After two articles that I specifically chose from College English, I decided that today’s installment should come about via article roulette, as originally intended. So, for this round I decided to pull a random journal off the shelf, and I opted to go for a little TETYC this time. TETYC may very well be my favorite journal—I appreciate the practical, and often immediate, application it offers my teaching. So, I went to the shelf and grabbed a journal. I skimmed the titles and laughed at loud (and loudly at that) at what was within. So, here it is folks:
Article 3:
Cook, Devan. “Revising Editing.” TETYC 29.2 (2001): 155-61.Print.
I, of course, appreciated the luck of selecting Devan’s article off a shelf of well over a hundred journals, but it became quite clear to me why I had to read this particular article right now. Kismet, fate, or just dumb luck paid off! Here’s the context as to why I needed this article right now: this fall I’ll be teaching English 201: Nonfiction Writing for the first time, and I have spent a great deal of time over the past few weeks trying to pinpoint the purpose of this class (and the obvious question is, “why plan your summer class that starts in a little over a week when you can obsess over the class you’ll be teaching in the fall?”). E201 has garnered a bit of attention lately—I’m not the only one who isn’t quite sure how this class functions in the grand scheme of the curriculum. After reviewing the outcomes for the course, my question has been, “how is this class different from 102?” Based on the outcomes, there are two differences I can tell:
1. We’re supposed to teach a formal argument model. (I do teach argument in 102, but not a formal model.)
2. There’s a greater emphasis on style. (In 102 we get so focused on teaching the basics of conducting and writing about research that there’s often little room for discussing the flare of how to go about it with style.)
I am probably the most excited about the opportunity to really focus on style in 201, but this has left me with the question about exactly how to go about doing it. How would I fold that in with everything else we’d do in class? Would there be “style days” (and, would I require students to where their most stylish outfits on these days—best shoes or hat winning a prize)? I’ve been digging through style manuals (as I mentioned in my last post) and have to find the answer about how to teach style. Enter: Devan’s awesome article.
Devan describes how she goes about teaching editing AS revision, as opposed to being two separate activities. She highlights a few awesome texts early on: Dawkins’ “Teaching Punctuation as a Rhetorical Tool” (awesome article that Devan assigned to us in our grad class on grammar), Kolln’s Rhetorical Grammar (super awesome book that I’ve read at least seven times—by necessity because the awesomeness was too much to gather on one, two, or six reads), and the Hoffmans’ Adios, Strunk and White (which definitely solidified for me that I MUST read this book!). After a little theoretical grounding, Devan digs into the practical application of this information—her attempt at teaching editing as revision in one of her FYW classes.
What I appreciate most about Devan’s approach to this (and everything, really) is that she selected a few key bits to focus on: she wanted her students to learn to use the semicolon, colon, dash, and dash skewer. This seems super manageable to me, and I have a similar approach in my teaching. Here are the three grammatical bits I teach in all of my comp classes
1. Independent clause (the basis for everything else I teach when it comes to grammar)
2. Coordinating conjunctions (FANBOYS—holler!)
3. Conjunctive adverbs
Devan required her students to go to the library to read random periodicals and analyze their styles. After this activity, her students asked a damned good question: “If people write this way every day, why didn’t someone teach us how?” (156) I often ask myself that same question, wishing someone would have taught me how to write before I made it to grad school. I thank God every day I had the teachers I did in grad school, or I still might not know how to write. (Related tangent: I learned how to really use a dash in Devan’s class, and it freed my writing. I remember saying as much to Devan in class once, and she said that made sense—she couldn’t picture me not using dashes since I spoke in dashes.) Back to the students’ question, I’ve often wondered the same thing, but decided that many teachers expect students to absorb style through reading a lot, and I do think that works to some extent, but a conscious teaching of style would sure work a hell of a lot better.
Devan created an assignment (which she also provided in the article—another reason why I love TETYC) in which she required students to revise their punctuation for rhetorical effect. She later reflects: “Being asked to make purposeful punctuation choices introduced purpose as a viable personal concept to some students for the first time; before, their purpose for writing may have been limited to the fact that it was required” (157-58). Some students resist this, of course, because it’s hard (which makes it even more necessary for a style guide to be interesting and perhaps even entertaining at times—like a spoonful of sugar).
I am excited to use this assignment in 201 in the fall. It clearly answers my question: no, you do not need to have “style days”—divorcing style for content is antithetical to good writing (and good writing instruction, at that). I still hope to find a way to require all of my students to wear their most awesome shoes on the same day, though.
Off for now,
mk
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