04 February 2009

Understanding our courses...

Today at the book fair a first year TA said, "Do we have a critical thinking course?" Without even a pause I said, "Yeah, 101 & 102." There was a round of tittering from other first-year students. I found myself giving a much condensed version of last night's rant. Really, of all the changes being made...it should be ensured that everyone teaching 101 & 102 knows they should have a critical thinking component. Grr. Arrgh.

03 February 2009

Professional Disagreement

In order to avoid working on my prospectus, I’ve spent some time perusing other blogs or incessantly checking my Facebook page. Since she is now working in a new setting a friend (Italian at Heart)started a new blog about her teaching. I understand her joy at being in a new department, but I want to point out something.

In her blog the IaH mentioned that at her new school composition is clearly labeled as, and clearly understood to be, a service course. She also said that everyone here at her old school “was so caught up in making sure tat the course wasn’t designated ‘service,’ they really lost focus that it WAS A SERVICE COURSE!”

The IaH used to teach at the junior high level. Her experience with the requirements made of teachers and students at that level would make teaching writing seem like a service course. I mean that when the goal of a course is meeting certain benchmarks any course becomes a service course.

However, at the University teaching writing (composition) carries both a different function and a different history. The failure of this department does not lie in the desire to make sure that composition is not a service course, but the failure of the department to really explain why composition should not be seen as a service course.

There are several reasons for not thinking of composition as a service course, which I have to note does not mean that grammar or writing basics are ignored. The easiest place for me to start is to ask you to step back for a moment and imagine a general education course in mathematics. No one would expect that if you took Math 101 you were ready for Accounting 201 or Chemistry 320. Why is that? Well, because while both Accounting and Chemistry require math, they require different types of math. Math 101 just cannot do it all, which is why Accounting and Chemistry have their own beginning courses.

Since writing is such an integral part of so many disciplines it becomes easy for the history professor to say, “I can’t believe these kids can’t write. What do they learn in Composition?” In that moment the History professor forgets that History as a discipline actually asks students to write in a very different way from English. The DH and I cannot read each others papers because the way our disciplines (History & English respectively) use verbs and voice is so vastly different. I tell him to take out all the passive voice and he tells me to put it back in. The same is true of the writing in Chemistry, Dance, Theatre, etc. It boils down to the same problem as the fictional Math 101. Composition cannot teach every kind of writing.

So, what does composition teach?

Well, I believe that composition should teach critical thinking. I don’t teach my student about the rhetorical triangle in a vacuum. I teach them about the rhetorical triangle because it is a tool for them to use when reading anything – Math, History, Dance, and more importantly the assignments they receive in those courses. When they leave my composition class, they are not ready to write in any discipline; however, they are, hopefully, ready to read and understand any discipline.

Isn’t that a service to other disciplines? Why does labeling composition as a service course matter?

As I have explained there is the perception among other disciplines that if there is a section of the University teaching writing, then it is no longer their responsibility to teach the writing that is important to their field.

The history of Composition and its place within the University are an element of this discussion as well. If you are really interested in this topic you should check out the work of Eileen Schell, Nell Noddings, Gary A. Olson and Susan Miller. Historically, Composition has functioned as an underling to “English” which stood for Literature. Historically, Composition has been taught by women and graduate students. These are groups who would do such intensive work to free-up the tenured faculty to teach courses in their specialty and/or research; they would also do the work at a much cheaper rate. Keeping women in these “service” courses was one way to allow women into the academy, but not allow them to participate fully in all of its functions.

As Kenneth Burke taught us, we view the world through terministic screens. The language we use to build those screens matters. When we label one particular course subservient to others, it keeps the people who teach those courses also subservient. The movement to recognize Composition as a field was a movement to remove that subservient status. When we continue to think of Composition as a service course it is a disservice to all of those who worked long and hard to make sure that what we do in the classroom matters as much as anyone else in the field of English.

Advice....

Subscribing to a professional list-serve has often been a pain, but I'm too lazy to figure out how to unsubscribe and everyone once in a blue moon there is something interesting on there. Yesterday, someone asked people on the list if there were any job letter errors that would ensure an applicant didn't get an interview. Since I hope to go "on the market" next year, I thought this would be a good thread to follow.

Unfortunately, so far...and I'll admit I haven't waded through all the responses, the majority of advice has not been about errors but about tailoring your job letter. If a letter is too generic or boilerplate they either don't read it all or can't figure out why the candidate might be good for the position. Now, this is good advice, I'm not trying to advocate for rote letters. It's just the advice that is always given...at least around here. I'm well steeped in why I need to make the job letter count -- why I need to make sure it tells the committee why I fit their job. That's not exactly the advice that I need.

I know not all departments are like mine, but I do have to day that in spite of all my recent complaints, they do a good job of making us "marketable." I know they want us to get jobs to keep up their placement rates, but I think there is a genuine desire to help us figure out what it is that makes a position work for us. That is important, as one respondent pointed out,
"When graduate students have flubbed, it's often because their letter entirely unexceptional -- I can't see any reason to interview them over the other 30 ABDs in the pile. (And, FWIW, I think this was me when I came out of grad school!). At that point in your career, I think it's often tough to see what distinguishes you from your peers.
And yet, looking back, I can now see what defined me at that stage in my career -- and it's clearly what got me my first job. So it may help to talk with mentors and friends about what makes you "you," professionally speaking."
My letter may end up entirely unexceptional, but I think it will be for other reasons. Our faculty, at least the ones I work with, do a good job of helping us figure out 'what makes us, 'us' Unfortunately, I think part of that process happens now, where I am, while writing the dissertation. A lot of my problem is that I don't necessarily know who I am professionally. Partly, that is because I have many different interests. Writing the dissertation forces me to choose to priviledge one of those interests over another. It's not something I've ever been good at. There is one piece of advice I saw on the list which made me nervous. One person wrote about the candidate that tries to represent too broad of a field. I think that if I were start writing letters now, that would be an issue for me. My areas of interest are broad. My skills are broad. My experience is broad. When I apply for a job, I hope to bring all of those things to bear. Hopefully, I can find a way to demonstrate that without appearing vague, or unfocused.

'

02 February 2009

Irritation?

You know, when hiring/firing people I often find it best to just give them a schedule to let them know they've been hired. Certainly they wouldn't want to know they've been hired before they get a schedule.

At the watercooler...

Well, we don't really have a water-cooler, but my office will do.

Since my job was "simplified" late last semester, I've maintained a pretty low profile around the department. Once before the semester started I stopped by to say hello to the new DC. The other day, I commented that I hadn't seen her and I needed to stop by again so she knew I wasn't avoiding her.

Here's the deal - She is avoiding me. Really. She just walked through my office, which isn't supposed to be a pass through, looking for someone. Granted, she could have been in a hurry, but she barely even stopped to say hello. She didn't even give a reason for being in a hurrry.

Whatever.

I am not really upset by this. It's just intriguing that she doesn't seem to want to see me. Maybe she sense that their move was wrong, whatever its motivation.

It's Dr. if you're nasty

It's not exactly a great start to the day. At least for once I didn't wake up at 7:30am, the problem is I woke up at 5:15am. I took the puppy out and tried to get back to sleep for about 40 minutes before giving up to go make some coffee and oatmeal.

Then I opened the email and this article from the LA Times came through. In case you can't get to it. The article is about how "pompous" it is for Jill Biden to expect to be called Dr. Biden when she only has a PhD in Education. I understand it's historic for a second lady to keep her day job, but if you really want to get all worked up about that then really talk about it.

Don't just thrown in as an aside the paragraph about how little she'll make as an adjunct faculty member.
McClellan declined to say exactly how much Biden would earn, but said she was teaching 10 hours a week and that the range of pay for her adjunct position was $900 to $1,227 per credit hour. (That means each semester her pay could be from $9,000 to $12,270.)
Point out the fact that this "not that much amount" is what most adjunct family members LIVE ON. Or maybe that she is making that much IN SPITE of the fact that she got her PhD, IN SPITE of the fact that she has 20 years of experience.

Or, maybe we should talk about the fact that she chose to work at a community college and what that means for everyone involved. Jim McClellan, the Dean of Humanities and Social Sciences at Northern Virginia Community College, (notice how unlike in the article I showed respect for his position by capitalizing his title --you, know like you should for anyone) said,
"She could have done anything with her time and make a difference, but she chose to teach, and teach at a community college. That says to our students that they are important and that community colleges are an important piece of the American educational system."
The article doesn't pay much attention to what McClellan says, but I like that he equates teaching with a way to make a difference. Dr. Biden did her time in school, took the exams, wrote the dissertation all of it. She deserves her title. Notice how the article includes the title of Lynne Cheney's dissertation, but not Dr. Biden's.


Don't even get me started on how undervalued the Community College system is in this country. It's a personal soap box.

01 February 2009

Sunday Thoughts....

  • I like going to the library with a list in hand.
  • I do not like doing research in the library.
  • I think the guy at the coffee shop was intrigued that a girl could carry so many books.
  • I also think that he shouldn't read "chicken soup" books in public. "Really who does?"
  • Maybe he was just bothered because my library books were a little more intense than the Chicken soup stuff.
  • I knew there was a reason I like to buy Washington State wines.
  • The corkscrew broke. But I'm no Long Islander - it wasn't my fault.
  • My ear finally cleared. Yeah!
  • It really sucked not to be able to hear out of my left ear.