Sunday, March 21, 2010

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?

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