Writing & Identity

Autumn leaf background

We started class with another walk. I enjoy celebrating this glorious time of year with all of you by taking these contemplative walks, which matter to both body, mind, and our community of trust building. Walking creates space to slow down, notice the world around us, shift our perspective, and let ideas wander in unexpected directions. I am glad to make moments to embrace the sensibility of a walker, and the best way to think differently about writing is to move through the world, and see what new questions emerge along the way.

Congratulations to Cj for an engaging walkthrough of our reading this week “Queer Theory in the Writing Classroom” by Jonathan Alexander & Michelle Gibson .  By having us think about the role that writing and words can play in developing a writerly confidence, he made us also think about how students might feel coming into writing, where we have been and what ground we have covered in our writing attempts along the way. And we also contemplated how our lifetime of writing(s) are an always present invitation for revision.

“Queer Theory in the Writing Classroom” argues that queer theory can transform writing pedagogy by challenging assumptions about identity, gender, sexuality, and what society treats as “normal.” The authors emphasize that queer-informed teaching involves more than simply including LGBTQ+ texts; it means examining how language, writing, and classroom practices shape identities and reproduce or challenge systems of power. By encouraging students to question fixed categories, explore the complexities of their own and others’ experiences, and critically examine how identities are narrated, writing classrooms can become spaces for deeper self-reflection, rhetorical inquiry, and social transformation. Alexander & Gibson argue that queer theory is not just for identity politics or “window-dressing” forms of inclusion, but has deeper implications for how writing, identity, voice, power, performance, and difference are understood. The truth is that we all negotiate multiple overlapping identities (gender, sexuality, race, class, etc). Identity is never a singular static concept. The norms around “normal” ( in regards to sexuality, gender, writing styles, voice) are not neutral. They are enforced, embedded, and often hidden. With this article, it becomes apparent that queer theory helps in making them visible and contestable. Truth is, “good writing” often carries implicit normative assumptions, and teacher and students should engage in metacognitive work together: thinking about how identities are constructed, how power operates, how writing is shaped by these.

Autumnal leaves hanging thread

CJ playfully questioned his own writing-in-time by reflecting on the hazy experience of composing a seminar presentation while sick. In doing so, he invited us to consider identity as fluid and evolving, continually shaped by time and the particular moments in which we compose. What we write one week may look or feel quite different to us as time passes. Cj, and Alexander and Gibson, too, remind us that writing allows us to explore, question, and reimagine who we are at different moments in our lives. Through ongoing acts of composing and revising, we not only express our identities but also participate in our continual becoming. These snapshots of ourselves in writing are not simply sources of cringe (though, of course, there may be plenty of those moments!). They also offer ways of remembering and understanding who we were, who we are, and how we are changing. In doing so, they illuminate our identities not only as individuals but also in relation to our collective experiences and political positionalities. This connects beautifully to Alexander and Gibson’s larger argument: writing is never simply a reflection of a stable, already-formed self. It is a space where identity is continually negotiated, challenged, and reimagined, and where we can begin to question the categories and assumptions that shape how we understand ourselves and others. This is why writing is so powerful, because it allows us not only to make sense of who we are in the moment, but also to revisit, question, and reimagine who we might become individually and collectively, personally and politically.

Class Slides

Your to-do list:

Next week we will have a short check-in to start class, and then jump right into presentation mode. First Zach will share his thoughts on Writing, Identity, and Voice. And then Alyssa R will present of Writing & Healing after Zach. It is “double header” (take-two). For the next class please read Alyssa’s selections:  

Expressive Writing, Emotional Upheavals, and Health by James W. Pennebaker & Cindy K Chung 

Blog #6 is due before 10/15. Please writie a reflection on Alyssa’s selected readings. 

Have a great weekend!

Free colorful autumn leaves image

Voice is a Flame

This week’s readings (mainly Sonya Huber) had me thinking a lot about my writing process, my voice, and how it’s developed (and continuously developing) over time.

My voice has had many transformations. And they’ve all felt a little awkward and “false” until, over time, they finally felt like me. And honestly, I still feel like my writing voice is transforming.

I like the idea that our souls can encompass various voices. Some are more personal and others find themselves serving the public mask a little more. It’s important to remember the essence of self is carried within each “voice” as you use said voice as a tool in your writing.

Acknowledging all your different voices in all these different contexts helps you garner a deeper understanding of the self in turn makes you a better, more “embodied” writer. 

But it’s all annoying isn’t it. To have to navigate these spaces all at once and all these voices at once and use your very-specific-to-you style to compile a satisfying writing project.

I’ve struggled too. And after reading this, I started reflecting on why I use parenthesis at all. I realized I use it to kind of say or explain things without feeling or carrying the added pressure that comes with presenting my thoughts in an academic setting. When engaging in creative writing, I’ve noticed that I use parentheses to let my audience in on a little secret or to tell them what I really mean.

But why can’t I write or reveal as I use my surface-level voice, without the hedges? I guess that would be two different voices coming together in one piece of my writing. Heteroglossia! I liked learning the word for the phenomenon for a piece of writing inhabiting a writer’s many voices. It makes me feel more comfortable with exercising my voice the way I have and continue to do.

But that doesn’t necessarily remove that uncomfortableness from seeing yourself (the person you are) creeping there on the page. Which is a whole psychological endeavor to think about. What’s the difference between a person’s approach to writing who was heard when exercising the tool that is their voice and those who weren’t? Those who aren’t able to (particularly those who don’t have access to speech, vision, or body)?

I’ve been thinking about voice and its power a lot recently. Especially in writing. For some it flows out like water, and for others it takes more of a negotiation with oneself to finally “get the mess on the page.”

And wherever you land on that spectrum of struggle has a lot to do with where you’ve been and where you’ve landed. There is no Ideal Text to compare and work ourselves toward. & that’s important to remember.

Secondary education isn’t necessarily to blame for where I’ve landed (which is the side with struggle involved). Sure, it plays a role because of the how strict the structure of writing was, but I had a couple great english teachers that encouraged stepping (slightly) out of those lines. For me, I think it has more to do with identity.

Thinking of voice as a flame is a beautiful sentiment. To be caring, compassionate, mindful of our voices and nurture them into liveliness. To do that all again for the sake of knowing and trusting ourselves enough to write at all. And exercising that cycle to then present it to whoever your audience may be.

꩜

Journaling has not been an easy feat for me recently. I genuinely can’t do it because every time I approach the page, it feels like my mind struggles to put the words together. Mainly for fear. But whenever a deep feeling arises that I can’t ignore (somehow) a poem exits itself out of my mind and (somehow!) onto paper.

“Real-life troubles affected my voice, to the point where I couldn’t be honest on the page or feel some of my emotions.” Like Huber, I’ve felt this way many, many times. But as an act of resistance, I can try labeling the voice that writes poems… Nonsensical Women or something.

A quote I also liked: “We become thought; we feel voice; we act out ideas on the small stage of our being.”

Adamari 10/8/2026

Writing Leads with Voice

“When I first heard, as a young person who liked to write, that writing was about “finding your voice,” I got nervous. That seemed very risky: what if I picked the wrong one?”- Susan Huber

Susan Huber starts off this article with a very relatable question. What if I picked the wrong one? The wrong voice that would lead my writing. That’s a very real fear I had when learning about writing with voice for the first time in Professor Lisa Sislers’ Advanced Composition course during my undergrad. It was the first time I heard about voice being your own distinct personality in your writing. 

I felt behind as a writer, even though I wasn’t even calling myself one at the time. I thought I had to pick one voice and stick with it forever. Famous authors I recognize, like poets Sylvia Plath or Margaret Atwood, and novelists Stephen King and Ocean Vuong, have distinct voices that I look up to. All of which seems to be unmoving or unchanging. Huber offers a new, refreshing perspective:

“I believe that we often hold this sense of voice as “self” or “essence” a little too tightly. The idea of one “authentic” voice is a holdover from a time when we saw each self as singular, isolated, and separate. These days, we’re moving beyond ideas of simple subjectivity and objectivity, and we’re more likely to see the self as constituted in relation to others, in community.” 

Voice is not subject to stagnancy because we are not subject to stagnancy. We are ever-changing beings; therefore, our writing, and in turn, voice (or voice(s), may I challenge) can go through change too. This is how we embody our writing, by letting it embody our natural human nature, exploration, and creativity. This is how writing becomes a living, breathing body of work, even long after the words become stuck letters on a page.

Our writing can hold many voices and names.

“Language intersects with life.” -Mikhail Bakhtin

Mikhail Bakhtin, another notable literary theorist Huber mentions, also believed, like myself, that we have many voices. Even if a text were written by a single person, he argued that it can still hold many voices. Those of resonance and dissonance; of relevancy and hypocrisy.

Huber expands on this theory and calls for freedom of expression when writing and teaching it. She goes as radical as naming the many voices that take shape in her writing:

“And now I can’t stop naming voices: Hayseed Punk-Rock Girl, I’ve Lost My Shoes, Fierce German Peasant. In letting myself loose a bit, in looking for the weird voices in my own life and head and letting them out, I found new ways to say things and new perspectives on my life.”

I like the notion of naming your voices and reflecting on the different perspectives they bring into your life. If I were to name a few, I think some of mine would be: Slow Panda, Adhd Zoomies, Worry Man, Spirit Divine, Teacher Rivers, Stagnant Steed, and Inspired Butterfly. All are me, yet offer various ways in which I view the world and describe my processes.

3 spiderman's meme.
Which voice(s) are you using? (Pinterest//bababoyee)

When I become a professor, I’d love to incorporate voices, their importance, and how to find them, into the classroom and my writing exercises, the way Huber suggests. 

Writing Leads with Voice

“When I first heard, as a young person who liked to write, that writing was about “finding your voice,” I got nervous. That seemed very risky: what if I picked the wrong one?”- Susan Huber

Susan Huber starts off this article with a very relatable question. What if I picked the wrong one? The wrong voice that would lead my writing. That’s a very real fear I had when learning about writing with voice for the first time in Professor Lisa Sislers’ Advanced Composition course during my undergrad. It was the first time I heard about voice being your own distinct personality in your writing. 

I felt behind as a writer, even though I wasn’t even calling myself one at the time. I thought I had to pick one voice and stick with it forever. Famous authors I recognize, like poets Sylvia Plath or Margaret Atwood, and novelists Stephen King and Ocean Vuong, have distinct voices that I look up to. All of which seems to be unmoving or unchanging. Huber offers a new, refreshing perspective:

“I believe that we often hold this sense of voice as “self” or “essence” a little too tightly. The idea of one “authentic” voice is a holdover from a time when we saw each self as singular, isolated, and separate. These days, we’re moving beyond ideas of simple subjectivity and objectivity, and we’re more likely to see the self as constituted in relation to others, in community.” 

Voice is not subject to stagnancy because we are not subject to stagnancy. We are ever-changing beings; therefore, our writing, and in turn, voice (or voice(s), may I challenge) can go through change too. This is how we embody our writing, by letting it embody our natural human nature, exploration, and creativity. This is how writing becomes a living, breathing body of work, even long after the words become stuck letters on a page.

Our writing can hold many voices and names.

“Language intersects with life.” -Mikhail Bakhtin

Mikhail Bakhtin, another notable literary theorist Huber mentions, also believed, like myself, that we have many voices. Even if a text were written by a single person, he argued that it can still hold many voices. Those of resonance and dissonance; of relevancy and hypocrisy.

Huber expands on this theory and calls for freedom of expression when writing and teaching it. She goes as radical as naming the many voices that take shape in her writing:

“And now I can’t stop naming voices: Hayseed Punk-Rock Girl, I’ve Lost My Shoes, Fierce German Peasant. In letting myself loose a bit, in looking for the weird voices in my own life and head and letting them out, I found new ways to say things and new perspectives on my life.”

I like the notion of naming your voices and reflecting on the different perspectives they bring into your life. If I were to name a few, I think some of mine would be: Slow Panda, Adhd Zoomies, Worry Man, Spirit Divine, Teacher Rivers, Stagnant Steed, and Inspired Butterfly. All are me, yet offer various ways in which I view the world and describe my processes.

3 spiderman's meme.
Which voice(s) are you using? (Pinterest//bababoyee)

When I become a professor, I’d love to incorporate voices, their importance, and how to find them, into the classroom and my writing exercises, the way Huber suggests. 

Writing Leads with Voice

“When I first heard, as a young person who liked to write, that writing was about “finding your voice,” I got nervous. That seemed very risky: what if I picked the wrong one?”- Susan Huber

Susan Huber starts off this article with a very relatable question. What if I picked the wrong one? The wrong voice that would lead my writing. That’s a very real fear I had when learning about writing with voice for the first time in Professor Lisa Sislers’ Advanced Composition course during my undergrad. It was the first time I heard about voice being your own distinct personality in your writing. 

I felt behind as a writer, even though I wasn’t even calling myself one at the time. I thought I had to pick one voice and stick with it forever. Famous authors I recognize, like poets Sylvia Plath or Margaret Atwood, and novelists Stephen King and Ocean Vuong, have distinct voices that I look up to. All of which seems to be unmoving or unchanging. Huber offers a new, refreshing perspective:

“I believe that we often hold this sense of voice as “self” or “essence” a little too tightly. The idea of one “authentic” voice is a holdover from a time when we saw each self as singular, isolated, and separate. These days, we’re moving beyond ideas of simple subjectivity and objectivity, and we’re more likely to see the self as constituted in relation to others, in community.” 

Voice is not subject to stagnancy because we are not subject to stagnancy. We are ever-changing beings; therefore, our writing, and in turn, voice (or voice(s), may I challenge) can go through change too. This is how we embody our writing, by letting it embody our natural human nature, exploration, and creativity. This is how writing becomes a living, breathing body of work, even long after the words become stuck letters on a page.

Our writing can hold many voices and names.

“Language intersects with life.” -Mikhail Bakhtin

Mikhail Bakhtin, another notable literary theorist Huber mentions, also believed, like myself, that we have many voices. Even if a text were written by a single person, he argued that it can still hold many voices. Those of resonance and dissonance; of relevancy and hypocrisy.

Huber expands on this theory and calls for freedom of expression when writing and teaching it. She goes as radical as naming the many voices that take shape in her writing:

“And now I can’t stop naming voices: Hayseed Punk-Rock Girl, I’ve Lost My Shoes, Fierce German Peasant. In letting myself loose a bit, in looking for the weird voices in my own life and head and letting them out, I found new ways to say things and new perspectives on my life.”

I like the notion of naming your voices and reflecting on the different perspectives they bring into your life. If I were to name a few, I think some of mine would be: Slow Panda, Adhd Zoomies, Worry Man, Spirit Divine, Teacher Rivers, Stagnant Steed, and Inspired Butterfly. All are me, yet offer various ways in which I view the world and describe my processes.

3 spiderman's meme.
Which voice(s) are you using? (Pinterest//bababoyee)

When I become a professor, I’d love to incorporate voices, their importance, and how to find them, into the classroom and my writing exercises, the way Huber suggests. 

A Writer’s Walk

Before I post my blogs about Zach’s readings, I feel compelled to share what I wrote in last week’s class during our first writer’s walk:

On remembering my humaneness

Prompt: Reflect on what you notice about the world around you and your place in it (a meditation).

“I noticed the world operates on the perception of danger. Danger is inherent, and our need to detect it is biological. I know that now by studying the animals. The Deer and her baby ate grass as the class walked past them. Mama was on the right of us. Baby on the left. As we got closer, the baby looked up and instantly ran over to the mama’s side.

In this case, she faced the threat with the warmth of the familiar. The mom did not move or flinch, but she did keep her gaze on us. They stopped eating, but the whimsical baby, now feeling safe, ran up and down the grass, almost being hit by a tree branch.“Babies will frolic no matter what species,” Dr.Zamora remarks.

On the contrary, the squirrel I saw towards the end of the walk had to face perceived danger alone. It was eating an acorn when we were approaching. In an instant glance, it dropped the acorn and stopped at the tree. It looked stuck in place as if I had taken its picture. It stopped eating, too.

When does fear take us out of the present moment? When does our perception of danger become foggy? My default is fear of danger. Or what I perceive as danger. I noticed that in just 10 minutes, I had perceived danger on different occasions:

Did Adamari just fall? Look back.

What’s that sound? There’s always construction going on.

Don’t breathe in the steam; you’re healing from being so sick.

Walk away from the deer in case they pounce.

The trees are caving in on me.

What if those men shout things at us?

I wish I saw nature as I did as a child, unbeknowest to fight or flight.“

I am being, in this world.

A sensitive person, in this world.

A woman, in a world.

I feel scared, because of this world.

I feel deeply, every second of every day in this world.

A Writer’s Walk

Before I post my blogs about Zach’s readings, I feel compelled to share what I wrote in last week’s class during our first writer’s walk:

On remembering my humaneness

Prompt: Reflect on what you notice about the world around you and your place in it (a meditation).

“I noticed the world operates on the perception of danger. Danger is inherent, and our need to detect it is biological. I know that now by studying the animals. The Deer and her baby ate grass as the class walked past them. Mama was on the right of us. Baby on the left. As we got closer, the baby looked up and instantly ran over to the mama’s side.

In this case, she faced the threat with the warmth of the familiar. The mom did not move or flinch, but she did keep her gaze on us. They stopped eating, but the whimsical baby, now feeling safe, ran up and down the grass, almost being hit by a tree branch.“Babies will frolic no matter what species,” Dr.Zamora remarks.

On the contrary, the squirrel I saw towards the end of the walk had to face perceived danger alone. It was eating an acorn when we were approaching. In an instant glance, it dropped the acorn and stopped at the tree. It looked stuck in place as if I had taken its picture. It stopped eating, too.

When does fear take us out of the present moment? When does our perception of danger become foggy? My default is fear of danger. Or what I perceive as danger. I noticed that in just 10 minutes, I had perceived danger on different occasions:

Did Adamari just fall? Look back.

What’s that sound? There’s always construction going on.

Don’t breathe in the steam; you’re healing from being so sick.

Walk away from the deer in case they pounce.

The trees are caving in on me.

What if those men shout things at us?

I wish I saw nature as I did as a child, unbeknowest to fight or flight.“

I am being, in this world.

A sensitive person, in this world.

A woman, in a world.

I feel scared, because of this world.

I feel deeply, every second of every day in this world.

Reflection of 10/01/26

Today was the best class so far this entire semester. Wow! I don’t even know where to begin. I think if I start at the beginning of class, that will start the path to the journey of excitement that Dr. Zamora presented to us, and took us on. “The Magic School Bus”.

First, we had Weather Check In. Question of the day, How do you feel about the weather? Give some sort of description how your feeling. My description was I was feeling gloomy, gray and I turned it into a joke making everybody laugh. I piggy backed off of Itana’s big announcement. You had to be there to hear the announcement. I won’t repeat it. lol.

Here comes the big surprise. Dr. Zamora said we were going on a Writer’s Walk. She wanted us to use our senses. Sense of touch, sight, hear, and smell. We had to meditate (no talking) and focus on the senses that came to us in a sensory sense. Take notice about the world around us. Dr. Zamora was AMAZING!!! She walked us around the campus. This was good for me, because I had never seen the entire campus. I usually just park my car and go to my class. I never noticed any of the surrounding beauty that this campus sits on. This campus has a lot to offer the students and faculty here at Kean.

On my walk, (which I enjoyed), I noticed and heard the babbling brook. The water was calm and serene. I heard students laughing and enjoying themselves. The change of the leaves color were spectacular. They screamed fall is here!

The most interesting thing I saw/noticed, was the “Big Clock”. Time was 6:05 p.m. Time waits for no man! Take advantage of every opportunity that comes your way and make the most of your time. I didn’t know we had a Star Bucks on campus. I wanted to use some of that time to get coffee. Wow!

The most precious thing I noticed on my walk was a mother and baby deer. They weren’t even scared of us passing by. The baby deer was kind of wild like a puppy playing in the grass.

I had to thank Dr. Zamora for this exciting opportunity to go on a Writer’s Walk. It gave me my “Thunder Back”. I started walking in the park. Walking clears my mind. I stopped for a little while because I had hernia surgery, and I feared to get back out there to walk again because of the pain I suffered. Thanks to Dr. Zamora, she helped me get past my fear.

Upon returning back to class, we had to free write about everything we noticed through our senses, and share them with the class. Everyone had great memorable things to share.

We had another walk. This time it was in the classroom. “The Gallery Walk”, Dr. Zamora created four posters that included titles: Writing is a technology, Writing is Social, Writing is embodied, and Writing is a form of power. We were given markers, and how to visit each posted sign and write something about what that title meant to us. After everyone wrote something on the posts, we discussed what we wrote. There were very interesting comments.

I wonder what surprise Dr. Zamora had install for us next week.

If Your Struggling To Write, Lead With Voice.

Building my vocabulary while finding my voice is a work in progress. Truth be told, I am guilty of writing better than I speak. When I speak, whether its giving a presentation, or giving feedback on a reflection piece in front of the class, my words change, and I experience a brain fog and sometimes forget the words I want to say. I know what I want to say in my mind, but when I speak, my words don’t come out the way I want them to.

Writing on the other hand, gives me the chance to slow down, organize my thoughts, and find words that I want to express that connects to what I am trying to say. When I come across words that I do not understand, I write them down and look them up so I can understand their meanings. I do this to enhance and build my vocabulary, so I can become a better writer and find my voice.

Hubert writes, “I always thought I should sound different, smarter, more complex, more restrained”. I used to think that way as well. I thought that if I used smarter, or more complex words, it would make my writing stand out and appear to be stronger. I’ve come to realize that using big words doesn’t make my writing stronger. I use my own words and my own voice to express my thoughts so that my writing can flow smoothly, and allow my own voice to be heard through my writing.

As I read the article, two questions caught my attention. Hubert writes, “If a writer happens upon-that so-called authentic voice, does that mean the previous voices were false or imposters?” “Would that authentic voice then, once discovered, stay constant and reliable, even a the writer’s life affects changes and perspective evolve?” I don’t think they are false or imposters. I do believe that previous voices is the beginning of your writing journey. A writer’s voice can change depending on what topic your writing about. Your authentic voice should remain constant and reliable. Your authentic voice shows your real style and expression and emotions. Your authentic voice should create your writing to be personal, sincere, and meaningful. When I use my authentic voice, I use my own personal real life situations and experiences. I have to stay true to my own personal beliefs.

Hubert wrote an emotional and personal truth about her personal experience with her sickness. She named that voice “Pain Woman” She continues to name her voices. I have quite a few voices myself. I am still building on my rhetorical and persuasive speaking and writing style. As I become stronger and more confident in my voice, I will continue building my vocabulary so my writing can become less of a struggle.

I could have persued my Graduate studies in Science and Education, but after I taught one year in English and Language Arts, I developed a love for writing. As a (Newbie) graduate student entering English Writing Studies, from my former background of science and education, I am trying hard to adjust to this new world of writing.

At times, I feel like I am in an unfamiliar territory. Many of the grad students around me have been English Majors since their undergrad school years, and continuing their English Writing Studies at the Grad level. For me, this is a new beginning. My starting point from ground zero.

As I read other student blogs, I see the words they choose. I feel like my words are too small compared to theirs. When I first started to write my blogs, I thought I should use bigger, more complex words to make my writing stronger. I thought if I used bigger words, it would make my writing sound more educated.

After reading this article, I no longer feel that way. I have come to realize that if I use my own voice, my own words, and my own style, my writing can be just as effective. I just have to trust the process, and trust my voice while staying true to myself. I believe the building of my vocabulary will help assist me to write stronger, without losing my voice. I don’t have to sound like anyone else. I will just trust my own voice and allow my own words to speak my truth.

I enjoyed reading this article. It shed a brighter light for me on my Academic Journey in English Writing Studies.

“On Students’ Rights To Their Own Texts: A Model of Teacher Response”

As I read this article, I connected it to Donald Murray’s Teaching Writing As A Process Not A Product, in the way teachers’ methods are used to the teaching of writing. I also connected to “If Your Struggling To Write, Lead With Your Voice”.

Writing can be challenging for some students. It becomes even more challenging when they feel that their writing has to meet the teachers requirements rather than reflect on their own thoughts, and personal experiences, by being true to their own voice.

When teachers give students writing assignments, they expect students to follow their ideas about “How” and “What” they should write, rather than allowing them to use their voice and develop their own ideas, as well as allowing them to take ownership of their writing. If a teacher allows students to write their own ideas, I strongly believe this can help them become better writers by managing to stay focused on the topic instead of becoming frustrated.

Lil Brannon and C.H. Knoblauch writes ” the dynamic connection between a writer’s authority and the quality of readers attention is altered because of peculiar relationship between teacher and student”. In a classroom, the teacher is the authoritative figure. The students will try to follow the teachers lead. The students will pay attention and try to write according to the teacher’s directions. As the students begin to write, they take the teachers directions while developing their own ideas.

I think this starts a peculiar relationship (as mentioned above) between teachers and students, because the teacher is expecting one outcome of their writing assignment, but the students may go in different directions, developing their own ideas.

This is when teachers (Power of The Pen) start changing their ideas, changing their words, and students start losing their voice and ownership over their writing. To me, its like having a voice and not being heard through your writing.

I think this creates a problem between student and teacher. At this point, students may accept what the teacher is correcting on their writing just to make the teacher satisfied (giving in to authority) just to receive a passing grade, and be finished with the assignment. Getting the annoying teacher out of their hair.

But where does that leave the students? How is that student left feeling? I know this feeling all too well. This happened to me. When I was in high school, I wrote a piece from my heart, using my own voice and personal experience. I included a Spiritual connection in my writing. I was given some ideas about changing my title, and add more Spiritual text throughout my writing piece. As I watched my paper being marked up with “The Red Pen”, I felt that it wasn’t right or fair, because that wasn’t what I wanted my writing piece to say. Instead of expressing how I felt, I agreed to the changes. I thought to myself, all of this, just to please the teacher and get a passing grade.

That experience didn’t sit right with my feelings. To keep my peace within myself, I kept my original writing piece, and submitted my revised writing for a grade. To this day, I often read it sometimes and think about how that experience connects to me surrendering my voice for a passing grade.

As an educator, when I assigned a writing task, I didn’t markup my students writing assignments with corrections. Instead, I made a photocopy of their writing rough draft and placed a sticky note on it that said “See Me”. I would sit down with the student’s one-on-one and guide them through their writing piece, rather then tell them what they should have written, or re-write their ideas or thoughts. I helped them connect and bridge their ideas of the topic, while allowing them to keep their thoughts, personal experiences, and their voice in tact!

This article helped me realize that one’s authentic voice matters.

Writing not a draft to be corrected: It’s a voice to be understood.

After reading this week’s articles, I have realized that respecting students as authors/writers gives them ownership of their voice. The article “ On Students’ Rights to Their Own Texts: A Model of Teacher Response” by Lil Brannon and C.H. Knoblauch advocates for students’ writing to be understood rather than corrected. Though it’s an older article, its relevance is encouraging because it reflects what hundreds of students experienced or may experience, when they are not given the right to defend their writing in the classroom. The authors are perceptive with their arguments. They mention, “Oddly, therefore  in classroom writing situations, the reader assumes primary control of the choices writers make, feeling perfectly free to “correct”  those choices any time an apprentice deviates from the teacher-reader’s conception of what the developing text “ought” to look like or “ought” to be doing.” To me this is one the biggest issues that occurs in the classroom. A teacher imposing their meaning, expectations, and ideal text on a student’s work. What do these recurring practices do to students? They replace the students’ voices with their own. 

One of the questions that resonated while reading, is why do some teachers feel they know better what the student meant than the student does? The authors show a mindset in which teachers redirect and reshape a student’s text until the student’s voice becomes secondary. My intention with this is not to bash teachers because I understand that they followed/follow a curriculum and academic norms. This most likely occurred more in the past than today, but I had experiences in which I felt my writing felt more like a draft to be corrected than understood. This is what the authors are suggesting, that students’ writing should not be simply “fixed,” but the content and effectiveness of communication should be valued more. 

“It is to work with the writer in examining the effectiveness of some intended communication and to initiate improvement where possible.” Right here, this quote ladies and gents, this is the core idea and argument I have reflected upon. If readers (teachers) focused more on helping students clarify meaning or the intention of their writing, then students would feel they have agency and ownership of their writing.

The only way for students to develop their voice, identity, and purpose in text is by allowing them to make their own decisions. Not restraining or reforming their text to someone else’s idea of “ideal” or “correct.” After all, what is even correct? In writing there’s no correct or perfect way. We become writers by creating our own identities, making our own choices, and letting our voices be a reflection of who we are. Because our writing is our own lens of the world, not someone else’s.

Although I know I have only spoken about the positive and mellow experiences I’ve had in the classroom and how they impacted my life, I’ve also had experiences where  classes made me question if I should really pursue writing studies. Even though I loved writing and still do, I was self-loathing myself because I felt my writing was a problem to fix rather than a message to be understood. I remember one of my first English classes in community college. We were assigned a writing prompt based on a reading. I’ve titled this anecdote “My first 60.” Yes, that’s right. My first college essay in a that I received a sixty. I was horrified because I had NEVER received such a low grade in an English class. My first thought was, was my grammar that bad? Did I really have that many typos? What the heck went wrong?

When I received the “corrected” essay, or the feedback if you will, it was returned on paper. That red pen became a trauma. My essay was covered in so many red lines. Many arrows and notes that said “this sentence is your thesis, why is it in the middle?” or “this should have been your opening sentence.” I felt as if my writing had failed. I questioned the professor and asked why a sixty? Her response was “it was more of a formatting issue.” I was genuinely shocked. Since when did we have a strict format in a creative writing class? The professor gave me an opportunity to “fix” the essay, but from there and on, that class made me feel like I was walking on eggshells. For the rest of the semester, I felt restricted because I was writing for her rather than myself. I didn’t feel I was writing from what my heart felt, instead through some predestined guidelines. 

I’ll leave that anecdote behind and focus on Sonya Huber’s, “If  you’re struggling to write, lead with voice.” This article is more recent than the previous one, yet I see a connection between them because Huber emphasizes that if you feel stuck in writing, you should lead with your voice. But what does she mean by voice? To me, it feels that that voice is personal insight. Voice is part of our human nature. Voice is our expressive characteristic that makes writing feel alive. The connection between these two articles is that voice cannot be forced through structure. It can’t be corrected or fixed because it’s what naturally flows from our souls. You can’t correct someone’s authenticity. At the end of the day, writing can be revised by helping the writer clarify their meaning, but it can’t be “replaced” or “fixed the right way.” Writing is not a problem to solve; it’s a process of growth. A process that reveals not only one single voice, but many of our voices which make up who we are.