fete41

Here is a helpful link for those of you who wish to use blogs:

http://www.emints.org/ethemes/resources/S00001449.shtml

In what can only be chalked up to a great coincidence (or great irony), I read Beach’s chapter on blogs while supervising two classes at Irondale—while they worked on BLOGS!  Well, in the interest of full disclosure they weren’t really blogs, but very similar.  In one of the classes, the blogs worked pretty well.  In the other class—well, did I mention they worked well in the first class?  The first class was the CIS class mentioned in my ethnography.  They were to research historical criticisms on Little Balzac and the Chinese Seamstress—then form their own historical criticisms based on research of the Chinese revolution.  This was all very heavy stuff, but the students are all high achievers and worked quietly on the computers all hour.

The second class was a general mythology course.  They were to pick a modern day celebrity and hold he or she to the heroic standards they learned about the day before. They did not work well.  Circling through the lab, I saw less than 30% of the students working on the project.  I did, however, learn lots about the Camaro/Mustang debate, what is appearing in People magazine this week, and all manner of other things.  At first we just hoped they would work.  They didn’t.  Then we said they wouldn’t have to turn in a completed blog post, but show what they did during the hour. That didn’t work.  At the end of the hour, our 35 students produced less work than a college student on spring break.

While I am not saying blogs and wikis are a bad idea—I think they have some TREMENDOUS up sides—I feel there is a strong possibility of students just shunning the assignment.  I like that blogs allow students to engage in an ongoing debate, and allows them to participate in an online community.  That said, the Internet offers lots of alluring alternatives to making your blog post.  I guess I am looking for suggestions on how to keep the students on the task—and not finding out how Britney is doing in rehab?

I had to laugh in reading Dean’s article on grammar.  Specifically, her grammar mistake she makes in the intro.  By saying “I started badly” she is saying she was bad at starting—not that she has a poor start (which I think she was going for).

Over the years I have seen numerous different strategies for teaching grammar.  My first years of school in Ireland were ruled by grammar (it is called Grammar School, after all).  This format resulted in me hating grammar rules, developing a brain-block to forget this time, and very sore knuckles.   When I came back to the U.S. I had a lovely woman named Ms. Segner for my 9^th grade composition class.  She was so nice she would often pervert the grammar rules; less someone feel bad for making a mistake.  One of my favorite lessons of hers was when she told the class that we could use the semicolon at any point; (incorrect use, but I look intelligent, no?) and it would make us look more intelligent.  Not only did I not learn anything, but it was more boring than a pub in an Amish village.  I almost wished Father Tooley would slap me with a ruler; at least that was memorable.

Finally, in 10^th grade, I found a teacher who got it right (odd, I can’t remember her name).  She didn’t make us memorize endless lists of prescriptive rules; she guided us with helpful hints on how to effectively use English.  It is from her that I learned many of my favorite lessons that I now share with my students.

When I first started teaching a creative writing course, I wrongly assumed the students would know many of the rules that govern syntax and grammar (I thought we all had Father Tooleys that beat the love of grammar into us).  I received the first round of short stories and promptly realized these students lived in a world where grammar was free flowing and interpretable by the person.  While I wish this was the case, there is something to be said for clarity and brevity in writing.  I once had the privilege of getting to talk with the editor of the Atlantic Monthly and he told me that if he starts reading a submission and finds two grammar errors on the first page he stops reading.

So, I decided to take a lesson from 10^th grade teacher and strove to interject grammar lessons whenever possible.  When reading A Blessing by James Wright, one student asked about the lines: They have come gladly out of the willows/To welcome my friend and me.  Sensing a teachable moment, I started to explain the differences and watched as 30 sets of eyes looked everywhere that was not at me.  I stopped and explained that if you delete the first actor (my friend) and said the sentence to yourself, the sentence made a lot more sense.  I had the students write sentence of a similar nature, with points for humor.  They participated in a grammar lesson and didn’t even know it.  It was like stealing free wireless Internet from your neighbor; you get what you want, and they don’t even know what is going on. 

That was a long-winded way of saying that grammar should be taught in context. 

Here is a good site with lots of teaching methods and grammar games.  Woo, games. 

http://www.edufind.com/english/grammar/index.cfm

Reading right three about a student’s right to go off topic reminds me of a conversation I had with y co-operating teacher.  She handed me a paper one of her students had handed in, and asked me what grade I would give the paper.  It was clearly well-written, but appeared to be a bit off topic.  I suggested a B/B- would be appropriate; with the understanding that some revision could raise the grade.  She had a lower grade in mind and stressed that the paper was just too off topic to receive that high of a grade.  Clearly, with my teacher—staying on topic means a lot.  And I can’t say that I entirely disagree.  However, there is a clear difference between this paper and the example from Right 3.  To me, this issues goes back to the old legal phrase “the letter of the law versus the intent of the law.”  I am getting slightly off topic here, but Spandel says that is OK. You need to look at if the paper meets the goal of the assignment; even if using a slightly different method for getting there.  The example paper mentioned in Right 3 only went off topic in regard that the author wrote about two animals instead of one.  The example paper from my school was off topic in the sense that it didn’t make an explicit comparison—the goal of the assignment.

However, where I differ from my co-op teacher is in my belief that off topic papers are usually the result of students not understanding an assignment—and that is usually the result of the teacher not explaining the topic clearly.

Finally, I would like to note that this applies mostly to academic papers.  Creative writing can—and should—take liberties with the assignment’s guidelines.  A good writing teacher will then find a way to work that creative muse into something closer to the assignment’s intent.

http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/ has some good writing prompts for creative writing.  Some prompts are better than others—but all will leave lots of opportunity for your students to disregard the topic altogether. 

I would have posted this sooner, but I was busy revising it in a peer group. OK, that was a bad joke, but I couldn’t find anyway to lead into what I wanted to say.

I guess I could start by saying that I found the readings on Vista to be helpful and informative. I have always taken a keen interest in the process of peer review and conferencing. I have seen the process work quite well, and I have seen the process go to complete shit. While most of my experiences have been in the realm of creative writing, I feel the lessons learned there are applicable to more academic forms as well.

Since some of you (Candance) expressed interest in my peer conferencing format; here it is:

Allow students to pair up; then place pair these pairs with another pair (repetitive word usage). Preferably, the two groupings shouldn’t be friends. Inside that group of four each student should be assigned to one of the following roles:

Grammar Guru checks for grammar, spelling, and “typos.”

Foreman (or forewoman) of Flow looks for transitions and sees if the whole piece is consistent.

Wizard of Word Choice looks for stronger and more interesting words to use.

Content Commander looks over the whole assignment to make sure the specific goals and objectives are being met.

These roles, of course, should be interchanged with each paper; however, I believe it is crucial to keep the students in the same group in order to form a bond of trust and create a sense of accountability. I liked the passage in the readings that pointed out the students who realized “when one student gets an A, it is like we all are getting As.” While this is terribly cheesy—and the student who wrote it probably doesn’t have any of his own As to feel good about—there is some truth to this. Once the students realize that they are working toward a common goal, the work will improve dramatically.

Finally, give the groups time. They may not work at first and there will be a temptation to abandon them. Give it some time and soon you will have a bunch of mini-Shakespeares. And you know what that means: less grading for you. Oh, and better reading to read.

http://www.customwritten.com/Writing/peer-editing.html is a good site for peer editing tips. There is even a handy check-list that will save you having to actually type up a check-list for your students.

I must say, the readings this week were rather entertaining.  I wonder how many of these writers used the 5 paragraph essay.  After reading all the articles, I have to say that I agree most with Nunnally.  Of course, that is probably the easy way out—he seems to be quite the fence-sitter.

While I am familiar with the 5 paragraph essay; I am not sure I was ever instructed to write one in school (telling my cooperating teacher that was the third time she referred to me as an idiot—or some form—in one day).  I think my high school called them umbrella essays, but even that I am not sure about as I try to forget most of those years.

No matter what catchy title you give this basic form, the idea remains boringly similar:  thesis, three supporting ideas, conclusion—all that happy crap.  While not terribly interesting, I think this form is important for students to at least understand.  A lot of important information in life is conveyed in a similar manner as the 5 paragraph essay.  True, the students won’t write essays like this in college, and they don’t allow for much creativity—but that is OK.  The authors did a good job of comparing these essays to snappy metaphors.  I like to think of these essays as water wings while learning to swim—you don’t just jump into the ocean.  Or maybe the double-bladed skates that young kids get.  Or maybe the bar that goes on the bed of small kids (and Nate) so they don’t fall out.  Or maybe fake razors to learn how to shave.  Or maybe…ok, I am annoying now.  My point is that the five paragraph essay teaches kids the basics for writing in academia.  It is the teacher’s fault—not the essay’s form—if students are still doing the 5 paragraph essay when they are seniors in high school.

http://www.geocities.com/soho/Atrium/1437/tips.html
Here is a good Web site for tips on coaxing (tricking) students into thinking these essays are interesting.

Why I think Multi-Genre Papers Are Bad

I enjoyed reading the sections about multi-genre paper, and honestly do believe they sound like fun. However, the papers are about as useful to a student’s literary development as a hot stick to the eye.

My main issue with papers of this type is that they are not preparing students for college. These students are going to turn up at college, get assigned a paper whereby they must analyze one of Shakespeare’s sonnets—and want to write a paper where they use drama and poetry. The student fails that paper, then another (maybe an in-depth look at Romantic-era poetry using haiku), then the class. Soon, the student has flunked out of college and is working practicing his multi-genre skills at McDonalds.

That said, this method WOULD work for students are disengaged in a topic. However, papers of this sort should only be used on occasion and alongside other, more formal papers.  These multi-genre papers would also work better with younger students who are only entering the world of formal paper writing.  They are kind of like papers with training wheels.
I feel that too often we are looking for “fun” methods to get students interested in a topic. School isn’t supposed to be fun. Interesting, yes. Insightful and engaging, definitely. Sometimes these things are fun, sometime not. We are creating a generation of students who feel entitled to an education that entertains them, while lacking the substance to prepare them for their future endeavors.

http://nutsandbolts.washcoll.edu/thinking.htm

I think this page offers some more helpful hints to engage students—ones that will actually help prepare them for their lives after happy high school days.

Of this week’s reading, I was most interested by Carney’s article. I was particularly interested in her ideas on writing workshops. I appreciated her attempts to work with what has often been a difficult task for me. One weakness in her article was she made very little mention in how to motivate students that these edits are important.

I have often used writing workshops and peer conferencing in my creative writing classes. However, I must confess these efforts have been met with mixed results.

One of the biggest problems that I run into involves students saying they don’t feel comfortable commenting on their peers writing. This is an interesting statement, as these students are able to talk for ages about these peers outside of class—about anything from their personal lives to how they are doing in school. There appears to be a barrier in what they are comfortable doing and saying in class. I wonder if this stems from really not knowing how to peer conference or not wanting to peer conference.

One of the best strategies I have tried in my classes involves dividing the students up in groups of five. Much like our beloved lit circles, the students are all given roles. One student is to look for grammar and spelling errors, another is to look for transitions, another still for word choice, and finally a student addresses the holes in the paper (areas of confusion). By having each student work on a specific area, a paper is given a more thorough look-through and more quality comments are made.

Of course, a teacher needs to set up several ideas with the students. First, the students must realize they are to critique the paper, not the person. Only then will the students feel comfortable commenting and submitting their papers for peer review. Second, I find it is desirable to have the same students work together for the entire semester. The more time spent with the students, the greater element of trust established. Finally, the teacher must establish that each student has the requisite knowledge to comment and improve their peers’ papers.

Once these steps are in place, a productive and beneficial peer edit may occur.

http://www.middleweb.com/ReadWrkshp/JK63.html is another blog (sort-of) addressing the idea of writing workshops.  I really enjoyed Week 24’s post.  There is a nice story about dealing with students who lean too heavily on the teacher.

When I arrived in Paderborn I was as clueless as any other twenty-year old exchange student.  Cutting through a week’s worth of red tape left me sitting in a cold, steel Ikea chair waiting for a man named Herr Schwer.  In English, Mr. Hard.  Not a character in a 70s porno, Herr Schwer had the final say if I would be able to stay here to study.  I imagined he would be enormous, the sort of man legends are passed down about, statues erected for.  His red cheeks and handlebar mustache as German as Oktoberfest and mechanical soccer.  With an accent heavy on w’s he would explain I was too late, and he simply couldn’t let me stay.  Thanks for playing, better luck next time.

Germany requires anyone staying more than a month in one location to register with the town and state büros.  (Actually, I have no idea if this is accurate or not.  I may have done all this for nothing).  While Germany is the only place I have heard that requires this procedure, it seems something that would make George W. Bush salivate.  Some believe this policy is a result of Germans’ distaste of foreigners, others believe it is due to an overwhelming love for needless paperwork.

A secretary at the Universität Paderborn mailed a packet of information to help with the registration to my house detailing the daunting application procedure.  A nice gesture, however, somewhat superfluous because by the time the packet arrived I was already a week into my schnitzel-laden trip.  Through a series of faxes and smoke signals my family managed to get me the info.

The university had arranged for a “buddy” to meet me at the local Burger King so he could show me to my apartment and help me get set up.  After he showed me to my small flat he told me he was leaving for Austria for the next two weeks. Nice to meet you too, “buddy”.

My packet of information said my first task was to verify housing with my Hausmeister or landloard.  In trying to find the Hausmeister I learned one of the most essential rules any traveler to Germany can know:  Nothing is ever open when you need it.  Grocery stores shut down at curious times, banks keep such slim hours it is a wonder they make money, even restaurants close at random times during the day.  But through all the chaos there is an order.  The stores close down so the employees can go to the bank or get something to eat, and the banks close in order to let their employees go shop.

I’m sure you can see where this is going. The Hausmeister’s office was closed, but I noted he was kind enough to be open for one hour the next day.  Deciding that I probably wouldn’t be deported if I waited an extra day, I went back to my apartment.  It was the only place open.

Without an alarm clock (the stores were closed), I slept in past the Hausmeister’s hours the next morning.  Panicking, I ran to his office in hopes he would still be around.  Once there, I saw a large man with a bushy mustache and rounded body who looked not unlike a walrus.  After learning he was in fact the Hausmeister, I launched into a frantic dialogue about how I was lost and needed help and didn’t want to get deported.  I was about three sentences in when he, not so politely, informed me that his office hours were over, and I should come back tomorrow.  Apparently he misunderstood, I was lost, I was an American, and surely he could help.  But Mr. Walrus was not having it, I needed to wait until tomorrow before he would talk with me.

I decided to take a walk around campus and ponder my growing anger toward Germany, when I saw my friend Alex who had lived with me the year before in the U.S.  It is safe to say I have never, nor do I assume I ever will again, been so happy to see a six-foot-five German.  Alex showed me to the Akademisches Auslandsamt, or the centre for lost foreign exchange students, and introduced me to the co-ordinator of the exchange programme.  It was there my problems really began.

The Co-ordinator gave me yet another packet of forms to fill out for the registration process.  I can say with a fair degree of certainty that countries have thrown military coups with less planning than these forms required.  In Haiti, for example, a man is able to divorce his wife simply by declaring he no longer wishes to be with her.  Apparently I needed two letters of recommendation to use the bathroom in Germany.

The next morning, with the aid of a newly purchased alarm clock, I was at the Hausmeister’s office before it opened.  I signed the lease and was on my way in less than a minute.  Clearly, it was important I waited a whole day to sign the lease.

Looking down my checklist, the next thing I on my agenda was to go to a local German insurance agency and receive a Bescheinigung über die Befreiung von der Versicherungspflicht releasing me from my compulsory insurance in the U.S.  Or, as we would call it in the U.S., a signiture. I simply had to show them my insurance card and fill out a 345-page form.  With carpal tunnel setting in, I pressed on.

My next stop was to visit the Akademisches Auslandsamt again.  To my surprise I found people working inside.  Showing proof that I had signed my lease, opened a bank account, signed my life away to a German insurance agency, and promised them my first-born child, I was able to receive my German student ID card.  All that work and I was issued an “ID” that was actually just a thin piece of paper that said Paderborn Univeristät and my name on it.  No picture, no glossy lamination.  My childhood membership card to the Rice Krispie Cereal Club looked more offical than this.

The militant lady who issued my ID told me my next stop would be to go register with the Einwohnermeldeamt (Residents Office) and the Ausländerbehörde (Foreigners Office).  She explained that, while the offices were in the same location, it would be tricky because they both have very different hours and are quite often busy.  She gave me a map of where to find the offices, but in attempt to kill any hope I had remaining she added, “It is 2 p.m. so the workers have gone home for the day.  And tomorrow is a holiday so they won’t be around then.”  Not finished, she added, “Thursday is a bad day to go down there because the Einwohnermeldamt is closed.  And Friday the Ausländerbehörde is only open for an hour.”

I was almost ready to give up and take my chances at being deported when she offered me a schedule of their hours.  Now Germans aren’t known for their sense of humour, but whoever created these hours was obviously having a joke with the rest of the world.  A Mormon liqour store would be more accesible than this.  Assessing the times, I decided my best bet would be to wait until Monday and try to go then.

When Monday finally came around I packed up any possible thing they might ask for:  my lease, passport, extra passport photos, and my student ID.  I would even have brought my 5th grade report card if I could have found it.  I was determined to finish the the registration in one trip.

Heading the lady’s warning of long lines, I arrived at the Einwohnermeldeamt around 8 A.M.  I was directed to take a number and wait in a room to be helped.  There was one other Turkish couple in front of me in line.  When their number was called they ambled nervously up to a city employee who had the power to decide if they would be able to stay in Germany. 

In Germany the Turks are held in about the same esteem as Mexicans are in the U.S.  They are the largest ethnic group in Germany, totaling about two million immigrants and rising.  They “steal” the glorious labor-intensive jobs such as janitor and garbageman from other Germans.  When the Turks reluctance to assimilate into German culture is coupled with a steep unemployment rate, a very harsh stereotype results.

It has taken almost thirty years, but Germany is finally coming to grips with the fact that it has become—or at least has been for several years—a melting pot for foreigners.  In the German government there is a major initiative underway to abolish outdated legal principles that strongly discriminate against foreigners.  However, as this registration process shows, these new laws are a long way off.

I was a fair bit away from where their conversation took place, and German isn’t the most jovial language in the world, but it was clear the couple wasn’t having much luck with this employee.  After five minutes the couple got up and left the room with cheeks wet from tears.

After waiting for another five minutes or so the same employee called me to his desk and asked for my papers.  He was exceedingly short, almost elf-like, and clearly suffered from a case of Napoleon’s complex. He asked for my papers, and I handed him the sum total of a young tree.  Glancing through the stack, he handed it all back to me and told me I didn’t have a library card.  A what? A library card? I had come this far, and a library card was holding me back?  He told me to get one from the library and come back later that day.  I proceeded to tell him my thoughts on his mother in the most eloquent English I could muster.

Luckily enough, I was able to make it to the library on campus in time to see the librarian put up her “Out To Lunch” sign.  I used the hour to think up more things I would like to say to my elf friend upon my return and check email.  When the librarian returned, I explained my situation and that I needed a library card.  She told me that the thin student ID I had already received doubled as a library card, and said it should be all I needed.  Upon hearing this I mentioned her mother could join my elf friend’s mother.

Around this point I decided I was about done with this process and would make one further attempt at appeasing the German government.  This would be my last time making the twenty minute walk downtown to the büros; either they registered me now or I was going to stage my own coup on their fetish for paperwork.

Once there, something amazing happened:  Everything went smoothly.  I didn’t have to wait in any line.  I was helped by a young intern who aided me in getting my papers in order and ready to be stamped.  She then directed me to the Ausländerbehörde where I was sure my troubles would begin anew.  Instead of my problems continuing, the intern helped me through the line and showed me where to wait for Herr Schwer.

That about brings us to where we started.

A plump man, sporting cherub rosy cheeks and a bushy mustache entered the office and introduced himself as Herr Schwer. He looked so German it was comical.  He was the living embodiment of every German stereotype.  I fully expected him to have lederhosen hanging in his office and schnitzel grilling outside his window.  He let out a series of laughs in short raspy breathes that spilled forth like beer from a stein, “Well my friend.  I see you are finding out what it takes to become German.”  I explained to him my horrible week, and he listened in a manner I hadn’t seen yet in Germany; he was attentive, even nodding on occasion.  After I finished my sob story he stamped my papers and told me I was done.  I am sure he could sense my disappointment in going through all the aforementioned obstacles simply to receive a worthless stamp I probably could have purchased at the store.

Herr Schwer then did something I would have found rather creepy in any other context.  He told me he was getting off in a little bit and wondered if I would like to partake in another German custom:  Drinking massive quantities of beer.  Not usually offered alcohol from large German men, I was unsure how to answer.  Before I could say anything he added, “We’ll have to wait an hour or so, the pubs are closed right now.”

Our family gathered at McAdams Cemetery.
The church was booked for a wedding;
as that family danced in virgin white,
ours came clad in their finest black.
The service was outside; exposed
to a biting wind that seemed to find
its ways through all our layers.

His death was sudden like spring rain.
Not many expect a heart to attack at 35.
Years of constructing the foundations of a town
built you a reputation as vast as your wit.
Like when you convinced me stars sleep during
the day—so they can shine
at night. No one knew you would die while working
someone else’s dream.

Even in the bleakness of November,
with death all around,
the place carried a radiance.
Roses and Lisianthus adorn a box meant to house your soul.
The funeral director said he had never seen this many flowers before.

The vicar wore a cross, shielding
him from the tears of our family.
He passed the chalice around
and we blindly drank the wine that celebrated your life.
One final toast to a recovering alcoholic.
You’d have grabbed that bottle and nursed it
to the last drop.

One month before we laid your father to rest here.
Funerals have become our family reunions.
Now the ground is frozen in its stance and frost sets
itself around his name.  Next spring,
two James McManamons will rest side by side;
with the stillness of stars; never
waking to shine again.