There are certain essential things that nobody ever teaches you. You just have to figure them out for yourself, because somehow the details are just too taboo to spell out.
Take academic writing, for instance. Yes, there is a plethora of information on how to write research papers. Yet somehow there is just nothing out there on how one goes from that intricate conceptual house of cards balanced on one’s little finger amidst the hurricane of daily life to a coherent academic text.
Perhaps this is because, when it comes to the proverbial crunch, writing is such a profoundly personal endeavour. Or perhaps it is because nobody dares to admit how much of this supposedly scientific process is, in the end, left to a feverish tango between a fickle, fickle muse and the unpredictable Duke of Hazard. The surrealist in me does not object to that fact. And the baker in me insists that the most important step in baking bread is turning away and leaving it to rise. Writing may be very similar.
All this is why today’s entry goes behind the curtain to expose the drafting process: frank and unadorned. Since writing is such a personal and lonely affair, I will not venture to call this the “right” way, (after all, there seems no evidence of any way whatsoever). But I do offer it as one route that can lead from the blank page to the printed manuscript. I will include my entire preparation process, current drafting procedure and remaining steps. The assignment is for a module that was taught in June, with a deadline on 30 November.
1. May: Preparatory reading and key concept summary of selected recommended textbooks, starting with the more general titles. Contact tutors for specific preparatory reading assignments, access and read.
2. June: Intensive summer school (2 weeks.) Daily review and assigned readings where viable and discussion with classmates. Receive assignment. After the summer school, review and file handouts and class notes. Remaining readings.
3. July: More specific readings gradually geared more to assignment. Two weeks of complete decadent rest.
4. August: Collect journal articles relevant to assignment. Categorize and read, making brief summaries of key concepts. Compile master bibliography of all resources, which can be taken away from rather than added to. (Bibliographies are the downfall of many a last-minute project: with foresight, that problem can be avoided.) Plot out a basic mindmap showing areas of interest.
5. September: Email rough outline with recommendations for tailoring to tutors. Complete final readings. (At this point I should interject: life goes to pieces in the throes of unwanted and impossible new job description, local religious customs and social meltdown. That’s the beauty of planning this process: even meltdown is not a catastrophe.) Transfer mindmap to a larger sheet of paper and expand with details and proposed word count. Pepper work area with post-its containing new discoveries and ideas. Stop at nothing.
6. October: Scan class notes again to ascertain tutors’ points of view. Re-examine assignment wording and ensure all aspects are addressed in proposed outline. Re-examine grading criteria and post in work area if possible, re-reading frequently. Transfer headings from outline to individual pages of an A4 notebook, including proposed word count for each section. SIT DOWN AT DESK AND BEGIN TO WRITE, LEAVING ALTERNATE LINES BLANK. Start with the easy bits and watch the magic happen. Mark uncertain references or facts in the margin with asterisks and keep writing. Take breaks as needed, getting away from the desk completely every few hours. Make time for the good life. When the text is complete, leave it for a day and celebrate. Return to the text, count the words and perform academic liposuction on the fluff. Make each word count with dense, rich meaning and eliminate what is not needed. Set up a formatted word processing document and transfer the edited text to computer. When complete, leave to sit. Return with a fresh mind and fresh eyes, editing where necessary. Double-check the word count. Ensure all footnotes, appendices and bibliography entries are complete. Leave to sit. Check again. Turn over to a trusted friend for proofreading. Check again.
7. November. Leave to sit. Check again. Print out final copy and hard copies and deliver to administrators by 7 November. If all else fails, there are three more weeks before the deadline. Celebrate and take a few days off. Begin preparatory reading for January module.
Perhaps not the most efficient of techniques, but it certainly covers most bases. By naming the steps and setting a time frame to them, the terrifying mysterious taboo is lifted. And that leaves us with academic writing: exposed.
Showing posts with label writing process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing process. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Comfort Zones and Discomfort Zones
I mentioned on Saturday that last week had felt like a year. This week zipped by, and we’re already on the banana peel that inevitably leads to the midterm exam, the grand collective panic (worse for teachers than students, contrary to popular belief) before the final exams, and then, boom, it will be summer again… Then again, all this is subjective. When I mentioned this to one colleague, she replied that this week, too, had seemed like a year to her. If only we had a year’s worth of time….
In most classes this week, I really felt on top of things, and was particularly pleased that the mountains of extra materials I was whipping out in class were well-received by students. Today, though, the new comfort zone became uncomfortable again.
My Foundation Writing students finally went from merrily nodding and enjoying the discussions of planning and outlining an essay to implementing it, and for some their clarity seemed to melt like a sno-cone in the spring sun. My heart was tempted to sink as my hours of preparation seemed to become insignificant. Instinct thankfully kicked in, and I was able to circulate among the desks to keep students on track, returning to the board to clarify any common errors. What does seem to be working well, though, is that this essay format makes it possible for each student to work to his or her level. They are writing about whether television is a force for good or bad, and while some are struggling to attempt even one body paragraph, others have planned up to three. One ambitious student has taken on both sides of the subject, claiming her right to work to her own abilities. That is a sign of great hope, since it’s the first time that I have worked so actively to provide for differential learning. (Ever, I humbly admit.) Another carrot dangling is that all the essays will be collected in their final draft form and published in a booklet to be displayed on the college’s open day. It will be interesting to see what impact actual publication will have on the writing quality.
The Language Through Arts students are keeping me on my toes as always. In their second session of the week, we looked at five different ways to use visual arts in their classrooms, and the discussion went down extremely well, with high participation levels. After the theoretical work, I set up a self-access activity for each medium, having discussed the relevance of self-access areas. It was striking that, although they knew all the theory about learner independence, they hadn’t connected it with the self-access concept, which makes up as much as half of learner independence literature and practice. Not only that, but they also lost direction, even though we had discussed potential pitfalls of self-access, and they had a concrete outcome for the session: to make a mini-project based on one of the styles to use in their short film. In today’s third and last group, four students actually asked if they could leave the class, since the “lecture” was over! (The time wasn’t by a long shot.) There are a few implications here that I need to consider.
First of all, in all three these groups of high-achieving students, there is a very high level of theoretical knowledge. The students are remarkably attentive while I speak, but when a student comments, asks or even answers a question, there is immediate side talk. This tells me that the “lecture” format is still what they consider to be the center of class work. Ironically, they have been studying learner-centered teaching methods since their second year, but have seldom actually applied them. The culture of peer learning during such activities has not been established, and I will have to recalibrate for that.
The second implication is from the theory of learner independence, or learner autonomy. As mentioned above, self-access is a prominent manifestation of this movement, perhaps because it is more concrete. Failure of the ambitious self-access programs is often due to the lack of foundational training in learner independence, and students’ inability to use them. In my class, however, it may have failed because students felt the “work” was done, even though I had given an explicit outcome. For many students, I had to return to their groups and be quite insistent on their creating a product for their films before they left, and today the product was the only valid exit pass!
The third implication is particularly significant for me in this course. Although this course is intended to give credibility to teaching and learning language through the arts, the students’ attitude towards the practical aspects are clear proof of the credibility problems the arts have. In all three groups, students take the theory seriously (even though I provide articles explicitly as formative ideas for their own reflective process), but as soon as “making things” begins, the class scatters and very few students are on task. It could be just me, but I think there is more going on here.
There does seem to be a lack of clarity about the film itself, and the way I will tackle this, along with the problems with practical work this week, is by starting off next week with re-clarified parameters for the film project. The practical work next week will center on week-by-week planning of the project on the calendars in the first handout. From there we will move to the language focus of the film, then planning of the media, and finally characters, setting, plot and themes. This time, planning will include a storyboard- and idea suggested by my colleague Mark, and spot-on for this course. In the next session, we will look at scriptwriting, so students can feel their work taking shape. Perhaps asking students to submit their planning is the only way to get things done. Should I modify my own conception of learner independence to acknowledge that learners do need guidance?
In most classes this week, I really felt on top of things, and was particularly pleased that the mountains of extra materials I was whipping out in class were well-received by students. Today, though, the new comfort zone became uncomfortable again.
My Foundation Writing students finally went from merrily nodding and enjoying the discussions of planning and outlining an essay to implementing it, and for some their clarity seemed to melt like a sno-cone in the spring sun. My heart was tempted to sink as my hours of preparation seemed to become insignificant. Instinct thankfully kicked in, and I was able to circulate among the desks to keep students on track, returning to the board to clarify any common errors. What does seem to be working well, though, is that this essay format makes it possible for each student to work to his or her level. They are writing about whether television is a force for good or bad, and while some are struggling to attempt even one body paragraph, others have planned up to three. One ambitious student has taken on both sides of the subject, claiming her right to work to her own abilities. That is a sign of great hope, since it’s the first time that I have worked so actively to provide for differential learning. (Ever, I humbly admit.) Another carrot dangling is that all the essays will be collected in their final draft form and published in a booklet to be displayed on the college’s open day. It will be interesting to see what impact actual publication will have on the writing quality.
The Language Through Arts students are keeping me on my toes as always. In their second session of the week, we looked at five different ways to use visual arts in their classrooms, and the discussion went down extremely well, with high participation levels. After the theoretical work, I set up a self-access activity for each medium, having discussed the relevance of self-access areas. It was striking that, although they knew all the theory about learner independence, they hadn’t connected it with the self-access concept, which makes up as much as half of learner independence literature and practice. Not only that, but they also lost direction, even though we had discussed potential pitfalls of self-access, and they had a concrete outcome for the session: to make a mini-project based on one of the styles to use in their short film. In today’s third and last group, four students actually asked if they could leave the class, since the “lecture” was over! (The time wasn’t by a long shot.) There are a few implications here that I need to consider.
First of all, in all three these groups of high-achieving students, there is a very high level of theoretical knowledge. The students are remarkably attentive while I speak, but when a student comments, asks or even answers a question, there is immediate side talk. This tells me that the “lecture” format is still what they consider to be the center of class work. Ironically, they have been studying learner-centered teaching methods since their second year, but have seldom actually applied them. The culture of peer learning during such activities has not been established, and I will have to recalibrate for that.
The second implication is from the theory of learner independence, or learner autonomy. As mentioned above, self-access is a prominent manifestation of this movement, perhaps because it is more concrete. Failure of the ambitious self-access programs is often due to the lack of foundational training in learner independence, and students’ inability to use them. In my class, however, it may have failed because students felt the “work” was done, even though I had given an explicit outcome. For many students, I had to return to their groups and be quite insistent on their creating a product for their films before they left, and today the product was the only valid exit pass!
The third implication is particularly significant for me in this course. Although this course is intended to give credibility to teaching and learning language through the arts, the students’ attitude towards the practical aspects are clear proof of the credibility problems the arts have. In all three groups, students take the theory seriously (even though I provide articles explicitly as formative ideas for their own reflective process), but as soon as “making things” begins, the class scatters and very few students are on task. It could be just me, but I think there is more going on here.
There does seem to be a lack of clarity about the film itself, and the way I will tackle this, along with the problems with practical work this week, is by starting off next week with re-clarified parameters for the film project. The practical work next week will center on week-by-week planning of the project on the calendars in the first handout. From there we will move to the language focus of the film, then planning of the media, and finally characters, setting, plot and themes. This time, planning will include a storyboard- and idea suggested by my colleague Mark, and spot-on for this course. In the next session, we will look at scriptwriting, so students can feel their work taking shape. Perhaps asking students to submit their planning is the only way to get things done. Should I modify my own conception of learner independence to acknowledge that learners do need guidance?
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