Search Results Tag: min-zhan lu

Mutnick, Deborah. “The Strategic Value of Basic Writing: An Analysis of the Current Moment.”

Mutnick, Deborah. “The Strategic Value of Basic Writing: An Analysis of the Current Moment.” Journal of Basic Writing 19.1 (2000): 69-83. Print.

Summary

In this impassioned essay, Mutnick argues against scholars inside and outside of Basic Writing who call for its abolition. Interestingly, she points out that arguments against BW programs are rooted both within the logics of neoliberalism and in rhetorics against it. She is writing in a historical moment in which the tightening of funding amidst privatization and global financial pressure, in which Basic Writing programs are under attack. She reminds us that, consequently, also under attack is open admissions, affirmative action, and the students of color and working class students who benefit from programs that help to equalize those students’ skills. Essentially, this article is an excellent recap of the political arguments for and against BW programs. As she put it: “To defend basic writing at present means contending both with conservatives who condemn us for allowing underprepared students through the doors of higher education in the first place and those in our own discipline who want to abolish remedial instruction because it stereotypes students and segregates them from the mainstream.“ (71)

She describes important attacks on BW, including Pataki and Giuliani’s January 1999 vote to end remedial education programs at all 11 CUNY 4 year colleges (73). She also cites Nancy Romer, an insider to CUNY politics, who described these cuts as “part of a global economic crisis that has yet to be felt in the United States,” and who had the insight that “Despite a budget surplus in both the city and the state, New York political elites, viewing these ominous economic clouds on the horizon seized the moment to decrease the public domain while expanding opportunities for capital” (qtd. in Mutnick, 73). Meanwhile, in that current political moment, people felt just safe enough, or just scared enough, not to take advantage of on the ground organizing that made space for open admissions in the first place.

Further, Mutnick recounts the then recent disintegration of University of Illinois at Chicago’s “urban mission,” explaining that:

UIC’s new mission statement for the 21st century explicitly rejects its “urban mission,” replacing the phrase with “urban university in a land-grant tradition.” As Severino comments, “The ‘urban mission’ is deemed ‘narrow’ and dismissed; UIC is now more oriented to the world than to its neighborhood” (50). (74)

Further convincing evidence shows Jeb Bush guaranteeing the top 20% of graduating high school students college admission, while striking affirmative action programs down. As she curtly points out, besides the fact that those student would have been admitted anyway, “The conservative doublespeak used to promote cultural diversity while wiping out equal opportunity programs reinscribes social inequalities in the name of fairness” (74). Continuing the evidence, she looks to Stygall’s discussion of changes at University of Washington, whose efforts claimed a “competition model,” but which Stygall see through as actually communicating “goals of privatization, corporatization, outsourcing, and downsizing” (76).

Mutnick recounts, as well, calls for the end of BW from within our field as well, from voices like Bartholomae, who notes the ways in which students may be stigmatized when placed in remedial courses and thought they should instead be mainstreamed. She recalls Karen Greenberg’s support for BW, and her arguments for better skills assessment in order to prevent administrators from attacking BW programs through their own assessments. And, Mutnick describes Shor’s objections in “Our Apartheid,” wherein he argues that Basic Writing programs merely equip underserved populations with the bare minimum skills necessary for making them exploitable, while keeping them unemployable as possible to maintain space for historically empowered workers instead:

Today, he argues, a labor surplus in the American economy caused by globalization and downsizing has created a demand for low-wage service workers rather than college graduates; and basic writing functions to impede graduation rates and channel students into “burger-flipping jobs” (91). Very relevantly, he calls attention to an increasingly obscene disparity of wealth in the U.S.A. and, mirrored in our own profession, the exploitation of part-time adjuncts, graduate assistants, and other “flexible” workers who teach basic writing on the academic margins. (77)

Finally, she cites Min Zhan-Lu as an example of scholars who point out the complexities between discourse varieties and the politics of representation. She head nods to the argument that BW’s tendency to essentialize language in ways that maintain “both standard English and academic discourse as higher forms of communication rather than as socially-constructed varieties of language” (78).

In her conclusion, Mutnick offers several suggestions for actions BW programs might take to fight against neoliberalism while continuing their important advocacy for students of color and others who have historically been excluded from the university in ways that ”place such critiques in political and historical perspective and choose our battles carefully” (79). She argues that we ought:

…to experiment with new models of instruction or support existing successful programs, including WAC, depending on local conditions; to forge partnerships between universities and public schools; to continue to research literacy outside the classroom in a variety of sociohistorical contexts; to participate more actively and effectively in public debates on higher education; and to support the activist agenda of emerging movements…(79)

Lu, Min-Zhan. “Living-English Work.”

Lu, Min-Zhan. “Living-English Work.” College English 68.6 (2006): 605-618. Print.

Summary
In this article, Lu develops the concept of “living English” in opposition to English-only: the former recognizes the fluidity of language, meaning, and expression among and between users of English from varied positionalities and material realities, while the latter assumes a (false) unified standard code of correctness. She opens the article with an account of recent new stories of tongue surgeries in developing nations, where people’s goals are to speak “accent-free English” in order to be more competitive in the global marketplace.

Lu uses a combination of Marxist language and a sense of global context as a way to complicate her discussion of English-only versus living-English. She asks us to look beyond our linguistic and cultural borders as a way to understand the baring of our values on “the planetary scope of the hegemony of English” (612). She asks us to attend to our practices in our classrooms and our scholarship in order to consciously engage with the ideological production of language and its material consequences on a global scale. My own project makes this move of combining political economic concepts and theories of globalization in order to interrogate the impact of Western rhetorics of digital literacies, rather than English-only. Like Lu, I believe we ought to examine texts that reflect the maintenance of and manifestation of rhetorics in which we have a stake as writing teachers and as representatives of the advantaged, or One-Thirds world.

Quotes

English-only efforts involve geopolitical, economic, and cultural transactions.
They aim to control not merely which language can be used, where, and
when, but also and always how that language is to be used by its actual, possible, or imagined users. And they discipline users to be preoccupied with two and only two questions: What counts as correct usage in the eyes of those in positions to withhold educational and job opportunities? How might I best learn to work English strictly according to these rulings? (605)

I am increasingly convinced of my need to see the “popularity” of tongue surgery in “developing” countries as intricately informed by what we in “developed” countries do and do not do when addressing our own and our students’ ambivalence toward English-only rulings. (606)

Furthermore, the only motivation for learning English is to improve one’s career prospects in the capitalist global market. The reports can also serve as reminders that we live in a world increasingly ordered by the interests of “developed” countries such as the United States in globalizing their hypercompetitive, technology-driven market economies, what critics have termed “flexible, information economies” or “fast capitalism” (Castells; Harvey). (607)

Given the currency of such commissions in the current-day United States, all of us in English studies need to wrestle with our charge to produce only bodies (with a particular length of frenulum) and affects (such as tongue-tied or tongue-loose feelings) that are useful for a “biopolitical structuring of the world” according to the “business” logic of “developed” countries (Hardt and Negri 32). We need to raise and pursue two related questions: What gross actions and inactions on our part might have directly and indirectly pressured users of English to see symbolic and surgical fixes as the only viable resolution to their own and their children’s tongue-tied feelings? How might we best go about problematizing English-only rulings on the uses and users of English? (607)

English-only instruction parades the (seldom delivered) promise of ensuring access to wider communication and better educational and job opportunities.
But living-English users weigh dominant stories of what English-only instructions can do for them carefully against what such training has historically done to them and to peoples, cultures, societies, and continents whose language practices do not match standardized English usages. (608)

Living English users also weigh the promise of better educational and job opportunities against what English-only instruction cannot do: it cannot address their needs to use English to articulate-work out meaningful connections across experiences and circumstances of life consistently discredited by standardized English usages. (609)

That is, we need to fight for students’ right to fashion an English that bears the burden of experiences delegitimized by English-only usages. Moreover, we need to “challenge” ourselves to unlearn a “learned” disposition: our fear that attention to the needs and rights to transform standardized usages will interfere with rather than enhance the ability of individuals to learn English. (610)

Living-English users focus energy on how to tinker with the very standardized usages they are pressured by dominant notions of educational and job opportunities to “imitate.” (610)

We need to probe the ways our sense of ease with a particular usage might inadvertently sponsor systems and relations of injustice, even and especially when that usage seems to make normal and standard a particular experience that appears common, natural, beneficial to us. (611)

The four lines of living-English inquiry are in keeping with work in U.S. composition that marks as assets-critical resources-two aspects of individual users’ lives: (1) their actual, often complex, and sometimes conflicting relations with diverse languages and diverse ways of using English; and (2) their interests in using English to articulate aspirations for life that are consistently delegitimized by the logic of global business but critical to the well-being of peoples bearing the cost of existing structures and relations of injustice. (611)

How can I stay vigilant toward my professional training and thus often inadvertent sponsorship of the various English-only fallacies? (611)

the planetary scope of the hegemony of English (612)

How might I put my work in the context of escalating U.S. political and economic interests in harnessing information technology to maintain its global hegemony (Harvey)? (612)

How might U.S. composition articulate a global perspective that attends to rather than blurs the actual, specific, physical-social-historical contexts of individual students’ life and work? (612)

A global perspective on the work of U.S. composition in a world driven by the logic of fast capitalism must address the politics of language practices in scientific, technical, commercial, legal, and administrative writing. (616)

If we continue to sponsor English-only assumptions in our day-to-day practice, chances are that English will be used as a supposedly “neutral” tool for perpetuating the logic of a “free market economy”… (617)

Ritter, Kelly. Before Shaughnessy: Basic Writing at Yale and Harvard.

Ritter, Kelly.  Before Shaughnessy: Basic Writing at Yale and Harvard. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 2009. Print.

Summary

In this recent work, Ritter asks us to move beyond the Shaughnessyan days at SUNY and into a historical analysis of basic writers. Looking to archives from Yale and Harvard in the early half of the 20th century, Ritter reveals that though efforts were made to disguise the fact, even the ivy leagues offered basic writing courses. What she really offers is that basic writers have always been situationally defined, and that anywhere a particular understanding of college-level writing skills is found, there will also be students with varying degrees of preparedness in those skills. Moving beyond 1960′s CUNYfication of basic writers as poor or underprivileged students whose linguistic practices may have been historically repressed, Ritter finds that basic writers are defined contextually. All writers need to be acculturated to the writing demands of their particular university.

Quotes

Basic writing is exclusively an institutional construct, a locally specific course designation that stems from, develops from, and ends with the unique culture of each institution. (9)

The largest problem facing the basic writing student—of past and present, at any institution—is how to become socially and intellectually integrated into the mainstream of his/her institution. (42)

Thus, basic writing studies must be cognizant of its disparate social histories and willing to advocate for writers from elite as well as non-elite backgrounds and institutions. We thus must not isolate basic writers at elite colleges from the larger discussions taking place regarding first-year writing curricula but instead consider their histories and futures in the complicated, often frustrating context of what it means for a student to come to write in college. Further, we need to think about the longitudinal future of composition as a course and a discipline, in particular whether the subdivisions of the first-year writing program do a true service to the field’s mission of educating and producing competent, inquisitive writers for the university setting and beyond. (127)

 

Horner, Bruce, and Min-Zhan Lu. Representing the “Other”: Basic Writers and the Teaching of Basic Writing.

Horner, Bruce, and Min-Zhan Lu. Representing the “Other”: Basic Writers and the Teaching of Basic Writing. Urbana IL: National Council of Teachers of English, 1999. Print.

Introduction: Horner and Lu

In the introduction, the authors explain their hope that the essays, taken together, help readers to understand the discourse of Basic Writing as a historical, political, and socially-situated construct that is productive rather than simply descriptive (xii). Horner and Lu acknowledge the seeming necessity in portraying a kind of unity that would strengthen its position as a recognizable discipline, writing that:

…the key terms by which this discourse establishes itself, while ensuring it a specific kind of legitimacy and authority, simultaneously isolate it from the heterogeneity of positions and forms of power in the larger discursive field. (xiii)

Their essays represent a cultural materialist reading of Basic Writing discourse that acknowledges the interests, assumptions, and consequences thereof on teachers, students, and pedagogies of BW. They articulate a very clear framework for how they understand language, subjectivity, and power (xiii-xiv), paraphrased here:

  1. discourse is a material, social practice that happens among and between relations of power
  2. subjectivity emerges out of conflict and shifts with each encounter
  3. education is situated and constitutive
  4. hegemony acts on individuals, but individuals can act in ways that transform
  5. agency is real-people can work for change, but “in circumstances not of one’s choosing” (xiv)

Ultimately, they want to dodge the notions of fixity that have dominated the discourse on BW, writing that:

In one way or another, all these work to locate basic writing in history: a response to, produced and sustained by, and altering specific social and historical conditions and thus as never fixed but always provisional and strategic, continually involving individuals in renegotiating their positions and their work. (xviii)

Horner: “The ‘Birth of Basic Writing’”

Looking at the political and social circumstances out of which BW emerged during the advent of Open Admissions, Horner points out ways in which BW discourse solidified its own institutional place by silencing many conflicting material realities. While BW work had been done since the conception of composition pre-1900, the heated political conflict arising out of pressures from conservative budgetary politics and intense social activism addressed questions about the basic nature of higher education, its goals, and whom it serves. Horner points out the problematic portrayal of BW students as being primarily of color, noting that:

While the invisibility of white working-class ethnics speaks most obviously to the pervasive blindness of Americans to social class and the persistence of racism, it speaks also and more specifically to the constitutive power within and outside the academy of the public discourse linking minority students, political activism, and academic underpreparedness, a power which made invisible students who might lack both academic preparation and interest in political activism. (9)

He uncovers binaries within the rhetoric: white/of color, academic excellence/academically un(der)prepared, civil and deserving/activist and political, belonging/not welcome. He critiques E & E as it attempts to resolve the binaries, writing that:

The power of Errors and Expectations can be attributed to just such a resolution: showing how students’ errors in many ways result from those resources and this speak not to their illiteracy but their educability. At the same time, the strategy of such a resolution operates within the dominant conceptual framework on education positing the ability to be educated as a cognitive rather than political matter, and it accepts, in however qualified a manner, traditional definitions of that educability. (16)

Finally, Horner explains that the need for mediation led BW scholarship down the difficult road of the practical, noting that:

…while historically the enterprise of basic writing can be seen as foregrounding the politics of how and why one teaches, such a potential is suppressed by the quest fot the practical/realistic, which occludes attention to the political through its focus on “skills.” (21)

Lu: “Conflict and Struggle: The Enemies or Preconditions of Basic Writing?”

Drawing from Anzaldua’s description of the mestiza consciousness in which the pull between two lands manifests an inner conflict out of which real political agency emerges, Lu takes issue with those trends in BW scholarship in which student struggle and resistance is sought to be pacified. She identifies the essentialist view of language, and that of discourse communities, both of which “view all signs of conflict and struggle as the enemy of Basic Writing instruction” (32). Teachers with these theories of language tend to want to accomodate students by recognizing their home discourses and easing fears of distance thereof, or acculturate students by helping them move from one fixed discourse to another. Both views are short-sighted, imperialist, and ultimately silence the conflict and struggle that by rights ought to be the true source of empowerment for these students. She writes:

In short, they sustain the impression that these Experiences ought to and will disappear once the students get comfortably settled into the new community and sever or dismiss their ties with the old. Any sign of heterogeneity, uncertainty, or instability is viewed as problematic; hence conflict and struggle are the enemies of basic writing instruction. (39)

In helping students to establish deep connections with “Western culture,” teachers will promote the possibility of students’ changing their identification with “sub-cultural” views are likely to turn education into an accommodation–or mere tolerance–of the students’ choice or need to live with conflicts. This accommodation could hardly help students explore, formulate, reflect on, and enact strategies for coping actively with conflicts as the residence of borderlands do: developing “tolerance for” and an ability to “sustain” contradictions and ambiguity (Anzaldua 79). Even if teachers explicitly promote the image of “partial deracination,” they are likely to be more successful in helping students unconsciously “lower” and “fix” their roots into “Western culture” then in helping them to keep their roots from being completely “torn out” of “subcultures.” (43)

Lu: “Importing ‘Science’: Neutralizing Basic Writing”

In this article, Lu makes a thorough and complicated analysis of the impetus and consequence of BW’s reliance on sciences such as logical empiricism, the cognitive, and expressive realism, all of which work “as a means of neutralizing the politics of writing, teaching, and research at a time–the 1970s–and an educational site–the basic writing classroom–when the dominant found issues of difference and power most difficult to contain” (56). While these moves helped to establish BW programs in the face of political objection, they served equally to silence stories of real and complex struggle that might have better informed described and informed the teaching of BW.

Looking at ways in which BW scholarship has taken up writers like Burke, Freire, Bernstein, Ohmann, Labov, and Vygotsky, Lu argues that:

… the pervasive move to separate these writers’ thinking on the relations of language, subjectivity, differences, and power from their “scientific” knowledge of linguistic and cognitive structures and then to dismiss the former as “irrelevant” might likewise route Basic Writing’s venture into “science” back into an English dominated by new critical close reading. (62)

The dominance of scientism in these canonical texts indicates that composition’s venture into “science” is in part driven by a concern to maintain the neutrality of the scholar/teacher/researcher at a time when the presumed separation of the academic from the social and political was under fire both within and outside US higher education. Therefore the contribution of the compositionists I have been discussing to the institutional status of Composition in general and Basic Writing in particular must also be reviewed from the stance they take on issues of differences and power. Likewise, the difficulties of bringing the hegemony of empirical/expressive use of language on the discursive scene of Basic Writing’s birth is not only intellectual in the narrow sense but deeply social and historical. (84)

… I have tried to portray the teacher/researcher of basic writing in her function as a dominated within the dominant: riven by her commitment to the interests of students labeled as academic “aliens” and her professional inscription within the dominant. My purpose for retelling this story is to argue that historically, our commitment to posing fairer and more objective portraits of these students has been mediated by social, historical pressures to treat such alternative knowledge as neutral, universal Truth grounded solely in the “reality” inherent in the objects we study and teach–the students and their writing. The “scientific” rhetoric, in occluding our attention to the contradictory political motives and consequences of our research and teaching, has exempted us from the need to rigorously struggle against our alignments with the dominant when addressing issues of differences and power. While commitment to a fairer and more objective representation of the dominated is central to the work of basic writing, we need always to keep in mind, as we demand of our opponents, that “objectivity” and “fairness” are socially, historically constructed concepts and cannot be isolated from the question of who is speaking and to whom, for whom, why, when, and where. That is, if we are to rigorously address issues of differences and power in our research and teaching, we must refuse the tendency to essentialize knowledge, new and alternative or established and hegemonic. (101)

Horner: “Mapping Errors and Expectations for Basic Writing: From the ‘Frontier Field’ to ‘Border Country”

In this essay, Horner traces the rhetoric of the frontier image so frequently peppered throughout BW scholarship. The image not only euphemizes the image of the actual fontier, complete with devestating environmental and human colonization, but also describes basic writers as “new,” or “alien,” and thereby infantalizes or otherizes students whose backgrounds are more complex and have assests in learning academic writing. In contrast to these harmful images, Horner advocates a shift to a “border” image, which he argues:

while introducing new difficulties for teachers and students, effectively resolves the dilemmas posed by earlier conceptions of basic writing by identifying both students and teachers as active participants in negotiations of power and tus improving the expectations of both for the work they face in confronting one another. (118)

Metaphors of the border should be priviledged over those of the frontier, ultimately, because it acknowledges the historical and political circumstance in which academic discourse, teacher identities, and student identities are always in flux, and that the realities of literacy and learning must make visible the dynamics of power (that of both teachers AND students) within which the negotiation takes place. To not acknowledge the agency on both sides it to colonize the already-othered through a “politics of linguistic innocence” described in Lu’s “Refdefining the Legacy of Mina Shaughnessy,” also found in this collection.

Horner: “Re-thinking the ‘Sociality’ of Error: Teaching Editing as Negotiation.”

Confronting the trend in BW scholarship to acknowledge language and conventions as social, but to treat errors as individual and cognitive, Horner seeks to help teachers understand how to teach error as social. Drawing on Sylvia Scribner and Raymond Williams, Horner makes the case that error recognized as such is a social achievement, and that “Any failure in conventions…represents a failure of the parties involved to reach agreement, the rejection of one party of the relationship expressed and/or offered y the other” (141). In other words, a particular construction cannot be recognized unless both parties agree to a particular convention. This highlights basic writing students’ writerly agency, wether they agree with teacher diagnoses of particular constructions as error or no. Horner suggests that establishing error is a process of negotiation, which “is not a matter of one party persuading a second to adopt the position of the first, nor a process of exchange (barter) between two parties, but a process of joint change and learning in which power operates dialectically” (142).

That negotiation occurs in every writing situation indicates, for Horner, the problem in much teaching of basic writing. Many teachers respond to the conflict between their goals of helping students master SWE and their understanding of the political circumstance of BW with a sort of resignation that indicates a view of language as fixed and static. Here he draws on Lu’s “Redefining” to indicated the political consequence of such am understanding of language. He warns, however, against the equally prevalent problem of  ascribing error primarily to cultural difference, as this assumes fixed and distinct cultural groups as well (155). Advocating the use of small group conferences and tailored assignments and class discussions, Horner argues that teaching students to negotiate error presents error as:

something about which they as writers must theorize and make choices, not something they need simply learn about and acquiesce to, though in their theorizing and in their writing they must also confront the theories, rankings, definitions of other readers (including teachers) as well. For such questions would put students in the position to negotiate and renegotiate the concept of “correctness,” including, importantly, the concept of its negotiability. (159)

Lu: “Professing Multiculturalism: The Politics of Style in the Contact Zone”

Challenging both the conception of academic discourse as a discrete, unified code, and hence that of digressions as error, Lu advocates a border pedagogy that empowers students as writers with choice, whose rhetorical decisions represent a negotiation among discourses and reader expectations within a dynamic of unequal power arrangements. As she puts it:

…I am most interested in doing three things: (1) enabling students to hear discursive voices which conflict with and struggle against the voices of academic authority; (2) urging them to negotiate a position in response to these colliding voices; and (3) asking them to consider their choice of position in the context of the sociopolitical power relationships within and among diverse discourses and in the context of their personal life, history, culture, and society. (173)

Lu argues against those teachers who complain that the contact zone is too difficult, speaking of how reliance on “safe houses” can serve to simply reinforce those political consequences against which most BW teachers wish to fight (188). She essentially argues that teaching style as a process of negotiation may lead students to still choose the Standard, but at least they will not do so blindly (180), and that it is up to teachers and students to recognize that the sociality of language described by Honer [my connection, not hers] is precisely what opens the gaps within which we can use our agency to help shift language practices toward a more inclusive reality.

 

 

Hesford, Wendy S., and Eileen E. Schell. “Introduction: Configurations of Transnationality: Locating Feminist Rhetorics.”

Hesford, Wendy S., and Eileen E. Schell. “Introduction: Configurations of Transnationality: Locating Feminist Rhetorics.” College English 70.5 (May 2008): 461-470.

Summary

In the introduction to their guest edited special issue of College English on feminist rhetorics and transnationalism, Schell and Hesford articulate the dire need to attend to the global and transnational in ways that aren’t the colonizing/canon-expanding attempts that comprise most of this effort now (as in our taking up of Anzaldua). They argue that rather than simply passively receiving global theory from others, we can expand what works in our subfields of contrastive rhetoric, comparative rhetoric, and intercultural rhetoric toward our own complex contributions that would do great things for our status and integrity as a discipline. Their special issue is an attempt to get the work started. :)

Quotes

This special issue on feminist rhetorics and transnationalism challenges the disciplinary defining of rhetoric and composition around U.S.-centric narratives of nation, nationalism, and citizenship, including its focus on feminist and women’s rhetorics only within the borders of the United States or Western Europe, and ex-plores its potential complicity in reproducing institutional hierarchies. (463)

Transnationality refers to movements of people, goods, and ideas across national borders and, like the term bonle1′lmul, it is often used to highlight forms of cultural hybridity and intertextuality. To bring a transnational focus to our field will require new methodologies and critical comparativist perspectives, which in turn may shift the objects and areas of study. However, our goal is not to compare cultural or national differences as if they were discrete entities, but to focus on how “different cultures are transformed by their contact and interaction with each other” (Rowe 25). Additionally, we need to become more reflective about the “American” aspects of our work and how, in defining and sustaining our discipline, we often slip into nationalist rhetorics on the one hand and uncritical cosmopolitanisms on the other hand. (463)

Scholars invested in studying rhetoric in cross-cultural and “international” contexts-not necessarily transnational contexts-have relied on three main areas of rhetorical inquiry: comparative rhetorics, contrastive rhetorics, and intercultural communication/rhetorics. All three areas offer potentially useful rhetorical meth-ods and methodologies, but they all could benefit from 1) questioning the ways in which the nation-state and Western rhetorical tradition(s) are still the originary units of analysis, and 2) addressing a larger understanding of transnational connectivities that condition practices of rhetoric across and within the borders of the nation-state. (464)

 

Lu, Min-Zhan. “Redefining the Legacy of Mina Shaughnessy: A Critique of the Politics of Linguistic Innocence.”

by Rachael
Published on: September 24, 2011
Comments: No Comments

Lu, Min-Zhan. “Redefining the Legacy of Mina Shaughnessy: A Critique of the Politics of Linguistic Innocence.” Landmark Essays on Basic Writing. Eds. Kay Halasek and Nels Highberg. Mahwah, NJ: Hermagoras Press, 2001. 57-67. Print.

Summary

In this essay, Lu exposes Shaughnessy’s underlying theory of language- one that presumes what she terms “linguistic innocence.” This ToL treats language as inert, a vehicle for expressing whatever unified nugget of meaning the speaker intends, assuming “that linguistic codes can be taught in isolation from the production of meaning and from thee dynamic power struggle within and among diverse discourse” (59). Lu explains that while one of the goals of Shaughnessy’s pedagogy (an admirable one worth preserving) is to help student feel empowered to choose when to use which code, the notion of linguistic innocence can undermine that very goal as it fails to help students adequately understand the potential costs and benefits of the codes from which they choose in any given situation. She reveals that this pedagogy may prevent students from recognizing the same issue that Fox pointed out, that education is in some ways a violence upon student consciousness, one that has costs as well as advantages, and “as a result, her pedagogy enacts a systematic denial of the political context of students’ linguistic choices” (65).

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