This semester feels different. For the first time in a long time I feel like I'm really putting myself into my teaching. And not for just a lecture here or there, but everyday. I've decided that I will never not do this again. I have no idea if my students dig it, but the whole experience feels much more honest and much richer for it. Today was especially fun.
First, I used Barzun's introduction as an opportunity to pontificate about rhetoric, self-criticism, words, and reading, and man did I get rolling. We're moving into the short intensive writing unit, and I wanted to help them see writing as something similar to any other skill they've acquired through practice, self-awareness, and criticism. I rambled. I told them about how hard it is for me to write three good paragraphs a day. I talked about Jason Lezak's amazing ability to coach himself (see, cause when you swim you can't see your limbs, which makes correcting errors very difficult...). I told them that I knew some of them had written their papers the night before and that this was like going to a diving competition with one day of practice. I said, "And after jumping off and botching the dive you're still going to expect an A." At this point I stopped. I had used up my two pool-based metaphors, and I was way off track. So I regrouped and recapped the reading. Then I tried something new.
They had a paper due today, and the reading that 60% of them did was Barzun's chapter on diction. He offers five principles for word choice, ranging from "Have a point and make it with the best word possible" to "Weed out Jargon" to "Make sure you know not only the meaning but also the bearing of the words you use." These are general principles, and they take skill to implement, which is one of the reasons I like them so much. I handed out red pens to all of them, and I said: "For the next thirty minutes your job is to apply these principles to your papers. To do this, you must read your papers out loud, slowly. As you read, underline words or phrases that don't meet these criteria, and if you'd like, write in your revision. I will read and grade your revision." I wanted them to stop thinking of their papers as a finished product, as something final and for a grade. I wanted them to see that, with a night (or perhaps a morning) of distance, they'd see the paper anew. I hoped to show them that they had the ability to be effective critics of their own work.
They did not like this idea. Not at all. Particularly the reading out loud part.
But I encouraged them. I said that nothing will help them revise their papers more than reading out loud. Some were intrigued. Some looked very uncomfortable. So I turned on music: Daft Punk seemed appropriate for some reason, and I paced the front of the room reading from Barzun (you know, to prime the pump). One at a time, they started reading aloud, and after about five minutes there were nineteen students, all muttering under their breath or reading quite confidently from their papers, marking up their drafts in red. A few tapped their feet, a few remained resistant, a few were definitely having a good time.
One bouncing student said, "I feel like you should have handed out glow sticks instead of red pens."
Another came up and asked, "How do you feel about Oxford commas?"
"I like Oxford commas," I said. "In fact, I think I have a song about that somewhere..."
They handed in their papers and pens to Vampire Weekend.
As they filed out, one woman said to another, "Hey, this was a lot of fun. It let me unleash my inner critic."
I let the song finish as I packed up their now red marked drafts. Then I went for a walk.
