All posts by Nathaly Lopez

Student Blogs

Structure can silence voice

The first article I read this week was The Popularity of Formulaic Writing (And Why We Need to Resist) by Mark Wiley, and to be quite honest, I do not agree with Schaffer’s formulaic writing model. I believe that formulaic writing motivates predetermined structures on students rather than allowing them to discover their own voices and develop personal insights. Wiley mentions, “Schaffer claims this format replicates what is found in high-scoring essays on district-wide tests and AP exams.” For me, this sentence is key because it clearly reveals that formulaic writing functions as training for standardized testing. It teaches students how to write an essay for one audience: teachers. And guess what? Students may simply memorize the model. When students memorize a concept or structure, they do not actually learn it.

I know this from personal experience. I may or may not have passed Geometry in community college because I memorized how to solve equations and use the Pythagorean theorem just to pass a test. Did I pass the class? Surprisingly, yes. Did I actually learn and remember how to solve those equations? Needless to say, HECK NO. I memorized rules for one semester, and then, boom, I had no clue what I had learned.

Writing, however, is different. I learned to write because I underwent a process of self-discovery, and writing became part of my everyday life. To this day, I am still learning, growing, exploring, and expanding my knowledge and practice of writing. Writing is an infinite journey without a designated route in my eyes.

What I am trying to say is that Schaffer’s model teaches students that writing is limited. Formulaic writing requires students to follow rules. I believe writing has no limits. The limit does not exist! Yes, I totally stole that line from Mean Girls, but I digress. A structure-based model should not determine whether we know “how to write.” One consequence of enforcing Schaffer’s model is that students learn to follow patterns rather than develop as writers. Sure, students may produce organized papers, but they  fail to develop a deeper connection with their ideas, ownership of their voices, and intellectual independence.

First, when students fail to develop a deep connection with their ideas, they struggle to express who they truly are. Our ideas emerge from our experiences, and our experiences often reflect what matters most to us. Following a rigid formula prevents creativity and imagination.

Second, formulaic writing discourages ownership of voice because students write to fulfill expectations rather than express authenticity and agency. To me, Schaffer’s model makes writing feel like the product of a predictable recipe rather than an expression of identity.

Third, let’s talk about the dependency that formulaic writing creates. Many students, especially high school students, arrive in college knowing only the standard five-paragraph essay because it has been taught for years. Once they get to college, they struggle because that structure is not always what professors require. Unless you have a very rigid professor, college writing is more flexible and adaptable. Intellectual dependency becomes a problem because formulaic writing encourages mechanical thinking rather than inspiring students to become independent thinkers. Without a template, many students can complete writing assignments, but don’t become writers because writers make their own decisions.

Now, let’s talk about the pedagogical method as a whole. Wiley mentions, “Teachers can simply refer to this rubric in responding to student writing, making the task of evaluation much simpler, more uniform, and less time-consuming.“

I have always said, and will continue to maintain, that teachers are not entirely at fault. Most of the time, they are following a curriculum and are expected to teach formulaic writing. Therefore, my critique is towards the educational systems and pedagogical methods rather than toward teachers themselves.

Wiley gives the impression that he sympathizes with teachers because he recognizes the difficult conditions many of them work in. Although teachers often face overcrowded classrooms and limited resources, students are primarily the ones affected by this quick-grading method. They become dependent on formulas, and that is something I don’t support because it hinders their ability to become independent thinkers.

In this quote, Wiley pretty much summarizes the idea of students handing over their intellectual independence to a formula. I see it as if students are walking a path that has already been paved for them when they should be instead, exploring discovery and creativity.

“To develop as writers, students must develop a repertoire of strategies for dealing effectively with various writing tasks presented to them in different situations. They must also learn to make choices about genre, content, structure, organization, and style; and they must learn to hone their judgments about the effects of the choices they make as writers. Consider that in Schaffer’s approach the goal of writing is to produce an essay of requisite length that contains the correct ratio of detail to commentary. In contrast, real writers must decide what they will compose based on their intentions, who will read their texts, and what effects they want their texts to have on these real and projected readers.”

Now, I want to discuss Antero Garcia’s How Remix Culture Informs Student Writing & Creativity and how I believe it connects to Wiley’s argument against formulaic writing. Wiley suggests resisting formulaic writing because it assumes the same structure can be applied regardless of context, which is unrealistic because writing situations vary drastically. While Wiley critiques Schaffer’s rigid writing model, Garcia encourages the practice of remixing.

Garcia argues that remix culture has become an essential part of how young people learn, create, and communicate. I really enjoyed this article because it made me realize that remix culture is not just in music or digital media. Remixing is something we do every day, whether through writing, communication, or any form of expression. People are constantly transforming existing texts, music, images/videos, and ideas into something new.

From my perspective, remixing is not copying. It is reinventing.  It’s reinventing something with the purpose of cultivating creativity and identity. There has to be more than just traditional texts such as formulaic writing. There has to be remixing in our culture in order for students to express their identities. One of my biggest takeaways from Remixing culture is that it’s a liberatory act because it allows students to challenge dominant narratives and reshape perspectives.

Student Blogs

Writing: A place where our wounds heal

To be a writer is to find healing in writing our sorrows. To be a writer is to know that writing releases our quietest burdens and internal pressures. Because of sorrows and burdens, we have scars that no one can see, but only we can feel. Writing loosens the weight of our burdens. And our scars are splendid because they create a story. 

After reading Expressive Writing, Emotional Upheavals, and Health by James W. Pennebaker and Cindy K. Chung, these were my initial thoughts. I’ve always felt that writing was emotionally healing because of my own experience. After reading the article, I now understand more about the physical effects of expressive writing. One of the studies in the article consisted of having a group of people with elevated blood pressure write about their trauma for a few months. The authors mention, “One month after writing, those who participated in the emotional disclosure condition exhibited lower systolic and diastolic blood pressure (DBP) than before writing. Four months after writing, DBP remained lower than baseline levels.“

I have reflected upon this physical study the authors have made and I’m captivated by how expressive writing can reduce systolic blood pressure, in some way cortisol, and induce a congruent state of calmness. One key factor the authors highlight  is: “It is possible that confronting a traumatic or distressing experience led to reactions aimed for in exposure-based treatments.” Pennebaker and Chung suggest one way to treat trauma is by exposure-based methods in order to channel it instead of internalizing it. As they mention, people and students who wrote about their emotional upheavals showed improvements and positive behavioral changes. Furthermore, these individuals achieved positive outcomes even after recently experiencing a negative circumstance in their lives. 

The principal idea of the article is that unprocessed traumatic experiences induce decline in physical health and weaken psychological well-being. The authors’ depth in all the studies conducted shows that expressive writing is a way to channel trauma, leading to a healing process and improvement. One of the most striking ideas in this article is the importance of naming and labeling traumatic experiences. Many people are in denial and don’t know how to manage emotional trauma. They choose to silence their pain and it consumes them. As a result, many individuals have health issues because the emotional burden disrupts their physical well-being. This made me think about the relevance of therapists, mental-health mentors, and, in general mentors who find methods for people to assimilate their trauma. And if you think about it, all of these professionals use writing in some way to help individuals accept that there’s an internal trauma –and that it’s okay to name it as it is because there are hundreds of people who go through it too.

I feel I have a story for everything, but I just can’t help but see a correlation in my life with the articles I’ve read. In this article, the authors mention,  “Not talking about a traumatic experience is also associated with a breakdown of one’s social network, a decrease in working memory, sleep disruptions, alcohol and drug abuse, and an increased risk for additional 38 traumatic experiences. Expressive writing or the unfettered talking about a trauma can often short circuit this process. “ This quote spoke to me because it reminded me of the anxiety crisis I had three years ago. I had insomnia, felt extremely anxious, but for the first time in my life had therapy. One of the best methods for me to overcome this anxiety episode with the help of a therapist was writing and reframing my thoughts. I actually named that process: reframing my brain sequence. The therapist recognized that I had internalized emotional issues for so long that my body and mind had a crash-out. She was right. I am a person who, instead of venting out internal upheavals, I absorb them. Especially at that time, I felt that I didn’t want to be a burden for anybody, so I didn’t ask for help, until my body and mind burnt out. I wasn’t producing melatonin because my cortisol level was too high and my nervous system was unstable. But I was able to get my body and mind back to a normal state.

I share this because through that experience, for the first time in my life, I didn’t choose to internalize trauma anymore. The authors mention, “Narrating an emotional event into the bigger picture might help to integrate the experience into one’s greater knowledge structures and personal identity.” Now I look at that negative experience as a stepping stone that helped me structure my identity,  revealing strength I didn’t even know I had. Writing poems about my internal issues allowed me to find a firm version of myself. 

Now I understand better why authors write memoirs. Writing their experiences developed identity formation. One of the best examples is Anne Frank’s “Diary of a young girl” which we have clear conclusions from her memoir. 1. Expressive writing as emotional processing 2. Psychological resilience and 3. Shaping identity. Anne Frank documented her traumatic experience as a way to vent out her desperation, threat, and isolation. Making her memoir a remarkable document that, to this day, has great relevance in literature. Her writing allowed her to process emotions that otherwise would have remained unspoken. Through her writing, Anne Frank maintained hope, identity, and perseverance. And that is the beauty of writing. Writing is the painting of someone’s voice. Writing can help someone endure and make meaning from trauma and emotional upheavals. 

My ending thought on Pennebaker and Chung is the following quote: “Writing is medicine. It’s an appropriate antidote to injury. It is an appropriate companion to any difficult change.” – Julia Cameron. To me, this means writing is the place where our wounds learn to speak, and our souls begin to heal.

Student Blogs

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.

Student Blogs

Identity is a fluid narration. Every life holds more than one truth.

When reading Jonathan Alexander and Michelle Gibson’s “Queer Composition(s): Queer Theory in the Writing Classroom),” one of the first things I thought about was the importance of identity in the classroom and outside the classroom. Identity isn’t just a writing voice, writing agency, or persona; it’s who we truly are and our right to express our stories. The authors describe how they used Dorothy Allison’s Bastard Out of Carolina in a first-year composition class to highlight how personal stories are told and how writers can empower insights about themselves. The article explores the evolution of queer theory scholarship in composition studies, challenging the ideology that writing should only center academic pedagogies. The authors go beyond demonstrating that queer theory involves social and political norms, family structures, and the construction of our identities.

One significant idea from this article is that queer theory introduced marginalized perspectives into the classroom and transformed composition into a process pedagogy. The authors state, “for queer theory asks us to question, at the most fundamental levels and in the most essential ways, the nature of authorship, representation, and the process of coming into being through language.”  It’s impacting how many people may think that queer theory is about just the inclusion of LGBTQ writers’ and scholars’ perspectives in writing studies, but it’s much more profound. It is about empowering identity, empowering story, and challenging the social norms of fixed identities. Queer theory shows us the power of language by bridging differences and giving a sense of belonging to communities. It wasn’t until the 1990s that queer theory offered scholarship to voices who felt they couldn’t express themselves in writing due to heteronormative narratives.

Many of the articles the authors mentioned, such as Margot Francis’s “On the Myth of Sexual Orientation: Field Notes from the Personal, Pedagogical, and Historical Discourses of Identity,” were remarkable works that broke stereotypes and resonated with many students’ and individuals’ experiences. Francis infers that the openness of identity categories and sexual orientation gives many people the confidence to understand that their sexual orientation should not be fixed by society. The importance of scholarly articles that use language connecting deeply with readers is essential. However, before the study of queer theory, scholarly articles were shaped by dominant narratives that excluded the perspectives and experiences of queer writers and readers. These dominant narratives were rooted in heteronormative approaches, which silenced the identities of queer individuals because this was considered “normal” in society.

In other words, this was the only story told to the public. Anybody catching my drift.

Of course, I see an enormous connection with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED Talk “The Danger of a Single Story.” I connect them by reflecting on how identity is often treated as something already decided before we even begin to write or narrate. One thought I take away from Adichie’s talk is that identity is not just lived; it is narrated. The stories others tell about a specific group can create boundaries and rob them of their dignity. Therefore, in both the article and the TED Talk, I hear an echo of identity as fluid rather than predetermined. Identity cannot be generalized based on a single narration or experience. One single story, one perspective, can ruin the vibrant culture or identity of a group. One single story becomes a blindfold that prevents people from seeing past prejudice. One single story dismisses the essence and humanity of a person. One of my biggest takeaways is that every life holds more than one truth. And all of those truths should be valued.

The article and the TED Talk bring to mind my own experience. I’m from El Salvador, and I don’t know how many are familiar with my country’s history, but in 2015, El Salvador was labeled “the murder capital of the world” due to having the highest homicide rate per capita of any country. Every day, there were many murders. Government corruption and its association with gangs made my country a dangerous place for many innocent people. Many innocents lost their lives. For years, El Salvador was labeled as a poor, dangerous country bombarded by gang activity.

Years back, (which happened here in the U.S) I remember vividly when one of my former neighbors asked what country my family was from, and my mom, with a smile on her face, said, “El Salvador.” The first words that came out of that man’s mouth were, “Oohh, you guys gangsters from MS-13 or what gang?” in a joking manner. Then he said, “I’m just playing.” Though we knew he was joking, I could see my mom’s face drop slightly in embarrassment when she heard that. All I could think in that moment was: if only he knew the beautiful volcanic landmarks of El Salvador. How about the innocent, hard-working people who were labeled as criminals? How about its rich archaeological sites? How about my family, who don’t belong to a gang and have worthy jobs? The danger of a single story. My neighbor had one narrative, one fixed identity, that robbed us of our dignity.

In 2019, Nayib Bukele was elected president and became the first leader to dismantle the corrupt government parties that had dominated for years. Bukele brought dramatic change by eliminating gangs, raising the economy, and establishing one of the most sophisticated security systems in the region. Fast forward to the present, after two-hundred and one years, El Salvador has been labeled the safest country in Central America. I mention all of this because identities are constructed as fluid narrations (Alexander and Gibson). Identities are not fixed. They are not permanent. Identities change over time. Identity is something we tell through personal stories, cultural background, and lived experiences. We have the right to express our stories to break stereotypes and give voice to silenced and underrepresented communities.

Student Blogs

Education as a fire that never goes out. Writing a process to find one’s voice & identity.

After reading Bell Hooks’s Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom, I couldn’t help but say this woman is on fire. In this week’s reading, I was able to acknowledge not only a teacher, writer, and intellectual scholar, but also a woman anchored in justice and deeply committed to the healing power of education. Hooks is so real. So raw. Her voice is like a flame that refuses to go out. She leaves you wanting to read more. She writes with such sharpness. As I was reading, I felt the urgency in her voice, the urgency of someone who refuses to accept a world where learning is anything less than liberating. More than just an academic force, education became a weapon for Hooks—one she used to trespass the oppression of a white‑dominated society and transgress not only intellectually, but emotionally, mentally, and socially.

One of the sentences that struck me was: “School was still a political place, since we were always having to counter white racist assumptions that we were genetically inferior, never as capable as white peers, even unable to learn.” This line captures Hooks’s political and emotional truth about her learning experience. At the beginning of her academic journey, she lost her love for school because of discrimination and marginalization. As Hooks explains, obedience to a white‑dominated system was expected from Black students, limiting their practice of freedom. How could a Black student learn if the system had already decided their place within white society? Regardless of the opposition, hooks was relentless and kept pressing forward.

Education was a political struggle for Hooks. But I also feel that her struggle ignited an unstoppable fire inside her, leading her to view learning as a form of liberation. Even though she had painful experiences with marginalization, she believed that education was enabling. Focusing on the academic aspect, Hooks also didn’t have the best pedagogical experiences in some of her classes. She said she felt bored and that the banking system didn’t interest her. Her experiences led her to dissect different ways for students to experience learning as liberatory.

The brilliance of Hooks’s article is in the blueprint she developed for her own pedagogical practice. Her negative experiences didn’t stop her from pursuing education. Quite the opposite: her experiences led her to realize she didn’t want to be the kind of professor students dreaded. Hooks mentions that Paulo Freire became her mentor in radical pedagogy, inspiring her to teach differently than she was taught. Another important figure who influenced her was a Vietnamese Buddhist monk who emphasized the teacher as healer. I had never in my life heard of such a thing, or of a pedagogy that emphasizes wholeness. This made me realize that I had experienced this type of learning back in high school. For all four years, I had the same science teacher who regarded his students as whole humans. And now that I think about it thoroughly, I see him through the lens of “the teacher as healer.”

I will never forget him—Mr. Randle. He was my teacher, but he was also a mentor for many students. Mr. Randle supported my mental health throughout high school. I looked forward to his class because I knew it wouldn’t be just a lecture. I knew his class would be filled with life lessons and words of wisdom. As a class, we all felt like we were his children. Someone we could really count on. He even helped one classmate who became homeless get out of that situation.

(Science labs were never boring in Mr. Randles’s class)

The reason I’m mentioning my former science teacher is that I can relate to how Hooks envisioned a practice of radical pedagogy, which is exactly how I felt in Mr. Randle’s class. Classrooms should be places where professors and students have collaborative relationships with one another.

-ME VISITING MR. RANDLE YEARS LATER AFTER HS GRADUATION BECAUSE I NEEDED HIS MENTORING

Hooks argues that we need an education that heals an uninformed, unknowing spirit. Many of us have had classes in the past with no excitement—just boring lecturing—and the banking system was implemented (and most of the time, we don’t even remember the teacher’s name). The concept of self‑actualization is very relevant because teachers and students must understand that learning is not just in the mind. As Hooks explains, self‑actualization is the process of becoming fully alive, a learning process that requires all aspects of a whole person, not just the intellectual. Hooks’s writing is always a self‑reflective practice that enlightens me not only intellectually, but spiritually and mentally. My biggest reflection from Hooks is that education is a form of liberation. Education is transformative. Learning is blooming and evolving.

Murray’s article, “Teach Writing as a Process, Not a Product,” leans more toward the pedagogical aspect of writing. I really like his idea of teaching the writer instead of correcting the writing. His argument is that students need to be taught writing as a process, rather than through the usual methods some English teachers use, such as grading grammar, focusing on errors, and critiquing structure. Sometimes it almost feels like teachers compare students’ writing to professional literature. I reflect that teachers shouldn’t respond as judges; instead, they should respond as readers to help students (the writers) clarify meaning. Murray’s argument is very relevant because it inspires students to develop their own writing process and voice. Hooks’s and Murray’s ideas connect because they both view learning as a living process. They both believe it’s a process that involves humanity, discovering our voice, and growing not only academically, but mentally as well. Hooks and Murray reflect on the complexity of being a student in a world where learning is shaped by expectations rather than a process to find one’s voice.

Student Blogs

My brain after reading Lauer: Enlightened

Photo Credit: Pixabay/Gerd Altmann

Rhetoric & Composition by Janice M. Lauer made me realize that, although I had taken classes that explored rhetoric studies and pedagogy, it wasn’t until this article that I gained a deeper understanding of the foundations of rhetoric and its impact on English and writing studies. Rhetoric became an evolving disciplinary study in the 1960s that broadened pedagogy for writing scholars, teachers, and students. Lauer emphasizes that over the past thirty years, “rhetoric and composition” has become a full-fledged discipline within English Studies (Lauer, “Composition”). According to Lauer, composition was once considered only a teaching practice, and contingent faculty typically taught writing. Over the following decades of the 1960s, rhetoric and composition saw an explosion of theory-building (Lauer, “Composition”). Before rhetoric became a full-fledged study, it seems to me that writing and English teachers had a monotonous and limited way of teaching writing because that was what they had learned in the past. Before the emergence of rhetoric, students and writers were limited to their own ideas and could not explore their writing processes. The emergence of rhetoric opened the door to new theories and features of writing that impacted not only an academic field across the country, but also created social change.

One key factor I reflected on in this article is that it outlines the foundations of rhetorical theory and its influence not only academically but socially as well. Rhetoric was overseen in the past because the study of composition was prioritized. With its metamorphosis into a full-fledged study, scholars were able to see the relevance of rhetoric in communication and social circumstances. According to Lauer, rhetoric didn’t become a field of study because universities suddenly established it overnight, but because struggling professors needed it. There was no academic foundation for scholars to teach writing before. Professors lacked research in the field of writing because its origin—rhetoric—had been set aside until a group of scholars interested in written discourse paved the way for rhetoric to emerge in universities.

Through Lauer’s article, I’m able to acknowledge the importance of recognizing rhetoric as an interdisciplinary, multimodal, and transformational study because no single field could fully explain or compare to how writing works, as it’s intertwined with many other fields. Rhetoric comes from Western studies (the time of the ancient Greeks), crossing the fields of anthropology, history, and philosophy. Since its emergence in writing studies in the 1960s, rhetoric has crossed with many other fields such as linguistics, psychology, sociology, literary studies, and, prominently, has developed new cognitive theories of writing.  For instance, Lauer mentions the development of a cognitive model of writing designed by Linda Flower and John Hayes based on experienced writers. The model consisted of writing features that were goal-directed to reshape the writer’s cognitive process. The study of rhetoric reshaped the writing and cognitive processes of writers and scholars in ways that allowed them to find new pedagogical methods.

Another key point in the article is rhetoric’s social impact outside the classroom. The study of this field extended beyond academic institutions because there was a growing focus on technological writing when computers emerged. Rhetoric and composition influenced theorists to study the relationship between technology and writing (Lauer). One of my biggest takeaways is that rhetoric becoming its own independent field was one of the first milestones for writers to be seen as thinkers rather than just students. Writers gained the freedom to explore their writing processes through new research. I feel that students experienced a sense of freedom in writing to diverse audiences once rhetoric was implemented as a study because they were no longer limited to directing their papers to just one audience (teachers).

I could say much more about what struck me in Lauer’s article, but I would end up writing twenty pages. What I want to emphasize is that only writers can truly feel and understand the impact of rhetoric in our writing. We can say that through writing, we can explore tone, style, genre, and direct our work to specific audiences. Because of rhetoric’s emergence, we can choose to study writing and have access to a plethora of research from scholars who devoted themselves to studying rhetoric and composition. And for that, I am forever grateful. 

My thoughts on the highlights emerging from our first two classes are that I feel at home here. I feel rooted in this community because we are all so alike yet so uniquely and beautifully different. We all share a passion for writing, and we have transformed our life experiences into insight. Since the first class, I have felt it was a safe space, and I genuinely enjoy coming. I love the writing exercises, and I feel we can truly express our thoughts here through writing. So everyone, thank you for being a lovely class, and thank you to Dr. Zamora for making it a great one ❤

Student Blogs

Writing is my Niche

My name is Nathaly, but those close to me also call me Naty, Nat, Natachi, or Natalia. You may call me however you’d like as well. I am the youngest of three sisters, and they have been my built‑in best friends ever since we were little girls. My mother and my two sisters moved to the U.S. when I was eight years old. Although we had visited before when I was younger, it wasn’t until that age that we fully settled here. For part of my childhood, I lived in my home country, El Salvador. I am grateful for my roots, where I come from, and how they have shaped my perspective. Like many who migrate or flee their countries, my mother wanted better opportunities for us. During the other part of my childhood here in the U.S., my mother always embraced our Latin culture at home. She played music from artists such as Julio Iglesias, José José, Emmanuel, Camilo Sesto, and others. From a young age, I paid close attention to the songs. As I grew older, I realized that many of these songs were not just lyrics or simple words — they were art and beautiful poems that reflected human nature. This music became one of the reasons I wanted to bring my own voice to life. I wanted to write my own poem one day.

While moving between countries and enduring emotional challenges, writing became an outlet for expressing thoughts I couldn’t say aloud. This is another reason writing became a space where I could express myself and build agency. At that time, I was very timid and kept my emotions contained. Writing about my experiences and feelings through reflective papers and creative stories released all the emotions I had kept within. Not only did writing let go an internal weight, but it also became part of my growth and healing process. Through writing, I was able to see the person I was becoming.

Photo credit: Pinterest/Randilee

In my junior year of high school, my teachers introduced the idea of “finding your niche” to help us understand what path we might take in life and eventually what major we would choose in college. My immediate thought was, “Writing Studies, or something related to writing, because this is what I identify with.” After high school, I couldn’t come directly to Kean University, but I completed an associate’s degree at Union County College. After that, I transferred to Kean and completed my B.A. in English/Writing. After graduating last year, I decided I wanted to continue pursuing a higher academic level. I am pursuing an M.A. in Writing Studies because I feel it is the next step in my intellectual development as a writer.P

Photo Credit: Pinterest/wwwmaryamnaeemi11

Personally, I believe that completing an M.A. in Writing Studies would also honor my mother’s sacrifice. This is the future she envisioned for her daughter. More than just a career or intellectual goal, writing has become part of who I am. Every poem or piece of writing I’ve created holds a piece of my heart and mind.