Feb. 10…Becker (Ch. 1-2)
Do you see any overlaps between Becker’s talk about writing and what we’ve discussed so far in this class? If so, discuss. If not, feel free to weigh in on any aspect of Becker.
January 27…On Labaree’s Scholar-Practitioner Tension
Note something from this article with which you disagree (note: I assume that reading this paper was a different experience for those with P-12 experience and those without. That said, he made a sufficient number of bold claims so I’m sure everyone can disagree with something he said). Why do you disagree with it? Did Labaree give words to any tensions that you feel as you head down the road of the educational researcher? If so, explain.
On page 8, Becker states, “In many sociological theories, things just happen without anyone doing them.” I am surprised at how ‘un-scientific’ that sounds, though also agree with the sentiment. I never thought about this before! To scientists in the “harder” realms, our data and findings probably seem to lack causality. To educational researchers, the reason our findings lack causality is because of the lack of causality inherent in the situation; there are too many variables at play to determine for sure that one causes another. However, to scientists and researchers in the “harder” realms, the lack of causality translates to a lack of appropriate and reliable research.
ReplyDeleteLater (on page 15), Becker states, “...the students believed...that some ways of writing illegitimately attempt to persuade while others just presented the facts and let them speak for themselves.” I am struggling with this concept. I believe that scientific writing is meant to persuade the reader; it’s persuasive writing, to an extent. The problem I am having is with something that was mentioned in class recently - we should be careful researching and reporting on things about which we are passionate. I wonder to what extent my passion and beliefs influenced my research reporting in the Mathematics Specialist cohort. I wonder if I spent time and effort writing to persuade people to agree with my beliefs more than writing to report data/findings from research.
I’m even more confused about this after reading on pg. 18, “Writing a draft without data makes clearer what you would like to discuss and, therefore, what data you will have to get.” Now I am thinking about myself as a researcher; am I researching to find out the ‘truth,’ or am I searching for data to validate my own biases? Or a combination (probably)?
My confusion peaked on page 31: “Sociologists, and other scholars, [write in a ‘classy way’] because they think (or hope) that being the right kind of person will persuade others to accept what they say as a persuasive social science argument.” So I’m thinking that my own biases come out in my writing, and I can probably do research to ‘support’ my beliefs and biases, and as long as I sound smart enough in my writing, people will believe me. And now I am starting to agree with some of those “harder” scientists/researchers, because that process does not sound scientific at all.
Finally, the closing statement on pg. 42 leads me to question, again, what we are all doing here. “Currently, and in the probably future, graduate students...will “learn” to write by reading what is written. They will generally find dull, verbose, pretentious writing, perpetuating the problem and suggesting that most referees expect such a stilted style.” I don’t really think that I WANT to write that way. If I pursue educational research, I want my writing to be such that classroom teachers can read, understand, and utilize my work within their classroom.
-Chelsea
One topic of discussion that has been touched on a few times in class, is writing for your audience. We’ve talked about the concern of the audience not being able to understand the writing that is directed at them. Becker mentioned this in the first few pages of chapter one, while discussing the course that he taught. On page 7, he talked about how after editing a paper with his class that “We decided that authors tried to give substance and weight to what they wrote by sounding academic, even at the expense of their real meaning.” This hits the nail on the head, and I can see how this could be related to a lack of application to practice that writing and research can have.
ReplyDeleteThe topic of humiliation that comes from writing, and the need for rituals, is something that I personally relate to. I know what time of the day I will be able to focus on reading, as well as writing. I know what environment I can produce in, and what I cannot. That does indeed stem from a place inside of me that is afraid to write at a time when my brain is tired, and I cannot focus very well or read and not absorb as much. That is definitely tied to some fear that the work I produce isn't "good enough" and that I need to be at my best to produce my best. Honestly, working full time and taking classes part time, as well as balancing every other thing that life throws at me, I need to learn to become comfortable with the process of draft's and not getting everything right the first time.
One thing that stuck out to me in chapter 1 was when Becker talked about writing so as not to be mistaken in the editing process, meaning that we need to refine our work until it is clear. I work with undergraduate student's and a lot of them are writing their first/review/final draft all at the same time, usually the day before it's due. I was the same way in undergrad, and even sometimes during my masters program. Yet, it has been important for me to view writing as having multiple stages, and ridding of this idea of perfection at the beginning.
Meagan here.
DeleteI think the topic of chapters one and two taps into a few areas we've covered. The first is discipline. While he frames everything from the experience of sociologists, he also explains that these ideas can be used in any discipline; at least, any social science. Since education seems to be neither a social science nor a discipline, I feel as a reader that the points he's making are still applicable. My graduate background is actually in sociology, and as a disclaimer, that didn't make this any more relatable for me. I think that sadly, the most relatable aspect was teaching a class and not really having an idea of what exactly you're going to do with it.
The second part that seemed to overlap with what we've been discussing is the ability to be accepted within a "scientific" community. Are we as writers convincing a scientific community that we are an authority? And, if so, from where is the community drawing that authority? Credentials? Language? That may be a stretch, and maybe I'm just seeing things.
Connections aside, I feel pretty ambivalent about Becker's writing. I find some of it relatable and some of it too generalized. I do appreciate a push to be plain-spoken and concise. I think you can say what you mean without over-doing it. I'm currently struggling with a re-write of an article that was rejected for a conference. Every time I look at it, it's overwhelming. I think in an attempt to do a "novel" analysis, we made things way more complicated than we needed to, and now I'm writing the paper to make the analysis make sense, which feels like a conundrum Becker touched on. I think a lot of it could be more plainly written, and this week's reading has pushed me in that direction (maybe confirmation bias), and so I'm going to try and pare the paper down.
There were two parts of the reading the resonated with me the most. First, when he worked with his class to rewrite and shared “people that write professionally, and write a lot, routinely rewrite” (p. 6). I have submitted two manuscripts to journals. The first article was accepted and my second was rejected. The 1st author for the second article has been meticulously avoiding a sit down and review the edits meeting. I finally scheduled one and we settled on a phone call (my thought is that he didn’t want to face me and be embarrassed of our rejection). I highlighted different segments of the feedback we got. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive and actually suggested we submit to a different journal. The edits were APA and grammatical, not content. He said “oh that wasn’t so bad!” after we had that meeting. I’m an editorial assistant for the Counseling and Values Journal and I get to see a lot of reviews. I told him that I have seen all types of feedback, and ours was really good. I have seen entire documents attached with pages and pages of revisions. I even saw someone attach a pdf on “how to write a proper sentence” which was horribly patronizing, and the editor and I decided not to attach that to their email. Here’s my point: rewriting is normal, and that’s something I am working on!
ReplyDeleteThe other thing that stood out was writing with “classy language” for a fear of not seeming smart enough. I have a google sheet of my own dictionary I started when I became a doc student. I add any words I don’t know, what they mean, and how to use it in a sentence. I did this because I thought I had to use big words to be taken seriously and to seem smart. I actually still feel that way. What I realized through Becker’s writing is that I feel this way for a deeper meaning. It’s because I’m afraid that people will laugh at me for getting things wrong, challenge me if I’m too direct, or think I’m a child for how simple my language is. Because of that I do a lot of circular writing for the first draft. Then I go through and edit to be more direct. But that voice is in my head initially, which makes that process part of my writing routine.
For example, this is my draft of my initial blog post: Becker’s first two chapters spoke into existence fears and thoughts I had never put words to. He alludes to “imposter syndrome” and normalizes it with his “well you didn’t die” experiment he did with his seminar. After everyone shared their embarrassing habitual routines a universality was established.
That last sentence shows my insecurities! I'm really glad I have the opportunity to reflect on this. Am I the only one?
I concur, Aliza, writing is a vulnerable process, and we often fall into the “imposter syndrome” of writing because we still trying to find ourselves in the process. I like that Becker acknowledged that we often read the published writings of others and fail to realize the behind the scene work it took to develop the final product. I appreciate the honesty in your opening statement of your accepted and rejected work, and later, when you discussed not attaching the “how to write a proper sentence,” speaks to your understanding of how personal the writing process is and can be as you highlighted your own insecurities and was sensitive the possible the insecurities of others. I appreciate your thoughts.
DeleteKori Mosley
ReplyDelete2/9/2020
Becker’s Chapter 1 was a relief, although not really “new news.” I should know myself better by now. I am well aware of the numerous “magical rituals” (p. 3) that I put into place before writing (or doing any school work, really) - and why I do it. I just wish that I could finally learn from this knowledge and move beyond it. The blank page terrifies me (but not as much as the blank mind). To further my frustration, I am reminded of how, as an art teacher, I am very guilty of not practicing what I preach. The blank canvas can be just as terrifying as the blank page. To help my students tackle that fear, I teach/preach PROCESS, PROCESS, PROCESS - the act of, in the words of artist Kerry James Marshall, “showing the ugly before it’s done.” No masterpiece is produced at first go - and art class is all about first drafts (really bad art) and subsequent revisions (which may only be slightly better). That’s really all we do - peer review, critique, and self-reflection guide the multiple revisions - iterations. There’s a lot of “ugly” that has to happen first. If something gets “finished” (and looks “good,” however that is defined) that’s a bonus… but when is it really finished - and who is the judge of “good”?? Additionally, the “artist’s voice” is not the only concern, we also have to think about the audience and, ultimately, the best way to communicate the intended content of the work. So, as much as I felt supported to learn that my irrational and neurotic fears are a “common disease” and that, while I may be crazy, I am “no crazier than anyone else” (p. 3)…. I still feel stupid for continuing with my bad habits.
Chapter 2 was interesting although I found it harder to read - perhaps, ironically, as I feel like he could have gotten more quickly to the point about “classy” writing and the various personae that may be adopted while writing. I prefer to write in “common” terms but I definitely have used have flowery language because I thought it sounded more impactful, intelligent, or researched. On page 31, he quotes C. Wright Mills in discussing “status,” which we have talked about via Labaree’s article - “In large part sociological habits of style stem from the time when sociologists had little status even with other academic men. Desire for status is one reason why academic men slip so easily into unintelligibility…” I can remember playing “news anchor” as a child and we would speak with accents other than our own and with “talking head” vocabulary, flourishes, and body language that seemed, to us, to be “professional and learned.” In this way, we were imitating those who we saw as role models, just as Becker suggests students may model writing styles after professors who they feel are “the elite.” This gives me pause to consider exactly what I CAN/SHOULD take from others without feeling that I HAVE TO.
There's so much in Becker that is, obviously, an exploration of imposter syndrome, specifically as it relates to the hierarchy of academia, power structures inherent in that system, and graduate students as the lowest members of that hierarchy. There's so much about writing that appears to create a sense of fear for writers that it drives people to simply not write at all. Becker's iterative copywriting and editing process is one I'm familiar with, as I have an undergraduate degree in English and therefore never see anything I've written as truly finished. It's just the version I decided was the best one, or maybe, as Becker writes on page 12, "The only version that mattered was the last one."
ReplyDeletePerfect is very much the enemy of the good in this instance, and I find the fear of writing to be a curious one. I've very naively never been afraid of appearing stupid: we all do from time to time. I do it more than my fair share. A very bad paper I wrote in my undergrad program followed me for decades online. It was my embarrassing attempt at trying to understand Emerson's transparent eyeball, a concept I still don't fully grasp some 20 years later. It was embarrassing to not understand the thing, but it's OK to not understand everything you read. Heck, I'm not sure I understand everything we're reading in this class, either.
Stupidity or cluelessness or obliviousness or whatever you want to call it, that's part of the human condition. If you are arrogant enough to think that you've never appeared stupid, well, I have some disappointing news. Even scholars in their field have something new to learn. I think there's space here for humility, and being willing to share drafts is a space to be open to the thinking or perceptions of others. Editing is by default a space of humility: recognizing that we need help, or a different perspective, or distance---knowing that we may be too close to the thing we're writing to even see it anymore. Maybe that distance is vital to be able to whittle away words to get at the meat of the matter. Being without ego in that space is the only way to truly hear how someone else views your work, and to be receptive to any feedback that they might offer. How can we develop a sense of humility about ourselves to be able to accept and integrate feedback into the work that we do? Does ego get in the way of humility? Can we be taken seriously and still be intellectually curious, or admit that while we may be scholars of a thing, we clearly can't "know it all?" How do the concepts of humility and authority contradict each other, or do they? Clearly I have some ideas to wrestle with.
AMEN! The entire discussion of "classiness" and "socialization" into academia from chapter two had me constantly thinking about the power and privilege associated with that concept. (It probably didn't help that I was visualizing a traditionally older, white male academic lecturing the young, female academic-in-training who had these questions and was already internalizing the answers).
Delete(That was posted by Beth BTW) ;)
DeleteI really like reading Pring and Becker concurrently. If we’re cool with the idea that Education is about learning, learning is about development, and development pertains to what it means to be human, then the process of writing is definitely an educational space. Becker highlights how deeply personal writing is, for reasons that precede any formal academic training or theoretical framework. One thing that comes along with personhood is awareness of self, and there is no greater hell than being aware of yourself. I live in my own head all day and know all of the terribly stupid things I think, have thought, and have said. Being alive is embarrassing, y’all! What I get from Becker is that the quality of my writing hinges on what I do with that embarrassment and introspection. I can avoid finding my own words for things and parrot others, I can check out and just write SOMETHING, or I can earnestly invest in the process of turning okay ideas into good ideas.
ReplyDeleteReading anything that I write is like reading an uncovered middle school poem or listening to a voicemail I left. The voice on the page or on the phone sounds nothing like what’s in my head. Academic/Professional writing is so painfully earnest and sincere that it’s impossible to wrap it with irony or cynicism that make makes easier to tolerate. You can’t really submit a paper and say: “But I was just messin’ around, I don’t mean any of that stuff!” Reading chapters 1 and 2 of Becker and hearing so many of my thoughts and experiences echoed from his students made me feel “seen” in both an affirming and an uncomfortable sense. I’ve been the student who used jargon and flowery writing (like how I used Dialectics in my last blog post! I’m not even sure I used the word right!!) and I’ve been the student who would rip off a paper in one sitting three hours before the deadline. Both habits stemmed form a lack of self-confidence, but manifested on opposite ends of the spectrum.
This program is equal parts cool and terrible because it makes you get out of your head and listen to your old voicemails. There is no merit in pretending that you need to use big words to sound smart, and no humility in pretending that the first thoughts you have on a topic are the only thoughts you are going to have. It takes just as much self-absorption to think you’re going to have a historically good first draft as it does to think you’re going to have a historically bad one. What I took away from the first two chapters is that you aren’t a good writer for what you put in your first draft, you’re a good writer based on how you approach your 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and nth drafts. Even though everything is still embarrassing, at least in my writing I can undo the thing I said.
The metaphor you use really enunciates that embarrassment and awkwardness that come with writing, especially at a high level. Being a good writer really does come with humility. I'm currently writing a course with a colleague for a grant our center got. My scripts have been edited, edited, edited, and re-edited. We had a table reading and before that I had to read the whole thing with an annoyed 8th grader voice. After I read it with anger, I realized the edits were not about me as a writer, but the course in total. I have learned a lot from this editing process. It has gone through 3 separate editors many times, and now the product is finished (YAY!). What I learned, and what you reiterated is being a good writer is about facing your drafts. Facing them and then working on them. Nothing is right the first time, and when we read, sometimes we forget the articles and books have been heavily edited.
DeleteWhoops!! Aliza for the above post
DeleteOne thing I always tell my students in comp courses and fiction workshops is that there's no such thing as a great, one draft paper or short story. I say this somewhat sarcastically because I know, and I tell them this, that I've probably given a lot of As to one draft papers, but those papers or stories probably won't get too far out in the wild, with a larger, more discerning and busy audience. I tell them that revising is where the real love for your reader comes in, and that it's hard to be considerate of your audience when you're lost in that initial surge of inspiration or caffeine-induced mania during the creation of the first draft.
ReplyDeleteSaying this is probably just a simple, cynical way to get them to care about their writing in a way that matters beyond the walls of some writing class they signed up for because they had to. I thought of this as I read, "Some become very adept at the format and turn out creditable, highly polished papers, working on them in their heads as they walk around campus, putting the words on paper as the assignments come due. Teachers know all this. If they aren't aware of the mechanics, they know the typical results and don't expect papers more coherent or highly polished than such a method can produce" (11).
And I think about my own writing that I do as part of this doctoral program, and I know I'm guilty of some of the same things my students do.
Writing takes a lot of time. But here the one thing that makes it feel less lonely, in a weird way, are all of the formatting rules. Writing without guiding posts can be a little scary; at least in the case of APA formatted papers, there's a pretty concrete format.
It's not so much the writing that scares me, it's the researching. That's what really feels like has no end or boundaries. I had a sort of moment during our last class where I realized I'd been really presumptuous about my approach to my doctoral studies. Things are way more complex and squishy than I had realized, which means there's so much to consider and there are so many paths to explore.
But so far, I agree with Becker and his pursuit to clean out empty (posturing?) language. That kind of writing always made me suspicious of academia in general.
A lot of this also reminds me of a column written by a colleague of mine at my former institution: https://www.insidehighered.com/views/2017/06/07/difficulties-scholars-have-writing-broad-audience-essay
The above is from Peyton B.
DeleteOne thing that I wish we had had more of an opportunity to reflect upon in last week's discussion was the inherently discursive nature of disciplinarity. Disciplines are more or less discourse communities, and it might be generative to interrogate the discipline/disciplinarity of education through this lens. I don't have an answer for this, but it's useful to think with.
ReplyDeleteAt the opening of Chapter 2 in Pring, he says that "philosophy requires close attention to the meaning of what is said" (13). The nature of a discourse community is, however, that we tend not to pay all that much attention to what is said, because the ways in which members of discourse community communicate are often taken as understood. And indeed, it helps to have a commonly agreed upon set of ideas, meanings, values, and assumptions for making the heady work of philosophy and research more manageable. So perhaps what Pring laid out in opening that chapter was rather how individuals are assimilated into a discourse community via a critical reflection on how they have previously engaged with language, but, inexorably, the discursive structures of their chosen philosophical inquiry retrain and retool their minds.
I don't know. I do know, however, that much of the stress and hand-wringing within education research seems to be that our discourse community lacks stature vis-a-vis other discourse communities, both in relation to the more "hard" social sciences and to the normative, practitioner-oriented communities of school professionals. If we were to engage with Pring's introduction to the relationship between language and philosophy a bit more, we might see an avenue for overcoming this hurdle. I think. He argues on page 15 that "[one] important function of philosophy...is to expose the false implications drawn from the failure to see differences of meaning in the usages of words." Obviously, difference disciplines use words differently. I would argue that part of being a good steward of our discipline is not only to be familiar with the prevailing discourses thereof, but also to be familiar with how other, related disciplines use language and how we can overcome any differences between our discipline and others.
Enter Becker. Faithful disciplinary stewardship mandates clarity of communication, and Becker allows us to engage with writing as a process, hopefully arriving at such a goal. Indeed, in Becker's discussion of revision, he seems very earnestly engaged with the idea that good writing should be accessible.
Anyone who has made the transition from one discipline to another will understand that what constitutes good writing is a question of the norms of your discipline. To be frank, I find most humanistic writing unintelligible, because I was trained as a social scientist and am accustomed to certain standards of argumentation that literature and its related fields do not adhere to. But what that really means is that I need to learn more about how humanists use language.
Being enmeshed in a discourse community like an academic discipline can make communication with "outsiders" difficult. But, as the readers we have had show, the necessary work of making what we do and say and research and teach relevant and useful to a wider community means being able to communicate widely, to be adept at a variety of ways of using language, thinking, and making meaning.
Jonathan Dusenbury
As I read Chapters 1 and 2 of Becker, I saw overlaps with our class discussions. One of those overlaps pertains to audience. My background is as a high school English teacher. When teaching writing to my students, I always stressed the importance of knowing for whom you are writing and using vocabulary and contexts that are easy for the intended audience to understand. I also explained that quality writing is not a one and done; it is a process. As we discussed in class, much (if not most) research articles are not written for practitioners; rather, they are written for academia. Beck points out that most of what is written can be said in fewer, more ordinary words. My focus has always been on quality over quantity. I have read a lot of classy sounding articles and texts. After reading those 10-20 pages, I walked away with absolutely nothing but confusion. On the other hand, I have read texts and articles about complex topics that were written in everyday language and walked away with greater understanding, feeling empowered to make a difference. This reading also reminded me of a conversation in one of my classes last semester about this same topic. The response to the class’ criticism about the verbose and complicated nature of the research articles we were assigned to read, the professor said, “Researchers write for one of two reasons, for tenure or to influence practice. You have to decide which type of researcher you want to be.” The first night of this class, Dr. Stemhagen asked why we are pursuing our doctorate degree. My response was the same as it was during last semester’s class: to bridge the gap between research (theory) and practice. If the purpose of educational research is to inform practice, our audience should always be practitioners and our writing should be such that they can easily understand and apply our findings in schools. That is how we make a positive difference in education.
ReplyDeleteBeck points out another overlap that we have discussed and that I have observed throughout my post-secondary matriculation and work in education - persona and authority (Chapter 2). He points out that respect as a professional comes with earning the status of Ph.D., and even with that, there is an expectation that new professionals adhere to already established constructs (“the rigid style of the discipline”) when writing until they become established and respected in their field. He speaks to an “us vs. them” divide between “academic intellectuals” and ordinary people, with the former having an air of superiority over the latter and the latter breathing that air to the extent that they try to sound like former in order to fit in to their world.
One of the things that struck me in this reading is Beck’s criticism of those who use “cowardly qualifiers” in their writing to avoid explicitly identifying causal relationships even if their findings show causality. He says such writing creates “all-purpose loopholes” so that writers can defend themselves against exceptions to their findings. The qualifiers, according to Beck, make statements “fuzzy” and “ignore the philosophical and methodological tradition which holds that making generalizations in a strong universal form identifies negative evidence which can be used to improve them” (pg. 10).
Sherol
One sentence in chapter one caught my attention while reading in the context of this course, and a lot of the discussions we've already had so far:
ReplyDelete"[researchers] want to discover causes,...but don't want the philosophical responsibility." (9)
I laughed nervously last week when we talked about being torpefied by this course's content and scope of discussion because I was in that space, often feeling like I was on the ground watching a conversation sail over my head. Becker clarified for me that perhaps it wasn't that I didn't know what was happening, but that this level of critique, skepticism, and philosophical engagement has never before been required of me, so I was reacting to the newness of this expectation.
Our class has already posed some deep questions about the nature of knowledge and the conscious decision-making required of academic research within disciplines. It's clearer now that in order to do any kind of research or scholarly inquiry well (with clarity, purpose, mindfulness, intent), we have to be willing to take on the "philosophical responsibility" to seek to understand as much context as possible.
Ugh, no name again: this is Beth
DeleteBecker’s chapter 3 - One Right Way, screams one size does NOT fit all, and that is okay, in fact, that is more than okay. Writing is a personal experience, a journey that evolves over time. For example, using a physical trip to California. We can agree that there are many different ways to get to California, and California may be the destination, but how one gets there and what happens along the way is part of your personal experience. For one to truly understand your trip to California who was not there, you have to be able to share your journey systematically. Your reader not only knows about your trip to California, but you want them to feel as if they were on the journey to California with you and part of your trip. The institution of education leaves many feeling as if there is only one way to be successful in their field and that it is important not to steer from the course of demonstrated success. Becker speaks to the importance of reaching your audience and creating a space of understanding through the writing process. Editing is an integral component of the writing process, and as writers, Becker argues that we have to get comfortable with the editing process. As a writer, we are inviting someone to join us on our journey, but we have to allow ourselves to not only be vulnerable in process, but to also be courageous to all the things this process may reveal. At the end of chapter 3, page 67, Becker discusses the importance of confidence that not only aligned with my thinking, but it also resonated with me:
ReplyDeleteTaking readers into your confidence about your troubles requires admitting that you had them and, therefore, that you are not the paragon who always knows the Right Way and executes it flawlessly. I don’t think that it is difficult, since no such paragons exist, but some people don’t like to make such admissions. The remedy is to try it and prove to yourself that it doesn’t hurt.
Writing is a process and process of continuous improvement. You write for an audience, and to hone your craft is not always due to your weaknesses, but to strengthen the understanding of what you want others to derive from what you are writing. As stewards of education, we have to develop and share knowledge, but to do so, we have to communicate effectively through our writing.
As a bachelor’s degree in Journalism degree holder, I appreciated Becker’s subtle descriptions on the differences between writing in undergraduate and graduate school. In undergrad, I had less trouble coming up with words to write my feature stories for the school newspaper. I enjoyed interviewing people, putting together and outline and writing a story that my peers would read and find interesting. I would often have a rhythm or song in my head as I would write. I considered myself an artist. But, as mentioned in the reading, I only had to submit the one draft. After a few minor edits from a peer or instructor, I was off to having my “masterpiece” published. After reading this text, I understand that the editing and rewriting is the most important to scholarly writing. Passivity is not welcomed. This is a vastly different approach from all of the writing that I’ve ever done (in college or professionally). This approach makes practical sense to me because each day I strive to learn more and get better. If that is the case, new ideas and critiques should surface when you re-read your papers after some time as gone by.
ReplyDeleteThere is a level of vulnerability that comes with writing in graduate school. From the reading I interpreted and have come to the conclusion that getting over your fears is essential to effectively communicating your arguments and writing as a scholar. The example that Becker used when describing the assignment that he issued to his classes, resonated with me the most. I could see myself hesitating to bring a paper to class for strangers to review and critique. Fear sets in as it is not a natural process to grasp. Writing with the understanding that it’s only the first version (or rough draft) is a new way of thinking for me and something that I needed to read as I move forward in my doctorate education. I will hopefully be able to successfully refine my copy-editing skills in the process.
Becker's description of the drafting/writing process that students go through resonated deeply with me. He mentions at one point that "smart students" (don't love the use of that phrase) don't learn skills that aren't useful and therefore, "the first draft, being the only one, counts" (p.19). I have historically been a one-draft writer. Like Maggie mentioned in her post, I need a certain set of conditions in order to read, write, or work productively so rather than piecemealing a paper together, I spend a large chunk of time writing it all at once. However, as Becker mentions, graduate students who have become accustomed to doing that often struggle later; "but eventually they have to write longer papers, making more complex arguments based on more complicated data. Few people can write such papers in their heads and get it right on the first try" (p.19). I made it through my master's operating as a one-draft writer but am realizing that in this Ph.D., I'd have a much easier time breaking up the writing, especially if I want to produce work worthy of publishing.
ReplyDeleteThe other idea of Becker's that stood out to me was professionalization; "academics-in-training worry about whether they are yet, can ever be, or even want to be professional intellectuals of the kind they are changing themselves into" (p.39). I have felt this numerous times when writing papers and policy briefs, assuming the identity of an expert even though I am painfully aware of how "in development" my thoughts and opinions are. I think we've probably all wondered at one point when we are going to be confident experts. It reminds me of the discussion we had during our first class meeting about how receiving a PhD will not automatically make us feel more knowledgeable or experienced - there isn't that much difference between someone at the end of a doctoral program and someone who just finished.