By choice, I teach two sections of Composition & Rhetoric each summer. Usually, I teach the Comp-Rhet 1301 sections, but sometimes the department has asked me to teach both a section of 1301 and the other in 1302. That last option is a bit insane, demanding two "preparations," and I prefer one "preparation" for simplicity: same texts, same projects, same resources, same calendar.
Students come to summer terms for varied reasons.
For example, the high school students come to a summer course with an impression that this is similar to high school "summer school." If anyone knows anything about high school summer school around me, know that summer school is rather pathetic. I've seen entire courses around whole instruction of 1) watching movies, 2) quizzes about movies, 3) and attendance. Done. This summer school course replaces one or two semesters of regular high school instruction. Similarly, high school students and university students often come to a class from their K-12 experiences that Paulo Freire describes as the banking model: attend, sit, look and listen the professor, expect the professor to do all the teaching, return to class tomorrow. This group struggles with new learning methodologies such as fieldwork, critical conversations in class, self-assessment, collaborative projects, and thorough peer review (remember, my class is a writing course). These students are often "bright," meaning that they have behaved enough in K-12 to play the game I describe: attend, listen, regurgitate, repeat. They immediately find that a college course, especially a rhetoric and composition course, demands much more independent and collaborative responsibility and flexibility. These two groups also seem to be surprised that the feedback from a professor can be more directed and more critical (in the intellectual, academic term).
In other words, I'm constantly asking students for more evidence, more description, more explanation. These questions push students out of their comfort zone and I can see the frustration. These students have often never questioned the dynamics and ideologies about their communities and about high education (aside: we need much more discussion about popular media and entertainment about higher education overwhelmingly overlooks community college, with perhaps the exception of the 2000-2015 TV sit-com Community with its problems. Too often, families and prospective students see American higher education through the myths of university, with is another problem. That's another discussion). Within two weeks of the summer course, these student populations have sweated and grumbled and struggled and often progress their complex ideas about their place, their communities, and the academy. But it is work -- intellectual, social, and often emotional work (emotional labor) that they often have not experienced, or at least at that level, that pace.
My pedagogy is critical, or at least I aspire to be a critical pedagogue. I find critical pedagogy validates the nation's original intentions for education (Horace Mann; John Dewey) within a contemporary neoliberal hostility towards democracy. So, when students encounter rhetoric, language, communication where their heritages and families and histories and languages are validated, they are sometimes dubious of a prof (especially a white guy) who asks for more discussion about what they are already expert on. In a regular semester, this level of confidence and trust takes weeks, but we have to accelerate that confidence within days. But changing the student-professor relationship cannot be converted in only days and, frankly, some students never build that level of trust until the end of the summer term. This is disappointing, but with two sections, I find overwhelmed with focus on so many students, so quickly.
Some of the classroom instruction that have certainly facilitated the class rhetoric include
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Students come to summer terms for varied reasons.
- Some are transfer students, and at my college, this means that some have recently graduated high school and will start university in August. These students come to "English," thinking that "English" is easy, and "get through" an easy class before their "real" courses start at their universities. I'll talk about this, below.
- Others are community college students who have either failed the Comp-Rhet course before, or they had a disappointing grade and they come to summer to pass or improve their transcript. I respect those students and I feel that this should be a good opportunity to improve their GPA, especially if they had already learned about on-campus resources for success, such as the writing center, advisors, and the all-important habit of regular consulting with professors.
- The third group are high school students, either formally enrolled in dual credit or not formally but looking for college credit. Dual credit is another discussion, but students, family, and faculty should be familiar with the mixed results, especially in Texas.
For example, the high school students come to a summer course with an impression that this is similar to high school "summer school." If anyone knows anything about high school summer school around me, know that summer school is rather pathetic. I've seen entire courses around whole instruction of 1) watching movies, 2) quizzes about movies, 3) and attendance. Done. This summer school course replaces one or two semesters of regular high school instruction. Similarly, high school students and university students often come to a class from their K-12 experiences that Paulo Freire describes as the banking model: attend, sit, look and listen the professor, expect the professor to do all the teaching, return to class tomorrow. This group struggles with new learning methodologies such as fieldwork, critical conversations in class, self-assessment, collaborative projects, and thorough peer review (remember, my class is a writing course). These students are often "bright," meaning that they have behaved enough in K-12 to play the game I describe: attend, listen, regurgitate, repeat. They immediately find that a college course, especially a rhetoric and composition course, demands much more independent and collaborative responsibility and flexibility. These two groups also seem to be surprised that the feedback from a professor can be more directed and more critical (in the intellectual, academic term).
In other words, I'm constantly asking students for more evidence, more description, more explanation. These questions push students out of their comfort zone and I can see the frustration. These students have often never questioned the dynamics and ideologies about their communities and about high education (aside: we need much more discussion about popular media and entertainment about higher education overwhelmingly overlooks community college, with perhaps the exception of the 2000-2015 TV sit-com Community with its problems. Too often, families and prospective students see American higher education through the myths of university, with is another problem. That's another discussion). Within two weeks of the summer course, these student populations have sweated and grumbled and struggled and often progress their complex ideas about their place, their communities, and the academy. But it is work -- intellectual, social, and often emotional work (emotional labor) that they often have not experienced, or at least at that level, that pace.
My pedagogy is critical, or at least I aspire to be a critical pedagogue. I find critical pedagogy validates the nation's original intentions for education (Horace Mann; John Dewey) within a contemporary neoliberal hostility towards democracy. So, when students encounter rhetoric, language, communication where their heritages and families and histories and languages are validated, they are sometimes dubious of a prof (especially a white guy) who asks for more discussion about what they are already expert on. In a regular semester, this level of confidence and trust takes weeks, but we have to accelerate that confidence within days. But changing the student-professor relationship cannot be converted in only days and, frankly, some students never build that level of trust until the end of the summer term. This is disappointing, but with two sections, I find overwhelmed with focus on so many students, so quickly.
Some of the classroom instruction that have certainly facilitated the class rhetoric include
- Game of Degree, designed by librarian Mr. David Puller, where small groups navigate the too-real experiences and resources at a community college; and
- Consistent face-to-face opportunities with peer-tutors in the Center for Reading and Writing (CRW).
Having said that, I see a direct correlation of students' use of CRW support and class success. Those students who meet with peer-tutors are more comfortable with their writing development. But I also realize that the working-class problem is always a barrier; working-class students have time and financial demands where they must leave the campus immediately after class meetings. They do not have the time to meet with tutors or advisors for important social and cognitive support. Further, the lack of childcare on campus has an immediate impact on student (especially mothers) success. Several very enthusiastic students studied and wrote about how childcare improves community college students, and a campus lacking childcare affects not only the freedom to spend time on campus support, but also increases anxiety of parents, often thinking about their children elsewhere.
(An aside: every semester, every term, we see unaccompanied children sitting in the hallways while a parent is in a class meeting. This is the reality of working-class parents, and these parents, desperate for their education leave their children on campus. These children are overwhelmingly well-behaved and do not disrupt the campus (with at least exception I can think) but they are in fact unaccompanied. We are concerned with their safety, but the campus still provides no childcare and could directly solve the problem.)
But, again, it's a summer term and students are exhausted and their professor is exhausted. The learning curve starts with stumbling, grappling, then comes to an apex of consciousness and mental enduring, and then too often becomes a final week of short-cuts with disappointing results. I don't deal with plagiarism in my course -- the instruction and the curriculum is very local and authentic -- but students sometimes just quit, especially in a final project with its demands of revision-revision-revision-revision. The cognitive demand on revision is often beyond of adolescents (and that's why we remember the research on social cognition, even 40 years ago), but that unsuccessful revision is also representative of the secondary schools' emphasis of standardized writing (in Texas, the STAAR test), another chasm between secondary and college writing instruction. We need another week to revise again, always again.
Every student, some students fail or disappear in every semester, every course. We should not expect every student succeed, and especially so in a compressed summer course where the reading and writing labor is intensive. I find, however, that those students who fail during summer are a bit different. Because the class is very intensive, I find that summer students feel that attendance alone equates with passing, and become lost with the after-class labor such as hours of reading, engaging, and writing. In other words, I feel that it's almost easier to sit in a classroom for five weeks, contrasted with fifteen weeks, and some students feel that in a classroom is sufficient. These students become frustrated with the personal responsibility for their personal work, and they disappear after about three weeks. Or, one or two students are absent (often very valid reasons, such as illness or family demands) but expect a busy class instruction should be repeated by the professor within a few minutes between class time. These students become very frustrated that everything cannot be re-instructed and clarified, whereas the other students have engaged with intense exercises, workshops, and group work while some have been absent.
As a professor, I am limited. I cannot re-instruct two hours for an absent student. When a student is absent in even two or three class meetings, I emotionally respond anxious, asking what I might be able to bridge missing instruction, and I simply cannot make these supporting instruction. Though I feel that meeting with writing tutors can be helpful in a writing process, those tutors cannot supplant in-class instruction. And yes, other students might help with missing notes, but cannot replace the face-to-face socialized instruction and student engagement. In short, absences in summer class is almost damaging. Unfortunately, the university transfer students often have orientations in their four-year university programs, requiring one or two missing dates from my summer course. Ironically, those students feel that the summer course eliminates the university requirement, but the university orientation requirement ironically hurts the student's learning in writing and rhetoric, and damages the university transcript. Not quite Catch-22, but something near to it.
Every student, some students fail or disappear in every semester, every course. We should not expect every student succeed, and especially so in a compressed summer course where the reading and writing labor is intensive. I find, however, that those students who fail during summer are a bit different. Because the class is very intensive, I find that summer students feel that attendance alone equates with passing, and become lost with the after-class labor such as hours of reading, engaging, and writing. In other words, I feel that it's almost easier to sit in a classroom for five weeks, contrasted with fifteen weeks, and some students feel that in a classroom is sufficient. These students become frustrated with the personal responsibility for their personal work, and they disappear after about three weeks. Or, one or two students are absent (often very valid reasons, such as illness or family demands) but expect a busy class instruction should be repeated by the professor within a few minutes between class time. These students become very frustrated that everything cannot be re-instructed and clarified, whereas the other students have engaged with intense exercises, workshops, and group work while some have been absent.
As a professor, I am limited. I cannot re-instruct two hours for an absent student. When a student is absent in even two or three class meetings, I emotionally respond anxious, asking what I might be able to bridge missing instruction, and I simply cannot make these supporting instruction. Though I feel that meeting with writing tutors can be helpful in a writing process, those tutors cannot supplant in-class instruction. And yes, other students might help with missing notes, but cannot replace the face-to-face socialized instruction and student engagement. In short, absences in summer class is almost damaging. Unfortunately, the university transfer students often have orientations in their four-year university programs, requiring one or two missing dates from my summer course. Ironically, those students feel that the summer course eliminates the university requirement, but the university orientation requirement ironically hurts the student's learning in writing and rhetoric, and damages the university transcript. Not quite Catch-22, but something near to it.
Finally, we see a higher percentage of dual-credit students with low grades over traditional college students. This is complicated, but I feel that it is because of two important components, understood by high school advisors and college advisors: ELA vs. Rhet-Comp, and cognitive maturity.
ELA vs. Comp-Rhet. Universally (without any hyperbole), high school students do not know what we do in college writing courses and think English (ELA) = English (Comp-Rhet). Or, in other examples, they lack the self-efficacy to even choose their own, personal topics, and repeatedly want the professor to give them topics, resources, and structure, every time. Contrast with even 18-year old students have sufficient confidence to take emerging responsibility to their reading and writing projects. Again, I see the first responsibility on advisors. I believe advisors see “English” as similar to high school ELA and that a summer course is similar to a high school summer make-up class. This is a big mistake for advisors to see summer as a substitute or squeeze this complex course before another high school year or before university course.
Cognitive maturity. The problem of high school students taking college courses in a compressed summer term is fundamentally cognitive. Most of these students are not mature, not cognitively aware, and not responsible enough for the level of academic rigor, such as fieldwork, ethnographic strategies, socialized writing strategies, and critical and collaborative discussion. The social gap is seen when shy students lack the self-efficacy to meet with either their professor or with peer tutors. At least two high school students I identified this summer lacking attention to read the college-level text, and struggled to see complex ideas, even when socializing these texts in class discussion. For example, during this summer, not one dual credit student ever met with me for writing consultation. Not one. As a professor, this is frustrating, knowing that each student can improve her learning to clarify instruction, socialize their writing process, and to provide other resources. But the social gap is evident. More mature students make the effort to meet with their professors, the writing tutors, librarians, and other resources.
OK. Long post. To be clear, summer is exhausting for everyone, and especially for professors. More mature students also do amazing work, responsive to the course's learning objectives and actually produce new meaning-making for local rhetorical analysis. I learned about Conroe's rhetoric of "founders"; I learned from Acres Homes's gap identity vs. Lone Star College; I learned about colorism in Spring and how institutions doubly erase people of color; I re-learned how Latinx families lack mental health and how the college lacks important mental health resources; I learned from multiple mothers who need childcare but frustrated that the college lacks on-campus resources; I learned to see how students come from rather provincial attitudes and see collaborative discussions to better understand local institutional deficiencies and how students of color, especially, struggle so courageously for recognition and financial equity. That's the ultimately success of any course like Composition and Rhetoric -- students bringing their rhetorical analysis, validating their rhetoric and language, into a community college.
ELA vs. Comp-Rhet. Universally (without any hyperbole), high school students do not know what we do in college writing courses and think English (ELA) = English (Comp-Rhet). Or, in other examples, they lack the self-efficacy to even choose their own, personal topics, and repeatedly want the professor to give them topics, resources, and structure, every time. Contrast with even 18-year old students have sufficient confidence to take emerging responsibility to their reading and writing projects. Again, I see the first responsibility on advisors. I believe advisors see “English” as similar to high school ELA and that a summer course is similar to a high school summer make-up class. This is a big mistake for advisors to see summer as a substitute or squeeze this complex course before another high school year or before university course.
Cognitive maturity. The problem of high school students taking college courses in a compressed summer term is fundamentally cognitive. Most of these students are not mature, not cognitively aware, and not responsible enough for the level of academic rigor, such as fieldwork, ethnographic strategies, socialized writing strategies, and critical and collaborative discussion. The social gap is seen when shy students lack the self-efficacy to meet with either their professor or with peer tutors. At least two high school students I identified this summer lacking attention to read the college-level text, and struggled to see complex ideas, even when socializing these texts in class discussion. For example, during this summer, not one dual credit student ever met with me for writing consultation. Not one. As a professor, this is frustrating, knowing that each student can improve her learning to clarify instruction, socialize their writing process, and to provide other resources. But the social gap is evident. More mature students make the effort to meet with their professors, the writing tutors, librarians, and other resources.
OK. Long post. To be clear, summer is exhausting for everyone, and especially for professors. More mature students also do amazing work, responsive to the course's learning objectives and actually produce new meaning-making for local rhetorical analysis. I learned about Conroe's rhetoric of "founders"; I learned from Acres Homes's gap identity vs. Lone Star College; I learned about colorism in Spring and how institutions doubly erase people of color; I re-learned how Latinx families lack mental health and how the college lacks important mental health resources; I learned from multiple mothers who need childcare but frustrated that the college lacks on-campus resources; I learned to see how students come from rather provincial attitudes and see collaborative discussions to better understand local institutional deficiencies and how students of color, especially, struggle so courageously for recognition and financial equity. That's the ultimately success of any course like Composition and Rhetoric -- students bringing their rhetorical analysis, validating their rhetoric and language, into a community college.
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