Second Language Writers Coming Into Voice

As we learned from all three of these readings this week – as well as readings in the weeks prior – writing is both a social and a cultural activity. Thus, L2 writers – who inherently possess identities and voices in their L1 society and culture as writers – find themselves having to negotiate to find their voices in their L2. As writers in a non-native language, in a non-native culture, they must find their space as composers in their L2.

Ivanic and Camps speak of “voice types,” which refer to the many different ways in which a writer situates him/herself with ideas (ideational positioning), with him/herself and the audience (interpersonal positioning), and with the text he/she is composing (textual positioning). Ivanic and Camps go into great detail when analyzing the syntactical and lexiconic choices the six Mexican graduate students in their study make in their academic writing, as Ivanic and Camps assert that these linguistic choices carry positioning value in how writers construct voice. These students – as all L2 writers have to do to at least some extent – have to construct their identities as writers in their L2.

One of the positioning consequences of these students’ syntactical and lexiconic choices involves values regarding how knowledge is produced. Ivanic and Camps explain that writers demonstrate their beliefs about the production of knowledge in how they create space for knowledge, to whom they attribute knowledge, and how they make that attribution in their text. Writers will discuss knowledge in a way that hits somewhere on a continuum between knowledge as subjective and situated in local experience to knowledge as objective and universally true (18). Upon this continuum, composing choices may demonstrate knowledge as impersonal, or the writer may give agency through actively crediting those who participate in the creation of a certain knowledge. In addition, authors can recognize their own agency (however, as Ivanic and Camps admit, this choice risks the author appearing as asocial) (19). Ivanic and Camps use as an example an assignment by Germán, who variably positions himself within the same assignment; at one point, he gives attribution to the researcher he is crediting with knowledge, while at another he references himself as evaluator, and later he positions himself as constructor (20).

One interesting aspect of this article I’d like to touch on is that of appropriation. On page 24, the authors quote Evodia as saying that she will give her instructors what they want; she will create texts as they tell her to do. However, when she gets a chance to express herself, she will take it. Ivanic and Camps discuss this as a reticence to taking authority in her writing. I can truly see how this is an issue of power with an L2 writer, but I can also position L1 composition students in this same situation, especially when the audience is an academic or instructor whom we think or assume knows more than we do. Admittedly, though, it is more complex for an L2 writer to create authorial presence than an L1 writer. Thus, when earlier in the article Yamile is – as Ivanic and Camps put it – “positioned by the discourse,” absorbing “the way” in which her voice should sound in her writing, she is perhaps being appropriated by those she’s attempting to imitate – or please.

Ivanic and Camps state that “’identity’ is typically not unitary but multiple, and hence texts are often polyphonic, or many-voiced” (30). I would go so far as to say that they are then also intertextual, as our voices as writers are complex amalgams of everything we’ve previously written or read. Thus, reading academic articles in an L2 is a common technique L2 writers employ when attempting to create their voice or identity in the discourse of their L2. What I love about the article by Hirvela and Belcher is that they use the term “architecture of voice” to describe the dimensions of a writer’s composing self. The terminology echoes the concept that a writer’s many voices are constructed through the interplay of culture, discourse, genre, self-representation, and other factors. Hirvela and Belcer remind us that L2 writers are not voiceless; they possess a set of L1 voices, and usually are very successful, confident writers in their L1. They already have the experience of “being,” of positioning themselves as an author within a rhetorical situation, and we cannot forget these writers’ “life histories,” as Ivanic calls them (Hirvela and Belcher 89). They are multilingual writers already owning at least one writerly voice, and an academic voice in their L2 (in this case, English) can simply be an extension of their existing writerly selves. Thus, as Hirvela and Belcher wish L2 composition teachers to view this as a process rather than a product, they invoke Cummins’ idea of “voicing”:  the activity of engaging with their L2 academic community in their discourse field.

The three case studies in Hirvela and Belcher’s article remind me of my “writing buddy.” As Hirvela and Belcher note (citing Peter Elbow), “’we do no favor to L2 students who want to prosper in an individualistic culture’ by denying them the opportunity to acquire those elements of ‘academese,” which lead to success as writers within that culture and which they actively seek” (Elbow qtd. in Hirvela and Belcher 98). As my writing buddy wants to be a successful academic writer in his L2 (English), he will need to construct part of his identity to accommodate those elements into his voice toolbox– to come into his own voice in his L2 writing. Thus by reading about the voicing process (as expounded upon in the three articles we read this week), perhaps I can help guide my writing buddy toward developing his own identity as a scientific writer in English. However, I have to be careful in generalizing too much, as Hirvela and Belcher remind us that “it is difficult to generalize about NNS university students with respect to voice when they bring such widely varying backgrounds to the voice equation” (104). So, in applying this week’s concepts on voice to my own project, I will begin this week diving deeper into my writing buddy’s background: his L1 voices, including his strengths and weaknesses composing in his L1.

In Shen’s article, I appreciated that he dove so deeply into the history of Chinese composition (he references to a time two-thousand years ago). And, I especially like his conclusion at then end, that when he composes in English he feels as if he is “slipping into a new ‘skin’” (132). His explanation of why Chinese writers write the way they do (generally, although we have to be careful that we don’t generalize too much) is helpful, as it causes me to wonder how my writing buddy’s L1 composition might have similarly entrenched roots calling for a varied rhetorical form.

(L2) Writing Assessment: Tools and Issues

(L2)  Writing Assessment: Tools and Issues

Hyland’s Second Language Writing and Casanave’s Controversies in Second Language Writing both speak on assessing L2 writing; however, it is Casanave’s text that strongly asserts that L2 writing assessment can be inherently problematic.  However, as Ken Hyland states in the introduction of Chapter 8, his chapter is primarily addressing “practical issues that teachers face when making decisions about evaluating written work” (212). On the other hand, Casanave’s chapter concerns assessing L2 writing accurately and fairly. While both texts involve practical and theoretical issues, Hyland’s is more practical while Casanave’s proves to be more challenging (and, indeed, I had to read it twice to comprehend these important challenges to mainstream/traditional writing assessment strategies, especially regarding accuracy and ethics).

Hyland’s chapter in SLW introduces and defines “formative” and “summative” writing assessments, but Hyland fails to connect those two terms with the reasons he lists for evaluating learners as well as the writing assessment tools he introduces in the chapter. And, while he mentions them with a bit more detail in the genre text, he doesn't explicitly delineate formative and summative types of assessment during his discussion here, either.  (He does come close, however, when listing the key principles of genre-based assessment. "Diagnostic testing," to me, would be classified as a formative assessment) (167). 

Like Casanave’s chapter, Hyland’s chapters on assessment define and explain the terms “reliability” and “validity.” I know that these two terms would always confuse me as an undergraduate minoring in Psychology and majoring in Education (I had exposure to these two terms in two fields!); however, I think Hyland wins for thoroughness of definition this week. I found myself writing a note next to “reliability” (pg 215, SLW), “HOW CONSISTENTLY writing is assessed” and another next to “validity” (pg. 217, SLW), “the ACCURACY of the assessment.” While Hyland and Casanave both speak about how to increase reliability by making assessments “rater-proof” (improving inter-rater reliability), both come to the conclusion that indirect assessments (multiple choice exams, closet tests, fill-in-the-blank exams), are rarely better writing assessment tools than indirect ones. Hyland states that “It is widely agreed … that direct measures are actually no less ‘objective’ than indirect ones for the reason that test design itself is not an exact science” (217 SLW). Casanave takes a more in-depth look at the issues with indirect assessment and posits that such “quantification” of writing needs to be abandoned in lieu of more accurate assessment tools. She states, “What matters most in fair writing assessment are the very local and diverse practices that supporters of traditional ‘objective’ assessment wish to downplay or to erase through mathematical juggling” (123). In other words, such a scientific mode of writing assessment will not work for such a subjective field such as writing. And Casanave even introduces the Elbow’s concept of “liking” a work, a term that could not be any more subjective (128).

Hyland – whose chapters, again, are more practical this week than Casanave’s – spends much time discussing how to reliably and accurately score writing. In the SLW text, he discusses the positives and negatives of holistic scoring, analytic scoring, and trait-based scoring, and he gives examples of what scoring sheets for these modes would look like. He also discusses portfolio assessments in depth, their strengths and weaknesses, and which scoring method “fits” best with portfolios. The use of portfolios in is a response to the timed-writing tests which are not only hard to score but don’t offer much validity when assessing how well a student can convey his or her ideas. A portfolio offers numerous examples, the products of which were developed (written, informally or formally evaluated, and revised) over time (lending to a process-writing model). To transfer to a genre-based writing model, the portfolio could simply have products exemplifying several different genre, demonstrating mastery of more than just one genre.

Casanave’s writing project, however, is now more intriguing to me than a portfolio.  She made these projects meaningful to her L2 students by asking the students to focus on what they needed to learn or know how to do – and then they researched and wrote on that. The genres used varied, as Casanave stated, depending on the desired outcome of the project.

Casanave also addresses the issue of authenticity of students’ writing (real-world writing versus writing in the classroom for the teacher) as well as the conflict of teacher as guide to the student writer as well as evaluator of student writing. Casanave states that “Within their own classrooms, however, writing teachers are inevitably caught in the dilemma of being both supportive nonjudgmental readers and critical evaluators who ultimately must assign a grade to student performance. These roles conflict. Students know they will receive grades, even if individual papers are not marked, and so tend to write for grades rather than to develop their writing” (136). The writing project idea that Casanave offers in this chapter not only addresses the need for authenticity (by allowing the students to develop their writing around what they need to learn or know) but also diminishes the need for constant teacher evaluation for grades of the students’ writing. As Casanave asserts, writing projects allow for the conjoined concept of assessment and instruction while also reducing the focus of grades and scores.

Hyland's genre chapter -- which I read last -- is what I was missing in terms of assessment. Hyland's last paragraph in the chapter simply states his point, that "teaching writing using genre approaches emphasizes the importance of making known what is to be learned and assessed" (192). Earlier in the chapter, Hyland stresses that a genre-based approach to writing (and, consequently, to assessment) helps ensure that teachers are thoughtful about what needs to be taught; students are aware of what will be assessed; and that teachers will have greater success with assessment validity.

I personally liked Hyland's genre text's description of systemic functional writing assessments. Perhaps it is because I'd LIKE to be able to take a more objective approach to assessment than what the subject of writing will easily lend (as we've discussed, writing assessment is problematic in that it is so outside of objective limits). As Hyland puts it, "...this model offers a clear picture of what counts as evidence fo fulfilling basic genre requirements" (172).

One thing I noticed with these chapters is how often I forgot I was reading about assessing L2 writing. Writing assessment here seems a bit blurred, with assessment tools, strategies, and issues applying to both writing by L1 and L2 writers. One area Casanave delineates as specifically L2 related is in ethics of assessment. Both authors discuss how timed-writing assessments are also problematic for L2 learners, but I would posit that these timed-writing assessments are almost as problematic for L1 learners as well. At any rate, this blurring between applicability to both L1 and L2 learners just further demonstrates how much SLW teachers, TESOL instructors, and L1 compositionists need to work together in discovering/defining theory and then applying that theory to pedagogical practices.

Conclusion: "Further Research Is Necessary"

Conclusion: “Further Research Is Necessary”

I think this statement – “Further research is necessary” – about sums up this week’s readings (Ferris 60). Ferris’ 2004 article is probably one of the more plainly-written scholarly articles I’ve read in a while. And, it’s important that it is clear, because Ferris’ audience includes writing teachers as well as researchers, and his topic is one he feels is terribly important.

To connect myself with this week’s readings I have again recalled how I as a writing teacher behaved. This week, I remembered grading sixty high school senior research papers over my spring breaks. My method was one I composed to serve my own purposes. First, I would read through the research paper and mark punctuation and grammatical errors. These are the things that are quite distracting to me, and if I marked them the first time through, then during subsequent readings I could ignore the mistakes a bit better (knowing I’d already done my duty by marking them) and focus on content and larger aspects of form. I used a rubric that I had shared with the students ahead of time, and I would make a ton of in-text comments.

As this research paper was often the end-piece of the year for these Seniors, I was always disheartened in a way that their writing wasn’t “perfect.” They still made mechanics errors. They still failed to use enough transitions to keep the writing coherent. I’d finish reading a paper and wonder, “What is the argument?” These are all issues I had “marked” on papers throughout the year. And I had marked them on rough drafts of this very assignment. More often than not, the writing did not improve substantially.

But, there were a few things that stuck. And I think this is where I agree with Ferris that the issue of whether (and how) or not to mark L2 student papers is one that is in its infancy. I loved Ferris as a researcher in this article. Unlike other researchers who do everything they can to make an argument (disregarding research, or highlighting bad research, or making faulty arguments), Ferris refuses to come to a definitive answer on the question of the serially-published debate. However, he clearly defines the type of research and that needs to be done to determine how exactly L2 student writing is affected by teachers marking grammatical errors. As he posits, “Unless they [researchers] are already sure that error feedback does not help students and may in fact harm them, it feels unethical to withhold it from their students simply for research purposes” (2004, pg. 60).

Instead, Ferris states that in the meantime (while the researchers are conducting more and better research), L2 writing teachers need to continue responding to student writing and “rely on research evidence that does exist, our own experience and intuitions, and the desires of our students to inform and guide us, but at the same time remain humble and avoid rigidity, knowing that, as a research and teaching community, we are still shaping the knowledge and discourse of our discipline” (2004, pg. 59). In the article he wrote for Writing Myths, Ferris admits that – as a teacher – he himself was frustrated spending so much time marking errors in student writing just to have the students make the same errors again (and become stressed) (93).  However, he also acknowledges that some research suggests the potential of positive outcome from teachers marking students’ writing mistakes. One of the “’real-world’ truths” that he discusses is that L2 writers’ texts have a different style and sound from those of native English speakers, even if they are virtually no major errors to mark. This made me consider the NNES student with whom I’m working this semester. His spoken English is good, and his written English is not poor, either. But, there is some awkwardness; English is definitely not his native language. As Ferris states, “…even L2 texts that are ‘error free’ may appear less sophisticated or less idiomatic when compared with native English writers and may be easily identified by readers as being non-native” (93).  Ferris provides several good ideas I can share with my student, such as take time to write, learn self-editing strategies, and search out another pair of eyes.

Hyland’s chapter expands on this idea of marking errors in student papers to a general response to student writing. He includes examples of all types of responses (written, verbal, peer). Hyland cites some of the same concerns Ferris does, but he also provides many practical strategies for L2 writing instruction. One concept that is new to me in theory (although I recognize that I have considered it intuitively) is that of appropriation. Hyland explains that often teachers make so many suggestions to students about their texts that the text then becomes the teacher’s instead of the student’s. Hyland brings in cultural considerations to this chapter as well, and acknowledges that certain cultures view teachers as authority figures who are not to be argued with. Thus, these students and others may incorporate teachers’ suggestions without considering maintenance of the voice of the student. As a writing teacher it is easy to make suggestions for rewording, or inclusion of different content, etc. and forget that the writing is not the teacher’s –it is the student’s.

While I loved some of Hyland’s examples (the Peer Review Introduction Sheet on page 202 was potentially helpful), I found other examples problematic, in that they appear to be continued teacher control veiled as peer review. For example, Hyland suggests that, in order to raise students’ self-awareness, students can watch videos and examine transcripts of other peer reviews.  A question I have with this is, in showing examples of peer reviews, is the teacher controlling the peer review process to the point that it is inauthentic?