Tag Archives: writing

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.

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.

i beat a dead horse and also give you homework im sorry

Alyssa try not to bring up Edi Giunta or memoir in your blog challenge: failed.

I promise this week’s blog will be shorter, if only because I have some supplemental reading I am providing you all with. I apologize in advance.

The idea of this reading—that writing can be a tool for healing for the body and the soul—is something I am intimately familiar with. Writing has always been an outlet for me. I think you can pick any writer off the street, and nine times out of ten, they would tell you that the writing process is healing for them, too. I love seeing all the way healing comes out of writing, and I love reading Pennebaker and Chung’s explanations as to why it works.

In line with last week’s theme of looking back at our old work and admiring our fluidity, inspired by this week’s theme of writing as healing, I decided to look back at my process essay that I wrote after finishing my memoir for class. Instead of reinventing the wheel, I thought I would share a revised excerpt with you all here:

I did not know where writing this memoir would lead me. I started with a vague idea of what I wanted to write, but I did not know how I would do it. I did not know why I would write it. However, after these four months, I found a common thread between my pieces: these are all moments I know happened. I could tell you what happened, give you a timeline, describe the events on their surface level. I could not tell you what effects these moments had on me, until now.

I write to process. I create, erase, and reshape words until I am once again familiar with the face of my youth. I trace the outline of myself, guided by the writers before me. Louise DeSalvo. Margaux Fragoso. Melida Rodas. Emily Bernard. They hold my hand as I look into the mirror.

If I push too hard, the glass will shatter. I cannot be my younger self again; I cannot fix her problems. I cannot tell her it will be okay. All I can do is look at her through the mirror of memoir, and answer her questions for myself. Who are you? I hope she is fine.

In writing “A Rosary Held So Tight It Leaves Marks”, I see myself through the hundreds of eyes in the mirror. I see myself from the Ikea bookshelf in my childhood room. I see myself from the St. Clare’s bathroom mirror. I see myself in glass, in mugs and phone screens. Memoir surrounds me; I have become comfortable with it.

I would also like to leave you all with another piece of writing that has stuck with me for a long time—the book Writing as a Way of Healing by Louise DeSalvo. DeSalvo, mentioned in my process essay, was a fellow writer of memoir, and recognized the power of writing. I’ve thought a lot about her recently during our class discussions, but I haven’t figured out how to bring her up until now. Quite literally the perfect book for this week! I find that the part of her work that is most relevant to our class discussions so far is her section on the writing process, where she argues that writing must be done in different stages to be effective for healing. She writes, “I’ve come to understand that the most healing way of approaching the writing process is to focus upon the potential and possibilities for growth rather than upon its problems and pitfalls. Knowing what each stage of the process affords us and making explicit our intention for using the process as a healing experience assure us that we will pass through each stage in the most enriching way possible” (DeSalvo, 1999). I am attaching to this blog post a PDF of this chapter for your enjoyment.

Very short blog post this week, but I just thought that sharing is caring—so, enjoy! (Also, no annotations because I was not printing out 40 pages. Sorry!)

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.

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.

My Introduction to Queer Theory

As someone who has never studied, read, or even talked about Queer theory (that I know of), I didn’t understand Jonathan Alexander and Michelle Gibson’s “Queer Compositions: Queer Theory in the Writing Classroom” when I first read it. I became frustrated with the new material and had questions like: 

Is this about how gender has become racialized? Has it? Sexuality has definitely been racialized, with homosexuals being oppressed throughout history, but is it still? If gender is a social construct, does that mean we created it, like we did race, to label people who are different and not seen as ‘normal’ to keep certain stereotypes and expectations alive for systematic and capitalist purposes? 

I’m also taking Race and Ethnic Identities, another theory class, so I’ve gotten used to questioning my own identity. I have been getting lost, however, on how my sexuality and gender could also inform the way I see myself, the world, and how I am treated because of these characteristics. Even how I treat others. During this reading, I was forced to face my own biases. 

Bisexuality in media.

If you’re into pop culture, then you’ve seen Dove Cameron’s wedding everywhere. Her custom Valentino dress was beautiful, and even her Giorgio Armani suit. Gender, and how traditionally women aren’t ‘supposed’ to wear suits to their own wedding, didn’t even cross my mind. Her sexuality did. Alexander and Gibson bring up a good point; identities can and often contain contradictions. (p. 4). 

Whenever a woman celebrity identifies as bisexual, they usually end up with a man (from what I’ve seen). Like just mentioned Dove Cameron or global sensation Billie Eilish. I have never seen either of them out publicly with a woman, yet their music profits off of liking women. Dove Cameron’s (who married Damiano David) most popular song talks about “being a better boyfriend than him” to a girl she seemingly has a crush on while being in a heterosexual relationship at the time. This seems to be the trend.

This phenomenon is why Grammy Award-winning singer Rosalía has repeatedly broken headlines. She is one of the very few female celebrities who identifies as bisexual while simoultaneously has publically been seen in public with her girlfriend.

Can I still question?

Is it okay to call out these contradictions in identity when it comes to someone else’s sexuality? Should we then also call out our own rigid beliefs of how being a part of sexuality influences our own behavior? I identify as a straight Dominican/African woman. Parts of my identity in that include: straight, Domincian/African, and woman. The intersection of my sexuality is fucking me up. 

Amanda Knoradi, along with the article’s original authors, warns against being contained by identity and only seeing things through the lens of the oppressor vs. the oppressed. I am a minority who has been subject to racism, yes. But I am also straight, which I am sure has awarded me some privileges against the latter. One’s that, because my sexuality is considered the ‘normal,’ I have been ignorant to. 

They also state the fluidity of identity, how one can change and how, over time, the media’s perception can as well. Whatever is acceptable is profitable. I hereby apologize to Dove Cameron for my immediate judgment on her sexuality, as I know now it is not my place, but I can’t help but to wonder and question the contradictions in the context of media: 

Have homosexual relationships become profitable when it comes to gay women? Would Billie Eilish’s songs “Lost Cause” and “Lunch” be as markabtable/ profitable if a gay man wrote them? Would she have even written them? Why is that Dove Cameron’s only notable song? Why did she release it now if she’s been publicly bisexual for six years now? Is it possible their sexualities have changed over time, even if I feel like mine has not/will not?

Perhaps I am still being too rigid in my thinking…In the end, I am left with more questions. Different questions, at least. Questions I will be reflecting on after this reading.