Thursday, November 09, 2006

5. The "Banking" Concept of Education (Pedagogy)

พระเจ้าช่วยกล้วยทอดบทความนี้ยาวเหลือหลาย เอิ๊กๆ บทความนี้ถือว่าเป็นแรงบันดาลใจหนึ่งของผมให้ตั้งชื่อ blog ว่า "Dialogue" แนวคิดของ Freire เน้นไปที่เรื่องของความสัมพันธ์ของผู้สอนและผู้เรียนว่าไม่มีใครสอนใครทั้งนั้น แต่ว่าต่างคนต่างเรียนรู้ซึ่งกันและกัน ("Through dialogue, the teacher-of-the-students and the students-of-the-teacher cease to exist and a new term emerges: teacher-student with students-teachers." และ "People teach each other, mediated by the world, by the cognizable objects which in banking education are "owned" by the teacher.") แนวความคิดนี้น่าสนใจดีนะครับ เพราะว่าไม่มีใครที่จะมีอำนาจเหนือใคร และตัวนักเรียนเองก็มีโอกาสที่จะได้แสดงความเห็น ไม่ใช่แค่นั่งฟังและทำตามอาจารย์สั่งเท่านั้น


PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED

This reading is from: PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED by Paulo Freire. New York: Continuum Books, 1993.

CHAPTER 2


A careful analysis of the teacher-student relationship at any level, inside or outside the school, reveals its fundamentally narrative character. This relationship involves a narrating Subject (the teacher) and patient listening objects (the students). The contents, whether values or empirical dimensions of reality, tend in the process of being narrated to become lifeless and petrified. Education is suffering from narration sickness.

The teacher talks about reality as if it were motionless, static, compartmentalized, and predictable. Or else he expounds on a topic completely alien to the existential experience of the students. His task is to "fill" the students with the contents of his narration -- contents which are detached from reality, disconnected from the totality that engendered them and could give them significance. Words are emptied of their concreteness and become a hollow, alienated, and alienating verbosity.

The outstanding characteristic of this narrative education, then, is the sonority of words, not their transforming power. "Four times four is sixteen; the capital of Para is Belem." The student records, memorizes, and repeats these phrases without perceiving what four times four really means, or realizing the true significance of "capital" in the affirmation "the capital of Para is Belem," that is, what Belem means for Para and what Para means for Brazil.

Narration (with the teacher as narrator) leads the students to memorize mechanically the narrated account. Worse yet, it turns them into "containers," into "receptacles" to be "filled" by the teachers. The more completely she fills the receptacles, the better a teachers she is. The more meekly the receptacles permit themselves to be filled, the better students they are.


Education thus becomes an act of depositing, in which the students are the depositories and the teacher is the depositor. Instead of communicating, the teacher issues communiques and makes deposits which the students patiently receive, memorize, and repeat. This is the "banking' concept of education, in which the scope of action allowed to the students extends only as far as receiving, filing, and storing the deposits. They do, it is true, have the opportunity to become collectors or cataloguers of the things they store. But in the last analysis, it is the people themselves who are filed away through the lack of creativity, transformation, and knowledge in this (at best) misguided system. For apart from inquiry, apart from the praxis, individuals cannot be truly human. Knowledge emerges only through invention and re-invention, through the restless, impatient continuing, hopeful inquiry human beings pursue in the world, with the world, and with each other.


In the banking concept of education, knowledge is a gift bestowed by those who consider themselves knowledgeable upon those whom they consider to know nothing. Projecting an absolute ignorance onto others, a characteristic of the ideology of oppression, negates education and knowledge as processes of inquiry. The teacher presents himself to his students as their necessary opposite; by considering their ignorance absolute, he justifies his own existence. The students, alienated like the slave in the Hegelian dialectic, accept their ignorance as justifying the teachers existence -- but unlike the slave, they never discover that they educate the teacher.

The raison d'etre of libertarian education, on the other hand, lies in its drive towards reconciliation. Education must begin with the solution of the teacher-student contradiction, by reconciling the poles of the contradiction so that both are simultaneously teachers and students.
This solution is not (nor can it be) found in the banking concept. On the contrary, banking education maintains and even stimulates the contradiction through the following attitudes and practices, which mirror oppressive society as a whole:

  1. the teacher teaches and the students are taught;
  2. the teacher knows everything and the students know nothing;
  3. the teacher thinks and the students are thought about;
  4. the teacher talks and the students listen -- meekly;
  5. the teacher disciplines and the students are disciplined;
  6. the teacher chooses and enforces his choice, and the students comply;
  7. the teacher acts and the students have the illusion of acting through the action of the teacher;
  8. the teacher chooses the program content, and the students (who were not consulted) adapt to it;
  9. the teacher confuses the authority of knowledge with his or her own professional authority, which she and he sets in opposition to the freedom of the students;
    the teacher is the Subject of the learning process, while the pupils are mere objects.

It is not surprising that the banking concept of education regards men as adaptable, manageable beings. The more students work at storing the deposits entrusted to them, the less they develop the critical consciousness which would result from their intervention in the world as transformers of that world. The more completely they accept the passive role imposed on them, the more they tend simply to adapt to the world as it is and to the fragmented view of reality deposited in them.


The capability of banking education to minimize or annul the student's creative power and to stimulate their credulity serves the interests of the oppressors, who care neither to have the world revealed nor to see it transformed. The oppressors use their "humanitarianism" to preserve a profitable situation. Thus they react almost instinctively against any experiment in education which stimulates the critical faculties and is not content with a partial view of reality always seeks out the ties which link one point to another and one problem to another.


Indeed, the interests of the oppressors lie in "changing the consciousness of the oppressed, not the situation which oppresses them," (1) for the more the oppressed can be led to adapt to that situation, the more easily they can be dominated. To achieve this the oppressors use the banking concept of education in conjunction with a paternalistic social action apparatus, within which the oppressed receive the euphemistic title of "welfare recipients." They are treated as individual cases, as marginal persons who deviate from the general configuration of a "good, organized and just" society. The oppressed are regarded as the pathology of the healthy society which must therefore adjust these "incompetent and lazy" folk to its own patterns by changing their mentality. These marginals need to be "integrated," "incorporated" into the healthy society that they have "forsaken."


[Footnote #1: Simone de Beauvoir. La Pensee de Droite, Aujord'hui (Paris); ST, El Pensamiento politico de la Derecha (Buenos Aires, 1963), p. 34.


The truth is, however, that the oppressed are not "marginals," are not living "outside" society. They have always been "inside" the structure which made them "beings for others." The solution is not to 'integrate" them into the structure of oppression, but to transform that structure so that they can become "beings for themselves." Such transformation, of course, would undermine the oppressors' purposes; hence their utilization of the banking concept of education to avoid the threat of student conscientizacao.


The banking approach to adult education, for example, will never propose to students that they critically consider reality. It will deal instead with such vital questions as whether Roger gave green grass to the goat, and insist upon the importance of learning that, on the contrary, Roger gave green grass to the rabbit. The "humanism" of the banking approach masks the effort to turn women and men into automatons -- the very negation of their ontological vocation to be more fully human.


Those who use the banking approach, knowingly or unknowingly (for there are innumerable well-intentioned bank-clerk teachers who do not realize that they are serving only to dehumanize), fail to perceive that the deposits themselves contain contradictions about reality. But sooner or later, these contradictions may lead formerly passive students to turn against their domestication and the attempt to domesticate reality. They may discover through existential experience that their present way of life is irreconcilable with their vocation to become fully human. They may perceive through their relations with reality that reality is really a process, undergoing constant transformation. If men and women are searchers and their ontological vocation is humanization, sooner or later they may perceive the contradiction in which banking education seeks to maintain them, and then engage themselves in the struggle for their liberation.


But the humanist revolutionary educator cannot wait for this possibility to materialize. From the outset, her efforts must coincide with those of the students to engage in critical thinking and the quest for mutual humanization. His efforts must be imbued with a profound trust in people and their creative power. To achieve this, they must be partners of the students in their relations with them.


The banking concept does not admit to such partnership -- and necessarily so. To resolve the teacher-student contradiction, to exchange the role of depositor, prescriber, domesticator, for the role of student among students would be to undermine the power of oppression and serve the cause of liberation.


Implicit in the banking concept is the assumption of a dichotomy between human beings and the world: a person is merely in the world, not with the world or with others; the individual is spectator, not re-creator. In this view, the person is not a conscious being (corpo consciente); he or she is rather the possessor of a consciousness: an empty "mind" passively open to the reception of deposits of reality from the world outside. For example, my desk, my books, my coffee cup, all the objects before me, -- as bits of the world which surround me -- would be "inside" me, exactly as I am inside my study right now. This view makes no distinction between being accessible to consciousness and entering consciousness. The distinction, however, is essential: the objects which surround me are simply accessible to my consciousness, not located within it. I am aware of them, but they are not inside me.


It follows logically from the banking notion of consciousness that the educator's role is to regulate the way the world "enters into" the students. The teacher's task is to organize a process which already occurs spontaneously, to "fill" the students by making deposits of information which he of she considers to constitute true knowledge. (2) And since people "receive" the world as passive entities, education should make them more passive still, and adapt them to the world. The educated individual is the adapted person, because she or he is better 'fit" for the world. Translated into practice, this concept is well suited for the purposes of the oppressors, whose tranquility rests on how well people fit the world the oppressors have created and how little they question it.


[Footnote #2: This concept corresponds to what Sartre calls the 'digestive' or 'nutritive' in which knowledge is 'fed' by the teacher to the students to "fill them out." See Jean-Paul Sartre, 'Une idee fundamentals de la phenomenologie de Husserl: L'intentionalite," Situations I (Paris, 1947).]


The more completely the majority adapt to the purposes which the dominant majority prescribe for them (thereby depriving them of the right to their own purposes), the more easily the minority can continue to prescribe. The theory and practice of banking education serve this end quite efficiently. Verbalistic lessons, reading requirements, (3) the methods for evaluating "knowledge," the distance between the teacher and the taught, the criteria for promotion: everything in this ready-to-wear approach serves to obviate thinking.


[Footnote #3: For example, some professors specify in their reading lists that a book should be read from pages 10 to 15 -- and do this to 'help' their students!]


The bank-clerk educator does not realize that there is no true security in his hypertrophied role, that one must seek to live with others in solidarity. One cannot impose oneself, nor even merely co-exist with one's students. Solidarity requires true communication, and the concept by which such an educator is guided fears and proscribes communication.


Yet only through communication can human life hold meaning. The teacher's thinking is authenticated only by the authenticity of the students' thinking. The teacher cannot think for her students, nor can she impose her thought on them. Authentic thinking, thinking that is concerned about reality, does not take place in ivory tower isolation, but only in communication. If it is true that thought has meaning only when generated by action upon the world, the subordination of students to teachers becomes impossible.


Because banking education begins with a false understanding of men and women as objects, it cannot promote the development of what Fromm calls "biophily," but instead produces its opposite: "necrophily."


While life is characterized by growth in a structured functional manner, the necrophilous person loves all that does not grow, all that is mechanical. The necrophilous person is driven by the desire to transform the organic into the inorganic, to approach life mechanically, as if all living persons were things. . . . Memory, rather than experience; having, rather than being, is what counts' The necrophilous person can relate to an object -- a flower or a person -- only if he possesses it; hence a threat to his possession is a threat to himself, if he loses possession he loses contact with the world. . . . He loves control, and in the act of controlling he kills life. (4)

[Footnote #4: Fromm, op. cit. p. 41.]


Oppression --overwhelming control -- is necrophilic; it is nourished by love of death, not life. The banking concept of education, which serves the interests of oppression, is also necrophilic. Based on a mechanistic, static, naturalistic, spatialized view of consciousness, it transforms students into receiving objects. It attempts to control thinking and action, leads women and men to adjust to the world, and inhibits their creative power.


When their efforts to act responsibly are frustrated, when they find themselves unable to use their faculties, people suffer. "This suffering due to impotence is rooted in the very fact that the human has been disturbed." (5) But the inability to act which people's anguish also causes them to reject their impotence, by attempting

. . . .to restore [their] capacity to act. But can [they], and how? One way is to submit to and identify with a person or group having power. By this symbolic participation in another person's life, (men have] the illusion of acting, when in reality [they] only submit to and become a part of those who act. (6)


[Footnote #5: Ibid., p 31.]
[Footnote #6: Ibid. 7.]


Populist manifestations perhaps best exemplify this type of behavior by the oppressed, who, by identifying with charismatic leaders, come to feel that they themselves are active and effective. The rebellion they express as they emerge in the historical process is motivated by that desire to act effectively. The dominant elites consider the remedy to be more domination and repression, carried out in the name of freedom, order, and social peace (that is, the peace of the elites). Thus they can condemn -- logically, from their point of view -- "the violence of a strike by workers and [can] call upon the state in the same breath to use violence in putting down the strike." (7)


[Footnote #7: Reinhold Niebuhr, Moral Man and Immoral Society (New York, 1960), p. 130. ]


Education as the exercise of domination stimulates the credulity of students, with the ideological intent (often not perceived by educators) of indoctrinating them to adapt to the world of oppression. This accusation is not made in the naive hope that the dominant elites will thereby simply abandon the practice. Its objective is to call the attention of true humanists to the fact that they cannot use banking educational methods in the pursuit of liberation, for they would only negate that very pursuit. Nor may a revolutionary society inherit these methods from an oppressor society. The revolutionary society which practices banking education is either misguided or mistrusting of people. In either event, it is threatened by the specter of reaction.


Unfortunately, those who espouse the cause of liberation are themselves surrounded and influenced by the climate which generates the banking concept, and often do not perceive its true significance or its dehumanizing power. Paradoxically, then, they utilize this same instrument of alienation in what they consider an effort to liberate. Indeed, some "revolutionaries" brand as "innocents," "dreamers," or even "reactionaries" those who would challenge this educational practice. But one does not liberate people by alienating them. Authentic liberation-the process of humanization-is not another deposit to be made in men. Liberation is a praxis: the action and reflection of men and women upon their world in order to transform it.


Those truly committed to liberation must reject the banking concept in its entirety, adopting instead a concept of women and men as conscious beings, and consciousness as consciousness intent upon the world. They must abandon the educational goal of deposit-making and replace it with the posing of the problems of human beings in their relations with the world. "Problem-posing" education, responding to the essence of consciousness --intentionality -- rejects communiques and embodies communication. It epitomizes the special characteristic of consciousness: being conscious of, not only as intent on objects but as turned in upon itself in a Jasperian split" --consciousness as consciousness of consciousness.


Liberating education consists in acts of cognition, not transferals of information. It is a learning situation in which the cognizable object (far from being the end of the cognitive act) intermediates the cognitive actors -- teacher on the one hand and students on the other. Accordingly, the practice of problem-posing education entails at the outset that the teacher-student contradiction to be resolved. Dialogical relations -- indispensable to the capacity of cognitive actors to cooperate in perceiving the same cognizable object --are otherwise impossible.


Indeed problem-posing education, which breaks with the vertical characteristic of banking education, can fulfill its function of freedom only if it can overcome the above contradiction. Through dialogue, the teacher-of-the-students and the students-of-the-teacher cease to exist and a new term emerges: teacher-student with students-teachers. The teacher is no longer merely the-one-who-teaches, but one who is himself taught in dialogue with the students, who in turn while being taught also teach. They become jointly responsible for a process in which all grow. In this process, arguments based on "authority" are no longer valid; in order to function authority must be on the side of freedom, not against it. Here, no one teaches another, nor is anyone self-taught. People teach each other, mediated by the world, by the cognizable objects which in banking education are "owned" by the teacher.


The banking concept (with its tendency to dichotomize everything) distinguishes two stages in the action of the educator. During the first he cognizes a cognizable object while he prepares his lessons in his study or his laboratory; during the second, he expounds to his students about that object. The students are not called upon to know, but to memorize the contents narrated by the teacher. Nor do the students practice any act of cognition, since the object towards which that act should be directed is the property of the teacher rather than a medium evoking the critical reflection of both teacher and students. Hence in the name of the "preservation of and knowledge" we have a system which achieves neither true knowledge nor true culture.


The problem-posing method does not dichotomize the activity of teacher-student: she is not "cognitive" at one point and "narrative" at another. She is always "cognitive," whether preparing a project or engaging in dialogue with the students. He does not regard objects as his private property, but as the object of reflection by himself and his students. In this way, the problem-posing educator constantly re-forms his reflections in the reflection of the students. The students -- no longer docile listeners -- are now--critical co-investigators in dialogue with the teacher. The teacher presents the material to the students for their consideration, and re-considers her earlier considerations as the students express their own. The role of the problem-posing educator is to create, together with the students, the conditions under which knowledge at the level of the doxa is superseded by true knowledge at the level of the logos. Whereas banking education anesthetizes and inhibits creative power, problem-posing education involves a constant unveiling of reality. The former attempts to maintain the submersion of consciousness; the latter strives for the emergence of consciousness and critical intervention in reality.


Students, as they are increasingly posed with problems relating to themselves in the world and with the world, will feel increasingly challenged and obliged to respond to that challenge. Because they apprehend the challenge as interrelated to other problems within a total context not as a theoretical question, the resulting comprehension tends to be increasingly critical and thus constantly less alienated. Their response to the challenge evokes new challenges, followed by new understandings; and gradually the students come to regard themselves as committed.
Education as the practice of freedom -- as opposed to education as the practice of domination -- denies that man is abstract, isolated, independent and unattached to the world; it also denies that the world exists as a reality apart from people. Authentic reflection considers neither abstract man nor the world without people, but people in their relations with the world. In these relations consciousness and world are simultaneous: consciousness neither precedes the world nor follows it.

La conscience et le monde sont dormes dun meme coup: exterieur par essence a la conscience, le monde est, par essence relatif a elle. (8)


[Footnote #8: Sartre, op. cit., p. 32.]


In one of our culture circles in Chile, the group was discussing (based on a codification) the anthropological concept of culture. In the midst of the discussion, a peasant who by banking standards was completely ignorant said: "Now I see that without man there is no world." When the educator responded: "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that all the men on earth were to die, but that the earth remained, together with trees, birds, animals, rivers, seas, the stars. . . wouldn't all this be a world?" "Oh no," the peasant replied . "There would be no one to say: 'This is a world'."


The peasant wished to express the idea that there would be lacking the consciousness of the world which necessarily implies the world of consciousness. I cannot exist without a non-I. In turn, the not-I depends on that existence. The world which brings consciousness into existence becomes the world of that consciousness. Hence, the previously cited affirmation of Sartre: "La conscience et le monde sont dormes d'un meme coup."


As women and men, simultaneously reflecting on themselves and world, increase the scope of their perception, they begin to direct their observations towards previously inconspicuous phenomena:

In perception properly so-called, as an explicit awareness [Gewahren], I am turned towards the object, to the paper, for instance. I apprehend it as being this here and now. The apprehension is a singling out, every object having a background in experience. Around and about the paper lie books, pencils, inkwell and so forth, and these in a certain sense are also "perceived," perceptually there, in the "field of intuition"; but whilst I was turned towards the paper there was no turning in their direction, nor any apprehending of them, not even in a secondary sense. They appeared and yet were not singled out, were posited on their own account. Every perception of a thing has such a zone of background intuitions or background awareness, if "intuiting" already includes the state of being turned towards, and this also is a "conscious experience", or more briefly a "consciousness of" all indeed that in point of fact lies in the co-perceived objective background. (10)


[Footnote #10: Edmund Husserl, Ideas-General Introduction to Pure Phenomenology (London, 1969), pp. 105-106.]


That which had existed objectively but had not been perceived in its deeper implications (if indeed it was perceived at all) begins to "stand out," assuming the character of a problem and therefore of challenge. Thus, men and women begin to single out elements from their "background awareness" and to reflect upon them. These elements are now objects of their consideration, and, as such, objects of their action and cognition.


In problem-posing education, people develop their power to perceive critically the way they exist in the world with which and in which they find themselves; they come to see the world not as a static reality, but as a reality in process, in transformation. Although the dialectical relations of women and men with the world exist independently of how these relations are perceived (or whether or not they are perceived at all), it is also true that the form of action they adopt is to a large extent a function of how they perceive themselves in the world. Hence, the teacher-student and the students-teachers reflect simultaneously on themselves and the world without dichotomizing this reflection from action, and thus establish an authentic form of thought and action.


Once again, the two educational concepts and practices under analysis come into conflict. Banking education (for obvious reasons) attempts, by mythicizing reality, to conceal certain facts which explain the way human beings exist in the world; problem-posing education sets itself the task of demythologizing. Banking education resists dialogue; problem-posing education regards dialogue as indispensable to the act of cognition which unveils reality. Banking education treats students as objects of assistance; problem-posing education makes them critical thinkers. Banking education inhibits creativity and domesticates (although it cannot completely destroy) the intentionality of consciousness by isolating consciousness from the world, thereby denying people their ontological and historical vocation of becoming more fully human. Problem-posing education bases itself on creativity and stimulates true reflection and action upon reality, thereby responding to the vocation of persons as beings only when engaged in inquiry and creative transformation. In sum: banking theory and practice, as immobilizing and fixating forces, fail to acknowledge men and women as historical beings; problem-posing theory and practice take the people's historicity as their starting point.


Problem-posing education affirms men and women as beings the process of becoming -- as unfinished, uncompleted beings in and with a likewise unfinished reality. Indeed, in contrast to other animals who are unfinished, but not historical, people know themselves to be unfinished; they are aware of their incompletion. In this incompletion and this awareness lie the very roots of education as an human manifestation. The unfinished character of human beings and the transformational character of reality necessitate that education be an ongoing activity.
Education is thus constantly remade in the praxis. In order to be, it must become. Its "duration" (in the Bergsonian meaning of the word) is found in the interplay of the opposites permanence and change. The banking method emphasizes permanence and becomes problem-posing education -- which accepts neither a "well-behaved" present nor a predetermined future -- roots itself in the dynamic present and becomes revolutionary.


Problem-posing education is revolutionary futurity. Hence it is prophetic (and as such, hopeful). Hence, it corresponds to the historical nature of humankind. Hence, it affirms women and men as who transcend themselves, who move forward and look ahead, for whom immobility represents a fatal threat for whom looking at the past must only be a means of understanding more clearly what and who they are so that they can more wisely build the future. Hence, it identifies with the movement which engages people as beings aware of their incompletion -- an historical movement which has its point of departure, its Subjects and its objective.


The point of departure of the movement lies in the people themselves. But since people do not exist apart from the world, apart from reality, the movement must begin with the human-world relationship. Accordingly, the point of departure must always be with men and women in the "here and now," which constitutes the situation within which they are submerged, from which they emerge, and in which they intervene. Only by starting from this situation -- which determines their perception of it -- can they begin to move. To do this authentically they must perceive their state not as fated and unalterable, but merely as limiting - and therefore challenging.


Whereas the banking method directly or indirectly reinforces men's fatalistic perception of their situation, the problem-posing method presents this very situation to them as a problem. As the situation becomes the object of their cognition, the naive or magical perception which produced their fatalism gives way to perception which is able to perceive itself even as it perceives reality, and can thus be critically objective about that reality.


A deepened consciousness of their situation leads people to apprehend that situation as an historical reality susceptible of transformation. Resignation gives way to the drive for transformation and inquiry, over which men feel themselves to be in control. If people, as historical beings necessarily engaged with other people in a movement of inquiry, did not control that movement, it would be (and is) a violation of their humanity. Any situation in which some individuals prevent others from engaging in the process of inquiry is one of violence. The means used are not important; to alienate human beings from their own decision-making is to change them into objects.


This movement of inquiry must be directed towards humanization -- the people's historical vocation. The pursuit of full humanity, however, cannot be carried out in isolation or individualism, but only in fellowship and solidarity; therefore it cannot unfold in the antagonistic relations between oppressors and oppressed. No one can be authentically human while he prevents others from being so. Attempting to be more human, individualistically, leads to having more, egotistically, a form of dehumanization. Not that it is not fundamental to have in order to be human. Precisely because it is necessary, some men's having must not be allowed to constitute an obstacle to others' having, must not consolidate the power of the former to crush the latter.


Problem-posing education, as a humanist and liberating praxis, posits as fundamental that the people subjected to domination must fight for their emancipation. To that end, it enables teachers and students to become Subjects of the educational process by overcoming authoritarianism and an alienating intellectualism; it also enables people to overcome their false perception of reality. The world -- no longer something to be described with deceptive words -- becomes the object of that transforming action by men and women which results in their humanization.


Problem-posing education does not and cannot serve the interests of the oppressor. No oppressive order could permit the oppressed to begin to question: Why? While only a revolutionary society can carry out this education in systematic terms, the revolutionary leaders need not take full power before they can employ the method. In the revolutionary process, the leaders cannot utilize the banking method as an interim measure, justified on grounds of expediency, with intention of later behaving in a genuinely revolutionary fashion. They must be revolutionary -- that is to say, dialogical -- from the outset.

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4. Learning to Listen to Students and Oneself (Pedagogy, ESL, composition)

บทความนี้น่าสนใจหลายจุดนะครับ ไม่ว่าจะเป็นเรื่อง
  • การสอน เราควรสอนยังไงโดยเฉพาะในยุคที่ห้องเรียนไม่ได้มีเพียงคนที่พูดภาษาอังกฤษเป็นภาษาหลัก แต่ผมก็อยากจะเสนอแนะว่าบทความนี้อาจารย์ทั่วไปก็อ่านได้ ไม่จำเป็นต้องเป็นอาจารย์ที่สอน ESL เท่านั้น ถ้าเรามองคำว่า "different" เป็นความแตกต่างทางด้านเพศ เชื้อชาติ ศาสนานะครับ แน่นอนนักเรียนในห้องเรียนเราไม่ได้มีแต่ผู้ชายเท่านั้น ไม่ได้มีแค่คนที่นับถือศาสนาพุทธเท่านั้น เป็นต้น
  • composition ด้านล่างสุดของบทความ Sieber พูดถึงเรื่องการเขียนและการใช้การเขียนในกระบวนการเรียนนะครับ
  • ความร่วมมือกันของอาจารย์ในแต่ละฝ่าย ผมเคยเขียนไว้ทีนึงว่าถ้าเราจะช่วยให้นักเรียนเขียนได้จริงๆ (ไม่ใช่เพียงแค่สอบผ่าน) อาจารย์ทุกคนต้องช่วยกัน อย่าปล่อยให้เป็นแค่หน้าที่ของอาจารย์ใน English Department เท่านั้น (ใช้ภาษาอังกฤษแทนภาษาไทย -- อักษรศาสตร์ ศิลปศาสตร์ มนุษยศาสตร์ -- เพื่อไม่ให้เกิดข้อโต้แย้งว่าผมพูดถึงมหาวิทยาลัยใดเป็นหลักหรือเปล่านะครับ) แต่มันเป็นหน้าที่ของอาจารย์ทุกคณะ

Learning to Listen to Students and Oneself


Excerpted (Pp. 61-66) from "Learning to Listen to Students and Oneself" Tim Sieber.

Achieving Against the Odds: How Academics Become Teachers of Diverse Students Esther Kingston-Mann and Tim Sieber, Eds.Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2001


"It is in listening to the student that I learn how to speak with him or her." -
Paulo Freire (1)


At the end of the semester, I was reading a student's fairly conventional research paper on "Effects of Adoption on the Family" for my interdisciplinary course on "Childhood in America" and reached that last, unexpected sentence: the student had written, "I'm very familiar with this situation, since my brother is adopted." There it was again - so odd, I thought - that brief mention at the end, almost an afterthought, of a personal connection to the paper topic. For this student, I had never imagined that he had an adopted brother until I read the last sentence.

At first I thought it was a coincidence that students often chose topics of personal interest, even if they alluded to their personal link in such limited ways. Having given them completely free choice on the paper topic, so long as it concerned problems of children in the United States, I wondered if this effect were just random. It did seem, however, that students often chose topics - adoption, divorce, single-parent families, immigration, etc. - related to their life experiences, even if this leaked through their work in indirect ways. It crossed my mind, at times, whether it was appropriate, or maybe even an easy way out for them, when students chose topics they were so personally connected to. If social and cultural analysis was suitable only for applying to the "other," the unfamiliar, or the different, did a personal connection with the material hamper, rather than help, effective learning?

Still, papers like this suggested to me in some inchoate way that there was a puzzling disconnect between personal experience and academic analysis in the work that students were doing in my course. Why didn't the students discuss the link earlier, and more openly? I spent some years observing this pattern, though remaining a little uncomfortable with it. In my early teaching, two decades or more ago, I unconsciously assumed that participation in the academic enterprise, and academic achievement itself, required - even depended on - such a disconnection. It was the pattern I had learned earlier as the secret to success, and my own entry as a student, into the academic world….

Learning How to Teach from Supportive Colleagues

Supportive, knowledgeable campus colleagues have always been essential in my growth and learning as a teacher. Several departmental colleagues as individuals have always been dedicated teachers who as friends and collaborators have always helped me, especially in the years when I was struggling to find new teaching strategies that would work better for me and the students. In the early years of my career, however, the overall faculty understanding of teaching at the university was quite traditional educationally. Teaching was defined as a matter of ensuring that students mastered basic bodies of fixed, expert knowledge, and few departments in the arts and sciences disciplines welcomed much critical examination of pedagogy, student learning, or educational philosophy.

Faculty deliberations about teaching were infrequent, usually limited to discussions over what content should be transmitted, and even more so to complaint sessions about students' abilities, unpreparedness, and propensity to evade what the faculty thought they should learn. Colleagues in many departments continually resisted discussing pedagogy or assessment in department meetings, insisting that superior credentials in research are what make faculty good, qualified teachers. Teaching was also seen as decidedly secondary in importance to scholarship: in yearly merit awards until recently, for example, writing one short book review normally brought a higher salary increase than developing and teaching a new course, or even creating an entirely new curricular program. Furthermore, faculty did not encourage meaningful critical input or feedback from the students on curriculum matters, or even on individual courses. Student course evaluations were depreciated as unreliable instruments; high marks from students were suspected of measuring popularity, easy grading, or questionable standards. Low marks from students, in contrast, were thought to show the faculty were "rigorous" teachers with "high standards." …

…[I]t has always been chiefly through involvement in multi-disciplinary contexts with colleagues and programs outside my own department that I have found the most practical help and intellectual support in rethinking and changing my teaching practices. The most important of these involvements was an early 1990's grassroots faculty, staff and student movement, linked to our Center for the Improvement of Teaching, for transforming the university curriculum to take more account of diversity. I became a part of the effort early on. Our movement and proposals for change involved not simply curriculum content and academic requirements, but also implied significant attention to pedagogy. I joined a series of ongoing conversations, formal and informal seminars, forums, and conferences with colleagues about making our teaching more responsive, in pedagogy as well as content, to our university's unusual, older, essentially "non-traditional," and culturally diverse student body. A number of these activities were funded by the Ford Foundation. Three times I have been able to discuss my Childhood course in detail in faculty seminars, and receive helpful, constructive criticisms from colleagues. My participation in this supportive collegial network, and my valuable learning through it, including from most of the contributors to this volume, continue today.

Featuring culturally diverse voices and experiences in the curriculum had always been a given for me as anthropologist, as the cross-cultural, comparative approach is the traditional orientation of my field. My greatest changes as a teacher came in the realm of pedagogy. My own department's program, and my own practices within it, made clear to me the limitations of seeing teaching as simply an issue of content alone, of seeing the core of the teaching act as the professor's transmission of knowledge to the student. Colleagues and my students increasingly helped me to understand how much teaching constitutes a dialogue with students, in which who the students are, and what they think, is central to the learning equation, and to shaping the faculty's own contributions to the educational encounter. It was becoming more and more clear to me that to be an effective teacher I had to offer more support for my students to tell me about themselves and their own thinking than I had been doing.

At this same time, I also began teaching a new course on cross-cultural relations within the university's Applied Linguistics masters program, which trains teachers to work with non-native speakers of English, mostly immigrant minorities. The program is deeply influenced by a Freirean philosophy and inspiringly directed by Donaldo Macedo, a close collaborator of
Paolo Freire (2). Participation in this program allowed me to rediscover Freire, who visited campus a number of times, and with colleagues' encouragement, such as Donaldo's, to examine the relevance of his critical pedagogy for my own teaching.

Freire's critique of the "banking" model of education had pointed directly to the teaching practices modeled in my own education. Freire's own emphasis on seeing teaching as a dialogue, in which both teacher and student learn, made increasing sense to me, as did his other key ideas, especially (1) his advocacy of grounding learning in themes culturally relevant to the lives and daily practice of students, and (2) his emphasis on the need that all learners have to critically construct new information in the light of their existing knowledge and experience. Freire's teachings confirmed that I should include materials, wherever possible, relevant to areas of problem-solving, application and experience in students' lives: this was not hard to do in courses on educational application, or on childhood. He also made clear that I should welcome students' interrogation of new information, through writing and discussion, in the light of their previous learning and experience, and their need for active critical understanding and practice in remaking their own worlds outside of school (emphasis mine).

Most of all, the students in Applied Linguistics were a key impetus for making me rethink my approaches to teaching. These were the first classes on culture that I had ever taught where students of color, often immigrant students who spoke two, three, or more languages, usually made up the majority. Material I taught on multicultural relations that seemed more abstract and conceptually cut-and-dried in my predominantly white undergraduate classes, had much more resonance in this class where most students lived those multicultural realities concretely for their entire lives, and were already mostly practicing teachers themselves, whose own students were also linguistic, usually ethnic/"racial" minorities.

My students had a lot to say, to confirm, augment, expand, illustrate, explain, and sometimes revise the course materials. Minority students were not so quiet as they were in my predominantly white classes, and made their voices and perspectives heard, for example, on their own experiences of racial barriers or their own or their students' struggles over identity. It became more obvious to me than ever before, in any class, that my students had much to teach me and one another, and that the most educationally productive class would be one where all our voices - students' as well as my own - were strongly represented in recurrent written and spoken dialogue on the issues at hand. In all of this, the irony of my being a white man teaching this mixed class did not escape me.

In my early years of teaching that course, and especially the first time, I had to struggle mightily with a feeling that I was somehow neglecting my duty by not monopolizing the class communication: Was it irresponsible not to work harder toward asserting my authority as an expert, even in the face of the recognition that my expertise in handling these issues was still limited? I had all these doubts despite my students' positive evaluations of the course, and my own high satisfaction, even excitement, with the level of engagement and quality of work the students had offered. Old models of teaching die hard.

Meanwhile, learning from workshops with English Department colleagues conversant in composition theory and process-writing, I began experimenting with asking students to do more informal types of writing that would encourage them to register more freely their thinking about the course material, first in my class on childhood, and eventually in all my other classes. The channel of written communication that proved to be the most useful to me was the weekly, ungraded critical reading journal. The broad guidelines I gave students asked them to critically engage with the course material, to reflect on their learning process in the course, and on how their new learning connected with what they already knew, both from their wider studies and from their professional or life experiences. The students could choose each week which issues to address, and how to write about them.

(1) Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of Freedom: Ethics, Democracy, and Civic Courage. Patrick Clarke, trans. (New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 1998), p. 106
(2) Donaldo Macedo, Literacies of Power: What Americans Are Not Allowed to Know (Boulder, Colorado: Westview, 1994)

ที่มา http://www.umb.edu/faculty_staff/about/sieber.html



© 2006 All Rights Reserved. บทความทุกชิ้นในเวบนี้มีลิขสิทธิ์นะครับ ผมอนุญาตให้นำไปเผยแพร่ได้ แต่ว่าต้องมีการลิงค์กลับมาที่นี่ด้วยเท่านั้น ผมอุตส่าห์เขียนเพื่อแบ่งปันความรู้ให้กับคนอ่าน ดังนั้นอย่า "ขโมย" ไปแปะแล้วทำเหมือนตัวเองเขียนเองโดยเด็ดขาด ผมจะเอาเรื่องถึงที่สุด!

3. The Five-Paragraph Theme Redux (Composition)

พูดถึงคำว่า Five-Paragraph theme คนไทยหลายๆ คนอาจจะฟังไม่ค่อยคุ้นหูเท่าไหร่นะครับ แต่ว่าจริงๆ แล้วสำหรับคนที่เตรียมตัวสอบหลายๆ คนใช้มันอยู่บ่อยๆ จำได้ไหมครับที่อาจารย์ตามสถาบันหรือว่าหนังสือเตรียมตัวสอบหลายๆ เล่มบอกว่า "เรียงความที่ดีต้องมี introdution (1 ย่อหน้า), body (3 ย่อหน้า), conclusion (1 ย่อหน้า) และ body จะต้องสนับสนุน introduction" นี่แหละครับที่เราเรียกกันว่า Five-paragraph theme

ผมไม่ได้บอกว่าการเขียนแบบนี้ไม่ดีนะครับ อย่าเพิ่งเข้าใจผิด มันเป็นรูปแบบการเขียนที่ช่วยให้เราประหยัดเวลา คือไม่ต้องมานั่งคิดอะไรมากในห้องสอบ อีกทั้งยังช่วยให้เรามั่นใจมากขึ้น หรือว่าอย่างที่ Rorschach เขียนไว้ในบทความข้างล่างมันให้ "security offered by a preset structure" แต่ก็อย่าเพิ่งเข้าใจผิดว่าผมสนับสนุนการฝึกฝนการเขียนแบบนี้นะครับ เพราะว่าการเขียนแบบนี้มีข้อเสียหลายอย่าง ไม่เพียงแต่ข้อเสียในด้านการเขียนระดับสูง แต่ในด้านความคิดอีกด้วยครับ

เนื่องจากว่าเป็นโชคดีของผมที่ทางเวบไซต์เขียนบทคัดย่อมาให้แล้ว ผมเลยขออนุญาตเอามาแปะเลยแล้วกันนะครับ (แต่ผมก็อ่านจบทั้งบทความแล้วน้า เดี๋ยวจะหาว่าไม่อ่าน) และหลังจากบทคัดย่อ ผมก็แปะย่อหน้าที่น่าสนใจไว้หนึ่งย่อหน้านะครับ เพื่อเป็นการดึงดูดให้อ่านกันต่อ (ไม่รู้ว่าจะดึงดูดหรือทำให้หนีกันแน่ ฮ่าๆ) ไปอ่านกันเลยครับ

ออเกือบลืมบอกไปว่า เนื่องจากบทความนี้ยาวนะครับ ก็อ่านได้ที่ลิงค์ล่างสุดของบลอกนี้นะครับ




The Five-Paragraph Theme Redux
By Elizabeth Rorschach


Summary: Elizabeth Rorschach argues that the problem with the five-paragraph theme isn’t the number of paragraphs but the preset format that lulls students into non-thinking conformity. In this essay, she contends that teachers obsessed by form become fellow conspirators in the triumph of form over content.

"Marina’s [one of Rorschach's students] stunned silence, and her drafts of, predictably, exactly five paragraphs, told me she had grown to rely on the security offered by a preset structure, one she had mastered over years of schooling. It’s difficult to argue against the apparent success of a form that pleases so many teachers and students in its simplicity and straightforwardness. And, I have to admit, Marina’s papers were good and she earned a B in the course. Yet, when I carefully read my students’ essays for depth of content, I find myself terribly disappointed by how shallow and un-thought-out most of the five-paragraph essays are" (emphasis mine).



อ่านกันเต็มๆ ที่นี่ครับ: http://www.writingproject.org/cs/05sm/print/nwpr/1287



© 2006 All Rights Reserved. บทความทุกชิ้นในเวบนี้มีลิขสิทธิ์นะครับ ผมอนุญาตให้นำไปเผยแพร่ได้ แต่ว่าต้องมีการลิงค์กลับมาที่นี่ด้วยเท่านั้น ผมอุตส่าห์เขียนเพื่อแบ่งปันความรู้ให้กับคนอ่าน ดังนั้นอย่า "ขโมย" ไปแปะแล้วทำเหมือนตัวเองเขียนเองโดยเด็ดขาด ผมจะเอาเรื่องถึงที่สุด!

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

0. Introduction to my anthology

Introduction to Anthology for the Readers of my Blog
By Dialogue on Writing

I've always dreamed of

(a) putting together a set of readings that influences my thinking about issues like composition (or writing, if you wish), pedagogy (or teaching), ESL, literary theory, and gender studies; and
(b) sharing those readings to (Thai) people who share with me the same interests.

And here it comes--Anthology for the Readers of my Blog.

I understand that not all of you can spare the time to read all of the readings posted here (let's face it--some of them will be damn long and even technical!), so attached to each of them will be a brief summary of its content. Feel free then, to traverse the blog, read the content summary, and pick out those that grab your interest.

Because this anthology and my main blogspot (
http://dialogueonwriting.blogspot.com) are complementary, they share the same notion underlying their creation -- to get all of us involved in a dialogue. Help me, please, to create a meaningful dialogue by sharing either your thoughts on the blogspot or any interesting, relevant articles on the anthology. If reviewed and deemed appropriate to the content of the anthology, they'll be posted here.

Enjoy!!


Dialogue on Writing
Citizen of the World, 2006


© 2006 All Rights Reserved. บทความทุกชิ้นในเวบนี้มีลิขสิทธิ์นะครับ ผมอนุญาตให้นำไปเผยแพร่ได้ แต่ว่าต้องมีการลิงค์กลับมาที่นี่ด้วยเท่านั้น ผมอุตส่าห์เขียนเพื่อแบ่งปันความรู้ให้กับคนอ่าน ดังนั้นอย่า "ขโมย" ไปแปะแล้วทำเหมือนตัวเองเขียนเองโดยเด็ดขาด ผมจะเอาเรื่องถึงที่สุด!

2. Introduction to Ways of Reading (Composition)

หลายๆ คนมองการเขียนเป็นเรื่องที่แยก ตัดขาดจากการอ่านนะครับ แต่จริงๆ แล้วผมเชื่อว่าการเขียนกับการอ่านแยกกันไม่ได้เด็ดขาด บทความสั้นๆ ข้างล่างแนะนำวิธีการการอีกรูปแบบหนึ่ง รูปแบบนี้อยู่ภายใต้ชื่อที่ใครๆ รู้จักว่า "Active Reading" ครับ


Introduction to Ways of Reading
David Bartholomae and Anthony Petrosky

Making A Mark


Reading involves a fair measure of push and shove. You make your mark on a book and it makes its mark on you. Reading is not simply a matter of hanging back and waiting for a piece, or its author, to tell you what the writing has to say. In fact, one of the difficult things about reading is that the pages before you will begin to speak only when the authors are silent and you begin to speak in their place, sometimes for them doing their work, continuing their projects and sometimes for yourself, following your own agenda.


This is an usual way to talk about reading, we know. We have not mentioned finding information or locating an author’s purpose or identifying main ideas, useful though these skills are, because the purpose of reading in our book is to offer you occasions to imagine other ways of reading. We think of reading as a social interaction sometimes peaceful and polite, sometimes not so peaceful and polite.


We’d like you to imagine that when you read the works we’ve collected here, somebody is saying something to you, and we’d like you to imagine that you are in a position to speak back, to say something of your own in turn. In other words, we are not presenting our book as a miniature library (a place to find information) and we do not think of you, the reader, as a term-paper writers (a person looking for information to write down on three-by-five cards).


When you read, you hear an author’s voice as you move along; you believe a person with something to say is talking to you. You pay attention, even when you don’t completely understand what is being said, , trusting that it will all make sense in the end, relating what the author says to what you already know or expect to hear or learn. Even if you don’t quite grasp everything you are reading at every moment (and you won’t), and even if you don’t remember everything you’ve read (no reader does at least not in long, complex pieces), you begin to see the outlines of the author’s project, the patterns and rhythms of that particular way of seeing and interpreting the world.


When you stop to talk or write about what you’ve read, the author is silent; you take over it is your turn to write, to begin to respond to what the author said. At that point this author and his or her text become something you construct out of what you remember or what you notice as you go back through the text a second time, working from passages or examples but filtering them through your own predisposition to see or read in particular ways.


In “The Achievement of Desire,” one of the essays in Ways of Reading, Richard Rodriguez tells the story of his education, of how he was drawn to imitate his teachers because of his desire to think and speak like them. His is not a simple story of hard work and success, however. In a sense, Rodriguez’s education gave him what he wanted status, knowledge, a way of understanding himself and his position in the world. At the same time, his education made it difficult to talk to his parents, to share their point of view; and to a degree, he felt himself becoming consumed by the powerful ways of seeing and understanding represented by his reading and his education. The essay can be seen as Rodriguez’s attempt to weigh what he had gained against what he had lost.


If ten of us read his essay, each would begin with the same words on the page, but when we discuss the chapter (or write about it), each will retell and interpret Rodriguez’s story differently; we will emphasize different sections some, for instance, might want to discuss the strange way Rodriguez learned to read, others might be taken by his difficult and changing relations to his teachers, and still others might want to think about Rodriguez’s remarks about his mother and father.


Each of us will come to his or her own sense of what is significant, of what the point is, and the odds are good that what each of us makes of the essay will vary from one to another. Each of us will understand Rodriguez’s story in his or her own way, even though we read the same piece. At the same time, if we are working with Rodriguez’s essay (and not putting it aside or ignoring its peculiar way of thinking about education), we will be working within a framework he has established, one that makes education stand, metaphorically, for a complicated interplay between permanence and change, imitation and freedom, loss and achievement.


In “The Achievement of Desire,” Rodriguez tells of reading a book by Richard Hoggart, The Uses of Literacy. He was captivated by a section of this book in which Hoggart defines a particular kind of student, the “scholarship boy.” Here is what Rodriguez says:

Then one day, leafing through Richard Hoggart’s The Uses of Literacy, I found, in his description of the scholarship boy, myself. For the first time I realized there were other students like me, and so I was able to frame the meaning of my academic success, its consequent price the loss.


For Rodriguez, this phrase, “scholarship boy,” became the focus of Hoggart’s book. Other people, to be sure, would read that book and take different phrases or sections as the key to what Hoggart has to say. Some might argue that Rodriguez misread the book, that it is really about something else, about British culture, for example, or about the class system in England. The power and value of Rodriguez’s reading, however, are represented by what he is able to do with what he read, and what he was able to do was not record information or summarize main ideas but, as he says, “frame the meaning of my academic success.” Hoggart provided a frame, a way for Rodriguez to think and talk about his own history as a student. As he goes on in his essay, Rodriguez not only uses the frame to talk about his experience, but he resists it, argues with it. He casts his experience in Hoggart’s terms but then makes those terms work for him by seeing both what they can and what they cannot do. This combination of reading, thinking, and writing is what we mean by strong reading, a way of reading we like to encourage in our students.


When we have taught “The Achievement of Desire” to our students, it has been almost impossible for them not to see themselves in Rodriguez’s description of the scholarship boy (and this was true of students who were not minority students and not literally on scholarships). They, too, have found a way of framing (even inventing) their own lives as students students whose histories involve both success and loss. When we have asked students to write about this essay, however, some students have argued, and quite convincingly, that Rodriguez had either to abandon his family and culture or remain ignorant. Other students have argued equally convincingly that Rodriguez’s anguish was destructive and self-serving, that he was trapped into seeing his situation in terms that he might have replaced with others. He did not necessarily have to turn his back on his family. Some have contended that Rodriguez’s problems with his family had nothing to do with what he says about education, that he himself shows how imitation need not blindly lead a person away from his culture, and these student essays, too, have been convincing.


Reading, in other words, can be the occasion for you to put things together, to notice this idea or theme rather than that one, to follow a writer’s announced or secret ends while simultaneously following your own. When this happens, when you forge a reading of a story or an essay, you make your mark on it, casting it in your own terms. But the story makes its mark on you as well, teaching you not only about a subject (Rodriguez’s struggles with his teachers and parents, for example) but about a way of seeing and understanding a subject. The text provides the opportunity for you to see through someone else’s powerful language, to imagine your own familiar settings through the images, metaphors, and ideas of others. Rodriguez’s essay, in other words, can make its mark on readers, but they, too, if they are strong, active readers, can make theirs on it.


Readers learn to put things together by writing. It is not something you can do, at least not to any degree, while you are reading. It requires that you work on what you have read, and that work best takes shape when you sit down to write. We will have more to say about this kind of thinking in a later section of the introduction, but for now let us say that writing gives you a way of going to work on the text you have read. To write about a story or essay, you go back to what you have read to find phrases or passages that define what for you are the key moments, that help you interpret sections that seem difficult or troublesome or mysterious. If you are writing an essay of your own, the work that you are doing gives a purpose and a structure to that rereading.


Writing also, however, gives you a way of going back to work on the text of your own reading. It allows you to be self-critical. You can revise not just to make your essay neat or tidy but to see what kind of reader you have been, to examine the pattern and consequences in the choices you have made. Revision, in other words, gives you the chance to work on your essay, but it also gives you an opportunity to work on your reading to qualify or extend or question your interpretation of, say, “The Achievement of Desire.”


We can describe this process of “re-vision,” or re-seeing, fairly simply. You should not expect to read “The Achievement of Desire” once and completely understand the essay or know what you want to say. You will work out what you have to say while you write. And once you have constructed a reading once you have completed a draft of your essay, in other words you can step back, see what you have done, and go back to work on it. Through this activity writing and rewriting we have seen our students become strong, active, and critical readers.


ที่มา http://www2.english.uiuc.edu/finnegan/Rhetoric%20133/ways_of_reading.htm

© 2006 All Rights Reserved. บทความทุกชิ้นในเวบนี้มีลิขสิทธิ์นะครับ ผมอนุญาตให้นำไปเผยแพร่ได้ แต่ว่าต้องมีการลิงค์กลับมาที่นี่ด้วยเท่านั้น ผมอุตส่าห์เขียนเพื่อแบ่งปันความรู้ให้กับคนอ่าน ดังนั้นอย่า "ขโมย" ไปแปะแล้วทำเหมือนตัวเองเขียนเองโดยเด็ดขาด ผมจะเอาเรื่องถึงที่สุด!

1. "How I Gamed the SAT" (Composition)

หลายๆ คนต้องเคยผ่านการสอบแบบจับเวลา -- เช่น TWE, GRE, หรือ SAT -- มาแล้วแน่ๆ แต่เคยรู้หรือเปล่าครับว่าคนอ่าน หรือว่าคนที่ให้คะแนนเราหนะเราตรวจ essay ของพวกเรายังไง ในบทความ "How I Gamed the SAT" ด้านล่างคนเขียนพูดถึงสิ่งที่ตัวเค้าเองถูกฝึกก่อนที่จะเป็นคนให้คะแนน essay นอกจากนี้ตอนท้ายยังแนะนำวิธีการทำข้อสอบแบบนี้ด้วยคร้าบบ


How I Gamed the SAT
By Karin Klein (Karin Klein is a Times editorial writer.)
April 3, 2005


I wasn't supposed to stop dead in the middle of grading the new essay portion of the SAT. In my stint as a scorer, I had learned the rules: Read quickly, read once, don't stop to analyze, but assign a score from 1 (bottom) to 6 (top) based on my overall impression. So, as I cringed over a preposterous assertion in this 34th or 52nd essay on the topic, "Secrecy: Good or Bad?" I should have known my scoring on this one would be counted as "wrong."

I kept forgetting another rule: In the SAT essay, it's OK to write something that lacks a factual basis.

The University of California had been on the verge of dropping the SAT as an admissions requirement when the College Board reconstituted the test, adding an 800-point writing segment. The persuasive essay counts for about 30% of that score, and a lot of overachievers who are more comfortable with Scantron than scribbling are very nervous.

To find out what the new SAT essay is like, I persuaded the College Board and Pearson Educational Measurement, which does the scoring, to train me as a reader. I attended a morning workshop that tried us out on a handful of essays. Then I took Pearson's self-paced, online course and several tests. To qualify as a reader, I'd have to score a certain number of essays at or close to a predetermined grade.

What I learned is that, like anything else, the essay test can be gamed. (For that matter, the test to qualify as a reader can be gamed.) Readers are supposed to score essays based on whether the writing is organized, well reasoned and written with logical and writerly complexity. Readers are supposed to overlook minor errors in grammar and spelling. Varied sentences and vocabulary are good, and smooth transitions help. We're supposed to overlook the kind of examples students use to back up their arguments — personal anecdote is as valid as a riff from Renaissance history. Nor does it matter if there's any truth to the example used. So if kids tell you (and they do) that revealing secrets staves off insanity, just suspend all critical thinking and go with it.

I had been warned that as a journalist I would be too tough on the kids. I would forget to see past the occasionally awkward transitions or stumbles of grammar. On the contrary, I felt immensely sympathetic toward almost anyone who managed to string together semi-clear sentences. Imagine having 25 minutes to read a couple of contrasting quotes on a topic and comprehend the assignment, think of what position to take, come up with examples, and then figure out how to organize all this into lovely prose. I write persuasive essays for a living, and my editor can attest that I've never completed one in 25 minutes.

To qualify as a reader, I had to score three sets of 10 essays. On at least one of those sets I had to match the pre-scored grade exactly on half the essays, and on 90% I had to be within one point of the accepted score.

There's a trick to this. The three bottom scores were easy to assign. A "1" was little more than a dribble of ungrammatical English, and a "2" was hardly more than that. A "3" was a well-meaning attempt to cobble three paragraphs together. The problem was in the 4-to-6 range. A "4" is a good piece — crisp, clear, organized. It seemed that the "complexity" and "layering" that the head folks looked for to get beyond that added up to little more than icing that any good editor would ax — extra examples, fancy words.

So I gave the bottom feeders the scores I thought they deserved, and scored the stronger pieces in the compromise range. If I thought it was at least a "4" but might be a "5," I'd go for "5" because it might be a "6," and at least I'd be "adjacent." By scoring many of the essays by what was safely "adjacent," rather than by what I thought they deserved, I passed all three qualifying sets.

There are other eccentricities: Students scored with multiple examples even if those added nothing to the argument. And though the Pearson folks will protest mightily that it's not so, higher scores seemed to go to writers who made sure at least one or two of their anecdotes were not personal. Current events win out over revealing the secret of a suicidal friend.

Length doesn't always mean a better score, but I would advise any kid: Write at least a page and a quarter. Nobody who got one of the top scores wrote one page or less. A few essays that struck me as clear, terse, logical and readable got strangely mediocre scores. More sadly, the test will reflect poorly on many a fine thinker and writer who contemplates deeply and composes through careful honing.

If I had to prepare my children for this test, I'd say: Prepackage some thinking. Get familiar with a couple of Greek myths or literary classics that would work for multiple themes. One of the very few essays to score a "6" — a well-earned one — used "Madame Bovary" to illustrate the harm secrets can do. But the writer could also have used Flaubert's classic to discuss image versus substance, or ambition versus contentment or almost any of the nostrums test-makers use as essay prompts. (Remember, most of the scorers are former or current English teachers — suckers for literary stuff.)

More advice: Prepare a few highly burnished words that can be applied to almost any situation. A prepared sentence or two wouldn't hurt. One essay struck me with its well-wrought line: "It may be the case, then, that secrecy has its own time and place in our vast world." I was dazzled by the calm maturity of that sentence — until I realized it could well have been composed in advance. Ritual has its own time and place in our vast world, as does protest, passion, tomfoolery — even testing. No matter, I gave the kid credit for planning. With so little time to write — in pencil, no less! — no one can afford to spend time actually thinking.

The main thing to love about the test is that many parents will hound the schools into teaching more writing. Loathe to read the effusions of 130 teenagers, teachers have minimized writing assignments. After my experience with mere dozens of "secret" essays, I'm all sympathy. But it's insane for everyone to talk about a rigorous curriculum when middle school and high school students — who should be well past life's mucilage stage — are assigned "reports" that involve little more than pasting pictures on poster board. No one can pretend that the SAT will measure brilliantly idiosyncratic writing and thinking, or that it remotely resembles real academic work.
Don't worry about it. In the arcane matrix of scoring rubrics, students who fare extremely well on the multiple-choice part of the writing test can get a perfect or close-to-perfect score without hitting a "6" on the essay. With a little prep work and a few high-flown literary allusions in hand, any grade-grubber can do it.

But I'm still stopped dead wondering why better-kept secrets would have prevented the Iraq war. I guess it's a secret.

ที่มา http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/sunday/commentary/la-op-sat3apr03,0,1355943.story?coll=la-sunday-commentary


© 2006 All Rights Reserved. บทความทุกชิ้นในเวบนี้มีลิขสิทธิ์นะครับ ผมอนุญาตให้นำไปเผยแพร่ได้ แต่ว่าต้องมีการลิงค์กลับมาที่นี่ด้วยเท่านั้น ผมอุตส่าห์เขียนเพื่อแบ่งปันความรู้ให้กับคนอ่าน ดังนั้นอย่า "ขโมย" ไปแปะแล้วทำเหมือนตัวเองเขียนเองโดยเด็ดขาด ผมจะเอาเรื่องถึงที่สุด!