Reflexivity

This conference on pedagogy next April is definitely a place I wish I could be, but instead I’ll be in Australia at Critical Link 5: Quality in Interpreting: A Shared Responsibility. I suppose I should not complain? :-/ (But when they finally get transporter technology, Beam Me Over Scottie!)
I submitted two proposals, they accepted one called “Interpreters: Guardians of Social Justice?” Meanwhile, the selected papers from Critical Link IV (held in Stockholm, 2004) are actually being printed (finally!) I don’t know where my piece is placed in the dang thing, but it is my first attempt at the kind of combination of theory-generating research and practical intervention that I hope might become “my thing.”

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Learning implies change. Intellectual growth exchanges what is already known for new knowledge. Even when understanding builds on the familiar, advanced thinking replaces simplified generalization with complex specificity. To learn, by definition, is to transgress. Transgression implies violation, but its generic sense is simply to “pass beyond.” One passes a limit to a place, notion, or practice that is unfamiliar. Crossing into the unknown is risky. Boundaries (seem to) exist for a reason. The reason may not be known, but it is common to assume that the reason has a legitimate cause. Strategically, taboos and rules of politeness often combine to prevent questioning, thereby leaving reasons, causes, and assumptions of legitimacy free from scrutiny.
The sources of human social behavior can only be molded through open conversation about passions and ideals. Struggling to explain reasons gives visibility to causes, creating the possibility for thoughtful consideration of present and future effects. Queries about the relationship between cause and reason play on the boundary of etiquette. Asking “Why?” flirts with individual rationality and personal justification. To question the relationship between intention and outcome is to dance with the significance of existence. I believe it is only when we inquire into everyday choices and decisions that we approach the potentials of social justice.
I believe we believe too much, and question too little. Asking questions is difficult; casting doubt challenges the security of predictable social order. Belief is comfortable, a strategy for securing identity. Contrarily, I believe that when I am afraid, I am on the boundary that matters. When I consciously act into fear with an attitude of exploration, I am as alive as I will ever be. What I have noticed is that my own fears are most prominent when I question myself, the friends and family members I love, and those with some semblance of power over me.
When I am the person with authority, asking questions is not frightening. I may feel anxious, but I am not afraid. When I – as an “at will” worker – ask questions of colleagues and supervisors, I experience a range of visceral symptoms: sweaty palms, increased heart rate, butterflies in my stomach, wobbly legs. I know I am on the verge of learning. Something will be different as a result of my question; asking is an act of transgression. The response &emdash; in words and action &emdash; will inform and influence my relationships: at best by inspiring a reciprocal curiosity, at worst by invoking an oppositional foe. Most intimately, close attention to the responsiveness or reactivity of others teaches me. I transgress myself.
This essay was written according to the assignment for students in “Freshmen Writing” to write a statement of belief, following guidelines outlined by National Public Radio. Thanks to all the members of Section 68 for feedback and suggestions which improved my writing.

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“I do not feel as though my letter had enough backing to it in order to truly change a person’s mind or outlook…if I had more time to gather information about the paper,

then these things could have been accomplished.”
~ Marie
I have been grading student’s rewrites of an assignment called Adding to the Conversation. Each student selected an issue of concern, identified a target audience (with the power to actually DO something), and attempted to persuade this audience of a certain strategy. While all of the students are passionate about their topics, few have done the necessary research to present themselves as credible experts. Their ethos is weak. Most of them rely on pathos, or on logic (logos) that assumes the main points of their argument are obvious and undebatable.
I resemble this. :-/ Critical thinking means learning to recognize and question one’s own assumptions in addition to doubting the assumptions of those who disagree or have a different understanding.
What is neat about the second and third drafts of these students’ essays is the way their ideas come more clearly into view. Even if the writing isn’t yet at a level where it might sway someone with an open mind, you can see the sharp awareness and insight these young adults have about the world in which we live. I wish I could have them for another semester! (As if they are a kind of property. (She sighs.)

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It has been some time since I made an error in judgment (while interpreting) that sent a deaf and non-deaf person into a spin of communicative confusion. I hope I can explain this clearly, as I realized immediately what I had done ‘wrong’ but could not un-do. Perhaps, by putting this in writing, I’ll be able to catch myself before making this faux paux again. It is familiar, if not common.
It is a classroom setting with the typical many-to-one ratio: one deaf student, a non-deaf teacher, and several non-deaf students. This deaf student has solid verbalization and strong lipreading skills, so it is one of those situations where I only work from spoken English into American Sign Language; the deaf person speaks for herself and occasionally does not even watch my interpretation. The teacher was explaining the difference between compound and complex sentences. One of the non-deaf students asked how a complex sentence is different than a comma splice. The deaf student was taking notes when the question was asked, and by the time she looked up at me I was interpreting the middle of the teacher’s explanation.
Two different ‘realities’ co-occurred. The teacher saw the deaf student appear puzzled, and asked if she was confused. The deaf student asked a question by voice and lipread the teacher’s answer. As I listened to the teacher’s answer, I thought she was answering a different question than the deaf student had asked. I assumed this was because the question the deaf student asked did not make sense in relation to the previous student’s question about comma splices. I said directly to the teacher, “but I was just interpreting the conversation about comma splices.” I thought this would clarify the context for the deaf student’s question. For the next few minutes confusion reigned as each of them tried to figure out what the other one wanted to know.
Interestingly &emdash; perhaps you’ve noticed? &emdash; I do not recall the deaf student’s question, even though all the other details of the interaction are clear! This is because I was confused about the difference between grammatically incorrect comma splices and grammatically correct complex sentences! My attention was on the other student’s question and the teacher’s answer, hence, I did not make the mental shift to the fact that the deaf student’s question was on another topic altogether! The teacher, not aware of my need to process the distinction, heard the deaf student’s question accurately, and responded appropriately. My “intervention” un-did the meaning the two of them had mutually constructed without me.
Eventually, the student inquired, “What question did you ask me?” to which the teacher replied, “I didn’t ask you a question. I thought you looked confused and asked if you had a question.” “I’ll let you know if I’m confused,” responded the deaf student. What I realized is that when the teacher asked about the deaf student’s puzzled expression, the student was working over some issue in her mind. Whatever it was (since I don’t remember what the deaf student asked), it had nothing to do with the question about comma splices. Being assertive, the student accepted the teacher’s invitation to ask a question and did so &emdash; about what was important to her in that moment. It was my inability to let go of the other student’s question that inspired me to intervene.
I can rationalize my decision, as I did in the moment, that the other student’s question was important and the answer included information that the deaf student needed to know and might otherwise miss. However, the student is the one who is learning, and the student chose to pursue the question that was most immediate in her own mind in that moment instead of being curious about someone else’s issue. Normally, I would go with this flow, adapting to the deaf person’s change in topic instead of holding on to a non-deaf person’s topic. What got in the way of my judgment this time? I wanted to understand the differences among a comma splice, a complex sentence, and a compound sentence! Conveniently then (I am embarrassed to admit), the teacher’s invitation to the student to ask a question opened up a window for me to ask my question &emdash; all under the guise of clarification for the deaf student.
Yep. I have been in this situation before. This is the first time I have been able to perceive the subtleties so well. The ‘reality’ I acted from my ‘best instincts’ as an interpreter was actually a mask for my own desire in the communicative situation. The ‘reality’ that the two primary interlocutors experienced (the deaf student and non-deaf teacher) did not even include me. Based upon my role, however, and the expertise assumed to accompany it, the teacher tried to incorporate my intervention into her conversation with the student. She believed that my saying I had just been interpreting something different than what the deaf student asked was meaningful and responded accordingly. In other words, the teacher privileged my information as the communication professional over her own immediate experience of direct conversation.
Now this is power.

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“I will always have the choice of writing for myself,
or writing to fill space.
My work will come out substandard if I give in to the latter temptation . . . I can allow myself to be lazy
whenever I am assigned a new project.
I have realized, however, that
apathy not only has negative repercussions
when report cards come out, but
it hurts my psyche as well.”
~ Julian
“A major issue that has arisen is that I make statements regarding a topic, and I will not explain that statement, it will be an awkward statement in the middle of a paragraph. When I write the statement, in my head, it sounds right because there is reasoning that only I know, that I forget to explain in my paper. That reasoning is essential to the statement.” ~ Erin
“I am excited to see my writing improving gradually. What remains the same is the speaker’s voice…I analyze and view issues from my perspective and share my thoughts with my peers…this writing strategy should be kept because it is a part of my writing style, my voice.” ~ Lincey
“I wrote [a short plan on what changes I wanted to make to my essay] after receiving my peer edits. It was a helpful way to think about what my fellow student had said about my essay and decide what feedback I wanted to listen to and what advice I did not want to take. This way I knew what I wanted to do before actually beginning to edit my essay. This helped me make the most of the limited amount of time I had to edit my essay and made my edits more effective and focused.” ~ Kathleen
“I still don’t like approaching the rhetorical situation in such a specific manner because I am a naturalist. I don’t need to be forced to pay attention to ethos, pathos, and logos. It’s hard to avoid thinking about who I am, what I am saying, and who I am saying it to while writing. Once again, the rhetorical situation is a tool that can help but is not a rule.” ~ Michael
“I have to write this reflection using more detail and precision [than the first one], since the broader topics were already addressed. Instead of just being able to sit down and write the letter, I really had to go through my work and look for the information and detail I needed. Unlike before, I did not know the answers this time. This is not to imply that I do not know what my goals are, or what I am still struggling with. It does mean, though, that I am not sure of the whys and hows behind these general themes.” ~ Jemma

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“…each word must fit in the sentence like a stone in a bridge; using the thesaurus can help me find the keystone word that holds the sentence together.” ~ Spike

I . . . began to recognize the usefulness of creating multiple drafts.
I began to forget about my perfectionism and
simply write what I thought.
My writing has slowly been becoming more raw.
I write first to express myself, and then go back to tweak and perfect it. I have learned that it is
in this way that writers capture and write with a voice.”
~ Kate
“I started to notice a lot of the structural problems more because it wasn’t very motivated writing in the first place. Powerful writing can have lots of errors, for example, I’m reading a book written in the Civil Rights Era, and the author uses common vernacular of the Deep South. It’s not necessarily grammatically correct, but it’s powerful. What I have here is not powerful writing.” ~ Elise
“I had never been instructed to develop the transitions in my writing. Since this writing course has begun, there has been quite an emphasis on making transitions between paragraphs and ideas. I know that these transitions are what glues ideas and themes together to make one concrete precise idea. This is one of the newly identified parts of the writing world that I have been able to understand better now.” ~ Jake
“I need to focus on writing for the audience at hand. If large words and a dismissive tone best serve my goal, then that is how I should write. If choppy sentences and a friendly tone best serve my goal, then that is how I should write. If a meandering, diary-style discourse best fulfills the assignment, then that is how I should write. If a rigid format and cohesive narrative best fulfills the assignment, then that is how I should write. I need to learn to be come a multifaceted writer, able to change tone and diction to meet varying tasks.” ~ Dave

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What does it mean to transgress?
Most of the definitions have to do with violation of one kind or another, but the most generic sense is to “pass beyond.” Beyond what? A limit. To where? The other side of a boundary.
Transgression is also a scientific term describing “an advance of the sea across the land.”

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“When you write to fulfill a task, it is noticeable because every paragraph will seem alike and as if they are only meant to complete your assignment. If you write more openly to the reader, then they will feel more comfortable and will enjoy reading it more.” ~ Neil

“Write as if you want to send an important message to the reader,
so that your paper will be more sophisticated and flow better.”
~ Neil
Proofreading: “Though it may not catch every small grammar mistake, I often find argument flaws and discontinuities in my writing as I proofread, making it an essential step in my path to great writing.” ~ Sharon
“I realized that while fixing my first essay I did not look up my mistakes. Instead, I just corrected what Steph had written without knowing what I was fixing and why I was doing these corrections.” ~ Megan
“I realized that everything that is written in a paper, affects something else.” ~ Megan
“I need to reserve a large amount of time to write good papers. I can not write an effective paper in one night; I need to reserve time over a few days to revisit my writing to make changes and corrections. I will always need to allow time to write a quality paper.” ~ Nicki
“It isn’t that I do not care to fix my mistakes; it is that I did not know I was making a mistake until recently….Now that I know it is a problem, it will be easier to fix.” ~ Nicki

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“…hold yourself in readiness…” (149).
One of my students referred to Philip Pullman; I was intrigued.
“…fighting the forms in the air, those dark intentions…” (392) “…a catastrophe of flame…” (385) “…no one thought it would ever be possible…Well, we were wrong…we had to learn to see it…” (376) “…at last there was a physical proof that something happened when innocence changed into experience” (373).
“Everything out there is alive, and there are grand purposes abroad! The universe is full of intentions, you know. Everything happens for a purpose” (330).
“But you cannot change what you are, only what you do” (315).
“We are all subject to the fates. But we must all act as if we are not,” said the witch, “or we will die of despair” (310).
“And how do you know where these meanings are?” “I kind of see ‘em. Or feel ‘em rather, like climbing down a ladder at night, you put your foot down and there’s another rung. Well, I put my mind down and there’s another meaning, and I kind of sense what it is. There’s a trick in it like focusing your eyes” (151).
“It only works if the questioner holds the levels in their mind…without fretting at it or pushing for an answer, and just watch…” (126).
“She remembered what she had to do
and tapped on the glass door.
It opened almost at once” (72).

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“Don’t foresee the future – make it possible.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
I came across this quote posted on the commercial website of the “life on a train” powerpoint author. The idea of creating possibility is something I’ve come to believe; hence, the quote is a resource, if not an actual reference that might work its way into the “This I Believe” essay I’ll write along with my students in English 112.
The essays will be modeled after NPR’s national media project, described as “a public dialogue about belief.” I began considering content a few weeks ago.

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