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?