There is more to academic writing than mere writing

Writing in academic contexts requires a special skill on the part of the writer. Formal style requirements for the communication of ideas should be carefully respected if a paper is to be shared in a discourse community. The American Psychological Association (APA) manual is one of the various resources scholars can consult when it comes to writing according to set standards. The purpose of this paper is to analyze an article published by Myles (2002) and decide to what extent it meets the style and format requirements established by the 5^th edition of the APA manual.

The first aspect to be analyzed in this paper is the crediting of sources. The APA manual (2010) provides “the ground rules for acknowledging how others contributed to [the writer’s] work” (p.169). Direct quotations which take less than 40 words, for example, must be included in the text with double quotation marks; whereas reference to the author, year and page number must be provided between brackets. In Myles’ (2002) article, these requirements are properly fulfilled when he credits other authors’ words: “A two-way interaction between continuously developing knowledge and continuously developing text” (Bereiter & Scardamalia, 1987, p.12) (as cited in Myles, 2002, Introduction section, ¶1) and “The L1 can have a direct effect on interlanguage development by influencing the hypotheses that learners construct” (Ellis, 1994, p.342) (as cited in Myles, 2002, Cognitive Factors section, ¶8).

Another aspect to be considered when quoting in academic writing is that scholars should be faithful to the author’s original words. According to the APA manual (2001), writers should “Use three spaced ellipsis points (. . .) within a sentence to indicate that [they] have omitted material from the original source” (p. 119). Similarly, when information which is not in the source text is inserted in the quotation, it must be duly acknowledged by means of square brackets. Rules governing the omission or insertion of words/letters are also followed in Myles (2002) article: “students’ strategic knowledge and the ability of students to transform information . . . to meet rhetorically constrained purposes” (as cited in Myles, 2002, Models of L1 and L2 Writing section, ¶3).

Finally, writers should be careful with the use of reporting verbs and introductory phrases. Instead of everyday non-academic words, scientific writing is characterized by the systematic manipulation of rich vocabulary. Reporting verbs like say should be avoided in favour of more formal synonyms such as argue, reveal, and so on. The following examples are but some of the many instances in which Myles (2002) shows skill and conscious use of language:

“Wells (2000) argues that writing approached writing approached in this way is also an opportunity for knowledge building” (Implications for Teaching: Proficiency, Instruction and Response to Error, ¶11).

“Cunning also points out the benefits of cognitive modeling in writing instruction” (Implications for Teaching: Proficiency, Instruction and Response to Error, ¶12).

In conclusion, there are many aspects to take into account when writing academic texts. They are meant to express and – what is more – to transform knowledge. Unless they are skillfully organized, academic texts may fail to produce the expected effects on their readers, all the scientific work carried out by the writer being reduced to light non-effective reading, and Myles (2002) seems to understand this very well.

References

Myles, J. (2002). Second language writing and research: The writing process and error analysis in student texts. TESEL-EJ, 6, (2). Queen’s University. Retrieved November 2010, from  http://www-writing.berkeley.edu/TESl-EJ/ej22/a1.html

Publication manual of the American Psychological Association (5^th Ed.). (2001). Washington, DC.

Publication manual of the American Psychological Association (6^th Ed.). (2010). Washington, DC.

You are not alone: Critical incidents and the sharing of experience

I was one of those many people who thought that expertise or vast knowledge in a given subject was enough for teaching it. Soon after I got my degree as a translator, I accepted a post as a teacher at a language school. It was not long before I realized there was something else to teaching that mere knowledge; I had to deal with uneasy situations, insecure children who cried in the middle of a test or anxious adults who felt easily frustrated. I had to come up with spontaneous sensible decisions in order not to make the situation worse. I felt at a loss. Not sure whether my reactions were appropriate, I wished somebody had written a book on “How to react in the classroom.”

There is no doubt knowledge is a key starting point to be a good teacher. However, there is the necessity to nurture professionals who “apart from being experts in their field, have the ability to observe the class, reflect on what they teach, come to new sensible decisions when problems arise in the classroom” (Tejada, 2000; as cited in Fernández González, Elórtegui Escartín & Medina Pérez, 2003, p.3). Critical incidents, a strategy in which teachers analyze typical classroom problems and offer strategic solutions to them, provide future or in-service teachers with insight into possible or safe courses of action available, based on other teachers’ previous experience and reflection.

It may be argued that novel situations can always arise, for which there is no previous experience to draw upon. However, a critical incident may function as a reflection tool, “a questioning element in sight of similar situations” (Fernández, 2001; as cited in Fernández González, Elórtegui Escartín & Medina Pérez, 2003 p.6); especially for inexperienced teachers who cannot apply heuristic methods to their practice. I agree with Fernández Gonzales et al (2003)  on that “Critical incidents do not replace classroom experience, but they provide the future teacher with professional resources obtained by means of reflection to avoid, as far as it is possible, impulsive reactions under the pressure of the classroom here and now”(p.8).

Critical incidents, then, come as the closest version of the “How to react in the classroom” book I was pleading for. Of course, there are not unique or perfect solutions. As Fernández Gonzales et al affirm “it is hard to find a critical incident analysis widely accepted by all those involved in it” (p.12); nonetheless, looking into other people’s experience and thorough analysis, makes you feel you are not alone in the profession of teaching, and that anything that happens to you now might have been experienced in the past or will be experienced in the future. The important thing is sharing.

Reference

Fernández, González, J., Elórtegui Escartín, N., & Medina Pérez, M. (2003). Los incidentes críticos en la formación y perfeccionamiento del profesorado de secundaria de ciencias de la naturaleza. Revista Universitaria de Formación de Profesorado, 17-001. Zaragoza. España: Universidad de Zaragoza. Retrieved December 2007, from

http://redalyc.uaemex.mx/redalyc/src/inicio/ArtPdfRed.jsp?iCve=27417107

An uneasy first time

The moment I stepped into the classroom, their faces turned to me. I had the feeling it was going to be a special day – and it was indeed. Something new for all of us: a group of four-year-old children who were about to take their first step in learning English, and my first time as a kindergarten teacher. I had accepted the job at a local language school because I felt it would be a new experience, different from everything I had done before, and I love challenges.

I knew working with children demanded long hours of planning. “Materials and activities” my methodology teacher would insist “have to be varied and appealing because children’s span of attention is short”; and I followed that rule to the letter. I had made a colorful puppet to introduce myself and ask children their names. It would take between ten and fifteen minutes according to my schedule. I also had some cardboard cutouts they should color with crayons, another ten minutes would pass; and a “goodbye” song to teach them before I left. I thought that was enough for a forty-minute lesson. Besides, children that age are restless, they all want to speak at the same time and some minutes are always lost as you try to restore order and silence.

So there I was, standing at the door. The twenty-five of them staring at me with a blank expression on their faces and a silence I thought would be over after I said the first word. But I was wrong. Soon after I sat on the floor, all of them were sitting around me, waiting patiently for instructions, quiet as a mouse; nothing to do with the noisy talkative kindergarten children I had read about in books, and I felt there was not much I could do but start the lesson right away. I took the puppet out of my bag and adjusted it onto my hand. The children’s eyes opened with curiosity, but they did not speak. So I – or the puppet – uttered the first word, “Hello!”. They all said “Hello!” in chorus. Then, silence. The puppet asked my name and I answered, so as to show them how to introduce themselves. The first activity started. I turned the puppet to a girl sitting next to me and asked “What’s your name?”, “I’m Anna” she said, self-confident and proud. The situation was repeated by the remaining twenty-four. Nobody hesitated, shouted or changed the pitch in their voice. They listened to the question, answered back, and remained silent again.

By that moment, I had begun to feel a little bit uneasy with the situation. Too much silence, I did not know whether they were bored or tired. What I did know was that children are spontaneous and honest when showing their feelings, and I could see they were not having a good time. I tried making a joke, they laughed and went back to silence. “Maybe, they’ll enjoy painting” I thought, and I drew on the cutouts. It was just the same, they worked in silence and finished at once. When I glimpsed at my watch, I could see that only fifteen minutes had gone by, though it looked like three hours to me!

I knew it was part of a teacher’s job to improvise when things turned rough, but I felt at a loss. I still had an ace up my sleeve, the song, but I was discouraged and a little bit sad. I was disappointed and I felt kindergarten was definitely not for me. Hoping against hope, I said “Let’s sing a song” and, to my surprise, they started to shout “Yes! A song! A song!”. They easily learnt the lyrics and the tune and we kept on singing and dancing till the end of the lesson. They looked happy and interested, but I still had a bad taste in my mouth. Had I known they liked music, I would have started with a “Hello” song. At that thought I realized, ironically, “Or do they like it because it says goodbye?”

Dictionary of Academic Terms

Dictionary of Academic Terms

The following definitions will be published by the Caece University Dictionary of Academic Terms 2010:

Academic Writing

In general terms, the phrase academic writing is used to refer to a specific kind of writing which occurs within specific academic contexts or communities and with specific purposes (Pintos and Crimi, 2010). Apart from context and purpose, the formal aspects of language and writing conventions are also defining characteristics of academic writing. As this definition implies, academic writing is not simple and it “requires conscious effort and much practice in composing, developing, and analyzing ideas” (Myles, 2002, abstract, ¶1).

It can be stated that academic writing takes place in contexts where knowledge is constantly generated. The purpose of academic texts is not the mere rendering of already available information but the creation of knowledge. As Pintos and Crimi (2010) state: “Academic writers develop from reading academic texts and from writing to call to action, introspect, create and make judgments” (p.9).

Currently, there is some discussion as regards what the focus of writing courses should be. Some researchers argue that format and style training is essential whereas others suggest that “both social and cognitive factors affect language learning” (Myles, 2002, ¶1) and that they should be taken into account when teaching academic writing.

Vignette

A vignette is a kind of personal narrative which describes a specific situation, shortly after it takes place (Pintos and Crimi, 2010). Events are recorded by an observer as they occur, and the resulting piece of writing is subject to later analysis or reflection.

Many definitions have been rendered to outline the concept of vignette. Miles (1990), for example, defines vignettes as a way of “providing a snapshot, or perhaps a mini-movie, of a professional practitioner at work” (as cited in Angelides, Panayiotis, Gibbs and Paul, 2006, p.2). On the other hand, Erickson (1986) suggests that a vignette is “a vivid portrayal of the conduct of an event of everyday life, in which the sights and sounds of what was being said and done are described” (as cited in Angelides et al., 2006, p.3). Despite subtle differences, they all agree on the fact that vignettes describe a situation in detail. 

According to Angelides et al (2006), “The process of discussing vignettes during staff meetings has a further advantage of helping teachers to develop as a team” (p.5). Currently, vignettes are highly used in education to record situations in class and reflect on the teacher or the students’ behavior. These practices foster cooperative work and professional development.

Reference

Angelides, Panayiotis, Gibbs, Paul (2006). “Supporting the Continued Professional Development of Teachers through the Use of Vignettes” - Teacher Education Quarterly.

Myles, J. (2002). Second Language writing and research: The writing process and error analysis in student texts. Retrieved September 2002, from http://writing.berkeley.edu/TESL-EJ/ej22/a1.html

Pintos, V., & Crimi Y., (2010) Unit 3: Academic writing. Retrieved September 2010, from http://caece.campusuniversidad.com.ar/file.php/54/EAP_UNIT_3_-_ACADEMIC_WRITING.pdf

Swales, a pioneer behind current theories of discourse communities

In their attempts to define discourse community, researches and theorists have provided a number of models, all of which share knowledge, social conventions and language practices as their common core. So far, one of the most influential approaches to a definition of discourse communities has been Swales’ (1990; cited in Pintos and Crimi, 2010) identification of certain basic criteria – such as common objectives, expertise, technical language and style conventionsto – to decide whether a group can be called as a discourse community. The purpose of this paper is to examine closely at those defining characteristics and provide evidence of a number of theories which seem to be based on them. In the following quotation, for instance, Kutz mentions most discourse community characteristics introduced by Swales’ (1990):

The community college can be seen as a discourse community: Its members have, over time, developed a common discourse that involves shared knowledge, common purposes, common relationships, similar attitudes and values, shared understandings about how to communicate their knowledge and achieve their shared purposes, and a flow of discourse that has a particular structure and style. (Kutz, 1997; as cited in Kelly-Kleese, 2001 p.1)

The first criterion introduced by Swales (1990) is that a group should hold common objectives and specific interests in order to be recognized as a discourse community. There is extensive evidence which supports this point. Hoffman-Kipp, Artiles and Torres (2003) consider teacher reflection as something else than an isolated practice, the authors note that “several discourse communities in teacher reflection have arisen.…They highlight how teacher reflection itself is mobilised in particular contexts, for particular political, pedagogical, and phenomenological purposes" (p.2).

Similarly, in her attempt to identify a two-year community college as an independent discourse community – included though in the larger scope of higher education – Kelly-Kleese (2004) explains that “the community college discourse community exists…apart from higher education discourse communities because community colleges have institutional missions that differ from those of universities and four-year colleges …”(p.2). It is a fact, then,  that common objectives or goals are at the core of a discourse community and that all discourse communities may pursue a specific objective.

Swales (1990) states that a discourse community is also defined by its ruling language and genre conventions. Groups establish their own lexicon and style to share ideas and viewpoints. “Communicative competence is described as what one must know in order to use language appropriately in particular discourse communities” (Kuts, 1997; as cited in Kelly-Kleese, 2004, p.4). Kelly-Kleese argues that reality is but the product of culturally shared language and discourse and “entities we normally call reality, knowledge, thoughts, facts, selves, and so on are constructs generated by communities of like-minded peers” (Bruffee, 1986; as cited in Kelly-Kleese, 2001, p.1).

As well as specialized terminology and specific genres, a discourse community uses participatory mechanisms as regards the communication of information and feedback. Kelly-Kleese (2004) notes that “Members of two-year college discourse communities share understandings about how to communicate knowledge” (p.2). Furthermore, one of the main arguments to define a college community, as different from high education, is its spoken language. Members of a community college do not write reports, but put what they know or learn straight into practice. “Their discourse is largely underground in that it flows within their specialized community; it most often takes the form of oral dialogue” (Kelly-Kleese, 2004). Some relationships of power and influence arise as a consequence of the nature of language. Written discourse such as papers and reports produced by university or high-education scholars is associated with academic discourse communities and hold a high status, whereas spoken language from two-year colleges is undervalued and considered non-academic. Members of two-year colleges discourse communities are regarded as mere readers and their access to higher education discourse communities is highly difficult, if not impossible.

Finally, Swales (1990) mentions expertise as one of the defining characteristics of a discourse community. The members of a community may have either a peripheral or central participation, depending on the degree of expertise they possess. “The sort of knowledge that is required in order to be accepted by the discourse community in scholarly writing is not usually acquired in the formal setting of a classroom” (Lave and Wenger, 1991; as cited in Pintos and Crimi , 2010).

Swales’ (1990) theory about discourse communities seems to be dealt with in all sources analysed. All authors recognise the necessity of common goals, specialised language, participatory mechanisms, specific genres, and expertise. Some theorists may focus more on one aspect than on others, but all of them are present in their work to some degree.

Reference

Hoffman-Kipp, P., Artiles, A. J., & Lopez Torres, L. (2003). Beyond reflection: teacher learning as praxis. Theory into practice. Retrieved October 2007, from http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0NQM/is_3_42/ai_108442653

Kelly-Kleese, C. (2001). Editor’s Choice: An Open Memo to Community College Faculty and Administrators. Community College Review. Retrieved October 2007, from http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0HCZ/is_1_29/ai_77481463

Kelly-Kleese, C. (2004). UCLA community college review: community college scholarship and discourse. Community College Review. Retrieved October 2007, from http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0HCZ/is_1_32/ai_n6361541

Wenzlaff, T.L., & Wiseman, K.C. (2004). Teachers Need Teachers To Grow. Teacher Education Quarterly. Retrieved October 2007, from http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa3960/is_200404/ai_9349405