In Brandt’s chapter two, “Writing for the State,” there is a clear connection made to chapter one’s idea of a ghostwriter’s inability to relinquish the emotional costs that are not deferred, or distributed with the transfer of work produced. One of the observations made in chapter two is that of an individual’s inability to write themselves out of work produced (86). This idea worked into our classroom discussion of whether to write ourselves into a paper or just get the job done for the grade, especially when there is no interest in the subject matter. It seemed like for most the public workers interviewed, they did not mind the writing in their field of expertise, so there was no lack of interest, but they felt it was too difficult to remove their voice. The contradiction of having a human write for the “state” or “government” but as a nonhuman element made it difficult for the workers to not use any of their own self. But the government knows how messy this can be: “Most intriguing is how government, including the courts, readily recognizes the intimate intermingling of the writer subjectivity with institutional mission as the dangerous mix that potentially undermines the government’s voice when employees speak out in the public domain and the political arena” (87). This intermix of human writing for a nonhuman entity will always have some form of human interference, but the government’s concern is to play a role to limit it.

We talked about how writing and teaching at the CSU level is constricting and limiting to both teachers and students. A student’s voice is rarely heard in a place where they feel that they are trying to appease the teacher. Likewise, professor’s feel the constraints of the administration. It raised the important question, do we have any reading without constraints? It seems like there is always some sort of filtering. We are almost always reading it for a reason other than our own. But constraints are sometimes good when thought of for something like creative writing. This is because it forces a form on the writer, or a lens to help write in. Where the opposite effect would seem to be limiting a creative writer, certain constraints actually apply parameters that allow the writer narrow their focus to just writing, instead of form or subject. Too much freedom can often result in a lack of focus.

Chapter two also gave examples of how even the most scientific and self-removed writing can still be misinterpreted and skewed to fit the reader’s intentions, ultimately to influence an audience for someone else’s own agenda. This was the case with the writings of the scientist Melinda Lucas, who was a part of a complex thirty year “unbiased” study. She describes the complexities of her study and how everything she reports and deals with is just data. But when it is “rerepresented” (68) by media or other special interest groups, its interpretation is skewed by  someone else’s agenda. In her case, a group wanted to use the data to save jobs, but we can see that even the most removed writing from the human bias can still be used and manipulated for others agendas and unprofessional interpretation.

The chapter finished with the idea that “There is no Occupational Safety and Health Administration for literacy” (87) to with help an individual writer who is writing for government in some form. Instead individuals like the police officer Henry Pine turned his writing into a means of releasing the emotional baggage by using his writing and record keeping as a way to transform daily experiences at his job into a journal to help export some of the psychological strain from himself to the actual report itself.

 

One of the moments that resonated with me the most when reading Deborah Brandt’s The Rise of Writing: Redefining Mass Literacy was one that was briefly addressed in the class discussion. In the section on ownership Brandt states, “In the workplace, authorship is associated not with writing a text but with managing the writer. The work-made-for-hire doctrine has been the object of considerable commentary by legal scholars” (Brandt 21). During the classroom discussion on this particular section the idea of its relation to students was brought up. The question of where students fall into this model provides for an interesting discussion. Considering students under this model is problematic for a number of reasons the first of which is it contradicts the apparent purpose of the school as an institution. While there have been multiple theorists who posit that schools, as institutions, only serve to model proper behavior in citizens, particularly compliance and the ability to follow orders (I’m thinking Althusser but am not positive I have the right theorist). However, if we take the purpose of the school to enlighten or to facilitate literacy or education for the sake of human betterment, which is the purpose argued by many to be the purpose of schools, then the for-hire model of authorship is deeply problematic. If using the latter model and schools are intended to be places of growth and actual learning, rather than of conditioning and conformity, the notion that the institution is employing a work-for-hire model of authorship goes against the purpose it claims to serve.

The idea that the institution is concerned with managing the writer rather than with the writing itself suggests that while the institution might look to serve a positive function, it really is functioning in a way more akin to Althusser’s model. If the school is concerned with managing the writer and not with facilitating new writing, or ideas, this suggests that the purpose of the institution is to constrain creativity and to create compliant workers intended to churn out texts/works for a power bigger than them (schools, employers, etc…). While it might not be outwardly apparent that this happens in schools, I think most students would testify to the contrary. While there are always going to be constraints on the writing done within a classroom setting, it must fit the curriculum at the very least, these constraints are often taken in unnecessary or seemingly excessive ways. One of the prime examples that comes to mind is students being forced to conform to obtuse writing standards that limit both the content and form of the students’ work. This reinforces traditional literacy practices and asserts that there is only one correct way to write, which in turn reinforces behavior most desirable for traditional capitalistic model of employment in which those who toe the line are much more sought after than those who can creatively problem solve. In short what I am attempting to say is that rigid guidelines, and managing of the writer, serve a purpose if the school is intended to churn out more worker bees for hive, but run counter to purpose of the school if it is supposed to be a place of actual learning and intellectual advancement.

Intro & Chapter 1 of The Rise of Writing: Redefining Mass Literacy by Deborah Brandt

The introduction of Deborah Brandt’s The Rise of Writing brings up the idea that digital technologies and digital literacies are responsible for a rise in daily mass writing. Accompanying this is the emergence of the so called knowledge or information economies that aren’t based in “manufacturing things so much as services–knowledge, ideas, data, information, news” (3). One claim Brandt brings up is, “For perhaps the first time in the history of mass literacy, writing seems to be eclipsing reading as the literate experience of consequence” (3).  Brandt then wonders about the implications of a mass shift from a reader based perspective into a writing based economy. While the historical value of writing has lied in the reading of it, authorship then takes on a different prestige as society starts to develop a more formative role in its written literacies. One distinction Brandt brings up in her sponsors of literacies is the idea that reading is more often associated with, “leisure, pleasure, worship, intimacy, and social approval and writing more readily with work, adult business, trouble, embarrassment, subterfuge, and trauma” (6). She also notes the role of the workplace in catalyzing changes in written literacies. Writing for Brandt, implies a much more controlled and regulated act than that of its counterpart reading and that is reflected in the role of writing in the workplace:

It became connected not to citizenship but to work, vocation, avocation, and practical living. Writing belonged to the transactional sphere, the employment and production sphere, where high-vaulted values of personal autonomy, critical expression, or civic activism rarely found traction and where, in fact, unauthorized writing could well lead to recrimination, if not incrimination. Rather than being protected in the Bill of Rights, the people’s writing came to be regulated by contract, labor law, and copyright, as writing skills were rented out as part of production  and profit making. (2)

This is a rather curious observation that Brandt has brought up and it is ever more apparent that with the development of the internet, literacy has started to shift more into a written based economy. Especially with the development of social networks, email, and text messaging, written literacies are being utilized much more often than they ever were previously .

However, despite the spillover of written literacies into the practical and leisurable realms of society, writing still operates and functions under a economic productivity brought about by government and business. Brandt talks about the roles of ghostwriting and copywriting through which successful people and higher realms of power subordinate their written literacies onto those that labor and author the written work. This practice brings up the idea of authorship and who truly owns the writing that is being produced and circulated. Brandt says, “Indeed, the idea that a text belongs to the person who writes it is not the only concept of authorship that can be found in current US copyright law. When it comes to writing undertaken within the scope of employment–in other words, the writing done by most people in society–copyright turns inside out under a provision called “Work Made for Hire,” the law is careful to sever writers from ownership claims over the texts that they write at work” (20). With this in mind, authorship takes on a more convoluted and conflicting stance giving ownership of literacy to the company or business.

The role of ghost-media-social networking is a similar issues that raises questions of authorship, intent, and accreditation and leads one to question the true author of the work. We see the roles of ghostwriting as well in law and in politics as ghostwriting, “especially highlights power exchanges between writing and social structures, and also illuminates assumptions about underlying reading and writing processes that enable such changes” (31). In a sense, the act of writing in a work or school based environment is a laborious act and those that dictate the content (teacher, lawyer, politician) possess the power over the work.  

What do we want to say about literacy studies so far…

literacy practices

literacy events

sponsors and sponsorship

new literacies

context

social practices

social nature of writing

the great divide

oral vs written cultures and texts

civilized vs primitive

othering and east/west binary

our own literacy practices

digital literacies

situated literacies

autonomous

ideological

assimilation

“standard”

disrupting the idea of standards

bidialectalism vs bilingualism

rising literacy standards/changing practices

Reading Summary: Lessons from Research with Language-Minority Children

Moll and Gonzalez (1994) use four language minority examples to explore and advocate for utilization of various literacies for accessing knowledge resources and extending beyond the limited, learning boundaries of the “typical” classroom. The author’s first, and ideal, example of such an approach is represented in the intricate, pedagogically innovative, and resource rich Spanish-English bilingual, elementary school in Arizona. Students jump between different linguistic mediums to “accomplish personal, academic, or intellectual tasks” (440). Although likely spruced up by the authors’ wording, students are conducting practices crucial to even higher education. Such examples force me to reflect on my own education in comparison and wonder what the heck I was doing.

The structure of this educational program seems to push students to take advantage of all social, cultural, and literate resources to expand beyond the limitations of the classroom. To encourage broader and more practical knowledge, Moll and Gonzalez explain that it’s necessary to take advantage of the “funds of knowledge” located within local communities.

These “funds of knowledge” are represented in the rich and diverse range of skills and knowledge held by members of the community, ranging from gardening, to mechanical work, to music, to cultural traditions, to medicine, etc. Spurred by a variety of needs/purposes, it was discovered that some innovative students from working class backgrounds picked up mechanical or mercantile skills. In one instance, one parent’s musical abilities were gradually incorporated to improve the educational experience of students. These examples emphasize the “potential that can be harnessed by transcending the boundaries of the school and making inroads into the funds of knowledge of the community” (446).

The second example explores how instructors guided (through questions and discussion facilitation) students use of language to access various sources of knowledge and help them “develop a collaborative approach to science” (446). These resources of knowledge were not only instructors, but also fellow students. Similarly, the third example delves into how instructors facilitated cooperation between students and teachers for research practices. Students were “shown the ropes,” given responsibility and respect of peers to execute an educational, class-external, purposeful task.

The authors’ fourth example takes a look at another, bilingual (English and Navajo), student-centered curriculum aimed at developing “the children’s concept and problem-solving abilities in the context of culturally salient experiences and topics, while promoting competency in Navajo and English” (450). Through the bilingual approach of inquiry-based tasks, “it allowed children, through their own interactions and explorations to use their knowledge to solve new problems” (450). Through this culturally integrated and learning-active approach, researchers were able to more effectively encourage multiple literacies and respect learners’ identities.

The authors assert that “none of these innovations will last unless teachers are able to overcome the intellectual limits of traditional schooling for these children” (451). Teachers and students need to go beyond the walls of the classroom, take advantage of various “inside” (imagined) and “outside,” (real) knowledge resources and create innovative, practical and meaningful ways (like projects) to apply them (452). With these wide arrays of literacies, language minorities need to be seen possessing assets, rather than deficiencies. Their backgrounds should be acknowledged, respected and incorporated into the learning process if we intend to improve the effectiveness of education.

Personal Thoughts

Even with English as the lingua franca of the world, the U.S. will gradually learn how much it’s missing out on economically, and personally by not becoming better acquainted with the rest of the world, its languages and associated cultures.

In particular, the authors emphasize this approach for the “working class,” but I can’t help but feel that this approach should be seriously considered for all socio-economic and educational levels. Perhaps the authors were implying that those of a higher ‘class,’ receive or have access to such resources and “working-class” do not, or those on the ‘upper’ scale either receive it and/or have such entitlements later that such skills aren’t necessary later in students’ futures.

While I agree with the advocation of the authors, I can’t help but think that this dated mentality should now be pretty common in education, even though there are not as many funded programs exercising this ideal. As someone who is more pedagogically focused, I agree with the authors’ viewpoint, but I can’t help but feel it’s necessary to express how groundbreaking but demanding such a program would be for educational institutions, their instructors, students, and parents. To support the demands of such a program, participation of the local community would be essential in promoting its success.

I’m all for the innovation of educational approaches, “mainstream” and for language minorities, but the mere fact that we are having these conversations about learning forces me to ask: have we have become so embedded with pedagogically time and cost efficient practices of standardized education that we’re so distanced from the actual purpose of education and diverse, equally beneficial (if not potentially better) alternative approaches to facilitating purposeful and fulfilling learning? Should we not then be directing bigger questions toward our educational system?

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Class response to article.