Tuesday, January 5, 2016

WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?: RESPONDING TO WRITING

by Colln Kinner
 Creative Commons License




Writing is hard.

We struggle to make ourselves visible.
We wrestle with memories, experiences, and everyday living.
We heal ourselves, we expose ourselves---and we hide.

Writing is personal.

We drain our veins.
The blank page welcomes our greatest joys, our deepest secrets, and our unsuspected fears.
No one else can tell our individual, unique stories.

Writing is satisfying.

We silently cheer  when we find just the right word.
We sigh with relief and release when it ends.
We grow a bit taller and glow a bit brighter when a reader gets what we are trying to do,


What is the writer trying to do?

That becomes the crucial entry point into the writing of another.
.
Our first action, if we are sincere about reading and responding in a useful, supportive, and generative way, is to find out what the writer is trying to do.

What is the overarching vision held by this writer for this piece of writing?
What is her intention as she writes?
What comprises her content?
What  form or genre is used to present her ideas?
What  structure or framework supports and undergirds her work?

What is she trying to do?

Ignoring these questions results in feedback that is less than helpful at the very least and dismissive at its worse. In  my own experience, responses that do not begin with these questions and honor the answers leaves the writer with little direction for moving forward.

To support us as we ask this crucial question, Peter Elbow, in a memo to the Marist College Writing Center on responding to writing, suggests asking students to write a brief piece describing what they as writers are trying to do, where they are is in this process--contextualizing the writing, so that it can be  considered in its intended context..

Therefore if I have to write substantive comment on student papers, I try to ensure that I can do so on the basis of some information from them about “where they are at” with this paper. That is, I ask for a short piece of “process writing” or “writer’s log” or “cover letter” with any major assignment. I ask them to tell me things like: what they see as their main points; the story of how they went about writing and what it was like for them as they were writing; how did they get their ideas; what were some of the choices they made; which parts went well or badly for them; were there any surprises; and above all what questions they have for readers. If it is a revision it’s particularly helpful to ask what changes they made and why. Reading the cover letter usually helps me decide what to say in my comment. Often I can agree with much of what the student has said--sometimes even being more encouraging about the essay than the student was. With process writing, my comment is not the start of a conversation about the writing but the continuation of a conversation that the student started. (Italics added by blog author)

In concluding his memo, he explains why this contextualized consideration is important:

... In my view, these are the things that in the end are least likely to waste our time or cause harm: to get students to want to write; to read what they write with good attention and respect; to show them that we understand what they have written--even the parts where they had trouble getting their meaning across; and respecting them and the dialogue to tell them some of our thoughts on what they are writing about. Surely what writers need most is the experience of being heard and a chance for dialogue.


If you are new to responding to the writing of students or fellow writing group members, most universities offer practical strategies and principles.  A small sampling of what is available includes: The University of Michigan, Harvard University, and The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

The National Writing Project also offers a wealth of articles and other resources about responding to writing.

In Writing to Learn: Strategies for Assigning and Responding to Writing Across the Disciplines: New Directions for Teaching and Learning, editors Mary Deane Sorcinelli and Peter Elbow offer us a variety of alternative, creative, and sometimes unusual strategies for considering and responding to  writing by others.


What is the writer trying to do?


As a writer, not asking me this question, or asking me and then ignoring the answer, is a rejection of my work.

The first publishing company to which I sent my book proposal for Deeper Writing, sent me 30 pages of feedback ( yea!), a lot of it positive and complimentary toward my work (also yea!).  Yet, they ignored my intentions-- my answer to the crucial question.

I was writing a book of writing prompts or suggestions.  The book assumed the reader/teacher knew how to teach writing, manage writing workshop and so forth.  This was clearly stated in the introduction.

Yet, this company, despite all the positivity, wanted me to write a " how-to" for writing workshop.-- rejection of my intentions and my work.

What do we do with  rejection?  
In a previous post. Rejection Letters, I considered this related question.


What do we do when what we are trying to do is ignored?

Corwin, my publisher, on the other hand, asked this question and helped me achieve my intentions.


What is the writer trying to do?


Today's Deeper Writing Possibilities


What are you trying  to do in your writing?

When was the last time someone asked you this question?

When was the last time this question should have been asked, but was not?

Write about the effect on your writing and you as a writer.





Wednesday, December 16, 2015

REVISITING HUMANS OF NEW YORK



I have been fascinated by the Humans of New York (HONY) project since its inception in 2010, as documented in my previous post: Humans of New York: a Photographic Census.  

There is a new book with expanded stories to accompany images. And now even little ones can join in the HONY project with the recent picture book.
   

I continue to be drawn to the images and accompanying quotes and stories as Brandon Stanton travels  our world, providing us with faces to illuminate the complex  news stories bombarding us from every direction.

I continue to be provoked to deeper thought about current events and issues as I read brief stories of individuals who are involved, immersed, or impacted  by these same events and issues.

Most recently he has shown us the divergent faces of Syrian refugees.


Not everyone is a fan, however.

Critics range from appreciating the fact that these photos and stories are not journalism, yet are able to take us beyond the headlines, to openly recognizing the pull on our heartstrings, to hard critics who judge them to be mere caricatures and stereotypes, sentimental and shallow.

In the Problem with Humans of New York, Daniel D'Addario voices his concerns about the decontextualized and stereotypical nature of the presentation:
In the world of Humans of New York, however, humans are actually caricatures. The people Stanton photographs are reduced to whatever decontextualized sentence or three he chooses to use along with their photo. And so the nattily dressed Klein, cigar in hand, lectures us about how we should all follow our dreams, while the woman whose photo was posted near his tells us that she wants things at work, where she's under the boss's thumb, done "my way." But both photographs and "stories," as Stanton calls them, even if they are a mere sentence, exist to fulfill stereotypes; the evidently rich fellow gets to brag about his achievements, the nonwhite woman gets to complain about her lot in life.

 Melissa Smyth, in Sentimentality: a Critique of Humans of New York attacks the curated lens of sentimentality through which we are invited to view these images:
Sentimentality offers an escape from the difficult conclusions that must come from honest scrutiny of social reality in the United States. In today’s media landscape, photographs most viscerally ferry this indolence, for the nature of the medium facilitates sentiment’s purpose: to obscure the operative social structures with cloying cases of the individual.... 
The problem with sentimentality here is not the infusion of emotion into a political issue; on the contrary, it is the funneling of emotion into mute forms, preventing the marriage of thought and feeling that produces the most concentrated social action.

In Humans of New York and the Cavilier Consumption of Others, Vinson Cunningham tackles the shallowness in intent and in ramifications of HONY when juxtaposed to photgraphic documentary projects of the past, as well as questioning our uncritical consumption of the images..
By comparison,  [ to the well-known work of  Jacob Riis, James Agee, Walker Evans, and Gordan Park] “Stories” betrays shallow notions of truth (achievable by dialogic cut-and-paste) and egalitarianism. Both come too easily. Instead of the difference acknowledged by Caldwell and Bourke-White’s You and Their, Stanton’s all-encompassing title implies a vague, flattening humanism, too quick to forget the barriers erected—even here, and now, in New York—against real equality...
The quick and cavalier consumption of others has something to do with Facebook, Humans of New York’s native and most comfortable medium. The humans in Stanton’s photos—just like the most photogenic and happy-seeming and apparently knowable humans in your timeline...

And then there are  the humorous parodies and mocking satires.  Is imitation always flattery or does it call us to look with a more critical eye? Are we to laugh or take a social stance?

Things worth appeciating or criticizing often become food for our humor.

Several websites mimic or mock HONY, including: Felines of New York and Millennials of New York.

Regardless of where we stand, however, on the concerns and cricitisms of HONY, we can't help but recognize its widespread reach and influence.

We can't look away from the images and we can't erase the lingering shadows of the images and thoughts long after we have left the site or closed the book.

Even our president looks in from time to time comments on stories that touch his heart, like a photo of a Iranian father and his son, or  a image of a principal and student from a Bronx school whom he later invited  to the White house.


Most recently, he has responded to a post about a Syrian refugee, welcoming him to Michigan and  the United States.


Humans of the New York

Humans of our World.

What is your response to this project, this phenomenom?

Today's Deeper Writing Possibilities


Visit the Humans of New York website and read  several articles about the project shared above.

Create a list of positive and negative aspects and features.

Write a review praising the site and project.

Write a second reviewthat is critical of the site and project.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

BAD NEWS




“No one loves the messenger who brings bad news.”


The news is bad.

How do you tell it?

Do you jump right in, bluntly speaking words that will bring tears or utterly crush?

Do you arrange a supportive environment, preface the hard-to-bear news with soft words, serve a meal, perhaps offer a drink-- all preparatory measures designed to delay or soften the blow of hard words?


Do you muse for days, planning a speech, arranging your body to tell the news, while indicating support with your eyes,  your face, you hands?  How do you fix your eyes to share disappointments? How do you pose your face to say I know, I know, I know  as you bring down the hammer? What should your hands do to show I got you.


 Do you write and rewrite the email in your head?  Do you write seven drafts, deleting and starting over, each time striving to achieve the desired effect?

The last time it was my turn to deal the doom, I was physically sick and emotionally distraught for two weeks. I alternatively denied, delayed, and thought about how to dilute the news.
How could I completely avoid this task?

As much as we agonize about the time, the place, and the words, the bad news has to be told.

In the medical world where bad news must be routinely delivered, it is still not easy.  Examples of extensive and complex medical protocols for sharing bad news can be considered here and here and here.

The business world also plays by preordained rules for sharing bad news. See more on delivering bad news at work here.

But who wants to hear bad news?
Not only is it hard to deliver bad news.   It is equally difficult to be on the receiving end.

We all remember the Wicked Witch in the Wiz and her enthusiastic rendition of  Don't Nobody Bring Me No Bad News
.
Often times, we have no warning.  We don't believe what our ears have taken in. Our hearts sink and we try to return to the moment before the words were delivered.

But other times there are signs.
And we all we know the signs.

The friend who won't look us in the eye.
The conversation that comes to a halt when we enter the room  or the whispers that we can't quite hear.
The phone ringing late -- never good.

Certain  phrases put our ears and our hearts on instant alert.
We hear the ritual opening words on tell-all talk shows:

You know I love you, but...

I don't want to hurt you, however...

I know you don't want to hear this...

What follows these words is never good.  It is usually devastating at worst and disconcerting at the very least.
We brace ourselves to hear, yet not wanting the words to be uttered.

Like my reaction to delivering  bad news,  the moment we realize the next words we hear are not going to be pleasant, we may have a physical reaction as our bodies prepare to support and guard our hearts.


Sometimes we manage to find a drop of blessing in a downpour of negative news.

The news was bad, but there was this one good part.

This is the bad news, but the good news is....

These books for children  highlight this conflicting reality.




And finally, as we think about all the bad news scenarios, it is crucial to make certain that the news we are delivering is accurate.

We all remember Chicken Little (sometimes known as Henny Penny) and her the bad news-- her untrue news--that the sky was falling. She not only passed on this news to her friends and neighbors, but enlisted them to help her tell more folks.


        


I will never forget my embarrassment on the day I posted on Facebook (from a reliable source) that Nelson Mandala had died... more than a year before his actual death.
I was not alone in passing on this premature, erroneous  news.  But that does not excuse my error.
Read the  blog post about my Facebook error and other news media and social media errors


We all receive bad news  and often times must be the bearer of such news.
How do we deliver unwelcome news?
How do we receive it?

 I leave you with the final lines from  It Is I Who Must Begin by Vaclov Haved offering a helpful perspective toward our unwelcome news and resulting situations:

...I suddenly discover,
to my surprise, that
I am neither the only one,
nor the first,
nor the most important one
to have set out upon the road.
Whether all is really lost
or not depends entirely on
whether or not I am lost.


Today's Deeper Writing Possibilities


Reflect on the last time you were the bearer of bad news

How did you prepare?

When did you last receive unwelcome news?

How did you respond?

Wrtie a protocol or guide for others to deliver or respond to bad new.

Write an essay on the effects of bad news.