Shafted by Schaffer

First things first, I’m pretty glad that this title wasn’t taken yet. It kind of feels like low-hanging fruit but hey… I guess I’m not above that.

Usually I read quietly, but some things elicit stronger reactions than others. For example, when I got to the Red Wedding chapter in A Song of Ice and Fire, it was all I could do not to tear the book in half and throw it across the room. David Sedaris makes me laugh so much that I basically end up reading aloud to whoever is (un)fortunate enough to be sitting near me. I’ve been so shocked by some plot twists that I audibly gasp, but this time, it wasn’t a novel or drama blowing my mind. It was Wiley’s article.

As I learn more about the art of teaching, I can look back on my past experiences and recognize the tactics my teachers used. Few things have been so glaringly resonant as the great Five Paragraph Essay, however. Of course, that was the general standard format that we pretty much all learned in middle school. My high school teachers, however, prescribed to Schaffer’s method with precision.

Every year, English classes culminated in research papers. Some classes got to choose their own topics based on general themes, like “controversial issues,” and some were all assigned to the same one, like “bullying.” No matter what, though, everyone wrote with the same exact format. The research papers were pretty much the biggest assignment in every English class, playing a large role in whether or not a student would pass the class. In this respect, I can understand that the teachers wanted to find a way to make things as easy as possible for everyone involved. Maybe the structure would simplify the process for both writing and grading, reducing the risk of failure. And maybe it did– but I can’t help but remember the whole thing bitterly.

The details are a little fuzzy (I guess I’ve been working on blocking it out until now), but the entire affair was so minutely detailed from the very start. Once the topic was chosen, we had manila folders that we pasted little pockets into. We had to find a certain number of sources, for which we then filled out MLA format slips. We made an absurd amount of “notecards,” index cards with quotes and facts that would become our Concrete Details. These were sorted into the pockets, organized by source, paragraph, etc. For each Concrete Detail we wrote Commentary, Commentary. Topic Sentence, Concluding Sentence, blah blah blah. We basically ended up coming up with every sentence, citation, and all other facets separately over the course of a couple weeks. Teachers checked our work at every stage, and everything everyone did had to be exactly the same, down to the little numbers and markers on your notecards. Eventually, everything was combined to form the paper, which was then graded by a very strict rubric that was heavy on structure and not so concerned with actual content.

So yes, we all wrote a paper. But, like… Did we? To me, it felt and now especially feels that we may have physically gone through the process of putting words on paper and handing it in, but that we did not really say anything. Not much, at least. Schaffer’s method was so insistent on mechanics and minutiae that it got in the way of actual communication and cohesiveness. I remember peer editing some of my classmates’ work and reviewing my own and seeing that all the parts were there, but something was missing. Where would you put that “something” in Schaffer’s scaffolding though, even if you found it? The nature of the paper was offensive to my personal tendencies, so I resented it. I’ve never been hyper-organized like that, or necessarily even regular-organized, so it was a challenge. I am more of a “gardener” than an “architect”, and though the style manuals may condemn it I have an unfortunate proclivity for verbosity. The strictness and explicit step-by-step approach without any wiggle room felt stifling, and I know many of my classmates felt the same way. It’s just not possible that the hundreds of students all did their best working in this one specific manner.

As I said, it was like this every year. We did write other types of essays and papers, but the research paper was the really big deal. Going from this to college, where every paper seems (at least at first) like a really big deal, it seems a natural inclination that they should also be written that way. The problem is, from my experience, that’s not what professors have actually ever really wanted.

Just from comments our classmates have made this semester, I know that while not every school may have pounded Schaffer’s method quite so hard, it’s a widely shared experience: we get hammered with format and grammar and all that for years, then suddenly we are expected to think. Structure is not necessarily so important anymore, but your argument is. Certain preferences vary from teacher to teacher, and that’s just in English– of course there are so many more things to worry about in different areas like science or business or theater. Now, though, it’s a little frightening to break out of. Sometimes I think we might almost be better off starting from scratch.

I know our lovely faculty are doing their part to change things up, but I also know my high school is still continuing to go about the research papers the same way. I’d be interested to see how many others still are as well, and to what degree– or to see where they are also leaving Schaffer behind. Since joining the English program here at Chico State, I’m really beginning to see just how complex composition and this whole matter is and what an interesting stage it is at; I can’t wait to see where it goes.