Blog 2
I went to the library to catch up on the Smith reading I had missed because Amazon doesn't realize that I'm in my second week of class so they haven't gotten me my damn copy that I paid for 3 weeks ago yet. Boyoboy, am I glad I did. I really wish I had read it before Monday's class, since the section of chapter three on the tension between composition and transcription is exactly what our directions (I'm sorry "guidelines") for the peer review process were all about. I've definitely experienced the words flowing into my mind faster than I can slap them onto the paper, regardless of how sloppy I let my writing be. Since I never learned to touch-type I'm destined to have a Ferrari mind and a Chevy Chevette hand. The only real possibility is a transcription program, and from what I've heard (thanks Erin) even though software like Dragon is useful, it's nowhere near perfect.
A couple specific points made by Smith really stood out. He writes,"There is a limit to how much the human brain can be aware of, can consciously direct at any one time. (23)" He then goes on to point out the competition for mental real estate that goes on between the composition urge and the transcription urge, noting that anxiety, when present, also grabs for room in your head. I immediately thought of how the carnival that seems to constantly be running in my brain marks its own territory as well, calliopes blaring, drunks crawling around in the dark corners, masked revelers dancing away and doing unspeakable things on the balconies. And in the middle of all this, I attempt to write an argument or a research paper or, heaven forfend, a love note. And make sure I don't youse the rong spilling, or start my sentences with conjunctions. Now where did I put that rum?
Later on, in chapter 8, he points out how the momentary act of writing differs for each individual "-sometimes the hand leading the inner voice, sometimes the converse, and sometimes the two proceeding in tandem...[for some] the hand alone, there is no inner voice." I think the idea of no inner voice seems odd, but realize it might just be too quiet or too obvious to notice, as in times of writing during extreme emotional stress. If I'm on the verge of tears, or angry enough to shake and shout, I write without conscious thought, almost as if the composition process is bypassing consciousness and needs to simply act. These are times when some of the darkest, cruelest, most vitriolic things end up on pages in front of me, and I wonder how that could be something I wrote. Has this "automatic writing" ever happened to anyone else?
Regarding the chapter in 9R, I was most impressed/surprised at the point started on page 50 about allowing students "to decide for themselves whether their own work is good." I think it's a wonderful idea, but I think it's going to make periodic evaluation difficult. I never was given freedom to make this determination on my own, instead always having some template to conform to. How are we to monitor progress over time if the student is their own evaluator? I realize that this would be an encouraging principle, but maintaining balance with scoring, testing, and grading would be very hard, regardless of verbal spin by the teacher in rejecting works that do not "make the grade."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment