Natural Selection

The three chapters from this week's reading by Constance Weaver, Grammar to Enrich and Enhance Writing, were in some ways both affirming and cautionary to me. As I read the 12 principles of teaching grammar on the inside cover of this book, I found many of them lined up with what I (inadvertently, at least) would consider were steps or revelations in my experience in learning how to write effectively. I felt caution while reading over them, however, because I feel like in some ways my teaching ability is hampered by this naturalized, wild method of fostering knowledge of grammatical principles.

Put another way, I feel like much of my knowledge of good writing skills occurred in spite of, and not from, actual classroom instruction. For example, I can attribute much of my ability as a writer coming from two principles that Weaver: three, which states that grammar comes from “literacy-rich and language-rich environments,” and five, where grammar is “expanded through reading and in conjunction with writing.” I learned early on through reading that sentence structures should be varied, that connecting words were essential to paragraph transitions, that a good “hook” catches a reader’s attention, and on and on. Then I applied these things to my writing, both in and out of school.

On the other hand, when or even if the things that I had gleaned from reading and writing on my own were taught to me in school, they ended up being confusing or contradictory. I can remember a friend of mine in tenth grade, who for her final paper wrote a very eloquent essay on a topic of her choosing. This upset the teacher to begin with, since she disapproved of students formulating their own theses, and she told my friend that “This is too smart for high school. Too wordy. Tone it down.” This was beyond baffling to me. We had been taught about how to create arguments, support them with the text, and use language appropriately. Yet when my friend implemented these things successfully in her work—above and beyond the call of duty— she was condemned for it.

I know that, since my experience with grammar cultivated in school was so negative, I need to move towards a classroom of grammar naturalized. I agree wholeheartedly with Weaver when she says that teachers need to move beyond “basics first” or “programmed” teaching. Students need to be challenged. Though they might protest, I think that most might grudgingly agree that a challenging class is more interesting than a boring one. They need to know that they might not “get” everything yet, but that they can figure out more and more as they keep broadening their experiences in reading and writing.

When I reflect back upon my experience as a student, my teachers were trying their hardest to teach grammar in its proper context. Their success seemed defendant upon how much their were willing to trust their students to learn—on their own—to read and write. In a way, trusting your students is a relinquishment of control that I think the more traditional, old school teachers feared. From experience, I know that grammar in context works; my fear is, though, that I will be unsuccessful in showing students the value of reading and writing for its own sake as well as to prepare them for the real world. In short, motivation. My dilemma then, is cultivating (ironically) something that I derived naturally.