Response to Alexander, Selfe, and Hesse

Multiple Literacies

This week’s readings reminded me much of apprenticeship culture, one that shows students how to make meaning or how to use available means to interpret, think, and participate in a culture. Earlier in the semester, I talked a bit about quilting as literacy. The picture above goes along with this idea as children are learning by looking to their teacher for guidance. In many ways, our readings are calling for this type of instruction; one that does not privilege writing as the only literacy, but takes in to account different ways of thinking and knowing to create and understand rhetorical situations.

In “Gaming, Student Literacies, and the Composition Classroom: Some Possibilities for Transformation,” Jonathan Alexander looks at gaming and its instructions as teaching tools within a writing classroom; he wants games to become “primary texts” in a classroom setting (37). Alexander writes that directed gaming can enhance a student’s critical thinking and engagement. The table on page 55 delved into the pedagogical implications of teaching gaming and the many reasons for giving the medium a chance in the classroom. He echoes James Gee and Gunther Kress’s work as he notes that “games and new media experience can promote not only a toleration of and even interest in cultural difference, but also an understanding of the role of communication in mediating that difference and the role of literacy in working collaboratively with cultural differences in mind” (49). The most interesting point in this sentence is the idea of “tolerating” difference, which, I believe, has to go a step further to truly understand, respect, and negotiate with other voices, as Alexander notes.

In that same vein, Cythnia Selfe’s article created a needed windstorm of energy and excitement in regards to multimodal literacies and an overall look back to the underpinnings of composition studies. In the multimodal event, Selfe notes that composition is “ideologically centered” and serves those who view intelligence as something linked with writing. Other people who may have cultural difference, disabilities, or those who depend on other semiotic means are left in the cold. Her argument, which she acknowledges, is not a new one. In fact, I like this piece because it seems to nicely place all of our readings and observations in to a real world context, one that we are able to see and listen to as people outside of our classroom aurally weigh in on a topic that impacts us. But, before I get ahead of myself, I’d like to address the written debate.

Doug Hesse’s goal in writing a response to Selfe’s initial piece was to “temper Selfe’s thoughtful argument because the practices it advocates entail more than some supplemental tweak of current courses. At stake are fundamental boundaries of our current curricular landscape and our sense of its stakeholders, interests, and purposes” (605). Hesse’s main opinion speaks to who will be impacted by the multimodal changes in academe, which is a valid question. After watching the video conference, however, it seems to me that Hesse is more concerned with a question that Alexander bring up in his piece “ what are we leaving out” by moving to these new literacies” (59)? And probably, how will teachers cope with such changes as they will have to adjust their pedagogical stance (s)?

Selfe’s rebuttal to Doug’s sentiments is one that I agree with. She says that as teachers, we are constantly asking our students to write in different ways and become “life long learners,” but we do not provide the information or the means to promote such, which stagnates the learning process of both ends. What Selfe is calling for is not a complete overhaul of Freshman Comp, but a recognition and gradual incorporation of different modalities in to a classroom setting. Several people who called in to the discussion talked about uses different ways to use some form of technology in the classroom like our own Jim H. and others like Sam and Kathryn.

Although moving to a multimodal agenda can bring up issues of access for many students, and for that matter, many teachers, I think that we have to be innovative in the ways in which we impart information. Rachel Sullivan spoke of the disconnect that she experienced while in a class that did not use images in any way. Sullivan's learning style longed for images to help her remember and recall information. Valerie Lee regaled about how her mother cut the alphabet out of cardboard to help her learn to read. So, hearing these literacy narratives and thinking about the importance of multiple literacies, I hope that we as teachers can recognize the value in apprenticeship methods, while still using writing and other forms of communication so that we can actually practice what we preach.

Response to Donehower and Helmbrecht/Love

The readings this week show in depth analyses of different community rhetorics and the validity of the study’s as they posit ways in which it ideas gleaned can inform pedagogy. Kim Donehower’s piece “Rhetorics and Realities” focuses on rural literacy and ways in which stereotypes have the ability to cloud what one thinks about “true” or acceptable literacies. In other words, the author goes against ideas that speak to rural literacies as illegitimate and highlights these literacies as viable and important to be able to “genuinely participate in … exchanges, considering the ways our student literacies might enlarge our own” (75). Thus, the author takes real instances with people from the mountains of Haines Gap to show the pedagogical implications of working in and out of communities that are labeled or stereotyped as illiterate.

Donehower’s qualitative data is useful to understand as she subtly speaks of hierarchies through her entire document. Her discussions about the new frontier, Davie Crockett, and city v. country literacy speaks to class issues and how people who live in a city (or those who are outsides of the rural community) feel more advanced than those who live in a rural area. I like that she debunks this notion a “better literacy” and proves how rural literacies are ones that are viable and important to the livelihood of community. She also points out that “the situation in Haines Gap, with the stigmatizing power of literacy sponsors, taught informants that literacy was a tool to establish hierarchies of class” (63). This notion is evident to me in Donehower’s discussion of a descendant of sharecropper’s, Ida, who used literacy to write herself into the history of the town. Ida's story shows survival mechanisms and how she was able to do so by using tools of literacy as a means for success. Ida's story and other interviews help Donehower highlight notions of assimilation, appropriation, and rejection in rural communities.

Donehower also discusses hierarchies in a specific way as she speaks about placement within the community of Haines Gap. She notes that “boundary lines are drawn according to family history” that has to do with economics, geography, and whether a family lives in a particular place. Donehower says that those who live “‘up’ on the primary hills, have more status than those who live ‘down,’ in the areas prone to floods’” (63) which can also be related to how people perceive literacy within the community. So, those who live in the higher portions have the ability to send their children out of town for higher education, while the majority of those living in the flood zone remain.

Furthermore, Helmbrecht and Love’s “The Bitchin’ and Bustin’ Ethe of Third-Wave Zines” provides an interesting read because the authors critically analyzed magazines that they felt show “rhetoric in action” (150). They make clear that the genre’s discussed in their analysis have been “given little exposure or credence within academia and the larger public sphere” (152). Their job, then, is to legitimize these zines as ones that are important to teach and understand in academe. Using Burke’s notion of consubstantiality, the writers speak about ethe and how a rhetor is able to best make an argument when they can “deliberately appeal to identification” (153). They note that the authors of the two magazines seek consubstantiality with their audience and their ethe’s are created as a result.

Helmbrecht and Love’s article assumes a type of literacy as the writers model what they speak about in setting up the ethe of their own piece as it relates to feminist zines. They do close readings of each magazine. For Bustin’ they speak about how the magazine is still caught up in its oppression as it parrots western notions about domesticity, women’s roles, beauty, and the lives of women in general which do not speak to all women (and here I am thinking of Bambara, Walker, hooks, Anzuldua, hill-collins, and other feminists/womanists who say that these “waves” were not speaking to women of color). The author’s posit that Bitchin’ is more effective in as it “embodies the feminist belief of listening and honoring multiple perspectives” (160).

I think that what Bitchin does, from reading this article, is participates in the third wave of feminism for Helmbrecht and Love. I gather that the authors believe that the third wave is one that talks and allows students to listen and talk back in a meaningful ways. It seems to me that the third wave of feminism takes bits and pieces from the previous movements, but does so in a way that promotes individualism and free speech rather than a collective spirit of action. The author’s note that “Just as BUST may appeal to the more girly, fun-loving feminist of the third wave, Bitch appeals to the feminist who likes her fun but has just a much … fun critiquing it” (165). This quote speaks to the multiple layers embedded in the third wave, which means to me that the idea of a post-wave is not near. For me, something post assumes that other possibilities are exhausted and that there is little else to consider. After reading this piece and thinking about women in today’s society, there is a lot more than can be done to help women move beyond current situations. The quote also shows that the authors look to Bitchin as a more serious contender for teaching as the magazine critique’s itself, which is a very western notion of what it means to be literate. Because it is a women’s magazine, the idea of critique is one that causes me to think: Has there been real progression for women since the mid to late 20th century? How can terms with histories of oppression be revisited to uplift and motivate women and supporters for/to action? How can women really make strides against western notions of what women are supposed to be? What are the implications for calling the magazine’s Bustin’ and Bitchin’? How can we use women's history month in academe to better serve students?

Response to Lyons and Stromberg

Narratives

This week's readings made me think about different kinds of literacy. From quilts, to bow ties, to spoken word, to academic writing, to journal writing, to body language, to music videos...they all have a space in my idea of literacy. Stromberg's piece, however, brings up Kenneth Burke's parlor example, this idea of equal access and how rhetoric (traditional notions of it) creates a hierarchy that denies people who may be familiar other literacies. So, those who are a part of the larger narrative don't worry about people and things that do not impact their own lives. Stromberg maps out a definition for rhetoric that binds the book as he defines "rhetoric as the use of language and other forms of symbolic action to produce texts ...that affect changes in the attitudes, beliefs, or actions of an audience" (4). So, rhetoric becomes an art that allows Native Americans to name themselves, to be at the table that creates knowledge and has a say so in knowledge dissemination and persuasion. Stromberg's piece sets up an introduction that seems to work for a book that will not only give agency to Native Americans, but allow the creation and negotiation of a narrative that is grounded in Native American rhetorical traditions, traditions that have been around for hundreds of years, but have been denied access.

Lyon's piece echoes Stromberg's introduction as he gets more into this idea of narrative in his article "A Captivity Narrative: Indians, Mixedbloods, and 'White' Academe." He notes that Native Americans are "both sides of the story. They are the story" which speaks to the history of America and how one can be "the story," but not be acknowledged as a part of that larger fabric. I really like Lyon's piece because it is a narrative...he models what he speaks about, infusing multiple identities into his writing. The narrative that he provides about his experience teaching in North Dakota brings up questions of rhetoric and power. The name of the school mascot, this idea of wanting to fight to remove the name, and then this notion of safety if one decides to speak out against cruelty. So, again, we have this question of who is "in the parlor" or at the table? Lyons notes that their has to be a space to "bring the reservation into the classroom and historize Indianness, while at the same time examining nuances of mixblood captivities" (107). He is right because these "safe houses" (Pratt) are places where histories can be analyzed in real, and dynamic ways.

The readings for this week reaffirmed for me the importance of narratives because I view them, like Lyons, as "stories of hope" (88). Thinking about the how "every time we speak or write, the history of contact is quietly (or not so quietly) stirring," I am reminded that it is important to recognize the history in narrative and narrative form (89). It is imperative that when looking to a film or music video, we understand the context and the implicit and explicit messages that are being transmitted. Rhetoric as language consciously used to convey a point, then, becomes even more important as it continues to inscribe history and name...thus, we have to constantly be cognizant of history, how a mascot's name may be demeaning our existence.

Response to Swearingen/Mao and Lunsford

My Experience


When I started teaching freshman composition in the Fall of 2008, I knew that I was entering into a contact zone because I was one, teaching for first time, and two, I was teaching students from a completely different region, culture and background than my own. Although the term contact zone was not the language that I used to describe my experience, that is exactly what it was (and what it continues to be). I think that my most interesting teaching moment that semester had to do with my use of Toni Cade Bambara’s piece “Ice” and a discussion about poverty in the US in relation to MTV’s show, “Cribs.”

“Ice” is told from a child’s perspective and the child narrates a life of poverty, racism, and ageism that she sees in her community. My students did not like “Ice.” They did not really see the point of a child talking about community and her experience. I tried helping them along by writing and reflecting about the story, by analyzing it … that seemed to help a bit. Juxtaposed with “Ice,” we watched several clips of the MTV show, “Cribs.” We talked about the idea of community, how it is portrayed (or not portrayed) on “Cribs” and what should or could be alternatives to showing truth in the media (and we had a conversation about what constitutes truth). Most students identified that “Cribs” portrays the wealthiest houses and niceties of celebrity life because it is marketable; it’s what audiences want to see. For the official writing assignment, I asked students to recreate a scene of “Cribs” using the information that we visited about community and what it means. I had to push students to really go beyond what they saw in the media to research and find information about a celebrity on “Cribs” (or one they wanted to see on the show) to recreate an episode that shows a more realistic side of that person and their community. I also asked them to talk about how concepts learned in “Ice” relate to their episode.

After reading all of the papers, I realized that most of my students did not make the connection that I thought that I was conveying. What I recognized as a problem (about poverty, about media portrayals, and about reality) was not necessarily a problem to the majority of my students … or maybe, they just did not want to write about the problem. I thought that I was engaging in what Swearingen and Mao note as a type of “cross-cultural analysis” (43), one that “pushes [students] up against the evasions, self-deceptions, investments in opinions and interpretations, the clutter that blinds, that disguises that underlying, all-encompassing design” (Toni Cade Bambara). But, there were some gaps. There were some points of misidentification; I did not fully uncover the blind spots so that “binocular vision [could be used to see] us and them through the contact zone” (43). I labeled the project as a failed one because most of my students simply rehashed an episode without really critically researching and taking into consideration our readings and discussions.

I mention this experience because it was all I could think about while reading Lunsford’s interview with Gloria Anzuldua. When the women speak about teaching and deviating from traditional models and readings, I am reminded of what I try to do in my own pedagogy. Anzuldua speaks about this idea of assimilation and how “there is something very seductive about fitting in, and being apart of this one culture, and forgetting differences, and pretty soon instead of subverting and challenging and making marks on the wall, you get taken in” (59). This statement is compelling for me as it states a constant battle to move out of a system that teaches the status quo. I feel like a historian, an activist, and an agent for change, but I find myself facing real resistance when it comes to recognizing real truths of history and how it continues to impact our thinking in and out of the contact zone. So, in terms of my experience, the business was “on Front Street,” but nobody wanted to deal with the business. I think, however, that I made progress with just talking about the issue...by making students aware of the situation.

Andulzua notes that “language is a representational system …but what happens with language, this particular symbolic system, is that it displaces the reality, the experience, so that you take the language to be the reality” (63). Anzuldua’s comments stands as what I was trying to get my students to see with “Cribs.” I was trying to show how media displacing reality and focuses one the glimmer and glamour when there are real issues that need to be looked to. Although this piece is a bit milder than other pieces that I have read by Anzuldua, after reading it, I do have a renewed faith and hope in this assignment. The statements that she made caused me to reflect on my teaching and in many ways confirms my need to to occupy such a space. I have yet to try this particular assignment again (although I do use “Ice” because Toni Cade Bambara she is one of my favorite thinkers), but I hope to revisit the assignment some time in the near future.

Response to Gee and Monroe, II

Gee notes that Discourses “are always embedded in a medley of social institutions, and often involve ‘props’” (my italics 27) which speaks, in many ways, to one’s culture and the identities that work to make that person who they are. Discourse, then, has the ability to move one in and out of a contact zone because it has to do with a type of identification. This idea of identification leads to questions of ideology. Thus, one’s background (which is situated in the historical and the cultural) plays a huge part in how one recognizes and understands a concept.

Gee also says that “the complex relationship among Discourses … define and demarcate individual discourses” (32). I do not agree with this. I think that one’s individual idea is always at the root…it is the foundation for which they can understand. So, my thinking about Discourse is similar to our discussion about home discourse last week. The foundational, historical, cultural implications always play a part in how one is able to view something. For example, it would be hard for women to try to re-claim a word that has been used to degrade them. The B-word is an example. Depending of who says it, it can very negative connotations. Thus, the historical can never be dismissed from that word, but other discourses can be added to a persons understanding of the word. The other discourses that come into play should not negate the individual because the individual informs the collective. Moreover, Krista Ratcliffe, in Rhetorical Listening says that “discourses are invisible to the human eye and yet may simultaneously permeate multiple bodies as when millions of people view a movie” (69). Ratcliffe’s claim uses metaphor to describe how one’s historical/cultural understanding will shape their view of something, which speaks to the individuals perception. This idea leads me into this idea of how technology is perceived, depending on one’s ideology.

Monroe’s chapter “Putting One’s Business on Front Street” takes a close look at a Detroit High School’s interaction with email in the mid-1990s. The Black students worked with mostly white tutors from the University of Michigan with writing through email. What I glean from the reading is that the students had a different understanding about what it means to engage in an email conversation. The tutors viewed it as a private act, whereas the students understood it as a very public act. I think that the scenario alone looks at ideology and points to the fact that people use Discourse based on how they perceive the situation (and their reaction is based on their ideas about the situation). The idea of having “business” aired, especially when one’s history points to a theme of exploitation (in many ways) makes people leery of putting their stuff on blast. Thus, students should not be coerced to write authentic or true stories; however, I think that allowing them a chance to construct how they want to be perceived it the step that has to be taken. Monroe notes that “This power of self-invention and self-fashioning is even more important when students are sharing work online than when they are working on paper” (67). Thus, technology becomes an expressive avenue that allows students to participate in ways that do not compromise their integrity. Thus, if students wish to use signifying rhetoric to express themselves, it should be ok.

Response to Gee and Monroe

Stop the Face Lifts

We understand the social to be a large part of learning places/spaces. The classroom, office hours, writing, and presentations all reflect the social nature of school. Much like Gee’s examples of student writing in “Language and Identity at Home,” how one understands language and how one is able to convey such in the classroom is important. Unfortunately, there is this issue with what constitutes literacy and “correctness,” as we read in Bizzell that resurfaces in Gee. We see this issue most evident as Gee speaks about Leona and the ways in which she shows literacy. He notes “the school will start her apprenticeship on academic language too late --- right when she is ready to be a victim of the fourth grade slump” (35). The problem is systemic and is the result of the school system’s ideologies about correctness and literacy…its failure to acknowledge the historical, and its lack of care, time, and understanding about new voices. The question I ask, then, is how can one exercise genuine and honest social skills in an environment that has been “historically … impervious to change” (Gee 35)? Of course there have been changes, but these changes simply cover the surface level problems ; these changes are face lifts that hide the inner workings of the real problem.

bell hooks, in her first book, Ain’t I A Woman, speaks about this surface level change in a powerful way. She notes, “teaching women how to defend themselves against male rapists is not the same as working to change society so that men will not rape. Establishing houses for battered women do not change the psyches of men who batter them, nor does it change the culture that condones and promotes brutality … Demanding an end to institutionalized sexism does not ensure an end to sexist oppression” (191). What hooks is getting to here is a thorough look into a system, one that includes a matrix of domination (race, class, sex) that continues to oppress, even if the rhetoric points other ways (so there is an illusion of change). What we can glean from hooks is that there has to be an ideological shift in how one thinks, in this case, about learning, discourse, literary, and language.

Monroe calls for a shift in thinking in “Storytime of the Reservation” as she looks to home discourses as ones that shape the way in which a student will perform at school. She talks about literacy as a learned behavior, as one that can be cultivated and praised if the teacher understands the context of the writing. Monroe notes “for students of color, academic literacy is an issue of interethnic communication, and that they need to become bicultural in order to succeed in school” (113) which speaks to having to grapple with multiple identities in order to “make it.” Monroe also says that “the lesson that literacy is epistemology is one that all students --- not just students of color---need to learn English in the classroom” (113). Monroe’s work speaks to an active approach to helping students reach their full potential. First, however, there has to be understanding, on the teacher’s behalf, about the different epistemological underpinnings that ground a student so that they can include classroom practices that help students so that they will not become “a victim of the fourth grade slump” (Gee 35) or a victim of poverty.

Response to Bizzell and Royster

Multiple Academic Discourses

It is compelling to read a third piece by Patricia Bizzell as she continues to make sense of what she now calls “mixed forms” in academic discourse. What is useful about reading her work over time is that she borrows concepts from her previous work to justify or further explain the nuances that are academic discourse; in each piece, she tries to add a new spin on the topic as well. Bizzell says “slowly but surely, previously nonacademic discourses are blending with traditional academic discourse to form the new “mixed” forms. These new discourses are still academic in that they are doing academic work of the academy” (2). She also says that new “discourses are gaining ground because they allow their practitioners to do intellectual work in ways they could not if confined to traditional academic discourse” (3). I think that these statements are interesting as Bizzell continues to make distinctions (playing into an old system) in her own language use about multiple discourses. Moreover, her new spin (or example) in this article has to do with a closer look as a history professor’s work on race and lynching in the South.

What I find fascinating about her use of Joel Williamson’s story is that Bizzell includes information about who reviewed the publication and why they chose to accept it or reject it. Further, she points out that there were three reviewers, one white female and two black males, who were more familiar with “mixing forms” and using/reading alternative discourses. Although there were problems with the tone Williamson’s piece, the lack of historical research (including voices from other researchers who have done similar work in the field), as well as the military metaphors that Williamson makes, according to the mentioned readers, his work was still accepted (I guess it was because it met the traditional idea of “correctness”). However, I think that there are some missing pieces here. To whom is Williamson writing? Is his writing for the entire academic community about the historical, how the historical impacts the psyche of Southern white men …is it written to a general public? I think that it is interesting that Bizzell does not go into detail about how Williamson engages in mixed form writing (as she does with Villanueva in an earlier piece). It is evident, to me, that there are some problems with Williamson’s work in this particular article.

Furthermore, Royster’s piece “Academic Discourses or Small Boats on a Big Sea” brings readers back to the origins of their own thinking, the root of the problem. She makes a huge point about how labeling has helped academics grapple with academic language and the variations within it, but she notes that “over time these binaries have also engendered a since of primacy” (24). I think that she is right. Although labeling has helped us to understand language, culture, and ideas, in a new way, it has also helped to undermine the point of understanding language, culture, and ideas in a real way because it creates a hierarchy. Thus, Royster calls for readers to move their thinking by “acknowledging the inconsistency with which we have accepted what we know about the nature of language and the formation…of language communities” (24) and to give up assumptions about discourses (or what constitutes a good discourse….lists).

I like Royster’s article because it does not talk about alternative discourses or mixed discourses as separate from the traditional. However, she uses the term multiple academic discourses to show that engagement happens in a lot of ways and that one should not be privileged over the other. Royster’s focus on pedagogy, then, is valid because she wants teachers to help students negotiate gaps that academia has “ignored as a sea because we could” (28). Royster’s article brings up a good question about change…will academics actually engage in new methods, new ideas and new pedagogies to create possibilities and opportunities for multiple viewpoints?