Only 393,000,000 hits for "How do I write a blog?"

I honestly don't know if the cat's search was included in that count, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was among the millions drawn to our ever growing "culture of self-disclosure."

"I agree!"..."No, I disagree..."..."Wait a minute, you have a point... but..."..."Yes!"..."No!"...."Well, maybe." That in a nutshell was my reaction to this week's readings. A bit schizophrenic, I know. But that's exactly my mindset when it comes to technology, especially technology in the classroom. 

I feel like it's a bit of a Faustian bargain when I use it. I worry I'm taking a gamble, and the techno stars will not shine on me that day and something will go wrong, and of course I'll have absolutely no idea how to fix it. But then, when it goes right, and it's not just using technology for the sake of using technology, and it's actually a means to improving students' writing, reasoning, thinking skills - then I'm psyched! But then sometimes I have buyer's remorse, when we have a more traditional lesson without the bells and whistles. In other words, we use those ancient tools called paper and pencil, and some students act as if we're in the stone ages. Both "mediums" clearly have their value and both have their advantages and disadvantages. Clearly, what it comes down to is the use of technology in a well planned, well orchestrated manner that benefits all.

Which brings us to Tate. I too have wrestled with the unfairness of it all when I am dealing with students who have limited access to technology. Our current research paper requirement specifies a typed final product; online resources such as "Noodletools" are used for notecards and bibliographies. If a student does not have access to a computer at home, then they are forced to use any available study hall time, come in early to school, leave late, try to convince mom or dad to get them to the public library - all to gain access to small snatches of time to complete the project - a project that is far from easy to begin with, and is now doubly difficult. I've heard myself encouraging them by saying, "you can do this. You just have to manage your time better than the other students. You will gain something from being forced to work harder than everyone else to finish the project." I know, lame. I don't buy it either, and I feel frustrated on their behalf. We have, however, when the student nearly signs their life away, have started to loan lap tops overnight. But honestly, that doesn't do much good if they don't have a wifi hook up nearby. So where does that leave us? Sorry, just posing the question - I haven't the answer.

One last note on blogs, however. While I think they can be self-serving, attention-seeking, dregs of the writing world, I also see their tremendous benefit, and literally - just look at Egypt - they have the powerful potential to unite a world.

Feeling overwhelmed? Try not to share the "wealth."

“Individual opportunity in the United States depends critically on the ability to present one’s thoughts coherently, cogently and persuasively on paper” (Hesse) 

Or as I’ve warned some of my more reluctant (a politically correct way to say “lazy”) students: learn how to write, or otherwise you could easily spend your life saying... 

                 “You want fries with that?” 

But clearly, we shoot ourselves in the educational foot if when we get students to write, we don’t do something productive and beneficial with that effort. In other words, the eternal question arose in this week’s readings – “what’s the best way to grade a student’s writing?”

Frankly, I’m amazed at how much formal and informal education I’ve received over the years about writing, and so much of it should have prepared me how to teach writing, but so little of it really addressed how to respond in BOTH a practical (so we’re not burning ourselves out as educators) and beneficial way to students’ efforts.

Therefore, you would have thought I’d greet Lynn’s writings with open arms this week. I had high hopes when I started the reading, and after a few exhausting pages on hand gestures while speaking, I seemed to see the light when he started on a very practical, straight forward approach to demystifying a syllabus, the first day of class, etc. But after awhile, I honestly felt like I wasn’t reading anything I hadn’t heard/read before. It was,  admittedly very well organized and a down to earth overview, I guess just not the magic bullet I was hoping for.

But that seemed to be my general reaction to all of this week’s articles. Hesse’s starts off with this grand question of “Who owns writing?’ and I thought it was going to be some great debate on appropriating ideas, and work that was considered now in the public domain and free for multiple interpretations, etc. and it just became "– who has the right to have a voice in how we teach writing?" Not something I felt a burning desire to know.

Haswell’s also offered predictable advice, but perhaps his went over better with me because I’ve just recently finished up a program with the University of Penn that strongly advocates selecting “focus correction” areas for students to concentrate on when trying to improve their writing. Or as Haswell summarizes, “Know your student: limit your responses...to no more than two things they can do.”

In other words, don’t overwhelm them. For me, personally, life has been extremely overwhelming lately. So perhaps Haswell caught me on a “good” day, and in my heart I agreed with him. Certainly, the last thing I want to do to my students, to my reluctant writers, is to overwhelm them, to scare them away from what they could potentially learn and accomplish with their life by discouraging them so much that they then truly think the only thing they are capable of saying is “You want fries with that?”