[Teaching_Composition] Of Bodies Writing

[Kristie Fleckenstein]

Oh, my gosh, Kathy, your post brought back so many of my own memories in and out of the classroom. I started teaching high school right out of college when I was 22…only 4 to 5 years older than the students I was teaching.  Yikes!  When I got my first journal from a student describing how he’d love to meet me for pizza some weekend, I was more than a little uneasy and a lot flustered.  (I suppose I should have been happy he didn't ask me to bring the beer!)  Nothing in my undergrad ed classes (in the early 70s) had prepared me for something like that.  

As a former WPA, I spent time dealing with such issues in TA training, but I know that we don't have a lot of attention paid to embodiment in essay collections designed for TA training.  Lots of essays on what they (TAs) need to know, which is definitely important.  But essays on body concerns tend to be in short supply, and I think that "corporeal" preparation is just as important as course content.

So what's going on in secondary ed training? I’ve been out of the secondary ed loop for too many years to know if issues of embodiment are addressed in our undergraduate methods courses.  Or perhaps "embodiment" is bundled in with discussions of harassment?

Can others on the list help us out here?  Does UG teacher training clases deal with body issues?

And your memories, Kathy, reminded me of Steve’s post, too, because I can’t help but wonder, especially as I watch my older daughter develop a rich, complex network of online friendships (including at one time, I suspect, a romantic connection) if the We 2.0 generation is developing not only different modes of communication but also different senses of their bodies. Does the Web 2.0 generation have a more flexible understanding of bodies than does the typographic generation? If so, flexible how?  And what are the implications of those differences?

Oddly enough, those questions make my mind jump to NCLB.  Do we have in high stakes testing a complete denial of bodies?  And, if we shape curriculum to align with high stakes testing, are we systematically denying the reality of bodies in our K through postsecondary classrooms?  How does interact with the Web 2.0 experiences? Does it widen the gulf between "real" life and "school" life?  "real" literacies and "school" literacies?

I can't help but wonder what would happen if we looked at some of the issues plaguing education, K through postsecondary, through the lens of embodiment.  Might we find new ways of looking at nagging problems and perhaps coming up with some novels solutions to those problems?

I'd like to think so.

Kris


----- Original Message -----
From: Kathy Fitch <kfitch@kafkaz.net>
Date: Monday, November 19, 2007 6:44 pm
Subject: RE: [Teaching_Composition] Of Bodies Writing
To: teaching_composition@mailman.eppg.com

> Kristie,
> 
> 
> 
> I love your module.  It's exciting, inviting, richly thought 
> provoking, and
> comes at just the perfect time for me, and, I'm sure, for others, 
> as well-if
> you love to write, it's always the perfect time to ponder poetry, 
> which, for
> me, is what we get when the body, the realm of imagery, and symbol 
> systemsget all beautifully tangled up in one another.  If you love 
> to teach
> writing, then perhaps it's always urgent to keep some poetry in 
> your bones.
> All of which is to say, the (long, now, sorry) meandering to follow 
> is all
> your fault, and I thank you for the excuse to do it (not that I 
> ever need
> too much of an excuse, mind you).
> 
> 
> 
> --After reading your module, I started remembering.  The very first 
> semesterthat I taught as a grad TA, many of my friends, including 
> my roommate of the
> year before, who was a Sophomore when I started teaching writing, 
> were still
> undergraduates.  It's strange to think of, now, since I've never 
> been what a
> person might call conventionally attractive (by whatever definition 
> is going
> at the moment-so far, none of them has seemed to have the likes of 
> me in
> mind, though I suppose it could happen any minute, now), but, at 
> that time,
> some of my students were apparently physically attracted to me.  I 
> typicallydressed up a few notches for class, since I was aware 
> enough of issues of
> appearance to understand that I looked pretty much exactly like my 
> studentsas far as both age and general style went, and since I 
> didn't have nearly
> enough natural or acquired authority at that point not to need any 
> of the
> external trappings of it.  I remember being nervous, of course, but 
> soon we
> were focused on writing, and I rather forgot about my physical 
> presenceexcept for the general pleasure of moving about the class, 
> talking,laughing, answering questions, asking them, listening, all 
> of that.  So, a
> few weeks into it, I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. 
> Then, I
> visited with my roommate of the year before.  She knew some of my
> students-partied with them at frat houses, it seems-and passed 
> along the
> news that several of them found me "hot."  There were no 
> ratemyprofessorservices complete with chili pepper hotness scores 
> back then, and I'm glad,
> because even though I understood that this was supposed to be a 
> compliment,and this is clearly how my friend figured I'd take it, 
> that bit of feedback
> made me feel weird.  It was like I had been floating up on one of 
> thosesilvery tethers, marvelously non body conscious, and then was 
> suddenly,unceremoniously slammed right on back into my skin.  It 
> was a high gravity
> moment.  I didn't like it.  Already, then, and ever since, I simply 
> neverrelated to my students that way.  Here were people whose 
> intellectualwellbeing I was claiming some responsibility for:  
> sexual flirtation wasn't
> a language it would ever have occurred to me to speak to them in.  
> (I'dspeak to them *of* it, if the subject came up in the course of 
> things, but
> not *in* it, which is a whole separate deal.)   
> 
> 
> 
> --A number of years later, a Dean interviewing me privately for the 
> finalround of a tenure-track position noted my relative youth, and 
> wondered how
> much of a role this might play in my student reviews.  He was a 
> great guy,
> really, but the clear implication was:  you're young, and that's why
> students like you.  Oh!  I remember saying something about how if 
> youth is a
> flaw, it's a fleeting one, and pointing out that attitude and 
> approach can
> always be fresh, but this was another of those moments of feeling 
> stuffeddisconcertingly back into my skin.  I did accept that 
> position, and a
> full-time faculty retreat soon followed.  Overnight at a downstate 
> forestpreserve.  There were sessions, and singing, and drinking, 
> and all sorts of
> mandatory chumminess.  One new colleague saw fit to ask me, as I 
> claimedtiredness and headed off to sleep, if I wore Frederick's of 
> Hollywoodlingerie to bed.  Guess it was fun for him to think about 
> what all lacy
> nothings I might have crammed into my rucksack, but, again-
> uncomfortablybound in my skin by the power of a single comment.  
> Reduced to skin.  That
> night, my roommate, who was an Acting teacher very near retirement,
> delighted me (and frightened me just a delicious little bit) by easily
> regressing to a three-year old homesick child right before my eyes: 
> she
> nailed the voice, the movement, the air of the thing.  I could 
> practicallysee the air around her shimmer with magic as she did it. 
> Here was skin as
> parchment, as costume, as malleable joy.  More flinty and melting skin
> moments eventually followed:  the colleague who had "heard all 
> about" my
> lesbian adventures (and how the hell does a straight married woman 
> who is
> doubly offended--by the narrow-mindedness, there, first of all, and 
> by the
> fact that he actually apparently had another colleague and good 
> friend in
> mind-- respond intelligently to that one?); the all male Teaching 
> Centercommittee members, mostly twenty or more years older than me, 
> who proposed
> setting me up in a kissing booth to generate funds; the miscarriage 
> that had
> me missing a few sessions of still another committee, much to the 
> chagrin of
> its chair, who finally backed off when, in a moment of frustration, 
> I told
> the dean he sicced on me (and who was a great guy, and thus refused 
> to sic,
> though he did discuss it with me) that I wasn't going to haul my 
> body to
> thrice weekly meetings while blood was snaking down my inner thighs 
> anddidn't want to hear another word about it until I had this 
> physical problem
> under control.  Bloody female body as power and curse.  It wasn't 
> discussedagain.
> 
> 
> 
> --First year of grad school, while I was apparently busy being hot 
> withoutknowing it or wanting to be, I lived in an old garden style 
> apartmentbuilding.  In the apartment just to the north of mine 
> lived Lisa, who had
> been legally blind from birth.  We met when she came to my door 
> with a
> measuring cup in hand, seeking milk for something she was 
> preparing.  Now, I
> hope I'm not limiting her to her body when I observe that she was 
> gorgeous.Long brown hair, skin the most beautiful color I'd ever 
> seen, and the kind
> of lithe and willowy body that a lifelong dancer might have.  We 
> becamefriends.  I learned all about the special computer she used 
> to magnify
> books, listened to her boyfriend woes (he wasn't sure he wanted to 
> marry a
> blind woman, but he wasn't thinking he wanted anyone else to have her,
> either), and discovered that she was loathe to use her cane while 
> walkingaround campus.  Never mind that she was practically killed 
> by bikers,
> skaters, and general jostling several times a week.  She didn't 
> want the
> cane because it meant people would process her as "blind person," 
> steeraround her, and never engage with her on any other level.  In 
> the apartment
> just to south of me lived John, who had cerebral palsy.  I learned 
> to keep
> my apartment stocked with straws so I could offer him a drink when 
> he came
> over, since drinking directly from a glass or can was tough for 
> him.  John
> couldn't leave the outward marks of CP at home, and it constantly 
> frustratedhim.  Girls were a particular source of concern.  Like 
> Lisa, he was very
> generous with me.  I'd never had close friends with disabilities 
> before, and
> here, quite suddenly, I was flanked by them.  They let me ask all 
> sorts of
> questions.  John and I had long discussions about the challenges of 
> dating.He was a romantic-writing poetry, buying flowers, falling 
> hard and fast.  We
> wondered, together, about how his body complicated things.  Coming 
> on too
> strong?  He figured he came on too strong for some women just by 
> being.Just a year or so later, one of my own students, Barbara,  
> was blind.  No
> special viewing devices for her, since the blindness was total.  
> Our whole
> class was somehow defined by her rhythms, which were assertive, but 
> kind,and very comfortable (largely a magic of her making).   The 
> clicking of her
> slate and stylus became part of our world, we all learned (even 
> "why would I
> touch you when I don't even *know* you?" me) to offer our arms with 
> easewhen it came time for Barb to navigate the busy halls of the 
> Englishbuilding, and workshop days meant we all read aloud to each 
> other, so the
> hum was constant.  Barb wrote the most beautiful, detailed visual
> descriptions.  She always brought her slate and stylus to conference
> sessions, too, and took notes as we talked.  All of these generous 
> folks who
> let me learn from them how to be easy with them (and hard on them, and
> ticked at them, and just *with* them, generally) made it possible 
> for me to
> be very comfortable with managing the challenges and joys of 
> working with
> many later students who came bearing all sorts of bodily and emotional
> difference:  blindness, CP, deafness, brain damage, epilepsy, 
> depression,histories of abuse.
> 
> 
> 
> --Suddenly, I'm remembering the bodies of teachers I loved.  One very
> overweight lit prof never, ever moved from the desk.  She'd hike 
> herselfonto that scarred old block of wood at the front of the 
> classroom as the
> period began, and sit there the whole time.  And yet, I have this 
> impressionof grace when I think of the way she moved around in text 
> and in ideas, and
> I remember feeling breathless and exhilarated by keeping up with her.
> Then, there was the elfin film professor, very thin and short.  He 
> used to
> smoke and pace across the room-this little engine of energy, 
> puffing away.
> And he'd fill the board with words and arrows and charts and 
> drawings that
> marked and moved our discussion along.  I could never sleep after his
> classes.  They left me wired and wanting to read, write, talk, 
> think *right
> now.*  Oh, oh-and the high school English teacher, Mrs. B.  She was 
> allpleated wool skirts and cardigans, and she always had a line of 
> chalk dust
> across her back, right where she leaned against the chalk tray when 
> she was
> at the board.  Very soft-spoken.  When I think of her, now, it 
> seems to me
> that her great and rare talent consisted mostly of setting us in 
> motion and
> then getting out of the way.  I remember just writing and writing and
> reading and reading and writing some more, for her, but I never 
> rememberfeeling at all pressured about it.  Her space was quiet and 
> absorbing.  
> 
> 
> 
> --Then, too,  the bodies of teachers I didn't love so much.  The 
> prim and
> prissy Shakespeare prof who drew a large and apparently perfect 
> circle on
> the board on day one, then turned to us and told us that the 
> ability to draw
> a perfect circle was the sign of a rare and prodigious intelligence 
> was one
> teacher I instantly and irreversibly hated-even more so more 
> because, of
> course, I couldn't resist trying the circle thing, and instantly 
> discoveringthat without a compass, my circle making skills were 
> iffy, at best.  Then,
> there was the Econ prof who was simply boring.  Somehow, I think 
> beige and
> taupe when I think of him, though I can't really remember what he 
> wore.  I
> actually once got up, gathered my things, and walked out of that 
> class and
> into the exhilarating spring sunshine (the sort of rudeness I 
> hardly ever
> allow myself), simply because I couldn't take the monotone (and, 
> apparently,the monochrome) drone of him for one more instant.  
> Then, there was the Soc.
> Prof  who was persnickety as can be.  Very smart, kind of funny, 
> but really
> not at all nice.  I remember watching the cowlick at his crown 
> bounce as he
> paced the room.  
> 
> 
> 
> ---Random grad school memory:  Lit prof known for flirting 
> outrageously (and
> sometimes, more) with female students.  Creep.  But, I had one 
> friend with
> whom he never, ever flirted, and she was deeply bummed about this.  I
> avoided his courses, so I was a bit at a loss.  She *wanted* the 
> creep to be
> creepy to her?  Sigh. Yes.  She wanted to know that she, too, was 
> worthy of
> his creepiness.  But she was not thin, not pretty in the way he was 
> drawnto, and entirely (as I told her, again and again) too smart 
> and too good and
> far too beautiful for him, anyway.  I never read Blake without 
> thinking of
> her.
> 
> 
> 
> --Random teaching memories:  The young women who approached me very 
> solemnlyat the end of class one day, asked me to raise my arm, 
> withdrew a pair of
> manicure scissors from her purse, and proceeded very gently to cut 
> the tag
> that was hanging there.  New jacket.  My little glow of pleasure 
> about this
> new thing-I was feeling uncommonly happy about the color and the 
> fabric and
> the feel of it-wasn't at all undone by the gesture.  Not many 
> people could
> have been that tenderly respectful.   Another young woman who 
> approached at
> the end of class one day to thump our book onto the desk, and 
> declare "this
> book doesn't include me."  And so it didn't.  She explained why, 
> and she was
> right.  A young man who wore a tee shirts with drawings of serial 
> killers on
> them to class, who wanted to shake some reaction out of his 
> classmates in
> this manner, and who did.  Interesting negotiations had to go on to 
> preventthat one from blowing up.  Another young man who wore lots 
> of black eye
> makeup, lots of black clothing, lots of dangly earrings, and who 
> was very
> quiet, very sensitive, a poet really.  When I mentioned, one day, how
> talented I thought he was, he said that it wasn't until college that
> teachers ever said this wondrous thing to him or about him.  Before 
> that, he
> felt that he was always pretty immediately sized up and put into 
> the trouble
> category.  Oh, and so many more lessons delivered skillfully from 
> smartstudents to a teacher who learned from them that's it's best 
> to remember
> that there's always something new to learn about how to be a good 
> teacher to
> them.
> 
> 
> 
> --Hmm, and then I was thinking, all in response to this module, of 
> how very
> different various sections of the same course can be.  One 
> semester, there
> were two research writing courses.  One group was pretty quiet, very
> workmanlike, not that into conversation or debate, but very solemnly
> absorbed.  They consistently handed in amazing work, and basically 
> kickedbutt all the way.  They were a pleasure, all around.  Another 
> group was
> challenging, raucous at times, questioned every little thing, and 
> cracked me
> up on a regular basis.  Their writing, on the whole, wasn't quite as
> good-collectively, they had further to go--but the engagement level 
> was very
> high.  I would sometimes look at them in mock indignation and 
> declare that I
> was lucky I could ever get a darned word in edgewise, with them.  
> Lots of
> the students in this section were on their second or third time 
> through the
> course.  We decided, right off, that this would simply have to be it:
> they'd make it even if it killed them-or me-and we allowed as to 
> how it just
> might hurt a little bit, at times, but we'd just go on ahead and do it
> together, anyway, and be glad of the chance to.  Most of them (not 
> all, but
> most) really did pass.  Toward the end, they kicked me out of the room
> during the last ten or fifteen minutes of class, one day.  That had 
> neverhappened before, but there it was:  "Mrs. Fitch, you have to 
> leave now.  We
> need to talk without you. Shoo."  So, I left, wondering what they were
> plotting.  Might have been anything from a mutiny to a party, with 
> thatgroup.  Turned out, they were plotting flowers.  A huge bouquet 
> for me on
> the first day of the last week.  They had pooled their money, and also
> pooled their garden resources.  There were hothouse flowers, 
> wildflowers,and heavy branches of blossoms cut from trees and 
> shrubs in their yards (and
> maybe their neighbors yards, too).  It was a huge and crazy bouquet-
> andexactly the sort of composition that best reflected their 
> spirit.  I loved
> it, and them.
> 
> 
> 
> Oh, and there's so much more:  the athleticism of teaching, 
> especially in a
> computer lab setting; the maturing of both body and spirit over 
> time, and
> how this impacts teaching; the various languages (Spanish, Vietnamese,
> Russian, and countless others, plus ASL, gang signs, slang, tattoos,
> costume, hair) students bring to the project of writing and 
> learning with
> them; the language of fear and frustration in the classroom, as it 
> plays out
> on every level; the cultural differences when it comes to virtually
> everything, including how marriage, family, and success (all things 
> thatmatter for the project of learning) get defined.
> 
> 
> 
> Well, no big insight to offer, but many seemingly disparate things 
> to ponder
> and to continue to draw together, and for that I thank you.
> 
> 
> 
> Kathy
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
>  _____  
> 
> From: teaching_composition-admin@mailman.eppg.com
> [mailto:teaching_composition-admin@mailman.eppg.com] On Behalf Of 
> StephenRuffus
> Sent: Tuesday, November 13, 2007 3:19 PM
> To: teaching_composition@mailman.eppg.com
> Subject: RE: [Teaching_Composition] NEW MODULE
> 
> 
> 
> Kristie's post brings something to mind.  Recently, the General 
> Educationcommittee at my school proposed that courses satisfying 
> the college's
> diversity requirement not be taught online until we knew more about 
> howstudents negotiate racial and ethnic identities in digital 
> environments.  It
> seemed to me a basic question about embodiment was being asked.
> 
> 
> 
> 

Kristie S. Fleckenstein, Associate Professor
Department of English
Florida State University
405 Williams Bldg., 631 University Way
P. O. Box 3061580
Tallahassee, FL  32306-1580
850.644.3530 (O)
850.644.0811 (F)
kfleckenstein@fsu.edu