All posts by Maya Ostfeld

The Revision Cycle

Most modern models of the writing process are linear. They are commonly based on traditional rhetorical models, which was originally an oratory art, “based on the irreversibility of speech” (Sommers).

Revision is not possible in speech (hence its irreversibility). Thus, the art of revision is lost in modern writing pedagogies. In Nancy Sommers’ research in “Revision Strategies of Student Writers and Experienced Adult Writers”, Sommers defines revision as “a sequence of changes in a composition- changes which are initiated by cues and occur continually throughout the writing of a work.”

This definition highlights the ever-presence of revision during and forever-after the creation of a piece of writing. Sommers identifies 4 ‘Revision Operations’: deletion, substitution, addition, and reordering; as well as 4 ‘Levels of Changes’: word, phrase, sentence, and theme. Utilizing these identifiers in conjunction with a ‘Scale of Concerns’, Sommers identified how the revision process unfolded between multiple forms of writing and multiple drafts.

After digesting the material provided by the student writers, Sommers identified that students main concerns in the revision process included vocabulary and repetition, at least the concerns that the students themselves were able to identify. These results determined that the students were incapable of perceiving revision as a process, rather than a linear step.

Sommers says, “the incongruities between intention and execution, governs both writing and meaning.” I think this calls into question the degradation of the original intention in every step of revision. A part of me believes that the way your thought was captured the first time was beautiful in its own right, and that first version should be preserved.

Of course, I believe that there will always be a better way to phrase our thoughts, a smarter way to communicate our intentions, but the first draft will always be holy to me. It was hard to learn how to mark it up- take things out, move them around, massage my ideas into place.

That highlights to me that the learned process of revision is another way for the world to bleed into the formation of art- when it may have been more beautiful in its original form, simply for the fact that it was so uniquely formed and crafted by you. It hasn’t yet felt the marring touch of the rest of the world’s thoughts, or the way the rest of the world tells you to think.

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.

a Double-Edged Sword: Rhetoric and Anxiety

Janice M. Lauer beautifully organizes an explanation to something as complex as rhetoric. Taking a page from her book (quite literally), I’d like to begin by highlighting one of the key components of rhetoric: the concept that it is multimodal.

Rhetoric is built into the very fundamentals of Human nature. In every conversation we hold with one another, every room we walk into, and even in every passing greeting, rhetoric hides behind the placement of our words, our hair, our clothes, our gestures. Our behaviors are all very rationalized and thought out, and they all say something about who we are and who we want to be perceived as- and where those two selves converge.

Lauer address this concept herself on page 6 when she talks about “the end of the 1980s, [when] Louise Wetherbee Phelps characterized this newly emerging discipline of rhetoric and composition as a “human science”. ” In my eyes rhetoric is more akin to a discipline of psychology than a disciple of writing, but as previously discussed, it is multimodal and interdisciplinary.

Rhetoric encapsulates the question ‘why’. Why did you choose that word, and why that format, why did you choose to write this piece– a rhetorical analysis feeds the starving child in our heads, the one who always asked why and was asked to stop (because it can be quite annoying).

But what if my child never stopped asking , and now when someone passes me in the hall and doesn’t smile, she needs a why. Rhetoric is all about looking very closely at things, picking them apart for their reasoning, but when you spend too much time doing that all you’re left with is a lot of anxiety.

When you become so aware that everything is a choice that says something about you, everything feels very paralyzing. I guess the same is true about writing, that every word I’m writing right now could be analyzed, and you could try to figure out why I said everything the way I said it (please don’t do that), but if I was really so nervous about that I wouldn’t show you my writing.

That’s the thing about writing, it’s easily changed. I can go back in and edit a document, or cross out a sentence, but it’s much harder to change things in the real world. Perhaps it’s the lack of control of real time that leaves me so frightened.

About Me

I am particularly good about forcing myself to sit down and get work done, but this assignment caused my brain to stutter for a bit. It is impossible to wrap a Human Being up into a couple of paragraphs; how do I decide what’s important?

Should I consider my audience, and tell my peers about my academic career and interests? Should I approach this as if you’re a stranger from the internet and introduce myself the same way I would to a customer at work?

It all just feels so overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time.

My first draft of this assignment was just a list of embarrassing facts about me. I determined I was not too keen on that being my first impression.

Then, I asked my friends and family to write funny reviews about me like the ones you find on the back cover of a book. The only one that made the cut was my dad’s:

“Maya’s research is so good Siri calls her for help.”

-Glenn Ostfeld

So… that idea didn’t really pan out either.

And then I started writing this monologue, and I thought maybe just listening to my train of thought may tell you what you need to know about me. Or maybe not, and you really like fun-facts and easily digested content. If that’s you, here’s a list.

Fun-Facts

  • I started high school in China. It was for my dad’s job. I was tired of talking about it before we left, so I tend to mention it quickly in the beginning of my relationships and then never bring it up again. How was it? It was good. How was the food? Also, good.
  • In the same vein, I love to travel. I’ve seen a lot of places, such as: China, Tibet, Germany, Thailand, Israel, Alaska, etc.
  • I graduated from Kean with a degree in English (Writing), and a minor in Marketing.
  • I am passionate about my research on the capabilities of AI in writing, but my real love is poetry and it always will be.
  • And, most importantly, I love my dog more than anything else. His name is Marco, here’s a picture:

Contact Me

If you have any questions, commentary, or you just really like me, you can shoot me an email at: ostfeldm@kean.edu,

or

find me on instagram @mayaleeistyping.