Category Archives: Writing

Anarchy– the Federal system– has served the U.S. education system well, helping to create a kind of hybrid vigor often squashed by centralized authority. On the other hand, it also makes the system vulnerable to certain kinds of economic and social pressures. Professionally, too, the lack of a strong labor movement in U.S. higher education means teachers don’t have much leverage when it comes to resisting or shaping change. In that sense, anarchy stifles innovation by sewing chaos.

That’s why I find discussions of ‘relevancy’ and, more specifically, ‘vocation’ both frustrating and depressing. Whatever creative energy schools direct at creating more effective curricula, it won’t likely be teachers defining relevancy. It’s more likely that the financial crisis will simply allow administrators to pursue their own ‘shovel ready’ agendas. In many places that means minimizing or eliminating those pesky liberals arts (aka Philosophy). Writing won’t suffer, but Literary Studies watch out.

That’s what’s bubbling along in the back of my brain when I read “Making College Relevant” this weekend. I think relevancy is important– the last chapters of my book are about linking writing more closely to the workplace– but it’s also a very slippery concept. In a writing class, in particular, relevancy can easily fall into a narrowly defined communicative competency. That’s important, of course, but empty if not accompanied by the existential challenges of authentic education.

I’m not surprised that the business leaders quoted in the piece seem old-fashioned in this sense. They know that creativity requires the wide and deep reading and thinking that, ironically, are associated with a traditional liberal arts-based degree. In the end, it’s not relevancy that needs to be sold to parents and students, it’s the idea of knowledge for its own sake. That would make relevancy relevant. As my dad used to say, first you get educated, then you pick a job.

It’s almost transparently self-serving of me but I am happy to see that a recent session on the ‘future’ of Rhetoric and Composition at the Modern Language Association’s annual conference has gotten some attention. (“What Direction for Rhet-Comp?“). It’s self serving because that’s one of the main themes of my book. The ‘hotter’ that topic (at least I hope!) the better my book will do.

On the other hand, the idea of professional self-criticism promulgated in the article (and in a blog post –“Response to ‘What Direction Rhet-Comp‘” — that’s also making the rounds) is typically narrowly focused, if not narrow minded. The problem, to be blunt, is that the piece represents the point of view of privileged academics. The privilege takes two main forms, professional and disciplinary.

First is their unconcern with professional issues. They don’t have to worry about the erosion of tenure or the rise of part time faculty.That part of the “future” is not in play. Second is their confidence in disciplinary boundaries. They don’t have to worry about the legitimacy of their field; that too is simply assumed. No more battles with Literary Studies; that’s a separate department.

So when we talk about the “direction” of Rhet-Comp we are not talking about the need to address the professional and disciplinary fragmentation that cripples English Studies– the divisions between Rhet-Comp and Literary Studies on the one hand, and between the (decreasing numbers of) tenure track professors and everyone else. That would be gauche.

I certainly don’t want to bemoan the call for relevant, community based projects, especially when it’s linked to writing that students will do as professionals or as community members. I certainly agree that the humanities have lost what used to be called its ‘narrative’– the story that gives the investment of time context and meaning. I make these same points in my book.

My problem is that any new media project, however relevant, rings hollow given the ongoing degrading of education on so many other fronts, from labor exploitation to the rise in tuition costs and loss of accessibility. Academics quibble over Foucault– and he’s turning over in his grave over the irony!– while the education system burns. Happy New Year!

It’s hard to get nostalgic about a time when Jim Crow was still in force, abortion was illegal, and the Vietnam war seemed to be spawning mini-civil wars all over the West. And whatever was best about the 1960s was as much hype as reality; working people and the poor were certainly no better off. But I am almost nostalgic when I read a piece like, “Why Do Students Drop Out? Because They Must Work at Jobs Too.” Is it possible to be nostalgic for an idea that never really became real?

It was a privilege of a small group of the middle to upper middle class, mostly white, but for a moment in the U.S. we seemed to have created the seed of a very good way of life. (Maybe it was or wasn’t environmentally sustainable, but it was a start.) You could raise a family on the salary of a single person. (Usually the man, but in theory it could have been anyone). And when your kids got old enough you sent them to a school (usually a state school) and they spent four years, perhaps more, at college.

None of it was in any way perfect; not even close. But it was a good idea and as long as wages were high enough and education cheap enough (or subsidized enough) it was workable. More and more, though, the idea seems utterly lost. We all assume that it takes the income of at least two people to support a family; the cost of education has become a burden that many of us carry, via loans, through much of our adult life. Few seem even aware of this idea, or seed of an idea anymore…

In distance education this long decline has created an opportunity that is as much potential as dilemma. There are lots of people who still have that dream of education, but who gave up the dream of taking four years off (or five) to pursue it long ago. (Maybe they never thought such a thing was possible.) I can provide classes for them. But, as the study suggests, taking these classes, and working, and all the rest of it, makes it more likely that they won’t finish their degrees.