learning styles

Last night Jon was saying that my thesis draws a line from students' style (as in fashion, etc.) and their learning styles. For example, one kid, a Muslim girl who wears a hijab, works within bent versions of the teacher's rules and academic expectations just like she works creatively around her hijab to achieve the look of "popularity" (read: in part, whiteness).

I usually hate when people talk about "learning styles" as if that's why meaningful academic opportunities are scarce in the hood. Because when people say "learning styles," they're talking about, "I'm a visual learner," or "I'm an audio learner." And sure, it's smart for teachers to present materials that students can access through multiple modalities -- if only because lesson planning in that way makes it less likely that they stand at the front of the room and drone on for fifty boring-ass minutes.

But Jonathan was talking about "learning styles" in terms of students' particular orientation to authority and knowledge. Students' orientation to authority and knowledge informs their identities; if your sense of yourself is that you're cool/bad, then the literacy practices you're more inclined to pick up are those associated with coolness/badness. Graffiti, rap, sagging your pants, etc. If, as was the case for me, you are a little fearful of displeasing authority figures, you're more likely to assent to the literacy practices imposed on you by the authority figure, regardless of whether or not the authority figure is legitimately authoritative.

What if we gave pre-service and in-service teachers lots of practice discovering students' orientation to power and knowledge -- practice reading the clothing, handwriting. body language, and tons of other ways that we perform our identities? What if more of us were capable of designing learning experiences that draw on the identities (and associated performances and literacy practices) of the students we traditionally fail, those students who resist authority? It's totally possible.

my students on the five-paragraph essay:

They had to read an article ("Developing 'Real-World Intelligence': Teaching Argumentative Writing through Debate" by Randi Dickson) about argumentation and debate in the classroom and the role (or lack thereof) of formulaic writing in argumentation and debate.

Most of the article argues that debating in classrooms prepares students to be active members of a participatory democracy. She suggests that while requiring a strict interpretation of the five-paragraph format might traditionally be thought of as the best way to teach students to write, she has found that it actually limits learning, especially within the context of argument. Instead, she suggests not getting rid of writing "templates" all-together, but rather giving them several to choose from and adapt.

My students had to answer several questions about the article so that I could check their comprehension of it. One of the questions asked, "How does Dickson suggest that writing instructors avoid such formulaic assignments? Do you agree or disagree with her approach? Why?"

Here's what some of them had to say:

"A five-paragraph essay isn't flexible and there is no room to expand it. You are stuck to a guideline that can't be broken."

"I agree with her approach because it gives a student writer more options and opportunities to make it the best and als their own; thus making it more motivational to do the assignment."

"you never know wat the other people are going to say so she thinks it shouldn't be formulaic cuz wat if the other team has something that's not in ur formula your screwed."

"I don't agree because you have to be on track."

"I agree because a student should not be limited to just five paragraph essays which restrict a student's creativity and potential."

"This is smart because it gives a lot of freedom without total lack of 'rules.' Needs flexibility but structure (a backbone)."

"I agree with her approach because they don't leave enough room for choice. There shouldn't be a 'right' way to write an essay."

"I kind of agree with this because other students might not always need the basics, so what's left for them?"

Coincidentally, we just had this discussion at a recent department meeting -- not necessarily about writing just for argument and debate. It seemed like most of my colleagues are in the five-paragraph-yay camp, which kind of stunk for those of us in the five-paragraph-nay camp.

Anyway, I think this stuff's super-interesting.

Come on! How about a little student/teacher trust, mother F-ers?

I overheard two teachers talking, the other day, about this "great" new(-ish) website, turnitin.com. Ya have students upload their papers to the site, and it checks them for plagiarism. "Our school has a reputation to uphold," one of said teachers added.

Hhhhhhh... Forgive me, but turnitin.com is not great.

Writing is hard. It would be convenient if writing could be made easy with step-one-step-two-step-three, but it can't. And students, if they are to become ("better") writers, need to struggle with the messy process that writing is. They need to write A LOT. They need teachers who support them in that struggle with constructive feedback and creative assignments that invite them to write every which way, in all kinds of contexts, with all kinds of purposes, real audiences, etc. They need to feel welcome to take risks as writers (and as thinkers, readers, speakers, web-designers). Writing, being creative, that shit is scary. it's intimidating. A good writing teacher will help students feel confident, not suspect. A good writing teacher will help students to engage, to feel as though they have a stake in good writing. A good writing teacher, will roll up her/his sleeves and get so involved in the writing process with the students that s/he would know each student's writing process and style well enough to render turnitin.com useless.

told me to tell you

When I was in second or third grade, my best friend and I, charged with a duty to fundraise for our school and motivated by the chance to win a frantic minute in the flying money box, set out one afternoon to sell some World's Finest Cholocate. For whatever reason, we decided that her block would be better than mine, tragically unaware that the lack of foresight that we demonstrated in not coming up with a thorough plan for the distribution of our labor was about to cause catastrophe.

One of her neighbor's bought three chocolate bars from me; that is, six dollars into my manilla envelope, and not hers. And she was pissed. An argument over who had the right to sell candy to that particular neighbor ensued, escalated, and culminated in my hair getting pulled. (I'm going somewhere with this, by the way.) This is the way that I remember the incident, although I'm sure she recalls it differently.

Anyway, I ended up running home crying, and darting down to my parents' office in the basement to relate my tale of woe to my mom. I can't remember her advice, but it must have been sufficient for helping me to move on; because, I was making my way back upstairs to my room when I passed the back door and happened to engage in what was to be one of the most poignant scenes of my life. My friend stood there, her cheeks stained with tears. "MY MOM SAID TO TELL YOU I'M SORRY!" she said, in a kind of heavy-metal sing-song. "FINE!" I responded. And it actually did end up being fine, much to both of our relief.

Yesterday I had the honor of attending an awards banquet put on by the College of Education for the purpose of recognizing outstanding scholars and giving them a chance to thank their scholarship sponsors. I was seated at a table with my parents and two of my brothers, a classmate, her father, and the grandson of the sponsor of a scholarship I was given.

Throughout brunch, my sponsor's grandson told me about his grandmother and her commitment to education. She sounds like a really interesting and admirable woman, and so when it was time for me to accept my scholarship and say a word of thanks, I was sincere in my gratitude for being awarded in her name.

After pictures with the Dean, I went back to my table and handed the folder with the certificate in it to my mom so that she could have a look. Amused, she handed it back to me, calling my attention to the flyer inside that reads in CAPS locked, bolded italics, "PLEASE MAKE SURE TO HAND WRITE YOUR NOTE TO YOUR DONOR" It goes on:

SAMPLE:
Dear Dr./Mr. or Mrs. Donor:

1st paragraph

• tell why you are writing
• refer to scholarship by its name

2nd paragraph

• talk about where you are from, year of study & your major/focus
• you may want to reveal why you chose to attend UIUC
• point out your accomplishments, professional affiliations or oranizational involvement

3rd paragraph

• close by sharing your goals & future plans
• be sure to thank the donor for their generosity in providing this scholarship and tell the donor how their support has made a difference

Thank the donor again.

Sincerely,
Your name

Give me a freaking break; this is hilarious. Recalling the World's Finest adventure, I've got this image of myself standing slouched at this woman's back door, apathetically mumbling, "The College of Ed told me to tell you I'm grateful."