Of Rescue Plans and Five-Paragraph Essays

My pal Bradley brought this piece to my attention this morning, so I thought I'd share. I'd be very interested to hear folks' thoughts. My initial thoughts follow.

A Rescue Plan for College Composition and High-School English by Michael B. Prince, associate professor of English at Boston University, where he directed the College of Arts and Sciences Writing Program from 2000 to 2008.



Image by Jordin Isip for the Chronicle Review

I need to read and consider the piece more carefully, and a bit more coffee wouldn't hurt. Still, my initial response involves bristling at the notion of 'a rescue plan' (in the singular) for 1. High School English, 2. the SAT et al. AND 3. College Composition. Conflating these three very (fortunately) distinct, very (unfortunately) divorced projects seems problematic from the get-go. Yes, HSE tends to teach to the SAT in addition to addressing, broadly and in the best circumstances, rhetorical awareness. Yes, the SAT metric is based on approaches to writing that run counter to the values and strategies about writing that we comp/rhet folk introduce and/or promote and support in our classrooms. I'm not sure, however, about Prince's argument about FYC: there are exciting and emergent approaches happening in FYC across the board: private schools are implementing a rigorous rhetoric-based curriculum, larger schools are working on interdisciplinary collaborative approaches to the curriculum with 'pods' and, at UW, FIGs (an incredible program, by the by). Change is happening, but it is an evolution. Just go to Cs and you can see countless panels that explore innovative, promising, grounded approaches. College Composition needs not be 'rescued.' I'm excited enough about what is going on in FYC that I requested it this Fall after teaching mid-levels and doing WPA work these several years; what I will engage this Fall is a very different approach than it was just five years ago.

I am firmly in the camp that sees the need for rhet/comp courses to be content courses (as opposed to 'skills' courses), and it is a growing, if contentious, movement. The fact remains, however, that "rhetoric is at once everywhere and nowhere": what student learn in FYC et al. rhet/comp courses will be useful and applicable in other endeavors. Critical thinking is a rhetorical strategy . . . and it is not the only rhetorical strategy we teach.

The Palin Rhetoric

So, I admit it: I've been a lazy blogger of late, more often cribbing discussions I've been having on Facebook than posting original content. But hey--I'm claiming intercontextuality and continuing with the trend (truly, though, I just happen to think some discussions are worth of wider circulation).

The most recent lazy blog, then, comes from a story posted by my friend, Bradley, who readers may notice makes a frequent cameo on this blog. Anywho . . .

Today Bradley posted a link to Dahlia Lithwick's piece for Slate, "Lost in Translation: Why Sarah Palin really quit us." Thought provoking and accurate, the piece got me thinking, so here are my 2-cents:

I couldn't agree more with Lithwick--but I think it goes even a little deeper than a lack of rhetorical finesse. I think Palin is trying to invoke a particular vernacular that signals that she is a "real deal, everyday American gal." I have always argued that Bush-43 utilized a very carefully crafted ethos through his bumbling, good ol' boy vernacular--and say what you will, it worked for a long, long while. His manner mitigated the ivy league/working class tensions that exist in the minds of many, and it prompted his opponents to "misunderestimate" him. Ultimately, that ethos failed and came back to bite him, but I have little doubt that it contributed to his initial, broad appeal. Still, when necessary, Bush could deliver a clear message and even a powerful, effective speech (think his 9/11 speech, which is, rhetorically speaking, quite well crafted and effective).

Now, for Palin (and thanks to Bush-43) that card had been played, and it is now a tired routine. That was strike 1. Strike 2: Palin never played that card half as well as former President Bush.

Strike 3, I think, came in the form of her bull-headed unwillingness to think about her audience and unique rhetorical situation. I've known plenty of people with good ideas who simply cannot communicate them; I've known wonderful communicators who were, after the lovely rhetoric, devoid of good ideas. Palin, I think is a unique case. She seems uninterested in communicating, and so we are left wondering IF she has good ideas. It seems that Palin speaks for an audience of ONE (that one, of course, being herself--and therefore, her discourse is deeply encoded, perforated as if awaiting Gestalt intervention). In studying interaction, once can really only observe and assess what the participants treat as real; in Palin's case, even that is unclear.

Ultimately, she reminds me of the student--and anyone who teaches writing and rhetoric at an intermediate or advanced level knows this student-- who writes in a jumbled, garbled, rambling, ‘noisy’ style completely devoid of internal logic and who seems insulted, affronted that you, as the instructor, don’t ‘get’ his or her genius. It is a challenge to explain just where the writing goes wrong, and a greater challenge to convince the student that there is a problem, one that he or she can overcome.

Ultimately, both parties can end up repeating themselves with growing frustration as they ride this rhetorical Ferris wheel, an unsalvageable situation until at least one party is willing and able to shift into critical engagement mode and slow the ride. In the case of Sarah Palin, neither party seems willing—and she seems particularly resistant, electing instead to yell “faster, faster!”

I think her resignation is a direct result of this crazy ride. Her motivation may truly be noble, but who could tell? And that, I think, is truly unfortunate.