Modes, Texts, and Affordance

I enjoyed reading both selections from “The Inner World of the Immigrant Child,” and “Literacy Moves On,” and feel that they are an appropriate compliment for each other, the former an experiential explanation of the latter. As there are a number of great discussions already underway concerning first article, I will devote this post primarily to the more analytical of the two texts.

Author Janet Evans presents a very interesting case surrounding the issue of multimodal literacy education and invites the reader to consider both the reality and the implications of students growing up in a technologically revolutionized age. She describes how user demands irreversibly enmeshed with technology changes, that is users (increasingly children) use technology to the point where user demands cause technology advances – and that it is the expectation that change will occur to meet those desires. One of the questions Evans brings out from her exploration of the public ire is to ask whether or not students are being prepared for the technology that is going to receive them after their schooling. I wonder how much of that should be the schools role? Should we be considering it to be increasingly a part of the core content in our classrooms (i.e., iMovie, Powerpoint, Ipads, etc.)?

I will say that I found the discussion on two points in Evans writing quite fascinating, though they were only brief (though important) markers throughout our readings. First is the essential question, “What is a text.” I find this point particularly interesting as it reminds me of one of the core questions in the field of linguistics, namely, “What is a word.” I linguistics, there are some who look to morphology (the study of parts of words) to say that a “word” can be something as plane as “plan,” as small as “-er” (plan-er) and as broad as including multiple “words” as one “word,” as it were. It seems here that the term “text” is asking for revision in response to a new age, a new generation of students and a new ideology about literacy, moving from mere text to a broader, more fluid definition:

“A text is now seen as a unit of communication that may take the form of something written down but also a chunk of discourse, for example speech, a conversation, a radio program a TV advert, text messaging, a photo in a newspaper, and so on.”

If this is how we define a text, and I do think this is an accurate description, how does this effect our instruction? Undoubtedly it is our role as teachers to move our students to a point to where they can clearly communicate their ideas in words alone – an important skill, especially in the context of certain professions (consider succinct business emails). But, if this has truly become only one aspect of literacy, how do we discover what our students already know about these different modes and how do we utilize that knowledge to help the explore them further while still teaching them the “hard word” of writing text only projects. Are there any who believe that this is outside of the realm of teacher responsibility – that is to say, it should not be incorporated into the standards?

Which brings me to my second point, perhaps one that will be explored in greater depth next semester (perhaps challenged outright): If we have redefined “text,” then a definition of “reading” needs to be rediscovered as well. Do we need to teach reading strategies for different modes? Or do we expect that students, having gained the basic power of reading books (however basic that is) to discover this on their own? In trying to think back on my own schooling, I do remember learning how to read a map (though I’m still not great at it), how to type, how to search for things on the web (and how to discern between what I found), and I even learned how to play video games from my friends. But, perhaps I’m old-school in that way.

Finally, what would be gained if we used many modes in teaching literacy in our classrooms? What would be lost? In the same way that we are asked by Evans to consider what is afforded by different texts, what does diversified “textual” instruction afford the students, and what might it take from them?

MGRP Reflection

This was easily the most enjoyable project of my entire collegiate career, and it’s little wonder why. Everything was my choice, my design, my interest, my creativity. It was liberating… which is surprising for me as I generally tend to grow in anxiety with fewer directions. Researching my topic was almost… thrilling. Choosing and creating the genre pieces was addicting and borderline debilitating, given the other work I have to do which often found itself skirting the border of neglect. I am excited to present tomorrow because I know that, though my work is not what I consider totally complete, it is still a full representation of both my topic and the fun I had in making it.

If I had to go back and tweek anything, it would be keeping to a timeline. Admittedly, the due date crept up on me a little bit – I think I mentally posted it under “Finals Week,” and never went back to reorganize my files. Other than allowing myself more time to hone and perfect what really felt like my craft (which would have meant more and perhaps more complex genres), I can’t think of much I would have changed.

I am convinced that I want to do this with my students. Why wouldn’t I? With the fun I had, I can only imagine what a 3^rd, 4^th or 5^th grader might do with this! Granted, I recognize that there are often institutional restrictions in some schools and districts, but let’s pretend we can circumnavigate those obstacles for now.

In terms of teaching inquiry and writing through the MGRP, there is no question that this is a deep resource. Everything about it involved writing, reading, re-reading, comprehending what I read and re-reading it again to get the right feel. For a kid like me who wants to get it “right,” this would keep me at my table all day. I love that it is so interesting! If it would be possible to make all of school this engaging, I think we would have a different picture of student achievement.

It does point out areas for concern and improvement as I move forward personally as a teacher. The amount of preparation and organization to keep this project rolling smoothly for a class of some thirty-odd students would be immense – it would be on me to find a way to make sure that I had as many safeguards to divert the chaos which is breeding just beneath the surface of this project. It would also be important to keep on top of the time – making sure that I knew, that my students knew and that my students’ families knew exactly where we were and how much further we had to go in the project.

All in all, this project is a big “Win” for me. I enjoyed it thoroughly and am looking forward to seeing it come to life in whatever classroom life affords.

Bright as a Button

Allen’s discussion of bringing subjects to life felt like a flyover, but I think she gave us a brief look at the important landmarks. For me, there were three main points that caught my attention.

First was her point of showing instead of telling. I have heard this mantra before and when I read a well shown story I do appreciate it more than a well-told story, but I have to admit, when I’ve tried to address this in my own writing I have felt a little like I was splitting hair. Finding a way to explain this idea to students who notice or create fine details in their writing I think might be a challenge because I know that, for me, sometimes “telling” feels an awful lot like “showing.” [For my part, I should probably practice a little more, too].

When Allen gave the “model a quickwrite, then revise,” I have to admit I cringed a little. I didn’t cringe because I disagree that it would be a good tool to use for students who are having trouble getting their MGRP started, but because I know how much I dislike doing it myself. My tendency has always been to lumber through a piece, sentence by sentence, making as many changes through the writing process as I can, reducing the revision process. However, I do see the value in this tool and do use it myself from time to time.

Last but not least, Allen implores us to kill clichés – to avoid them like the plague. She is dead serious and has a real bone to pick with these phrases which have been worn to a frazzle, and I agree – her point is as plain as the nose on your face. Though it may be an uphill battle, cutting these out of your writing does help with clarity and allows for the writers creativity to create depth for the reader. I know of a man, a prominent Christian preacher, who spent time as a young man writing out certain ideas in a hundred (literally) different ways, forcing himself to stretch his vocabulary and syntactic limits. Though this task may be dull as dishwater for many, he seemed to express that he was happy as a clam when he had finally found these new forms. In a nutshell, I think Allen’s heart to heart about avoiding clichés hit the nail on the head, and we should all keep a stiff upper lip with our cliché using students who are stubborn as a mule and won’t give them up.