The Preaching, Practicing, and Strategies of Revision


Before I dive into the more analytical thought that blossomed from reading the assigned articles, I feel that I must reflect on my revising processes as a writer. With this, I choose to be honest and reveal that I do not revise very much. I hate it. When I sit down and write something, I never force myself to. When I write, I have carefully constructed plan in my head after taking time to consider all of the information at hand and what my options are to do with said information. Thus, when I am done, I feel confident about it because I have rendered a careful response – I don’t. need to revise because I have thought about all the mistakes I could have made and did not make them. Here is the problem: I am not omnipotent (this is a huge problem). As I begin to write more than I ever have, I find that sometimes I do need to revise, and it is fine. But why do I not want to do it? Maybe I will stumble upon the answer here…


From Witte’s Preaching What We Practice: A Study of Revision (2013), a high school history teacher who participated in the study stated, “My seniors are very much caught up in editing mechanics and grammar, as opposed to really rethinking a piece of writing or thinking about what that vision for that piece of writing is,” (42). This very much stood out to me, and closely relates to what I will be discussing in a couple of weeks. Student gets caught up in the surface level issues like spelling or using the wrong form of there, their, or they’re. They fix the issue so the paper looks a bit better aesthetically, but they sometimes do not understand the larger issues that may be at hand, such as organization or clarity. Thus, I think the issue that this article points out is that we have to teach the students how to identify these bigger problems (not to be interpreted that mechanical issues are not big issues, because they can be sometimes) within their own writing before teacher after teacher points it out and the student is left with red all over not knowing how to fix it (though I will present on ways on how we can encourage how to fix these problems efficiently soon!). Does this all relate back to the letter grade we all anticipate when receiving an assignment back? Or is this discomfort and lack of wanting to revise simply because we do not do enough?

Not only do we not do it enough, the medium in which our writing is communicated matters, too. The conversation of the growing importance of digital environments really interested me. Specifically, that many of the teachers that participated in the study felt that students would more likely revise if their writing were to appear in a digital space. Not only does the chance that their writing will be viewed by someone other than their teacher or even their peers be a different yet efficient form of motivation, but also the factor of interest, too. Students’ worlds today are based largely online and what they watch, post, hear, and learn from the communities they are building. They want their work to be out there. It no longer becomes a quick communication between teacher (the higher power, so to speak) and student, but rather a more equal environment where the student takes their learning into their own hands… it becomes more than just an assignment that only one person reads – it will now live somewhere intangible, unlike the papers students are used to handing in printed and stapled, to forever inspire so long as the internet lives!


Interestingly, Sommers points out that revision is a word that teachers use, and they reference to their own editing by other means, such as “reviewing”, ‘scratch out and do over again”, or “redoing” – and most of these refer to surface level changes, with the most referenced change being word choice. Further, these changes are only made because that’s how far they feel they are able to go when revising a paper; they are not comfortable scraping the whole paper and rethinking it to better assert their ideas. They are restrained to only fix syntactical errors, and anything larger will be subsequently left to fester simply because it goes beyond better wording. Here, it is understood that the student process is linear, a line that comes from the student and follows to an assignment to be handed it. Though, experienced writers see the beyond – the beyond that holds the realization that the overall vision can, and will, change.

Where have we, as teachers, misstepped? Sommers discusses the difference between the student writers and the experienced writers by experience, but not all students will reach this level if they do not continue to write. How can we show them how to realize their bigger picture? If we show students how to flip between writer-view and reader-view, will this allow them to be able to revise efficiently? If we have more than just a teacher reading their work, will they forget about mandatory criteria, to an extent, and play with their ideas? It does not always have to be point A moving directly to point B, but maybe point A sidesteps to a point A2, and then to point B, and maybe even a point B2. Why is writing only x, y, and z? What about all the space in between?

Our “Field Trip” to SCRLA (Special Collections Research & Library Archives)

Exploring SCRLA:

Safe to say our visit to SCRLA – the Special Collections Research & Library Archives – was an inspiring field trip. Part treasure-hunt, part “memory lane”, our brief exploration of the holdings opened up our imaginations together. I appreciate your engagement last night as we explored artifacts and documents of our shared past. As you now know, archival sources can be manuscripts, documents, records (including electronic records), images, artifacts, recorded sound or moving images, or other materials. Archival data can provide access to material and voices that are hidden or missing from the established sense of history, opening up a rich and diverse range of information that may not be available elsewhere. 

What is held in the archives can become “hidden treasures” – portals that provide a glimpse into a more complex past. There is so much research opportunity in SCRLA! What might be in store for us in terms of contributing to the Digital Commons? What might be there for you to spark further research work? I look forward to thinking about this resource further with you as you consider what work to engage in as you move through the MA program.

Slides meant for last night:

Your to-do list:

We didn’t quite get to the full agenda in the slides, and that is ok. I am happy to keep going (from where we left off last week). Thanks for another batch of truly thoughtful blog posts this week!

What to do for next week? Please read:

Blog #4 is due before 10/3: Reflections on Daniel’s above reading selections regarding our first theme of “revision in writing”. 

**Daniel will kick off our “Presentation Series” next class when we see each other again in CAS 406. In order to prepare for your upcoming presentations this semester, be sure to check out the slide I have included (in the deck above) which reminds you of the general protocol,. Also, you can look at the course syllabus (on this website) if you need further description for your “presentation prep”.

Enjoy the weekend

Philosophizing on Writing Pedagogy

Peter Elbow and Donald M. Murray love writing. Much like I love writing, and most of you love writing (don’t say I don’t know my audience). It takes someone who loves writing to understand how to teach it this well. You have to have an itching desire to spread what brings you joy.

Promoting low stakes writing in classrooms in order to supplement high stakes writing is an excellent way to teach the writing process and allow students to build the confidence for high stakes assignments. My concern is that everyone who has been involved with the writing and revision of this theory has probably loved writing, or at the very least pedagogy.

I would like to look at this theory from the perspective of someone who hates writing; I want to see this idea from the perspective of a students who hates school.

When Elbow asserts that the ability to convey understanding is of equal importance to the understanding itself, I may argue that I can convey my knowledge, just not in writing. Or, that according to Vershawn Ashanti Young, I do not need practice in conveying my ideas how the system has deemed they are supposed to be written out.

Then I stop in my tracks, and realize I have lost sight of my perspective, because no student that truly hates writing references Young to explain why.

Peter Elbow broaches the concept that speaking feels lower stakes than writing. Students do it constantly, at recess, at lunch, in class- it’s a challenge for them not to talk. Speaking feels lower stakes because we are not openly evaluated when speaking. In fact, you have to watch the other person closely if you want to pick up on how they’re truly reacting to what you’ve said.

Writing is permanent, and expressionless. Not in the sense that nothing is expressed, but that there are not gestures, or facial features, or intonation to express tone and emotion. All of that has to come through in rhetorical technique and grammatical choices.

But, just because nobody can use a red pen to show you where you’re “wrong” in your speech, or how you could change it to improve your communication, does not mean that you are not using rhetorical techniques to be perceived a certain way. That also means that everyone uses rhetorical analysis on a daily basis in order to perceive one another. Yes, I know, terrifying. Rhetoric is simply unspoken in the physical world, as opposed to the written world.

With a recorded thought you can go back and re-analyze, re-read, and the thought stays the same. There is no shifting language, the idea cannot be forgotten, misconstrued or warped by the passage of time. The spoken word is subject to the human memory, which is heavily impacted by perspective and time. Anyone can lie about anything, there’s no proof to go back to.

All writing is high-stakes is you consider it’s permanence, and that is why many struggle to force themselves to do it. It feels unnatural in comparison to talking to a friend. I think to expand on this idea I would ask about where the boundaries of low stakes writing are. Is texting low stakes writing? If so, I think incorporating written communication between friends into the classroom could do a great job of encouraging students to enjoy low stakes writing.

This also leads us to the question of what “good” writing is, and if “academically correct” and “good” being synonymous has some classist and racist undertones. Peter Elbow draws attention to the line between the importance of understanding and the importance of being able to convey your understanding, but I would argue that most can convey their understanding. They simply may not be able to record their understanding in a way you deem intelligent or respectable.

But I’ll save that for Vershawn Ashanti Young.

High/Low Stakes Writing and Process vs Product

Peter Elbow’s article “High Stakes and Low Stakes in Assigning and Responding to Writing” brings up a lot of interesting points. These blogs are an example of “low stakes” writing. We are able to express ourselves informally and casually. These blogs are a way to share ideas and thoughts in a safe and comfortable space. There were a few points in this piece that I found very interesting. One point in particular was in the section responding to writing. Elbow makes a compelling point about feedback that reads, “Researchers have trouble finding good evidence that our comments on student writing actually help students learn more or write better”(Elbow 4). He then elaborates on the tired state in which most educators critique and grade work. That kind of shook me because you always think you are getting the best response from a teacher because they are an authority figure in your life and in many cases their opinion holds a lot of weight with the student but when you consider the fact that they are humans and are grading homework after a long work day, you have to think am i really getting the best advice?

After considering Elbow’s points in different responding techniques, I found myself pondering on what I would prefer as a student. As a college student, I used to tell my professors to “rip it apart” when I handed in a draft. I wanted them to revise my work and give me an honest critique because I wanted the best grade. I think I always attached my value as a person to my academic successes. I never really cared about what I was writing or the content I was writing about because I wanted the best grade I could get. That being said, after reading this article, I wonder if I had just let go of the grade and opinions of my professors, would I be a stronger writer?

While Elbow’s article talked about the different levels of production and responding to a students work, Murray’s “Teach Writing as a Process Not Product” touches more on just that, prioritizing teaching the writing process over the final product. What I noticed is that both of these articles have the same underlying message regarding feedback. In Murray’s article, he dissects the art of teaching process vs product. He feels strongly about allowing a student to take control of their writing process. Murray shared various “implications of the teaching process”, as he put it. These implications have different outcomes of how they could be useful for educators. One that really stood out to me was the fifth one. “Implication No. 5. The student is encouraged to attempt any form of writing which may help him discover and communicate what he has to say. The process which produces “creative” and “functional” writing is the same. You are not teaching products such as business letters and poetry, narrative and exposition. You are teaching a product your students can use now and in the future to produce whatever product his subject and his audience demand.” (Murray 6). I thought this implication made a lot of sense because who cares about how the prewriting section looks? If the final product is done as far as the writer is concerned and they are happy with the end result then what does it matter how the writer chooses to prewrite?

Week 3 Writing as a Process, and High Stakes and Low Stakes Writing

a road that has a bunch of trees on it

On Peter Elbow:

As I read Elbow’s article, one quote that stood out to me was: “Low stakes writing helps students involve themselves more in the ideas
or subject matter of a course. It helps them find their own language for the
issues of the course; they stumble into their own analogies and metaphors for
academic concepts.” I thought about my students and how I am trying to incorporate more low stakes writing in my lessons. I’ve found that even when I give a low-stakes writing prompt, questions like:

“Is this for a grade?”

“How long does it have to be?”

“Does spelling count?”

always seem to surface. I can almost always see the student’s face light up when I tell them not to worry right now about those things, as long as they answer the prompt/ question as best as they can, with as much detail as they can. I find that the result of this writing provides a glimpse into how a student is thinking about that concept or prompt more than when they were concerned with the grade, length, or spelling.

On Donald Murray:

I can definitely get behind the notion of teaching writing as a process and not a product. I have found the system of “prewrite, write, rewrite” to be taught in a linear way, and I don’t feel this process is completely linear. As we think, and then put words on the page or screen, are we not always in some state of revision?

I’ve also found that this quote holds true for most things: “you don’t learn a process by talking about it, but by doing it.” Hopefully the practice of this revisionist process leads to better products(writing), so I guess the positive way to see this is that we can only get better the more we do it 🙂

Comments & The Process


As a student given the privileges of a teacher, I find myself in an odd position; one where I understand the uncertainty that comes with reading evaluating comments from a teacher while also sometimes wearing the hat of the teacher that writes the comments. With this, I have come to realize that pedagogy, in a way, is a double-edged sword (literally): either you are being stabbed with it, or you are the one doing the stabbing (even if inadvertently).

To begin, Elbow brings the student perspective into view. He describes the weariness students have of high stakes writing (pieces that are graded and have an immense weight on overall grade in a class), and validates the fear that seems to be imbedded in many pupils. With this, he pushes the idea of frequent low stakes writing (writing that is not graded as harshly, or at all). It is argued that this low stakes writing will not only have the students practice more, but will allow them to prove to themselves they are capable of writing clear thoughts down. By taking away the weight of a number or letter being assigned to what they write down, the student is able to immerse themself in what they write and ultimately showcase their true, unfiltered thoughts.

As a student, I thank Elbow for his thoughts concerning this. When I engage in low stakes writing, and I do not expect anything particularly great to come out of it, there always seems to be one good idea that I can take and create something more out of. If we ask students to sit down and write something with strong ideas and clear language, something overall fantastic, the overwhelming duty to perform hinders the otherwise “mundane” thoughts that could turn into something great.

As a teacher-in-training, so to speak, I find that Elbow’s ideas are certainly helpful, and allow me to sympathize with the student more (which is an odd observation for me; you would think I would already be sympathetic being a student too, but I find myself to be quite the harsh grader). For example, I helped my professor grade what she described to me as a writing sample, something that seems to lean towards the low stake scale, but did not advertise this to the students. Thus, we got a mix of informal responses with very formal ones. This created quite the jump while grading, and I found myself writing comments on the more informal ones about being lost in a run-on or overall organization. Though, these were the ones that had the most personal feel to them: they used voice. The more formal ones, though littered with strong evidence and great sentence variety, seemed dull. This makes me wonder if we had told the students that it was a writing sample, just to see how each student operates, would the responses have been different? None were perfect, but with the ease of knowing that it was low stakes, would the student be more confident in composing it? Elbow thinks yes, and I am leaning that way too.


Murray emphasized the idea that writing is a process and not a product. Meaning, writing is not an act in which you start and you finish. There is a finish line at some point, whether it be end of the semester or publication, but the writing itself continues to live, and the thinking, done by the writer, does not concede.

As a student who was taught the prewrite, write, rewrite method from early on, I find that I tend to skip over the first step and greatly rely on the second and third steps (prewriting occurs in my head, so maybe I do not really skip it?). Though, I think that with any writing, as Murray explains, there is exploration. Unless the piece one is writing is personal, then one is more than likely not an expert (yet). Not only does the student explore the topic in which the content will reflect, they are exploring the way in which the writing will come about. This is one of the more important aspects to remember, as the whole point of writing is to learn and share what you learned about yourself, others, the world in general. Writing does not call for a certain mastery, only mere thoughts can blossom within other minds to become something more, and more, and more.

Track 03. Trust the Process

Peter Elbow’s campaigning for the utilization of more low stakes writing assignments in schools correlates with the way I feel I actually “learned” how to write. In High Stakes and Low Stakes in Assigning and Responding to Writing, Elbow posits that “Low stakes writing helps students… find their own language for the issues of the course; they stumble into their own analogies and metaphors for academic concept” in a way that “is saturated with sense or experience” (7). I’ve received all sorts of passing grades during my life as a student, but the ones that come to my mind whenever I think of assignments that I’m proud of are ones where I was allowed to add my sense of humor or a creative twist to the assignment; it sort of speaks to this idea that a student doesn’t view their writing as their writing until a part of themselves is actually in it, and its no longer just a paint-by-numbers recreation of whatever the teacher had them study. To that point, after class Maya and I walked to the parking lot with the One Most Inextricable from My Soul, we continued talking about how we learned to write, and Maya made a distinction that struck me; she made a distinction between her personal writing and her academic writing. I myself make that distinction often, but hearing another writer bring it up casually made me realize how ingrained the disparity between how we’re taught and how we actually learned can be for some of us. We, intentionally or unintentionally, other our academic writing instead of consider it integrated with the writing we do for ourselves.

I also enjoyed Elbow’s sections on how to respond to student’s writings. He writes, “Even when we write clear, accurate, valid, and helpful comments, our students often read them through a distorting lens of resistance or discouragement—or downright denial” (8). Of course, such a reaction is to be expected when helpful comments are directly tied to a decreasing score; they seem a lot less helpful and a bit more punishing. His later mention of “[avoiding] an impersonal ‘God/truth voice’ in [his] comments” actually makes me reminisce about an educator of mine who would use those constantly; I fondly remember “Wrong!!” and “Incorrect!!” or even just “!!” in red ink all over my essays for two marking periods during my senior year of high school (13). She would even yell her heavenly judgments out during presentations if you misunderstood the presentation topic; although I ended up thriving in her class, I definitely understand why so many of my classmates dreaded 2nd period. If she was a bit gentler, maybe we all would be in graduate writing programs.

As for Donald M. Murray’s Teach Writing as a Process Not a Product, the first quote that struck me was his use of the word “autopsy” to describe how educators teach literature (3). It made me smile pretty wryly because its a very apt descriptor for many classes I’ve been a student in and, regrettably, many classes I’ve been a teacher in as well. I also like Murray’s statement that “you don’t learn a process by talking about it, but by doing it” (20). It seems like it can be reductive, but in my experience the best way to learn the process is to practice the process; it’s certainly more engaging than just “autopsying” a piece and holding up its parts for show hoping your student can recreate it by their next due date.

This blog post was sonically powered by John Coltrane’s 1958 album Blue Train. I was in a Coltrane mood this morning, but wanted to try something other than A Love Supreme (which I love; I just needed a bit of variety today).

Elbow & Murray

Since I received such good feedback on my notes from last week, I think I’m going to keep these bullet points. Let’s dive in!

High & Low Stakes Writing – Elbow

  • “If students take only short-answer tests or machine-graded exams, they will often appear to have learned what we are teaching when in fact they have not.” (pg. 5) I couldn’t agree more! Personally, I believe standardized testing should be abolished, and this is exactly why. One test doesn’t—and shouldn’t—define a student. Many students do and don’t test well, but that doesn’t reflect what they’ve learned over the course of a class. This also leads to teachers teaching to the test, creating an illusion of understanding. Let’s remove these exams and look at the student as a whole.
  • “That is, I acknowledge that some students can understand something well and yet be hindered from explaining it in writing because of their fear of writing or lack of skill. In fact, it sometimes happens that we understand something well that we can’t even explain in speech—much less in writing.” (pg. 5) As a special education teacher, this quote made me reflect on all of my students and my knowledge of that population. When working with children with special needs, it’s easy to overlook how many skills need to be taught that come more naturally to “typical” students. This line reminded me of the skills of summarizing and retelling—both of which are incredibly challenging and often not explicitly taught. Regardless of the population, conveying something you understand is difficult, as stated in the text. Adding the challenge of writing only makes it more complex.
  • Outside of enjoying this reading from an educator’s perspective, I appreciated how straightforward the language was. As I’ve discussed with some of my peers, sometimes we encounter texts filled with so much jargon that the message becomes blurry. Reading something more accessible is refreshing.
  • “We mustn’t forget here a basic pedagogical principle: we are not obliged to teach everything we require.” (pg. 6) While this may be true, most teachers find themselves needing to backtrack to cover what’s required of students. Many students struggle to produce what’s asked of them, especially considering we’re in a literacy crisis. This situation forces teachers to rework their lesson plans and adjust their pacing, as countless students are constantly in a state of catch-up.
  • “They have discovered how often teachers’ comments are not clear, how often comments are misunderstood by students even when they are clear, and how often comments cannot be trusted… And truth be told, we are often writing in a discouraged or downright grumpy mood… Even when we write clear, accurate, valid, and helpful comments, our students often read them through a distorting lens of resistance or discouragement—or downright denial.” (pg. 8) If everyone is moody and has skewed perceptions, how can we get to the truth and be truly helpful? It feels like we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. There’s no right way to critique students’ work, and even if there were, we can’t predict how receptive students will be.
  • “That is, we are most likely to cause learning and least likely to do harm if the message of our response is, in effect, ‘Please do more of this thing you are already doing here.’” (pg. 10) It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. Providing students with positivity when grading their writing is crucial. I understand how detrimental it can be when students only hear what they’re doing wrong, so I try to be very aware of this. When grading, I always focus on finding and highlighting the strengths in their work. I tend to use the “criticism sandwich” approach (positive, negative, positive) when providing feedback.
  • “When the writing doesn’t much matter to the final grade, we can afford to withhold our response or criticism. (pg.10) Personally, I think it’s important to provide intentional corrections on both high-stakes and low-stakes assignments. While high-stakes work deserves more detailed criticism, I can’t turn a blind eye to low-stakes tasks. For example, all assignments receive feedback on grammar, spelling, and organization, but high-stakes assignments get more in-depth feedback regarding content. I believe that addressing these aspects, regardless of the stakes, will help build positive writing habits that won’t need to be addressed later when grading high-stakes assignments.
  • “Is this comment worth it?” (pg. 10) This is a good question to ask ourselves when providing feedback. Not everything we think needs to be said, so we should reflect on whether the comment is actually beneficial and purposeful. Sometimes we have to weigh whether it’s more important to be correct or to contribute something meaningful.
  • “In contrast, low-stakes minimal responding requires the least time and effort from us, requires the least expertise from us, takes the least time away from our teaching of the subject matter, and is least likely to turn teachers and students into adversaries.” (pg. 10) This idea of taking the easy way out shouldn’t be our default. Sure, minimal feedback takes less time and effort, but student learning should be the priority. We’re building important foundational skills, so even if it takes more time to give feedback, we should do it for the greater good of the students.

Writing as a Process – Murray

  • “Year after year, the student shudders under a barrage of criticism, much of it brilliant, some of it stupid, and all of it irrelevant. No matter how careful our criticisms, they do not help the student since, when we teach composition, we are not teaching a product; we are teaching a process.” (pg. 3) The idea that criticism is stupid and irrelevant, regardless of how good it is, just isn’t true, in my opinion. Feedback can be incredibly helpful when done right, especially when the student is receptive.
  • “It is the process of exploration of what we know and what we feel about what we know through language. It is the process of using language to learn about our world, to evaluate what we learn about our world, and to communicate what we learn about our world.” (pg. 4) I think this is a great framework that educators should adopt. Focusing on exploration and having students be active participants in their learning is crucial to their understanding and engagement with the material.
  • “First by shutting up… We must listen carefully for those words that may reveal a truth, that may reveal a voice.” (pg. 5) I feel it’s so important to sit back and give students the freedom to exist and write before swooping in. I want to see what the student is capable of, and the only way to do that is to allow them to do so. The instruction and guidance should take place before the writing, so when they finally do write, we can see if and what they learned.
  • This reading discussed the importance of giving students the time and space to write, rewrite, and discover, which is something I agree with. However, it’s easier said than done. It’s hard to provide students with everything they need in this regard when you have to stay on track and students are working at drastically different paces. To me, it’s one of the saddest parts about teaching.

Remembering How We Learned to Write

The early ground we have covered in “Writing Theory & Practice” class helps us lays an important foundation for our continuing discussion throughout the course of our semester together. To remember how you were taught to write (vs, how you actually learned to write) is an important reflection for us to establish as we move through writing theory & writing practice. I enjoyed our class conversation last night.

The free writing exercises that asked you to “mine your memory” for those formative writing moments yielded very revealing responses.  And in many ways, some shared themes emerged.  How were you taught to write? Many of you remember formulaic approaches, grammar reinforcement, and emphasis on structure.  Some of you also described the feeling of being “boxed in” in school, or being forced into mandatory or standardized approaches, and general feeling of being uninspired as a result.  But a special sense of self discovery definitely came through in your personal accounts to the second question. How did you learn to write? This response was definitely more connected to when you started to feel a sense of freedom. Writing can be a touchstone for knowing oneself a little bit better.  When you thought more deeply about how you REALLY learned to write, stories of “coming into voice” or empowerment pointed to certain transformation -experiences of more authentic and personal expression. With some of you, the transformation to a more “writerly self” happened due to certain self-driven interest, and particular individual passion.

Our class slides: 

Remembering your resources

I am glad we took a moment to think about the academic resources at your fingertips. The Kean University Learning Commons (better known as the library) is a treasure trove of support – offering daily workshops, special spaces for writing and studying, and of course a knowledgable staff who are there to guide you on your information and learning quests. Please remember to “lean in” and explore the Learning Commons – in person, and online. I look forward to spending a bit of time over there with you in October.

Janice Lauer’s Rhetoric & Composition: An overview of the field

I am glad we started our reading series with Janice Lauer’s overview of the field of Writing Studies, so we could apprehend some of the shifts in emphasis and approach over the years.  Please take a look at the notes that reflect some of the main threads of Lauer’s argument. As we proceed with class and consider strategies for “becoming a writer” – we can also consider the moment we find ourselves in now, and what is at stake in theorizing the art and craft of writing.

Rhetoric and writing are at the heart of how the world is shaped, and in many ways they are the critical engine fueling our perceptions of what is possible.  We must grapple with the fact that rhetoric in civic discourse is now, more than ever, an amplified influence due to omnipresent new technologies for writing.  And so we must take our analysis beyond just individual concerns (skills and voice) and also consider implications in the social context (power and the shaping of ideologies & systems of thought). We most certainly engage in these conversations together over the course of the semester.

A reminder regarding the preparation for your upcoming presentations:

**Please remember our “campus field trip” next week for class. Go directly to the Liberty Hall Academic Center where we will convene at the Special Collections Research Library Archives at 4:30pm. LHAC is located on the east side of campus adjacent to the Liberty Hall Museum.

Your to-do list:

Please read:

Blog #3 (a reflection on the above readings) due by 9/26.

This weekend is the official start to the Autumn season.

Enjoy it!

Week 2 Rhetoric and Composition

Highlights From Our Class So Far

Unfortunately I couldn’t stay for the rest of our class last Thursday, as I had Open House at my school, but my impressions of our class are that we are a room full of insightful, intelligent, and distinctive individuals, with a shared focus on growth and acclimating to the changes that we make and that life makes for us. I can’t wait to see what the semester brings and how we navigate this current part of our journey. It was also unfortunate that I wasn’t able to take part in the spiral journal exercise in class (I love that exercise!), so I did it at home. Something that stood out to me from that exercise was that in all of the prompts, I had mentioned “balance” and “rest” in some way, and because of this I’ve kept those two concepts in mind amidst acclimating to new routines and experiences this September so far.

On Rhetoric and Composition

In this chapter, Janice M. Lauer provides a glimpse into the history of the discipline now called rhetoric and composition, including its beginnings as just “rhetoric” (written discourse) and how it evolved into its current discipline. Lauer concludes with how the discipline currently sustains itself: with a “commitment to helping students and others develop their powers of inquiry and communication in order to reenvision and enrich their everyday, civic, academic, and workplace lives” (Lauer, 2006, p. 25). This commitment echoes my own vision of how I view writing, whether it is personal or when I help guide students on their own writing journeys.