Midterm

When I took my classmate's draft out of my bag, I felt an intense wave of apprehension crash over me. I had guarded it for the past days as if it was a precious jewel not to be misplaced or stained, and now as I looked down at its neatly ordered pages, my head was swimming. All the theories I had read during the semester were filed away in the recesses of my mind, and I worked frantically to find some sort of advice to help me through the session. My writer had told me that he had already met with his professor to discuss his ideas, that he had already had an appointment with his class consultant, and that he had already done some self-editing. In a moment of panic, I wondered if I was looking at the rare, nearly perfect paper that required my role to be one of an ultra-perfectionist, looking to make a tiny, nonessential suggestion here or there. While the principle that every paper can be improved nagged me, I skeptically wondered if this could be an exception. Perhaps as a novice consultant I wouldn't be able to pick up the improvements that those with more experience had not. What would I do?

As I closed my eyes, trying to locate any knowledge I possessed about tutoring strong writers, I was suddenly reminded of a reading from the beginning of the semester. In the article "My Teacher Hates Me," Valerie Perry refers to Kenneth Burkes' parlor metaphor. He talks about individual writing to be part of a never-ending conversation. "When you arrive," Burke says, "others have long preceded you." Yet after listening to the argument, you are able to add your input to this "interminable discussion." While Perry uses this metaphor to help students understand their role in the conversation through connecting audience, purpose, and voice (2), I think it is a applicable lesson for consultants as well. As a consultant, I am also in the parlor. I have been preceded by other writers, professors and even other consultants, but I am still a valuable part of the conversation. By simply having a different set of eyes and ideas, I represent to the the writer another potential member of the academic community. I have something to give to the writer, no matter how many others have already added to his paper.

While in theory I had understood this concept, it was not until I actually began to read over Erik's paper did I truly grasp my role as a member of the conversation. I tried to forget both my position as a consultant and my preconceived ideas of what his paper would be like and read it as who I truly am: a political science student eager to learn from an equal. After reading Straub's article, "The Concept of Control in Teacher Response," I was extremely aware of what I chose to say and in what manner I chose to say it in my commentary. Because I knew Erik was a strong writer, and he clearly had a strong understanding of his topic, I was even more careful to be non-directive in my feedback. I honestly did not think that he needed me to tell him "what is not working in the paper and what needs to be done" in his paper (Straub 226).

Instead, I tried to model Gere's style of response, one that "leaves the student room to make her own decisions and place greater responsibility on her as a writer than text-based advice" (Straub 242). I made comments that showed my own subjectivity as a reader like, "I feel" or "I'm not sure I understand" in order to distinction give the writer the OPTION of changing his work. I also tried to follow the concept of process-based response that Straub mentions. I asked Erik to consider his verb choice, to read certain sentences aloud in order to decide how to condense them. Keeping in mind my role as a reader, I asked questions about sentences I did not understand. While undeniably some of my questions were asked out of unfamiliarity with the topic, by asking them, I hoped that he would reconsider his audience and adjust the clarity of his ideas correspondingly. By being honest with my own uncertainties and thoughts about his work, I hoped to give an extremely strong writer the ability to see how his work would be perceived by an audience that included both experts and novices.

I am almost certain that I could have given Erik back his paper with absolutely no comments, and he would have received a good grade. But as a consultant-in-training, my goal is to make the student a better writer (North 38) and to make myself a better consultant. I started the consultation simply by asking Erik what aspects of the paper he was concerned about. Even after his two earlier consultations, he could identify areas that he felt may be weak. This confirmed the fact that he would be receptive to my comments, and was truly interested not only in improving his grade, but in improving his own understanding of how political science writing worked.

By taking Erik and his work seriously, I did not have to search through his paper looking for superfluous corrections as I feared. Instead, I allowed myself to completely embrace Molly Wingate's notion that writing centers are a source of shaping academic culture. I completely ignored the fact that this paper would be good enough to get the writer an A and instead thought about it solely in terms of the exchange and clarification of an idea. I wanted to understand, and I wanted Erik to communicate the ideas included in his thesis in the most clear way possible. I wanted him to show his proficiency as a writer, and I wanted the audience to appreciate his ideas. This act of mutual respect and willingness to improve is a key component of academic culture. "Writing Centers," Wingate states, "support the academic culture; at their best, they model elements of what academic culture could be" (8). I believe that both Erik and I share an interest in modeling the possibilities of peer academic discussion. By taking part in this discussion, we are reshaping, perhaps in a subtle, minute way, the overall Richmond academic culture. In the rush of day-to-day activities and pressures, rarely do students simply sit down to discuss the ideas they are writing about. I hope that the discussion we shared over this FYS essay was as exciting and beneficial for Erik as it was to me.