabus, “helping you [the student] to use the computer to add depth to each step of the writing process: inventing, drafting and revising [ . . . ] seeing text as fluid, an opportunity for play and open ended exploration . . . “ With this language, the course was clearly more theorized and driven by the insights and pedagogical savvy gained from forty years of writing-as-a process research and practice. These changes, however, did not make the inherent principles of writing with computers a driver of the course. Indeed, the opposite was still true: writing process research and theory, including expressivism, was driving the course.
By 2000, however, the title of the course became, “Writing in Electronic Environments,” signaling a radical departure from the nine-year history of a course anchored in practical writing assignments and expressivist-process pedagogy. This next iteration was prompted, in part, by our day by day, week by week, observations of our WRT 235 students’ writing on list serves and e-mail, in their rudimentary web sites, in their appropriation of others’ texts when researching, and their desktop publications. These artifacts offered evidence that much more was changing than the writing process. Slowly but surely, the course became more and more focused on the social and cultural elements that seem to drive the way students interacted with this technology for self-expression, self-representation, harvesting of information and for communication. In this third iteration, the course was driven by themes that invite critical thinking about the way the technology instantiates writers into surprising roles and identities, and the way these are linked to writing behaviors, habits and demands that are purely digital in origin and execution. For example, when students’ study of the theme “Technologies of Writing and their Effects on Writers and Writing,” the assignment is the writing of an essay in Two Technologies, One digital, one non-digital; when they study “The Internet as a Technology for Representations of Oneself,” the assignment calls for setting up and keeping of a web log (blog). Furthermore, whatever themes are selected by the instructor, conscious attention is given to critical analysis of the popular, social hopes and promises of that use of the technology, as these were challenged by the students’ actual experiences as writers.
With these themes and concerns, the course in its third iteration moved more firmly to the center of our writing program’s curricular concerns: composing processes, critical theory and rhetorical traditions. Indeed, naming the course as a required as part of the major in Writing and Rhetoric seems to confirm its central place. But, once again, there is pressure for the course to revert its earliest conception, a course anchored in practical demands This course is central to a writing major because, said our colleagues, it is students’ first exposure to those writing tasks that we expect our graduates to be able to do: to develop an electronic portfolio of digital documents that presents their best work from their courses and through which they represent themselves as skilled rhetoricians, writers, editors, and text designers. In other words, the course is central to the major because it serves students’ practical needs in their career setting!
For us instructors of the course, however, the “how-to” of electronic writing is no longer a substantive focus or rationale. In addition, we realize that even though the course has evolved to include attention to composing processes, critical theory and rhetorical traditions, we recognize that the analytical methods derived from critical theory and rhetorical traditions currently push the course through its readings and assignments, similar to the course in its second iteration, when it was driven by process theory. But surely, if the course is at the center of the writing major, things should be the other way around: the inherent nature of writing in an electronic environment should drive the course. We are, therefore, pondering a fourth iteration of the class, one that really tangles with what we mean by writing in an electronic environment. What do we mean by “environment”? Are the concepts entailed in “writing environment” robust enough to form a central principal for the course, and can it redound through the writing major, generally?
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2 Comments:
In this comment, I'm responding to Linda's last 2 posts and her comment on Mike's "Wikitravel" description:
Wow!
Linda, you've added substantially to my thinking about our effort here (and about WRT 235 more generally) by schematizing the history of the course into a number of "iterations." Also, you've done an impressive job of integrating the elements you mentioned in your last set of posts: Yancey's ideas, WRT 235's place in the major, and our colleagues ideas about the course's place in the major.
If I've read you correctly, you're arguing that our latest iteration of the course will work in a certain sense against general expectations for it AND against our colleagues' expectations for it, refusing both a "skills approach" OR mere service to the major. Instead, WRT 235 offers URI's students a glimpse at the major's central teachings.
What these teachings are, exactly, I suspect we'll work out through our discussion of the environment concept. The major you start to describe, which puts (electronic) writing environments at its center, reminds me a little of Yancey's ideas about a redeveloped composition studies, and I think we'll make more of this connection as we develop the draft. Yes?
Let me add how impressed I was with the way you work with the different focuses of WRT 235's iterations to produce a layered approach to the current course. In my reading, one WRT 235 iteration contributes the "process" part of our current apporach, one iteration contributes the "critical" part, and the latest iteration contributes (or will contribute) the rhetorical/genre part. I'm very attracted to such a conceptualization for many reasons, not least because it echoes my teacher Stuart Selber's (2004) similarly layered conceptualization of teaching writing with computers.
Your history also suggests the evolution of WRT 235 with the evolution of composition and computers and writing as fields. I think we could trace the "disciplinarity" of the course pretty easily using citations I have on hand: Selfe's early edited collections on computers and writing exhaustively explain the movement from "process" to "critical" approaches, and the current literature (e.g., WIDE, Selber) more than adequately suggests another shift is under way toward "rhetoric." I think we can make a good argument that we're way out on the leading edge on this.
BUT: Selber, for instance, warns against the too-easy dismissal of (some) "skills" approaches in his chapter on functional literacy: students need a chance to learn "the basics" in a sophisticated way. (More authority: James Paul Gee, too, warns against marginalizing "authentic beginners" in literacy classrooms by assuming they have skills and comptencies they simply don't have.)
So, while I like the tension you set up between others' expectations for WRT 235 and our understanding of the course, I'm a little worried about how we want to articulate our refusal of a "skills" approach. Put another way, I think our layered approach to the current iteration leaves out something like Selber's "functional technological literacy" at its peril.
My 2--
JD
JD, thank you for your sensitive and patient reading of the history paragraphs. Your extension of those thoughts into Selber's work makes perfect sense and adds the kind of disciplinary resonance such a history certainly needs. I am more familiar with Yancey's thinking, a reference point you also note.
About the tension regarding basic tech. literacy: This is an issue you keep coming back to, and each time, you help me see it more clearly. We--in our three-way discussion of the article-- certainly need to explore this further in order to decide how to handle it.
I see this theme as a fairly complicated once we start to pull at it. For example, "basic' or "entry" computer literacy keeps changing, doesn't it? (And here I am limiting my comments to "how-to" issues. If you are talking about computer literacy in an expanded sense of that term, that is a different discussion.) Early on in the history of the course, we aimed to improve and assist with word processing—call it what you like, but when we were talking about moving around paragraphs, and being fluid with text construction, we were probably really teaching word processing on computers. Now, today, that sounds silly as a substantive topic for the course. What happened?--all kinds of things in our ed. system, our economy, with the technology, with students’ learning the technology, with our understanding of writing and technology, etc., etc. The same thing is going on now, but with building a blog or a website or an electronic portfolio. I think these tasks--as how-to tasks--will inevitably and always (and already?) become easier, rendering our teaching them (or teaching to them) silly.
Another complication: writing classes are always facing that "how-to" tension (how to write a business letter, how to use the apostrophe). The tension is always there, pulling at me, for example to teach the rules of the apostrophe, to give guided practice and drills, etc. But we have gotten farther in our understanding and pedagogy and disciplinary stature by looking at other issues connected to writing and, sometimes by going against the "how-to" frame (i.e. free writing). Does this mean I never teach the apostrophe? No, I give it some attention to it, sometimes, but not as a starting point or as a rationale.
One other concern: This theme is like a black hole. We could disappear into it, and never come back to the interesting core theme of the article: What do we mean by environment? If the history section as written pushes us away from that question and into the literacy question, then I/we need to redo the history piece. However, if we can acknowledge that theme as a legitimate and complicating issue, one that might even be a little illuminated by our exploring the concept of "environment," then the history piece is on the right track, at least for now!
LS
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