Strangers in a Strange Land

Zamel, Vivian. “Strangers in Academia: The Experiences of Faculty and ESL Students Across the Curriculum.” CCC 46.4 (1995): 506-21. Rpt. in Writing Across the Curriculum: A Critical Sourcebook. Ed. Terry Myers Zawacki and Paul M. Rogers. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2012. 246-60. Print.

As the title makes clear, this article’s focus is on both student and instructor perspectives of ESL matters, which, as Zamel argues, is especially useful given greater interest ( some may claim “concern would be a better term in some situations) in matters related to ESL students. As part of developing faculty workshops, Zamel surveyed faculty regarding their experiences with ESL students. What she found was that the main concerns of faculty across the university indicated a deficit view of ESL students, claiming they were “problems” to be “fixed.” She argues that we need to move beyond this deficit view at all levels and in every department in the university to provide more meaningful education to not only ESL students but to all students.

To illustrate the concerns she has, Zamel brings in feedback from both teachers and students. She begins with examples of feedback from two teachers to illustrate the divergent views of ESL students and their needs. The first response challenges the myth that language skills equal abilities to achieve academically, argues for attention to content instead of superficial matters, and relates significant student success in one instance. The second response highlights the deficit model of language, a view focuses on superficial elements of writing, adheres to a belief in the gatekeeping system, and claims language instruction to be someone else’s responsibility thereby separating language skills from course content.

Zamel also addresses student concerns in these matters. Many of the ESL student responses she received discuss classes that made them feel marginal and deficient. These students want recognition for the hard work they put in to learning both content and English, want instructors to view them as capable and intelligent, and want instructors to meet them halfway by working with them in terms of language and reevaluating their classroom practices. Instructors, then, must recognize the need to question their classroom and evaluative practices, which, as Zamel correctly observes, would benefit all students, not only the ESL students.

While this article may have some years on it, it is not dated, for both problematic and promising reasons. Although greater awareness and moves toward focus on student success may be changing faculty views of ESL students, some faculty, unfortunately, may still adhere to variations of the deficit models. In response, Zamel suggests we turn such problematic views into opportunities through educating our colleagues; evaluating our pedagogies through the eyes of our students, including (and perhaps especially) ESL students; and working together to develop practices that improve learning for everyone involved.

Cultural Biases of Common FYC Practices

Ramanathan, Vai, and Dwight Atkinson. “Individualism, Academic Writing, and ESL Writers.” Journal of Second Language Writing 8.1 (1999): 45-75. Print.

The authors of this article remind us how easily we take for granted certain pedagogical approaches and practices and that those practices may conflict with the backgrounds and culture of some of our students. Ramanathan and Atkinson argue here that many of the core practices of composition classes (especially required FYC courses) rely on a culturally-specific individualist mentality that may be problematic for those students whose home cultures are more communal. As a result, these students may struggle to meet the goals of the course effectively.

Ramanathan and Atkinson focus on four common composition pedagogical practices that are underwritten by individualism. They first address voice--and at some length, which was perhaps more appropriate at the time. (While voice is still a common point of focus in composition instruction today, the social turn in composition studies has certainly curtailed expressivist practices.) While maybe slightly dated now, this section does offer two interesting perspectives on the consequences of seeking one’s “authentic.” First, this may conflict with notions of the individual as part of and subservient to the goals of a community common in more communally-oriented societies (e.g., China). Second, this practice can make these students feel that they need to craft a different “self” as a way to meet the instructor’s expectations about “authentic” voice.

Perhaps of greater interest are what the authors identified as potentially problematic ideas and practices that appear on many FYC syllabi (including mine): peer review, critical thinking, and authorship issues (i.e., plagiarism). Each of these, the authors contend, has roots in Western individualistic culture. Peer review requires one to challenge the work of another; some students (Chinese students, in the authors’ examples) found this practice potentially harmful to the coherence of the peer review group and/or felt they were not in the position to judge their work. Critical thinking also relies on cultural frameworks that these students may not possess, and critical thinking’s emphasis on challenge may upset some students’ views on the need for harmony and consensus. Finally, the authors point to the Western perceptions of authorship and creativity as unfamiliar to students whose cultures value “how much [students] have internalized of the transmittable traditions of their culture” (63). Thus, plagiarism (as Westerners would define it—though the authors argue Westerners have trouble with this too [62-63]) is not viewed as necessarily wrong.

As the authors note throughout, the important matter here is not that we should make sweeping generalizations about individuals based on their particular culture. However, we should be cognizant that the practices and objectives of our classrooms, especially the more common practices, have particular cultural biases, ones that may negatively affect students who are not “insiders” in that culture. Therefore, we should examine those practices common to FYC in relation to the actual students that are in our classes in an attempt to determine which practices may be of most benefit to our students.

Introductory Post

Hello everyone, and welcome to my blog. As you can see, I have interests in a variety of pedagogy matters and am looking forward to adding a section on L2 matters.

My name is Nathan Serfling. I am currently a third-year part-time PhD student at Old Dominion University, where my emphases are rhetoric and writing studies, and writing pedagogy. I have special interests in online writing instruction, rhetorical theory and writing pedagogy, and faculty development and other administrative matters. I am also a full-time instructor at South Dakota State University (SDSU). There, I teach Composition I and Composition II, as well as the occasional Introduction to Literature.

SDSU is a mid-sized (about 12,000-13,000 students) Division I school. However, the population is relatively homogenous—mostly middle-class, white students from South Dakota and the surrounding states. My experiences with multilingual students have been relatively limited as a result. I have had only a handful of multilingual students over the years. While I did have more interactions with multilingual students as a tutor in our university’s writing center, even these were experiences were few and limited in scope. As SDSU continues to grow, though, we are attracting a much more diverse student population, and I anticipate that my limited experiences will multiply quickly.

This brings me to the focus of my blog in this section. My home department is small and consists of mostly literature faculty. These faculty teach some sections of Composition II, and GTAs, adjuncts, and full-time instructional staff teach the bulk of Composition I and Composition II courses. I am hoping to use my readings here to explore issues of faculty development (both within departments and across the university) regarding L2 pedagogy with the ultimate goal of extending the pedagogical skills and practices of my colleagues.

And the Debate Goes On: Lundberg and Gunn's Response to Geisler

Lundberg, Christian, and Joshua Gunn. “‘Ouija Board, Are There Any Communications?’: Agency, Ontotheology, and the Death of the Humanistic Subject, or, Continuing the ARS Conversation.” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 35.4 (2005): 83-105. Print.

In Lundberg and Gunn’s response to Cheryl Geisler’s piece on the ARS convention (see my previous post), they raise the concern that Geisler’s “report” had less to do with accurately reporting on the metting than arguing against the postmodern (or posthumanist, to use their term) views of agency. They argue that Geisler’s attempt to locate agency in the agent is a problematic attempt to maintain a view of the agent as autonomous and a mistaken conflation of the agent with agency. Such a view, they claim, is narrow in its conception of agency. They also characterize as narrow Geisler’s representation of posthumanist theories.

They begin their discussions likening the agent/agency relationship to the playing of an Ouija board, establishing an indeterminate view of agency. (After all, any one player or some other worldly spirit may be moving the planchette.) This indeterminate view represents for them the more postmodern view of rhetorical agency. Rather than trying to locate agency within the subject or the rhetor, they argue that agency can and does exist in a number of potential agents. The subject, too, is influenced by a number of external influences and is thus “produced” (86), making it harder to claim that the subject can always have agency.

But rather than this “problematized” sense of agency leading to agential paralysis or precluding the possibility of the agent having any rhetorical effects, they claim that the posthumanist view examines the agent/agency relationship as only one trope that allows us to investigate and interrogate these ideas (98). This is part of their desire for a “restless and relentless thinking” (98) about subjects like agency to add multiple, complicating, and ultimately illuminating layers to that idea.

In many respects, I find their discussions thought-provoking. I, too, agree that a continual examination of the relationship of the agent and agency and of the possibility of locating agency within entities and forces beyond the sbuject will give us a deeper understanding of them. However, I tend to agree with Geisler, who in her response to this piece, claimed that this theorizing does not really get at her pedagogical concerns about rhetorical agency (109). Indeed, theory takes a dominant place in Lunberg and Gunn’s article, and I too wondered where the rhetorical rubber is to meet the pedagogical road. Certainly, theorizing agency will ultimately serve many benefits in developing how we view and analyze agency, but we should not theorize exclusively or at the expense of pedagogy either.

Work Cited

Geisler, Cheryl. “Teaching the Post-Modern Rhetor: Continuing the Conversation on Rhetorical Agency.” Rhetorical Society Quarterly 35.4 (2005): 107-12. Print.

The First Shot of the Geisler and Lundbeg/Gunn Debate on Agency

Geisler, Cheryl. “How Ought We Understand the Concept of Rhetorical Agency?: Report from the ARS.” Rhetoric Society Quarterly 34.3 (2004): 9-17. Print.

Geisler claims her goal in this brief article is to recount the meeting of the Alliance of Rhetoric Societies (ARS) meeting that addressed rhetorical agency. Specifically, this meeting developed into a discussion of how to combine the interpretive practices of rhetoric with its productive ones, especially in the wake of postmodern critiques of agency that had weakened or threatened the importance of rhetorical agency. As she “reports” on the meeting, though, she challenges those who claimed that rhetorical agency is illusory and ultimately argues that rhetorical agency is crucial for educating students and for the future of rhetoric as a discipline.

Scholars at the ARS meeting generally agreed on two issues. One was the definition of rhetorical agency: “the capacity of the rhetor to act” (12). The second area of agreement was the idea that postmodern critiques of the possibility against rhetorical agency necessitated renewed discussions of it. She notes that some of the postmodern critiques are applicable to public rhetorical agency, but she claims that the greater access to agency that “subaltern groups” have and the growing questions about agency because of new media are creating an atmosphere in which rhetorical agency may need to be considered in entirely new ways.

In addressing these critiques and the new directions of agency, the attendees addressed the illusions of agency, the importance of the rhetor’s skill, and the conditions of agency. The last two she covers relatively quickly. Regarding the rhetor’s skill, she addresses Jasinski’s claims of viewing the rhetor as an orchestrator who must bring together and respond to fragmented and contingent circumstances (a combination of autonomy and external influences). In her discussion of the conditions of agency, she mentions the discussions that centered on the material and historical constraints that influence rhetors today. But she focuses mostly on illusions of agency. She notes that some, like Joshua Gunn, argued that agency is an illusion and as such we should acknowledge this and “directly [confront] our irrelevance” (12). Such a move, she argues, not only makes the educational mission of rhetoric nearly impossible (if students don’t have agency, how are they to act through rhetoric?) but will also remove any potential for change and any meaningful responsibility for people to act. Thus, rhetoric cannot focus only on its interpretive mission; it must also include a productive mission as well.

While this article consists of fewer than ten pages of discussion, it is densely packed with some useful synopses of some of the most significant discussions about rhetorical agency that have been taking place over the last few years. She makes a strong case for the need to tie interpretive modes of rhetoric to productive ones, especially as they inform educational practices. Furthermore, she offers some sense of how postmodern ideas of contingency and fragmentation can and do work with notions of rhetorical agency. However, as I will address in my next blog post, some who attended the ARS meeting felt Geisler misrepresented some of the discussions took place.

Neurons, Obama, and Rhetoric--Oh My!

Cooper, Marilyn M. “Rhetorical Agency as Emergent and Enacted.” CCC 62.3 (2011): 420-49. Print.

Like Leff in my previous blog posting, Cooper examines rhetorical agency as an idea called into question and seeming more unlikely (even impossible by some accounts). But rather than specifically examining the role of tradition as a means to recuperate ideas of rhetorical agency like Leff, Cooper examines the possibilities of more recent notions, especially complexity theory and neurophenomenolgy to examine how agency is both autonomous and collective, both conscious and unconscious.

Complexity theory positions rhetorical agency within a system of multiple agents that interact with one another in a sort of perpetual “dance of perturbation and response” by which the agents influence one another (421). Neruophenomenology—which I must admit is a concept I need to reexamine more fully—“combines neuroscience and phenomenology to develop understandings of cognitive processes and brain dynamics as embodied nonlinear self-organizing systems interacting with the surround” (421).

Cooper uses this combination of ideas to analyze President Obama’s speech on race that he delivered in Philadelphia during his presidential candidacy. She argues, first, that rhetorical agency is both an active response by an individual to a particular situation (emergent) and a series of unconscious neurological processes and internalized contextual understandings (embodied). Second, she argues that both rhetors and audiences are active agents in the process of persuasion. Rhetors often view themselves somewhat incorrectly as causing action or persuasion, though she says this is necessary for our ability to act and to be willing to act as agents; instead, she claims that persuasion also rests in the audience members’ reception and evaluation of the rhetor’s language. Thus, while the rhetor does maintain certain, significant amounts of free will, she/he has a responsibility to the audience to view them “as responsive beings who [. . .] will understand or assimilate meanings in their own way” (441).

As a side note, though my grasp of neuroscience’s role in rhetoric is rather tenuous and too limited to offer a strong evaluation of Cooper’s use of it in her argument, I can say this is one of the more approachable pieces on “neurorhetoric” that I have encountered at this point. More to the point, despite some of the claims reminiscent of the cognitive arguments that developed at the height of the process movement and Leff’s analysis of classical rhetoric’s view of audience (see my previous blog post), Cooper’s article offers a sense of new directions in the considerations of rhetorical agency—ones that bring to bear the new understandings of the interactions of the biological, the psychological, and the social aspects of communication.

821 Blog 2: What's Old Is New

Leff, Michael. “Tradition and Agency in Humanistic Rhetoric.” Philosophy and Rhetoric 36.2 (2003): 135-47. Print.

Michael Leff’s attention in this article is the connection he sees between “tradition” (or what we might term classical rhetoric) and rhetorical agency. In particular, he is interested in exploring the tension of individual rhetorical agency and the influence of community on the rhetor. From his perspective, the rhetorical tradition serves as a sort of mediator between the ideas of writing as an individual and writing as a member of a community (or writing for an audience in general).

Leff establishes his sense of the postmodern conceptions of both tradition and agency by claiming that postmodern views oversimplify how traditional/classical rhetoricians actually addressed agency. For example, he points to postmodern claims that clascial oratory was unidirectional (from the rhetor) and that the audience played an essentially passive role. But he notes that these views are inaccurate to the realities of traditional rhetoric. While he acknowledges that many rhetoricians of the classical period did address (quite strongly in some instances) the importance of the rhetor’s ability to persuade (even manipulate?) the audience, he argues that classical views were much more complex. Leff instead provides numerous examples (from Isocrates to Cicero) of rhetoricians discussing the influence of the audience over the rhetorical choices made by the rhetor. Thus the rhetor is both shaped by the community and an individual participant within that community. He looks to Isocrates as an example of this, particularly his address on changes to Athenian democracy he hoped to see initiated. Isocrates carefully selected his sources and worked within the expectations of the community not to upset their perspectives on democracy but to advocate for the changes he wanted.

Though brief, the historical context that this article provides on rhetorical agency is quite helpful. It complicates the views of traditional/classical sensibilities as more social than many tend to think of them (or at least as he claims some tend to think of them). His focus on classical rhetoricians underscores the importance of the rhetorical past, advocating that we cannot and should not shrug off tradition simply because we have “new” perspectives that we think conflict with past notions. However, I feel that Leff approaches some of these complicated theoretical notions too briefly. He accuses postmodern theorists of oversimplifying the practices of traditional rhetoricians, yet I feel he does much the same to the postmoderns, suggesting in a few sweeping sentences to have captured their entire view of classical rhetoric. Indeed, this fosters the very sorts of neglect that concern him. Perhaps what we need is not only a willingness to examine past theories more deeply but present ones as well.