In the book Why Art Cannot Be Taught, author James
Elkins attempts to explain “the curious endeavor to teach the unteachable.” He organizes the book by several arguments ("Art
can be taught, but nobody knows quite how," "Art can be taught, but
it seems as if it can't be since so few students become outstanding artists,"
and "Art cannot be taught, but it can be fostered or helped along," among
them) but the ultimate impression is that the pedagogy of art is a
mystery. The book specifically applies
to college level instruction of visual arts, but many of these concerns
translate quite readily to the teaching of composition and creative
writing. A writing class is necessarily
very different from a differential calculus class, for example, or from a
language class. It is a brief exposure
to the process. For some students, a writing
class will be an introduction to the undertaking of a much longer study. For others, it will represent a stage in their
already started journey toward becoming a writer. For still others, it will represent a mode of
expression that may one day be discarded.
My values and goals as a
teacher very much reflect the idea that learning an art is a process, and that
I am in the midst of the same discovery process as are my students. I value
1. Writing
and reading as a primary means of communication within both academic and
professional worlds.
2. Writing
and reading as a way to connect, both to the internal (self) and to the
external (the outside world).
3. Clear
expectations for individual writing courses, with instruction specialized
according to audience, purpose, and student needs.
Always, I focus on
writing as both process and product, and know that separating one from another
is impossible.
I hope to encourage
within my students a love for the written word, a curiosity about their lives
and their surroundings, and a respect for the process itself. I believe very strongly that readers become
writers, in much the same way that people who like to eat learn how to cook. And part of the process of learning to write
lies in the process of learning to read, and in both a construction and a
deconstruction of the craft. But always
craft is primary, and growth the goal.
Nancy, I like the idea that both you and your students are in the process of learning. I'm often somewhat flummoxed by the difficulties inherent in teaching any art, and writing in particular. I think it's good for instructors to admit that they may not have all the answers. That being said, you balance this out nicely with your belief in the importance of clear expectations. In such a potentially murky subject as the quality of a piece of writing, it is crucial to let the students know exactly what they need to do. I think that, especially for students who prefer math and the hard sciences, that laying out clear expectations will help prevent them from being alienated by the course
ReplyDeleteThis is a lovely analogy: "I believe very strongly that readers become writers, in much the same way that people who like to eat learn how to cook." Honestly, it's a mystery to me, how reading nourishes writing, but I've experienced it, I continue to experience it every day. I read Anna Karenina in college, and something about the passage of time in that book--I know it influences me still, somehow. Or the detail of the little hairs on Anna Karenina's neck--that taught me everything. At the same time, I don't think I privilege some idea of "the great work" over everyday language practices. There's a lot to be learned from just paying close attention. To listening. Great cooks know exactly when to stop cooking the mussels because it's become intuition. Which is not quite the same as habit. An intuition can be more flexible than a habit, I think.
ReplyDeleteFor example, I know, from habit, that it's usually effective to use anaphora in a poem when a driving rhythm would support the subject matter. But intuition tells me that I need to interrupt that anaphora with something else, right *there*, to create surprise and then actually deepen an understanding of the subject matter. These are clunky sentences attempting to get at the unteachable. It's hard enough, encouraging students to develop smart habits of writing and reading. What about intuitions? It takes practice and practice and failing and failing... So many folks, even after some wonderful successes, quit writing. "Mastery" is elusive, especially in literary forms--just because you've written one good poem doesn't mean you'll write another one. The next work, if it's to be anything substantial, has to be a discovery. So, I'm teaching students how to discover. A Sisyphean task that is oddly addictive.