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.

Communities of Discourse . . . In the Community

I have the good fortune to count among my good friends two colleagues, Dr. William Bradley and soon-to-be-Dr. Heidi Stevenson, whose intelligence is rivaled only by their sense(s) of humor. Witty, thoughtful, ethical, and fair, Bill and Heidi consistently command my attention and respect, and I can always count on them for exceptional conversations—from the inane to the profound. That is why, spurred by a conversation we began on facebook this morning and at Bill’s suggestion, I have decided to post this entry.

A recent news item profiled a teacher in Milwaukee who, after finding graffiti adorning public property in her community, decided to ‘fight back’ by posting red flyers critiquing the graffiti artist’s/ perpetrator’s (depending on your stance) grammar. The story, appearing in today’s Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, has already been taken up by numerous other news outlets. For those of us with an investment in composition and rhetoric, as well as in education, Beth Biskobing—the teacher in question—misses the mark, as well as an important teaching opportunity.

As Heidi noted when she posted the story to her profile, “This woman has no concept of the term ‘discourse community.’” And this is where the conversation begins. What follows is a compilation, in part, of our conversation:

C: Hahahaha . . . imagine a world where graffiti employs 'proper, correct' English grammar!

Still, I kinda dig her for bringing graffiti in to her class and "geekifying" it. At least she is, inherently, showing how language may employ different conventions and works in different contexts--even if she doesn't explicitly address it as such.

H: That's the part that bugs me--not explicitly addressing the fact that her "proper" grammar is only proper and functional in a very specific context--and don't get me started on her lack of discussion of why or how it's proper. The critical pedagogue part of me bristles at the thought of this. The ecocompositionist part of me shakes her head and sighs. All that said, the thought of graffiti written in academic, "Standard English" is pretty funny.

C: Well, true. But it's a start, right? Just another reason I would love to see more conversations between K-12 educators and Comp/Rhet scholars: I understand that primary and secondary educators have different constraints, but so much of the pedagogy—especially secondary pedagogy—seems to ignore the research in the field. As you point out, and as this teacher's exercise shows, such research is certainly relevant to primary and secondary teaching practice. It is a conversation worth having . . . and a fun lesson, to boot.

B: [posting a slightly different version of the same news story to his profile:] I can agree that the question "Where da bitches at?" is offensive, but it's not because it ends with a preposition, for God's sake. I can't imagine that this type of pedantic arrogance serves any purpose other than making the teacher herself feel smug. Hey, fellow English teachers? THIS is why students hate us. Just sayin', is all.

[. . .] this version (which is a bit longer [. . .] has some fairly obnoxious quotes from the teacher). I've never met this woman, but I feel quite confident I know her. You know what I mean? As you said, this is a woman who has never even heard the phrase "discourse community"-- instead, she's just convinced that "black people speak incorrectly." And, again, the misogyny in the question isn't even discussed, really (except for the too-precious-for-words "bitches are female dogs, betcha didn't know that, tee-hee!"). But then again, this isn't about having a teachable moment-- it's about grammatical shaming.

H: Yep. She's "smart," and she'll never let anyone forget it. It's sad to see that as the guiding principle behind a person's teaching.

C:The posting of flyers is a bit much, no? Ever the Pollyanna, I tried to make lemonade out of this, but there is so much more than a fine line between a 'teaching moment' and, as you say, Bill, pedantic arrogance.

But hey--why should K-12 teachers worry themselves about little things like discourse communities and understanding how and why particular conventions develop within them? Why bother with such nuisances as cultural assumptions? Why contextualize when one can boil everything down to right and wrong? After all, isn't it our job--as post-secondary instructors--to debunk such myths? That is what we do in FYC, right? Otherwise, what might we teach?*

Guess the coffee kicked in. Where I fist saw potential, a step toward having such discussions in the K-12 classrooms, now I'm just annoyed.

What a lost opportunity. It is one thing to bring the graffiti into the classroom to discuss it; it is quite another to ignore its context and post flyers in the community that, in essence, state "I know more than you." Foolish. Rude. Faulty.

But I still see it as a teaching moment—for her.

H: It has potential--just quite possibly lost potential, and that makes me sad. It could have been an introduction to the issue I brought up in regards to your link this morning--academic and public writing. It could have been a moment in which that teacher helped her students understand that people whose writing deviates from the academic norm are wrong, or stupid . . .it just seems like she ignored that opportunity and did the exact opposite.

B: [I’ll] just add—all joking aside—that I think you and Heidi are absolutely right when you talk about this being a teachable moment for her. This could have been an opportunity to discuss discourse communities-- hell, she could have even taken the opportunity to explain the value in being fluent in more than one discourse, because there are people out there who believe "academic=correct" and "urban slang=incorrect." But instead she just posted these cutesy little signs berating the vandal (and, coincidentally, creating an even more irritating eyesore for her neighborhood) for his "errors."

I also think that there might have been a useful conversation about the term "bitches" among urban youth to describe women in general, and to ask about the possessive assumptions that underlie the question of "where they at?" There's legitimate ignorance to criticize in this discourse community, but the problem isn't that their English doesn't always sound like mine.

So what? Well, only that here you have the informal conversation of three people deeply invested in education and language who are troubled by Beth Biskobing’s ‘rebuttal.’ Her actions serve little purpose and offer nothing of real substance to the situation. This was an opportunity rich with potential—for discussing language, rhetoric, communities of discourse, cultural assumptions, exigence (i.e. what might have compelled the agent to act?), kairos (at that time), and all the other elements of a rhetorical situation (see Bitzer)—so many possibilities presented to this teacher of language.

In short, Biskobing missed an opportunity to teach—and even understand—the relationship between critical thinking and language.

Instead, Biskobing wields her ‘learning’ as a weapon, ignoring the fact that language is situated, that rules and conventions are only appropriate and useful in a particular and unique context, and that correctness is determined by the entirety of a rhetorical situation, one that is informed by a complex web of cultural meaning. With her action, completely devoid of rhetorical awareness, she merely capitalized on an opportunity to “show off’ her mad grammatical skills


. . . or might that be ‘skilz.’

Crawling out of my hidey-hole . . .

well, maybe not quite yet, but between processing our garden produce (which is quite bountiful) and preparing for the Fall semester (which, perhaps somewhat ironically, I have been reading up on the pedagogical benefits and drawbacks of using blogs in the teaching of writing while surreptitiously neglecting my own blog), designing an intermediate composition course that both engages public affairs but does not, in any way, compromise academic and intellectual freedom nor displaces writing as the primary focus of the course, digging in to more dissertation work before the Fall, and preparing for my oldest, dearest friend's bridal shower and October wedding, I have woefully neglected my blog.

Not that I am complaining: to the contrary, this time of year is invigorating and exciting . . .

But back to my purpose, here (besides disrupting the illusion that I have abandoned my blog): any of you folks have experience using blogs in your teaching? Thoughts about it? Visceral reactions? I'd love to hear from ya'.