Engaging Grammar by Amy Benjamin (Urbana, IL: NCTE, 2007) is conversational, practical, and has an audience of K-12 teachers. It seems that all the best stuff (that I've looked at, anyway) has this audience in mind. I was chatting with a couple of elementary school teachers this evening, though (who teach second and sixth grades), and when I asked them what they talk about regarding grammar, they said the same things...parts of speech, sentence construction, etc. So four years after the second graders learn it, they get it again in sixth grade, and if they wind up in my developmental classes, they get a version of it again in college. Clearly these are concepts that need to be reinforced throughout schooling, and books with a elementary/middle/high school audience are appropriate for college faculty if those faculty are teaching the same things.
What attracts me most to this book is the practicality of it. Theory is important, of course, but teaching ideas are what the busy instructor needs. Chapter 4, "Natural Expertise about Grammar," talks about the fact that native English speakers have innate knowledge about grammar (something reinforced by a variety of sources discussed on this very blog) and that, to get at this innate knowledge, we utilize the start of "Jabberwocky" (61):
"T'was brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy was the borogrove,
And the mome raths outgrabe."
Now, I have to say that as a casual reader, this sort of thing makes my head spin (I try to translate it into actual words), but I have a newfound appreciation for it based on what is suggested (and expanded upon) in the chapter: asking students to identify the meaning of this passage, such as what parts of speech the different words are. The words are nonsense, of course, but students WILL be able to do it, which kind of blows my mind. I can't wait to try it out myself.
Benjamin also suggests in this chapter that we utilize metaphors that make sense to the students and that, by doing this, they'll be more apt to remember the concepts. I have used the house metaphor for essays (the different rooms being paragraphs, the doorways the transitions, the foundation the thesis, the roof the conclusion that makes sure the meaning doesn't get rained on by other ideas), but not for grammar. It makes sense, for example, to talk about adjectives as spices in cooking and coordinating conjunctions as the links in a chain (66). I also like the metaphor that Benjamin cites from Pamela Dykstra's Rhythms of Writing for the independent clause as a bicycle. The wheels (subject and verb) are key to a bicycle. All the other stuff is extra(adjectives, appositives, prepositional phrases, etc.) (67). She also says that a dependent clause is like a wagon, capable of work but only when hitched up to a vehicle (like a bicycle!) (68). I love it. Simple, yet effective.
The final nugget of wisdom that I liked was having students add tag questions to test whether they have a complete sentence or not. For example,
I can't sit at this computer and stare at the screen any longer, can I?
It sounds good, so it's a complete sentence. Something like,
Since I can't sit here any longer, can I?
...isn't going to make a whole lot of sense if the student thinks about it (71).
In Chapter 5, "Usage and Mechanics in Formal and Informal English," Benjamin talks a great deal about how critical audience and purpose are to student writing and correctness. She mentions Maxine Hairston's 1981 article called "Not all Errors Are Created Equal." She found that the most grievous errors to professionals in non-educational fields were those that resulted from the writer's inability to code-switch and "the use of nonstandard verb forms in irregular verbs (brung, brang), double negatives, subject-verb mismatch (he don't), and, of course, the despised use of ain't" (82).
This idea of getting students to understand the value of code-switching based on their purpose and audience, then, is basis for a reframing of the conversation about the rules from the negative to the positive. Don't use poor examples in class; use great ones. Show students what good writers do rather than punishing "bad" writing. Benjamin lists nine "Rules and Guidelines for Clear and Accurate Writing" which, despite its academic title (which is therefore perhaps a bit threatening to students), talks about rules in a way that would be easy to use as a guideline to teach students some of the basic rules for writing, like agreement and commas (83-5).
The Bottom Line:
The practicality of this book makes it worth the effort of perusal. I'll be using it to help guide my instruction. Get thyself to your local/virtual bookstore or library and check it out.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
In case there was any question...
This is a (long) exact quote from the book Engaging Grammar by Amy Benjamin, which has given me some great teaching ideas (that will be discussed in a later post) and also makes a pretty strong statement about what I've been doing in my classes regarding grammar instruction. This is from pages 80 and 81:
Usage is about context (audience and purpose). Effective language is language that is well suited to the context. The traditional way to "teach" usage (and it's usually ineffective) is this: The teacher gives a rule of Standard English, such as Subjects and verbs must agree with each other in number. The teacher then explains what this concept means, giving examples. Students then are given an exercise in which two verbs, one agreeing with the subject and one not agreeing, are enclosed in parentheses. Students need to identify the preferred verb. This done, the teacher "goes over" the exercise, and this experience is replicated under testing circumstances. Students get the grades they get, and the class moves on to pronoun-antecedent agreement matters.
What is accomplished? Not much. In the fluency of writing and speaking, students will not remember and apply the rule. There will be a maddening discrepancy between performance on the exercise or test and that which we see in the natural use of language.
I'm loving this book.
Error as Negotiation: a classroom model
After reading Shaughnessy’s Errors and Expectations and Hartwell’s “Grammar, Grammars, and the Teaching of Grammar,” I’m left wondering what I should be doing in my classroom. I’m concerned about having the time to be able to figure out individual patterns in my students’ writing, as Shaughnessy suggests, and I’m also concerned about Hartwell’s extensive debunking of the value of teaching formal grammar. What is a teacher to think and do?
Enter two chapters from Bruce Horner and Min-Zhan Lu’s Representing the “Other”: Basic Writers and the Teaching of Basic Writing. The first, Lu’s “Redefining the Legacy of Mina Shaughnessy: a Critique of the Politics of Linguistic Innocence,” challenges the premise that we edit and proofread as a final step to the writing process; doing so implies that meaning comes before and is separate from language. Language reflects who we are and what we present to the world, and there are a variety of competing linguistic discourses that we need to be aware of that effect how different readers may respond to our writing (105). Lu notes that, though Shaughnessy challenges students to become familiar with conventions, gain confidence, and respond to conflict between academic and “home” conventions, most ignore that final problem (106).
Shaughnessy also assumes that “linguistic codes” should be taught separately from creating meaning and grappling with different discourses, which is problematic because it doesn’t allow for meaning to change as a result of using language (107-8). For example, when Shaughnessy suggests that a passage by a basic writing student be improved grammatically by removing “filler” phrases (like “I think that…”), she doesn’t take into account how that changes the original meaning the student may have had in mind (108). When discussing these sorts of changes with students, it’s important to talk about how changes in wording, sentence structure, or even punctuation might change the meaning (109).
The key here is that, when teachers show students that they can be a part of the shaping of language (which assumes that Standard English is not, indeed, static but is malleable based on a variety of social and political factors), the conflict between home and academic discourses is less threatening (113).
Bruce Horner’s “Rethinking the ‘Sociality’ of Error: Teaching Editing as Negotiation” offers some more practical advice about how to shift the conversation about error from right and wrong to a negotiation. He discusses the concept of error as a social construction, “…representing flawed social transactions, instances of a failure on the part of both the writer and reader…” (141). As teachers, we are trained to see error, to put on our Standard English “hats” and look for deviations. What happens if we could detach from that, though, so that “we could make the ordinary kind of contract with those texts that we make with other kids of texts”? The answer is that “…we could find many fewer errors” (Lees qtd. in Horner 143). Ultimately, Horner suggests that we need to avoid the right/wrong dichotomy with error because students then are in a position of not having any power over their own writing, “…a position which…also relieves them of responsibility” (150).
To that end, Horner offers several practical suggestions for activities that will get students to pay attention to writing codes and grapple with those codes. First, though, it’s important to give students the power to make decisions about their writing. This means that students could choose to stick with their “errors,” but they generally don’t, not because they feel like they don’t have a choice, but because, if we’ve set it up correctly in our classrooms, they want to communicate in a specific way for their chosen audiences (157).
The first suggestion is to have class discussions that talk about error—what they think about different types of errors, the fact that there are conflicting opinions on what constitutes errors, and ideas about how various types of errors are viewed (158). Having this conversation gets students to think about errors and their ability to be negotiated. We may have our own “systems” for correcting error, but maybe we should give some of those decisions up to the students. Horner suggests asking students about how they want us to respond to their writing. This changes our role from teacher to mediator, “…offering informed guidance to what might well be acceptable outside the course, in different writings or in various contexts” (159).
The second suggestion is to have individual conferences in which we talk to our students about “meaning, purpose, and relationship as much as they involve ‘code’” (159). We need to avoid the teacher role and instead ask questions about what students mean. Pointing out those parts in the writing that are unclear or reading aloud the part that is difficult and then asking the student to talk more about it maintains the students’ power over their writing (160).
Horner also finds that having peer reviews can be useful. Teachers might be reticent to this because they see basic writing students as not having the skills to be able to comment effectively on writing, and the students themselves may also lack this confidence. Remember, though, that what’s happening is a discussion about meaning and a negotiation about the presentation of that meaning. Anyone who can read can respond to writing in this way (161).
Finally, Horner suggests that editing be a part of the whole process, even composing, because it helps create meaning; therefore, we should purposely include writing assignments and activities that ask students to respond to their own and others’ writing. Writing responses to professional writing allows them to think not just about their own writing but what they think about the professional writing AND how their writing relates to the text that they’re responding to (163). What could make for a better negotiation?
Reading these essays reinforced the idea of letting students have power over their own writing. I am especially fascinated by the idea of peer review—I’ve been dissatisfied with my peer reviews for a while now. It’s been a long time since I have tried small group peer reviews in which I meet with the groups, but it might be worth considering. I’m also excited to set up an environment of inquiry in my classroom, talking about language and texts, how texts are created and how students can create them to say what they want to say, how they want to say it.
Enter two chapters from Bruce Horner and Min-Zhan Lu’s Representing the “Other”: Basic Writers and the Teaching of Basic Writing. The first, Lu’s “Redefining the Legacy of Mina Shaughnessy: a Critique of the Politics of Linguistic Innocence,” challenges the premise that we edit and proofread as a final step to the writing process; doing so implies that meaning comes before and is separate from language. Language reflects who we are and what we present to the world, and there are a variety of competing linguistic discourses that we need to be aware of that effect how different readers may respond to our writing (105). Lu notes that, though Shaughnessy challenges students to become familiar with conventions, gain confidence, and respond to conflict between academic and “home” conventions, most ignore that final problem (106).
Shaughnessy also assumes that “linguistic codes” should be taught separately from creating meaning and grappling with different discourses, which is problematic because it doesn’t allow for meaning to change as a result of using language (107-8). For example, when Shaughnessy suggests that a passage by a basic writing student be improved grammatically by removing “filler” phrases (like “I think that…”), she doesn’t take into account how that changes the original meaning the student may have had in mind (108). When discussing these sorts of changes with students, it’s important to talk about how changes in wording, sentence structure, or even punctuation might change the meaning (109).
The key here is that, when teachers show students that they can be a part of the shaping of language (which assumes that Standard English is not, indeed, static but is malleable based on a variety of social and political factors), the conflict between home and academic discourses is less threatening (113).
Bruce Horner’s “Rethinking the ‘Sociality’ of Error: Teaching Editing as Negotiation” offers some more practical advice about how to shift the conversation about error from right and wrong to a negotiation. He discusses the concept of error as a social construction, “…representing flawed social transactions, instances of a failure on the part of both the writer and reader…” (141). As teachers, we are trained to see error, to put on our Standard English “hats” and look for deviations. What happens if we could detach from that, though, so that “we could make the ordinary kind of contract with those texts that we make with other kids of texts”? The answer is that “…we could find many fewer errors” (Lees qtd. in Horner 143). Ultimately, Horner suggests that we need to avoid the right/wrong dichotomy with error because students then are in a position of not having any power over their own writing, “…a position which…also relieves them of responsibility” (150).
To that end, Horner offers several practical suggestions for activities that will get students to pay attention to writing codes and grapple with those codes. First, though, it’s important to give students the power to make decisions about their writing. This means that students could choose to stick with their “errors,” but they generally don’t, not because they feel like they don’t have a choice, but because, if we’ve set it up correctly in our classrooms, they want to communicate in a specific way for their chosen audiences (157).
The first suggestion is to have class discussions that talk about error—what they think about different types of errors, the fact that there are conflicting opinions on what constitutes errors, and ideas about how various types of errors are viewed (158). Having this conversation gets students to think about errors and their ability to be negotiated. We may have our own “systems” for correcting error, but maybe we should give some of those decisions up to the students. Horner suggests asking students about how they want us to respond to their writing. This changes our role from teacher to mediator, “…offering informed guidance to what might well be acceptable outside the course, in different writings or in various contexts” (159).
The second suggestion is to have individual conferences in which we talk to our students about “meaning, purpose, and relationship as much as they involve ‘code’” (159). We need to avoid the teacher role and instead ask questions about what students mean. Pointing out those parts in the writing that are unclear or reading aloud the part that is difficult and then asking the student to talk more about it maintains the students’ power over their writing (160).
Horner also finds that having peer reviews can be useful. Teachers might be reticent to this because they see basic writing students as not having the skills to be able to comment effectively on writing, and the students themselves may also lack this confidence. Remember, though, that what’s happening is a discussion about meaning and a negotiation about the presentation of that meaning. Anyone who can read can respond to writing in this way (161).
Finally, Horner suggests that editing be a part of the whole process, even composing, because it helps create meaning; therefore, we should purposely include writing assignments and activities that ask students to respond to their own and others’ writing. Writing responses to professional writing allows them to think not just about their own writing but what they think about the professional writing AND how their writing relates to the text that they’re responding to (163). What could make for a better negotiation?
Reading these essays reinforced the idea of letting students have power over their own writing. I am especially fascinated by the idea of peer review—I’ve been dissatisfied with my peer reviews for a while now. It’s been a long time since I have tried small group peer reviews in which I meet with the groups, but it might be worth considering. I’m also excited to set up an environment of inquiry in my classroom, talking about language and texts, how texts are created and how students can create them to say what they want to say, how they want to say it.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Playing with Grammar: Website Review
A recurring theme in my research that's been resonating with me regarding my basic writing students is getting them to "play" with the language. This means coming up with their own sample sentences, using grammar in context and using real-world examples to ultimately mine their own innate knowledge as native English speakers to figure out the rules. This seems simply more fun to me than what I have been doing (skill and drill out of the book).
In that vein, I'm going to take a look at some online sources about grammar and see what might assist in this guided playing with grammar. To make my life easier, I'm going to be looking for sources that address sentence errors specifically: run-ons, comma splices, and fragments.
The Classics
The Purdue Online Writing Lab (OWL):
For those of you who have used the OWL before (if you haven't, I suggest you head over and check it out: http://owl.english.purdue.edu/), you know that it has a whole lot of information about a range of writing concerns. That information tends to be in a worksheet format, such as this page on independent and dependent clauses: http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/598/01/
This information is similar to what you might find in a textbook, so that's not helpful in terms of getting students to play with grammar in the sense I mean here. They do, however, have some useful PowerPoints, such as this one called "Conquering the Comma:" http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/692/01/
PowerPoints are only as useful as the instructor makes them, but the alternative format could be interesting for students.
Literacy Education Online (LEO):
LEO (http://leo.stcloudstate.edu/) is a resource through St. Cloud State University that is similar to the OWL in that it has a variety of resources that are similar to what might be found in a textbook, like this source on comma splices, fused sentences, and run-ons: http://leo.stcloudstate.edu/punct/csfsro.html
The last time LEO was updated was in 2004, but what's nice about the site is that it presents the website information based on questions the writer may have, like, "I want to make sure my ideas are logical." The "ideas are logical" part of the sentence is a link to a resource on logical fallacies. Again, though this source may be a good enhancement to or replacement of a textbook, it doesn't directly support playing with grammar.
Grammar Girl:
I like the conversational tone this website (http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/) takes on, making grammar more accessible and interesting for the readers. It offers a listing of the most recent tips and a search box for particular issues. I typed "run on sentences" into the search box, and several intriguing results came up, including this explanation of run-ons, written in the Grammar Girl’s signature quirky and fun style. Students might enjoy reading this source more than a textbook because it is conversational: http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/run-on-sentences.aspx
Something else that tells me this is a good source for playing with grammar, though, and is that the source talks specifically about “Run-On Sentences and Your Writing Style.” Under this heading, the Grammar Girl talks about the effect on the reader of making two short, complete sentences set apart by a period and how that sounds versus adding a semicolon, conjunctive adverb or comma. Though this section is short, it goes beyond the rule and options and delves into the effect those options have on the meaning the writer is trying to convey, which is a sure sign of a resource that understands the value of playing with language.
I also found a link to audio, video, and quiz files: http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com/staticcontent/teaching-with-technology.aspx
I listened to the audio about fragments, and after a 50-second commercial, Mignon Fogarty (she's the Grammar Girl, by the way), reads what is written below...kind of a buzzkill. It is, however, nice to hear the Grammar Girl's voice, and I can see the value of having students listen to the audio while following along with the webpage.
Grammar Bytes:
...specifically, exercises at Grammar Bytes: http://www.chompchomp.com/exercises.htm This website has a simple, easy-to-use format and presents the concepts in a clear, readable way. I'm looking at the link for comma splices and fused sentences, and it gives a set of directions along with a quick review of the concept. There are also links to a more extensive explanation of the rule and a handout that the students can use to keep track of their answers in a print format.
Once the student reviews the rules, it's time to do the activity. The first question asks the student to read a sentence and determine if there is a comma splice or a fused sentence within it. Picking a door leads to either a cool prize or a lame prize. I chose the wrong answer (on purpose, of course), and got the message "You lose! The sentence did not contain a comma splice" with a picture of a cow. The "You lose" part stung, but the cow made me laugh, so I guess things balanced out. Underneath the cow is an option to get an explanation or to go on to the next sentence. The explanation not only gives the correct answer (the sentence contained a fused sentence), but why and how to fix it. (By the way, by answering a question correctly, I got a picture of a wad of twenty dollar bills held together by a rubber band. Too bad they're only virtual!)
This is a fun way to get the students engaging with the rules, and I think it would definitely hold their attention. I'm not entirely sure, however, that these activities, though playful, would get at the more hands-on version of play that I'm talking about here.
The Videos
Ahh, YouTube. What do you have that will help me get students to play with grammar? I did a search for "comma splices" and I have to say, the results that popped up didn't look all that interesting. I found several that were clearly projects done by students for their English classes. These aren't useful sources, really, but they do show students who are having fun with the concept. One video that I loved was by an English teacher, called the "Comma Splice Rap:" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jfSE7y31ig&feature=related
What's great about this is not necessarily its hard educational value, but that it shows that grammar isn't some boring, annoying thing. It's playfulness demonstrated not by students (who WANT to be playful), but by the same teachers who have the power to address the concepts in ways that might be more boring for the students. I mean, honestly. What student wouldn't want this lady as their teacher? She's so cool!
I also dig this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Rzt37kO-Qg&feature=related because it gives the rule and shows several real-world examples of comma splices and how they might be fixed.
There are also a variety of videos like this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIwYeNnmcuQ, called "How to Fix a Comma Splice." These videos are explanations of the rule, very much in the same way I would explain the rule in my class. On first blush, I want to dismiss these videos because they do what I already do. On second thought, though, for those students who find value in hearing the rules explained to them, these videos give the opportunity to hear the rules after the class is over.
YouTube shouldn't be underestimated. I can see pulling up fun videos to get the students thinking and perhaps even asking students who struggle with grammatical issues to check out some of the videos for further practice.
The Blogs
I'm not convinced that sending students to grammar blogs (like the gorgeously-titled "Throw Grammar from the Train" at http://throwgrammarfromthetrain.blogspot.com/) is the wisest choice, given the often-cerebral musings of some of the blogs that don't arrive at the down-and-dirty usage information that we're trying to deliver to our students. If we're talking about playing with language, though, these sources certainly do look at language from different angles which could be useful to the right student. A caveat is that the writing tends to be at a high level, and basic writers may struggle with that.
Some blogs, like "The Grammarphobia Blog" (http://www.grammarphobia.com/blog/) have search boxes that make the job of finding the topic you're looking for easier.
The best way to go about searching for blog postings about grammar issues is to head over to the Google blog search (http://www.google.com/blogsearch?hl=en) and type in what you want to find. A search for comma splices yielded a factual, yet somewhat condescending blog posting called "The #$%@! Comma Splice" by a college student addressed to other students. A friendlier explanation is the posting "What a Comma Splice is and How to Fix It," found here: http://blog.writeathome.com/index.php/2012/02/what-a-comma-splice-is-and-how-to-fix-it/.
The Bottom Line: The internet is a beautiful thing, and resources abound to assist with the teaching of these concepts. Though I know I can explain concepts, I would much rather spend my time in the classroom getting students to play around with those concepts. If someone else can explain it on the web, why not let 'em do it? If nothing else, it's another source reinforcing the ideas we're talking about, and reinforcement is valuable. Students being able to view sources repeatedly if necessary is also good--I can't be there to answer questions all the time, especially when some students do their homework at wacky hours. Finally, the conversational (read: fun) tone of some of these sources may inspire students to pay closer attention to material they may otherwise find dull. It's a win-win--it helps out with instruction and certainly cannot hurt the students.
Ultimately, if we're talking about getting students to play with language, I may need to rely on my own powers as a teacher to make that happen in my classroom.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Should we teach grammar at all?
Well, that's quite a question to ask now that I'm getting close to the end of my project, but it's a question that has been haunting me ever since I started my research. Does formalized grammar instruction really improve writing? According to Patrick Hartwell's February 1985 article in College English called "Grammar, Grammars, and the Teaching of Grammar," the answer is NO.
Hartwell wrote this in 1985, responding to years of research reports and essays that explore this question. The question, as Hartwell puts it, is this: "What does experimental research tell us about the value of teahing formal grammar?" (106). The problem, though, is that over the 75 years this question has been asked, this "experimental research has for all practical purposes told us nothing" (106). It would seem that research is done and conclusions are drawn, but then that same research is interpreted by others who draw different conclusions. Therefore, research doesn't solve the debate (107).
Hartwell then goes on to describe the different types of "grammar" that are taught:
1. Patterns of language that convey meaning
2. Description and anaysis of formal patters (linguistic science)
3. Usage
4. What we learn in school
5. Stylistic grammar (like the Strunk and White version) (109-110)
Grammar 1 is the grammar that we all, as native English speakers, have in our heads already. We know how things should be in the sentence, but we're don't know the specific rule for it (111). If we learn Grammar 2, it does not impact Grammar 1. Grammar 1 is quite abstract and can be difficult to explain. We can try to come up with rules to explain Grammar 1 (what is, actually, Grammar 4), but as we know, the rules that we teach our students often have one, if not many, exceptions (112).
An interesting study done in 1967 by Arthur S. Reber showed that "mere exposure to grammatical sentences produced tacit learning: subjects who copied several grammatical sentences performed far above chance in judging the grammaticality of other letter strings" (117). Hartwell also notes that people performed much worse when given specific rules to follow, like flow charts, to make decisions about what was "correct" in their writing (117). On the other hand, Herbert W. Seliger, another researcher, suggests that the rules themselves aren't all that useful, but when people think they are and internalize them, it allows people "to access the internal rules they actually use" (119). The reality is that the rules we are taught in school (Grammar 4), are COIK--Clear Only If Known; basically, if you already know the rule, the rule will make sense. If not, the rule is useless (119). It's also noteworthy that an application of a compicated set of rules is NOT what a maure writer does and relies far too much on rote memorization (120).
So, what are we to do? First, students tend to correct their errors when they read their work aloud (121). Second, "A broad range of cross-cultural studies suggest that metalinguistic awareness is a defining feature of print literacy" (122); or, we should get our students thinking about their thinking about language. This means that we should talk about the different types of literacies that are used for a variety of purposes in our culture (123).
Stylistic grammar (Grammar 5) allows us to teach about language's use in a variety of contexts as well as the "active manipulation of language with conscious attention to surface form" (125). When we approach the teaching of Grammar 5, it's all about playing with the language.
Ultimately, Hartwell notes, "The thrust of current research and theory is to take power from the teacher and give that power to the learner" (127). If that's true, then it would make sense to have students play with sentences and to direct that play so that the students internalize the rules through this play rather than giving them a list of rules to memorize. Should we teach grammar at all? Sure, but maybe not in the traditional way that was presented to us in school.
Hartwell wrote this in 1985, responding to years of research reports and essays that explore this question. The question, as Hartwell puts it, is this: "What does experimental research tell us about the value of teahing formal grammar?" (106). The problem, though, is that over the 75 years this question has been asked, this "experimental research has for all practical purposes told us nothing" (106). It would seem that research is done and conclusions are drawn, but then that same research is interpreted by others who draw different conclusions. Therefore, research doesn't solve the debate (107).
Hartwell then goes on to describe the different types of "grammar" that are taught:
1. Patterns of language that convey meaning
2. Description and anaysis of formal patters (linguistic science)
3. Usage
4. What we learn in school
5. Stylistic grammar (like the Strunk and White version) (109-110)
Grammar 1 is the grammar that we all, as native English speakers, have in our heads already. We know how things should be in the sentence, but we're don't know the specific rule for it (111). If we learn Grammar 2, it does not impact Grammar 1. Grammar 1 is quite abstract and can be difficult to explain. We can try to come up with rules to explain Grammar 1 (what is, actually, Grammar 4), but as we know, the rules that we teach our students often have one, if not many, exceptions (112).
An interesting study done in 1967 by Arthur S. Reber showed that "mere exposure to grammatical sentences produced tacit learning: subjects who copied several grammatical sentences performed far above chance in judging the grammaticality of other letter strings" (117). Hartwell also notes that people performed much worse when given specific rules to follow, like flow charts, to make decisions about what was "correct" in their writing (117). On the other hand, Herbert W. Seliger, another researcher, suggests that the rules themselves aren't all that useful, but when people think they are and internalize them, it allows people "to access the internal rules they actually use" (119). The reality is that the rules we are taught in school (Grammar 4), are COIK--Clear Only If Known; basically, if you already know the rule, the rule will make sense. If not, the rule is useless (119). It's also noteworthy that an application of a compicated set of rules is NOT what a maure writer does and relies far too much on rote memorization (120).
So, what are we to do? First, students tend to correct their errors when they read their work aloud (121). Second, "A broad range of cross-cultural studies suggest that metalinguistic awareness is a defining feature of print literacy" (122); or, we should get our students thinking about their thinking about language. This means that we should talk about the different types of literacies that are used for a variety of purposes in our culture (123).
Stylistic grammar (Grammar 5) allows us to teach about language's use in a variety of contexts as well as the "active manipulation of language with conscious attention to surface form" (125). When we approach the teaching of Grammar 5, it's all about playing with the language.
Ultimately, Hartwell notes, "The thrust of current research and theory is to take power from the teacher and give that power to the learner" (127). If that's true, then it would make sense to have students play with sentences and to direct that play so that the students internalize the rules through this play rather than giving them a list of rules to memorize. Should we teach grammar at all? Sure, but maybe not in the traditional way that was presented to us in school.
Errors and Expectations: Chapter 8
Expectations
"Writing is something writers are always learning to do" (276).
We come now to the end of the book, where Shaughnessy discusses the realities of teaching basic writers in the college setting. First, based on her research, she has found some reassuring evidence that "…we can expect within a semester of instruction a clear indication of control over errors in punctuation and grammar, provided this is a feature of instruction either in the class or in conferences. Errors will remain, but for most students the errors should begin to appear residual rather than dominant" (276). This is in direct contrast, however, to some of the experiences we may have had in our classrooms, experiences where we leave the semester wondering if our students learned anything at all about grammar. Something to note in this case, though, is that even for those students who have become more comfortable dealing with objective sentence-level errors (but maybe have not made huge strides in eradicating these errors), the tone of their writing often becomes more confident (278). There are also students who may not appear to improve markedly over the course of the semester, but they may experience a positive overall shift in attitude towards writing (280).
Shaughnessy notes that it’s important for students to have continuous experience with writing courses beyond the developmental along with further writing opportunities in other classes. Unfortunately, "…should their fragile competence go unattended and unpracticed for a semester or two, the students would most likely be back almost where they had started" (283). Some of us have seen this in students who have been in our developmental classes, passed, and then show up in a class like Composition I a year later, seeming to have forgotten everything they were doing well in their developmental course (indeed, for some students, this forgetting can happen over the three-week winter break!). The idea here is basic: students who struggle with writing must keep practicing to build on and retain their skills.
Remember, there is no One Answer when it comes to the question of what works best to teach developmental students because of the myriad variables in student, student error, reasons behind error, teachers, teaching styles and pedagogies, institutional expectations, and the difficulty of the language itself. Because of these variables, we should look forward to learning as many strategies as possible and be kind to ourselves, recognizing the limitation of time that can work against our teaching (284).
When we think about what material we are going to cover in our classes, Shaughnessy suggests that we look at those concepts from four perspectives:
1. What is the goal of instruction? Is it awareness, improvement, or mastery? (286)
2. What is the best method of instruction? (287)
3. What is the best mode of instruction—the most effective social organization and the best technology? (287)
4. How do the individual items of instruction relate to one another? Where do they come in a sequence of instruction and how much time can be allowed for each? (287)
She ends on a positive note about the types of students we can expect in our classes:
"Capable because of their maturity of observing the processes they are going through as learners, they can alert us easily and swiftly to the effects of instruction. They work, in this sense, collaboratively with teachers in ways that are impossible with child learners. In a hurry, also, to learn what we have to teach them, they press us to discover the most efficient ways of presenting what we would have them understand" (291).
Our students want us to be better teachers, and through their experiences, we are also forced to examine and be critical of our academic institution as well as those from which they have come (292). The key is to look at our developmental students as being capable of learning to be more effective writers, and if we do that, we will be forced to become better teachers (292).
"Writing is something writers are always learning to do" (276).
We come now to the end of the book, where Shaughnessy discusses the realities of teaching basic writers in the college setting. First, based on her research, she has found some reassuring evidence that "…we can expect within a semester of instruction a clear indication of control over errors in punctuation and grammar, provided this is a feature of instruction either in the class or in conferences. Errors will remain, but for most students the errors should begin to appear residual rather than dominant" (276). This is in direct contrast, however, to some of the experiences we may have had in our classrooms, experiences where we leave the semester wondering if our students learned anything at all about grammar. Something to note in this case, though, is that even for those students who have become more comfortable dealing with objective sentence-level errors (but maybe have not made huge strides in eradicating these errors), the tone of their writing often becomes more confident (278). There are also students who may not appear to improve markedly over the course of the semester, but they may experience a positive overall shift in attitude towards writing (280).
Shaughnessy notes that it’s important for students to have continuous experience with writing courses beyond the developmental along with further writing opportunities in other classes. Unfortunately, "…should their fragile competence go unattended and unpracticed for a semester or two, the students would most likely be back almost where they had started" (283). Some of us have seen this in students who have been in our developmental classes, passed, and then show up in a class like Composition I a year later, seeming to have forgotten everything they were doing well in their developmental course (indeed, for some students, this forgetting can happen over the three-week winter break!). The idea here is basic: students who struggle with writing must keep practicing to build on and retain their skills.
Remember, there is no One Answer when it comes to the question of what works best to teach developmental students because of the myriad variables in student, student error, reasons behind error, teachers, teaching styles and pedagogies, institutional expectations, and the difficulty of the language itself. Because of these variables, we should look forward to learning as many strategies as possible and be kind to ourselves, recognizing the limitation of time that can work against our teaching (284).
When we think about what material we are going to cover in our classes, Shaughnessy suggests that we look at those concepts from four perspectives:
1. What is the goal of instruction? Is it awareness, improvement, or mastery? (286)
2. What is the best method of instruction? (287)
3. What is the best mode of instruction—the most effective social organization and the best technology? (287)
4. How do the individual items of instruction relate to one another? Where do they come in a sequence of instruction and how much time can be allowed for each? (287)
She ends on a positive note about the types of students we can expect in our classes:
"Capable because of their maturity of observing the processes they are going through as learners, they can alert us easily and swiftly to the effects of instruction. They work, in this sense, collaboratively with teachers in ways that are impossible with child learners. In a hurry, also, to learn what we have to teach them, they press us to discover the most efficient ways of presenting what we would have them understand" (291).
Our students want us to be better teachers, and through their experiences, we are also forced to examine and be critical of our academic institution as well as those from which they have come (292). The key is to look at our developmental students as being capable of learning to be more effective writers, and if we do that, we will be forced to become better teachers (292).
Errors and Expectations: Chapter 7
Beyond the Sentence
I don’t think that anyone reading this would be surprised when I suggest that grammar goes beyond the sentence level, so I’m going to go there with the help of Mina Shaughnessy (even though, yes, the title of this blog would suggest that I should stick with sentences). The reality is that our students struggle not just with fragments and subject/verb agreement and spelling, but they also struggle with getting a piece of writing to form a coherent whole. In this chapter, Shaughnessy talks about the "beyond the sentence" struggles our basic writing students have.
The first difficulty is students being able to make a "point." Sometimes teachers complain that BW students don’t have a "point," but they actually make many points. The problem is that these points are often not expanded on, and the style may not be as academic as is required in Standard English (226).
It’s important to note that "An idea…is not a ‘point’ so much as a branching tree of elaboration and demonstration" (226). Many times the BW doesn’t feel comfortable with "…play[ing] upon the topic, to follow out the implications that lie within statements, or to recover the history of the idea as it is developed in the writer’s mind" (228). In other words, they aren’t used to thinking critically about what it is they want to write about.
Basic writers, when confronted with the request to expand on their ideas, see that as a requirement to add fluff. Often basic writers will resort to the "…substitution of common wisdom in the form of platitudes" and the inappropriate inclusion of their personal experience (230-1). These techniques replace the playing out of ideas that is critical to effective written communication (232). The mark of an advanced writer is the ability to write longer and longer pieces while remembering and always connecting to the original purpose. Basic writing students struggle doing this and can veer from their main point (233).
Ideas can also become disconnected and unorganized in basic writing because the students can have a hard time coming up with an initial idea. The essay that a more advanced writer will create is based on an initial idea that has been processed (or, as I call it, "marinated" upon) before starting to write, while the basic writer will process as they write (234). Note, however, that an essay that may seem disorganized may actually have an organizational pattern that is "derived from non-academic models," such as the sermons that they hear Sundays at church (237).
Most of us have encountered students who write with a high degree of self-disclosure, telling stories about their jail time, drug addiction, or unwanted pregnancies. Sometimes we view this reliance on personalization of style and topic as an interesting rhetorical tool. The problem, however, is that it’s not a tool at all—students rely on personal narrative and a "speaking" tone to their writing because they don’t know how to write in an academic style (239).
To properly respond to writing assignments, students need to first understand that the academic audience has specific expectations. "The writer is…expected to make ‘new’ or arguable statements and then develop a case for them…far enough to meet his audience’s criteria for fullness and sound reasoning. The beginning writer is…not prepared to meet these expectations, but his awareness of them helps him make sense out of the conventions that govern academic discourse" (240). Two basic conventions that are important to academic writing (and that basic writers struggle with) are to be able to move between concretions and abstractions and to be able to show the organizational relationships between sentences and paragraphs in an essay (240).
In terms of creating an awareness of moving from the general to the specific, Shaughnessy suggests teaching students about "governing" statements by showing them a group of sentences and having them pick out the sentence that would be a more general topic sentence. From there, we could show students slides of pictures, having them come up with topic or thesis statements based on those pictures (for example, showing a slide of couples: "Old couples sometimes look more like brother and sister than man and wife") (246). From here, students can start mining their own experience for data, and then, to go further, can start looking outside themselves for data (247).
Writers are asked to make the following seven types of statements and develop those statements:
1. This is what happened.
2. This is the look (sound, smell or feel) of something.
3. This is like (or unlike) this.
4. This (may have, probably, certainly) caused this.
5. This is what ought to be done.
6. This is what someone said.
7. This is my opinion (or interpretation) of what someone said (257-269).
Remember, though, that all of these rhetorical modes (narration, cause/effect, etc.) start with the basic organizational structure that is derived from the topic or thesis statement (272). It seems that, above all else, the audience insists on one of these "governing" sentences as the root from which academic writing springs. I like Shaughnessy’s idea of showing pictures and having the students create topic/thesis statements based on those pictures. It would generate some good discussion among the students and has the added benefit of stimulating those students who are visual learners.
I don’t think that anyone reading this would be surprised when I suggest that grammar goes beyond the sentence level, so I’m going to go there with the help of Mina Shaughnessy (even though, yes, the title of this blog would suggest that I should stick with sentences). The reality is that our students struggle not just with fragments and subject/verb agreement and spelling, but they also struggle with getting a piece of writing to form a coherent whole. In this chapter, Shaughnessy talks about the "beyond the sentence" struggles our basic writing students have.
The first difficulty is students being able to make a "point." Sometimes teachers complain that BW students don’t have a "point," but they actually make many points. The problem is that these points are often not expanded on, and the style may not be as academic as is required in Standard English (226).
It’s important to note that "An idea…is not a ‘point’ so much as a branching tree of elaboration and demonstration" (226). Many times the BW doesn’t feel comfortable with "…play[ing] upon the topic, to follow out the implications that lie within statements, or to recover the history of the idea as it is developed in the writer’s mind" (228). In other words, they aren’t used to thinking critically about what it is they want to write about.
Basic writers, when confronted with the request to expand on their ideas, see that as a requirement to add fluff. Often basic writers will resort to the "…substitution of common wisdom in the form of platitudes" and the inappropriate inclusion of their personal experience (230-1). These techniques replace the playing out of ideas that is critical to effective written communication (232). The mark of an advanced writer is the ability to write longer and longer pieces while remembering and always connecting to the original purpose. Basic writing students struggle doing this and can veer from their main point (233).
Ideas can also become disconnected and unorganized in basic writing because the students can have a hard time coming up with an initial idea. The essay that a more advanced writer will create is based on an initial idea that has been processed (or, as I call it, "marinated" upon) before starting to write, while the basic writer will process as they write (234). Note, however, that an essay that may seem disorganized may actually have an organizational pattern that is "derived from non-academic models," such as the sermons that they hear Sundays at church (237).
Most of us have encountered students who write with a high degree of self-disclosure, telling stories about their jail time, drug addiction, or unwanted pregnancies. Sometimes we view this reliance on personalization of style and topic as an interesting rhetorical tool. The problem, however, is that it’s not a tool at all—students rely on personal narrative and a "speaking" tone to their writing because they don’t know how to write in an academic style (239).
To properly respond to writing assignments, students need to first understand that the academic audience has specific expectations. "The writer is…expected to make ‘new’ or arguable statements and then develop a case for them…far enough to meet his audience’s criteria for fullness and sound reasoning. The beginning writer is…not prepared to meet these expectations, but his awareness of them helps him make sense out of the conventions that govern academic discourse" (240). Two basic conventions that are important to academic writing (and that basic writers struggle with) are to be able to move between concretions and abstractions and to be able to show the organizational relationships between sentences and paragraphs in an essay (240).
In terms of creating an awareness of moving from the general to the specific, Shaughnessy suggests teaching students about "governing" statements by showing them a group of sentences and having them pick out the sentence that would be a more general topic sentence. From there, we could show students slides of pictures, having them come up with topic or thesis statements based on those pictures (for example, showing a slide of couples: "Old couples sometimes look more like brother and sister than man and wife") (246). From here, students can start mining their own experience for data, and then, to go further, can start looking outside themselves for data (247).
Writers are asked to make the following seven types of statements and develop those statements:
1. This is what happened.
2. This is the look (sound, smell or feel) of something.
3. This is like (or unlike) this.
4. This (may have, probably, certainly) caused this.
5. This is what ought to be done.
6. This is what someone said.
7. This is my opinion (or interpretation) of what someone said (257-269).
Remember, though, that all of these rhetorical modes (narration, cause/effect, etc.) start with the basic organizational structure that is derived from the topic or thesis statement (272). It seems that, above all else, the audience insists on one of these "governing" sentences as the root from which academic writing springs. I like Shaughnessy’s idea of showing pictures and having the students create topic/thesis statements based on those pictures. It would generate some good discussion among the students and has the added benefit of stimulating those students who are visual learners.
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