Errors and Expectations: Chapter Three

Syntax

Okay, let me say something right away. Mina Shaughnessy knows her stuff, and this book is dense with information. It’s a grammarian’s dream, riddled with complex terminology for grammatical structures that I have, admittedly, had to struggle with to fully understand. As I want to make these blog entries as useful as possible, I will only offer the most useful information from the chapter.

First, a definition of syntax (in case you were wondering): a system for indicating the relationships between words in sentences (46).

The main idea here is that basic writers who do not understand how to write academically "fake it": "…This unfamiliarity with what might be called the dialect of formal writing leads some writers to affect the style without having mastered it. The result is an unconscious parody of that style, often a grotesque mixture of rudimentary errors, formal jargon, and strained syntax…" (45). Basic writers also struggle with translating their complex ideas into solid academic writing.

The major syntactical errors discussed in the chapter are accidental errors, blurred patterns, consolidation errors, and errors in juxtaposition. You could probably guess that things get complex when Shaughnessy is discussing each type of error, but the point is that these are errors that occur when students try to translate their speech patterns into writing. They make typos. They think they’re following a common pattern, but then switch into another: "By going to college a young person could get an increase his knowledge about the world he lived in" (50). They aren’t sure how to combine sentences correctly, either through coordination or subordination. They mess with the common sentence, verb, and complement structure and then get lost: "It is my belief that what you do you should be praised for it" (68).

We’ve all seen these types of syntactical errors, but why do they happen?

First, the basic writer simply doesn’t know enough about the language of academic English to effectively manage the necessary consolidations (73). Limited vocabulary might cause problems, too—they might know the words, but they aren’t able to call them forth when immersed in the writing process (74).

Even when students use "big" words, they can use them incorrectly, like "The man grew up in a maladjusted environment" (76). The writer intended to say that the environment was bad, thus placing "maladjusted" before the noun it was meant to modify, not knowing that "maladjusted" is "semantically bound to the subject, man" (page 76).

What do we do about this? It’s important to really talk to students about why a word won’t work in a certain situation, explaining why it won’t work as well as contexts in which it would work, thus giving the student a guideline to work from. Practice in sentence combining is also useful for the basic writer (page 78).

Second, the basic writer doesn’t know how writing works—he applies speaking rules to writing, not understanding that there is a difference. Also, the idea of needing to be perfect when writing that some students have and that is supported by some writing teachers also causes problems because students will deliver a first draft without going through and objectively considering what is being said and how it might be said better (79). Of course, a student must also know what it is he wants to say to be able to go back and rework his ideas (80).

What do we do about this? Focusing on each stage of the writing process is critical (81). Get students talking with each other about their writing topics—this helps them sharpen their own thoughts (82). Several models were noted, but are basically this: break the class into smaller chunks (6-12 students) and ask students to work on writing assignments (often asking them to solve a problem), first individually and then collaboratively. The teacher plans assignments and offers insight when necessary. This changes the classroom dynamic, making for more independent writers (page 83-4).

Teachers also look at student writing mostly when grading, which means that she "tries to see what keeps the paper from being understood" (84). Once the piece has been read and graded, the student is "done" with it—he resists revisiting it. It’s much more effective to be reading throughout the process, helping the student best articulate his ideas (84).

Proofreading must be taught. This doesn’t come naturally: "In proofreading the reader must be trained to look consciously at what he would normally need to ignore—features of the code itself" (85). Don’t just correct errors. Train your students to see their errors for themselves.

Third, students doubt themselves, and by trying to write (putting themselves out there), they will reveal potential inadequacies (85). The grammar problems get magnified by the types of assignments we give, such as an essay question. This is not the type of situation that would ordinarily give rise to a natural desire to communicate one’s ideas on the page. So if the writer doesn’t care about the assignment, he certainly isn’t going to care about whether it’s grammatically correct or not (86).

What do we do about this? Make assignments relevant to them.

Finally, above all else, Shaughnessy stresses that students must write a LOT if they are ever to get better. I’ll end this post with this golden nugget, justifying the purpose of writing not just in the writing classroom but across the curriculum:

"Writing is, after all a learning tool as well as a way of demonstrating what has been learned. It captures ideas before they are lost in the hubbub of discourse; it encourages precision; it requires, even in the less autonomous work of taking down lecture and reading notes, that the writer make judgments about what is essential, and finally, it lodges information at deeper levels of memory that can be reached by more passive modes of learning." (88)