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2011
Liminal Practice in a Maturing Writing Department
Louise Wetherbee Phelps
Old Dominion University,
[email protected]
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Phelps, L. W. (2011). Liminal Practice in a Maturing Writing Department. Fulbright Project Report, Aug.
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[email protected].
Liminal Practice in a Maturing Writing Department
A Fulbright Project Report
prepared for
The Department of Rhetoric, Writing, and Communications
the University of Winnipeg
by
Louise
Wetherbee
Phelps
Emeritus
Professor
of
Writing
and
Rhetoric,
Syracuse
University
Adjunct
Professor
of
Rhetoric
and
Writing,
Old
Dominion
University
August,
2011
Introduction
In
Spring
2011
I
was
awarded
a
Fulbright
Specialist
Grant
to
“consult,
collaborate,
and
inform”
on
the
future
of
the
Department
of
Rhetoric,
Writing,
and
Communications
at
the
University
of
Winnipeg,
located
in
the
city
of
Winnipeg
in
Manitoba,
Canada.
The
Department
of
Rhetoric,
Writing,
and
Communications
department
(hereafter,
RWC)
was
a
pioneer
in
writing
instruction
in
Canada,
where
it
became
the
first
unit
to
establish
itself
independently
as
a
department
with
a
full-‐time
faculty
committed
to
both
teaching
and
scholarship
in
writing
and
rhetoric.
It
remains
a
rare
phenomenon
on
the
Canadian
higher
education
scene,
where
studies
and
programs
in
rhetoric
and
writing
have
developed
late
and
along
a
different
trajectory
from
the
discipline
in
the
United
States.
Because
of
its
unique
history,
the
faculty
is
positioned
to
make
significant
contributions
to
the
further
development
of
writing
instruction
and
scholarship
in
rhetoric
and
writing
in
Canada
and
beyond.
At
the
same
time,
the
close
fit
between
the
department’s
character
and
the
mission
of
the
institution
makes
it
a
strategic
asset
to
the
university.
This
report
presents
my
findings,
analyses,
and
recommendations
to
the
Department
and
the
Fulbright
Specialist
Program,
based
on
six
weeks
of
inquiry
and
conversations.
I
visited
the
University
of
Winnipeg
from
April
24
to
June
4,
2011.
From
undergraduate
students
to
central
administrators,
my
hosts
were
extremely
gracious
and
generous
with
their
time.
I
conducted
interviews
with
faculty
members
and
administrators
and
met
with
faculty
and
student
groups
for
a
total
of
over
70
hours.
I
collected
and
read
a
large
body
of
historical
and
current
materials
from
the
department
and
university
(curricular
materials,
syllabi,
faculty
publications,
university
reports
and
reviews,
policy
papers,
and
more).
Before
and
during
my
visit,
I
read
a
body
of
publications
and
reports
about
the
history
and
current
state
of
writing
instruction
in
Canada
as
well
as
examples
of
Canadian
scholarship
in
rhetoric
and
writing.
I
also
conducted
3
phone
interviews
with
Canadian
scholars
at
other
institutions,
as
well
as
talking
with
others
at
two
conferences
in
the
U.S.
prior
to
my
visit.
On
May
27,
2011
I
delivered
an
invited
lecture
in
the
university’s
Distinguished
Scholar
Lecture
Series.
Copies
of
this
speech,
which
was
videotaped,
will
be
made
available
to
the
department.
During
my
visit,
I
worked
closely
with
a
Steering
Committee,
which
included
Judith
Kearns,
department
chair,
and
faculty
members
Jennifer
Clary-‐Lemon,
Wade
Nelson,
Barry
Nolan,
Jaqueline
McLeod
Rogers,
and
Tracy
Whalen.
At
my
request,
this
group
met
weekly
to
engage
in
conversations
focused
on
the
writings
and
curricular
contributions
of
its
members.
Members
presented
a
sample
of
their
work
and
explained
how
it
represented
their
intellectual
interests
or
disciplinary
affiliations,
and
how
these
translated
into
the
curriculum.
I
also
asked
them
to
discuss
how
each
benefited
from
being
in
a
department
with
this
particular
focus
and
configuration,
as
signified
by
the
terms
“rhetoric,”
“writing,”
and
“communications.”
I
am
indebted
to
these
colleagues
for
the
insights
developed
in
these
conversations,
as
well
as
in
wide-‐ranging
interviews
with
them
and
other
faculty.
Judith
Kearns
was
an
invaluable
source
of
information,
materials,
and
wisdom
about
departmental
history,
structures,
and
processes.
Jennifer
Clary-‐Lemon,
who
developed
the
2
project
proposal,
was
the
primary
“go-‐to”
person
for
the
project,
both
intellectually
and
logistically.
Staff
members
Cathleen
Hjalmarson
and
Kevin
Doyle
were
unfailingly
courteous
and
helpful
in
making
it
easy
for
me
to
function
in
an
unfamiliar
environment
.
Finally,
Allison
Ferry,
undergraduate
major,
showed
impressive
initiative
in
developing
and
administering
a
quick
survey
of
majors
and
alumni
and
organizing
a
meeting
where
I
was
able
to
hear
from
a
remarkable
group
of
bright,
enthusiastic
young
Canadians.
All
made
this
project
truly
a
collaborative
effort.
The
theme
I
will
be
exploring
throughout
this
report
is
best
captured
by
Tracy
Whalen’s
term
“liminal
practice”—fittingly,
a
notion
she
applies
to
rhetoric.
In
her
terms,
the
department
is
at
a
liminal
moment—between
its
history
and
its
future;
and
much
of
its
research
and
teaching
involves
traversing
the
liminal
spaces
defined
by
the
relations
of
conceptual
pairs.
EXIGENCE
FOR
THE
FULBRIGHT
PROJECT:
RENEWAL,
TRANSITIONS,
AND
OPPORTUNITIES
A
number
of
considerations
make
this
a
propitious
time
for
assessing
current
programs
and
planning
future
directions
in
the
Department
of
Rhetoric,
Writing,
and
Communications.
The
project
comes
at
a
critical
moment
of
transition
for
the
department
and
university,
coinciding
with
the
emergence
of
new
formations
for
studying
and
teaching
writing,
rhetoric,
and
cognate
disciplines
in
Canada
and
internationally.
Program
renewal.
The
steering
committee,
in
setting
priorities
for
my
consultancy,
described
a
primary
goal
of
the
project
as
“program
architecture
renewal.”
Programs
need
regular
assessment
and
reinvention
in
order
to
keep
them
lively
and
responsive
to
changes
in
their
environment.
In
this
department,
the
first-‐year
program,
Academic
Writing,
is
now
16
years
old
and
overdue
for
such
review
and
an
investment
of
new
energy
and
ideas.
The
Tutorial
Centre
in
its
current
form
was
established
at
the
same
time
and
needs
to
be
examined
not
only
as
an
adjunct
for
Academic
Writing,
but
as
an
underdeveloped
asset
for
other
programs,
both
in
and
outside
the
department.
The
undergraduate
major
(and
the
associated
Joint
Communications
degree),
while
still
vigorous,
is
now
8
years
old
and
needs
critical
attention
to
ensure
its
continued
growth
and
success.
At
the
same
time,
the
department
is
developing
a
proposed
M.A
in
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life.
If
approved,
this
degree
will
open
new
paths
for
the
department
but
implies
many
adjustments.
I
once
heard
a
musician
explain
how
replacing
a
member
of
a
quartet
transformed
all
the
roles
and
relationships
in
the
group,
which
had
to
discover
through
trial
and
error
how
to
rebalance
and
reharmonize
their
sound.
Adding
graduate
studies
is
not
just
an
addition
to
the
department;
it
is
transformative
in
the
same
sense.
A
new
student
constituency
adds
its
voice
and
its
needs,
and
enters
into
relationships
with
faculty
and
with
current
students
in
the
curriculum
and
Tutorial
Centre.
New
faculty
roles
emerge,
with
new
responsibilities
and
expectations
from
the
administration
and
university
faculty.
Teaching
in
the
program
will
add
components
of
thesis
and
practicum
supervision
to
course
load.
Graduate
studies
also
require
a
strong
faculty
investment
in
relevant
scholarship
(research
and
publication,
applied
scholarship)
to
provide
an
intellectual
base
3
and
some
funding
for
the
program.
All
this
requires
rebalancing
resources
and
priorities,
while
potentially
enriching
existing
programs
by
integrating
three
levels
of
curriculum.
Transition
at
the
University.
While
the
University
is
not
changing
course
from
the
direction
set
by
President
Lloyd
Axworthy,
it
is
going
through
some
subtle
transitions
in
consolidating
and
implementing
these
policies,
which
are
directly
relevant
to
change
in
the
RWC
dept.
Several
key
administrators
are
relatively
new
and
putting
their
own
stamp
on
evolving
developments.
In
2009
President
Axworthy
published
a
policy
paper
articulating
an
“evolving
mission”
of
“community
learning”:
the
“active
integration
of
the
university
into
the
social,
cultural
and
educational
life
of
the
community.”1
His
vision
“demands
an
effort
to
explore
how
people,
especially
children,
learn,
and
how
new
practices
can
be
shared
with
the
community
to
improve
access
and
to
respond
to
a
range
of
cultural,
social
and
economic
diversities.”
He
specifies
community
learning
in
this
sense
in
four
dimensions,
which
involve
providing
learning
opportunities
for
underrepresented
populations,
committing
the
university
to
address
public
issues
in
partnership
with
community
groups,
using
university
resources
to
facilitate
sustainable
development
on
campus
and
in
the
community,
and
placing
these
initiatives
in
both
local
and
global
contexts.
His
paper
followed
closely
on
a
2009
update
of
the
Winnipeg
Academic
Plan,
which
emphasized
many
of
the
same
themes,
including
as
well
a
strong
commitment
to
“original
research
and
creative
activity
and
enhanced
research
capacity,
along
with
expanded
graduate
studies.”
In
May
2011
the
University
of
Winnipeg’s
Board
of
Regents
formally
approved
the
community
learning
policy.
These
documents
are
a
rich
lode
of
themes
that
help
give
the
university
its
character.
As
suggested
in
my
lecture,
the
university
explores
and
draws
energy
from
the
dynamic
tensions
inherent
in
this
vision:
between
access
and
excellence,
academy
and
community
(or
city),
local
and
global,
university
and
college,
research
and
teaching,
learning
in
and
out
of
the
classroom.
These
are
reinterpreted
in
various
ways
to
make
them
productive
(for
example,
as
crossing
borders
or
as
interdependent
and
reciprocal
influences).
These
themes
and
the
challenges
the
university
faces
offer
some
lenses
through
which
to
interpret
the
work
of
the
department
and
to
decide
which
directions
are
strategic
opportunities,
given
university
priorities
and
opportunities
for
partnerships
in
developing
initiatives.
Generational
change.
In
the
next
5-‐10
year
period
the
department
can
expect
to
deal
with
a
wave
of
retirements
among
the
founding
generation
of
the
department.
In
addition,
the
current
long-‐time
chair
will
complete
her
final
term
in
two
years.
The
department
must
therefore
plan
for
new
faculty
and
for
concurrent
leadership
changes.
1
“The
University
and
Community
Learning:
An
Evolving
Mission.”
Available
on
President
Axworthy’s
website,
http://www.uwinnipeg.ca/index/admin-‐president.
4
Disciplinary/interdisciplinary
developments.
Studies
and
teaching
of
writing,
rhetoric,
discourse,
and
communication
in
Canada
are
emerging
in
new
configurations
on
campuses
and
experimenting
with
new
definitions
as
an
interdisciplinary
field
networked
with
international
writing
studies
and
global
rhetorics.
As
the
RWC
faculty
and
its
programs
undergo
growth
and
renewal,
the
department
is
positioned
to
contribute
significantly
to
these
national
and
international
developments.
PRIORITIES
FOR
THE
FULBRIGHT
PROJECT
In
view
of
these
motives
and
conditions,
the
Steering
Committee
outlined
priorities
for
my
visit.
I
have
reorganized
and
interpreted
them
here
as
follows:
Context
and
history.
Characterize
the
identity
of
the
department
in
the
context
of
its
local
university/city
setting
and
its
distinctiveness
on
the
Canadian
scene,
by
examining
the
history
of
the
department
and
its
relationship
to
the
Canadian
instruction
and
scholarship
in
rhetoric,
writing,
and
communications,
past
and
present.
This
includes
consideration
of
the
faculty
research
strengths
and
the
department’s
current
and
potential
visibility
among
peers.
Curriculum.
(1)
Examine
the
curricular
design
and
implementation
of
each
of
the
RWC
programs,
both
current
and
proposed,
to
inform
future
curricular
decisions.
(This
includes
the
first-‐year
program
“Academic
Writing”;
the
undergraduate
major
in
Rhetoric
and
Communications;
the
Joint
B.A.
Program
in
Communications
with
Red
River
College,
building
on
its
degree
in
Creative
Communications;
the
Tutorial
Centre;
the
proposed
M.A
in
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life
and
the
possibility
of
situating
it
as
a
stream
within
an
M.A
in
Cultural
Studies;
and
participation
by
department
members
in
special
instructional
programs,
partnerships,
and
learning
initiatives.)
Where
relevant,
make
comparisons
with
U.S.
programs.
(2)
Consider
how
the
department
can
articulate
levels
of
the
curriculum
and
explore
relationships
among
the
intellectual
traditions
represented
by
the
three
terms
of
the
department’s
curricula,
rhetoric,
writing,
and
communications.
Process
and
collegiality.
Suggest
a
process
by
which
the
department
can
work
collegially
and
efficiently
on
program
renewal
and
curriculum
development.
CARRYING
OUT
THE
PROJECT
Although
six
weeks
seemed
like
a
long
time
before
I
came,
it
was
quickly
evident
that
the
original
proposal
and
agenda
covered
much
more
than
I
could
complete
in
that
time
frame.
Instead,
I
have
viewed
myself
as
laying
the
groundwork
that
would
enable
the
faculty
to
accomplish
its
priorities
by
continuing
the
processes
of
inquiry
and
conversation
that
I
began
with
them.
In
reporting
progress
toward
each
of
these
goals,
I
will
primarily
discuss
here
questions
of
curriculum
and
process.
I
decided
not
to
construct
a
formal
history
of
the
department,
since
5
its
history
is
well-‐documented
by
publications
and
internal
reports,
and
to
go
any
further
would
require
a
full
archival
research
project.
But
my
investigation
of
that
history
as
experienced
by
members
of
the
department
and
narrated
in
these
materials
deeply
informs
my
recommendations.
The
goal
of
contextualizing
the
department
and
its
work
in
a
variety
of
ways
is
addressed
but
not
exhausted
in
my
lecture
“Writing
Studies
at
the
University
of
Winnipeg:
A
Strategic
Opportunity
“
(Appendix
1).
Understanding
how
the
department
fits
into
the
institution
and
into
Canadian,
U.S.,
and
international
instruction
and
scholarship
in
written
communication
is
fundamental
to
decision-‐making
about
its
future,
and
the
work
I
did
on
these
questions
is
the
point
of
departure
for
the
analyses
and
recommendations
below,
as
well
as
for
collaborative
research
planned
with
Jennifer
Clary-‐Lemon.
6
Curricular
Articulation
and
Integration
In
approaching
the
curricular
tasks
of
this
project,
I
asked
myself
a
cluster
of
guiding
questions,
including
these
about
value:
What
is
the
value
of
each
level
and
component
of
the
curriculum
to
the
department’s
faculty
and
students?
to
other
Winnipeg
faculties,
students,
and
programs?
to
the
institution
at
large?
to
the
external
communities
it
serves?
What
of
value
has
been
lost
and
gained
in
the
evolution
of
the
department
from
its
pioneering
days
as
a
writing
program?
What
value
might
the
current
and
proposed
curricular
programs,
and
by
extension
the
intellectual
or
disciplinary
organization
of
the
department,
have
to
peers
in
Canada
or
elsewhere?
How
can
these
values
be
highlighted?
strengthened
through
hiring,
funding,
partnerships,
increased
visibility?
What
is
the
potential
to
capitalize
on
these
values
to
pursue
new
directions
strategically?
Another
sense
of
“value”
is
the
values
the
department
holds
dear
and
promotes
through
its
programs.
The
department
began
as
a
teaching
program
that
emphasized
a
social
mission
identified
with
broader
access
to
the
academy.
Subsequently,
it
developed
an
undergraduate
major
that
teaches
theory,
criticism,
history,
and
research
methods
as
well
as
writing
practices,
while
it
developed
its
scholarly
capacity
in
research
and
publication.
How
has
this
original
commitment
both
endured
and
evolved
with
the
addition
of
degree
programs
and
greater
opportunities
and
expectations
for
scholarship?
What
challenges
have
arisen
in
balancing
“access”
and
“excellence,”
and
how
are
these
values
associated
with
different
elements
in
the
curriculum?
The
department
was
constituted
by
virtue
of
a
common
teaching
enterprise,
enacted
through
conversations,
experimentation,
and
faculty
learning,
that
was
at
the
heart
of
the
department.
So
I
asked
these
questions:
To
what
degree
does
(or
should)
the
faculty
still
function
as
a
teaching
community,
though
with
the
teaching
enterprise
now
redefined?
To
what
extent
is
the
intellectual
work
of
the
faculty
(expressed
as
theory,
criticism,
reflective
thinking,
applied
scholarship,
and
formal
research,
embodied
in
scholarly
publication,
presentations,
teaching
genres,
or
public
writings)
informing
and
enriching
the
entire
curriculum?
How
might
the
department
take
greater
advantage
of
its
intellectual
resources
to
articulate
and
integrate
the
curricula?
I’m
going
to
begin
with
this
last
question,
targeting
the
goals
of
integration
and
articulation.
It’s
not
the
obvious
place
to
start:
it
seems
more
logical
to
start
with
the
parts
and
then
look
for
connections.
But
that
reproduces
the
way
the
levels
and
functions
of
the
curriculum
have
come
into
being;
they
were
not
designed
all
at
once
as
interconnected,
but
arose
at
different
times
in
response
to
rather
different
needs,
desires,
conditions,
and
opportunities.
As
a
result,
they
are
in
practice
relatively
discrete
and
disconnected,
and
it
is
hard
to
articulate
them
after
the
fact.
I’d
like
to
begin
with
the
assumption
that,
by
virtue
of
being
7
taught
by
a
single
faculty
to
overlapping
groups
of
students,
they
comprise
a
holistic
curriculum,
differentiated
by
levels
and
purposes.
Then
specific
analyses
and
proposals
for
each
part
of
the
curriculum
can
reflect
the
perception
of
cross-‐cutting
themes,
reciprocal
influence,
and
synergies
among
them.
“WRITING,”
“RHETORIC,”
AND
“COMMUNICATIONS”
The
disjunctures
and
disconnects
within
the
curriculum
have
shown
up
most
vividly
in
the
major,
where
the
Curriculum
Committee
has
been
trying
for
two
years
to
group
courses
in
order
to
structure
requirements.
The
obvious
choices
are
the
“naming”
terms
of
the
programs,
courses,
and
department—“rhetoric,”
“writing,”
and
“communications.”
Naming
is
a
way
of
staking
out
intellectual
and
curricular
territory.
Students
expect
these
terms
to
help
them
make
sense
of
the
intellectual
configuration
of
the
department,
and
to
match
up
to
faculty
identities,
disciplines,
graduate
programs,
and
career
paths.
But
both
students
and
faculty
have
struggled
with
the
recalcitrance
of
these
terms
when
applied
to
these
purposes.
In
order
to
get
past
this
impasse,
it’s
necessary
to
analyze
these
terms
to
see
why,
as
currently
(mis)understood,
they
do
not
work
well
for
structuring
curriculum
or
organizing
the
work
of
the
department,
but
remain
important
signifiers
for
its
activities.
Curricular
space,
as
designated
by
departmental
or
program
names,
is
implicitly
a
claim
to
disciplinary
status
as
a
faculty
by
virtue
of
belonging
and
contributing
to
a
scholarly
community
whose
“studies
of”
the
topic
ground
the
curriculum.
It’s
not
surprising,
therefore,
that
faculty
and
students
alike
(including
myself,
at
first
look)
have
identified
these
terms
with
disciplines,
and
seen
the
faculty
in
turn
as
representatives
of
those
disciplines.
Under
that
assumption,
the
department
title
seems
to
imply
a
tri-‐partite
disciplinary
structure
for
classifying
courses
and
faculty.
This
in
turn
raises
the
question
of
whether
each
has
equal
claims
to
curricular
space,
program
development,
and
faculty
resources
in
future
planning,
for
example
as
“streams”
in
the
undergraduate
major.
However,
the
reality
is
that
intellectual
space
is
not
carved
up
so
neatly
by
the
academy,
and
terms
like
these
are
context-‐variable
(in
part,
by
national
culture)
and
operate
rhetorically
rather
than
taxonomically.
(Modernism
persists
in
our
thinking,
despite
post-‐
modernism!)
To
be
useful,
naming
terms
depend
on
strategic
ambiguity,
but
they
are
therefore
vulnerable
to
reinterpretation
and
misunderstanding.
Even
if
we
could
align
these
terms
with
disciplines,
and
specify
them
for
Canada,
the
histories
and
scholarly
interests
of
the
RWC
faculty
would
make
their
work
quite
difficult
to
place
in
disciplinary
terms.
Most
are
quite
eclectic
in
the
intellectual
traditions,
sources,
and
methods
they
draw
on
in
publications
and
teaching.
As
Judith
Kearns
and
Brian
Turner
have
pointed
out
in
a
forthcoming
profile
of
the
department,
most
of
the
PhDs
in
the
department
“were
trained
in
text
analysis
of
some
kind
and
learned
to
teach
writing
largely
‘on
the
job.’”2
Half
the
eight
PhD
degrees
have
some
focus
on
“rhetoric,”
but
what
that
2
Judith
Kearns
and
Brian
Turner,
“Department
of
Rhetoric,
Writing,
and
Communications:
University
of
Winnipeg.
In
Writing
Programs
Worldwide:
Profiles
of
Academic
Writing
in
Many
Places,
Chris
Thaiss,
et
al.,
eds.,
forthcoming.
8
means
can
be
significantly
different,
depending
on
the
doctoral
program
and
whether
it
is
Canadian
or
American.
More
recently
minted
scholars
may
have
a
more
sharply
honed
sense
of
disciplinarity,
but
it
can’t
be
contained
or
explained
simply
by
referring
to
one
of
these
terms.
Typically,
faculty
in
fields
focused
on
writing
and
rhetoric
are
dynamically
interdisciplinary,
learning
new
methods
or
turning
to
sources
in
unfamiliar
fields
at
need,
to
work
with
new
partners,
pursue
particular
research
questions,
or
inform
teaching
projects.
If
that
is
the
case,
it’s
important
to
discover
how
these
terms
actually
function
in
the
discourse
of
the
department
(connotation
as
well
as
denotation)
and
how
these
meanings
correspond
to
uses
in
external
contexts,
both
academic
and
professional.
This
clarification
will
allow
RWC
to
use
these
terms
more
strategically
for
the
various
purposes
they
can
serve
by
their
useful
polysemy,
while
reducing
confusion
or
oversimplification.
In
addition,
it
will
provide
a
basis
for
answering
questions
that
were
raised
during
my
visit
about
the
future
role
of
“communications”
and
“communications
studies”
in
the
department.
Without
the
opportunity
to
do
a
full-‐scale
discourse
analysis,
I
nevertheless
formed
some
impression
of
the
way
these
terms
function
in
course
titles,
descriptions,
syllabi,
requirements
for
the
major,
and
even
the
language
of
students.
Setting
aside
my
original
observation
that
they
are
misperceived
as
labels
for
disciplines
and
faculty,
I’ll
focus
first
on
the
way
“rhetoric”
and
“writing”
enter
into
a
dichotomy
between
theory
and
practice.
It
appears
that
“writing”
is
over-‐identified
with
the
“practical,”
while
“rhetoric”
is
assigned
the
primary
role
of
providing
the
theories
and
critical
methods
for
producing
and
interpreting
practices.
Even
though
the
practical
is
valued
in
the
curriculum,
this
pairing
comes
at
the
cost
of
ignoring
the
vast
development
of
contemporary
studies
in
writing
that
reflect
intellectual
traditions
other
than
rhetoric.
At
the
same
time,
it
obscures
the
fact
that
rhetoric
itself,
in
the
classical
tradition,
was
a
practical
art.
This
dichotomy
of
practice
and
theory
is
mapped
onto
the
first-‐year
curriculum
(“writing”)
and
certain
“practical”
courses
(e.g.,
“Professional
Editing
and
Style”))
while
“rhetoric”
is
associated
with
academic
study
in
the
major.
Rhetoric
stands
in
for
a
claim
that
the
practices
taught
in
the
department
merit
serious
scholarship.
But
in
curricular
practice,
it
is
actually
a
handy
umbrella
term
for
teaching
the
arts
of
language
use,
providing
communicators
with
principles
of
production
and
a
critical
method
for
analyzing
situations,
texts,
images,
and
events.3
The
major
program
reflects
a
shared
vocabulary
of
concepts
and
values
rooted
in
classical
and
20th
century
rhetoric,
which
actually
informs
the
whole
curriculum:
explicitly
in
the
M.A
proposal
and
more
tacitly
as
a
basis
for
teaching
Academic
Writing.
Thus
Turner
and
Kearns
claim
in
their
profile
that
the
first-‐year
courses
have
the
broad
goal
of
“increasing
our
students’
rhetorical
awareness
of
academic
and/or
disciplinary
styles,
genres,
and
epistemic
criteria.”
More
generally,
they
say,
the
curriculum
aims
“to
develop
what
Quintilian
called
facilitas—the
ability
to
assess
any
rhetorical
situation
and
respond
appropriately.”
But,
even
in
the
major,
“rhetoric”
does
not
appear
to
be
highly
historicized
or
referenced
to
its
contemporary
development
by
scholarly
communities.
3
See,
for
example,
Objectives
and
Outcomes
for
the
Major,
available
on
the
RWC
website.
9
“Communications”
is
perhaps
the
most
confusing
term,
partly
because
of
the
apparent
disjuncture
between
the
broad
way
it
is
most
frequently
used
within
the
curriculum
and
the
external
uses
that
are
relevant
to
the
curriculum
(professional
careers
in
creative
communications,
for
some
students,
research
and
graduate
studies
for
others).
In
the
case
of
“communications,”
the
dichotomy
between
the
“academic”
and
the
“practical”
hides
within
the
term
itself,
which
has
three—arguably
four—uses
in
the
department.
The
first,
most
characteristic
of
the
department,
is
a
broad
reference
to
practices
of
communication:
oral,
written,
digital,
multimedia,
professional,
or
creative
communication(s).
These
are
differentiated
both
by
mode
or
medium
and
by
specialization.
Since
rhetoric
is
also
often
defined
as
“the
effective
practice
of
communication,”
there
is
large
overlap
in
what
the
two
terms
point
to;
the
differences
lie
in
the
way
they
have
developed
as
studies
and,
in
the
case
of
communications,
as
professions.
The
second
RWC
use,
then,
of
the
term
“communications”
is
to
name
professional
careers
in
the
media
industry—public
relations,
advertising,
journalism,
and
so
on.
The
corresponding
academic
study
of
that
industry
is
the
third
use
(referenced
particularly
to
the
distinctively
Canadian
development
of
that
discipline).
Finally,
although
this
is
not
well-‐articulated
in
the
department,
there
are
graduate
studies
that
represent
disciplinary
studies
of
other
specialized
forms
of
communication,
in
particular
professional
and/or
technical
communication,
which
is
a
rising
field
in
Canada
and
well-‐developed
in
the
U.S.
I
won’t
try
to
explain
here
the
complexity
of
how
these
terms
are
translated
into
programmatic
names
for
disciplinary
and
interdisciplinary
studies,
except
for
a
few
brief
remarks.
Programs
exist
in
both
Canada
and
the
U.S.
(though
in
very
different
forms
and
proportions)
that
represent
disciplinary
or
multidisciplinary
studies
of
any
and
all
of
the
practices,
professions,
and
specializations
mentioned
above.
But
programs
are
unpredictable
and
inconsistent
in
how
they
define
and
name
those
studies.
To
give
one
example,
in
the
U.S.,
in
just
one
state
several
programs
embody
three
entirely
different
understandings
of
“communication”:
•
an
undergraduate
concentration
in
“strategic
communication,”
described
as
a
“convergence
of
advertising,
public
relations
and
marketing
concepts”
using
an
“integrated
marketing
communication
process”
(U.
of
New
Mexico)
•
a
Ph.D
in
“rhetoric
and
professional
communication,”
combining
rhetoric,
composition,
professional
[i.e.,
workplace]
communication,
and
critical/cultural
studies
(New
Mexico
State)
•
a
B.S.
in
“technical
communication,”
which
“teaches
students
to
apply
principles
of
communication
and
problem
solving
in
order
to
transfer
information
effectively
between
scientists,
engineers,
managers,
technicians,
and
the
general
public”
(New
Mexico
Tech).
Not
surprisingly,
each
of
these
programs
is
located
in
a
differently
named
institutional
home,
housing
different
disciplines
or
interdisciplinary
mixes.
Contrary
to
my
first
impression,
there
is
similar
variation
in
Canadian
programs
even
though
the
dominant
model
is
to
study
the
communications
industry
academically
while
10
preparing
students
for
careers
in
it.
There
is
new
interest
in
professional
communication
degrees,
for
example,
while
in
some
cases
“communication(s)”
seems
to
be
a
term
of
convenience
for
eclectic
groupings
of
faculty.
Broadly,
Canadian
“writing
studies”
(more
often
represented
by
individual
scholars
than
programs)
can
mean
something
like
U.S.
rhetoric
and
composition
in
one
place,
genre
studies
of
workplace
communication
in
another,
and
linguistic
or
cognitive
studies
in
another.
These
are
all
being
influenced
by
U.S.
rhetoric
and
composition
on
the
one
hand
and
the
recent
development
of
international
writing
studies
(as
an
interdiscipline)
on
another.
Rhetoric
is
almost
impossible
to
stabilize
as
a
programmatic
or
disciplinary
term
because,
first,
it
is
effectively
an
interdiscipline
that
crosses
many
fields
and
appears
in
any
institutional
sites,
and,
second,
it
is
typically
found
in
integrated
studies
(rhetoric
and
composition,
rhetoric
and
professional
communication,
rhetorical
genre
studies,
and
so
on).
Given
this
chaos
of
terminology,
I
propose
that
the
RWC
treat
these
terms,
in
their
primary
local
sense,
as
designating
symbolic
practices—writing
practices,
rhetorical
practices,
and
communication
practices—that
have
a
large
overlap
in
their
reference
or
denotation,
but
represent
different
constructions
of
these
practices
as
objects
of
scholarship.
The
reality
is
that
faculty
in
the
department
bring
to
these
practices
not
a
single
“discipline”
each,
but
a
wide
range
of
intellectual
resources
and
traditions
for
construing
and
analyzing
them.
Historically,
the
faculty
and
its
programs
have
integrated
approaches,
primarily
from
rhetoric
and
writing
disciplinary
sources,
in
the
study
and
teaching
of
a
wide
range
of
practices,
including
the
professional
practices
of
communication(s).
Canadian
disciplinary
studies
of
the
communications
industry
play
a
role
in
the
major,
but
not
significantly
in
other
levels
of
the
curriculum.
If
this
is
established
as
the
dominant
understanding
of
these
three
terms
in
the
curriculum,
the
faculty
can
clarify
for
students
the
other
meanings
they
have
in
specific
courses,
in
scholarship,
in
graduate
programs
at
other
universities,
including
Canadian/U.S
differences,
while
explaining
the
uniqueness
and
value
of
the
department’s
own
integrative
approach.
It
is
this
relationship
between
the
generic
arts
and
the
specialized
studies
and
professions
that
gives
the
curricular
programs
their
value
and
the
department
its
distinctive
character.
The
department
offers
integrative
generalist
studies
in
writing
and
rhetoric
and
makes
these
relevant
to
careers
in
communications
industries
as
well
as
various
possible
paths
into
graduate
studies
and
academic
careers.
The
broad
preparation
it
offers
in
effective
communication
(oral,
written,
visual,
digital,
multimedia)
can
also
be
put
to
use
in
other
professions,
like
law
or
government.
What
are
the
implications
of
this
analysis
for
the
future
role
of
“communications”
in
the
department?
On
one
level
this
is
a
question
of
language.
The
use
of
the
terms
“writing,”
“rhetoric,”
and
“communications”
in
naming
(courses,
programs,
the
department)
should
be
based
on
understanding
the
variety
of
meanings
and
uses
they
have.
That
means
that
all
three
terms
should
be
retained,
though
not
necessarily
exactly
as
presently
deployed,
because
each
has
important
functions
in
the
curriculum
and
scholarship
of
the
department.
It
also
means
that
all
three
terms—not
just
“communications”—need
more
critical
examination
and
clarification,
as
I’ll
discuss
further
below.
11
The
more
substantive
question
is
how
curricular
resources
(and,
by
extension,
faculty
resources)
should
be
apportioned
in
the
department
in
some
kind
of
relationship
to
its
primary
naming
terms,
now
it
is
realized
that
these
terms
don’t
correspond
precisely
either
to
courses
or
to
faculty
identities
and
disciplines.
If
it
is
impossible
(as
the
Curriculum
Committee
found)
to
classify
courses
in
the
major
unambiguously
into
categories
of
“writing,”
“rhetoric,”
or
“communications,”
then
perhaps
that
is
not
the
best
way
to
go
about
organizing
and
prioritizing
the
curriculum.
A
more
useful
principle
might
be
a
distinction
that
crosses
these
categories,
for
instance
between
“practical
arts”
and
“academic
studies”
courses,
both
of
them
important
to
each
of
the
department’s
curricula.
“Practical
arts”
might
designate
courses
that
intend
to
teach
students
to
produce
and
perform
symbolic
practices—writing,
speech,
visual
rhetoric,
or
multimedia
communication,
including
specialized
genre
courses
(e.g.,
in
organizational
communication,
science
journalism,
or
advertising)
as
well
as
advanced
courses
focused
on
techniques
and
strategies.
Academic
courses
would
be
primarily
designed
as
“studies”:
of
history,
research
traditions,
theories,
rhetorics,
media,
sites
or
communities
of
practices,
and
special
topics
or
figures.
In
the
latter
courses,
student
practices
(of
writing,
research,
or
criticism)
serve
as
instruments
for
learning
about
these
subjects.
Experiential
learning
courses
(tutoring,
research
projects,
community
action
projects,
internships)
might
be
a
third
group,
or
could
be
construed
as
“practical.”
In
either
case,
if
concepts
of
“practical
arts,”
“academic
studies,”
or
“experiential
learning”
are
understood
as
emphases
rather
than
rigid
categories,
it
is
possible
to
imagine
courses
that
mix
them
in
different
ratios.
This
academic/practical
distinction
offers
one
of
many
possible
ways
to
“map”
curriculum
so
that
decisions
can
take
into
account
multiple
perspectives.
Just
as
individual
courses
don’t
necessarily
fit
neatly
into
categories
of
“writing,”
“rhetoric,”
and
“communications,”
there
is
no
identifiable
stream
of
courses
in
“rhetorical
studies”
or
“writing
studies”
that
could
be
identified
with
a
particular
discipline.
Rather,
the
curriculum
offers
courses
that
expose
students
to
broad
understandings
and
specific
topics
related
to,
and
often
blending,
rhetorical
perspectives
and
concepts,
writing
theories
and
practices,
communication
histories
and
theory,
and
various
interdisciplinary
theories
and
research
approaches
(for
example,
cultural
studies,
critical
discourse
analysis,
and
ethnography).
The
major
is
not
designed
to
study
disciplines
per
se
or
to
correlate
student
programs
directly
with
future
graduate
study.
Instead,
it
gives
them
a
background
that
is
appropriate
for
a
variety
of
academic
and
professional
paths.
(What
the
department
needs
to
do
is
explain
the
value
of
this
approach
better
to
students.)
This
niche
suits
a
department
of
small
size
and
high
diversity
of
scholarly
training
and
interests,
which
has
neither
the
reason
or
the
resources
to
build
streams
around
its
naming
terms.
In
this
model,
the
curriculum
shouldn’t
be
thought
as
requiring
equal
development
of
each
component,
since
they
play
different
roles
at
each
level.
So
an
introductory
course
in
communication
studies
as
a
field
is
warranted,
or
courses
that
contribute
broadly
to
studying
media,
for
example,
but
not
an
attempt
to
build
a
stream
or
program
along
disciplinary
lines.
If
anything,
there
should
be
a
more
careful
effort
to
make
sure
that
studies
in
writing
and
studies
in
rhetoric
are
amply
represented
and
well-‐balanced
in
the
curriculum’s
academic
courses,
not
in
a
discrete
“stream”
but
through
sufficient
exposure
12
to
courses
that
demonstrate
how
symbolic
practices
(including
speech
and
image)
are
studied
through
different
paradigms
of
research,
theory,
and
criticism.
This
goal
doesn’t
require
sorting
courses
into
three
categories;
instead,
one
can
map
courses
against
the
desired
learning
experiences,
recognizing
that
each
may
have
several
functions
or
meet
multiple
goals.
One
implication
of
an
integrative
model
is
that
particular
topics
and
concepts
don’t
belong
exclusively
to
a
discipline
or
school
of
thought
and
should,
where
possible,
be
taught
from
a
multidisciplinary,
contrastive
perspective.
In
this
way
the
department
and
students
can
take
advantage
of
the
diversity
and
eclecticism
of
its
faculty.
For
example,
the
concept
of
“mediation”
is
not
limited
to
Canadian
communications
studies
(the
Toronto
School),
where
it
is
traced
to
Marshall
McLuhan;
“mediation”
is
a
central
idea
in
activity
theory
(originating
with
Russian
psychologists
Vygotsky
and
Leontiev),
developed
and
applied
widely
by
international
scholars
in
interdisciplinary
research
areas
ranging
from
interaction
design
to
genre
studies.4
These
comments
on
the
curriculum
are
separate
from
the
question
of
how
disciplinary
or
interdisciplinary
background
should
enter
into
decisions
about
future
faculty
hiring.
I
will
return
to
this
question
in
considering
hiring
for
the
future,
below.
TAPPING
THE
DEPARTMENT’S
INTELLECTUAL
RESOURCES
TO
INNOVATE
AND
INTEGRATE
In
the
recent
history
of
the
department,
despite
important
accomplishments
like
designing
the
M.A
proposal,
too
much
of
the
available
energy
for
curricular
work
has
focused
on
the
three
terms
analyzed
in
the
previous
section,
filtering
all
problems
and
disagreements
through
this
lens.
During
my
visit,
the
most
overt
debate
over
these
terms
emerged
in
the
context
of
curricular
mapping
in
the
major,
but
they
also
tended
to
structure
differences
and
concerns
that
were
not
so
publicly
voiced.
In
my
view
this
focus
has
eroded
faculty
collegiality
by
over-‐identifying
faculty
scholarship
(and
its
disciplinary
sources)
with
the
supposed
recognition
of,
representation
of,
and
respect
for
these
identities
and
fields
in
the
courses,
groupings,
and
levels
of
the
curriculum.
The
confusion
around
these
terms
and
their
perception
as
competitive
priorities
have
blocked
the
path
to
fresh
curricular
thinking.
With
clarification
of
these
terms
and
a
better
understanding
of
how
they
can
function
more
productively
in
the
department’s
discourse,
it
becomes
possible
to
take
advantage
of
the
intellectual
resources
that
are
available
in
the
department
to
address
its
priorities
for
articulating
levels
of
the
curriculum
and
building
collegiality.
In
this
section
I
want
to
introduce
a
number
of
strategies
for
undertaking
fresh
thinking
about
curriculum:
the
first
set
working
with
significant
terms,
concepts,
and
themes;
the
second
set
working
with
exemplars
or
models.
Specifically,
I
advocate
critically
examining
terms
and
terminological
pairs
of
several
types;
identifying
from
local
sources
(institution
and
faculty)
generative
concepts
as
themes
that
can
cross
and
connect
different
levels
of
4
See,
for
example,
Victor
Kaptelinin
and
Bonnie
A.
Nardi,
Acting
with
Technology:
Activity
Theory
and
Interaction
Design
(Cambridge:
MIT
P,
2006);
and
David
Russell,
“Rethinking
Genre
in
School
and
Society:
An
Activity
Theory
Analysis,”
Written
Communication
14.4
(1997):
504-‐54.
13
curriculum
or
types
of
courses;
and
identifying
exemplars
or
models
in
courses
whose
ideas
or
approaches
are
portable
or
more
broadly
applicable.
In
identifying
examples
that
implement
these
strategies,
I
will
try
to
suggest
how
these
can
become
practical,
concrete
tools
for
accomplishing
curricular
thinking,
design,
and
change.
Concepts,
Terms,
and
Themes
1.
Institutional
themes
As
I
pointed
out
in
my
lecture,
there
are
clear
institutional
themes
that
manifest
themselves
in
the
courses,
curriculum,
and
overall
ethos
of
the
RWC
department.
It
is
useful
to
make
these
themes
the
object
of
critical
consciousness,
because
they
are
both
productive
and
also
subject
to
certain
dangers.
The
institutional
tension
between
access
and
excellence,
for
example,
is
susceptible
in
RWC
to
being
articulated
as
a
contrast
between
curricula
(first-‐
year
vs.
major
or
graduate
studies)
or
between
different
student
groups
and
educational
goals
within
each
of
the
programs.
Thus
“access”
may
be
interpreted
as
a
“service”
mission
in
the
Tutorial
Centre
or
certain
sections
and
functions
of
Academic
Writing,
while
“excellence”
is
attributed
to
the
ideals
for
scholarship
and
knowledge-‐making
embodied
in
the
major,
graduate
studies,
and
faculty
publication.
Or,
again,
this
tension
could
be
aligned
with
different
student
groups
within
Academic
Writing,
or
with
the
differences
between
students
preparing
for
careers
in
Creative
Communications
in
the
joint
major
and
those
preparing
for
graduate
school.
As
the
university
increases
attention
to
research,
the
same
pairing
could
be
simplistically
equated
with
teaching
and
research
as
competing
values.
The
antidote
to
these
kinds
of
reductions
and
equations
is
to
understand
that
any
particular
responsibility
taken
on
by
faculty,
and
any
instructional
site
in
the
department
can
embody
commitments
to
access
and
also
strive
for
excellence
in
teaching
and
student
learning.
Tutoring,
for
example,
and
other
writing
centre
functions
are
not
only
for
underprepared
students.
Further,
students
with
great
potential,
motive,
and
determination
appear
in
every
demographic
group,
and
high
faculty
expectations
can
nurture
them.
However,
it
is
important
to
acknowledge
honestly
that
sometimes
these
commitments
can
compete
with
one
another
and
greatly
complicate
particular
tasks
and
situations,
as,
for
example,
when
a
course
or
program
enrolls
students
who
differ
dramatically
in
their
preparation,
expectations,
and
divergent
goals.
The
department
needs
to
confront
directly
the
reality
that
these
different
responsibilities
can
compete
for
faculty
time
and
energy
in
particular
instances,
and
devise
ways
to
meet
the
challenges
presented
by
student
heterogeneity
at
each
of
its
program
levels.
Other
important
institutional
pairs
manifest
in
the
department’s
work
include
oppositions
and
relations
between
academy/institution
and
city
(or
communities)
and
local
and
global
contexts.
Each
of
these
is
highly
relevant
to
the
department’s
work
in
both
teaching
and
scholarship.
The
ways
that
these
pairs
engage
relationships
of
difference,
contrast,
alienation,
cooperation,
separation,
linkage,
complementarity,
synergy,
and
so
on
have
very
concrete
expressions
in
situations
like
these,
for
example:
•
A
teacher
offers
a
version
of
Academic
Writing
on-‐site
at
Urban
Circle
in
the
North
End
14
•
Students
undertake
an
assignment
to
“compose
our
Winnipeg”
•
Tutors
or
teachers
work
with
“new
Canadians”
or
aboriginal
students
who
have
never
used
a
computer
before,
alongside
international
students
or
immigrants
who
define
“post-‐national”
identities
through
digital,
cross-‐cultural
communication.5
There
are
other,
less
remarked
institutional
themes
whose
possibilities
and
connections
to
the
curriculum
might
be
explored
in
future
planning
by
the
department.
Among
those
I
noticed
in
the
Strategic
Plan
Update
are
an
ideal
of
sustainability
as
“the
paradigm
that
connects
learning
with
access,
economic
viability,
community
interaction,
and
social
commitment”
(echoed
thematically
in
U.S.
composition
studies)
and
the
related
concept
of
“a
traditional
way
of
going
forward”
as
a
strategy
for
responding
to
change.
Another
is
the
ancient
“tension
between
University
and
College”
(think
of
Oxford
and
Cambridge).
Winnipeg’s
evolving
approach
reminds
me
of
the
New
American
College/University
movement
in
the
U.S.,
which
attempts
to
combine
the
scope
and
variety
of
a
university
education
(offering
research
opportunities
and
career
preparation)
with
the
intimate
atmosphere
and
student
engagement
of
a
liberal
arts
college.6
In
reflecting
on
particular
curricular
choices
and
issues,
faculty
should
realize
that
these
are
embodying
in
concrete
terms
both
the
potential
and
the
tensions
created
by
these
commitments.
2.
“Foundational
terms
and
concepts”
in
the
RWC
curriculum
In
catalog
copy
about
the
Rhetoric
and
Communications
major,
I
encountered
the
claim
that
Academic
Writing
offers
students
the
“foundational
terms
and
concepts”
needed
for
upper
level
courses.
I
have
been
wondering
ever
since
to
what
degree
the
department
faculty
is
consciously
aware
of
having
a
common
vocabulary
of
“foundational
concepts,”
which
implies
a
sense
that
the
curriculum
is
held
together
in
part
by
such
concepts
and
envisions
some
kind
of
development
in
their
use
over
subsequent
levels.
I
think
this
would
be
a
provocative
and
useful
topic
for
inquiry,
both
to
discover
what
terms
appear
to
be
“foundational”
across
curricula
(for
example,
“audience”),
and
also
to
explore
their
meanings,
contexts
of
application,
variations,
sources,
and
histories
of
usage
in
the
program.
For
example,
how
widely
shared
are
particular
terms?
Which
are
more
rare
or
recently
introduced?
When
a
teacher
introduces
a
term
(e.g.,
Bakhinian’s
“chronotope”)
or
updates
a
canon
(e.g.,
memory
as
“public
memory”),
does
it
spread
to
other
courses?
How?
Can
this
work
backwards,
with
terms
introduced
in
advanced
courses
migrating
back
to
first-‐year
writing?
Do
terms
become
more
complex,
historicized,
or
theorized
in
later
courses?
Do
students
who
encounter
foundational
terms
in
earlier
courses
actually
retain
5
See
Iswari
Pandey,
“Researching
(with)
the
Postnational
‘Other’:
Ethics,
Methodologies,
and
Qualitative
Studies
of
Digital
Literacy.”
In
Digital
Writing
Research:
Technologies,
Methodologies,
and
Ethical
Issues,”
Heidi
McKee
and
Danielle
DeVoss.
eds.
(Cresskill,
NJ:
Hampton
P,
2007)
107-‐25.
6
See
the
New
American
Colleges
&
Universities
website,
http://www.anac.org/,
with
the
motto
“Integrating
Liberal
Arts,
Professional
Studies,
and
Civic
Responsibility.”
15
knowledge
and
use
of
these
concepts
or
strategies
in
subsequent
courses—in
RWC?
In
courses
in
other
disciplines?
Some
primary
source
materials
I
looked
at
with
this
question
in
mind
include
program
descriptions
and
materials
on
the
web
and
in
the
catalog,
especially
learning
objectives
and
outcomes;
teachers’
individual
course
descriptions;
and
syllabi
and
assignments.
These
provide
strong
evidence
for
what
I
have
said
about
the
dominant
role
of
rhetorical
perspectives
in
teaching
various
symbolic
practices,
centered
on
written
language
but
inclusive
also
of
speech
and
images
(especially
as
objects
of
critical
analysis)
and
conscious
of
the
role
of
technologies
in
mediating
communication.
It
would
be
an
interesting
experiment
to
solicit
from
students
in
their
3rd
or
4th
year
of
the
major
all
the
rhetorical
concepts
or
terms
that
they
can
think
of,
and
then
compare
lists
for
overlapping
(i.e.,
most
commonly
named)
terms.
I
have
tried
this
experiment
with
teachers
in
a
program,
starting
with
individual
lists;
moving
into
small
groups
to
determine
common
terms
and
outliers;
then
comparing
results
between
groups.
(I
didn’t
worry
about
whether
or
not
the
terms
were
really
“rhetorical”—it
was
sufficient
that
they
thought
so.)
My
point
was
to
demonstrate
that
teachers
had
acquired,
and
taught
largely
unconsciously,
a
broad
shared
“programmatic”
vocabulary
of
rhetorical
concepts
and
terms.
This
experiment
won’t
get
at
concepts
that
students
or
teachers
don’t
recognize
as
rhetorical,
but
such
a
list
would
provide
an
important
window
onto
actual
usage
and
learning
as
compared
to
the
aspirational
language
of
formal
curriculum
documents.
Many
deeply
foundational
terms
for
each
program
or
level
of
curriculum
are
used
uncritically
by
the
faculty
and,
therefore,
by
students,
precisely
because
they
are
so
indispensable
that
they
have
become
naturalized
as
“givens”
that
need
not
be
defined
or
defended.
Curricular
reviews
of
Academic
Writing
and
the
Rhetoric
and
Communications
major
present
an
opportunity
to
look
at
such
terms
with
the
assumption
that
their
meanings
are
actually
multiple,
ambiguous,
and
subject
to
disciplinary
and
public
controversy.
I
will
have
more
to
say
about
these
in
later
sections;
suffice
it
to
say
here
that
all
three
naming
terms
in
the
curriculum
merit
such
scrutiny,
in
such
contexts
as
“academic
writing,”
plural
“rhetorics,”
and
“creative
communications,”
as
does
the
concept
of
genre
deployed
in
Academic
Writing.
3.
Organizing
terms
in
RWC
programs
Here
I
want
to
emphasize
not
so
much
the
need
to
examine
these
individual
terms
critically
(although
that
is
necessary)
as
to
point
out
that
certain
concepts
are
constitutive
of
the
very
structure
of
these
programs.
They
therefore
offer
a
starting
point
for
analyzing
particular
problems
and
issues
as
practical
consequences
of
these
structures.
The
current
Academic
Writing
curriculum
(and,
by
extension,
the
Tutorial
Centre)
embodies
an
unacknowledged
and
underexplored
conflict
between
a
concept
of
“academic
writing”
as
a
teachable
body
of
general
knowledge
and
the
idea
that
writing
is
genre-‐
specific
and
best
learned
in
context.
The
undergraduate
major
in
Rhetoric
and
Communications
(including
students
pursuing
the
Joint
Communication
degree)
is
more
16
explicitly
structured
by
the
co-‐existence
and
tensions
between
the
academic
or
liberal
arts
orientation
of
the
primary
degree
and
the
practical
emphasis
and
career
goals
of
the
Creative
Communications
program
that
is
linked
to
the
RC
curriculum.
In
the
case
of
the
major,
these
tensions
are
played
out
on
the
bodies
of
students
enrolled
in
the
different
programs.
Both
oppositions
are
built
into
the
very
design
of
the
programs
and
won’t
go
away
absent
a
complete
redesign
or
abandonment
of
fundamental
premises.
While
the
M.A
degree
is
still
in
the
proposal
stage,
it
may
also
turn
out
to
be
structured
partly
by
versions
of
the
academy/community
or
academic/practical
binaries,
as
expressed
in
the
alternative
career
paths
it
will
accommodate.
4.
Generative
themes
in
faculty
work
Faculty
scholarship
and
curricular
materials
are
an
undervalued
source
of
ideas
for
energizing
and
integrating
the
curriculum
through
multiple
threads
(rather
than
forcing
a
single
vision
on
the
whole).
In
this
section
they
were
my
source
for
what
I’m
calling
“generative
themes.”
I
found
examples
through
my
readings
of
these
materials,
discussed
with
faculty
in
the
reading
group,
interviews,
and
other
meetings.
What
makes
them
potentially
“generative”
themes?
First,
though
these
concepts
may
derive
from
or
invite
application
to
one
curricular
level,
they
seem
generalizable
or
transportable
to
other
levels.
Sometimes
they
suggest
concrete
pedagogical
designs
or
experiments;
other
times
they
offer
topics,
problems,
questions,
or
perspectives
to
explore
in
various
settings.
Second,
they
enable
faculty
and
students
to
connect
their
work
with
disciplinary
scholarship
and
instruction
in
other
settings.
•
“Canadianizing”:
I
came
across
this
idea
(new
to
me)
in
the
context
of
a
textbook,
Across
the
Disciplines:
Academic
Writing
and
Reading,
written
by
Jaqueline
McLeod
Rogers
and
Catherine
Taylor,
which
substituted
Canadian
for
U.S.
authors
in
many
of
the
anthologized
articles.7
This
text
is
appropriate
for
a
first-‐year
class
like
Academic
Writing.
At
the
same
time,
I
noticed
that
most
students
in
my
meeting
with
majors
seemed
unaware
even
of
the
existence
of
Canadian
scholars
and
international
bodies
of
scholarship
in
writing
studies,
composition,
and
rhetoric.
My
suggestion
is
that
faculty
should
Canadianize
their
selections
of
readings
at
various
levels
of
curriculum,
but
especially
in
the
major,
with
the
specific
intention
of
acquainting
students
with
the
fact
that
writing
studies,
composition,
professional
communication,
genre
studies,
and
rhetoric,
as
well
as
media
studies
and
cultural
studies,
have
representation
in
Canadian
scholarship
and
graduate
programs.
•
“liminal
spaces”:
This
concept
was
suggested
by
Tracy
Whalen’s
article
“Rhetoric
as
Liminal
Practice,”
which
begins
with
this
statement:
“In
liminal
spaces
we
find
ourselves
on
a
threshold
(or
limen),
caught
between
practices,
cultures,
frames
for
knowing
the
world,
and
modes
of
communication—between,
for
instance,
the
divine
and
secular,
university
and
workplace,
private
and
public,
linguistic
and
non-‐linguistic.”8
Liminal
space/time
7
Jaqueline
McLeod
Rogers
and
Catherine
G.
Taylor,
Across
the
Disciplines:
Academic
Writing
and
Reading
(Toronto:
Pearson
Canada,
2011).
8
Rhetor
1
(2004)
<cssr-‐scer.ca/rhetor>
17
(especially
as
a
specifically
rhetorical
concept)
offers
one
interesting
interpretation
and
way
of
exploring
the
many
thematic
pairs
that
characterize
the
university,
the
department,
student
experience,
the
city,
perhaps
even
Canadian
character.
Living
in
and
near
numerous
new
buildings
on
the
edge
of
the
campus,
I
was
particularly
struck
by
the
physical
expression
of
liminal
spaces
between
university
and
city
that
have
been
so
transformed
by
recent
building
and
the
various
programs
through
which
the
city
and
university
interpenetrate
each
other
in
buildings
and
centres
where
different
cultures
meet.
Liminality
is
also
an
apt
description
of
a
moment
when
the
department
is
on
the
threshold
of
change
and
new
opportunities,
between
history
and
future.
It
suggests
to
me
the
importance
of
valorizing
innovation,
risk,
and
invention,
but
also
respecting
and
preserving
the
department’s
traditions
and
unique
history.
•
“critical”:
Across
the
Disciplines
begins
with
a
refreshing
attempt
to
define
“critical
thinking,”
the
buzz
word
of
so
many
curricula,
as
not
negative
thinking,
but
“reasoning
as
opposed
to
guessing
or
just
believing
what
you
are
told”(1-‐2).
It
goes
on
to
specify
critical
thinking
as
particular
disciplinary
ways
of
thinking
or
reasoning
well,
manifested
in
key
concepts,
questions,
and
methods.
I
was
reminded
of
James
Crosswhite’s
concept
of
“written
reasoning,”
in
his
brilliant
and
underappreciated
book
The
Rhetoric
of
Reason:
Writing
and
the
Attractions
of
Argument,
which
“reconstructs”
argumentation
in
analyses
of
claiming,
questioning,
and
conflict
(among
other
things).9
As
a
faculty
reading,
this
would
suggest
how
that
concept
could
be
elaborated
pedagogically
(beyond
first-‐year
writing).
Later,
the
textbook
introduces
a
contrasting
conception
of
“critical”
in
a
later
chapter
as
a
“parallel
method
of
critical
thinking”:
“This
method
is
‘critical’
in
the
sense
of
‘critical
social
theory’:
its
focus
is
primarily
on
power
rather
than
on
‘truth’.
.
.
.
Critical
literacy
involves
becoming
aware
of
the
‘box’
constructed
by
the
text
itself
(sometimes
called
‘reading
against
the
grain’
of
a
text)
by
exposing
the
text’s
politics
and
drawing
attention
to
its
oppressive
effects”
(104).
I
later
saw
this
second
concept
of
“critical”
articulated
pedagogically
in
Catherine
Taylor’s
course
“Critical
Studies
of
Discourse.”
The
notion
of
being
“critical”
is
crucial
to
many
contemporary
theories,
pedagogies,
and
research
methods,
as
illustrated
in
terms
and
concepts
like
critical
thinking,
critical
research,
critical
discourse
analysis,
critical
consciousness,
sometimes
aligned
with
and
sometimes
opposed
to
“rhetorical”
thinking,
research,
analysis,
consciousness.
It
also
enters
into
the
curriculum
in
another
pairing
that
deserves
thoughtful
attention—of
“critical”
versus
“productive”
orientations.
How
does
the
faculty
make
choices
in
balancing
between
teaching
writing,
rhetoric,
and
communications
as
critical
activities
and
analyses
(reading)
and
as
productive
activities
(writing,
creating
multimedia
products),
educating
students
to
be
both
“critics”
and
“crafters”
of
language
(and
image)?
For
example,
what
is
conveyed
by
introducing
rhetoric
to
majors
first
through
a
course
labeled
“rhetorical
criticism,”
given
that
rhetoric
developed
first
as
a
productive
art?
Does
the
curriculum
adequately
address
multimedia
production?
9
James
Crosswhite,
The
Rhetoric
of
Reason:
Writing
and
the
Attractions
of
Argument
(Madison,
WI:
U
of
Wisconsin
P,
1996).
18
•
“facilitas”:
This
classical
term
has
been
identified
in
curricular
materials
and
articles
by
Brian
Turner
and
Judith
Kearns
as
a
core
rhetorical
concept
in
the
curriculum.
It
is
an
interesting
choice
that
connects
into
a
broad
body
of
contemporary
work
that
deals
with
the
question
of
what
it
means
to
be
able
or
skilled
as
a
form
of
knowledge,
and
how
such
abilities
are
learned
so
that
they
can
be
applied
in
novel
situations.
This
work
is
found
in
studies
of
reflective
practice;10
adaptability,
flexibility,
and
judgment
as
“dispositions”;11
and
transfer.12
These
discussions
are
pertinent
to
the
question
of
whether
and
how
“academic
writing”
can
be
taught
in
a
general
manner
that
students
can
translate
into
writing
in
disciplinary
classes.
•
“place”
and
“identity”:
These
concepts
are
obviously
thematic
in
the
department’s
curricular
materials,
both
independently
and,
frequently,
together,
especially
in
reference
to
Canadian
identity.
The
faculty
can
usefully
situate
this
work
in
the
scholarly
literature
and
pedagogy
of
rhetoric,
composition,
writing
studies,
literacy,
and
so
on,
which
share
these
preoccupations.
Place
(and
space)
are
explored
in
areas
like
eco-‐composition,
global
and
international
vs.
local
perspectives,
and
environmental
writing.13
The
formation
of
identity
in
academic
writing
and
learning
is
widely
discussed
in
international
writing
studies
as
well
as
in
U.S.
composition
studies.14
•
“performance,”
“delivery”:
These
topics,
addressed
in
courses
and
publications
by
Tracy
Whalen,
attracted
my
attention
partly
because
they
relate
to
speech,
and
this
department
is
distinctive
among
writing
departments
in
its
attention
to
speech
and
orality.
These
themes,
like
place
and
identity,
are
significant
topics
in
contemporary
scholarship;
for
example,
on
the
intersection
of
rhetoric
and
performance15
and
on
recuperating
the
canon
of
delivery.16
Exemplars
10
Donald
A.
Schon,
Educating
the
Reflective
Practitioner
(San
Francisco:
Jossey-‐Boss,
1987).
11
David
Perkins,
Eileen
Jay,
and
Shari
Tishman,
“Beyond
Abilities:
A
Dispositional
Theory
of
Thinking,”
Merrill-‐Palmer
Quarterly
39
(1993):
1-‐21.
12
Doug
Brent,
“Transfer,
Transformation,
and
Rhetorical
Knowledge:
Insights
from
Transfer
Theory,”
forthcoming
in
the
Journal
of
Business
and
Technical
Writing,
Fall,
2011.
Available
on
the
web.
13
See
Peter
Simonson’s
recent
keynote
address
to
the
Rhetoric
Society
of
America’s
Summer
Conference,
“Our
Places
in
a
Rhetorical
Century,”
available
at
the
RSA
Blogora,
http://rsa.cwrl.utexas.edu/.
14
Recent
contributions
on
the
topic
include
Stanton
Wortham,
Learning
Identity:
The
Joint
Emergence
of
Social
Identification
and
Academic
Learning
(Cambridge:
Cambridge
UP,
2006);
and
Roz
Ivanic,
Writing
and
Identity:
The
Discoursal
Construction
of
Identity
in
Academic
Writing
(Amsterdam:
John
Benjamins,
1998).
15
For
example,
Stephen
Olbrys
Gencarella
and
Phaedra
C.
Pezzullo,
Readings
on
Rhetoric
and
Performance
(State
College,
PA:
Strata,
2010).
16
For
example,
Lindal
Buchanan,
Regendering
Delivery:
The
Fifth
Canon
and
Antebellum
Women
Rhetors.
Carbondale:
Southern
Illinois
P,
2005.
19
Here
the
strategy
is
to
look
at
courses
or
sections
that
introduce
key
concepts
or
practices
that
have
the
potential
to
spread
through
the
curriculum.
Often
they
will
be
foregrounded
only
for
a
period
of
time,
so
that
others
can
borrow,
test,
and
optionally
incorporate
good
ideas
into
their
own
teaching,
and
then
the
teaching
community
will
move
on
to
new
ones.
But
sometimes
they
can
merit
consideration
as
permanent,
signature
features
of
the
program.
Here
are
several
examples
I
noted.
Research
methods.
The
key
concept
of
inquiry,
if
it
goes
beyond
the
“research
paper,”
tends
to
be
specified
in
rhetoric
and
writing
curricula
today
as
“critical
thinking”
or
rhetorical
analysis
in
the
context
of
reading.
But
the
department’s
offerings
of
courses
that
incorporate
more
varied
research
methods,
like
ethnography,
oral
history,
discourse
analysis,
or
arts-‐based
methods,
along
with
the
new
research
methods
course
in
the
major
curriculum,
suggest
the
potential
for
original
undergraduate
research
to
become
a
signature
feature
of
the
curriculum
(including
first-‐year
writing).
There
are
conferences,
books,
and
local
and
national
journals
devoted
to
a
pedagogy
centered
on
undergraduate
research.17
Besides
courses,
faculty
might
consider
involving
interested
undergraduates
in
their
own
scholarly
research
or
offering
them
opportunities
to
pursue
such
research
independently.
An
emphasis
on
undergraduate
research
as
an
activity
fits
into
experiential
learning
approaches
as
well
as
the
university’s
enhanced
attention
to
research.
Experiential
learning.
The
Writing
Partnerships
Practicum
designed
by
Jennifer
Clary-‐
Lemon
could
be
a
model
or
inspiration
for
developing
a
significant
strand
of
experiential
learning
at
different
levels
of
intensity
within
the
entire
curriculum.
This
could
be
integrated
with
a
focus
on
undergraduate
research
in
diverse
ways,
since
the
practicum
calls
for
“writing
and
research
expertise.”
In
participating
in
the
university’s
emphasis
on
experiential
learning,
it’s
important
to
give
these
experiences
the
distinctive
stamp
of
this
department
through
inclusion
of
critical
readings
and
reflections
combined
with
practical
skills,
production,
and
action.
This
theme
articulates
all
levels
of
the
curriculum,
including
the
proposed
M.A.
Translating
academic
knowledge
or
expertise
for
various
publics.
Barry
Nolan
presented
to
the
reading
group
and
discussed
with
me
an
approach
to
teaching
linked
science
classes
that
has
broad
interest
and
application.18
He
asked
students
to
compare
articles
by
scientists
with
popular
articles
by
nonscientists
written
for
the
lay
public.
Some
of
the
issues
this
activity
raises
are
discussed
in
scholarly
terms
(with
respect
to
science)
by
Jeanne
Fahnestock,
as
a
question
about
the
“rhetorical
life
of
scientific
facts.”19
Her
article
addresses
in
part
the
question
of
“the
impact
of
science
reporting
on
public
deliberation.”
17
See,
for
example,
“Valuing
and
Supporting
Undergraduate
Research,”
a
special
issue
of
New
Directions
for
Teaching
and
Learning
93
(Spring,
2003);
and
Laurie
Grobman
and
Joyce
Kinkead,
Undergraduate
Research
in
English
Studies,
(Urbana:
NCTE,
2010),
in
which
Jaqueline
McLeod
Rogers
published
an
article.
18
Barry
Nolan,
Report
on
the
Academic
Writing
Link
with
Kinesiology.
University
of
Winnipeg,
May,
2011.
19
“Accommodating
Science:
The
Rhetorical
Life
of
Scientific
Facts.”
Written
Communication
15
(1998):
275-‐
96.
Other
scholars
might
call
this
practice
“re-‐mediation.”
20
This
pedagogical
strategy,
originating
in
Academic
Writing,
opens
up
up
a
set
of
significant
questions
for
the
whole
curriculum,
about
how
academic
knowledge
and
expertise
is
communicated
to
various
publics
more
or
less
successfully,
sometimes
by
experts
themselves
and
sometimes
by
translators.
Graduates
in
ordinary
life
and
as
citizens
have
to
know
how
to
interpret
and
evaluate
expert
knowledge
in
order
to
put
it
to
use
(for
example,
as
medical
patients)
or
to
make
choices
about
it
as
voters
or
decision
makers.
As
professionals
they
will
almost
certainly
have
to
communicate
expert
knowledge
to
others
who
are
not
experts
in
their
own
particular
area.
As
“creative
communicators”
some
may
specialize
in
translating
legal,
bureaucratic,
scientific,
medical,
and
other
knowledge
for
popular
reading
and
use.
These
tasks
present
important
compositional,
rhetorical,
and
ethical
issues
that
could
energize
particular
courses
and
become
topics
of
conversation
with
faculty
in
other
disciplines.
Losses
and
Gaps
At
any
point
in
a
department’s
life
there
are
losses
and
gaps:
losses
of
important
ideas
and
earlier
practices
that
have
been
forgotten
or
faded
away,
but
could
be
recuperated;
and
gaps,
where
current
topics
and
approaches,
while
sporadically
present,
are
not
being
robustly
pursued
and
supported
throughout
the
curriculum.
A
department
can
always
find
fresh
ideas
by
revisiting
its
curriculum
through
this
analytic
lens,
and
gaps,
in
particular,
may
also
suggest
possible
directions
for
future
hiring.
Here
are
a
few
that
I
noticed:
Losses.
1)
writing
across
the
curriculum/writing
in
the
disciplines—greatly
underdeveloped
compared
to
original
conceptions
2)
an
expansive
concept
of
the
Tutorial
Centre,
including
the
very
successful
apprenticeship
model
that
was
used
in
the
original
centre,
with
undergraduates
acting
as
teachers
of
tutors
in
the
context
of
community
learning
Gaps.
1)
histories
and
historical
perspective
2)
digital
writing,
new
media,
multimedia,
especially
courses
in
production
3)
collaborative
writing
4)
creative
nonfiction
and
its
relation
to
academic
writing
5)
professional
and
technical
communication.
One
message
of
this
section
on
themes
and
terms
is
that
the
RWC
faculty,
operating
as
a
teaching
community
and
a
kind
of
think
tank,
have
only
to
look
around
them
at
their
own
institution
and
their
own
scholarship
and
teaching
materials
to
discover
myriad
ideas
and
concepts
to
explore.
These
provide
ample,
rich
intellectual
resources
for
developing
the
constructively
critical
perspective
and
the
integrative
connections
they
are
seeking.
At
the
same
time,
they
will
learn
more
about
how
the
department’s
own
teaching
and
research
fits
into
broader
Canadian
and
international
trends,
movements,
scholarly
communities,
and
bodies
of
work.
By
making
these
external
connections,
faculty
can
draw
on
this
work
more
explicitly
and
comprehensively
and
make
their
own
contributions
more
visible.
21
Levels
of
the
Curriculum:
The
Major,
the
First-‐Year
Program,
and
the
M.A
Proposal
In
moving
to
practical
advice,
I’ll
begin
by
offering
some
general
principles
that
need
to
be
adapted
to
the
very
different
situations
and
“liminal
moments”
of
the
three
levels
of
the
curriculum.
These
differences
mean,
as
I’ll
suggest
in
discussing
processes
of
implementation,
that
each
level
requires
a
different
time
frame
for
assessing
and
undertaking
potential
revisions
in
its
curricular
design
and
implementation.
At
the
same
time,
this
work
offers
the
opportunity
to
strengthen
the
horizontal
(thematic)
and
vertical
(developmental)
articulations
of
the
whole
curriculum.
Here
are
some
principles
that
emerged
in
the
course
of
this
study:
1.
Take
a
bottom-‐up
approach.
Before
making
decisions,
conduct
research
to
find
out
what
is
going
on
in
the
curriculum
as
it
is
actually
practiced:
how
variable
its
content
and
pedagogical
strategies
are,
how
it
is
experienced
and
valued
by
students,
how
well
it
responds
to
needs
articulated
by
various
stakeholders,
how
it
compares
to
what
is
represented
in
syllabi
and
curriculum
descriptions,
how
well
placement
is
working,
etc.20
Develop
ways
to
gather
basic
data
that
is
not
easily
available
now
(e.g.,
how
many
students
take
Academic
Writing
later
than
required,
how
many
majors
there
are,
how
often
courses
are
offered,
alumni
placements,
etc.).
Document
the
extracurriculum—mentoring
and
advising,
tutoring,
internships,
student
organizations
related
to
the
curriculum,
etc.
Talk
to
students,
teachers,
and
a
broader
range
of
stakeholders
inside
and
outside
the
institution.
Investigate
thoroughly,
as
well,
institutional
facts
and
contextual
information
(e.g.,
about
funding,
administrative
priorities,
faculty
hiring
opportunities,
potential
partnerships)
that
are
relevant
to
your
decisions.
This
primary,
local
research
is
crucial,
but
for
some
parts
of
the
curriculum
faculty
will
also
beneft
from
comparative
research
and
readings
to
situate
its
own
programs
in
relation
to
other
programs
in
Canada
or
the
U.S.
Common
research
methods
include
surveys,
interviews,
focus
groups,
document
collection
and
analysis,
institutional
research,
conversations
with
various
stakeholders
and
among
teachers,
website
research,
and
faculty
discussion
groups
on
relevant
scholarship.
A
corollary
to
this
principle
is
20
I
am
thinking
here
of
the
concept
of
curriculum
developed
in
Research
as
a
Basis
for
Teaching:
Readings
from
the
Work
of
Lawrence
Stenhouse,
Jean
Ruddick
and
David
Hopkins
,
eds.
(London:
Heinemann,
1985):
“Curricula
are
hypothetical
procedures
testable
only
in
classrooms”
(68).
“The
curriculum
problem.
.
.
is
that
of
relating
ideas
to
realities,
the
curriculum
in
the
mind
or
on
paper
to
the
curriculum
in
the
classroom”
(62).
22
2.
Employ
“backwards
design.”
Develop
goals
based
on
this
research
and
work
backwards
to
design
or
redesign
courses,
curricula,
and
learning
environments
to
meet
them.
Learning
goals
for
students
are
primary,
but
they
are
not
the
only
ones;
and
curriculum
design
must
also
take
into
account
various
constraints.
Considerations
might
include,
for
example,
accommodating
faculty
interests
and
availability
for
teaching,
responding
to
funding
or
research
opportunities,
attracting
a
different
group
of
students
(e.g.,
dual
majors),
or
making
the
department
visible
on
the
Canadian
or
international
scene.
Be
prepared
to
modify
both
goals
and
curriculum
dynamically
as
the
programs
evolve
and
circumstances
change.
3.
Address
the
heterogeneity
of
student
populations.
This
involves
dual
goals:
to
meet
the
needs
of
students
with
varying
backgrounds
or
experience
and
to
help
teachers
deal
with
the
challenges
this
diversity
poses.
Doing
so
may
involve
various
strategies
from
placement
to
course
design
to
faculty
development
programs.
4.
Develop
and
highlight
signature
features
of
programs
and
of
the
curriculum
as
a
whole.
5.
Clarify
and
make
visible
the
terms,
concepts,
and
tensions
among
perspectives
that
structure
the
programs,
and
work
to
make
them
productive.
One
strategy
is
to
make
such
problems
into
a
topic
of
inquiry
for
both
students
and
teachers,
both
as
subject
matter
in
the
curriculum
and
as
a
basis
for
making
curricular
and
course
design
decisions.
Below,
these
are
specified
and
adapted
for
each
level
of
the
curriculum.
THE
UNDERGRADUATE
MAJOR
IN
RHETORIC
AND
COMMUNICATIONS
I
begin
with
the
major
for
several
reasons.
Relative
to
first-‐year
writing
and
to
an
M.A
that
is
still
in
the
proposal
stage,
it
is
both
young
and
thriving.
Because
of
the
department’s
emphasis
on
faculty
autonomy,
and
because
of
the
nature
of
a
major,
it
is
there
that
the
department’s
faculty
scholarship
and
teacher
inventiveness
are
most
fully
deployed,
visible,
and
diversified.
So
the
major
functions
as
the
laboratory
of
ideas
for
the
whole
curriculum.
Yet,
because
students
demand
that
a
major
“make
sense,”
the
faculty
must
give
it
coherence
in
the
way
they
describe
it,
map
it
with
requirements
or
sequences,
thematize
issues
and
problems,
and
implement
it
in
specific
courses.
Analysis
By
all
accounts
the
major
has
been
successful
and
popular.
Yet
both
teachers
and
students
voice
some
concerns
and,
more
important,
see
unexploited
possibilities
for
enrichment.
The
immediate
exigence
for
addressing
these
issues
during
my
visit
was
the
Curriculum
Committee’s
effort
to
determine
requirements
based
on
course
groupings,
which
bogged
down
in
the
terminological
confusions
of
rhetoric,
writing,
and
communications.
But
other
issues
and
needs,
as
well
as
exciting
possibilities,
emerged
in
my
meeting
with
majors.
That
is
also
where
it
became
clear
how
much
the
distinctive
integrative
design
of
the
program
needs
to
be
more
clearly
explained
and
consistently
implemented.
Finally,
it
was
evident
23
that
the
faculty
needs
to
think
more
explicitly
about
how
to
accommodate
and
deal
with
the
mixed
student
constituencies
created
by
the
Joint
degree
with
Creative
Communications.
In
addressing
all
of
these
matters,
I
suggest
that
the
faculty
adopt
(and
adapt
to
its
own
purposes)
the
concept
of
“backwards
design.”21
The
idea
is
to
work
backwards
from
the
goals
or
purposes
of
the
curriculum
to
the
means
for
learning,
whatever
they
might
be.
Instead
of
a
priori
categories,
decisions
about
requirements
and
courses
follow
from
decisions
about
goals.
Learning
goals
are
central,
but
they
are
not
necessarily
uniform
for
different
student
groups
in
the
program;
and
they
are
not
the
only
kind
of
goals
to
be
taken
into
account.
For
example,
the
faculty
should
be
asking
questions
like
this:
Do
we
want
to
expand
the
size
of
the
major?
This
might
imply
attracting
new
groups
of
students
and
responding
to
their
needs.
Are
we
interested
in
increasing
access
to
the
major
through
special
supports
for
particular
students?
Or
do
we
want
to
sustain
(or
even
cap)
the
major
at
a
certain
size
and
shift
the
balance
among
different
types
of
students?
What
balance
among
the
heterogeneous
groups
(academic,
Joint
Program,
and
others)
is
desirable?
Realistic?
The
department
does
have
a
set
of
learning
objectives
and
outcomes
posted
on
its
website.
However,
it
is
not
clear
what
role
they
have
played
in
the
ongoing
design
and
revision
of
the
major
curriculum,
or
whether
they
are
being
used
as
a
basis
for
measuring
its
success.
At
the
least,
they
didn’t
appear
to
be
part
of
the
conversation
that
was
guiding
decisions
about
regrouping
courses
for
requirement.
Nor
did
the
students
themselves
seem
to
use
these
as
reference
points
for
understanding
the
curriculum
and
evaluating
their
experiences.
Without
implying
any
negative
judgment
about
the
current
objectives
and
outcomes,
I
suggest
that
they
be
reviewed
for
possible
revision
and
additions
only
after
a
process
of
careful
research
to
find
out
more
about
the
needs
and
desires
of
students
and
graduates
of
the
major
themselves,
as
well
as
those
of
various
other
stakeholders;
their
perceptions
and
judgments
of
how
the
current
curriculum
and
pedagogical
approaches
meet
their
own
goals;
and
their
suggestions
for
improvement
or
change.
I
include
among
the
stakeholders
the
RWC
faculty
itself,
as
well
as
students
who
take
a
minor
or
certificate;
faculty
in
other
disciplines
who
might
take
an
interest
in
the
major
(see
below);
faculty
in
graduate
programs
that
alumni
have
attended
or
might
attend;
and
potential
employers.
In
addition,
research
should
include
comparisons
with
majors
elsewhere
and
investigation
of
trends
in
the
development
of
undergraduate
majors,
both
in
Canada
and
the
U.S.22
21
Grant
Wiggins
and
Jay
McTighe.
Understanding
by
Design,
2nd
ed.
(Alexandria,
VA:
Association
for
Supervision
and
Curriculum
Development,
2005).
22
See
Greg
A.
Giberson
and
Thomas
A.
Moriarty,
What
We
Are
Becoming:
Developments
in
Undergraduate
Writing
Majors
(Logan:
Utah
State
UP,
2010);
and
The
Writing
Major,
ed.
Heidi
Estrem,
et
al.,
a
special
issue
of
Composition
Studies
35.1
(2007).
A
committee
of
the
Conference
on
College
Composition
and
Communication
has
posted
a
list
of
program
titles
and
requirements
for
such
majors
at
http://www.ncte.org/cccc/committees/majorrhetcomp.
24
Students
were
eager
to
collaborate
in
the
kind
of
programmatic
research
I
am
recommending,
as
evidenced
by
the
participation
of
many
majors
and
some
alumni
in
the
survey
and
meeting
with
majors
organized
by
Allison
Ferry.
Many
programs
solicit
advice
from
undergraduate
majors
on
an
advisory
board
and
include
them
in
curricular
planning.
These
students
were
interested
in
various
means
of
working
together
and
with
the
department
as
a
cohort,
offering
ideas
ranging
from
a
colloquium
to
writing
support
groups.
The
department
should
welcome
their
participation,
provide
them
a
place
to
hang
out
together,
and
develop
different
channels
for
their
input
as
well
as
encouraging
them
in
developing
an
identity
as
a
cohort.
I
urge
the
Curriculum
Committee,
to
the
degree
possible,
to
extend
its
conversations
beyond
students
to
the
other
stakeholders
listed
here,
to
get
a
broader
sense
of
the
role
the
major
and
its
graduates
play
or
can
play
in
the
university,
the
community,
and
across
Canada.
I
would
specifically
single
out
faculty
on
campus
who
might
interact
with
the
major
or
its
students:
for
example,
those
whose
students
do
or
might
benefit
from
a
dual
major,
minor,
or
certificate;
those
who
could
provide
research
or
professional
internships
for
majors;
and
those
who
might
participate
in
a
Writing
Fellows
program
(see
below).
Once
these
contacts
are
established,
the
department
should
consider
various
possibilities
for
ongoing
relationships,
collaborative
and
advisory.
Such
efforts
may
synergize
with
(as
suggested
below)
reviving
efforts
to
work
with
other
faculty
on
writing
in
the
disciplines.
In
developing
this
information,
the
faculty
will
discover
it
wants
data
that
is
not
available,
largely
because
there
is
no
process,
commitment,
or
even
institutional
mechanism
for
collecting
it.
For
example,
I
was
told
it
is
impossible
to
know
exactly
how
many
majors
the
department
has,
and
no
one
seemed
to
be
tracking
how
many
majors
are
duals
and,
among
these,
which
major
was
primary.
I
suggest
that
one
consequence
of
this
research
should
be
to
try
to
establish
stable
mechanisms
for
gathering
and
archiving
data
for
purposes
of
planning
and
assessing
the
program
over
time.
While
in
the
end
the
department
should
continue
to
pursue
its
own
distinctive
vision
of
the
major,
it
should
do
so
after
a
clear-‐sighted
look
at
the
state
of
the
major,
as
illuminated
by
all
these
viewpoints
and
sources
of
information.
Most
of
this
information
was
not
available
when
the
major
was
first
designed
and
implemented,
and
the
faculty
has
new
members
unfamiliar
with
the
original
exigence
and
subsequent
evolution.
My
meeting,
along
with
the
survey
conducted
by
Allison
Ferry
(Appendix
2)
has
already
provided
some
remarkable
insights
into
the
major
from
the
perspective
of
students
and
graduates.
Among
the
most
obvious
is
a
strong
sense
that
the
major
as
experienced
is
structured
by
dramatic
differences
in
the
goals
of
its
constituents.
In
the
first
analysis,
this
structure
reflects
the
perceived
difference
in
learning
goals
and
career
paths
between
students
in
the
mainstream
major
versus
those
in
the
Joint
Communications
program.
At
the
moment,
this
difference
presents
itself
as
a
problem
of
incompatible
needs
and
conflicting
priorities,
but
it
need
not
be.
A
first
step
toward
making
it
productive
is
to
reinterpret
this
difference
as
neither
dichotomous
nor
inevitably
conflictual.
25
In
my
observations,
the
current
audience
for
this
major
is
more
subtly
differentiated
than
it
appears
to
be.
First,
these
two
groups
(single
degree
vs.
joint
degree)
are
not
so
sharply
distinguished
as
they
appear.
Some
students
seem
have
a
more
ambiguous
relationship
to
the
two
programs,
not
only
in
terms
of
whether
they
will
pursue
a
joint
degree,
but
also
in
the
career
paths
their
choices
imply.
Some
seem
to
want
flexibility
to
go
either
way
in
the
future.
Some
are
simply
unsure
what
they
want
to
do
or
be
and
are
exploring
the
possibilities.
One
implication
is
that
the
faculty
must
be
careful
not
to
assume
that
the
current
dual
structure
of
programs
(“practical”
vs.
“academic”)
translates
into
students
at
one
extreme
or
the
other.
Many
in
either
program
may
fall
in
the
middle,
or
want
to
combine
elements
of
each.
But
others
may
fit
neither
mold.
Second,
the
major
offers
the
option
of
a
3
or
4-‐year
degree,
which
differentiates
the
student
population
along
another
dimension.
The
significant
difference
this
implies
in
goals
and
in
what
the
extra
year
enables
(including
the
possibilities
for
combining
majors)
needs
to
be
taken
into
consideration
in
thinking
about
how
to
address
a
heterogeneous
student
population
in
the
major.
Third,
I
noticed
that
an
unusually
large
number
of
students
claimed
dual
majors
or
mixed
programs
of
some
kind
(enabled
in
part
by
the
large
number
of
electives
in
requirements
for
the
major).
In
some
cases,
R&C
students
were
pursuing
a
second,
complementary
major;
in
other
cases,
students
in
another
discipline
were
taking
R&C
as
a
second
major
that
would
enhance
their
degree
and
job
prospects.
If
we
add
to
this
the
possibility
of
R&C
minors
and
certificates,
this
group
presents
opportunities
for
growth
in
the
major.
In
the
research
phase
of
this
project,
I
suggest
careful
investigation
of
which
other
majors
are
attracting
students
to
take
courses,
certificates,
minors,
or
dual
majors
in
R&C
as
well
as
which
are
attracting
R&C
students
as
supplements
to
their
program.
These
fields
are
prime
candidates
for
developing
course
links,
a
Writing
Fellows
program,
WAC/WID
relationships,
partnerships
for
internships
and
other
joint
ventures,
as
well
as
for
recruiting
students
to
the
major
program.
These
existing
variations
and
departures
from
the
simple
opposition
of
“academic”
and
“practical”
majors
suggest
a
more
radical
move
to
escape
the
dichotomy
by
helping
students
to
reimagine
an
integrative,
generalist
major
as
affording
multiple
paths
through
it
and
into
a
range
of
careers.
Even
the
most
salient
alternatives
right
now—academic
careers
in
rhetoric,
writing,
and/or
communications
or
careers
as
communication
specialists
in
industry—are
much
more
diverse
than
students
realize.
But
besides
these
options,
the
major
already
has
(dual
major
or
minor)
students
from
other
fields
like
science
or
business
heading
toward
either
academic
or
professional
careers,
with
R&C
as
a
strong
complement
or
supplement
to
their
degrees.
Finally,
there
are
plenty
of
other
careers
for
which
a
degree
like
the
R&C
major
is
particularly
appropriate
undergraduate
preparation,
including
advocacy
roles
(a
good
fit
with
the
proposed
M.A
degree),
law,
government,
and
politics.
In
other
words,
the
major
is
already
heterogeneous
in
its
student
populations
and
paths
to
future
careers,
in
ways
the
faculty
could
both
elucidate
and
cater
to
by
targeting
different
features
and
options
to
the
curriculum
for
particular
student
goals
and
needs.
To
the
26
degree
that
research
demonstrates
genuinely
different
needs
among
groups,
which
may
not
be
met
by
current
curricular
structures,
I
recommend
that
the
faculty
address
these
needs
by
expanding
options
and
implementing
them
in
flexible
ways,
rather
than
setting
up
a
set
of
mini-‐curricula
that
separate
students
along
particular
lines
of
difference
and
then
lock
them
into
these
choices,
once
made.
Such
moves
(as
suggested
below)
would
strengthen
its
curriculum,
especially
alongside
efforts
to
both
clarify
and
analyze
its
terms
and
question
the
oppositions
they
enter
into,
starting
with
local
meanings.
For
example,
I
was
struck
by
the
fact
that
in
Communications
at
Red
River
College,
“practical”
is
actually
equated
with
“creative”
communication
in
mass
media
professions,
not
(for
example)
with
the
more
common
sense
of
transactional
discourse
like
business
communication.
I
wonder
if
common
ground
could
be
developed
through
such
means
as
adding
or
highlighting
coursework
or
topics
in
creative
nonfiction,
the
role
of
narrative
in
inquiry,
and
the
esthetic
as
a
component
of
many
rhetorics,
both
classical
and
postmodern.
On
the
academic
side
there
is
no
single
discipline
or
graduate
study
into
which
students
are
being
socialized,
so
that
mentorship
and
course
selections
for
this
group
must
accommodate
diverse
interests
and
possibilities.
Faculty
also
need
to
be
discussing
with
themselves
and
with
students,
in
different
forums
(not
only
courses),
the
central
terms
of
the
curriculum.
Besides
“practical”
and
“academic,”
and
the
issues
raised
earlier
about
the
department
terms
in
relationship
to
disciplines,
I
wonder
that
“rhetoric”
has
not
received
more
critical
examination
as
the
central
term
of
the
curriculum.
For
example,
are
students
systematically
learning
about
the
multiplicity
of
rhetorics?
Given
a
classical
framework,
is
the
core
rhetoric
Aristotelian,
Platonic,
Sophistic,
or
based
on
Cicero
and
Quintilian?
How
do
these
challenge
one
another,
especially
in
their
contemporary
expressions?
What
about
the
current
expansion
of
rhetorical
studies
to
international
or
global
or
intercultural
rhetorics?
What
does
it
mean
to
speak
of
“rhetorics
of”
identity,
disability,
social
movements,
and
so
on,
or
rhetorics
with
a
modifier
(feminist,
cultural,
networked.
.
.)?
These
questions
suggest
ways
to
connect
rhetoric
to
other
themes
and
priorities,
like
access
or
advocacy
for
social
justice:
for
example,
studying
aboriginal
cultural
rhetorics;
examining
how
identity
issues
intersect
with
academic
learning
for
particular
ethnic
and
social
groups;
studying
the
rhetoric
of
social
movements
in
relation
to
aboriginal,
urban,
immigrant,
and
other
social
groups
in
Canada.
A
Menu
of
Options
I’ll
end
this
section
with
some
specific
suggestions
and
recommendations
reflecting
the
general
strategies
suggested
above.
They
comprise
a
menu
of
options,
not
exhaustive,
some
of
them
drawn
from
proposals
made
by
students
and
faculty
in
meetings
during
my
visit.
1.
Incorporate
into
courses,
curricular
descriptions,
and
program
events
(conferences,
symposia,
speakers,
etc.)
discussions
of
the
integrative
nature
of
the
curriculum,
the
multiple
meanings
and
relationships
of
terms,
distinctive
features
of
the
curriculum
in
comparison
to
other
types
of
programs,
and
explanations
of
how
it
will
prepare
students
for
various
careers.
Design
courses
and
extracurricular
experiences
that
enable
the
department
and
students
to
explore
both
the
differences
and
potential
connections
27
between
“academic”
and
“practical”
or
“creative”
(communications)
perspectives
and
futures,
to
expand
conceptions
of
each,
and
to
point
to
the
role
of
rhetoric,
writing,
and
communication
practices
in
other
careers
like
law,
government,
business,
or
technology.
2.
In
place
of
defined
“streams,”
lay
out
and
make
available
on
the
web
a
number
of
exemplary
student
programs
that
demonstrate
different
“paths”
related
to
different
interests
and
goals.
Students
need
some
guidance,
not
dependent
on
occasional
conversations
with
advisors,
as
to
how
to
put
together
coherent
selections
and
routes
through
the
program.
3.
Develop
undergraduate
research
as,
potentially,
a
signature
feature
of
the
mainstream
program.
It
could
perhaps
begin
through
a
series
of
pilots
and
experiments,
and
then
spread
to
become
an
explicit
element
of
many
courses.
It
could
also
be
attached
to
specific
programmatic
options
like
a
4-‐year
program
or
a
possible
Honours
stream.
In
addition,
the
department
should
systematically
develop
the
potential
for
independent
research
projects
or
participation
in
faculty
projects.
Other
ways
to
develop
this
as
part
of
the
program
signature
are
to
catalog
research
methods
used
by
the
faculty
and
make
that
information
known
to
students,
perhaps
with
invitations
to
consider
collaborative
projects;
offer
a
research
methods
course
frequently;
and
bring
speakers
to
talk
about
research.
4.
Develop
a
robust
set
of
options
in
experiential
learning,
both
in
courses
and
in
internships
(favored
widely
by
students).
This
will
involve
the
department
in
working
with
partners
both
in
and
outside
the
academy,
and
could
lead
to
developing
an
external
board
for
the
whole
curriculum.
The
many
advantages
of
such
a
board
including
gaining
insight
into
the
current
thinking
of
employers
and
other
stakeholders,
providing
funding
opportunities,
gaining
boosters,
and
offering
internship
placements.
5.
Develop
multiple
opportunities
for
extracurricular
participation
of
the
undergraduate
major
cohort
in
activities
with
academic,
professional,
and
community-‐building
features.
Among
these,
a
number
can
tie
together
different
levels
of
the
curriculum
or
connect
with
other
parts
of
the
university
and
nonacademic
community:
for
example,
linking
students
in
the
undergraduate
major
with
the
M.A
program
and
the
first-‐year
program
through
joint
participation
in
the
Tutorial
Centre;
or
recruiting
R&C
majors
along
with
students
in
other
disciplines
together
into
a
Writing
Fellows
program
(see
discussion
below,
in
context
of
the
Tutorial
Centre).
6.
Consider
an
optional
,
team-‐taught
capstone
seminar,
which
might
include
“correlation
and
review”
conducted
largely
by
the
students
themselves,
with
faculty
facilitators,
and/or
a
capstone
portfolio
or
extended
writing
experience.
This
could
be
designed
specifically
for
4
year
BAs,
students
planning
an
academic
career,
and
perhaps
students
in
an
Honours
stream
(see
next
item),
but
with
the
idea
it
might
be
open
to
others
if
there
is
demand
for
it.
7.
Cautiously
consider
an
Honours
stream
(or,
depending
on
institutional
requirements,
a
more
informal
alternative,
perhaps
for
the
4-‐year
degree),
built
around
the
capstone
seminar
and
perhaps
an
identified
series
of
recommended
course
choices
plus
options
for
extracurricular
experiences,
like
undergraduate
research,
internships,
or
experiential
28
learning
projects.
Students
requested
an
Honours
section
of
Academic
Writing;
this
might
be
considered,
but
most
wouldn’t
know
they
wanted
it
until
too
late.
The
department
could
simply
identify
certain
Academic
Writing
sections
as
more
challenging
(e.g.,
a
more
elaborate
and
demanding
link,
a
service
learning
section,
a
student
research-‐oriented
section,
or
a
specific
set
of
readings
or
topics)
and
let
students
choose
from
them.
Flexibility
here
is
desirable,
but
may
depend
on
university
rules
about
what
“counts”
as
Honours.
29
THE
FIRST-‐YEAR
PROGRAM:
ACADEMIC
WRITING
AND
THE
TUTORIAL
CENTRE23
The
first-‐year
writing
program—“Academic
Writing”—needs
a
thorough
and
comprehensive
assessment,
as
anticipated
by
the
department’s
establishment
of
a
First-‐
Year
Committee
with
the
charge
to
examine
it
in
any
and
all
aspects
without
preconceptions.
It
is
a
kairotic
moment
for
revitalizing
a
program
that
has
been
running
on
auto-‐pilot
for
awhile.
The
program
is
more
than
due
for
a
fresh
look,
given
its
age—sixteen
years
since
its
inception—and
its
importance
in
the
first-‐year
experience
that
is
the
focus
of
university
concern
in
a
recent
task
group
report.24
In
addition
to
its
role
in
fulfilling
the
task
group’s
recommendation
for
the
first-‐year
curriculum
to
“be
a
strong
foundation
for
later
study,”
the
first-‐year
program
also
contributes,
through
the
Tutorial
Centre
and
some
of
its
specialized
sections,
to
ensuring
that
the
curriculum
“be
accompanied
by
readily
available
but
sustainable
supports
for
students
who
need
them.”
These
two
recommendations
are
a
reminder
of
the
potential
for
both
excellence
and
access
that
is
built
into
this
department’s
first-‐year
program
(unique
in
Canada),
which
received
so
much
public
attention
and
accolades
in
its
early
years.
The
faculty
needs
to
recapture
the
vitality
and
renew
the
legacy
of
these
beginnings.
It
is
tempting
to
see
the
major
and
proposed
master’s
program
as
somehow
more
intellectually
exciting
and
advanced.
But
the
first-‐year
program
is
the
core
of
the
department’s
scholarly
and
ethical
mission
and
is
not
merely
practical
nor
unconnected
to
its
theoretical
and
critical
work.
It
is
time
to
reinvest
intellectually
in
this
program,
in
the
access
mission
it
represents
as
well
as
the
capability
to
prepare
students
for
writing
development
in
college
and
beyond.
I
need
to
warn
at
the
outset
that
updating
this
program
will
take
a
lot
of
work.
But
if,
as
implied
by
the
Fulbright
project,
the
RWC
department
wants
to
reestablish
the
status
of
its
first-‐year
course
and
Tutorial
Centre
as
a
national
model
of
innovative
design,
it
must
tackle
two
tasks
as
prerequisites:
studying
the
course
as
currently
implemented,
as
a
response
to
the
distinctive
realities
and
writing
environments
of
the
University
of
Winnipeg;
and
reconnecting
the
program
to
current
scholarship
on
writing
instruction.
The
first-‐year
committee
needs
to
formulate
an
agenda
and
schedule
for
this
work
that
will
allow
the
department
to
make
and
implement
decisions
about
the
future
directions
of
this
course.
This
is
what
I
will
try
to
help
with.
I
will
share
some
general
observations
and
link
them
to
the
kinds
of
research,
discussions,
readings,
and
experiments
that
I
think
would
be
productive
for
the
first-‐year
committee
to
sponsor
and
undertake.
The
committee’s
plan
should
distribute
this
work
over
a
multi-‐year
time
frame
so
that
it
does
not
displace
other
priorities
of
the
department.
23
I
am
including
the
Tutorial
Centre
in
this
section
because
of
its
origin
and
most
common
use
at
present,
but,
as
I
will
discuss,
it
is
not
and
should
not
be
limited
to
support
of
Academic
Writing.
24
Final
Report
of
President’s
Task
Group
on
First-‐Year
Curriculum,
University
of
Winnipeg,
Feb.
2011.
30
As
a
program
ages
and
begins
to
take
for
granted
rather
than
to
argue
and
debate
its
major
premises,
it
becomes
increasingly
difficult
to
understand
how
these
are
operationalized
in
practice.
This
is
even
more
the
case
in
a
multi-‐section
program
taught
by
everyone
in
the
department.
Even
in
writing
programs
with
a
designated
administrator,
it
is
an
ongoing
challenge
to
document
the
variability
of
the
curriculum
in
practice
and
to
temper
it
(in
the
interests
of
consistency
and
coherence)
with
such
measures
as
class
observations,
syllabi
checks,
readings
of
student
work,
faculty
development
programs,
outcomes
measures,
and
so
on.
Without
such
oversight,
and
without
the
dialogue
and
collaborations
of
a
teaching
community,
there
is
nothing
working
either
to
sustain
a
particular
model
of
instruction
or
to
provide
for
its
criticism
and
evolution.
In
the
case
of
Academic
Writing,
there
was
no
way
for
me
to
discern
(and
I’m
not
sure
anyone
knows)
the
relationship
between
the
curriculum
on
paper
(which
is
rather
minimally
described
in
syllabi
and
other
places)
and
the
curriculum
in
practice.
Besides
the
natural
variations
in
philosophy
and
style
from
teacher
to
teacher,
it
is
hard
to
know
what
the
commonalities
and
principled
differences
are
among
the
design
variants
of
the
program:
by
major
fields
of
study
(humanities,
social
sciences,
business
and
administration)
or
multidisciplinary
sections;
linkages
to
other
disciplines;
online
delivery;
and
extended
versions
for
several
audiences.
So
the
first
order
of
business
for
the
First-‐Year
Committee
is
to
examine
each
of
these
curricula—the
curriculum
on
paper
and
the
curriculum
in
practice—both
separately
and
in
comparison.
Researching
the
Curriculum
on
Paper
and
the
Curriculum
in
Practice
The
curriculum
on
paper—you
might
say
the
curriculum
as
conceived
and
intended—is
more
easily
observed
than
the
curriculum
as
it
is
actually
practiced
across
multiple
classrooms
in
several
variants
by
many
instructors.
It
can
be
studied
through
curricular
materials—syllabi,
assignments,
departmental
descriptions
of
requirements,
and
so
on,
amplified
by
teachers’
own
explanations
of
these,
preferably
in
dialogue
with
one
another.
The
committee
needs
to
pay
special
attention
to
the
differences
these
materials
and
teachers
articulate
about
the
structural
variations
around
which
the
curriculum
is
organized.
My
own
look
at
the
curriculum
on
paper
was
necessarily
limited,
although
greatly
aided
by
conversations
with
instructors.
But
that
was
enough
to
see
that
the
structure
of
the
curriculum
conceals
an
unexamined
opposition
between
two
premises
about
writing
and
how
it
is
learned:
the
first,
a
generalist
notion
of
“academic
writing”
that
underlies
the
whole
course,
most
obviously
its
multidisciplinary
sections;
the
other,
a
genre-‐based
concept
suggested
by
the
primary
organization
of
the
course
around
major
fields
and
the
design
of
some
sections
as
“links”
to
particular
disciplines.
In
fact,
the
options
available
in
the
course
correspond
to
one
of
the
great
divisions
and
ongoing
controversies
in
writing
pedagogy:
the
idea
of
writing
as
a
broad
capability
that
can
be
taught
in
a
generic
writing
class
as
a
“foundation”
for
later
writing
and
learning
versus
the
concept
of
writing
as
deeply
embedded
in
social
life,
taking
the
form
of
specific
genres
that
can
only
be
learned
through
immersion
and
practice
in
the
situations
and
contexts
where
they
are
tied
to
activities,
social
roles,
knowledge
content,
technologies,
and
so
on.
The
concept
of
“academic
writing”
is
a
variant
of
the
first
position
that
assumes
there
is
a
generic
discourse—ways
of
thinking
and
writing—common
to
academic
disciplines,
which
can
be
31
learned
in
a
composition
course
and
will
then
“transfer”
to
the
writing
that
students
must
learn
and
produce
in
disciplinary
courses
throughout
college.
The
multidisciplinary
sections
of
Academic
Writing
represent
the
typical
environment
for
teaching
writing
as
a
“global
or
universal
ability,”
in
the
words
of
David
Smit
(a
strong
critic
of
this
position),25
while
the
linked
courses
(nominally,
at
least)
push
the
curriculum
in
the
opposite
direction
toward
genre-‐specific
learning.
The
organization
of
the
first-‐year
curriculum
primarily
around
broad
super-‐genres
(the
humanities,
business,
the
sciences,
the
social
sciences)
seems
to
mediate
these
two
apparently
incompatible
positions,
but
whether
it
does
so
in
practice
depends
on
what
actually
goes
on
in
these
sections,
including,
for
example,
whether
the
three
options
(multidisciplinary,
linked,
and
major-‐
field)
are
distinctly
different
in
the
curriculum
as
practiced
and—especially—whether
such
a
mediating
stance
is
deliberate
and
explicitly
taught.
In
practice,
I
didn’t
see
much
evidence
that
a
rich
genre
model
is
taught
either
conceptually
or
practically,
even
in
the
link
courses.
My
suspicion
is
that,
as
suggested
by
the
rhetoric
of
descriptive
materials,
most
sections
in
all
three
models
of
“Academic
Writing”
are
teaching
versions
of
the
same
generalist,
foundationalist
position,
with
the
major-‐field
and
even
linked
courses
using
disciplines
primarily
as
the
source
of
topics
rather
than
teaching
the
concept
or
practice
of
field-‐specific
genres.
The
only
example
I
was
able
to
examine
up
close
was
Barry
Nolan’s
kinesiology
link,
which,
while
it
is
organized
topically,
also
highlights
comparisons
between
expert
disciplinary
discourse
and
popularizations
(singled
out
earlier
as
a
promising
theme
for
the
whole
curriculum).
Conversely,
though,
it
is
hard
to
see
exactly
what
principles
of
writing,
rhetoric,
or
communication
animate
a
generalist
approach
and
provide
common
ground
across
sections.
One
candidate
might
be
the
notion
that
academic
writing
is
“critical”
(see
earlier
discussion).
Another
might
be
the
concept
of
“facilitas,”
and,
more
generally,
the
notion
of
rhetoric
as
an
art
adaptable
to
any
context.
A
generalist
notion
of
first-‐year
writing
meshes
well
with
the
undergraduate
major,
which
emphasizes
the
portability
of
rhetorical
strategies
that
can
be
applied
and
revised
for
different
purposes,
audiences,
and
settings.
In
fact,
the
major
holds
promise
of
providing
defensible
principles
for
this
position
and
even
articulating
and
reconciling
it
with
a
genre
approach.
But
it
is
unclear
how
widely
“rhetorical
consciousness”
is
cultivated
in
Academic
Writing,
or
how
comprehensively
a
pedagogical
rhetoric
is
implemented
in
the
curriculum-‐
in-‐practice.
Many
of
the
assumptions
underlying
the
foundationalist
model
of
first-‐year
writing
have
come
strongly
into
question,
in
scholarship
on
“transfer”
as
well
as
in
genre
studies
According
to
Canadian
scholar
Doug
Brent,
cited
earlier,
“We
now
generally
accept
that
there
is
no
universal
educated
discourse
that
students
can
learn
in
a
writing
course
and
easily
apply
to
courses
in
history
or
astronomy.”
Nonetheless,
the
notion
persists
amongst
teachers
of
the
course
and
stakeholders
in
the
first-‐year
requirement
alike
that
it
can
provide
foundations,
not
simply
for
college
writing
in
various
disciplines,
but
for
an
25
David
Smit,
The
End
of
Composition
Studies
(Carbondale:
Southern
Illinois
UP,
2004)
10.
For
a
critical
review
of
his
extreme
position,
see
Louise
Wetherbee
Phelps,
Rhetoric
Review
25.2
(2006):
211-‐33.
32
indefinite
future
of
writing
tasks,
functions,
and
contexts,
ranging
from
courses
in
a
student’s
major
to
writing
in
the
professions
or
for
civic
advocacy.
Any
particular
writing
curriculum
emphasizes
one
or
more
of
these
future
contexts
over
others,
but
in
all
cases
they
imply
a
responsibility
that
extends
far
beyond
the
learning
goals
internal
to
the
course
and
its
semester
time
frame.
These
expectations
constitute
a
uniquely
heavy
burden
for
first-‐year
writing
curriculum
planners.
Practically
speaking,
it
means
that
backwards
design
is
extremely
difficult,
because
the
end
point
is
so
unclear,
subject
to
the
pressures
of
multiple
constituencies,
and,
often,
remote
in
time.
As
a
result,
the
course
tends
to
run
on
a
tacit
assumption
that
whatever
is
being
taught—the
“outcomes”
to
be
reached
at
the
end
of
the
course—will
magically
serve
as
a
foundation
for
any
and
all
of
these
future
writing
contexts,
without
knowing
very
much
about
what
they
will
be,
how
they
differ,
and
by
what
means
these
foundational
skills
will
carry
forward
from
one
to
the
next.
(It
doesn’t
help,
of
course,
that
some
students
may
not
actually
take
the
course
before
completing
42
credit
hours,
as
assumed
in
its
foundational
mandate.)
One
conclusion
that
follows
from
this
analysis
is
that,
while
research
on
the
curriculum
on
paper
and
in
practice
needs
to
begin
with
an
internal
examination
of
the
course,
that
is
insufficient
either
to
understand
it
or
to
gauge
its
effectiveness.
The
natural
starting
point
for
the
First-‐Year
Committee’s
work
is
to
study
the
content,
pedagogical
strategies,
and
perceived
effectiveness
of
the
course
as
it
is
designed
and
experienced
by
the
faculty
who
teach
it
and
as
it
is
experienced
and
assessed
by
students
during
and
immediately
after
the
course.
Methods
like
surveys,
focus
groups,
interviews,
and
faculty
conversations
will
provide
insight
into
the
relationships
between
the
curriculum
in
practice
and
the
curriculum
on
paper.
Both
students
and
teachers
will
be
able
to
express
satisfactions,
dissatisfactions,
and
suggestions
for
change.
In
addition,
institutional
research
can
provide
basic
data
about
issues
like
placement
and
timing
of
student
enrollment
in
the
course.
But
the
foundationalist
claims
and
expectations
of
the
course
mean
that
it
is
necessary
to
go
beyond
internal
discussions
and
assumptions
based
on
conventional
wisdom
about
university
writing
(about
the
research
paper,
for
example).
The
committee
needs
to
develop
empirical,
local
knowledge
about
what
the
course
is
actually
preparing
students
for
and,
from
the
perspective
of
both
advanced
students
and
faculty
in
the
disciplines,
how
effective
it
is.
Research
of
this
type
encompasses
such
questions
as
the
range
of
writing
tasks
and
genres
students
encounter
in
their
courses;
faculty
attitudes,
concepts
of
writing,
and
pedagogical
practices
like
assignments
and
responses
to
student
writing;
and
advanced
students’
experiences
and
reflections
as
writers
and
learners
in
these
contexts,
including
their
assessment
of
how
first-‐year
writing
did
or
didn’t
prepare
them
for
these
challenges.26
Despite
the
focus
on
academic
writing,
faculty
must
also
consider
the
role
of
nonacademic
writing,
since
it
is
practiced
by
university
students
for
internships,
community
projects,
contexts
of
experiential
learning,
or
professional
courses
like
business,
even
sometimes
in
first-‐year
writing
assignments.
Since
ultimately,
both
students
26
For
a
start
on
this
kind
of
research,
see
the
brief
survey
of
faculty
in
the
disciplines,
conducted
by
Judith
Kearns
and
Brian
Turner
in
Fall,
2009.
33
and
publics
expect
that
college
writing
instruction
will
produce
graduates
who
can
write
for
nonacademic
contexts,
ideally
planners
would
gather
information
about
the
views
of
alumni
and
employers
(some
of
it
available
from
outside
sources).
This
is
the
kind
of
information
base
necessary
for
backwards
design
of
Academic
Writing.
But
it
is
only
the
first
step
in
a
complex
process
of
deciding
not
only
what
relationship
the
first-‐year
course
has
now
to
students’
learning
and
writing
in
contexts
beyond
the
course,
but
what
relationship
it
can
possibly
have,
based
on
an
informed
understanding
of
scholarly
discoveries
and
debates
about
writing
in
the
disciplines,
genres,
transfer,
and
related
matters—issues
and
questions
raised
by
the
organization
of
the
course.
These
observations
suggest
that
the
First-‐Year
Committee
pursue
its
inquiry
on
dual
tracks.
One
would
focus
on
local
research
into
the
curriculum
as
it
is
actually
practiced,
experienced
by
students,
and
viewed
by
a
widening
circle
of
stakeholders
(academic
and
nonacademic),
beginning
with
an
internal
inquiry
and
moving
out
into
the
university
to
gather
information
and
conduct
conversations
with
teachers
and
students
about
concepts,
practices,
and
attitudes
toward
writing
in
the
disciplines
in
relation
to
the
role
of
first-‐year
writing.
The
second
would
analyze
critically
the
intellectual
premises,
contradictions,
and
potential
of
the
curriculum,
drawing
on
scholarly
perspectives
as
well
as
conversations
with
faculty
in
other
fields.
These
would
begin
as
separate
projects,
in
different
time
frames
and
at
different
paces,
but
would
converge
and
inform
each
other
as
the
committee
brings
together
the
critical
perspectives,
insights,
and
alternatives
from
its
readings
and
conversations
with
the
process
and
findings
of
its
research.
Some
suggestions
for
reading
may
clarify
how
this
convergence
might
happen.
I
recommend
two
books
that
explore
the
issues
I
have
identified
here
in
a
practical
way,
by
engaging
in
conversations
with
faculty
in
the
disciplines.
Because
one,
Engaged
Writers
and
Dynamic
Disciplines,
locates
itself
in
writing
studies
and
the
other,
In
Search
of
Eloquence,
in
rhetoric,
they
provide
two
intellectual
perspectives
on
these
topics
(for
example,
whether
there
is
any
common
concept
of
academic
writing
among
disciplinary
faculty,
how
a
general
art
of
rhetoric
can
inform
understanding
of
writing
in
the
disciplines)
and
two
models
for
investigating
them
through
faculty
discussions.27
Doug
Brent’s
article,
previously
cited,
offers
a
thorough
and
balanced
introduction
to
the
literature
on
transfer
(accessible
enough
to
share
and
discuss
with
faculty
in
other
fields).
For
the
First-‐Year
Committee
or
a
reading
group
set
up
for
the
purpose,
these
readings
might
be
coupled
with
discussions
of
two
statements
on
appropriate
outcomes
for
writing
instruction:
the
WPA
Outcomes
Statement
for
First-‐Year
Composition
and
the
NCTE
Framework
for
Success
in
Postsecondary
Writing,
both
of
which
adopt
a
generalist
position.28
For
the
other
side
of
27
Chris
Thaiss
and
Terry
Myers
Zawacki,
Engaged
Writers
and
Dynamic
Disciplines:
Research
on
the
Academic
Writing
Life
(Portsmouth:
Boynton/Cook
Heinemann,
2006);
Cornelius
Cosgrove
and
Nancy
Barta-‐Smith,
In
Search
of
Eloquence:
Cross-‐Disciplinary
Conversations
on
the
Role
of
Writing
in
Undergraduate
Education
(Cresskill,
NJ:
Hampton
P,
2004).
28
The
two
statements
are
available
on
the
web
at
the
WPA
and
NCTE
websites,
respectively.
34
the
picture,
Bawarshi
and
Reiff
offer
a
comprehensive
guide
to
a
large
and
complex
literature
on
genre,
including
a
good
deal
of
Canadian
scholarship.29
One
problem
that
will
emerge
in
studying
the
curriculum
in
practice,
but
needs
separate
attention,
is
heterogeneity
in
the
student
populations
taught
in
Academic
Writing,
which
manifests
itself
both
in
special
sections
(various
versions
of
an
extended
option,
as
well
as
an
online
version)
and
within
sections
across
the
different
options.
Placement
is
by
student
choice,
for
the
most
part.
The
university’s
access
policy
coupled
with
a
universal
requirement
means
that,
with
self-‐placement,
the
range
of
student
preparation,
knowledge,
and
interest
in
writing
might
be
extreme
in
a
given
class.
There
may
also
be
a
significant
difference
between
students
taking
the
course
in
their
first
year
and
students
who
delay
it
until
late
in
their
programs.
All
these
issues
around
the
diversity
of
students
in
a
universal
course
were
well-‐recognized
in
the
early
years
of
the
program,
and
the
present
structures
of
special
sections,
placements,
and
tutorial
support
were
designed
in
response.
I
suspect
this
problem
has
faded
into
the
background
over
the
years,
and
the
department
assumes
it
is
handled
by
placement
and
through
the
Tutorial
Centre.
But
it
can’t
take
that
for
granted.
The
faculty
needs
to
assess
how
these
arrangements
are
working
now
in
practice
and
how
they
might
be
enriched,
improved,
or
modified.
What
are
the
consequences,
good
and
bad,
of
self-‐
placement?
What
is
the
range
of
differences
among
students
in
regular
sections
of
the
course,
and
what
kinds
of
challenges
do
these
present
to
teachers
and
students?
I
heard
comments
from
majors
who
wanted
a
more
rigorous
first-‐year
writing
experience
and
from
teachers
who
had
some
classes
with
a
range
of
diversity
that
was
pedagogically
difficult
to
manage.
What
role
is
the
Tutorial
Centre
playing
in
supporting
this
range
of
students?
How
effective
is
the
extended
version
of
the
course,
and
are
the
right
students
taking
it?
What
reasons
do
students
have
for
choosing
a
major
field,
link,
or
multidisciplinary
section,
and
do
these
reasons
and
placements
have
any
pedagogical
consequence?
Beyond
First-‐Year
Writing:
Expanding
the
Tutorial
Centre
and
Connecting
to
Disciplines
Focusing
on
the
problem
of
heterogeneity
and,
especially,
its
relationship
to
access
and
to
the
work
of
the
Tutorial
Centre
raises
in
a
different
context
the
question
of
limitations
to
a
first-‐year
foundational
course.
When
students
are
admitted
through
the
access
policy,
their
needs
for
special
support
as
writers
and
learners
extend
far
beyond
what
even
an
extended
course
can
do.
What
responsibilities
does
the
RWC
department
have
for
these
needs,
through
what
means?
Specifically,
what
role
should
the
Tutorial
Centre
have
in
supporting
these
students
as
they
move
into
writing
in
academic
courses,
over
the
college
years?
What
communication
or
cooperation
with
faculty
in
other
disciplines
would
that
entail?
How
would
such
an
expansion
of
tutorial
functions
be
funded,
organized,
administered?
29
Anis
S.
Bawarshi
and
Mary
Jo
Reiff,
Genre:
An
Introduction
to
History,
Theory,
Research,
and
Pedagogy,
West
Lafayette:
Parlor
Press/WAC
Clearinghouse,
2010.
35
This
question,
as
it
applies
to
access,
is
just
a
specialized
version
of
the
general
problem
that
a
foundational
course
can
only
be
effective
if
it
is
taught
as
one
element
in
a
much
longer
sequence
of
writing
development.
With
this
issue,
as
with
the
other
lines
of
research
I
have
suggested,
every
effort
to
study
the
first-‐year
course
is
likely
to
lead
back
into
the
writing
environments
that
surround
and
follow
it.
The
fact
is,
first-‐year
writing
is
not
simply
part
of
the
whole
RWC
curriculum;
it
is
the
first
level
in
the
writing
curriculum
of
the
university,
which
is
distributed
among
the
disciplines
(including
RWC
classes),
activities,
and
settings
where
students
write
and
learn.
That
means
that
first-‐year
writing
needs
to
be
articulated
with
writing
in
those
settings,
through
ongoing
interactions
with
faculty
and
students
and,
where
the
opportunity
arises,
partnerships
to
strengthen
the
extended
writing
curriculum.
It
is
not
a
matter
of
trying
to
re-‐institute
a
formal
WAC/WID
program,
which
I
don’t
advocate,
but
of
finding
multiple
ways
to
keep
a
line
of
communication
open
with
faculty
in
the
disciplines
and
student
writers
as
they
move
through
the
university.
Although
an
earlier
WAC
initiative
lapsed,
the
spirit
still
lingers
as
a
legacy
among
many
faculty,
and
can
be
revived
by
various
modest
means,
as
the
opportunity
arises.
For
example,
one
of
the
simplest
ways
to
make
first-‐year
writing
relevant
to
writing
in
the
university
(and
vice
versa)
is
to
invite
faculty
in
the
disciplines
into
first-‐year
classrooms,
as
writers
talking
about
their
experiences
of
writing,
teachers
talking
about
their
assignments,
and
readers
explaining
how
to
interpret
materials
in
their
field
or
comparing
expert
with
popular
representations
of
knowledge.
I
would
suggest
that
the
department
cautiously
explore
selective
initiatives
to
extend
the
functions
of
first-‐year
writing
instruction
and
the
Tutorial
Centre
to
other
levels,
weighing
their
costs
and
benefits:
for
example,
following
up
with
students
who
complete
extended
sections
to
offer
special
support
as
needed
in
disciplinary
courses;
developing
a
Writing
Fellows
program,
in
which
peer
writing
tutors
with
tutorial
training
and
experience
are
located
within
writing-‐intensive
courses
in
the
disciplines;
or
experimenting
with
advanced
links
that
work
with
disciplinary
faculty
to
analyze
and
practice
genres
in
disciplinary
contexts.
All
of
these
possibilities
require
cooperation
and
involvement
from
faculty
in
other
units,
and
choices
among
them
should
reflect
departmental
priorities
and
take
advantage
of
synergies
among
different
parts
of
the
curriculum.
For
example,
a
Writing
Fellows
program
might
both
employ
majors
as
tutors
and
also
attract
new
double
majors
or
minors
from
recruited
tutors
who
had
performed
well
as
writers
and
learners
in
a
targeted
disciplinary
course.
Such
initiatives
would,
of
course,
require
funding,
either
through
reallocation
of
department
resources
or
through
university
or
external
sources.
Using
the
Current
Framework
as
a
Scaffold
for
Change
There
is
so
much
going
on
in
any
first-‐year
writing
course,
and
so
many
demands
placed
upon
it,
that
it
is
important
to
build
a
very
strong
research
base
and
consensus
for
undertaking
any
major
changes.
I
urge
the
department
to
take
a
slow
evolutionary
approach
to
making
actual
changes
and
to
use
the
existing
structure
of
variations
and
options
as
a
viable
continuing
framework;
it
has
the
flexibility
to
allow
experimentation
and
the
potential
to
make
its
problem—an
apparent
philosophical
contradiction—into
an
opportunity.
36
The
structure
of
Academic
Writing,
as
now
organized,
has
two
potentially
viable
concepts
for
writing
instruction.
Both
have
deep
roots
in
the
history
of
the
department,
but
the
generalist
approach
is
stronger
because
it
has
developed
into,
and
reflects,
a
full-‐scale
curriculum
in
the
major,
whereas
the
genre
approach
was
only
sketched
schematically
by
the
organization
of
sections
by
field.
It
was
never
developed
as
a
collective
departmental
project,
and,
with
the
fading
of
the
WAC
initiative,
lost
connection
with
the
disciplines.
I
see
no
need
to
choose
between
them,
however;
maturity
of
a
program,
like
that
of
an
individual,
means
being
comfortable
with
ambiguity,
complexity,
and
paradox.
Rather,
I
suggest
taking
both
more
seriously
and
developing
each
as
fully
as
possible
as
an
intellectual
position
and
pedagogical
model,
so
that
ultimately
they
will
enter
into
a
dialectical
relationship
that
reveals
the
complementary
virtues
and
limitations
of
each.
These
two
pedagogical
positions
do
not
equate,
as
one
might
too
quickly
assume,
with
rhetorical
studies
and
writing
studies
in
any
disciplinary
sense.
Each
of
them
is
compatible
with
a
range
of
theoretical
frameworks
from
different
disciplinary
perspectives.
In
this
department,
the
generalist
position
corresponds,
as
noted
earlier,
with
the
integrative,
interdisciplinary
ethos
of
the
department,
already
projected
into
the
major:
essentially,
a
notion
of
rhetoric
as
a
global
art
for
use
in
writing,
communication,
and
critical
practices.
That
idea
translates
naturally
into
a
first-‐year
pedagogy
of
generic
principles,
to
be
applied
in
subsequent
rhetorical
situations
and
contexts
of
communication.
I
suggest
that
this
conception
of
writing
instruction
be
thought
of
as
what
Paul
Ricoeur
calls
a
“weighted
focus,”
or
productive
bias,
informing
the
whole
curriculum,
to
be
played
against
and
articulated
with
a
genre
perspective
on
how
advanced
writing
develops
in
terms
of
context-‐based
practices.
By
posing
the
two
against
one
another
in
a
dialectic
method—
reading
each
generously,
the
idea
is
to
allow
each
to
bring
out
both
the
virtues
and
limitations
of
the
other.30
To
carry
out
this
method,
though,
requires
making
the
faculty’s
understanding
of
its
preferred
pedagogy
more
explicit
and
critical,
while
using
its
discipline-‐oriented
sections
for
actually
developing
and
instantiating
a
genre-‐oriented
pedagogy.
While
the
department’s
generalist
pedagogy
has
practical
vitality,
it
needs
a
greater
intellectual
investment
to
explain
how
it
relates
Academic
Writing
to
the
rhetorical
curriculum
of
the
major.
This
work
is
not
independent
of
the
suggestions
made
in
earlier
sections
for
enriching
the
whole
curriculum
conceptually;
the
first-‐year
initiative
can
draw
on
such
efforts
from
any
quarter
of
the
department
(individual
or
group),
or
initiate
its
own.
This
work
must
be
critical
as
well,
questioning
assumptions
about
what
is
being
learned
in
Academic
Writing
and
how
easily
it
will
transfer.
Genre
studies
offer
that
criticism,
along
with
research
and
theory
on
the
situations
and
demands
that
advanced
writers
face
in
the
disciplines
and
outside
the
academy.
But
to
play
its
part
in
this
dialectic,
genre
pedagogy
must
have
its
own
place
in
the
curriculum.
That
can
begin,
at
least,
by
30
An
explanation
of
Ricoeur’s
dialectic
method
is
offered
in
Louise
Wetherbee
Phelps,
“The
Third
Way:
Paul
Ricoeur
and
the
Problem
of
Method,”
Ch.
8
in
Composition
as
a
Human
Science:
Contributions
to
the
Self-‐
Understanding
of
a
Discipline
(New
York,
Oxford,
1988).
37
developing
genre
concepts
and
relationships
with
other
disciplines
in
the
discipline-‐
oriented
sections
of
Academic
Writing
(major
fields
and
links),
drawing
particularly
on
the
strong
Canadian
scholarship
in
genre
studies,
which
is
rhetorically
based.
Ultimately,
truly
exploring
genres
in
the
disciplines
for
both
students
and
teachers
requires
going
beyond
first-‐year
writing,
since
experience
with
context-‐specific
genres
is
very
limited
in
most
first-‐year
courses
in
the
disciplines.
The
real
promise
of
this
effort
would
be
to
begin
to
figure
out
what
kind
of
bridging
strategies
make
“transfer”
possible.
For
example,
Academic
Writing
could
develop
genre
itself
as
a
rhetorical
concept
to
prepare
the
way
for
understanding
its
role
in
advanced
applications
of
general
principles.
In
link
sections
teachers
could
work
with
disciplinary
partners
to
illustrate
how
specific
genres
exemplify
such
general
principles
while
also
clarifying
the
kinds
of
knowledge
that
can
only
be
acquired
in
practice
of
such
genres.
All
the
proposals
I’ve
made
for
assessing
and
transforming
Academic
Writing
assume
continuation
of
the
overall
framework
while
trying
to
develop
its
content
more
substantively
and
make
an
apparent
contradiction
into
a
productive
tension.
That
is
to
say,
my
proposals
are
conservative;
not
only
do
they
build
on
what’s
there,
but
they
can
be
paced
according
to
the
department’s
priorities
and
resources.
The
way
to
control
the
pace
is
to
set
long-‐term
schedules
for
research,
reading,
analysis,
and
discussions,
while
inviting
faculty
to
conduct
practical
experiments
and
pilots
of
their
ideas
(which
can
then,
of
course,
be
folded
into
assessment).
Specifically,
I
think
multidisciplinary
sections
can
be
used
as
laboratories
to
push
the
boundaries,
trying
out
alternate
models
of
the
course
and
themes
and
ideas
from
various
sources,
including
other
parts
of
the
curriculum.
For
example,
one
could
have
sections
organized
by
experiential
learning
or
around
undergraduate
research,
or
(from
the
M.A
proposal)
by
a
focus
on
civic
writing
and
advocacy.
Some
sections
might
introduce
digital
and
multimedia
writing,
develop
a
local-‐global
theme,
or
try
to
incorporate
genre
theory
into
the
dominant
rhetorical
approach.
Link
courses
are
inherently
experimental
in
the
connections
they
could
more
actively
explore
between
the
first-‐year
curriculum
and
the
writing
and
reading
of
the
linked
discipline,
by
working
more
closely
with
disciplinary
faculty.
Any
useful
information
that
emerges
from
them
(for
example,
regarding
the
relations
between
expert
and
popular
writing
about
disciplinary
knowledge,
or
the
range
of
actual
assignments)
can
then
be
fed
back
into
the
major
fields
curriculum
to
inform
teachers
or
provide
optional
themes
and
assignments.
Experiments
outside
the
Academic
Writing
curriculum
per
se
could
affect
it
profoundly;
for
example,
if
the
department
develops
a
Writing
Fellows
initiative,
the
Fellows
could
become
a
rich
source
of
knowledge
for
first-‐year
writing
teachers
and
students
about
the
genres
of
particular
fields,
the
applicability
of
general
principles,
the
problems
of
transfer,
and
so
on.
38
PROPOSAL
FOR
M.A
IN
RHETORIC,
WRITING
AND
PUBLIC
LIFE
In
Sept.
2009,
in
response
to
the
university’s
decision
to
expand
graduate
studies,
the
department
submitted
a
proposal
for
a
Master
of
Arts
in
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life
along
with
a
Graduate
Certificate
in
Rhetoric
and
Public
Life.
When
I
arrived,
the
proposal
was
still
pending,
because
of
changes
in
the
climate
for
such
expansion,
and
the
department
was
reluctantly
preparing
to
try
an
alternate
route.
After
two
graduate
programs
were
approved
which
COPSE
was
unable
to
fund,
including
an
M.A
in
Cultural
Studies
from
the
English
Department,
the
university
had
put
a
hold
on
adding
independent
graduate
programs,
including
this
one
from
RWC.
Instead,
the
department
had
been
encouraged
to
consider
the
possibility
of
“nesting”
its
M.A
as
a
stream
within
the
M.A
in
Cultural
Studies.
The
M.A
Subcommittee
was
in
the
process
of
developing
a
revised
proposal
for
this
purpose.
I
was
asked
to
examine
and
evaluate
this
prospect.
Briefly,
the
proposal
as
originally
written
is
for
a
one-‐year
master’s
degree
intended
to
educate
graduates
in
rhetorical
analysis,
design,
and
practical
production
of
writing,
with
a
strong
focus
on
using
this
knowledge
to
support
community-‐based
efforts
for
social
change.
It
claims
that
“our
graduates
will
be
well
positioned
to
continue
to
work
for
social
justice
by
applying
their
expertise
in
their
careers
in
their
volunteer
work,
whether
their
work
contexts
are
activist
organizations
or
mainstream
employers
such
as
government
departments
or
corporations.”
The
centerpiece
of
the
proposed
program
is
its
preparation
of
students
for
real-‐world
practice
of
rhetorical
and
research
skills
through
a
practical
internship,
with
a
companion
course
to
make
the
connections
between
theory
and
practice.
Students
are
also
required
to
learn
research
methods
and
study
relations
between
rhetoric
and
public
life.
The
program’s
theory-‐practice
combination,
along
with
the
focus
on
civic
contributions
by
students
and
graduates,
is
the
most
distinctive
and
unique
feature
of
the
proposed
program.
However,
it
also
provides
a
second
option
for
courses
without
the
internship,
more
oriented
to
academic
study
and
future
doctoral
work.
In
my
initial
reading,
I
found
this
a
strong
proposal
that
built
on
strengths
in
the
department’s
faculty
and
undergraduate
curriculum.
But
members
of
the
M.A
Subcommittee
believed
that
placing
the
program
as
a
stream
within
the
Cultural
Studies
M.A
would
require
significant
revision,
including
stripping
out
its
signature
feature—the
internship
requirement.
Because
important
decisions
on
this
strategy
were
to
be
made
while
I
was
on
campus,
I
made
it
a
priority
for
investigation.
I
will
return
to
the
proposal
itself
after
reporting
that
investigation
and
its
consequences.
The
Streaming
Option
I
interviewed
Dr.
Kathryn
Ready,
the
first
Coordinator
of
the
Cultural
Studies
program,
and
Dr.
Serena
Kesavjee,
Coordinator
of
the
Curatorial
Practices
specialization,
which
had
already
been
implemented
as
a
stream
within
the
Cultural
Studies
MA.
I
also
interviewed
Dean
of
Graduate
Studies
Sandra
Kirby
twice,
the
second
time
in
the
company
of
Catherine
Taylor,
chair
of
the
M.A
Subcommittee.
All
were
candid
and
extremely
helpful
in
clarifying
the
situation.
I
also
touched
on
the
proposed
program
and
possible
streaming
arrangement
39
in
interviews
with
other
administrators,
among
them
Vice
President
(Academic)
John
Corlett
and
Dean
of
Arts
David
Fitzpatrick.
My
questions
focused,
first,
on
trying
to
understand
exactly
what
this
arrangement
would
mean—how
it
would
work—and
what
costs
and
benefits
it
would
have
to
each
program
as
well
as
to
the
university.
These
facts
were
essential
to
weighing
the
viability
of
such
an
arrangement
and
whether
it
was
worth
sacrificing
some
changes
in
order
to
get
the
program
in
place
rather
than
waiting
until
an
independent
program
proposal
would
be
welcomed.
I
was
particularly
concerned
about
the
degree
of
autonomy
for
the
streamed
program
(its
requirements,
curriculum,
administration)
and
the
specific
changes
that
would
be
needed
to
make
it
compatible
with
the
Cultural
Studies
degree
framework.
I
also
wanted
to
know
exactly
what
savings
or
efficiencies
in
use
of
resources,
as
well
as
intellectual
benefits,
would
be
generated
by
nesting
the
program,
and
whether
these
could
be
achieved
in
alternate
ways.
Finally,
I
wanted
to
find
out
directly
from
administrators
whether
there
was
any
chance
that
a
RWC
proposal
for
an
independent
program
could
still
succeed.
On
May
13
I
reported
my
findings
and
recommendations
to
the
M.A
Subcommittee.
First,
on
the
negative
side,
I
concluded
that
the
Cultural
Studies
M.A
was
not
a
viable
framework
for
streaming
the
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life
degree.
It
made
sense
to
stream
Curatorial
Practices,
which
relies
on
cultural
studies
courses
to
supply
the
theoretical
component
of
its
program.
But
the
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life
degree
has
its
own
theory,
represented
in
courses,
and,
in
order
to
gain
any
of
the
hoped-‐for
efficiencies
through
sharing
courses
or
faculty,
would
have
to
give
up
an
essential
feature
that
defines
the
program—the
practicum.
The
specific
expectations
for
how
streaming
would
work
(for
example,
housing
students
from
all
three
programs
in
a
single
research
methods
course)
didn’t
seem
to
me
logistically
practical
or
intellectually
desirable.
The
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life
degree
has
its
own
integrity
and
needs
both
curricular
and
administrative
autonomy.
Further,
I
couldn’t
really
identify
many,
if
any,
financial
advantages
to
the
university
or
the
programs
from
nesting
the
RWPL
program
in
the
Cultural
Studies
degree.
It
appeared
to
me
that
most
of
the
advantages
cited
for
streaming
could
be
achieved
by
cross-‐listed
courses
or
allowing
some
courses
from
either
department
to
be
listed
in
the
other
program
as
a
possible
elective.
At
the
same
time,
my
conversations
with
administrators
were
unexpectedly
positive
about
the
renewed
possibility
for
pursuing
the
proposal
as
an
independent
program.
Vice
President
Corlett
and
Dean
Fitzpatrick
both
encouraged
the
department
to
put
forward,
in
a
new
submission,
a
proposal
for
its
ideal
M.A
program,
built
on
its
own
philosophy
and
strengths,
and
then
explore
ways
to
make
it
work,
comparing
different
models
of
partnership
with
other
academic
units
or
with
organizations
outside
the
institution.
Dean
of
Graduate
Studies
Sandra
Kirby,
in
a
brief
conversation,
expressed
interest
and
asked
me
to
come
back
for
a
second
discussion.
Based
on
these
conversations,
in
my
meeting
with
the
M.A
Subcommittee
I
recommended
that
the
department
suspend
efforts
to
revise
the
proposal
for
streaming
with
Cultural
Studies
and
talk
directly
with
administrators
to
explore
further
the
prospects
for
the
40
original
proposal,
with
whatever
modifications
might
be
desirable
to
strengthen
it.
The
department
should,
I
thought,
not
negotiate
away
or
compromise
what
it
wanted
to
do
in
the
program
ahead
of
time,
by
offering
a
reduced
version
of
its
proposal,
but
remain
open
to
various
possibilities
for
partnerships
with
other
units,
including
Cultural
Studies.
I
thought
it
important
to
show
flexibility,
but
to
set
conditions
to
preserve
the
integrity
of
the
proposal.
(At
that
time
I
also
recommended
certain
changes
to
the
proposal
unconnected
to
the
streaming
option;
these
are
explained
and
amplified
below,
based
on
subsequent
discussions
and
reflection.)
The
next
step
was
for
me
and
Catherine
Taylor
to
meet
again
with
Dean
Kirby
so
that
she
could
understand
the
proposal
better
and
the
department
could
learn
more
about
the
process
for
submission
and
the
(new)
arrangements
for
funding.
Based
on
the
notes
both
of
us
took,
by
the
time
I
left
campus
shortly
after,
the
department
was
positioned
to
revise
the
proposal
and
research
further
possibilities
for
partnerships,
as
recommended
by
Dean
Kirby.
Probably
the
most
important
information
we
learned
in
this
interview
was
about
the
way
graduate
studies
programs
will
be
judged
in
the
new
plan
for
integrated
budgeting
(which
is
still
under
development).
Under
this
type
of
budgeting,
graduate
programs
will
be
funded
through
the
academic
deans’
offices,
rather
than
centrally
through
the
Graduate
Dean’s
office.
The
budget
for
a
department,
including
its
graduate
studies,
will
be
based
on
the
values
and
benefits
overall
of
its
programs,
rather
than
requiring
that
each
program
be
independently
self-‐supporting.
Dean
Kirby
encouraged
the
department
to
think
about
the
program
as
anchored
in
Rhetoric,
Writing,
and
Communications
but
essentially
interdisciplinary,
belonging
to
the
Faculty
of
Arts,
drawing
on
and
contributing
to
other
elements
of
its
culture.
The
department
needs
to
demonstrate
what
benefits
its
program
can
contribute
in
these
terms,
to
the
department,
Arts,
the
university,
and
the
community.
These
values
include
but
are
not
limited
to
financial
contributions
from
graduate
tuition
or
research
funding.
Among
those
we
discussed—not
an
exhaustive
list—were
these:
•
exerting
upward
pressure
on
undergraduate
students,
making
graduate
work
visible
and
achievable
for
them
•
contributing
to
the
university’s
reputation
•
strengthening
other
graduate
programs
•
fostering
student
research
•
increasing
faculty
research
capacity
through
access
to
research
assistants
•
contributing
to
the
Arts
faculty’s
community
profile
and
connections
•
offering
opportunities
for
internships
or
employment
that
benefit
other
units,
community
organizations,
and
companies
.
The
department
does
need
to
pursue
the
whole
range
of
options
for
funding
students
that
can
make
a
small
program
sustainable.
In
the
case
of
this
program,
this
might
include
not
41
only
faculty
research
grants,
but
also
support
from
foundations,
paid
internships,
or
local
organizations
and
companies,
and
relations
to
other
funded
programs,
e.g.,
in
links
to
the
sciences
or
business.
Suggestions
for
Revision
I
turn
back
now
to
the
substance
of
the
proposal.
Based
on
these
discussions
and
my
own
further
reflections,
I
want
to
explain
and
extend
my
recommendations
for
revision.
In
my
original
evaluation,
I
recommended
to
the
M.A
Subcommittee
that
the
proposal
give
more
weight
and
importance
to
the
academic
option
of
completing
coursework
without
the
practicum.
The
proposal
includes
it,
but
it
seems
almost
an
afterthought
rather
than
an
appealing
alternate
track
deliberately
designed
for
future
academics.
In
doing
so,
I
was
thinking
of
the
number
of
undergraduate
majors
in
the
department
who
expressed
strong
interest
in
a
master’s
degree
that
could
launch
them
on
an
academic
career.
I
also
suggested
highlighting
a
broader
range
of
placements
beyond
nonprofit
community
organizations
(a
point
later
reinforced
by
Dean
Kirby).
I
would
like
now
to
enlarge
this
point
to
suggest
that
the
proposal
be
recast
so
that
it
is
not
quite
so
highly
specialized
to
prepare
community-‐based
advocates
for
social
change,
while
retaining
this
ethic
of
citizenship
as
a
strong
philosophical
element
in
the
degree.
I
believe
that
with
relatively
minor
changes,
the
program
can
become
somewhat
less
of
a
niche
program
and
appeal
to
a
broad
range
of
prospective
students.
In
doing
so,
the
Master’s
degree
will
become
a
closer
fit
with
the
generalist,
integrative
character
of
the
department
and
will
have
a
greater
pool
of
potential
students.
It
will
not
take
a
great
deal
to
make
this
revision,
because
the
proposal
anticipates
its
broader
appeal
in
many
places.
First,
let
me
reflect
a
bit
on
the
students
the
program
could
attract.
Its
fundamental
strength
(like
that
of
its
undergraduate
programs)
lies
in
its
firm
roots
in
practice,
coupled
with
academic
study
of
rhetoric,
its
audiences,
and
its
social
contexts.
As
the
proposal
notes,
this
kind
of
generalist
rhetorical
education
is
needed
in
a
wide
range
of
careers,
not
limited
to
activist
work
with
community
organizations.
The
proposal
itself
lists
a
variety
of
employment
destinations
where
strong
communication
skills
are
needed.
It
also
recognizes
that
it
is
desirable
for
the
ethic
of
social
justice
and
citizenship
that
it
emphasizes
in
rhetorical
practice
to
be
diffused
across
contexts
like
government
departments,
corporations
and
small
businesses,
law,
politics,
and
education.
It
seems
to
me
that
the
department
can
reconceive
this
degree
to
prepare
students
for
ethical
and
skilled
rhetorical
practice
in
any
such
real-‐world
contexts
where
advocacy
and
strong
argumentation
are
needed.
Internships,
as
stated
in
the
proposal
(and
as
emphasized
by
Sandra
Kirby)
should
be
open
to
a
wide
variety
of
settings
including
corporations,
the
communication
industry,
and
the
university
itself.
At
the
same
time,
the
ability
to
prepare
students
for
careers
and
volunteer
activities
in
“public
life”
and
community
advocacy
constitutes
a
unique,
niche
feature
of
the
program.
A
second
theme,
however,
needs
to
be
brought
out
and
enhanced:
that
is
preparation
for
careers
in
literacy
and
rhetorical
education.
A
number
of
students
will
want
to
take
the
42
Masters
as
a
route
into
doctoral
studies
and
a
career
in
the
academy.
The
department
has
already
conceived
internships
that
support
this
goal,
including
the
literacy
internship
and
Writing
Centre
internship,
with
a
companion
course.
But
this
strand
of
the
program
can
also
serve
to
prepare
students
to
use
the
M.A
degree
as
a
terminal
degree
to
prepare
them
for
secondary
or
postsecondary
teaching
or
for
community
literacy
education
and
adult
education.
In
this
connection,
the
department
might
want
to
study
a
recent
report
on
U.S.
Master’s
degrees
in
English
from
the
Modern
Language
Association.31
The
report
demonstrates
that
in
the
U.S.,
the
increase
in
numbers
of
non-‐tenure-‐track
faculty
has
led
students
to
treat
the
M.A
degree
as
a
route
to
a
career
in
post-‐secondary
education.
“The
master’s
degree
in
English
has
acquired
increased
complexity
and
significance
as
a
credential
and
route
to
employment
in
higher
education,
secondary
and
elementary
school
teaching,
and
business,
government,
and
not-‐for-‐profit
organizations”
(1).
The
M.A
in
Rhetoric,
Writing
and
Public
Life
could
easily
be
adapted
and
presented
as
serving
this
additional
purpose.
The
kinds
of
changes
to
the
proposal
I
am
suggesting
are
largely
rhetorical,
in
how
the
degree
is
conceptualized
and
presented
to
a
broader
range
of
audiences,
emphasizing
more
its
generalist
nature
and
the
range
of
career
possibilities.
The
internship
would
be
valuable
for
all
these
kinds
of
students
and
possible
careers,
with
the
possible
exception
of
students
heading
for
doctoral
studies,
who
may
want
to
emphasize
research-‐oriented
coursework,
academic
writing
experiences,
and
perhaps
research
internships.
However,
there
are
some
possible
implications
for
the
curriculum,
in
particular
the
companion
courses
and
research
methods.
The
companion
courses
as
they
stand
are
extremely
specialized
and
matched
up
almost
one
to
one
with
types
of
internships.
If
the
range
of
the
practicum
is
as
broad
as
anticipated,
this
kind
of
specialization
will
not
be
practical.
The
department
can’t
keep
adding
companion
courses
for
every
new
setting
for
the
practicum.
I
can
think
of
two
solutions
to
this
problem.
First,
it
is
not
entirely
clear
to
me
why
it
takes
a
3-‐credit
course
to
reflect
on
the
practicum
and
connect
theory
to
practice.
It
seems
to
me
the
companion
course
could
be
conceived
as
an
appropriate
theory
course,
even
available
as
an
elective
to
those
not
taking
the
practicum,
with
the
third
credit
of
this
course
being
devoted
either
to
a
discussion
of
the
internship
experience
in
terms
of
theory-‐practice
relations,
or
(for
those
taking
the
academic
option)
to
writing
a
seminar
paper
with
workshop
support.
(The
workshop
support
for
the
latter
could
be
organized
to
include
students
from
all
companion
courses.)
A
second
alternative
is
to
have
only
one
or
two
companion
courses
that
are
broadly
designed
for
students
in
any
internship
to
compare
and
analyze
their
experiences,
perhaps
with
differentiated
theoretical
readings
for
the
different
types
of
practicum.
Currently,
the
research
methods
course
is
extremely
specific
in
its
focus
on
community-‐
based
action
research.
I
question
whether
this
will
be
appropriate
to
all
internships
and
practicum
experiences
and
also
to
the
academic
option,
even
though
it
does
cover
a
wide
31
“ADE
Ad
Hoc
Committee
on
the
Master’s
Degree,
“Rethinking
the
Master’s
Degree
in
English
for
a
New
Century,”
Web
publication,
June
2011.
43
range
of
methodologies.
It
is
difficult
to
offer
two
versions
of
such
a
course
when
classes
are
expected
to
be
small.
The
department
should
think
about
how
to
accommodate
student
needs
for
research
methods
that
are
not
limited
to
community-‐based
action
or,
perhaps,
not
even
to
qualitative
social
science
methods.
Although
the
department
may
be
reluctant
to
outsource
a
required
course
to
another
department,
the
faculty
might
consider
working
with
partner
departments
to
match
up
some
students
(especially
in
the
academic
option)
with
research
methods
courses
that
fit
different
needs.
Experience
suggests
to
me
that
when
a
department
offers
a
strong
degree
in
an
attractive
subject
matter
not
well-‐represented
in
the
region,
it
is
likely
to
attract
local
students
who
are
very
diverse
in
their
interests
and
goals,
as
distinct
from
the
more
homogeneous
group
of
students
drawn
from
a
national
pool
who
seek
a
highly
specialized
degree.
I
believe
this
degree
is
more
likely
to
experience
the
former
situation
than
the
latter,
especially
in
view
of
the
undergraduate
major
and
its
range
of
students,
and
recommend
that
the
department
conceive
its
proposal
and
curriculum
accordingly.
The
department
is
understandably
impatient
to
move
forward
with
this
proposal,
but
I
would
counsel
avoiding
haste
and
taking
the
time
to
refine
and
strengthen
it,
in
response
to
Dean
Kirby’s
advice
and
my
suggestions
above.
Given
the
complexity
and
length
of
the
approval
process,
she
indicated
that
admitting
students
for
a
Fall
2012
startup
would
require
working
at
a
very
rapid
pace,
beginning
immediately
(i.e.,
in
May).
Besides
the
formal
steps,
with
the
information
gathering
they
require,
she
also
suggested
multiplying
connections
and
partnerships
that
could
add
value
to
the
program.
There
is
an
element
of
political
and
rhetorical
work
in
any
such
process,
not
only
to
consult
and
gain
the
RWC
faculty’s
endorsement
of
changes,
but
also
to
cultivate
support
from
other
faculty
and
administrators
on
campus.
In
light
of
the
various
priorities
the
faculty
will
be
weighing
for
curricular
work,
I
believe
a
2013
start
would
be
more
realistic.
A
final
word
with
respect
to
all
curricular
innovation
and,
especially,
expansion:
department
planners
need
to
analyze
budgetary
implications
and,
where
necessary,
look
for
sources
of
new
funding.
Some
program
renovation
can
be
done
within
an
existing
instructional
budget,
but
if
the
department
is
adding
sections,
courses,
tutorial
functions,
or
other
new
responsibilities,
these
will
require
additional
funding.
One
of
the
virtues
of
small
experiments
and
pilots
(discussed
below)
is
to
demonstrate
concretely
what
value
they
add,
whom
they
serve,
what
synergies
they
create.
Sometimes
the
pilots
themselves
can
be
funded
with
micro-‐grants.
The
department
needs
to
build
this
kind
of
thinking
into
curriculum
planning
and
program
renewal.
44
Process,
Governance
and
Leadership,
and
Hiring
PROCESS
The
process
modeled
during
my
visit
and
in
this
report
represents
a
pattern
or
cycle
of
program
development,
as
visualized
in
the
attached
diagram
(Appendix
3).
It
asks
a
department
with
responsibility
for
a
curriculum
at
several
levels
to
operate
as
a
teaching
community
with
a
built-‐in
think
tank.
As
I
have
tried
to
demonstrate,
the
department’s
own
scholarly
and
curricular
materials
are
among
its
richest
resources,
but
the
process
also
connects
the
curriculum
and
teachers
to
scholarly
communities
through
relevant
readings.
The
process
begins
with
research—gathering
and
analyzing
data,
seeking
input
through
broad
consultation
with
multiple
constituencies,
reading
and
discussing
curricular
materials
and
scholarly
writing.
This
research,
which
continues
recursively
through
other
phases
of
curriculum
development,
produces
the
kind
of
concrete,
hands-‐on
materials
that
should
be
the
focus
and
catalyst
for
any
group
discussion:
syllabi,
assignments,
faculty
publications,
survey
data,
student
work,
scholarly
readings.
It
is
usually,
though
not
always,
a
group
responsibility,
taken
up
in
committees,
subcommittees,
task
forces,
and
reading
groups
that
may
include
faculty,
staff,
and
students.
Another
component
of
the
process
is
experimentation.
I
strongly
advocate
experimenting
with
pedagogical
ideas
and
approaches
in
small
pilots
to
test
them
at
low
risk
before
formalizing
the
most
successful
in
broader
curricular
change.
Many
innovations—for
example,
uses
of
new
technologies,
perhaps
pioneered
by
a
few
early
adopters—can
simply
spread
informally
by
diffusion.
I
recommend
that
in
multi-‐section
courses
these
experiments
be
in
pairs
or
trios,
in
what
I
call
co-‐teaching
arrangements.
Each
person
teaches
a
similar
version
of
an
experimental
course
design
or
pilots
new
pedagogical
strategies
in
the
company
of
a
partner
teaching
a
parallel
section.
They
compare
and
discuss
their
experiences,
then
report
back
their
results
and
student
response
to
appropriate
groups.
These
processes
of
research
and
experimentation
are
knitted
together
by
conversations,
sometimes
simply
exploratory,
other
times
critical,
often
debating
problems
and
choices,
their
consequences,
the
benefits
and
costs
they
represent,
the
conflicts
they
embody.
Many
faculty
members
spoke
of
the
importance
of
respecting
one
another’s
positions
and
expertise.
That
is
certainly
a
prerequisite
for
collective
action
and
mutual
coexistence
by
a
diverse
faculty.
But
it
is
not
enough.
The
faculty
needs
to
cultivate
the
hermeneutical
quality
of
appreciation.
Appreciation
is
closely
linked
with
respect
because
not
being
appreciated
is
felt
as
disrespect.
But
it
requires
more
than
distanced
respect
or
tolerance;
it
requires
knowledge:
learning
what
others
believe
and
feel
strongly
about;
what
their
work
actually
is,
whether
in
curriculum,
leadership,
published
scholarship,
teaching,
student
mentorship,
or
something
else;
what
talents
and
commitments
it
expresses.
Reading
one
another’s
scholarship
and
curricular
materials
when
there
is
nothing
at
stake,
or
reading
scholarship
together
from
one
another’s
disciplines
and
influences,
lays
the
ground
for
45
more
productive
debates
when
decisions
need
to
be
made.
Appreciation
also
involves
patience,
listening
instead
of
defending,
seeking
people
out
before
putting
together
proposals
in
order
to
learn
their
thoughts
and
hopes
and
to
take
into
account
the
impact
decisions
will
have
on
their
own
work
and
priorities.
The
department
has
a
tradition
of
mutual
respect,
in
the
sense
(as
explained
to
me)
of
“everyone
being
equal”
regardless
of
rank
or
status.
This
can’t
realistically
mean
that
everyone
does
the
same
things,
has
the
same
role
and
responsibilities
in
the
department,
or
has
the
same
talents
or
“credentials.”
What
it
can
mean
is
that
the
values
that
determine
rank
or
status
are
not
equivalent
to
levels
of
respect
and
appreciation.
It
means
not
stereotyping
people
by
category.
I
think
this
idea
is
expressed
in
President
Axworthy’s
concept
of
a
community
of
learners:
“One
of
the
most
effective
ways
to
.
.
.
[achieve
significant
change]
is
to
treat
the
entire
University
and
surrounding
community
as
a
place
of
learning
and
to
encourage
University
faculty,
staff
and
students
to
all
see
themselves
as
teachers
and
as
learners
prepared
to
challenge
and
be
challenged
by
the
ideas
and
experiences
of
the
people
with
whom
they
share
the
campus
and
neighborhood”
(“The
University
and
Community
Learning”
5).
Two
specific
questions
on
administering
curriculum
came
up
during
my
visit.
The
first
is
the
principle
of
faculty
autonomy;
the
second,
the
question
of
“ownership”
of
particular
course
designs.
Faculty
autonomy
with
respect
to
teaching
is
historically
an
important
principle
in
the
department,
which
I
fully
endorse.
However,
it
can
be
taken
to
an
extreme
if
it
cuts
off
the
kind
of
communication
over
pedagogy
that
fosters
shared
principles
and
practices
in
a
teaching
community,
especially
where
multiple
teachers
have
responsibility
for
the
same
required
course
(Academic
Writing)
in
which
many
constituencies
have
a
stake
and
an
influence.
I
think
the
pendulum
did
swing
too
far
in
that
direction
when
Academic
Writing
was
first
introduced
without
a
program-‐wide,
systematic
professional
development
initiative,
and
it
became
a
habit
for
teachers
to
teach
their
sections
in
relative
isolation.
This
is
problematic
enough
with
experienced
teachers;
it
will
become
a
serious
challenge
whenever
the
department
hires
new
faculty.
The
answer
is
not
to
reduce
faculty
autonomy,
but
to
encourage
a
process
whereby
individual
faculty
invention
can
inform
the
curriculum
while
faculty
communication
can
keep
a
collectively
taught
course
or
major
from
fragmenting
into
isolated
parts.
That
is
the
goal
of
the
process
I
have
described
for
experimentation,
assessment,
and
diffusion
of
successful
ideas
and
strategies,
developing
consensus
for
broad
changes
in
framework,
but
never
imposing
a
single
model
on
all
teachers
and
instantiations
of
the
curriculum
in
sections
or
courses.
Some
members
of
the
Curriculum
Committee
indicated
they
had
struggled
with
the
sensitive
question
of
the
extent
to
which
individuals
can
“own”
courses
they
have
developed.
When
someone
develops
a
new
course,
especially
one
reflecting
personal
expertise,
perhaps
in
a
highly
specialized
area,
it
is
natural
that
he
or
she
should
feel
a
sense
of
ownership.
That
translates
into
wanting
to
continue
teaching
the
course
or
to
46
prevent
others
teaching
it
who,
perhaps,
lack
the
expertise
necessary
to
teach
it
well.
It
is
often
desirable
when
developing
a
course
to
experiment
with
it
over
several
terms
in
order
to
perfect
it.
That
said,
ultimately
decisions
about
course
assignments
must
be
made
for
the
benefit
of
the
department.
Decision-‐makers
must
take
into
consideration
the
impact
on
students
and
the
need
to
balance
teaching
assignments
to
meet
various,
possibly
conflicting
criteria:
putting
faculty
talents
to
best
use;
ensuring
variety
in
faculty
teaching
assignments;
taking
into
account
the
kind
of
records
faculty
need
to
build
for
tenure
or
promotion
applications;
filling
in
for
faculty
on
leave;
and
so
on.
No
one
“owns”
a
course—
it
is
developed
and
approved
by
the
university
as
part
of
a
curriculum,
and
it
is
unwise
to
add
a
course
to
a
curriculum
that
only
one
person
is
capable
of
teaching.
If,
as
I
suggest
below,
the
department
hires
for
versatility,
it
can
expect
faculty
to
learn
how
to
teach
new
courses,
with
the
aid
of
the
original
developer.
GOVERNANCE
AND
LEADERSHIP
The
process
described
generally
in
the
previous
section
can
be
operationalized
at
different
levels
from
an
individual
course
designer
to
the
department
as
a
whole,
but
it
is
most
often
carried
out
by
groups
who
have
a
departmental
mandate
to
solve
a
problem,
make
decisions,
develop
proposals,
or
carry
out
other
tasks
on
behalf
of
the
department.
These
are
typically
standing
committees,
special
committees
or
subcommittees,
or
task
forces
set
up
by
department
leaders
or
personnel
committees,
with
consent
(tacit
or
explicit)
from
the
faculty
at
large.
Sometimes,
though,
volunteer
groups
or
individuals
can
develop
ideas,
read
materials,
or
conduct
experiments
on
their
own
which
eventually
enter
the
broader
cycle
of
program
development
through
diffusion
or
through
a
formal
proposal.
Many
of
the
thematic
ideas
in
earlier
sections,
as
well
as
individual
course
designs,
technology
innovation,
and
participation
in
partnerships
outside
the
department,
fall
in
this
more
informal
category.
To
the
extent
the
department
decides
to
proceed
with
suggestions
in
this
report
for
curricular
renewal
or
reform,
the
faculty
at
large
must
conduct
discussions
to
make
the
initial
decisions
which
are
prerequisites
for
the
broad
process
of
program
renewal.
These
include
prioritizing
faculty
time
and
departmental
resources
among
the
various
potential
projects
and
elements
of
the
curriculum;
distributing
responsibilities
to
particular
committees
or
other
groups;
planning
schedules
that
determine
the
pace
and
intensity
of
various
groups’
work;
and
correlating
decisions
with
external
facts
like
available
funding
or
administrative
encouragement.
While
each
group,
once
underway,
will
function
semi-‐
autonomously,
it
is
important
that
their
processes
be
coordinated,
so
that
groups
can
share
information
where
appropriate
and
their
recommendations
will
in
the
end
be
mutually
relevant
and
compatible.
I
would
suggest
that,
once
the
faculty
decides
on
particular
goals,
tasks,
and
assignments,
it
should
establish
a
coordinating
mechanism.
For
example,
this
could
be
a
coordinating
committee
consisting
of
the
department
chair
plus
all
chairs
of
committees
or
other
groups
working
on
a
major
curricular
project,
which
would
meet
periodically
to
share
information
and
problem-‐solve
about
potential
conflicts,
overlaps,
etc.
The
coordinating
committee
would
maintain
a
master
schedule,
make
the
committee
work
as
transparent
and
accessible
as
possible,
and
(particularly
but
not
only
the
department
47
chair)
take
important
responsibilities
for
liaison
with
administrators
and
units
outside
the
department.
At
some
point,
groups
conducting
focused
research
and
discussions
among
themselves,
like
a
Curriculum
Committee,
need
to
make
recommendations
for
decisions
that
need
broad
review
in
the
department,
votes,
and
presentation
to
university
committees,
administrators,
granting
organizations,
and/or
higher
bodies
for
approval.
This
requires
departmental
“deliberation”—a
rhetorical
concept
that
implies
a
slow,
careful
process
that
can
be
used
to
build
agreement.
Although
“consensus”
without
dissent
may
not
be
possible,
it
is
best,
for
curricular
additions
or
changes
that
will
affect
everyone,
to
strive
for
very
broad
support
by
the
time
they
are
formalized.
The
pattern
of
program
development
that
I’ve
described,
which
incorporates
persuasive
mechanisms
like
dialogue,
questioning,
research
and
appeal
to
evidence,
experiments
and
demonstration
of
success,
is
conducive
to
building
such
support.
In
times
of
stability,
a
department
can
afford
routines
of
governance
that
assume
little
conflict.
However,
governance
in
liminal
periods
like
this
one
require
practices
adapted
to
deal
with
the
conflicts,
traumas,
and
passions
that
inevitably
arise
under
conditions
of
accelerated
change.
Besides
the
processes
of
curriculum
development
and
attitudes
of
respect
and
appreciation
I
have
already
advocated,
I
want
to
offer
advice
on
a
few
other
issues
that
were
discussed
during
my
visit.
What
is
the
role
and
prerogative
of
committees
when
they
take
up
tasks
on
behalf
of
the
department?
In
general,
all
committee
decisions
in
a
department
are
at
least
reported
to
the
full
faculty,
and
often
formal
approval
by
faculty
vote
is
required
for
the
report.
This
process
is
usually
sufficient
for
relatively
routine
tasks,
or
sometimes
for
sensitive
decisions
(involving
confidential
information)
delegated
formally
to
the
committee.
Under
these
conditions,
departmental
approval
is
typically
a
formality.
However,
for
any
substantive
decision
or
proposed
change
affecting
the
department
at
large,
committees
can
have
no
expectation
that
the
faculty
will
automatically
approve
its
choices,
no
matter
how
hard
the
committee
has
worked
and
how
much
expert
knowledge
it
has
developed.
This
is
a
rhetorical
situation
and
the
committee
must
treat
it
as
such,
not
only
when
bringing
the
final
proposal
or
decision
to
the
faculty,
but
throughout
the
process
of
developing
it.
If
the
proposal
or
decision
is
going
to
be
reviewed
and
approved
by
bodies
beyond
the
department,
consulting
with
external
stakeholders
and
seeking
allies
should
begin
long
before
the
proposal
comes
forward,
rather
than
springing
it
on
other
faculties
suddenly
in
a
formal
setting
like
the
Senate,
where
it
is
likely
to
provoke
pushback
based
on
fear,
misunderstanding,
competing
agendas,
and
so
on.
(That
is
one
reason
that
I
strongly
urge
the
department
to
take
this
coming
year
to
build
support
for
the
new
M.A
proposal
before
presenting
it
the
following
fall.
Faculty
members
and
administrators
indicated
that
there
is
some
general
resentment
of
adding
research
and
graduate
studies
to
the
traditional
commitment
to
undergraduate
teaching,
and
the
faculty
may
need
to
address
other
concerns
and
objections
specific
to
this
M.A
proposal
or
to
the
department.)
In
these
circumstances,
within
the
department
a
committee
with
responsibility
for
planning,
proposing,
or
recommending
future
actions
or
decisions
should
start
by
openly
48
soliciting
opinions
and
ideas
from
the
entire
faculty
in
a
variety
of
ways,
for
example,
open
meetings,
surveys,
informal
interviews
and
discussions.
As
particular
ideas
come
up
and
are
drafted
for
action,
the
committee
should
keep
communicating
informally
with
department
members,
discussing
potential
choices
with
individuals
and
small
groups
outside
the
committee,
based
on
their
expertise
or
investment,
to
get
feedback
and
test
out
the
limits
of
consensus.
It
is
particularly
important
to
seek
out
the
opinions
of
potential
critics
and
dissenters.
In
the
case
of
proposals
to
be
judged
ultimately
outside
the
department,
the
committee
should
begin
consultations
with
external
stakeholders
early
in
the
process
as
well.
These
discussions
will
lead
the
committee
to
make
revisions
to
meet
some
objections
and
plan
responses
and
refutations
to
others.
When
the
committee’s
ideas
solidify
enough
to
agree
on
a
full
draft,
it
should
bring
that
draft
to
the
faculty
for
discussion,
and
then
take
its
feedback
into
consideration
before
returning
with
the
final
proposal,
decision,
statement
(or
whatever)
for
discussion
and
vote.
At
this
point,
ideally
the
committee
should
know
enough
about
sentiment
in
the
department
to
be
able
to
put
forward
a
motion
that
will
pass.
Because
the
proposal
is
already
familiar,
both
the
faculty
and
the
committee
will
understand
the
various
positions,
what
is
at
stake,
what
the
various
factions
and
positions
are,
and
what
kinds
of
arguments
might
be
persuasive.
Outbursts
and
emotional
responses
in
department
meetings
happen
most
often
when
faculty
are
taken
by
surprise,
especially
when
an
unexpected
and
consequential
proposal
is
suddenly
presented
for
immediate
action.
Faculty
resent
the
lack
of
consultation
along
the
way
and
suspect
the
forced
urgency
that
prevents
deliberation.
Transitional
times
inevitably
raise
the
issue
of
leadership.
In
the
first
place,
transition
is
defined
partly
by
the
very
fact
that
personnel
changes
are
imminent:
senior
faculty
retiring,
administrators
ending
terms,
maturing
young
faculty
enlarging
the
pool
of
potential
leaders.
To
these
recurrent,
natural
changes,
program
renewal
adds
a
new
set
of
leadership
challenges
and
leadership
roles:
assessment
and
the
research
it
entails;
curriculum
and
course
design;
building
departmental
consensus
for
change;
professional
development
for
new
faculty
and
for
continuing
faculty
teaching
a
new
curriculum;
fund-‐raising;
forming
partnerships
with
other
units;
the
rhetorical
labor
of
taking
proposals
through
an
approval
process.
These
tasks
require
a
broad
range
of
talents.
Part
of
leadership
is
to
recognize
who
has
which
talents
and
match
them
to
tasks
and
roles.
It
is
a
broad
department
responsibility,
but
especially
that
of
the
department
chair
and
senior
faculty,
to
plan
for
leadership
well
before
a
crisis
arises
and
to
cultivate
the
leadership
abilities
of
younger
and
maturing
faculty.
This
means
not
only
giving
them
opportunities
to
play
a
leadership
role
on
a
committee
or
in
a
project,
but
also
mentoring
them
in
these
roles
with
frank
assessment
and
sympathetic
advice,
helping
them
to
make
plans,
solve
problems,
assess
their
own
performance,
and
learn
from
their
mistakes.
While
some
people
have
natural
leadership
abilities,
leadership
is
also
a
learned
skill.
In
a
small
department,
it
is
important
to
recognize
that
almost
everyone
is
a
candidate
for
some
level
of
leadership,
and
many
reveal
hidden
potential
when
their
nascent
abilities
are
cultivated
and
nurtured.
FUTURE
HIRING
I
turn
now
to
advice
on
future
hiring,
which
is
inextricably
tied
up
with
planning
long-‐term
for
curriculum
development
and
program
renewal.
49
While
on
campus,
I
sensed
that
anticipation
of
future
hiring
decisions
was
centering
around
the
departmental
organizing
terms
and
their
(mis)identification
with
disciplines.
I
hope
I
have
shown
convincingly
why
that
is
not
the
most
productive
approach.
Instead,
I
suggest
the
following
criteria
in
proposing
new
faculty
hires,
as
turnover
permits,
and
in
selecting
among
prospective
applicants.
In
general,
in
a
small
department
hiring
should
build
strengths
on
strengths
rather
than
moving
into
unrelated
new
areas,
unless
it
is
expanding
its
total
size
or
taking
on
new
responsibilities.
I
have
tried
to
describe
these
strengths
and
needs
throughout
this
report.
In
general,
the
faculty
should
seek
new
faculty
who
will
preserve
the
character
and
distinctive
identity
of
the
department
while
also
helping
it
to
evolve.
In
filling
in
gaps,
priorities
should
follow
identified
needs
for
current
or
planned
programs
and
their
future
directions.
The
purpose
should
be
to
correlate
faculty
appointments
with
curricular
plans
and
initiatives
rather
than
disciplinary
background
per
se.
These
directions
create
needs
for
intellectual
leadership,
expertise,
and
perhaps
administrative
roles,
and
they
also
create
opportunities
for
faculty
research
that
will
attract
good
faculty.
Based
on
my
analysis
and
recommendations
for
such
directions,
the
department
might
seek
faculty
with
expertise
or
knowledge
in
these
areas:
1)
Genre
studies
and
writing
in
the
disciplines,
possibly
professional
communication
and
writing
in
the
workplace;
special
interest
in
most
promising
disciplines
for
partnership
(e.g.,
sciences,
business,
urban
studies)
2)
“Basic
writing,”
ESL
writing,
and/or
applied
linguistics
3)
First-‐year
writing
programs
and
writing
centres
(usually,
generalist
composition/writing
studies
background,
sometimes
WAC/WID
interest);
possibly
administrative
experience
with
one
or
both.
To
these
I
would
add
for
all
new
faculty
hires
a
preference
for
a
strong
capability
in
evolving
technologies,
digital
communication,
and
their
uses
in
teaching.
The
department
will
be
able
to
expect
this
from
almost
any
new
graduate
in
the
fields
it
will
be
hiring
in.
Although
I
don’t
think
it
is
necessarily
an
immediate
priority,
projecting
into
the
future,
ultimately
it
will
be
important
to
add
faculty
members
with
research
specialties
and
scholarly
expertise
in
these
areas.
There
is
no
need
to
predetermine
the
disciplinary
backgrounds
of
candidates
with
these
qualifications.
Rather,
whatever
their
training,
the
department
needs
to
hire
faculty
members
who
will
support
the
generalist
integrations
and
dialogue
among
scholarly
traditions
that
represent
the
department’s
strengths
and
distinctive
synthesis.
They
should
also
share
the
social
commitments
to
pedagogy
and
community
learning
that
typify
the
faculty
and
institution.
They
should
not
be
hyperspecialists
in
their
research
and
teaching
interests,
but
versatile,
able
to
teach
a
range
of
courses
and
ready
to
take
up
new
topics
or
approaches.
With
this
kind
of
a
profile
in
hiring
descriptions,
candidates
most
likely
will
bring
some
combination
of
strengths
in
disciplinary
knowledge,
research
methods,
and
specializations.
50
The
department
should
also
consider
leadership
capacity
and
administrative
savvy
in
future
faculty.
It
is
a
delicate
matter
to
decide
how
much
faculty
time
should
be
allocated
to
formal
administrative
roles
beyond
that
of
department
chair.
The
advantage
of
having
the
department
chair
also
act
as
de
facto
head
of
all
the
curricular
programs
is
that
faculty
time
is
freed
up
for
research,
teaching,
and
extracurricular
work
in
the
community
or
with
partners
around
campus.
However,
this
begs
the
question
of
where
the
intellectual
leadership
of
each
program
will
come
from,
and
how
centralized
or
diffuse
that
leadership
will
be.
As
the
department
revisits
and
assesses
its
established
programs,
it
will
need
to
decide
what
kind
of
administration
or
leadership
arrangements
each
will
need
in
the
future.
I
do
think
that
the
first-‐year
program,
at
least,
will
need
some
more
formalized
leadership
structure
when
a
new
plan
is
decided
on,
perhaps
coinciding
with
the
election
of
a
new
department
chair.
This
could
be
a
committee
whose
members
could
take
responsibility
for
professional
development
for
teachers
as
well
as
intellectual
development
of
the
course,
perhaps
headed
by
a
coordinator
taking
some
administrative
responsibilities
now
handled
by
the
department
chair.
In
the
same
time
frame,
the
department
will
need
to
consider
appointing
a
director
for
the
Tutorial
Centre,
which
may
then
be
expanding
its
responsibilities.
51
Appendices
52