Teachers and Students: Just Who Are The Lab-rats?

Offensive isn’t it? Whether applied to those doing the instruction or those receiving it, there is this underlying assumption that being labeled as a guinea pig subject to experimentation is incredibly degrading. I’m here to ask one basic question:

Why?

As someone who’s been on both ends of the spectrum and experienced firsthand the feeling of testing someone - and being equally tested on - I can understand the flagrant tension and emerging stress this causes. For a supposed leader in a position of power, this situation means that he/she is constantly subject to unimaginable scrutiny as students try to discover how much of his/her authority they can question, and - whether implicitly or explicitly - transgress. In all fairness though, the tug of war goes both ways as well, as teachers also use their own gimmicks to try and trick students into working for them the way they best see fit. Often teachers impose certain rules on one batch of students just to see how receptive their reactions on a certain type of activity are. The idea here is that if it passes it passes, and if it fails, they’ll simply test-drive a new strategy on a new batch of students. And so the cycle continues. Certainly there is a margin of error present in this messy journey to devising a one-size-fits all syllabus, but that’s just it. There isn’t one.

I’m here to debunk the myth that our role as educators is to put together the perfect manual that all students of different levels could keep up with, in just the same way that I’m also here to object to the idea that students always deal with any new teacher/course with the same mentality of wanting to achieve the highest grade possible for the least amount of work done.

Every student is different. Every teacher is different. Experimentation is both necessary and inevitable when it comes to both parties involved. In fact, I have observed that it is more of a game of chess than both teams would like to admit. The very basic bottom line is this: If we play with our students, our students will want to play with us too.

In fact, I only just observed this recently in one of the courses I was teaching in Fall 2013. I had announced how this entire semester was going to be an adventure whereby I was going to be putting my students through a lot via different activities and assignments just to see what worked best with them. I mention this as I find it funny how in this entire experiment of mine, I had viewed myself as the power-hungry mad scientist in control of everything, and yet was taken aback when once the semester ended one of my star A students approached me saying “I really enjoyed being your lab-rat this semester miss. I felt I learned a lot about your rationale behind every task you assigned”.

And just like that I realized: It’s never a one-way street. So how is my relationship with my students? Sure on most days they are perfectly aware that they are my victims, but I have humbly learned, that on many other days, I’m their lab-rat too. And it’s wonderful.

The Monosyllabic Challenge: Synchronized Single Syllables Synthesizing a Simple Story

I want to do this just to see if I can. The plan is to write words that have just one beat. A few months back, I taught a course and learned that a prof tried this game. He had his class write brief tales that were made of one-beat words. The class found it hard, and said it would sound dull and not deep at all. But the prof stood by his rule. He claimed that the mark of a good tale lies in how terse and clear it is. We don’t need large words to reach large crowds. This stuck with me and that is why I thought I should find out if it is true. In fact, I must stress, I paused too much each time I reached the end of the line and felt I could not add more. What else can I say? Is it that I left facts out? Or that there is still much to think of when it comes to this strange new art form?

There is one way to know which is the case. I must do what I do best and that means I should use the one skill grad school made sure I learned well: I must play with words. So here goes. Here is my short one-beat tale too:

There once were two souls that were so close you’d think they were one soul. They lived on a farm in a tree-house that one of the souls had built. They loved the earth so the souls had planned for their home to be near lots of green trees where cats can come to play. One of the souls loved to plant and tried to teach her mate to do the same. All was well and calm on this farm. There were no gods and thus no wars, no loss, and no pain. The souls did not have much but they had their love and their hard work. The two dreamed of bliss and longed for the day they could have more goals they could aim for. It seemed hard for each single soul. So, they focused their strength and piled all their hopes into one dream. With time, their joint will grew strong and soon they had all they wished for. They could now live in peace and raise their cats with love. 

This wraps up my one-beat test. I would have loved to write more but as I had to count since the start of it all, I now have cramps in my right hand and it seems to be in a strange curled up form. I best end this and take a break. I hope though, that I proved my point: Words are words, be they small or big, short or long. It is not the length or type of words that make your text rich, it is you. When you learn how to play with words not just for your own sake, but so all souls can find the joy in it, souls will come. And they will come to watch you do it. 

References

• Lederer, R. (1991). The case for short words. In Bob Brannan (Ed.) A Writer’s Workshop: Crafting Paragraphs, Building Essays (pp.629-631). Boston: McGraw Hill.

And what if English 203 were taught by a robot?

I recently introduced my Eng 203 students to the new unit we were going to cover this semester: Technology and the Posthuman. Since I always like to stir what I like to call “diplomatic fights” amongst them as I sit back and enjoy the mayhem and madness I cause, this time, I decided to provoke this rich discussion/organized mess via blogging. To clarify: I have set up a blog for my students where they each log in, post their reflections, and then comment on a peer’s post. (for an idea about how they look like, feel free to browse through the blogs of Section 3, Section 43, and Section 51 that I had set up for my students last semester; each for a different section)

The way it works is that every other week, I would upload a blog prompt up on Moodle and the students would receive credit for both writing the post and commenting on a friend’s post. It is worth mentioning that in the blog prompt I tend to ask numerous questions in order to make my blog topics intentionally broad so students are then able to narrow in and write about any specific subtopic they feel enthusiastic about reflecting on. That said, and in order to get them excited about this somewhat “mechanical” unit, I made one particular blog topic of theirs a little more controversial than usual. For this informal assignment, I wrote them the following prompt:

You don’t choose the family you are born into anymore than you choose the religion you were told you are supposed to follow. As a newborn baby, your experiences, beliefs, knowledge base, and even feelings are all entirely shaped primarily by your family. It is only once you grow up, and start being influenced by external sources (like society, university, etc.), that you start questioning your old beliefs, shaping some of your current beliefs, and formulating some entirely new beliefs altogether. Similarly, you didn’t choose your own genes and biological traits and characteristics. But neither did your parents.

On this note, Fukuyama (2003) writes: “As we discover not just correlations but actual molecular pathways between genes and traits like intelligence, aggression, sexual identity, criminality, alcoholism, and the like, it will inevitably occur to people that they can make use of this knowledge for particular social ends. This will play itself out as a series of ethical questions facing individual parents, and also as a political issue that may someday come to dominate politics. If wealthy parents suddenly have open to them the opportunity to increase the intelligence of their children as well as that of all their subsequent descendants, then we have the makings not just of a moral dilemma but of a full-scale class war” (p.562).

That said, there are too many interesting questions to consider here: What if you could modify your genetic make-up? Would you? Why or why not? What would you change about yourself? What would you leave unchanged? And if it’s too late for you to rearrange your own genes, would you end up carefully picking and choosing which genes to select for your unborn children? Why or why not? As usual, I don’t expect you to answer all of these questions. Just contemplate their implications for a few minutes, start writing, and see what you end up writing about.

Happy Blogging! ☺

The reason I decided to share this particular blog prompt of mine is because first of all, I had no idea how to answer my own questions myself. Thus, I felt that I owed it to my students to try and articulate my own views on the matter. Second of all, at around the time this blog post was due, the students had also been delivering/working on ongoing class presentations. The relation between these two ideas will be made clear shortly. Anyway, so one particular group, upon concluding their presentation, cropped a photo of mine and neatly placed it on top of this robot “body” underneath which they wrote “Predictions for the future of academia: The J-Robot”. Their amusing collage of my face, and play on the first initial of my name, immediately made me wonder about this same question they had been investigating themselves: and what IF a robot taught an English course instead of me? Who would be better? The robot or me? To answer this question, I revisited the questions I had asked in the blog prompt I included above: Would I change my genes? No. Why not? It’s not because I think I’m perfect – far from it, I flaunt my flaws! But rather I would not change anything about myself because although I’m aware I make mistakes, I like that I do so because sometimes, a lesson learned the hard way is a lesson that sticks. That said, like me, a robot could be programmed to develop coping and adapting skills so that it could learn and improve based on error patterns it observed and documented. Unlike me, however, a robot could have access to an infinite database of information and be able to answer any random question/concern a student may have. That said, to which side do we see the scale tipping over? My students seem to think that a combination of the human and the robot appears to be the perfect hybrid solution for a technologically advanced posthuman future. Then again, that leads me to the obvious question: what the hell do we mean by a humanoid anyway? And why should we assume that we must become half robot, lest our other half human attributes be rendered obsolete?

References

• Fukuyama, F. (2003). A tale of two dystopias from the book Our Posthuman Future. In R. Rantisi, L. R. Arnold, N. George, R. N. Hanna, N. Jarkas, J. Najjar & Z. S. Sinno (Eds.), After Words (pp.551-563). Beirut: Educart.

Let’s Freewrite about Freewriting

What is freewriting? It is simply private, nonstop writing. Freewriting is what you get when you remove most of the constraints involved in writing. Freewriting means: not showing your words to anyone (unless you later change your mind); not having to stay on one topic – that is, freely digressing; not thinking about spelling, grammar, and mechanics; not worrying about how good the writing is – even whether it makes sense or is understandable (even to oneself). ~ Peter Elbow

So here I am again. Panic-stricken of course. I can’t remember the last time I sat down to freewrite. I guess it was around 5-6years ago. Back then I had absolutely no restrictions. I just let my mind wander and enjoyed the ride as I observed where it drifted off to. Things are somehow different now. Actually a little introspection would prove interesting here: Is the writing I’m doing now that free in the first place? Sure I have a timer set, but I can’t make this freewriting personal because I plan to share it with the writing community at my university {and worldwide, with my blogging community as well}. Then again, why did my phrasing make that sound like such a problem? Wow, is the first thing that comes to my mind personal stuff? I sure hope not. In any case, whether or not this is a successful piece of freewriting {simply on account of the fact that it won’t be too personal} will be something I won’t be able to find out – not till I finish it anyway. So let me get to it then.

Ok. Distractions. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to enjoy reading and writing only if music played in the background. And by background I mean in my ears, via soundproof headphones, at maximum amplitude. {Yes I’m aware it’s not good for my ears, but it helps me concentrate}. This brings me back to the treasure/trash debate. For some, music – whether loud or not – breaks their concentration. I could never relate to that. For me at least, when the noises in my ears are louder than those of my surroundings, my surroundings completely cease to exist for an indeterminate amount of time. It is ephemeral. Nihilistic. But what is so wrong with a little bit of solipsism? With this undying world comprised of the laptop screen, the keyboard, your fingers, and most importantly, your mind, they become the only sentient beings in existence for this transient duration of time. There I go again. Slipping into the existential polemic. Always a bad habit to shake once your own mortality is something you constantly mull over. I wonder if that is considered personal. Probably not. I am an outspoken atheist. Everyone knows that. 

Damn it. Writer’s block already? Well, not writer’s block per se, but rather I don’t believe I have something to say once this sentence ends. Although, wow, staring at my screen, this is almost two sweet bulky paragraphs so far. I guess that means I haven’t lost my talent! Not yet anyway. Is talent something that can be gained or lost in that sense? I guess it depends if you consider it innate or acquired. Exactly like the homosexuality controversy. Biology. Evolution. Wups. There we go again. Let me get back on track. Is there even any track at all when you freewrite; i.e. by virtue of the fact that the very word itself is composed of an imperative verb followed by its descriptive adverb “write, freely”? {That sounded too much like what a linguist would say, which is strange, seeing as how my heart has always been into literature and never into linguistics}.

So I was telling my students the other day about my own writing process. I suppose that would be worth mentioning here. I wonder if this could be considered as a literacy narrative. Perhaps it could be, but only after a bit of “cleaning up” of ideas and structure takes place. {Though a freewritten literacy narrative sounds pretty postmodern and revolutionary to me}. Anyway, so my process. Yes. Okay so I was asking my students to tell me what they think about the drafting process and if they think it is useful or useless {I am always freakishly honest with my students}. Well, not just with my students. With everyone in my life in general. Ahh, there goes that personal bit again. It’s the hardest thing in the world to censor it, by the way. {I wonder if I’ll edit this sentence out when I revise this before publishing it on my blog. Is it even legal to revise a freewriting? Peter Elbow does it. I mean I guess it’s fine. As long as initial ideas are preserved and minor grammar/spelling mistakes are the only items revised. Okay so I suppose it’s still ethical and legitimate}. ANYWAY. Strike three! Here is my third attempt at trying to describe my writing process {or is it my second attempt?}. Ok, so for me, introductions and formatting burden me the most. If I am to write a formal/academic essay, if I simply have my sources ready, have my cover page and page of references formatted, and have my introduction finalized - complete with my research question and my thesis - then I’d consider most of my work almost over. What else? I always work with music. It helps me focus. It helps me block out my own thoughts. {I already talked about music, didn’t I?}. My point is, it renders my brain a tabula rasa oxymorically equipped with a kaleidoscoping vision primarily only directed towards the screen of my laptop. I don’t even look at the keyboard anymore. After doing this for so long, obviously I memorized where all the letters are, thus, my brain automatically tells my fingers which button to press for each particular letter. Hmm. There’s something to say about that. Have our laptops turned us into automatons? Although hand-writing essays works in a similar fashion doesn’t it? You don’t think about what you’re writing but still, the words do appear there, in ink, on your paper, somehow. Perhaps I should explore this matter a bit more next time. Now, I must go back to narrating my writing process. Ok. So let’s recap. First, music. Second, formatting. What else about my surroundings? Well, food isn’t terribly important for me. I can’t eat while I work. Actually, that is a distraction for me, especially if I have to grab something and then flip a page in the book or resume my typing. That’s just plain annoying. Tea is a must though. Not that I’m so British {not even close}. But something warm to drink relaxes my mind and also helps me focus. I’m a tea addict actually. I drink at least 4-5 cups of tea a day. {That’s personal too. Damn it}. Okay, time of day: Most definitely I prefer working at night, but if I have a deadline {like now, Ha!} then I would force myself to work in the morning as well. But, and although this may seem counter-intuitive to admit, I do believe my best work was always something I overnighted or woke up at 4am to brainstorm about. I told my students that’s bad. I don’t want them to lose sleep pulling all-nighters like I used to many times. Sleep is very important for one’s health. But then again, those crazy messed up ideas you come with at 3-4am in the morning...those are the maniacally magnificent ideas you don’t come by very often…

{I missed my alliterations}. Anyway, so when I opened up my book to do the referencing and citation for this blog, {like I said, I like to do the tedious parts of an assignment first}, I happened to stumble onto a paragraph that I had highlighted. I’ll copy it right now:

• Freewriting can give us little temporary visits into the place of “being a writer” in an interesting additional sense. It can give us little visits into a closet where, temporarily and with almost no penalties, we can allow our mind and our feelings complete free rein. This is a door into realms of intuition, insight, and intelligence that we can seldom tap in careful writing or in speech. In short, freewriting is a way to have little bite-sized bits of nonsublimation. And this is the region where we are smartest and most creative – and where our language is most alive. (Elbow, 2000, p. 27)

I wonder if you’re going to discredit my freewriting now because I paused to copy that quote. That said, even if you attempt to do so, I could easily counterargue your claim via two rock-solid defenses. First of all, I did not stop to search for this quote since this quote simply happened to be the first thing I noticed {I had highlighted it two weeks ago} once I opened up my book to extract some referencing/citation info {before I even set the timer to freewrite}. Second of all, my brain did not stop functioning. It never stops actually. {There we go again with the personal, damn it}. This is because while copying this quote, I was actually wondering if I should block-quote it or not, and also contemplating whether I should mention an intext citation for it or not because although this is an academic blog, this entire post is a freewrite {as you may have noticed, I ended up block-quoting and intext-citing anyway simply so I won’t feel too guilty about the formatting later on}. Funny isn’t it? I find contradictions and paradoxes absolutely fascinating. But again, that’s because they send my brain into overdrive and make me think. And thinking is just too much fun. {And, inversely, burdensome as well}.

I’ve been experimenting my freewriting teaching methods for almost 3 semesters now and I can honestly admit: I see it working. Strangely enough, most of my students confess that they hate drafting but enjoy freewriting immensely. Having so many rules, structures, and assignments to follow, abide by, and complete respectively, it is truly a breath of fresh air for students to allow their thoughts to osmose onto paper without having to screen them by a rigid handbook first. 

Indeed I’d be lying if I didn’t confess that I endorse freewriting for selfish reasons as well. I never impose it, but I do encourage it by giving extra credit for those students who are willing to go the extra mile and give freewriting a shot. My intentions, of course, are never honorable. For when I read my students’ freewritings, I enter into their minds, wear their thoughts, dance around them in front of their giant mirror that is their conscience, and see the world through their perspectives – at least for a little while. And then, a splash of water strikes my warm face: “and now that my 15min are up, I should wrap up this freewriting of mine, give it to Miss Jessy, and get ready for class”.

Almost all freewritings end the same way. I take a hint. I undress their thoughts and give it back to them, take my cue, and regretfully begin to exit keeping the door to their minds slightly ajar - a little more open than how I had initially found it. I always leave ruefully wishing those 15min didn’t have to end so fast and I curse the day Einstein couldn’t have done more with his space-time-dilation formula/equation.

At the end of the day, I realize: There are just no limits to what I can explore once I’m in their minds. Nonetheless, when it’s all over, there is nothing left to do but to dry my face from the cold splash, return to my own reality and my own mind-clothes, and walk out. Dearest students, couldn’t you have let me prance around in your minds for just a bit longer? 

Disclaimer: This freewriting of mine took me 49 minutes (minus the revision time). In case you’re wondering, there is no particular reason I aimed for 49 minutes. I actually didn’t know how long I should make this. I just figured I’d keep writing until I somehow ran out of things to say. Once I finished writing it, I only revised typos and spelling mistakes. No single sentence has been added or deleted since I wrote this freewriting. And more importantly, I had not brainstormed ahead of time for a specific structure or organizational plan. Every single sentence, idea, or thought jotted down here materialized in my mind at the exact moment I thought of it, and in the exact way, shape, or form you find it presented it here.

References

• Elbow, P. (2000). Freewriting and the problem of wheat and tares. In R. Rantisi, L. R. Arnold, N. George, R. N. Hanna, N. Jarkas, J. Najjar & Z. S. Sinno (Eds.), After Words (pp. 24-32). Beirut: Educart.