Though I’ve only been teaching for a few years, I’ve learned which pedagogical approaches work best in my classroom. For starters, I am a firm believer in what Mary Pratt calls the “contact zone,” social spaces in which “cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical relations of power, such as colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths as they are lived out in many parts of the world today” (34). Thus, I am most concerned with how my students interact with texts that are rooted in conflict, and how they navigate the sociopolitical landscape. I believe it is my job as an instructor to facilitate discussion, rather than simply lecture on a topic, and I want my students to represent themselves through their own discourse rather than the discourse of others. This is not to say that I do not value lecturing as a pedagogical strategy, but that I strive to create a space where student voices dominate the discussion. In short, I want my students to become producers of knowledge, as opposed to mere receivers. I want them to understand that while they are my audience, I am also theirs. Learning, in my opinion, is a quid pro quo endeavor.
In order to expose students to a multiplicity of voices, I structure my courses so that students read texts from myriads of cultures and viewpoints. For example, students are challenged to deconstruct difficult academic prose, understand the nuances of Latino poetry, and decipher sociopolitical undertones in African-American cinema. I am a firm believer that in order to become a better writer, you must first become an avid reader, and I aim to engender this appreciation, if not love, for critical reading in my students. In addition to reading critically, I want students to practice writing critically by responding to texts in both traditional and multimodal formats. And because I highly value creativity, I encourage students to compose responses that incorporate their own lived experiences and cultures. Students must also engage with the responses of others in my courses, and a large component of their grade is determined by how well they respond to the viewpoints of their peers (and me) both in-class and outside of class via blog posts. Yet writing and responding in the contact zone does not come without risks. Thus, I begin each semester with a discussion of netiquette, and am always working to build and promote a safe class environment.
A typical day in my classes begins with a writing prompt pertaining to the assigned reading followed by a discussion of the text. I then connect the text to the aspect of the composing process we are focused on, showing students how the form of the text and the meaning it conveys are intertwined. For example, if we are discussing Eduardo C. Corral’s poem, “In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes,” I ask students to think about the ways in which the poem states a thesis and defends it like a traditional essay. And though I design specific lesson plans for each day, I do not restrict myself to a single plan of action. For instance, if the class is discussing Corral’s use of borderland metaphors, I might turn to the Internet for a commercial or documentary clip illustrating borderlands in popular culture. Above all else, I want students to see how knowledge is constructed collaboratively, politically, and multimodally as an ongoing process of meaning-making.
The composing process for me is thus process-based, as opposed to merely product-based, though I do emphasize the need for finely-polished final “products” depending on the audience. Revision is a crucial component in my courses, and the papers my students write undergo many drafts before they are turned in for a final grade. In my Spring 2018 Composition 1102 class, for example, I required that my students write four shorter response essays on “dystopian” texts covered that semester. Though the essays were short (no more than two pages) I wanted these essays to be some of the best pieces of writing my students had composed. Thus, I required that my students revise each paper a minimum of three times, focusing first on broad aspects of the essay – such as thesis statements – before polishing for grammatical and syntactical clarity. Above all else, I want my students to understand that writing, like all skills and arts, is not “learned” overnight; rather, writing takes repetition and revision, scrutiny and reflection. As Anne Lamott says in her essay “Shitty First Drafts,” “[a]lmost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something—anything—down on paper. What I’ve learned to do when I sit down to work on a shitty first draft is to quiet the voices in my head” (Lamott). Like Lamott, I believe that students need to understand that even the most experienced writers write bad first drafts, and the reason why they are fantastic writers is because they do not give up on these drafts – they revisit them over and over again. By teaching writing as a process that is really never totally complete, I want my students to view writing as a techne that is as organic and prone to change as the communities they are a part of. I want my students to leave my courses with the critical skills necessary to question, think, and write about a continually-evolving world.
By addressing issues pertinent to a society that is continually in flux, my courses strive to satisfy both the Georgia State University mission statement and university objectives. As a heavily diverse research institution, Georgia State is committed to “solving complex issues ranging from the most fundamental questions of the universe to the most challenging issues of our day,” and it is my goal that my courses function to get my students thinking about these issues. And by emphasizing multimodality, my courses uphold GSU’s commitment to innovative undergraduate scholarship. I truly believe that succeeding as a teacher means equipping my students with the necessary skills to not only think critically about complex issues but to become leaders in their communities, to create texts that truly improve their world.
Joshua L. Martin 