Potentials and Parameters: Student Writing as Classroom Text

As an undergraduate in English Lit, I enjoyed the reading and writing, but sometimes dozed off during lectures. Of course, at the time, the curricula were all centered on teachers, not students. So long as professors were capable speakers, they held our attention; if not, we counted every minute on that ticking clock. Because I'm not a fan of teacher-centered teaching, I was excited when I began the very student-centered Comp MA at SFSU. One of my favorite models for a student-centered curriculum is Facts, Artifacts and Counterfacts' (1986), to which I was introduced in my fall 2013 English 709 class. Like many writing workshops, the Bartholomae and Petrosky course centered on student writing but, unlike any pedagogy I'd known, it took student writers seriously as “experts” whose opinions were valued beyond the typical classroom “performance for evaluation,” as Bruce Horner (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) puts it. (p.11) FA&C did this, in part, by making the centerpiece of their curriculum the published anthology of a class full of student autobiographies, a publication which was then studied in class as an “expert” document on adolescence. For the purpose of this course, student writers were elevated virtually to the level of professional authors featured in the course, such as Margaret Meade. In part, I suppose I was excited by this approach because, having been a freelance journalist myself, I know how validating it feels to have your writing circulated and appreciated by a broad and discerning readership. Compared to being published, typical classroom writing, though it may come with the best intentions of teaching students to write for an audience, inevitably only asks students to write for the teacher. Reading FA&C, I was fascinated, furthermore, by the idea of a course where student writing drove the whole pedagogy, freeing teachers from lecturing. Throughout the term, students in the Bartholomae and Petrosky course would write several papers (on top of the autobiography project), 2-3 selections of which were discussed whole-class each week as works in progress. Student writings became the stimulus for class discussions, which covered the essentials of writing, absent any overt lessons on audience and purpose, for example. Students would learn “what passes as an idea and what does not, what forms of argument work and what don't.” (30) Finally, I was intrigued by the FA&C approach because, while valuing student work, it also asked student writers to be brave in their writing and in their in-class criticism of a peer's work, all of which would seem to boost student interest levels dramatically. After all, it stands to reason that, when students know they’re about to come under whole-class inspection, their focus and interest is heightened dramatically.  Higher stakes add to the excitement of the class, which leads to increased student engagement, and this engagement gives rise to students acquiring the elements of good writing – without a teacher ever dictating “the rules.”

      My enthusiasm for the potential in this pedagogy inspired my current research on student writing as classroom text (SWACT), revealing several new applications barely hinted at by Bartholomae and Petrosky, including some healthy considerations for parameters to protect students from unintended ill effects of a curriculum that clearly takes risks. My inquiry began by asking What variations are there on the whole-class analysis model? What other applications are there for SWACT beyond the whole-class model? This paper will address several approaches, most of which come from the excellent anthology Teaching with Student Texts. As I see it, these pedagogies fall into two main categories: potentials – classroom applications with great promise, and parameters – limits and cautions in using SWACT. 

Potentials

Like Bartholomae and Petrosky, Patrick Bruch and Thomas Reynolds use SWACT in whole-class discussions. Though they sometimes work with full drafts, they tend to excerpt specific parts of papers in order to focus on key rhetorical moves (introduction, claims, support, conclusion). Bruch and Reynolds (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) offer key questions to guide discussion might include: “How effective does this work address the assignment? How might this student build on this particular 'microtask?' What other approaches could have been taken? What might the consequences of those moves be?” (p. 82) If writing students don't always value revision the way Comp teachers do, Bruch and Reynolds say SWACT provides students a clear understanding for it. Applying SWACT in peer review and whole-class analysis, the authors say student writers' main benefits are “the notion that writing remains malleable” and that their drafts are experiments, rather than mistakes etched in stone. (p. 83) This point is hard to over-emphasize. As a former CMS teaching assistant, I was pained by how few students embraced their opportunity to revise their work, possibly because they felt it was already good enough, possibly because they couldn't stand to revisit their already troublesome writing. My personal experience in a UC Berkeley writing workshop showed me how a whole-class a SWACT workshop implicates every participant, so that no one is above revision, and that revision always improves student writing.

      From my research, the most common application of SWACT appears to be the time-honored technique of peer review. Bruch and Reynolds (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) found the greatest benefit to peer review was in what student reviewers – not writers – learned from the process: coming to see writing as the audience sees it. By contrast, student writers said that, while they may take student feedback with a grain of salt, they truly valued “having their peer reviewers treat them as writers whose texts were worthy of serious investigation.” (p. 80) This echoes the benefits of treating students like “experts” in FA&C.

      As a graduate student without Comp teaching experience, I've often been troubled by the concept of peer review. So much seems to hinge on a teacher's proper modeling of peer review techniques, so that students read closely, examine fearlessly, and communicate empathically. The peer review approaches using SWACT that I found seem to succeed because teachers use whole-class analysis as a model long before ask students to review each other in small groups. Like Bruch and Reynolds, Jane Mathieson Fife (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) uses SWACT whole class to introduce students to peer review. Initially, though, Fife favors whole-class readings of student texts selected from other classes, English department websites, national journals and textbooks. She prefers the stability of known “outside” texts early on when modeling the basic moves of an academic paper. Additionally, going online also provides a rich resource for exemplary student writing that enables her to raise the bar for her students with models that are “high quality, but not unattainable.” (p. 224) This resonates with John R. Slade (2010), who favors “outside” student texts. He generally prefers student text over professional texts, too; in his research, students found the latter more intimidating by a ratio of 3 to 1. (p. 35)

      While no other pedagogy I found treats student writers as “experts” quite like Bartholomae and Petrosky, a few scholars report intriguing models likewise founded on publishing. Doug Downs, Heidi Estrem and Susan Thomas (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) decry the tendency for student texts to become “ossified, classroom-only genres,” and point out that they are typically read by peers in draft stages, but far less likely to be “valued or interrogated as highly polished, published texts.” (p. 119) To remedy this the authors recommend student writers send their essays to be published in Young Scholars in Writing (YSW), a peer-reviewed journal of undergraduate research in composition and rhetoric. For too long, they assert, FYC students have needed to be “read rather than judged, evaluated, analyzed, diagnosed, or corrected.” (p. 122) Actually, publishing offers student writers unique learning experiences, but submitting to YSW is no cake walk: to be sure, their peer review can be quite strict, insisting on repeated revisions. What separates the YSW approach from a typical writing workshop, though, is “a different yardstick” – the exhilaration of aiming for such public approval can be especially inspiring, especially for more ambitious writers. (p. 127) One drawback, technically speaking, is that the YSW doesn't quite qualify as SWACT, since YSW is an external publication and, therefore, extra-curricular. Of course, teachers could conceivably design YSW publication into the curriculum, such that it's a vital part of the pedagogy rather than an optional addendum, although this might prove intimidating for more developing writers. Still, such a goal might provide just the real-world motivation needed to energize students to reach beyond their normal limits.

      Karen McDonnell and Kevin Jefferson, like the authors touting YSW, support publishing student writing in order to give them the “expert” status they deserve, and to elevate the social value of student writing in general. McDonnell and Jefferson (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) note that even a praise-worthy publication like YSW is run by faculty, not students. Ostensibly, this subverts the intention to teach students to write for an authentic audience: “Students hoping to . . . be published write to please their teacher, and beyond that teacher is another set of teachers to please.” (p. 108-109) By contrast to YSW, McDonnell and Jefferson offer a course on publishing where every student is an editor for the online journal e-Vision. The instructors' primary contribution is to help student editors devise a basic structure for a rubric for student writing, which they base on readings of the recent volume of e-Vision. Otherwise, the teacher's role is to guide student editors toward making and defending decisions based on the texts. Mostly, the class is run by students, voting on submissions and defending their choices, with instructors involvement limited to playing devil's advocate, asking questions and encouraging explanations. These student editors, analyzing and commenting on texts of students who are not present, because of this distance, learn to write openly and honestly. Occasionally, though, this can distance can engender “sneering comments and group ridicule,” but teachers turn these into teachable moments that lead to other skills students need to learn, such as “sensitivity, maturity and responsibility.” (p. 114) Arguably, the most delicate task for these student editors is later motivating student writers, face to face, to make revisions. Presumably, this is where a teacher's guidance in soft skills make all the difference. Like the YSW model, the e-Vision approach takes peer review techniques from the writing workshop and turns them into what Krashen calls meaningful situations, which potentially provide the greatest opportunities for learning. Of course, most schools can't afford an entire course devoted to publishing a journal like e-Vision. Then again, one instructor at James Madison University wrote a unique curriculum that transforms the writing workshop into a preparatory exercise targeting e-Vision as the end goal, proving that such a real-world application can be as pragmatic as it is idealistic.

Parameters

Common sense would seem to say that applying SWACT without caution could prove problematic, particularly in respect to whole-class explication of student work. What if a student is offended by a teacher's whole-class examination of a paper? What if people outside the safety of the classroom read a paper out of context? In order to minimize discomfort and maximize ethical treatment, Paul V. Anderson and Heidi A. McKee assert that certain parameters need to be followed when sharing student work with a class. After all, young students are known for a degree of volatility; moreover, anyone might be sensitive to the vulnerability of exposing private thoughts and experiences and personal writings beyond the familiar audience of the classroom. Anderson and McKee (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) recommend certain guidelines when working with student texts: Students need to know who, other than us, as instructors, will see their texts. Teachers need to request student permission for the use of their writings; ideally, this should be in writing. Students need a choice between using their real names or pseudonyms. Even when they consent to participate, they need to know they can withdraw permission at a later date. Finally, when in doubt about sharing a student's text, the authors advise, make a substitute. (pp. 75-76) I would go so far as to add that, without respect for these parameters, teaching with SWACT would be playing with fire, especially in whole-class analysis. Careful, considered planning is vital before beginning.

     Still, despite the risks, the potential in SWACT is enormous, both for building student confidence and building a sense of community. Though he acknowledges that workshop discussion can expose flaws in student writing and thinking, Rolf Norgaard points out that, as they confront their assumptions, they're also exposed to “intellectual and emotional resources within themselves . . . that they otherwise might not have found.” Norgaard (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) writes of a certain student in his class who was “terrified” to of share her work. By semester's end, though, the weeks of challenging one another brought the group closer:

. . . as we were saying our good-byes and inquiring about summer plans, this student turned to the class and in a moving expression of gratitude and solidarity, said she had never felt so supported – intellectually and emotionally – as in this writing class. That support came not from superficial praise but from a deep critical engagement with each other's ideas as thinkers and with each other's challenges as serious writers. (pp. 236-237) I think most teachers might agree that this is exactly the kind of experience many of us go into teaching in hopes of generating, even if they're far and few between. It appears such great results only come from taking great chances.

     Admittedly, SWACT carries risks. The editors (as cited in Harris et al., 2010) of Teaching with Student Texts suggest that the most significant danger is that, in critiquing student papers, we might inadvertently emphasize product over process, “eradicating errors and legislating forms and genres.” (p. 3) In implementing SWACT, it would be critical, therefore, to emphasize, not the “right” answers, but how to discover and justify answers. From what I know of SWACT, I tend to side with Rolf Norgaard (as cited in Harris et al., 2010), who holds that the benefits outweigh the risks. What at first appears to be SWACT's greatest drawback might be its greatest advantage:

As we work with student texts in the classroom, . . . they see us sharing in their inquiry, encouraging intellectual risk taking . . . Our approach to drafts can send a message that all writing worth reading grows from a willingness to take risks. (p. 231)

      If we're sincere in asking students to take risks in their writing, to dig deeper, to really find out what they believe and what needs to be said, then we have to be willing to face the chaos that can come with a SWACT classroom, even if some students – like the one Norgaard describes – are “terrified”.

     Even if the most terrified person in the room is the teacher.

References

Anderson, P. V. and McKee, H. A. (2010) Ethics, student writers, and the use of student texts to teach.

     Harris, J., Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles, P. (Eds.) Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State

     University Press. 60-77.

Bartholomae, D. and Petrosky, A. (1986) Facts, Artifacts and Counterfacts. Boynton/Cook     /Heinemann

Bruch, P. and Reynolds, T. (2010) Reframing student writing in writing studies composition classes.

Harris, J., Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles, P. (Eds.) Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State

     University Press. 78-87.


Downs, D., Estrem, H. and Thomas, S. (2010) Students' texts beyond the classroom: young scholars

     in writing's challenges to college writing instruction. Harris, J., Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles, P.

    (Eds.) Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State University Press. 118-128.

Fife, J. M. Bringing outside texts in and inside texts out. (2010) Harris, J., Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles,

      P. (Eds.) Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State University Press. 220-228.


Horner, B. Re-valuing student writing. (2010) Harris, J., Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles, P. (Eds.)  

     Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State University Press. 9-23.


McDonnell, K. and Jefferson, K. (2010) Products as process: teaching publication to students. Harris,

     J., Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles, P. (Eds.) Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State University

     Press. 108-117.


Norgaard, R. Embracing uncertainty: the kairos of teaching with student texts. (2010) Harris, J.,

     Miles, J.D., Paine, Charles, P. (Eds.) Teaching with Student Texts: Utah State University Press.

     229-242.


Salvatori, M. Conversations with texts: reading in the teaching of composition. College English. 58

     (4), 440-454.

Slade, J. R., Jr. The student-authored essay as a teaching tool. Journal of the Scholarship of Teaching 

     and Learning. 10 (3), 31-40.

Prose That Beats the Pros: Student Writing as Classroom Text

Slade, John R., Jr. (2010) The student-authored essay as a teaching tool. Journal of the Scholarship of Teaching and Learning, 10 (3) (Nov.), 31-40.

       How do students feel about reading student-authored essays, as opposed to professional essays, in the writing class?  

      This is the question driving this research article by John R. Slade, a professor at North Carolina A&T State University. To find out, he surveyed 84 FYC students in five Critical Writing classes over two semesters from fall 2008 and spring 2009. The class of freshmen in these classes came from a broad range of backgrounds, educationally speaking: 45% ranked in the top two-fifths of their high school class and 47% in the bottom three-fifths. If these students' training left them ill-prepared for university, this was reflected in their self-confidence in academia. For example, when Wabash College did a study of 27 institutions on student attitudes, NC A&T students ranked 26^th when asked if they were willing to work hard to earn superior grades.  
      The article's thesis is “to measure how students perceive two types of writing models in a foundation-writing course,” either professional or student-written essays.  Slade's argument says students prefer student writing because they can relate to it and because they can understand it better than professional writing, all of which builds their self-confidence as writers. Evidence for this article comes primarily from the survey, and partly from sundry student replies to more open-ended questions, the details of which are not clear. The survey, derived from students' replies to three key survey questions, addresses essays – both professional and student-authored – from the classroom text, Critical Thinking, Reading and Writing by Sylvan Barnett and Hugo Bedau. 
      Respondents were asked a) if they preferred student or professional essays, b) which sort they “referenced” more frequently in their own writing, and c) which type of essay they would recommend to a colleague in a Critical Writing course.  Most notably, Slade's research found that, compared to professional essays, students preferred student-authored texts by nearly 3 to 1. Less clear was what they meant when they said they “referenced” student essays more than professional essays (51% vs 45%; 3% were neutral). The writer admits that the respondents were likely confused about the verb “reference” in this context. (Some considered “referencing” to be any time the teacher himself called a student text to their attention, which was often, according to Slade, since they appeared to avoid professional essays, except for homework.) When asked which variety of essay students would recommend to a colleague, professional essays received zero votes, while student-authored essays got only 13%; the most popular response was “both professional and student essays,” with 83%.

       Though he offers no detailed student responses to more open-ended questions, Slade seems moved by what he found. “Students writers,” he says, “long for instruction and instructional tools that emphasize immediate and practical uses.” (37)  Such replies led the author to conclude that students prefer student-authored essays because they provide simple models that follow the espoused mechanical parameters of composition, contrasted to professional essays, which more frequently break the rules that composition classes uphold. Slade uses this information, ancillary though it may be to the primary interests of the survey, to support an extended defense of “formula” essays – that is, simple rule-based models with strong topic sentences – for the FYC classroom. 
     The article concludes that student-authored essays bear the best fruit in foundational writing courses, especially for marginal writers, since “professional writers often stylize their prose with techniques too advanced for the average. . . writer to imitate.” The paper's strongest point, though, is that student writing is less intimidating and; young writers' confidence “seems to receive a boost from exposure to writing by their peers.” (39)

       Slade's argument is generally strong and, for the most part, it holds water. Certainly, for struggling writers who are admittedly poor or reluctant readers, it's not surprising that they lean toward student-essays. After all, they can't seem to relate to anything they deem professional. In fact, Slade at some point experimented with student texts from his own class, and the general response was even more positive than when using student-authored essays from the course textbook. Clearly, students felt that anything published professionally was a sign of perfection – a perfection that they couldn't hope to achieve in their own writing.

       If there's a weak spot in to Slade's article – aside from the fact that the replies to his third question are far from conclusive (see above) – it comes from his conclusion, drawn less from the survey than from replies to ancillary notes students included, that students prefer student essays because they embody the compositional structure promoted in class better. If the author found such information so impressive, then why not detail them? For example, how many students remarked that they were “longing” for practical models? Why not supply a quote or two? Personally, I wonder how much of Slade's defense of simple, rule-bound essay models was derived from student survey responses and how much was derived from hunches based on anecdotal remarks from personal encounters with an unspecified group of students. Not that hunches are invalid; they have their place. But I think we can agree that they need to be made explicit in a research paper.

       Of course, in his efforts to teach writing, Slade seems to have overlooked an important and very relevant point. Research shows that students who read better write better, which lends support for integrated reading and writing, and for the notion of exposing them to more complex readings by accomplished writers. Slade's conclusion holds little quarter for challenging students as readers, only as writers; in fact at no point does he mention the power of integrating reading and writing. I would submit that an apt scaffolding is needed for such marginal writers. Like Bartholomae and Petrosky in Facts, Artifacts and Counterfacts, Slade might do well to work with student texts exclusively early on, especially with writings of his own students, then later bring students to challenge themselves with more difficult readings by professionals, if it comes to that.