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A sometimes vast hurdle in the preliminary part of the writing process is invention. While many thoughts may be floating about in the head of the writer, getting that one specific idea herded into a hypothesis upon the paper often takes more effort and frustration than any of the other writing process components. Many tactics exist for writers to employ in order to organize their thoughts into a coherent and valid paper. Free-writing helps students to write with abandon in the hopes that their thoughts will eventually formulate into sentences with which they many begin forming an outline of sorts. Free-writing also aides the student in inventing a plethora of material from which they can draw while actually writing their paper. Occasionally, students become so uptight with the invention part of the writing process that they feel hopeless, or distraught. On these occasions it may be helpful for the student to stop everything and take a walk, or simply lie down and empty their minds. Other tactics that students may wish to try in order to empty their minds include yoga, meditation, or physical exercise. By emptying their minds, students often find they invent an idea for their paper without even realizing it.

As a religious studies major at Stetson, I was "strongly persuaded" to use the scientific method to form my ideas and papers for that department. While I am not a scientifically minded person, I have found the skeleton of the scientific method quite helpful in writing my own papers -- in English, and in literature, as well as in religious studies. The way in which scientists approach ideas runs throughout the gamut of diverse concentrations and thinking, so it really is not too much of a jump to relate it to the humanities. Though some students, like myself, find it difficult to wrap their head around the scientific method at first, it truly does simplify the writing process, I believe.

Last spring, I gave a presentation on the following outline in a first-year honors program class at Stetson, in which I was a "co-teacher." I used this because the students were having difficulty writing their first big research papers, and they were, for the most part, scientifically minded. My own ENC 1101 students this semester are nearly all science majors; therefore, in explaining part of the writing process to them, I find they most readily relate to the scientific method. I have found they appreciate this approach even more greatly as they struggle to comprehend all the facets of Project 3. While my ENC 1101 co-teacher and I can talk until we are blue in the face about the writing process and all the beauty, enchantment, and excitement of literary analysis (let's be honest, we Lit people lust over literary analysis at times), most anti-English majors will look at you as if you just came out of the ceiling with no face. However, once I mentioned the scientific method -- goodness, it was as if their god had shone immortal light down, into our dank, business-building, somewhat uncomfortable, classroom. They were all voices and assent as we lightly tripped across that glorious answer in which they all seem desiring to place their futures -- the scientific method!

Below is my adaptation of the scientific method to research papers in the humanities. Perhaps it will be helpful to those of you who, like me, cannot always relate to the scientific students.

Scientific Method

(adapted by Jamie Kinsley to analytical research papers in the humanities)

• Hypothesis

• Empirical evidence not necessary, but makes argument stronger

• Secondary sources

• Can go to other disciplines in order to give evidence to support hypothesis

• i.e. if writing a paper on Autobiography of a Face could go to psychology books, or sociology data in order to give stats or professional evidence of claims you are making.

• Important to always analyze – cannot merely make a claim, must cite evidence to support it – cannot just cite evidence, must give your own analysis at all times

• When researching

• Do not have to read every word of every book at which you are looking
• Can skim
• Use indexes
• Read book summaries – very helpful
• Look for key words
• Use bibliographies
• Cross reference
• Go to primary sources – do not re-quote – find it for yourself

• “Cross referencing”
• Give reference to scholars who both agree and disagree with you – most likely they will have overlapping opinions, use these opinions in an organized fashion – allow them to enter into discussion in your paper, while still retaining your hypothesis.

• MAKE A CONCLUSION – think of this literally, rather than constrained by rules. Reach for that something greater – your paper strives to continually test and support your hypothesis, and your conclusion exists to drive home the reason your hypothesis is unique, viable, and dynamic.

Critical pedagogy can work, if, as George says, students and teachers remain on the same wavelength of respect and trust. I, perhaps idealistically, believe that we can force our students to question why they believe what they believe without overstepping our bounds and without imposing our own views upon them. Perhaps I am straying slightly from George’s article here, and thinking about the previous article and the class discussion that sprung from it. At any rate, I have a bachelors degree in Religious Studies, where it is imperative that the professors bring students to the breaking point in questioning the world around them in order for the students to absorb religious knowledge unhindered. This does not mean that students are forced to abandoned their nicely packaged beliefs, only that they must unwrap those packages and examine the contents. Why not have this unwrapping take place in every class at the university level? Keep in mind that I am referring to those beliefs and ideal that George brings up in her article – not just religious ones. I am talking a mass communication of questions and knowledge and theory – not only in the all-important composition classroom, where students may most freely and easily learn to question and communicate their thoughts, but also in the calculus classroom. Perhaps it is the cold medicine talking, but I passionately believe that, of all places, critical pedagogy should take place in the composition classroom. Let us bring them to the edge and leave them to find their own way out, let us tenderly bring up that which makes some uncomfortable and allow it to air, let us drop in values or theories that we may not hold ourselves, only to make them inspect their own thoughts. Am I too bold in saying that this is a university, a place for knowledge and theory, and if that is not what they are here for, then perhaps they should not be here?

Webber’s annotated bibliography covers the theory that student writing outside of the classroom is the forum which most reflects their voice. I like how this annotated bibliography sets a tone of confidence in the students and their writing abilities. Like Webber, I was also reminded of the blogging aspect of the composition classroom. I feel as though my students often demonstrate more exemplary writing skills in their blogs than in the essays and other writing samples that they give to me. Additionally, though I do not at the moment recall which pedagogy book/article I am thinking about, there was one in particular this weekend that made me think about how students find their voice. I see a link between that reading and this article in the theory that students must be opened to many ways of thinking in order for them to more fully discover their voice. In that reading their were several suggestions for expanding the minds of students, which helping them seek out their own voice, and develop a passion for their writing.

I am concerned that some of my students think that some of the assignments in class are “busy work.” I feel as though this relates to M.Hendry’s concern over her student’s lack of interest in the classroom; though, in her blog, she expresses more concern over the students who feel as though they do not want to even take part in the class. In my case, I am more concerned about a revolt taking place someday. I have nightmares-- me, in the middle of twenty-two angry students, yelling, “No, wait, it IS important! Really, we are LEARNING something! HONEST, there is a point to all this!” Though I feel my students respect me, and would do what I tell them, I still think that it is nearly impossible to force a student to see things my way if they are set against it. However, it is only nearly impossible, not impossible. Therefore, I believe that with more experience, more pedagogy reading, and more assertion, I may find the secret to opening my students minds and pouring my “point” into their brains, causing them to exclaim with joy, “Oh, Ms. Kinsley, what a great lesson idea, I am learning so much, and seeing all these connections, and now I am going to go write and write and write beautiful, beautiful essays!”

Part of me dissuades me from admitting it, but I enjoy reading essays about pedagogy. Oh dear. It is true though, as dense as the reading can be (especially when the author seems to be name dropping all over the page, causing stumbles trying to record name after name in my little brain), it is also usually filled with points that cause me to pause and write down new lesson ideas. While I enjoyed Covino’s historical analysis of rhetorical pedagogies, it was the section on Twentieth Century Rhetoric, which made my pen go mad with notes, lines, arrows, circles, and stars. Though the reading is no longer fresh in my mind, it appears that what struck me most were the theories regarding compositional purpose of communicating among and beyond varieties of social groups. This seems to occur at several different levels. First, perhaps, the writer must communicate within themselves in order to structure their writing around what they know to be idealistic constructions, and the actual experience (47). The writer must also communicate to their reader, which may be different than a larger audience; as a larger audience may be different than a single reader. However, communicating to one’s reader or audience should not take away from what the writer strives to say. This, I think, is something I can already see my students wrestling. Many of them are trying to figure out what I, their professor, want. I hope that I can sufficiently impress upon them that this is not at all what their goal should be. Finally, the writer and the reader interact in (perhaps constantly) changing circumstances (48). This leads into cultural studies, and the delicate web on which a vast variety of groups dance, constructing their own purposes. I feel as though Covino’s essay answers his own concluding question in that “a rich conception of rhetorical pedagogy” (49) would not only be sustained at the academic level, it could assist the many, diverse students in deconstructing the sometimes convoluted theories of writing.

On another note-- one that deals with my own inexperience-- I am uncertain about my comments on student papers. How nice should I be? I find that I am writing mostly negative comments. However, being a person often classified as “nice,” this seems like a problem. I feel forced to find something positive about every essay and adding that to the negative comments. Is that the correct way to go about this? What will happen when I cannot find anything good to say to a student?