Lunsford: Cognitive Development and the Basic Writer

In her essay, Lunsford attempts to analyze the reasons that basic writers are unable to "get out of their own heads" in the classroom, and abstract the concepts or draw inferences from the material they learn. She then offers ways in which teachers of basic writers can adjust the structure of the classroom in order to address and alleviate these issues.

One idea I absolutely agree with in this essay is that writing classes (especially for unskilled writers) should not be lecture-based, but rather should be intensely focused on student participation through their own writing. The example Lumsford offers is, instead of simply explaining what a semi colon is and its function within a sentence, have students perform exercises in which they must place semi colons in the appropriate places. This is, by far, a much more effective teaching method. Student engagement is essential in the subject of writing in the same way it is essential in learning to ride a bike or play piano: you can't just idly observe others doing it and expect to learn how to do it yourself, rather you must pick up the pencil, grab a piece of paper, and actively engage yourself in your own learning/teaching.

Flower and Hayes

The part I found most interesting about Flower and Hayes' discussion was when a writer "monitors" their work, switching between one process and another. I never realized it, but that process (along with many of the other processes they mentioned) is something that I do all too frequently when I'm writing. I'm never afraid to say to myself, "Well this is trivial" or "This sounds cliche," and I suppose in a way I was telling myself, "Don't write trivially," and "Don't use cliche language." In this way, although I often feel as though my writing process is disorganized, there is some kind of subconscious method to the madness.

The experiment the authors conducted in which they instructed writers to compose their thoughts out loud was also intriguing. I'm not sure I would be able to verbalize exactly what goes through my head as I plan my process, because I often feel as though it's chaotic (although Flower and Hayed did prove otherwise). Even as I write this paragraph, I'm concidering what I would say out loud if someone were to ask me to explain what I'm thinking and where I plan to go with the rest of the blog, and to be honest, it probably would sound like I have no idea what I'm doing. When I start to think too hard about my writing, it begins to feel forced. I'm much better at figuring out what I'm trying to get across by seeing my ideas on paper. Of course, this wouldn't be the first time that I've believed that the thoughts in my head are better left unsaid.

Literary Autobiographies: Part Deux

Caitlin: First of all, I think it's incredible that you were writing books as a kid, and I think you could expand on that a lot. Do you remember what your writing process was then, and how does it compare it to now? I also really liked how you rebel against the idea of an "important book," because I think that through all of the English and writing classes we take during the course of our education, we learn to search for things like theme and tone and structure and we lose that ability, I think, to just sit down and enjoy a well-written book.

I think you could definitely use more scene/dialogue dispersed throughout your essay, just to change it up between anecdotes. Were there any specific moments when you realized something about your own abilities or specific style? Any important moments with your parents or a specific teacher?

Sam: I definitely feel for you when you were talking about your first real struggle as a writer coming from attempting to write a personal essay. I know we discussed this in class, but I always find it so difficult to explain my own life on paper without it sounding false or cheesy. (I think that's why I enjoy fiction so much, you can get as personal and in-depth as you want with someone you make up.) As for the list you made, instead of just putting them out there with no explanation, maybe just choose one or two and create a scene with them. Like Caitlin's, I think your autobiography needs a scene or two to break up the anecdotes. They can get rather weary.

Liam: I was intrigued by your paper from the very first paragraph, as you discuss the feeling of being in control of a stickshift car. I think it sets up your whole discussion very nicely. I think it's really interesting how you had such a frustrating time learning how to read as a kid. Like Josh, you didn't take to words the old-fashioned way, and I think it says something that you are both now such strong writers.

You have such a unique writing style, and I very much enjoyed the way you tell your stories. I could relate to your feeling that your thoughts and ideas came out of some "nowhere" place. I often feel that my best writing comes from when I just relax and and allow the slow process to manifest on its own.

I'd like to hear a little bit more about your family, specifically your mother. I could see you exploring the very sad statement she made about forgetting words (I'm assuming she means words in German), which I think signifies a kind of loss of culture, loss of her past. That's just me, though. I think we can learn a lot about ourselves by looking at our parents.

Literary Autobiographies: Part One

Ava: At first, your autobiography seems to be moving chronologically, starting with your parents' insistence that you speak properly (an experience I can attest to), then moving on to reading and eventually writing. It takes kind of a sudden turn when you go back to talk about where your parents came from. Although I've heard you tell me the story of how your parents ran away together before, seeing it on paper makes me love it even more. I especially like how you say that if it weren't for your grandmother's wrath, you and your siblings might never have been born. It's strange sometimes to think in those terms, but it's totally true, and the whole anecdote is well-written.

Although I think your transition into your parents' history came a tad out of left field and away from your story, I think you transitioned back to yourself very well. Your parents are a big part of how you came to be you, and I think their story IS necessary in there. Overall, your whole story came full circle, and I feel like I've gotten to know your whole family. =] (oh yeah, an emoticon was needed)

Josh: I think you probably had the most unorthodox educational experience ever. Just to think that your could crochet and speak French before you could read English is just astonishing. I love the theater story, as you already know; it's an adorable and relavent story, and I like how you tie in your ability to be a "talented listener" as your way to beat the system.

I'm interested to know what exactly you thought about going to the "gifted" school. We know that your mother blames it for your lack of interest in reading, but you don't seem to take a stance on it. Do you think things would've turned out differently if no one had ever refered to you as "gifted"?

Also, when you're telling the story about the parent-teacher conference, I had a couple of questions. I wanted to know how old you were by this time, and also whether you COULD read and chose not to, or if you were still illiterate at this point. I think if I knew these things, I'd have a better idea of just how serious a reading problem this was.

Alex: I thought it was so funny how you were one of those troublemaking little kids who was only a troublemaker because you were smarter and therefore bored with the lessons. Totally misunderstood! I also found it interesting how many similar experiences you and I have had, like the love of scaring the shit out of our friends at sleepovers, or playing "pass the story" over a campfire, which I did with my brother and cousins when I was little. All of these little anecdotes about your Dad's lessons illustrate a lot about how your writing skills developed, and I liked the angle you took that most of your abilities came from outside of the classroom.

There was one small thing that bothered me. When you said, "I got a C- even though I'm sure my creativity level was far above the other 8th graders..." it sounds a little pretentious. I'm sure your Charles Manson essay WAS much more interesting to read than the others, but you might just want to tweak your wording.

Writers of all kinds! Perl & Sommers

I found that Perl's research, though clinical and difficult to wrap my head around at times, brought a new light to our common misconceptions about unskilled writers. She says, "Since the written products of basic writers often look arbitrary, observers commonly assume that the students' approach is also arbitrary," which is a mistake that can lead to inneffective ways of helping them improve. We assume that they simply lack the basic knowledge about the rules of syntax, spelling, punctuation, etc., when the problem is much more complex, and therefore attempting to teach (or reteach) these rules would be futile. The rules are there; the participants demonstrate a knowledge of the basics. What needs to be addressed is not what is on the page, but rather what the mental process is that converts thoughts to writing. For instance, there is a disparity between what the students would say aloud verses what came out on the page, that participants would "read in" words, or edit their work so often that they would impede upon their own writing process by losing their train of thought.

I think this study relates back to our discussion about how we teach (or don't teach) the process of writing. There is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to learning how to write effectively; each individual has his or her own needs, and therefore their process or forming thoughts and converting them to writing will be different depending on the person, as well as the subject they're writing about.

It was interesting to make that jump between Perl's research of unskilled writers to Sommers' article about much more experienced writers. The comparison between student and professional writers was clear: students think revision means, essentially, editing. When they've written something, they think the work is done, that the idea is already there, and it just might need tweaking. Professional writers, however, never appear to see their writing as complete. Their revisions are drastic, and each draft presents new ideas.

Maybe it's just me being a lazy "student writer," but I found their whole process exhausting. I got tired just from reading about it. I suppose, though, that their process does have merit; a true writer should never get too attached to a first draft, but should see it as something that is full of potential.

Why and How We Teach Writing: Murray & Emig

Have you ever been having an intense discussion with someone and started saying something without having much of an idea about how you were going to end your statement, or the point you were going to try to make? We all have. There's always this vain hope that, if we just keep talking, the point will eventually come to us, and we will be revered for our intellectual greatness. Obviously, sometimes the situation doesn't work out that way, but what I'm saying is this is an important form of learning that both Murray and Emig discuss in their articles, a technique that writing so successfully endorses. Writing provides a way for us to slow down a little, to discover the meaning in what we're trying to say, and unlike speech, allows us to go back, reformulate and bulk up our statements. Writing, indeed, is a completely unique form of learning in that it gives us the time and freedom to say what we really mean, rather than passively taking in information through reading or listening, or blurting out the first thing that comes to our minds when we speak.

Writing, of course, is a completely individual process, so the main argument appears to be: How can it be taught? What's the point of becoming a good writer?

My main argument is that the ability to think for ourselves is invaluable, that the creative process that we each experience is an art, and is what makes us individuals with very different things to say. Suddenly we are more than just people who can take in information and regurgitate facts and figures; we become our own voices with opinions and ideas that have never been seen before. Of course we think communication is essential in our society. Why not, then, is being an articulate communicator valued in the same way? To answer the main question: yes, not only can writing be taught, it can be SELF-taught, and can allow us to come up with ideas we wouldn't be able to otherwise.