My Philosophy of Teaching Writing

In one of my classes, when I needed a sample of my students' writing at the beginning of the year, I'd give them this statement: “The ability to write well is the most important skill for a person to have in order to succeed,” and have them either agree or disagree with it. I chose this statement because it was one that I originally agreed with wholeheartedly. However, in light of all that I have learned in pursuing my ESL degree, I have decided to amend it to read, “the ability to communicate well is the most important skill for a person to have in order to succeed.” I think that this new statement reflects an important truth that is all too often overlooked: that writing is a means to an end, and that “writing well,” should reflect this, and not be an end unto itself.

First hand experience has shaped my philosophy of teaching writing, crystallizing it into series of practical applications which have worked for me throughout my teaching career. However, because teachers should also be learners, I find it useful to study current research on teaching writing, looking for new ideas which should complement or even supersede my own.

It has long been a maxim of mine (one of my infamous “Laws of Literature” I plague my students with) that the best writers are the best readers. But this means more than simply being voracious readers and copying good technique on a “monkey see, monkey do,” basis. To be a good reader or a good writer, I believe that the most important skill one should have is a sense of organization. In writing, this means the ability to take a broad concept, break it down into smaller or supporting ideas, and present it in a manner that is easy to understand. I have stressed above all other things in my composition classes the pattern of introduction(thesis)/body/conclusion, explaining to my students that if they can at least mentally organize what they wish to say into a main idea, a list of details which support the main idea, and a way to wrap the whole thing up at the end, then the most difficult part of writing is all but done for them – the rest is simply a matter of making good writing better.

As readers, being aware of this fundamental pattern aids comprehension – after all, an author wants their work to be understood. And while fiction follows a different pattern than nonfiction, the important thing is that a pattern exists. Another of my Laws of Literature is that good readers should become skilled at spotting patterns.

The reading/writing connection cannot be stressed enough in the current research. “In reading, students create meaning from a given text. In writing, students generate texts in order to make meaning. . . Using similar thought processes as they read and write, students prepare themselves to read by drawing on their background experiences to create meaning; likewise, they prepare themselves to write by drawing on their background experiences to generate meaning” (Moore-Hart, 2010).

Good writers also need to be good critical thinkers, especially when it comes to what to include in their writing. Again, I've found that a foundation in organization helps students be more discerning. Having a thesis and knowing exactly what an essay is supposed to support helps students separate the essential from the trivial. I've done exercises with students where I'll put a topic on the board and ask students to come up with a thesis statement, and then have them discuss possible approaches to writing an essay. “Remember the thesis,” I remind them, “no matter how interesting your idea is, if it doesn't support the thesis, you don't need it... at least, not for this essay. Save it for another time.” Some students find it difficult at first; they don't like having to abandon a good point or a well-expressed idea, but again, writing is not done for its own sake; it's a means to communicate, and for the message to get through clearly, it needs to be organized.

In responding to student writing, I believe it is important to balance support and encouragement with constructive criticism. In my interactions with students, I always make an effort to point out or accentuate something positive about the student's writing first when talking to them directly, and in some conspicuous way when making written comments. The reason for this is simple: writing, especially for ELL students, can be a daunting and frustrating task. Without encouragement, students will shut down.

In my first years of teaching, my students noticed a pattern quickly. I would begin with some praise for their work, and they would interject with the “but...” that they knew was coming. Even though they did it in jest, it caused me to reevaluate the very language I used when discussing students' work, and the corresponding attitude that went alongside it. I realized that “such-and-such is good, but you need to remember to...”, still drew attention to a student's flaws. The attitude I wanted to convey, one which would help students become more comfortable and confident with their writing, had to be more along the line of, “this is good; here's how you can make it better...” The word “but” may seem like a minor detail, but I found that eliminating it from my responses to students' papers made a difference: perhaps it was that they listened to me with a little less dread, because they were no longer waiting to hear about their mistakes, but about ideas they could use.

On a side note, while I do believe in providing encouragement, I do believe that it can be taken too far. In an article from the Telegraph, school districts in the United Kingdom and Australia had actually banned the use of red ink for marking papers, because, as one administrator put it, “Red pen can be quite de-motivating for children. . .It has negative, old school connotations of 'See me' and 'Not good enough'.” As much as I can appreciate concern for students' well-being, I'm just old-school enough to draw the line here – in bright red ink.

What bothers me about such overly politically correct “solutions” is that the assume that encouragement (as well as discouragement) comes to students primarily from evaluation, when the research shows that every aspect of the writing process needs to be carefully thought out in order to provide the most encouragement for students. In particular, the research shows that students must be made aware that not only are they all potentially talented writers, but that they all have something worth writing about. I encourage my students in make connections between the topic of their essays and their own opinions, experiences, etc. Not only did this enhance the quality of their writing (I was getting bored reading the same summaries of the same story 25 times), but it also motivated them to write more, as they were no longer cornered into writing only about a story or poem that they may or may not have grasped, but about themselves. People, as a general rule, know and are interested in themselves, and giving them an outlet for self expression means we can “tap the human urge to write If we help students realize that their lives are worth writing about, and if we help them choose their topics, their genres, and their audience” (Calkins, 1994).

I've only recently began teaching ESL students, but I think my experience in teaching World Literature has already given me enough of an appreciation of other cultures that I've developed what Birch (2004) described as an ecological, as opposed to a colonial/imperialistic ideology. Every culture, and every language that comes from it, has a meaningful contribution to make to society as a whole. Language is not a hierarchy, with any one being better or worse than any other.

Birch recognizes the existence and prevalence of language prejudice in society, and I have had class discussions on the matter: “Like it or not,” I say, “you are going to be judged by the way you speak and write.” People expect a certain type of language in a certain situation, and in a classroom situation, that type is academic English. In my first years, I taught in a predominantly urban high school, with students who were self-described as “ghetto.” During one class discussion, a students used a colloquialism, and then stopped and corrected herself, apologizing for “not speaking proper.” I told her that there was nothing to apologize for. “You didn't say anything wrong; that's only a mistake if you put it in an essay.” By the time they reach high school, most students already have an understanding of what academic English is, and mine were delighted at my belief that it was not inherently better than their own speech, just a tool that needed to be used in certain situations. I actually preferred hearing students not using Academic English in class discussions – it's a sure sign that they've understood the material when they can describe it in their own terms.

Because I believe in writing as a means to an end, and not an end in itself, I find myself more lenient in matters of evaluation than some of more veteran colleagues. As much as I've tried to force myself to be more stringent, I have found that many students pick up organization quickly, which I consider to be paramount, but struggle with the mechanics – grammar, spelling, vocabulary, transitions, etc. Their message was clear and concise, but the means with which they expressed it were lacking. It's difficult for a teacher to be able to attach appropriate weight to all the essential functions of writing without a rubric, and writing one can be as daunting for a teacher as the actual essay is for the student. I've gone through several, both homemade and borrowed from other educators, until I found one that works for me at the grade level I traditionally teach. It has seven categories, four of which deal with organization and expression, three of which cover the mechanics. It has helped me grade fairly without overlooking any necessary skills that students need to develop.

At least the research backs up one suspicion I've had for a long time: separate drills and lessons are not an effective tool for teaching grammar. Weaver (1996) said as much in her study on grammar instruction. “Little research on the teaching of mechanics has been done, but the available evidence does not offer much reason to be optimistic about teaching grammar as an aid to avoiding or correcting errors” supports what has become almost intuitive in education today: lessons without context, without real-world applications, lack meaning. There is no call to drill students on the functions of a gerund or a participle phrase without a chance for the student to actually apply it in their own writing. Without an immediate use for the grammar instruction, the lessons are abstract, nearly impossible to apply, and often the first to be forgotten.

I still believe that the ability to communicate well is the most important skill a person needs in order to succeed. I further believe that as teachers, we have an obligation to guide our students to that success. As one who has spent many an evening hunched over a stack of essays, red pen in hand, I know from experience the drudgery involved. Imagine how it feels from the other end, being the one who has to write essay after essay for professor after professor! Students must be encouraged to persevere, knowing that self-expression is well worth the effort. They must know that they have ideas that are worth sharing, that their thoughts, feelings, and opinions help, not hinder, the writing process, and that the teacher is there to support, not to accuse. All told, it's a tall order. But as teachers, we know what the rewards are, and know the importance of finding the most effective ways to guide our students – in writing, and in everything else.

References

Birch, B. (2004). Learning and Teaching English Grammar K-12. New York: Prentice Hall.

Calkins, L. (1994). The Art of Teaching Writing. Portsmouth: Heinemann.

Marking in Red Ink Banned in Case it Upsets Schoolchildren (2008, Dec. 26). The Telegraph. Retrieved from http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/educationnews/3964683/Marking-in-red-ink-banned-in-case-it-upsets-schoolchildren.html

Moore-Hart, M. (2010). Teaching Writing in Diverse Classrooms K-8. Boston: Pearson.

Weaver, C. (1996). Teaching Grammar in Context. Portsmouth: Heinemann.