The Collaboration

As planned, I talked to the students in today's class about the paper process. I had to get them past some complaining about the grades being "unfair," but I explained why their revisions didn't necessarily get a higher grade, rather than confronting--or even trying to defuse--their upset. In fact, I made a point of saying that I understood their frustration, not only because what I'm asking is hard but also because clearly there had been a break down in communication about how I intended the system to work.

The conversation was enlightening. Apparently, I need to do more to emphasize that I am, in effect, evaluating the final version as demonstrating a completely different skill set than the first one. I hate to say it, but this may be one of those times when the use of edu-speak may be beneficial. If I clearly delineate the "goal" and "outcome" of each part of the assignment, that may help students understand that they're learning more than one thing.

Their suggestions about what might help them were good, too. They asked for an example of a student paper that showed improvement in revision--and fortunately, I think I have just such an example. I came very close to tossing the examples last week: this is one of those instances when Fate intervenes. Years ago, for a departmental colloquium on teaching revision, I'd gathered examples of papers in first version and revision, some good, some terrible. I photocopied many more than I needed for the colloquium, and for some reason (the term "pack rat" springs to mind), I've held on to them. All I have to do is look through to find an example showing improvement across the two submissions, make enough copies, and Bob's your uncle. (I love that expression. I just spent a minute doing a down and dirty Google search about it, and the third hit seems to have the best explanation of how the expression arose: http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/bobs-your-uncle.html)

Returning, however, to the actual pedagogical issue at hand, the other suggestion from the students of what could help them was a request for a sample of an A paper. I've had a example for a long while--since I was at La Guardia, in fact--but I need to re-evaluate it to be sure I still am happy with it. If not, I could ask the one student this semester (so far) who wrote an A paper if he'd be willing to submit his--or I might cheat a little and rework the sample I have. (For instance, I was more forgiving in the old days about students beginning with big generalizations, and if I remember the introductory paragraph correctly, it starts precisely in that manner. That would need to be tinkered with so it doesn't confuse my students now.)

Ultimately, they decided, rightly, that they need most time getting from version two to their final papers. That is where things broke down--and its where there is the most grade weight. The breakdown occurred because (as we determined) they do not understand what to do to effectively address my comments. They want to; they thought they were, in fact--and then when they saw my comments on their final papers, they realized their attempts fell short. My end of the process is still going to be high stress (happy birthday, Tonia): I've promised to get them feedback on their first versions by the end of the week. Even if I keep my comments to a minimum, that's a big ouch for me--but then they can work to address my comments over the weekend, and can bring those changes to class, so I can help them see if the changes do what is needed. The in-class part of the process will be a little unwieldy, but it's the only way I can think to help them with that task. So the schedule has been adjusted to give them an extra few days when they need it most.

I warned them that this schedule change means they'll have a big chunk of reading to do over that following weekend: we'll start reading the novel in class, but they'll have to get through the first seven chapters between Wednesday and Monday. (I really want them to get to chapter 7, even though it's a lot of pages, because there is crucial information that is clarified at that point.) They may not realize what they're getting into--most students find the book a lot harder than anything they've experienced--but their primary concern is doing better on those papers. And they're right: that's the priority right now. We can make sense of the novel later.

I also told them that, because of the confusions and problems, whatever their best grade was in that first paper process--whether it was on version 1, 2, or 3--they'd get the same grade for all three versions. It's a one-time only offer, but I saw faces and bodies relax significantly when I told them I'd do that. The decision may come back to bite me--it may hyper-inflate some grades--but I don't think so. I think their next papers, reading journals, and final papers will normalize the curve for each of them. I hope anyway.

There were 15 in class today, and I think that's pretty much who's left at this point. One of today's absentees may return, but probably not the other, and there was one withdrawal today. My main objective at this point is to help those 15 feel like they're actually making progress, instead of being engaged in an exercise in futility. I was blaming them for that (witness my snarky comments about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results), but I truly forget that they do the same thing over and over because they honestly do not know what else to do. They need to learn how to do something different, and they have no models yet for what that looks like.

Speaking of models, I did have them outline the critical essays they'd read for today: each group worked on one essay. Then we talked about what they learned from the process. One thing they stated--I thought I'd have to drag it out of them, but it was the first comment--is that they could see the logic of the critic's argument much more clearly when they outlined it. I told them--and reiterated--that this is what I want them to do with their own "after-the-fact" outlines of their papers, and for the same reason. The outline process helps them approach their work objectively and will reveal places where the point of proof in a paragraph is unclear, or where the logical order needs work. The other thing they noticed is that they understood the critic's argument more clearly overall--so I pointed out that this is a technique they can use to understand anything they read: a business proposal, a newspaper article, a textbook, anything. (Oh, wow, who knew an English class about literature could apply to other parts of one's life?)

I also realized that next week I need to talk to them about citing electronic sources. Oh, God, another hurdle for them, when they're still struggling to clear the old ones. Well, this is how learning works: we keep getting pushed to the next level, often before we feel ready--but then somehow the previous level starts to feel easy (if we're lucky; if we're actually learning).

I feel very good about the whole experience. This is one of those rare and wonderful days when I have no quarrels with myself as an educator. It will be interesting to see how the same conversation plays out with tomorrow's class. Of course, it won't be exactly the same conversation: they are a different group, plus I will be honest with them and tell them what I talked about with today's students. I may push a bit to make the same adjustments with them as I did with today's students (same schedule, same grading), just because the uniformity is easier for me (there are enough difficult variables as it is). But ultimately, if they have a radically different perception of what they need, I want to be open to making the adjustments that work for them. I doubt it, though: I suspect their experience, and their needs, are very similar.

The short story class went well, too. They read Leslie Marmon Silko's "Yellow Woman," which is lovely but somewhat strange and potentially confusing, as it assumes a certain familiarity with Native American, specifically Puebloan, stories and culture. But they did a good job with it. And I had two great teaching moments in that class, too. One student was telling me how much he hated the story and hated the character. I said, "I don't care. I don't care. What do I care about?" He didn't want to let go of it, but he finally conceded that the issue was that he was confused by the character: ah hah! So your job is to look for all the evidence you can find in the story that will show why you are confused. Fifteen minutes later, he said, "Oh! I get it now!" He admitted that his emotional reaction had kept him from understanding why the character seemed to vacillate, but once he looked at it objectively, there was the reason, right there.

The other moment was with a young woman who had read the story but whose reading journal was blank. She said she didn't understand any of it. So ask questions, I said. She confessed to being afraid of feeling stupid. First, I said, you are not the only one struggling with this: everyone is. Second, even if everyone else gets it and you don't, whose education do you care about? (Point taken.) I reassured her that her questions are good, and I said that she'll get better marks on reading journals for asking good questions than by pretending to have an analysis that misses the details. She and I talked again at the end of class, and one of the more confident and capable students was hanging out, overhearing the conversation. He made a suggestion about how he approaches his journals--wanting to help her out--and I suggested that they join up with some of the other students in the class to form a study group, work on their journals together. He sort of took her under his wing as they left the class (almost literally: he's tall and muscular; she's average height and willowy): I'll be very interested to see what, if anything, comes of that. I hope they do form a study group. The class is starting, slowly, to develop an interesting chemistry, and I think such a group would augment that, as well as giving the students a sense of security in tackling difficult work.

Oh, and Mr. Determined did his best journal ever. A nice, solid B. Oh, they're learning, they're learning. Please let me remember that when I grade their next papers, when they start to fall apart again as the pressures of the semester mount. They are learning. Thank all the gods at once.