Royster and matters of voice

Royster's article, "When the First Voice You Heart Is Not Your Own," struck a cord with me. I believe that one problem I had with David Bartholomae's piece was the hint of dishonesty it had. It is hard to approach a piece with the same open-minded attitude when you know that a writer does not have the same background as what he may be writing about. I believe Royster is correct with the example she uses regarding African Americans reading or "listening to" the voice of someone who is *not* African American. While the intent of the author may be sincere, the voice will not have the same impact.

It will not have the same impact, regardless of how well the author is versed in the material. The research will likely not ultimately convince the reader, no matter how thoroughly it is done. Royster's piece comes into almost direct conflict with Bartholomae in that she states exactly the best voice to reach members of a community is that of a member who shares the same experiences. This lends an credibility to one author. Such an author doesn't have to "fake it" because that author has lived it.

This is not to say that writers cannot explore issues outside of their own experience or their own "communities." However, they do risk the pieces, words, or actions coming into question. Maybe even question is too strong of a word---let's put it this way, readers will take the voice of an author whose experiences differ from their own with a grain of salt. The question always in the back of the audience's mind will be, "Well, what does he really know about that?"

Bizzel's thoughts

Bizzel describes in her article two main methods when it comes to writing. One method is writing that is inner directed. It is concerned with the "rules of writing," such as grammar and sentence structure and the like. She argues that one benefit of this method is that there are ideas which can apply to every student when teaching writing. The second method which is termed the "outer method" concerns itself more with the academic community as we have come to call it. She is insistent in pointing out that social process is an important part in how we learn to write. Thinking and social process seem to go hand in hand. By using this outer method, a writer needs to learn the various language and ideas of each academic community to be an effective writer in this genre.

Bizzel points out at the very beginning of her article that a growing number of educators feel the need to teach students to think and not only the methods of writing. I am not sure that I agree with the notion. As opposed to "learning to think," I think it may be as simple as teaching students what questions to ask. If you ask any student about a topic he is well informed about, he or she can usually make a persuasive argument for whatever he happens to believe. A lack of ability to write within an "academic discourse," usually stems from lack of knowledge. This is where research comes in. However, once a student gathers information, there is still the interpretation of that information to take place. In preparing to forumate an argument or to writer a paper, the experienced student seems to go through a mental process.

What is important about this topic? How do I feel about this topic? What do I want to educate my readers about?

It is this process that an inexperienced writer must be caught. This is not teaching a student how to think persay. What it is is guiding students down a path so that they learn to ask the right questions. Bizzel herself that the best method, in her opinion, is to synthesize the two methods of inner and outer directed writing. She shows a good deal of common sense in this article, something I at times find lacking in the material we read. As opposed to siding with one extreme or another, she finds a way to successfully combine two methods into a means that will help students learn to write.

A Writer in Constant Motion?

No matter how persuasive an argument Flowers and Hays make, I cannot agree that the process of writing is a continuous one. The basic premise of their theory is that writing is divided into three main categories. We have the writing process or task, the memory of the writer himself, and the writing enviroment. To further confuse---or to perhaps clarify for us, Flowers and Hays divide these categories into subcategories and further detail the process of writing until we're almost lead to believe that anyone who sits down to read the essay will become an instructor of esteemed proportions who will guide his students down the blissful path where research papers are a treat. Is anyone else left doubting the method?

I am a big fan of clarification and laying things out as simply as possible for beginning or strugglign writers. But when we do so much defining, we begin to seriously limit creativity and to possibly hinder the use of other methods in instruction. Some students develop free writing into perfectly usable term papers. Other writers can't put together a sentence until they have some kind of outline.

One concept I found that I applaud Flowers and Hays for mentioning is that each writer has a personal "monitor." Somehow I found this to mean that his is own our little guide for writing, this little person who evidently sits in the back of the writer's mind and takes him through the writing process step by step. How we move through the process is determined by our own habits when it comes to writing. I cannot agree however with their idea that we never get away from the writing process. Every mind has to shut down sometime.

I cannot tell from the article if they are trying to redefine old concepts with further explanation...or pass off relatively well accepted notions as their own theory.

Bartholomae and the writer

Writers across the genres write for many reason---to entertain, to inform---but despite all the reasons to write, there is one purpose that transcends every genre and every type of writing. Authors write to captivate an audience. By captivate, I do not mean enthrall. The act of captivating an audience suggests the mere act of holding an individual still for a brief period of time in order to relay a message. Captivating an audience means to hold their attention, if only for a brief moment, so that communication occurs. The communication is one sided, of course, but it does not need to remain so. Behind every human being there is experience and personality which translates into a voice when a paper is written. The only difference between a skilled and unskilled writer is the voice in the paper.

I accept with hesitation the idea that a writer needs to "fake it" when he is writing about a topic he knows nothing about. In this case, should not part of the pre-writing process include research? That is the ideal, I suppose, and I imagine there are cases in which there is no time for luxuries such as research. (Aka political speeches, perhaps?) What I wonder though is how much impact this dishonesty has on the audience, never mind the writer? I would think a truly interested audience would somehow sense the dishonesty on the part of the writer. However, I may be giving the audience too much credit.

I do agree with Bartholomae in one regard. Sometimes the best way to learn is through imitation. Copying the language and methods used by a more experienced writer is an acceptable method for practicing verse and language that is beyond the layman. However, the developing writer must take care that as he learns he puts his own meaning to the words to develop the language or tone of his work.

Response to Audience Addressed, Audience Invoked

· What different kinds of information emerge from the two types of analysis? What does each reveal or conceal?

· When or why might one type of analysis be more useful than another?

· In what ways do these types of analysis inform each other or reveal weaknesses in each other?

In the matter of audience addressed, this type of writing may work as a genre to appeal to a very specific audience. Speech writers for politicians may prefer this method when considering a topic or issue for the individual speaking. Oral rhetoric is decidedly different than the written word, but I found this to be the best example. Audience addressed allows the write to focus specifically on content geared toward his audience, whomever that may be. It allows him to decide which medium may best carry his message. What is the appropriate tone to take? One of the limitations of this method is that the writer may focus so exclusively on one set group that he may neglect to take into account his unintended audience. This method of writing undoubtedly works best when the writer has a very clear idea of who his actual audience will be.

Audience invoked provides the writer with much the same information as the technique of audience addressed does. However, this method may allow the writer to focus more on his message. Too much clarity regarding audience may give the writer tunnel vision when it comes to the message he is trying to convey. If the writer himself is free to create the stage, we may find a text that is more open in its tone, as the writer may seek to appeal to as many audience members as possible. Or a writer may envision that his audience knows little about the topic he is speaking of. In such a case, we may find ourselves as readers (or audience) exposed in more detail to the message the writer is passing along. One flaw of this method is that the message may become too general. It may lack focus.

All writers tread a fine line where audience is concerned, save perhaps writers of fiction. One might argue the writer must strive to put his best effort into his message for his audience addressed rather than audience invoked. The members of the audience addressed are more likely to be a receptive audience. Writers may imagine themselves appeal to a large base of people with audience invoked, but we must remember this is a concept the writer is dealing with only in his own mind. Audience addressed is the true forum in which his message must play out.

Response to Ede and Lunsford

The whole sum of this article is Ede and Lunsford believe that teachers fall into one of two extremes: the instructor who concentrates far too much on the audience and the instructor who ignores the audience component completely. I believe that to make such an argument may be too rash. Seldom have I seen instructors who ignore completely the aspect of audience. Much of the emphasis on writing is in at least producing a product that is capable of relaying the message the author intends. Without audience, who is to provide that feedback?

Ede and Lunsford are correct in saying that in most cases, the audience for student writing is the instructor. The instructor could therefore be termed "audience addressed," which according to the authors are the people who actually read the writing of the author. "Audience imagined" refers to those the author believes himself to be writing to. He imagines that these are the people who will read his writing.

The concept of audience is not the most important aspect of writing, but it is not one that should be ignored. Message and content are perhaps the most important. The audience plays a role in shaping that message. Whom should the author write to? In what manner should he convey his message so that it has the most impact? While the audience may not provided purpose (as suggested by other authors we have read so far this semester), the audience does influence composition and the language of a piece---its "tone" so to speak.

In Matters Of Audience

It was clear to me from today's in-class work that the students were stuck on how to best broach the topic of audience with our tutees. This includes myself. The problem with academic writing is that too often the teacher is the intended audience. A clever instructor might tell his students to envision that he is writing for a literary critic or perhaps a newspaper panel...but students usually have a hard time sustaining the ruse. A thought occured to me that the emphasis we placed today on audience might work best if emphasis is returned to the paper. Through a clarification of goals, should not the matter of audience fall easily into place? Or, if not easily, should the student at least have a more specific idea of whom he is writing to?

Does the imaginary audience ever become real? Through clarification of goals, the writer can produce a more tightly organized document. For instance, if one is writing a summary of an article detailing Paradise Lost, the student should consider his audience to be fellow Advanced Literary students. In a larger sense, his audience will be academic. Dr. Wilcox presented the issue in this manner: When writing a summary, think of it this way. Write it down and then go and ask the author if this is what he meant. Again, this would be done in an imaginary context, of course.

My group brought up the implication that we need to find common themes among members of the audience. This method may translate better to some genres than to others. The example offered was that of our school newspaper. A common thread that resonates within this audience is an interest in Elmhurst College.

As writers gearing a piece towards a specific audience, we perhaps need to ask two questions:

Who am I writing for?
What is the message I want others to take away from this piece and why?

Asking these questions leads the writer down a path that enables him to fine tune what he desires his work to be and the message that it presents. The piece and the audience should not be regarded as two separate entities, but rather as parts of one process. What is the message and how does one broadcast it?