The Day of Small Things

Time for reflection and repentance for not sustaining this conversation. Since the Fall Semester resumed, I have been mostly responding to news stories that outraged and intrigued me. Today I will try to  pick up the thread I dropped back in July: the joy and satisfaction of writing.

My text is Zechariah 4:10 – “Who despises the day of small things?” This verse drops into the midst of chapters on the apocalyptic visions of Zechariah, so I am not even sure how it sits in context. But it seemed to address the problem of writing for fun, rather than work.  “Small things” are the subjects we can write about daily, without addressing the “big things” of school reform, pronouncements of the Secretary of Education, and the failure of the “Dream Act.”  I have been guilty of dealing only with “big things” in this blog for the past six months. For this, I repent.

“Small things” are the topics of “expressive writing,” as I commented in the summer. The writing is done only for the satisfaction of writing, not for ulterior motives. It is both the most self-indulgent and the most rejuvenating writing we do. As I wrote in July,

With the proliferation of e-mail, texting, and blogging, this daily writing becomes more and more recreational, something that gives the writer pleasure in the act itself. She is not concerned with work accomplished by expressive writing, because she feels satisfaction in merely writing (July 19, 2010).

My point was that expressive writing was more inclusive and egalitarian than transactional writing and could be expected to get more people writing and feeling the benefit of writing.  I called this the horizontal axis of school reform: the axis that expands the field of writers without severely regulating what they write. I had traced this horizontal growth from the early 1970’s with the writing and research of Peter Elbow and James Britton.

The institution of the Common Core State Standards in Language Arts would be a more vertical trend in school reform, since words like “rigor”  and “high quality first draft text under a tight deadline” proliferate throughout the document.  Obviously the very notion of standards has a vertical momentum to it. Far be it from me to deny the vertical path to glory.

But my theme for 2011 will continue to be the “day of small things,” because I believe that ultimately better writers are motivated by more writers, and that writing can be fun as well as hard work.  The best analogy I can give is how water boils.

Water boils when all the molecules are in furious motion and not a moment before they reach 212 degrees Fahrenheit.  They start bumping each other and pretty soon they have the urge to evaporate. Then we get steam, a very productive form of the water molecule.   So productivity comes from individual and communal energy. The horizontal axis expands and the vertical axis rises to glory.

I am not claiming that the laws of physics pertain to literacy, but I am claiming that development of literacy is both horizontal and vertical. The small things we write about daily constitute the horizontal axis and should not be neglected.

Do not despise the “day of small things.” My New Year’s resolution and a word of encouragement for teachers of writing in 2011.

If Writing Were a Celebrity . . .

If writing were a celebrity, it would have a public and private image called “transactional” and “expressive” writing respectively.  The teaching of writing over the last forty years has been the struggle of the private persona to keep up with the public.  James Britton, who coined this distinction between the transaction and the expression, first reported in 1975  (Britton, Burgess, Martin, McLeod and Rosen) that the majority of writing in the British secondary schools was transactional.

In the public eye, writing is about business and politics, the power brokers of society.  Just peruse the Common Core Standards for Language Arts, published in June, 2010 and see the prominent text types are “Information/ explanation” and “Argument,” the staples of business and politics respectively.  Oh yes, Narrative was inserted in the three position, after some lobbying from literacy educators over the last year. But Narrative, as described here, is what Britton called “poetic” writing. If writing were a celebrity, “poetic writing” would be her avocation or hobby.

I realize personifying writing as I have, as a marriage partner (July 15) and as a celebrity, is a bit incredible and romantic, but the media personifies all kinds of objects today, from sports to music to decongestants, and it seems to convey their status and identity in society, not to mention attract consumers. And I am all about attracting consumers, or rather, practitioners, to writing.

Britton’s classification of writing’s facets has helped us understand how it works in our lives.  He allows the reader,  the consumer of the writing, to define what it is.  So if the reader is concerned with the information and message of the writing foremost, he calls it “transactional.” If the reader is most interested in the craft or technique of the writing, he calls it “poetic.” If the reader is most intrigued by the writer, the composer of the writing, he calls it “expressive.”

These personas of writing are really a continuum, in which one merges with the other, but Britton thought the most generative, the one that allowed writers to move in and out of the other personas, was “expressive.”  Expressive writing tells us about who the writer is, as he rambles in a journal, in a notebook, in reflection, in writing to explore an unfamiliar subject.  It is the entry point when writing is difficult or when a subject is being learned. It is the facet most interesting to the writer, himself, and to the teacher of writing. It is not typically published writing.

But the private lives of celebrities do attract the snooping public.  Although the proper subject of business and politics is the trends in the economy and in reforming legislation, we are very curious about the people who negotiate these changes.  Sometimes we begin to comprehend the arcane procedures of business and government by understanding the people who wield that power. And so it is for transactional and expressive writing.  We understand the transactional by our familiarity with the expressive facet of writing.

Returning to the writer of expressive writing, she finds everything easier to write about expressively and sometimes she even finds joy in writing in a diary, a reflective journal, a trip log, or a workout journal.  Unless her career depends on transactional or poetic writing, her satisfaction comes from the expressive mode that arises in daily life.  With the proliferation of e-mail, texting, and blogging, this daily writing becomes more and more recreational, something that gives the writer pleasure in the act itself. She is not concerned with work accomplished by expressive writing, because she feels satisfaction in merely writing.

Writing’s pleasurable, expressive identity is key to its gaining social and cultural prominence. While readers know they will find pleasure in their favorite genre, whether political columnists, graphic novels or mystery or romance, writers may know the pleasure of writing by indulging in its expressive forms. The rigors of grammar and convention are eased in expressive writing, and the writer has the privilege of exploring his favorite subject– himself and what he thinks.

The public persona of writing, the transactional, is a little disdainful of the private one. The private persona is not visibly productive or powerful in the commerce of society.  It seems self-indulgent and self-absorbed.  It does not deserve to be considered “serious” writing.  So it struggles for equity in the celebrity’s personality.

The struggle between the public and private persona of writing has continued lo, these forty years. Can this be a healthy struggle, a personality torn by conflict? More on the celebrity we know as  “writing” in the next installment.

Reference–

Britton, J., Burgess, T. , Martin, N.,  McLeod, A.,  and Rosen, H. (1975). The development of writing abilities of , 11-18. London: MacMillan.