betajames

Among the ideas behind assignments like Mashup Scholarship and Pop Up Scholarship are that students need lots of practice writing and that they need to perform this practice in different ways. By explaining why and reflecting on how they perform academic writing instead of just producing 4-5 essays over 16 weeks, I like to think that more is happening here. The performance, i.e., the essay, is but one way of showing proficiency. The ability to reflect on that performance before, during, and after is just as important.

Such assignments also challenge how we should conduct ourselves in relation to academic writing. We need not be serious as a heart attack when discussing particulars of the kinds of writing students will be expected to do in college. There is no reverence in Pop Up Scholarship, given how much I encourage students to approach the assignment in much the way Pop Up Video did its own subject matter, i.e., with an affable, critical, knowledgeable, and playful edge. Furthermore, Mashup Scholarship invites students to do what other writing instructors may balk at.

However, both assignments focus on somewhat specific aspects of writing, including audience, grammar and syntax, organization, and source materials. Neither account much for argument or idea development, though, focusing and reflecting instead on the end result over whatever process produced it. This is not to say that my first-year writing courses are bereft of discussion concerning argument, idea development, or writing processes, only that I haven't devised a clear assignment addressing them. I think I might have something for my Fall 2011 class that does, though.

During my first year at UM-Flint, I had the privilege of working with a fourth-year student on an independent study project about comic-book writing. The student's semester-end project was a 25-page script of an origin story for a new superhero. Helping the student get to that point was an earlier assignment in which he reverse-engineered Dennis O'Neil's Batman: Birth of the Demon, breaking it down into constituent parts for further examination, seeing how the frames, panels, and pages fit together, and where O'Neil likely began.

A recent column on plagiarism got me thinking about reverse-engineering again. Even if a student were to reverse-engineer a plagiarized essay, they will undoubtedly still learn something worthwhile in the process, yes? Both Mashup and Pop Up Scholarship as well as some of the required reading in my first-year courses lean toward the idea of reverse engineering. This is something I want to explore more with students. So, similar to Mashup Scholarship in that I ask students to do something they and/or other professors may have reservations about, reverse-engineering an essay asks students to fill in the steps that led to final publication.

I'm still working on the specifics of the assignment, but here's some starting language:

Choose one of the longform articles below or submit another for approval. In an entry this week, provide context for and a summary of your chosen article. That is, note the author, the publication in which the article appears and when, etc. It's pretty much impossible to reverse-engineer an essay you haven't read.

Using either the sample steps provided below or your own identified process, reverse-engineer your chosen article. Over the next two weeks, we will move from revised drafts to shitty drafts to outlines to brainstorming to initial curiosity/perplexity. In other words, we will work backwards until we have reached a satisfactory starting point for your chosen article.

 

I welcome any/all feedback on this. Do you see particular use in devising such an assignment?

I read when I should be writing. I'm often more interested in the ideas of others than my own. Most days, my Twitter profile features many more links to readings than my own original content. The same can be observed of early entries in this space. I posted snippets of articles I deemed worth the time of any visitors here. I even started a feature of sorts called "What You Might Have Missed," shortened to #wymhm for easier archiving and searching both here and on Twitter.

Given the relative wealth of news and information available online as well as the time of day I shared some of that wealth, I thought it worthwhile to compile elsewhere what I offered. This lasted for a while, at least until I read one too many general, passive-aggressive tweets about blogs lacking original content. I gave in to those arguments and stopped #wymhm altogether.

However, I've received the occasional inquiry about bringing #wymhm back. Not everyone keeps the morning online schedule I do, and I think one of the benefits of curation is that it allows us to come to links more on our own time. We don't have to keep such an attentive eye to those we follow online if we know links will be suggested again elsewhere. We don't have to be as concerned with answering in the affirmative to the question posed in the video above. 

The video also speaks to the absurd demand we place upon ourselves and others, how we can become blind to the most practical reading we should be doing, how an awareness of what's happening in the world in terms of events and ideas often isn't as important as reading what will allow us to cross the street and still exist.

But reading isn't just about keeping up with current events and new/old ideas. And curation isn't about posting links on a blog in lieu of original content. Both are important because they allow for better, deeper reflection on the part of the reader/curator. For this reason, not everything I post to Twitter will be part of future entries here, only those items of some persistent importance.

This is because I was privileged to witness a recent back-n-forth online that had conversants bemoaning the lack of worthwhile news about technology. Not much reported today will probably be important or relevant tomorrow, much less a week from now, they agreed. So, my focus for these specific entries will be on sharing those more "timeless" pieces.  

This isn't to write that everything here will be serious, though. After all, the title I gave this space is "Against Multiphrenia," which means that I try to work contrary to Kenneth Gergen's idea of technologies that increase social contact also draw us in multiple and conflicting directions. In other words, a lolcat or two may sometimes be part of an entry or three.

Besides, originality is overrated anyway. The creativity and originality featured via such entries will be in how I contextualize and justify what I share. Articles and items can speak for themselves in their own spaces; that's not what will happen here.

So, #wymhm is now #dyr. I plan to do this on Tuesdays and Thursdays to account for my fall teaching schedule as well as time sufficient for reflecting on what should be allocated. As mentioned in yesterday's announcement, I look forward to sharing with you.

Announcements are funny things. In the time taken to announce something, we could often spend our time better, perhaps devoting ourselves to whatever we happen to be announcing. As a writing teacher, I have an acute awareness of this, often crafting entries that do little more than announce new course materials or the next assignment when I could/should be reading current course materials or assessing old assignments. 

Announcements serve a function, though, given variance in attention and value. We appreciate the occasional heads up on things deemed important. This is what announcements are and do. This is important to me, they say. I want you to be aware of this, to know this, to be prepared for it.

Beyond the handful of invitations we sent, M and I didn't announce our wedding. On a formal basis, this wasn't supposed to happen until after the event anyway, but even on an informal basis there were many we didn't tell. I kept quiet about it on Twitter and in my summer course. When asked why I wouldn't be providing an update on the course project until the last week of July, I only replied that I would be too busy.

The lack of a formal announcement until after the wedding produced a customary amount of congratulatory cards and notes, including a quaint $10 check from M's great aunt. The lack of an informal announcement online produced a similar influx of congratulatory remarks, including a "sweet zombie jesus!" from Ethan Watrall, which remains a favorite exclamation of mine. Some were bewildered, too, thinking they had overlooked a previous announcement. Such a mixture of confusion and surprise occurs when something isn't announced.

Announcements signal intent, too. This is what happened, they say. This is happening, is about to happen, will happen. As the title of this entry implies, I want to announce something about this space: There will be more here more often. I will be resurrecting a past feature or two. I will be writing more focused pieces about my fall courses, my interests scholarly and otherwise. In other words, stuff's gonna be happening here on a more regular basis. Any confusion or surprise resulting from this or that will be because of this or that, not because I didn't announce it first. You've been warned, dear reader, and I look forward to sharing with you.

I’m big on shitty first drafts and writing-to-learn activities. In my view, shitty first drafts are one of the goals of this #560WR collaborative authoring project, if only so that we have something tangible to work with should we decide to go beyond semester’s end. Something tangible sits now on my desk, a hard-copy draft of each of the seven chapters for the Book. 

It’s quite clear to me that all students are quite capable in introducing and integrating secondary source material. That all were able to draw and apply so much from the research pool is a clear, positive aspect of the project overall. The wealth of block quotes and summary provided in these drafts, though, are unnecessary for a Book and instead give the appearance of a lengthy literature review. Furthermore, when aiming for a Book as the end product, I think there needs to be integration and uniformity in the content produced. There can’t be sole reliance on writers writing independently of each other followed by slapping together their 10-page offerings with the expectation it will all work.

Perhaps JS was right all along to suggest something other than a Book (SOTAB) during Week 2. That’s not to imply we’d get away with doing less via a group blog or a wiki, only that maybe we’d be better served by SOTAB. Different forms of scholarly communication have different demands and, based on the apparent reluctance of certain chapter drafts to make arguments, some kind of digital reference or repository might have worked better. I’m not writing now to gauge the depth of my hindsight, though; that’s for after I’ve locked in final grades. I will offer this teaser: Writing a Book is a noble endeavor, but perhaps an unrealistic venture for eight weeks with 14 graduate students. 

I offer that because some chapters revealed writers’ interest in writing what they wanted rather than committing and contributing in a more collaborative way to the project itself. Of course, this may also be related to the frustration and hesitation mentioned earlier. I know that if I’m more comfortable writing about X instead of Y, I’ll do just that even if Y is the main focus of what I’m writing. So, I don’t fault anyone for the chapters drafted. To be honest, I’m impressed we made it this far. 

I provided all feedback to students with the understanding that we are still in pursuit of a Book as the end result of the project. This admission as well as last week’s entry may hinder or even sabotage the revision work of some researcher/writer pairs, but I’m hopeful that a majority will engage, if not humor me. Perhaps their revisions will reveal their own ideas and opinions about the future of this collaborative authoring project. There’s a lot still to be done with the content produced, and I look forward to discussing with #560WR students their ideas and opinions about the project’s future on Thursday, June 30, 2011, from 4:15PM to 6:45PM.

The second scheduled in-class writing session was marked by artificial lighting. Having found the Torch bountiful in distraction and noise, we retreated to our classroom. This change was welcomed by some, but not by others. As last week's location wasn't conducive for all, I observed much the same this week.

While lacking the distractions and noise of the Torch, the classroom also lacks fresh air and windows, either of which may have been an unfortunate influence on the productivity of some researcher/writer pairs. Furthermore, less potential distraction made for greater focus, but also greater possibility for burnout. As the session wore on, there were more than a few audible sighs and rubbing of the eyes, both of which may have led to pleading by some for a break in the monotony. I had nothing to offer beyond declaring a 10-minute break up and away from our computer screens.

However, many researcher/writer pairs were in full-on writing mode for much of the session. Some pairs took to further brainstorming, but all had their game faces on and appeared serious about getting ideas down. I also appreciated those who worked within Google Docs as this enabled me to see their writing in action. At this point, I have no concerns about the seven 20-page chapter drafts due next week.

Given this lack, I want to look ahead and entertain some possible futures for this collaborative writing project. Week 7 will be our first and perhaps only editing and proofreading session. Each researcher/writer pair will bring two hard copies of their completed, 20-page chapter draft for peer review. My expectation is that each pair will provide substantive feedback on two chapter drafts. My suggestion is that each pair will do this for the chapter before and the chapter after their own, i.e., the Chapter 3 pair will read and respond to Chapter 2 and Chapter 4.

With differences of opinion about the location most conducive to writing work, researcher/writer pairs will be free to go wherever they wish at 6PM. For that first half hour, though, we will meet in our classroom and discuss particular approaches to peer review. Come 730PM, we will reconvene in the classroom for further discussion.

I anticipate at least some of that discussion will be about the future of the project. While this depends in part on the status of each chapter, I want to think beyond the end of the semester. Right now, I see at last three possibilities:

1. Students decide to go their own way, continuing written work divorced from the collaborative writing project. I remain available for feedback and guidance, but the project itself ends with the semester.
2. Students decide to continue the project, either toward a print publication or something else. Perhaps there is a fruitful, realistic discussion about what's attainable vs. what's desired, ending in the construction of a blog or a wiki as well as the transformation of current project content.
3. Students decide to leave the project in my hands, allowing me as executive editor to do as thou wilt or with email notifications of changes to and updates on the project.

As #560WR remains an experiment, I'm unsure if any one of these possible futures could be indicative of failure or success.

I think this writing session happened at the right time. Given comments on last week's entry about lack of communication and direction, meeting face-to-face with the expressed purpose of writing appeared to be just what we needed. To be honest, I'm unsure now about addressing concerns voiced there as the Torch writing session appears to have taken care of most/all of them. 

Among the most productive were those researcher/writer pairs sitting across from other researcher/writer pairs. I often observed them talking over their laptops to each other about their respective work. These cross-pair conversations were almost more helpful than those in-pair discussions. 

However, the bar environment wasn't conducive for all. The noise level was about what I expected, but I know not everyone is able to work under such conditions. Space was an additional, related issue as we all had to fit our food and drinks alongside bulky laptops and piles of articles and books. We'll be meeting in our regular classroom on the UM-Flint campus next week, so I expect both noise and space will be non-issues.

This is a rather short entry, though, because I want to direct audience attention to reflective entries by MBr and RA. Neither entry was required, but both are quite helpful in gleaning additional perspectives on this collaborative authoring project.

It's hard to write about a role that you have very little, or no experience with. The social role of the teacher, for example, is one that some may have first-hand experience with, or may only have knowledge about from scholarly articles. Either way, it isn't something you cannot write about, even if you have never been in that role. I know for some, writing about a role they've never stepped foot in makes them feel unsure, but I know from my own experience, it can be done.

What this class is is an exercise in the basest components of research with an eye toward contributing to a larger discussion. We are originating, researching, and synthesizing new discussion for outside consumption. *: The word "book" has attracted far too much angst in the past 4 weeks. I don't care if this is a book, a wiki, a novella, an ebook, or if these topics end up lacking the cohesion to justify a collection and we all take our pieces and look elsewhere for contribution (although I sincerely doubt the last scenario will happen). What we are trying to do here is to fit our research and writing into a larger assemblage which is itself joining a larger discussion. I knew from the beginning that the most attractive elements of a true TextDash would have difficulty integrating: in-person back-and-forth brainstorming, immersion with many like-minded writers, and developing a well-honed topic/subtopic relationship were all bound to diminish where the participants meet 2.5 hours per week over 8 weeks and necessarily had to do their work away from each other amidst the rest of regular life.