Well, I didn't see anybody's comments on the last article. I hope I have better luck
this time.
The present article talks about training for online tutoring. I think that's an area where we've been weak. A number of us have discussed the difficulty of avoiding editing during a half-hour online session.
The article also addresses the importance of being empathic online. I smiled at one
tutor's response: "I opened my e-mail and there were 303 emails. And how do I
think of emphathy and God knows what when I'm doing it. I just can't. I just
have to go straight to the point and tell them this or that." However, that same
tutor later wrote, "You don't have to increase the number of words you say to be
more emphathic, it's a question of the words you choose." Clearly, the lesson
had sunk in for her.
What a challenging job we have, from so many different fronts! Ideally, we want to see our student writers, whether face-to-face or online, transition "from being dependent on their tutor to working in more self-directed ways." Perhaps we need more formal, structured
training for online tutoring.What challenges do you find in online tutoring? What do you need to become a better online tutor?
Monday, March 19, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
"Toward Authentic Dialogue: Origins of the Fishbowl Method and Implications for Writing Center Work"
This article, by Kristen Garrison and Nicole Kraemer Munday, is focused mostly on the relationship between the Writing Center and the larger university. Although that doesn't directly concern tutors, I saw some germane points about talking, listening, and creating an open, egalitarian environment.
Obviously, almost all the work we do at the Writing Center is collaborative. I like to think we're mostly a friendly, informal group. On the other hand, we'd be kidding ourselves if we claimed that we don't have a hierarchical structure here. We do. Between the tutor and student, the tutor has more power; among the tutors and me, I have more power; between Ann Russell and me, Ann has more power. Hopefully, none of us is acting like a petty tyrant, but the reality is that the balance of power affects how open and authentic dialogue can be.
I enjoyed learning about the history of the Fishbowl Method. With no direction and leadership--as fishbowl groups in the late 1960s showed--the dialogue foundered. Even in an egalitarian situation, we apparently need a plan.
So how does this inform our work and our communication here? How do we create a "dynamic, energizing" dialogue that helps us reach the metacognition that Lewin observed in the participants of his study? How do we build our own "collaboratory" that will enable us to "focus on problem solving to achieve positive change"? I'm not asking you to develop definitive answers to these questions, but I'm interested in hearing your thoughts.
Obviously, almost all the work we do at the Writing Center is collaborative. I like to think we're mostly a friendly, informal group. On the other hand, we'd be kidding ourselves if we claimed that we don't have a hierarchical structure here. We do. Between the tutor and student, the tutor has more power; among the tutors and me, I have more power; between Ann Russell and me, Ann has more power. Hopefully, none of us is acting like a petty tyrant, but the reality is that the balance of power affects how open and authentic dialogue can be.
I enjoyed learning about the history of the Fishbowl Method. With no direction and leadership--as fishbowl groups in the late 1960s showed--the dialogue foundered. Even in an egalitarian situation, we apparently need a plan.
So how does this inform our work and our communication here? How do we create a "dynamic, energizing" dialogue that helps us reach the metacognition that Lewin observed in the participants of his study? How do we build our own "collaboratory" that will enable us to "focus on problem solving to achieve positive change"? I'm not asking you to develop definitive answers to these questions, but I'm interested in hearing your thoughts.
Monday, January 30, 2012
"Preparing for Emotional Sessions"
At least a few of us have dealt with criers--or students who are anxious, frustrated, or angry--and those tutoring sessions are never easy. This article, by Gayla Mills, gives us some pragmatic advice for dealing with very emotional students.
I agree with the author that giving students a few minutes to talk about what's bothering them may be the best option for getting them back on track. On the other hand, we need to acknowledge that we aren't therapists. When students have seemed deeply troubled, I have referred them to Madonna's counseling services (Amy Halstead, ext. 5766). I once had a student who seemed potentially suicidal, and I contacted MUBIT (Madonna University Behavioral Intervention Team) about him. -- I also like the author's suggestion that we offer the student the option of rescheduling.
When each tutoring session and student tutor is unique, how do we find the best balance? We're here to focus on writing, not emotional issues. Still, it would be inhumane to respond to a distraught student with a purely let's-get-down-to-business attitude. Yes, we want to address writing, but we're also called upon to offer some measure of comfort to another person's pain.
How have you dealt with emotional student writers?
I agree with the author that giving students a few minutes to talk about what's bothering them may be the best option for getting them back on track. On the other hand, we need to acknowledge that we aren't therapists. When students have seemed deeply troubled, I have referred them to Madonna's counseling services (Amy Halstead, ext. 5766). I once had a student who seemed potentially suicidal, and I contacted MUBIT (Madonna University Behavioral Intervention Team) about him. -- I also like the author's suggestion that we offer the student the option of rescheduling.
When each tutoring session and student tutor is unique, how do we find the best balance? We're here to focus on writing, not emotional issues. Still, it would be inhumane to respond to a distraught student with a purely let's-get-down-to-business attitude. Yes, we want to address writing, but we're also called upon to offer some measure of comfort to another person's pain.
How have you dealt with emotional student writers?
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
"Watch and Learn: Peer Evaluation and Tutoring Pedagogy"
Author Jane Van Slembrouck addresses a critical question: Do we learn more from our peers than from authority figures? We keep trying to ensure we're offering consistently high quality tutoring to our student writers, but we haven't yet tried peer observation yet. (Don't panic. If I do try this, it won't be until fall semester.)
I was struck by Slembrouck's comment, "Suspecting that at least some of this productive exchange disappears when the director comes calling, I wondered how I might reduce my role in the evaluation process and find a means of assessment that would take advantage of this nonhierarchical flow of ideas." The author seems to feel that--peer to peer--the flow of ideas is more of a rushing river than a trickling stream (not to torture the metaphor).
So, we're not talking about Writing Center Specialist-to-student tutor or Writing Center coordinator-to-student tutor. Do you believe it would be easier--perhaps less threatening--to learn from each other in this way? Would you feel less self-conscious?
I was struck by Slembrouck's comment, "Suspecting that at least some of this productive exchange disappears when the director comes calling, I wondered how I might reduce my role in the evaluation process and find a means of assessment that would take advantage of this nonhierarchical flow of ideas." The author seems to feel that--peer to peer--the flow of ideas is more of a rushing river than a trickling stream (not to torture the metaphor).
So, we're not talking about Writing Center Specialist-to-student tutor or Writing Center coordinator-to-student tutor. Do you believe it would be easier--perhaps less threatening--to learn from each other in this way? Would you feel less self-conscious?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
"It Was Just That I Was Afraid": Promoting Success by Addressing Students' Fear of Failure
I realize this article is torturously long, even by my standards. I promise to find a shorter one next time.
We know that writing anxiety is an equal-opportunity affliction for our students, but this article suggests racial and socioeconomic factors may influence strategies students use to cope with that fear. Although the research focuses mostly on Black and Latino students, I wonder if the author's findings also apply to any first-generation college student.
Sadly, these strategies--"postponing matriculation, scaling down, avoiding assessment, and redefining success"--often impede student success. They may allay fear and anxiety in the short run, but they keep the fearful student from completing her program.
We do see some of these strategies in the Writing Center, and not just from students of color. Vulnerable students may be reluctant to share their work because they're afraid of exposing their imagined inadequacies. They may drop out of school because they don't know how to navigate a system that's easier for middle-class, college-generation students. Humiliation is crushing for any one of us, and we all adapt strategies to avoid or minimize it.
So what can we do at the Writing Center to sidestep our students' defenses? What lessons can we take from the two beginning composition professors cited in this article? If we truly want to work toward an equal playing field (excuse the cliche), how do we adapt our approach to particularly high-risk students here?
We know that writing anxiety is an equal-opportunity affliction for our students, but this article suggests racial and socioeconomic factors may influence strategies students use to cope with that fear. Although the research focuses mostly on Black and Latino students, I wonder if the author's findings also apply to any first-generation college student.
Sadly, these strategies--"postponing matriculation, scaling down, avoiding assessment, and redefining success"--often impede student success. They may allay fear and anxiety in the short run, but they keep the fearful student from completing her program.
We do see some of these strategies in the Writing Center, and not just from students of color. Vulnerable students may be reluctant to share their work because they're afraid of exposing their imagined inadequacies. They may drop out of school because they don't know how to navigate a system that's easier for middle-class, college-generation students. Humiliation is crushing for any one of us, and we all adapt strategies to avoid or minimize it.
So what can we do at the Writing Center to sidestep our students' defenses? What lessons can we take from the two beginning composition professors cited in this article? If we truly want to work toward an equal playing field (excuse the cliche), how do we adapt our approach to particularly high-risk students here?
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
"Portrait of the Tutor as an Artist: Lessons No One Can Teach"
Author Steve Sherwood made some compelling points about tutoring as art. In fact, we teach tutors to be artisans, concerned mostly with "skill, rules, imitation, and service." We offer professional development workshops, checklists, articles, and occasional conferences to cement these lessons. Tutors need these lessons, and they're all we can offer, because we don't know how to teach "surprise, circumstance, improvisation, and flow."
The parallels to teaching writing are evident: We teach writers about thesis statements, topic sentences, organization, and support. We encourage writers to take risks, but we can't exactly tell them how. In some cases, we can model artistry--but just as jazz can't be successfully copied, neither can those inspired moments of writing and tutoring.
As I read the article, I was struck with the idea of letting go. Letting go is so hard to do, but we can't do our best work, we can't lose ourselves, until we do. So often, we feel we need to be in control, and to let go of that control is dangerous. But it can also lead to our most creative experiences.
Have you ever felt like an artist when tutoring? What led to this experience? Do you think there are ways to nurture artistry, even if we can't teach it directly?
The parallels to teaching writing are evident: We teach writers about thesis statements, topic sentences, organization, and support. We encourage writers to take risks, but we can't exactly tell them how. In some cases, we can model artistry--but just as jazz can't be successfully copied, neither can those inspired moments of writing and tutoring.
As I read the article, I was struck with the idea of letting go. Letting go is so hard to do, but we can't do our best work, we can't lose ourselves, until we do. So often, we feel we need to be in control, and to let go of that control is dangerous. But it can also lead to our most creative experiences.
Have you ever felt like an artist when tutoring? What led to this experience? Do you think there are ways to nurture artistry, even if we can't teach it directly?
Thursday, September 29, 2011
"Addressing Racial Diversity in a Writing Center: Stories and Lessons from Two Beginners"
There's no doubt about it: Transformation is a messy business, whether it's the transformation of learning, of enlightenment, or of giving up long-held and often unconscious assumptions. Transformation is recursive, unpredictable, and often leaves plenty of loose ends.
Transforming attitudes about race is messy, too. Race seems to be an especially uncomfortable topic here in southeast Michigan. Authors Nancy Barron and Nancy Grimm write about the discomfort they experienced (and caused) in their efforts to achieve "productive diversity."
The first point that struck me was how much we (as representatives of the university) may never know about the inner lives of our students of color, especially if we're white. As members of minority cultures, students of color learn very early how to code-switch: acting, speaking, and writing "white" when they're among the dominant culture, and expressing their most authentic selves only when they're in an environment where they feel safe and accepted. Not only is this an injustice to students of color, but it robs the academic community of a wealth of cultural perspectives and experiences. This reality makes us all poorer.
The second point that gave me pause was the fiction of color-blindness. We're not supposed to notice. In fact, if I was pointing out my black friend Bridgette to someone, and she was standing in a group of white women, I might say, "Yes, Bridgette is the tall woman wearing a red headband and carrying the briefcase." The most obvious distinction in this group is that Bridgette is the black woman, but to mention that somehow seems impolite or insensitive, not politically correct.
Third, I was moved by the story that Nancy Barron shared at the end of this long article. It's easy to write off people like the young man she described as "red-neck," "racist," "ignorant." And yet, at the end of this story, Barron sees in this young man some glimmer of transformation--surely incomplete and a little awkward--but present nonetheless. In some way Barron doesn't understand, it was important for this young man to let her know that he was growing. Like all growth, it was probably painful and messy and confusing for him. But it seemed he was willing to do it anyway.
The article feels like the start of a conversation, not a whole conversation in itself. Frankly, I don't know how we apply these ideas to the work we do here at the Writing Center. Yes, we do expect students to write "white" because that's what their professors--and, in the future, their employers--expect from them. But how can we make the Writing Center that safe and accepting environment for all students, including students of color, where each of us can become our most authentic self?
The authors write, "The work of maintaining the fragile balance [of productive diversity] happens in one relationship at a time." For now, perhaps that's our challenge here.
Transforming attitudes about race is messy, too. Race seems to be an especially uncomfortable topic here in southeast Michigan. Authors Nancy Barron and Nancy Grimm write about the discomfort they experienced (and caused) in their efforts to achieve "productive diversity."
The first point that struck me was how much we (as representatives of the university) may never know about the inner lives of our students of color, especially if we're white. As members of minority cultures, students of color learn very early how to code-switch: acting, speaking, and writing "white" when they're among the dominant culture, and expressing their most authentic selves only when they're in an environment where they feel safe and accepted. Not only is this an injustice to students of color, but it robs the academic community of a wealth of cultural perspectives and experiences. This reality makes us all poorer.
The second point that gave me pause was the fiction of color-blindness. We're not supposed to notice. In fact, if I was pointing out my black friend Bridgette to someone, and she was standing in a group of white women, I might say, "Yes, Bridgette is the tall woman wearing a red headband and carrying the briefcase." The most obvious distinction in this group is that Bridgette is the black woman, but to mention that somehow seems impolite or insensitive, not politically correct.
Third, I was moved by the story that Nancy Barron shared at the end of this long article. It's easy to write off people like the young man she described as "red-neck," "racist," "ignorant." And yet, at the end of this story, Barron sees in this young man some glimmer of transformation--surely incomplete and a little awkward--but present nonetheless. In some way Barron doesn't understand, it was important for this young man to let her know that he was growing. Like all growth, it was probably painful and messy and confusing for him. But it seemed he was willing to do it anyway.
The article feels like the start of a conversation, not a whole conversation in itself. Frankly, I don't know how we apply these ideas to the work we do here at the Writing Center. Yes, we do expect students to write "white" because that's what their professors--and, in the future, their employers--expect from them. But how can we make the Writing Center that safe and accepting environment for all students, including students of color, where each of us can become our most authentic self?
The authors write, "The work of maintaining the fragile balance [of productive diversity] happens in one relationship at a time." For now, perhaps that's our challenge here.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
"Tutoring Style, Tutoring Ethics: The Continuing Relevance of the Directive/Nondirective Instructional Debate"
After drilling the importance of minimialist tutoring into you, here's an article that throws it all into question. -- Isn't academic discourse supposed to be messy?
The author, Stephen J. Corbett, doesn't seem to be opposing nondirective (minimalist) tutoring so much as urging us to be flexible. As Susan and Marian and our other ESL tutors know, sometimes our ESL students need clear-cut, prescriptive suggestions. And as our more experienced tutors understand, we custom-tailor our approach to every new student to some degree.
Mostly, we're coaches, but sometimes we slip into being teachers, too, as we explain what comma splices are, how to repair fused sentences, why topic sentences are important. As long
as we're not dominating the tutoring session or doing the work for the student, I think that's okay.
In the late 1970s, I worked as a secretary for a group of psychoanalysts who were also trained to respond minimally as a way to get their patients to open up. One psychoanalyst was so unresponsive that he wouldn't offer a tissue to a patient who'd started to cry. -- I think we can be effective minimalist tutors and still offer our student writers a tissue (whether real or metaphorical).
However, I still think we need to be minimalist tutors as much as is reasonable. Maybe I'm projecting: I constantly have to fight my own impulse to "fix" student papers; it would be so easy. However, we want to move away from the idea that the Writing Center is a sort of body shop for student text. We're not here to do the work that students need to be doing.
What do you think? Can you share an example of when you've had to cross the minimalist-tutoring line because that was the best thing for your student?
The author, Stephen J. Corbett, doesn't seem to be opposing nondirective (minimalist) tutoring so much as urging us to be flexible. As Susan and Marian and our other ESL tutors know, sometimes our ESL students need clear-cut, prescriptive suggestions. And as our more experienced tutors understand, we custom-tailor our approach to every new student to some degree.
Mostly, we're coaches, but sometimes we slip into being teachers, too, as we explain what comma splices are, how to repair fused sentences, why topic sentences are important. As long
as we're not dominating the tutoring session or doing the work for the student, I think that's okay.
In the late 1970s, I worked as a secretary for a group of psychoanalysts who were also trained to respond minimally as a way to get their patients to open up. One psychoanalyst was so unresponsive that he wouldn't offer a tissue to a patient who'd started to cry. -- I think we can be effective minimalist tutors and still offer our student writers a tissue (whether real or metaphorical).
However, I still think we need to be minimalist tutors as much as is reasonable. Maybe I'm projecting: I constantly have to fight my own impulse to "fix" student papers; it would be so easy. However, we want to move away from the idea that the Writing Center is a sort of body shop for student text. We're not here to do the work that students need to be doing.
What do you think? Can you share an example of when you've had to cross the minimalist-tutoring line because that was the best thing for your student?
Monday, March 28, 2011
"Writing Center Tutors Have the Luxury to Focus on Individual Student Care Giving as Opposed to Formal Classroom Settings That Are Less Care Centered"
In our case, I think Renee A. Pistone, author of this article, is preaching to the choir. I believe our staff is especially caring, and we show it in a number of ways: asking about students' home life or their weekends, commiserating with their frustration over a particular assignment, and being sensitive to their vulnerability in the case of very basic writers. I liked Pistone's analogy of a midwife. Surely a writing project that can finally stand on its own can be compared to a brand-new life. It truly is a new life--for a new idea or an insightful new perspective. (It may be even better in that it doesn't involve any diaper changes or middle-of-the-night crying jags.) My only suggestion is that we keep pulling our conversations with students back to writing. Although we're caring and friendly, we are tutors--not therapists. The boundary between the two sometimes seems blurred, but it's a boundary we need to acknowledge. By putting friendship before tutoring, we're not really serving the student. That student may need our caring, but he or she also needs our expertise in writing. How do we recognize this boundary? How close is too close regarding our relationships with students? Or should this not be an issue? What do you think?
Monday, March 14, 2011
"Helping Writers Across the Curriculum"
This is a chapter from The Bedford Guide to Writing Tutors. It's really more of a reference than a heavy-duty scholarly piece. I like it, though, because it speaks to the importance of understanding one's audience and that audience's expectations. In fact, when working with students on their research essays, PowerPoints, resumes, etc., we could look over the appropriate checklist with the student.
I'm intrigued with the question of audience because so many writers appear to be oblivious to it. I'm not talking just about students--we see it in public spaces, too. For example, Gov. Walker states that he's complying with the wishes of Wisconsinites, completely ignoring the thousands of protestors at the capitol in Madison and all the negative media coverage.
I guess the deeper question is: Why? Do some writers/speakers just not think about who their reader (or listener) is, or do they just not care? Is it difficult for some of them to imagine any attitude different from their own?
What do you think?
I'm intrigued with the question of audience because so many writers appear to be oblivious to it. I'm not talking just about students--we see it in public spaces, too. For example, Gov. Walker states that he's complying with the wishes of Wisconsinites, completely ignoring the thousands of protestors at the capitol in Madison and all the negative media coverage.
I guess the deeper question is: Why? Do some writers/speakers just not think about who their reader (or listener) is, or do they just not care? Is it difficult for some of them to imagine any attitude different from their own?
What do you think?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
"Building an online writing center: Student tutors look to the past to construct a future"
Written by Karen Kalteissen and Heather Robinson and published in the April 2009 Writing Lab Newsletter, this article speaks to some of the concerns I've heard from you regarding our online tutoring. The main concern appears to be that it's too easy to become a proofreader online. I've also struggled with this.
Fatima Salemassi created this online system for us, and she emphasized the importance of requiring our online students to specify which aspect of their paper they wanted us to focus on. I believe that she did this to promote metacognition ("knowing about knowing") in our online writers. It's something comp professors do when they assign reflective letters with portfolios. The research reveals, again and again, that when writers think about their own writing, they become better writers.
We moved to live online tutoring because it reflects the Writing Center's philosophy of interaction with students. We don't want them to e-mail their drafts to us and passively wait for a response. Successful tutoring is a social activity, a back-and-forth, and we were missing that with our old system.
But live online tutoring has some drawbacks, too, as we're finding. We're a creative bunch--how can we address these drawbacks? This article seems to indicate that combining live tutoring and e-mail works best. What do you think about that? And how do we cope with those "uncomfortable silences"?
Fatima Salemassi created this online system for us, and she emphasized the importance of requiring our online students to specify which aspect of their paper they wanted us to focus on. I believe that she did this to promote metacognition ("knowing about knowing") in our online writers. It's something comp professors do when they assign reflective letters with portfolios. The research reveals, again and again, that when writers think about their own writing, they become better writers.
We moved to live online tutoring because it reflects the Writing Center's philosophy of interaction with students. We don't want them to e-mail their drafts to us and passively wait for a response. Successful tutoring is a social activity, a back-and-forth, and we were missing that with our old system.
But live online tutoring has some drawbacks, too, as we're finding. We're a creative bunch--how can we address these drawbacks? This article seems to indicate that combining live tutoring and e-mail works best. What do you think about that? And how do we cope with those "uncomfortable silences"?
Monday, January 31, 2011
"Responding to Texts: Provocative Revision"
Although this article, written by Toby Fulwiler, ostensibly focuses on Writing Center tutors, much of his advice seems to target instructors more. He does add a caveat on page 166: "Many professors who assign research projects will have a specific idea of what such reports should look like, and tutors need to be careful to counsel the student in those directions." I like many of his ideas, but I'm not sure we tutors want to take on as much authority as he seems to suggest.
Still, Fulwiler targets some of the areas that inexperienced writers often struggle with, specifically, "over-generalizations, prejudgment, and directional uncertainty." But that's what early drafts are for: to figure out the perimeters of a student's topic and to understand exactly what she wants to write. How does she know until she starts writing?
We've read other articles about writing-as-discovery, and that theme is repeated in Fulwiler's reference to the potato paper. Sometimes early drafts are simply exploration, that pre-writing that Ellen Harcourt likes to emphasize with her students.
However, many of our students convey the attitude of "Just tell me what to fix so I can be done with this assignment." The idea of using writing as a tool for thinking more deeply and imagining more broadly is difficult for some students to wrap their minds around. They're busy and they may have to be here and they may not want to be here. In some cases, they just want to be told what to do so they can do it and leave.
So how do we engage students in their own writing? How do we get them excited about the possibilities? How can we encourage them to recognize the importance of finding their own writer's voice? How did you all get excited about finding your voice? Was there a specific trigger or influential person who encouraged you?
Still, Fulwiler targets some of the areas that inexperienced writers often struggle with, specifically, "over-generalizations, prejudgment, and directional uncertainty." But that's what early drafts are for: to figure out the perimeters of a student's topic and to understand exactly what she wants to write. How does she know until she starts writing?
We've read other articles about writing-as-discovery, and that theme is repeated in Fulwiler's reference to the potato paper. Sometimes early drafts are simply exploration, that pre-writing that Ellen Harcourt likes to emphasize with her students.
However, many of our students convey the attitude of "Just tell me what to fix so I can be done with this assignment." The idea of using writing as a tool for thinking more deeply and imagining more broadly is difficult for some students to wrap their minds around. They're busy and they may have to be here and they may not want to be here. In some cases, they just want to be told what to do so they can do it and leave.
So how do we engage students in their own writing? How do we get them excited about the possibilities? How can we encourage them to recognize the importance of finding their own writer's voice? How did you all get excited about finding your voice? Was there a specific trigger or influential person who encouraged you?
Friday, January 14, 2011
"FAQs about Lab-based classes for WRT 1000/1150 Students"
Thanks to Marian for this clear and comprehensive question-and-answer handout for tutors, and another version for students. There's been a lot of confusion about the responsibilities of both tutors and our WRT 1000/1150 students, and these handouts give all of us a lot more clarity. Hopefully, when our students read their handout, they'll know--from the start--what's expected of them.
These lab-based classes are very unusual, and I believe that's why both students and tutors have struggled. We ask a lot from our student tutors in re to WRT 1000/1150: You're expected to provide some instruction as well as feedback. Please, when you feel uncertain or that you're in over your head, ask me or another, more experienced tutor for help. We're a collaborative bunch.
Those of you who have worked with lab-based students: What have you struggled with? What have you found particularly rewarding? What areas--if any--are still a little confusing? As you're probably aware, tutoring is a sloppy, recursive process, and most of us, to some degree, are tutoring "without a net." But that's what also keeps the job from getting dull or stale.
These lab-based classes are very unusual, and I believe that's why both students and tutors have struggled. We ask a lot from our student tutors in re to WRT 1000/1150: You're expected to provide some instruction as well as feedback. Please, when you feel uncertain or that you're in over your head, ask me or another, more experienced tutor for help. We're a collaborative bunch.
Those of you who have worked with lab-based students: What have you struggled with? What have you found particularly rewarding? What areas--if any--are still a little confusing? As you're probably aware, tutoring is a sloppy, recursive process, and most of us, to some degree, are tutoring "without a net." But that's what also keeps the job from getting dull or stale.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
"Thirty-something" Students: Concernign Transitions in the Writing Center
This article, by Cynthia Haynes-Burton, reflects much of our experience in the Madonna Writing Center. The ages of both our staff and our "customers" range from late teens to the 60s. Also like our students, some of us older staff members have experienced dramatic shifts--expected and unexpected--in our professional lives.
You younger tutors may not have had these experiences, but your parents, neighbors, or family friends may have. And we all face a measure of career uncertainty, no matter how old we are or whether we're a tutor or student writer.
To some degree, we can all empathize with our older students. We've seen how uncertain and fearful many of them are when they first come in. Some of our older students who've lost their jobs have also lost a large portion of their identities and self-confidence along with their income. They may have a greater sense of urgency about earning a living than about developing critical thinking skills.
A few of you younger tutors have expressed that, on occasion, older students seemed a little uncomfortable about working with you. Could you comment on that here? Did you modify your approach to put the student at ease? Do you think older students are more comfortable with older tutors? What are some of the unique challenges you've faced with older students?
You younger tutors may not have had these experiences, but your parents, neighbors, or family friends may have. And we all face a measure of career uncertainty, no matter how old we are or whether we're a tutor or student writer.
To some degree, we can all empathize with our older students. We've seen how uncertain and fearful many of them are when they first come in. Some of our older students who've lost their jobs have also lost a large portion of their identities and self-confidence along with their income. They may have a greater sense of urgency about earning a living than about developing critical thinking skills.
A few of you younger tutors have expressed that, on occasion, older students seemed a little uncomfortable about working with you. Could you comment on that here? Did you modify your approach to put the student at ease? Do you think older students are more comfortable with older tutors? What are some of the unique challenges you've faced with older students?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
"Learning Disabilities and the Writing Center"
This article, by Julie Neff, offers some concrete, specific examples about how to work with students who have learning disabilities. However, we don't know which students have them. I suppose when a student feels especially stuck, or can't seem to create ideas on her own, or struggles to organize her thoughts in some logical pattern, she might benefit from these tutoring strategies whether or not she has a documented learning disability.
Also, I was glad Neff wrote about the above-average intelligence of many students with learning disabilities. I consider this common knowledge, but on p. 240, she talks about the lingering misconceptions that some educators have about this population. No wonder people with learning disabilities often struggle with self-esteem issues!
It's odd: A person with diabetes would not likely be criticized for depending on medical insulin to stay alive. We don't make moral judgments on diabetics or urge them to "suck it up" or "pull themselves up by their bootstraps." Maybe learning disabilities are a little like diabetes: These students will probably do very well, but they may need additional support. Maybe the Writing Center is their educational insulin. (Yes, I know; I've completely exhausted this analogy.)
Neff's comments about unlocking the knowledge in student writers' minds intrigued me. To some extent, we all have to learn how we each learn best. Sometimes we do this unconsciously. For example, I realize that if I really want to absorb and synthesize new knowledge, I need some very concrete examples and I need to write about it. Passively listening just doesn't do it for me. Likewise, our students with learning disabilities need to find their own "key" so they can process information most effectively.
It seems that one implication of this (and the last) article is that we need to keep adapting our tutoring strategies to meet the needs of a complex and varied student population. Minimalist tutoring is a theoretical ideal, but certain students need more from us. How much is too much? That's a tough question, and I'm not sure I know the answer.
Also, I was glad Neff wrote about the above-average intelligence of many students with learning disabilities. I consider this common knowledge, but on p. 240, she talks about the lingering misconceptions that some educators have about this population. No wonder people with learning disabilities often struggle with self-esteem issues!
It's odd: A person with diabetes would not likely be criticized for depending on medical insulin to stay alive. We don't make moral judgments on diabetics or urge them to "suck it up" or "pull themselves up by their bootstraps." Maybe learning disabilities are a little like diabetes: These students will probably do very well, but they may need additional support. Maybe the Writing Center is their educational insulin. (Yes, I know; I've completely exhausted this analogy.)
Neff's comments about unlocking the knowledge in student writers' minds intrigued me. To some extent, we all have to learn how we each learn best. Sometimes we do this unconsciously. For example, I realize that if I really want to absorb and synthesize new knowledge, I need some very concrete examples and I need to write about it. Passively listening just doesn't do it for me. Likewise, our students with learning disabilities need to find their own "key" so they can process information most effectively.
It seems that one implication of this (and the last) article is that we need to keep adapting our tutoring strategies to meet the needs of a complex and varied student population. Minimalist tutoring is a theoretical ideal, but certain students need more from us. How much is too much? That's a tough question, and I'm not sure I know the answer.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
"Affirming Diversity"
This article, by Muriel Harris, addresses some of the ESL issues we've been talking about at the Writing Center. Some of us have long known that often, the tutors and ESL students may not have the same goals in mind. This isn't because ESL students are lazy (with a very few exceptions)--it's just that we may not have made the "rules" explicit.
The whole idea of collaborative learning, or learning through talking, is completely foreign to many of our ESL students. And when student writers expect us to become teachers, it's perilously easy to slide into that role. However, part of their educational experience here needs to be the way we learn, not just what we learn.
I've been thinking about something Diane Baumgartner said: Tutors don't need to have all the answers. We don't all have to be experts in linguistics and grammar. This is a good thing, since most of us are not. I agree with Diane that, once we accept that we don't have to be the authority, we can relax a little and enjoy the time we spend with our ESL students.
Finally, I was touched by some of the advice for tutors from the ESL students Harris surveyed: "Please try to understand problems faced by international students," "Be more patient," Try to enjoy getting to know different persons from different cultures," "Do not think of them as foreigners." Like us, ESL students just want to be accepted, respected, and liked. Like us, they don't want to be laughed at. On that very human level, we can all connect.
What do you think of this article? I know non-ESL tutors may feel uncomfortable working with ESL students. Can you explain why, or what we need to do to allay your fears? Could you be putting too much pressure on yourself?
The whole idea of collaborative learning, or learning through talking, is completely foreign to many of our ESL students. And when student writers expect us to become teachers, it's perilously easy to slide into that role. However, part of their educational experience here needs to be the way we learn, not just what we learn.
I've been thinking about something Diane Baumgartner said: Tutors don't need to have all the answers. We don't all have to be experts in linguistics and grammar. This is a good thing, since most of us are not. I agree with Diane that, once we accept that we don't have to be the authority, we can relax a little and enjoy the time we spend with our ESL students.
Finally, I was touched by some of the advice for tutors from the ESL students Harris surveyed: "Please try to understand problems faced by international students," "Be more patient," Try to enjoy getting to know different persons from different cultures," "Do not think of them as foreigners." Like us, ESL students just want to be accepted, respected, and liked. Like us, they don't want to be laughed at. On that very human level, we can all connect.
What do you think of this article? I know non-ESL tutors may feel uncomfortable working with ESL students. Can you explain why, or what we need to do to allay your fears? Could you be putting too much pressure on yourself?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
"Intellectual Tug-of-War: Snapshots of Life in the Center"
Reading this article made me very uncomfortable. After all, it questions the foundation of our Writing Center work, the very skills and attitudes we're trying to convey to our tutors. But then I went back to the line on page 123: "Pratt reminds us that too often we teach with the goal of eliminating confusion, opposition, and discomfort when our goal should be to delve more deeply into these issues." Then I decided that my confusion and discomfort may be a positive step toward greater understanding.
Here, we push some of the practices Boquet questions: relatively minimalist tutoring, endless data collection, an exhortation to tutors not to openly criticize professors. In the process, are those of us in administration indoctrinating tutors into our institutional ideology? And most importantly, to our student tutors: Do you often feel torn between your roles as peers (equals) and as tutors (authorities)?
At the end of this article, Boquet strives for a positive note: "We can strive to produce better writers, better tutors, more humane working conditions for everyone involved (tutors and students alike)." I believe in this goal, but her tone sounded forced to me.
Frankly, this article gives me a lot of food for thought, and I'm not sure how to respond right now. I've been doing Writing Center work for eight or nine years. We do struggle with any number of challenges, including our allegiances, political leanings, "cultural determinations." But for all that, I still believe that helping students find their voice is a worthy calling.
Here, we push some of the practices Boquet questions: relatively minimalist tutoring, endless data collection, an exhortation to tutors not to openly criticize professors. In the process, are those of us in administration indoctrinating tutors into our institutional ideology? And most importantly, to our student tutors: Do you often feel torn between your roles as peers (equals) and as tutors (authorities)?
At the end of this article, Boquet strives for a positive note: "We can strive to produce better writers, better tutors, more humane working conditions for everyone involved (tutors and students alike)." I believe in this goal, but her tone sounded forced to me.
Frankly, this article gives me a lot of food for thought, and I'm not sure how to respond right now. I've been doing Writing Center work for eight or nine years. We do struggle with any number of challenges, including our allegiances, political leanings, "cultural determinations." But for all that, I still believe that helping students find their voice is a worthy calling.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
"Writing IS Thinking"
I can't remember which of you found this article, but I think it's a good one, even though it targets faculty writers. Author Kerry Ann Rockquemore emphasizes what Ann Russell often tells us: That early drafts can be sloppy, disorganized, discombobmulated and all the other "dis-es." How many of you feel you have to complete all your research and thinking before you commit anything to the page? And of those who do, how many of you feel paralyzed to start?
Maybe those early drafts are like late-night, free-wheeling conversations, at the tail end of parties, that dart all over the place, unstructured and possibly incoherent but incredibly fertile and alternately hilarious and profound. Don't you wish you had some of those conversations down on the page? (Well...maybe not. They could be blackmail fodder for future generations.)
Besides being tutors and, in some cases, teachers, we're all writers, whether we're writing for class, for publication, for art, or for fun. And we all get stuck because we're not used to "thinking aloud" on the page.
Do any of you write a half hour to an hour a day? Does anyone want to take on the challenge (30 to 60 minutes daily, Monday through Friday)? We might feel we don't have time, but surely we could use the half-hour we typically spend watching Modern Family or half of Glee and put fingers to keyboard. Maybe we could try this for two weeks and figure out a few prizes for those who stick with it. Perhaps we'll come up with something we could submit to MU Voices.
What do you think?
Maybe those early drafts are like late-night, free-wheeling conversations, at the tail end of parties, that dart all over the place, unstructured and possibly incoherent but incredibly fertile and alternately hilarious and profound. Don't you wish you had some of those conversations down on the page? (Well...maybe not. They could be blackmail fodder for future generations.)
Besides being tutors and, in some cases, teachers, we're all writers, whether we're writing for class, for publication, for art, or for fun. And we all get stuck because we're not used to "thinking aloud" on the page.
Do any of you write a half hour to an hour a day? Does anyone want to take on the challenge (30 to 60 minutes daily, Monday through Friday)? We might feel we don't have time, but surely we could use the half-hour we typically spend watching Modern Family or half of Glee and put fingers to keyboard. Maybe we could try this for two weeks and figure out a few prizes for those who stick with it. Perhaps we'll come up with something we could submit to MU Voices.
What do you think?
Monday, September 13, 2010
"A New Generation?"
J.J. Berry (author of this article and OCC Dean of Academic and Student Services) is targeting my generation while talking about the "iYs" generation--the generation many of you belong to. I think he's right on target as far as the technological changes. The college generation today has far more distractions than we ever did.
Berry suggests that many young students today have more fluidity/flexibility and tolerance; on the other hand, attention span and depth are in short supply. For example, some "iYs" have thousands of "friends" through Facebook, but may lack face-to-face, committed relationships.
He also argues that, although our worlds may seem very different, academia has something important to share with the "iYs": self-discipline, intellectual substance and rigor, the importance of understanding context, etc. (I may be projecting here.)
What do you think about this? Are J.J. Berry's reflections accurate or not? Do you "iYs" need the challenge and demands the academic world places on you? Is the academic world still relevant, or are we lagging far behind a changing world? Or is the reality more nuanced than that?
I'll be interested in reading your thoughts about this.
Berry suggests that many young students today have more fluidity/flexibility and tolerance; on the other hand, attention span and depth are in short supply. For example, some "iYs" have thousands of "friends" through Facebook, but may lack face-to-face, committed relationships.
He also argues that, although our worlds may seem very different, academia has something important to share with the "iYs": self-discipline, intellectual substance and rigor, the importance of understanding context, etc. (I may be projecting here.)
What do you think about this? Are J.J. Berry's reflections accurate or not? Do you "iYs" need the challenge and demands the academic world places on you? Is the academic world still relevant, or are we lagging far behind a changing world? Or is the reality more nuanced than that?
I'll be interested in reading your thoughts about this.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
"The Peer Writing Tutor Alumni Research Project"
When we were at the College of Composition and Communications Conference (4Cs) in Louisville, KY, last week, Harvey Kail (author of this article) was part of a panel presentation on this project. The presenters talked about a research kit online that schools can adapt for their own use.
After going to that session and reading the article, I realized that, although we solicit feedback from our student writers every semester, it never occurred to me to ask tutors to fill out evaluations. And we could certainly use your input. I hope we're providing the training (sometimes on-the-run), support, and flexibility you need, but is the Writing Center making a difference on a larger scale?
Kail reported very positive results from his surveys, but it did raise a question for me. Do students most interested in writing center work start out with a willingness to work collaboratively, read critically, become a better listener, and join the larger academic community? Those skills may well have been honed to some degree, but do Writing Center tutors already come to the job with those aptitudes?
Whether you're a peer or ESL tutor, what influence does working here have on you academically, professionally, and interpersonally? Has your experience here affected your choice of career? What impact has it had on your sense of yourself as a writer?
After I attended the session I mentioned, I thought about setting up a Facebook page so past and former tutors could keep track of each other as often or as rarely as they want. What do you think?
After going to that session and reading the article, I realized that, although we solicit feedback from our student writers every semester, it never occurred to me to ask tutors to fill out evaluations. And we could certainly use your input. I hope we're providing the training (sometimes on-the-run), support, and flexibility you need, but is the Writing Center making a difference on a larger scale?
Kail reported very positive results from his surveys, but it did raise a question for me. Do students most interested in writing center work start out with a willingness to work collaboratively, read critically, become a better listener, and join the larger academic community? Those skills may well have been honed to some degree, but do Writing Center tutors already come to the job with those aptitudes?
Whether you're a peer or ESL tutor, what influence does working here have on you academically, professionally, and interpersonally? Has your experience here affected your choice of career? What impact has it had on your sense of yourself as a writer?
After I attended the session I mentioned, I thought about setting up a Facebook page so past and former tutors could keep track of each other as often or as rarely as they want. What do you think?
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