Critical Studies

Ann George's article called "Critical Pedagogy: Dreaming of Democracy" invited me to look back on my days as an undergraduate.
I learned a great deal about critical pedagogy through my coursework in educational theory and policy. Specifically, George's commentary on Kozol's "Illiterate America" make me think about the function of public education, and how the history of education might support his argument.
Today, we still see a manifest pattern of upward social mobility among the upper-classes and downward social mobility among the lower-classes. I use upper and lower-classes here to avoid the confusion in our reading based on the oppressed and the oppressor.
How much of an effect does this social mobility have on the quality of education for these groups? Historically, professional education (in a broad sense) was limited to the upper-classes. Still, some of the lower and working-class citizens utilized apprenticeship programs and trades skills in an attempt to travel up the ladder of social mobility.
According to Kozol, and Shor to an extent, these practices remain with us today in primary, secondary, technical schools, and community colleges. Many students are led to believe that hands on practical experience leads to success in the future. This idea generates a few questions worth considering:
1. What is success? Does it mean something different to each person?
2. Do these programs and institutions produce "a large pool of skilled workers for a shrinking number of increasingly deskilled jobs?" (George 95). Is this really the problem, or should we consider the value of these professions in our society at large?
3. What role (if any) does meritocracy play in the educational outcome?

Cultural Studies and Composition

I've been thinking about the issues surrounding composition and gender since the beginning of the semester when we had to read the Bedford Bibliography piece. I've pondered over a few of the very same issues Nedra Reynolds addresses in the George and Trimbur reading. For the most part, her view of the "all male narrative of cultural studies and composition" holds its own weight when we look at the mainstream discourse in cultural studies.
Historically speaking, the rhetorical accounts of cultures past and present assume, and often emphasize, the male experience. From elementary school to college, we're taught about famous writers, presidents, politicians, inventors, and painters - most of whom happen to be (white) men. Where is the woman's voice? Women of all social statuses deserve recognition and the right to be heard. What about the poor and other minorities? Thankfully, composition and rhetoric scholars seriously considered these questions in the 1980s. They stimulated and spawned various cultural studies including the experiences of many people who never had a chance to take part in the academic dialogue. College classrooms are only in the beginning stages of real cultural exchange, while elementary, middle, and high school students have a long way to go before they experience significant multicultural education.
The Bedford Bibliography supports Reynolds' argument. Noting that multicultural studies only started gaining significant ground in the 1980s when composition scholars studied the cognitive processes of writers, and sought to discover how the writer's social circumstances affected their writing ability. In the long run, researchers opened the door for marginalized groups to raise their voice and be heard through the power of rhetoric.

Class Activity With Jessica and Ray

This is in response to Jessica and Ray's activity at the beginning of class last week.
Without any hesitation, I started writing about what I desire - simple enough. I didn't consider writing about the definition of desire or what it means to me. I didn't feel any pressure at all to write during the first half of the activity, and I enjoyed having the freedom to write about the way I feel.
The second half of the activity, however, was a different story. I looked at the quote and thought, "what does this mean?"Between the confusion and having a time constraint, I just randomly took words from the quote and tried to create a meaning out of different thoughts going through my mind.
I didn't know what to think about my writing until Julie raised the question, "what is our task assignment?" Both parts of the activity no doubt encouraged us to write, and both resulted in different writing styles. Still, I think it's important to note that I would have written a completely different response to both parts of the activity if I had a specific assignment. For example, the leaders might ask, "what does desire mean to you?" or "what is the meaning behind this quote?" I didn't know our task assignment (not to say that we had or needed one in particular), so I just wrote about anything that came to mind.
Great activity, Jessica and Ray =~) You really made me think about some important issues in composition and teaching.

Elbow, Emig, et al. continued

Elbow and Emig both discuss the important connections among talking, writing, and learning. Elbow's evidence supports the connections between writing and talking, while Emig focuses on writing as a learning mechanism. However, I think it's important to find a common ground between Elbow and Emig's arguments. This is most obvious in their discussion about talking.
Both authors emphasize the fact that talking is an important part of the writing process. I really wish my composition teacher would have encouraged us to use speech when formulating ideas for further inquiry. Emig points out that "talking is a valuable, even necessary, form of prewriting" (Emig 8). Likewise, Elbow suggests talking as a way to go from no words to words. Sometimes the most natural, organic solutions to writer's block seem beyond our grasp. But we only need to strike up a conversation to get the prewriting juices flowing!

Elbow, Emig, et al.

Elbow's discussion about felt sense made me think about something I experienced last Monday in another class. I felt as if my idea didn't come out quite the way I had anticipated. Consequently, I turned to the lady next to me and attempted to explain myself. I'm not sure if my experience was necessarily felt sense or a bad case of confusion. I might avoid these problems next time by pausing to make sense of my nonverbal knowledge before commenting. In the future, I can pass this information down to my students, and teach them how to monitor their own "internal standard of how well their words reflect their insight" (Elbow 16).