Response to Thonus

Quote from Terese Thonus, “Tutor and Student Assessments of Academic Writing Tutorials: What is ‘Success?’” Page 188:

Of the 12 tutors, Tutor F provided the most extensive critique of his own “directiveness.” He felt that doing “more constructive work than Socratic work” was a decision harmful to the student: “The authority you have as an instructor—when you say that, it’s as good as said. Someone’s going to walk away thinking, ‘The instructor or tutor responded to that. I’m on to something.’ You want them to be on to it because of their winnowing out the wheat from the chaff. You don’t want them to be on it because you said, ‘I like it.’” 

I fully agree with the idea of this passage. The purpose of writing center sessions is to help writers grow and learn, which makes it necessary for the writers to think through their papers on their own rather than merely believing a certain detail is good or bad because of an advisor’s comment. This bit of Tutor F’s approach to advising will definitely be incorporated into my own. In the attempt to balance directive and nondirective techniques, I believe it important for an advisor to frequently analyze his or her approach to avoid taking a position of authority that hinders or eliminates a writer’s personal, thoughtful analysis of his or her work. A session should enable a writer to see his or her work’s strengths, weaknesses, and its potential, but the writer should be able to justify those critiques through their own thought process, not merely the authoritative voice of an advisor.

Example Essays in the Classroom and the Writing Center

This past week I have been working on a close-reading essay for one of my other classes. It’s the first close-reading essay I have written, and although it is not extremely different from a full literary analysis (other than the fact that it focuses on a very short section of the work), I have still been looking up more information about the structure and content of such an essay. The assignment handout asks students to “choose 1 compelling theme, issue or question we’ve discussed over the past few weeks and address it by close reading a short, 3-5 page section” of the novel. “Also,” it reads, “you will likely want to pay attention to such elements as sentence structure, style, imagery, figurative language, word choice, and maybe even grammar and punctuation.” It then lists traits of “an excellent close-reading essay,” including “a clear thesis statement” and “multiple examples from the passage.” This assignment has taken more effort on my part because of my unfamiliarity with this kind of paper, and has left me wondering why I have never seen example essays used in the classroom or in the Writing Center.

First, let me say that this post is based on my personal experiences, and that there may very well be example essays used in other classes or even in the Writing Center. If this is true, I would love to hear about them and their use in a learning environment.

Anyway, as I was working on this assignment, I realized that assignment sheets do not always help students to know what is needed to write a good essay, especially for those unfamiliar with that specific type of paper. The lists of requirements given on such sheets are often quite general, and could leave many students wondering where to start. An attempt to complete an essay strictly according to the information given could still be far from what is expected by the professor. For these reasons, I think the use of example essays may help students to grow as writers. Such examples would give students who struggle with basic structural or content issues an idea of what makes a good paper. Of course, the example used wouldn’t need to be an essay of the same topic (probably shouldn’t be, actually), but I think just seeing how someone formed his or her ideas into a particular type of essay may be more helpful than a mere list of requirements. I do not mean “example” as in a model essay format copied by the student—perhaps it would be better to show a few different papers to give an idea of the variety of possibilities while still giving the student writer an idea of how and why each paper was successful. Still, I am sure the use of examples would only be possible for certain kinds of papers (more analytical or technical ones would work well while creative ones may not).

Have any of you ever had a professor provide an example paper to show students what is expected of an assignment? Are there any such examples used in the Writing Center that I just don’t know about? If the answer to either of these questions is “no,” then why are examples not used?

Thoughts

Multiple articles we’ve read have presented the idea of focusing on the student rather than the paper in a writing center session. In the article “Minimalist Tutoring: Making the Student Do All the Work,” Brooks seems to be taking this concept to the extreme. Although I agree that making students take initiative in the process of revision is very important, I also know through my own experiences in the writing center that getting actual feedback on a paper can be helpful. I don’t think I’ve ever had a session where the advisor actually had no response to my paper and tried to make me come up with critiques entirely on my own. Still, these theories about minimalist tutoring bring me back to North’s statement, “our job is to produce better writers, not better writing,” which, as some of us have mentioned previously, can be a little misleading/inappropriate. Discussing the particular paper at hand and helping the writer to find ways to improve it can help the writer make mental notes of how to improve his or her writing in the future. I am not sure if it would even be possible to “produce better writers” if we did not help the writers see what is needed to produce “better writing.”

The issue of students who come to the writing center hoping to get a good grade on a paper is hard to criticize. The structure of schooling since we were young has encouraged this outlook, and in some cases the students who care about their grade also care more about their work than others do (I’m not talking about those who merely wish to avoid failing a class—that presents a very different problem). As an example, I will present my own case.

I have been guilty of avidly following this reward system of grades and grade point averages since I was in elementary school. I’ve always been a straight-A student to a fault—I recall an occasion in seventh grade when I received a B+ in a class and didn’t know how to handle it. I am embarrassed by this past obsession now, although I habitually continue to strive for As. I truly do enjoy learning, though. The problem with this high-achieving standard for grades is that it draws the focus away from the learning process itself and instead leads students to relentlessly struggle along this ranking system that supposedly has some correlation to success in the world beyond. It’s quite disheartening for me to think about—many people seem to miss what is truly important. Anyway, the point of this rant is that I do care tremendously about learning and improving my own skills, but I also am a member of a society that has led me to care about my grades. I know there are many other students like me who come to the writing center, and I don’t think they should be viewed in a negative light for caring about how their work will be received according to the reward system that affects us all.

Peers have opinions too!

Unlike Peter Carino conveys in his essay, “Power and Authority in Peer Tutoring,” I don’t think a session automatically loses its egalitarian or peer-to-peer environment when the advisor steps outside of the “nondirective” method to offer advice. We, as advisors, may be more knowledgeable than students who visit the writing center when it comes to writing, but we don’t always know more about the subjects of papers, as Carino notes. In any situation, knowledge is not entirely equal—even friends give advice to one another. I know I don’t sit around with my friends asking, “Well, what do you think you should do?” if it appears that they may benefit from my opinion. The fact that I do give advice doesn’t really place me in a position of authority; it is simply collaborative thought. However, I think it is important to be aware of the way we word our advice to another person. For example, instead of saying “You need to. . .” I would prefer “I think doing this may help you. . .” or “It would probably be a good idea to. . .”. (<-- Is that period out of place?! The ellipsis is throwing me off.) Then again, these preferences may just be the result of my less-assertive nature.

On the other hand, I know the position of the advisor and the position of the student differ in a session, even in the eyes of most students. After visiting the writing center for the first time, I did view the advisors differently for a while when I saw them around campus. They were still my peers, but their position as an advisor set them apart from other people in some ways. Perhaps it would have been different if I had initially seen them outside of the writing center in a more informal environment. Still, that initial view of advisors was not necessary for me to accept their advice, though it may be for other people. I occasionally have friends look over my work and give me feedback as well, and their non-authoritative position does not make their feedback insignificant either.

On a slightly random note, the problem with “faculty who suspect tutoring is a form of plagiarism” might benefit from in-class demonstrations of tutoring sessions. Then again, a suspicious professor may opt out of such a demonstration, but there has to be some way we could show faculty members what goes on in the Writing Center. . .

Lastly, it’s great that “coffee, cookies, and couches” are common enough throughout writing centers that they can be called “the three Cs.” I was actually sitting on a couch, drinking coffee, and eating a cookie when I read that statement (not kidding), so it is pretty clear that I enjoy each of those things. They make me happy.

Response to Stephen M. North's "Revisiting 'The Idea of a Writing Center'"

In contrast to North's original essay, "Revisiting 'The Idea of a Writing Center'" was clearly written in a more rational and realistic mindset. He and his colleagues have modified the approach of the Writing Center and related programs at Albany to better suit their needs and capabilities as a large research university, which is great—every Center must do its best within its limits. Still, as I was reading, I found myself increasingly thankful to be at a small liberal arts college—many of the issues discussed in this essay are not significant problems at Wittenberg. The close-knit, familiar environment North attempts to foster at Albany is already present here naturally, enabling the Writing Center to play a larger role throughout campus. Fortunately, our Writing Center has established the "tutor-to-student and staff-to-faculty ratio[s]" that make many of North's original ideas possible.

North's reevaluation of the relationship between tutor and writer seemed much more accurate than the original. It's undeniably important that tutors accept the fact that not all writers are going to be passionate about their work. Still, even when a student is required to bring a piece of writing to the Center, the tutor is presented with an opportunity to make the student more comfortable talking about his or her work and possibly even more enthusiastic about expressing ideas in writing.

Response to Stephen M. North's "The Idea of a Writing Center"

Although I respect North's passionate attempt to refute the views of Writing Centers as remedial or "fix-it" centers, there were certain points in his essay that seem a little too polarized. For example, I agree that Writing Centers exist first and foremost to talk to writers about their work, but should those seeking help with more specific skills (such as spelling or punctuation, as North mentions) really be turned away? While helping students with more basic aspects of writing is not a Center's primary role, there are few other resources for students with these issues. Still, I know it would be frustrating if professors only referred students to the Center when "special problems" are identified, as North seems to have experienced prior to his essay. The key issue is the perceived purpose of Writing Centers, and I agree with his attempt to correct that image. However, I don't think refusing to assist students with these more basic issues is the best solution. Writing Centers should, in my opinion, help writers with all aspects of the writing process. If a student comes in willingly and wants to learn more about spelling, punctuation, or whatever else, I see nothing wrong with tutoring him or her in the Center.

For further clarification, I fully agree that students should not (and hopefully cannot) simply drop off their papers and expect tutors to serve as editors. However, if a student comes to the Writing Center hoping to actually learn how to identify and correct their mistakes themselves, I think that is perfectly acceptable.