Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Uptaught Response I

     Ken Macrorie's Uptaught is thus far a compelling read.  I've never quite come across anything like it in terms of its content and transference of its content through structure and examples.  I really enjoyed the structure and the examples he used to reinforce his points about experiential writing.  In reading the first half of Macrorie’s decade-sweeping account, I came across a number of ideas I was surprised a professor of higher education would make claim to. 
            In reference to the basic form and function of college-level composition and what seems to be the expected role of the English professor, he declares, “[t]his dehydrated manner of producing writing that is never read is the contribution of the English teacher to the total university” (8).  Unabashed in his assertion, Macrorie challenges himself and other academics to all but disregard the emphasis put on the logistical requirements of writing as a means to represent the overall quality of what is written.  I like this idea and would love nothing more than to follow it through the remaining weeks of my undergrad, but I feel like it is too casual and its adoption would limit my post-grad options.  A true writer should put more focus on writing from experience than they should on making sure each requirement is fulfilled, yes.  But becoming a successful writer seems like so much more of a reality with a thorough education.  The written requirements of academic research and other papers are demanded of students in receiving such instruction.  It is by no means a perfect system.
            I like Macrorie’s idea that his students’ fragmented and disjointed writing was better and more alive than any obligatory writing they had done in prior courses (20).  Not paying too much attention to sentence syntax and structure allowed his students to open up and write about what they could see and feel.  The aliveness of sense-centered writing is what really proves its worth and superiority to some of the most eloquent, but dry academic writing.  This creativity is lost in the hierarchy of English education from elementary to intermediate to high to collegiate level studies.  Macrorie sums up this devaluated movement as sort of passing the buck to the next educator in line (52).  Students are expected to learn certain rules and principles in preparation of their ensuing education.  But what prepares us for writing in the real world once our institutional education has come to a close?  The majority of students will be ill equipped for what is expected of them in their future careers because of the lack of creativity and value in higher education writing.
            Macrorie’s small section on sin and correction as a holy duty was a favorite passage if no other reason than because it is so applicable to my life.  Incorrect spelling and misuse of words is a peeve of so many academically oriented with the English language.  I am constantly correcting people’s mistakes whether it be in a paper or over a text message.  These things just must be fixed.
            Macrorie brought up an interesting point about avoiding clichés in writing, where he expected his students to come up with something on their own instead of using recycled phrasing.  I have always had a difficult time with this, namely because I do not want to replace a commonly known phrase with a string of words I think others will understand but really they only make sense in my own head.  I run into this constantly.  Well put, “[i]t’s both a pressure and a privilege to be here” (83).
            Finally, it was refreshing to hear a figure of academic prestige state transcripts and test scores are not proper estimations of a student’s abilities.  Sure, there has to be some way to measure this ability within a large pool of students.  Grades have somewhat of an ability to do that, especially when surveying candidates for specified education, but they cannot be the only means of appraisal (93).  Graduate school requires the personal essay and employers will sometimes give applicants a test run.  But so many fall through the cracks and what might be potential success is ignored entirely.  There has to be some other outlet for this group.

          Here's an interesting study of the relationship between analytical and creative writing.

2 comments:

  1. I think it is interesting that you bring up correcting people's text messages. People often make fun of me if I do something incorrect in a text because I am an English Major, which to me has always been a lot of pressure. I like Macrorie's approach because it elevates some pressure from those of us that are less grammatically correct, which is the camp I definitely fall under. As for the cliches. I often get made fun of for being similar to a Hallmark card, which although seems like a silly joke is something insulting for us English Majors. Which makes me wonder, what makes us good English Majors? Is it our ability to speak Engfish or is it our ability to understand when Engfish is being used? Or is it the ability to maneuver around these different forms of Inglesh gracefully and without thought? I am extremely confused, which I think a good book should always leave you feeling that, but I want to know how we can apply this today?

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    1. I think what makes us good English majors is being able to realize there is more than one English language we adapt to different sects of our lives. I'm not saying we are multi-lingual in this regard, but I feel like I speak in several tongues throughout the day with different people. I talk much differently in class than I do at work, and much differently with my friends than I do with family. I think even non-English majors do this, but we have the tools we need to realize it at even a base academic level. Each of us will contribute to the English-centric world in varied ways after graduation, but we will share a similar comprehension of the spoken and written word and the differences between them.

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