Monday, September 22, 2008

New Thoughts on Writing in School

So, I am rethinking my position on school writing a bit because of my experience this past summer helping someone get ready to take the GRE General Test. In a conversation with a friend, I brought this up, and her reply was, “What’s the GRE?” I thought that was a wonderful response. For those aware of it, the GRE becomes an overwhelming and all-encompassing part of life. For the rest of the world, it is quite irrelevant. I hadn’t really thought of it since taking it about 23 years ago.

So, for some definition. The Graduate Record Examinations are a set of standardized tests. Universities and some fellowships use the scores on this test in their process of deciding whether someone is ready for graduate school or for a research position. The test is for those trying to get into grad school what the SAT is for high school juniors and seniors. The current version includes tests of verbal and quantitative reasoning, but also of argumentative and analytical writing. The two writing segments are timed, vague, and, from the points of view of most writers, ridiculous. The test offers a claim and writers have to present their perspective on the issue implicit in the claim. Here’s an example: “Important truths begin as outrageous, or at least uncomfortable, attacks upon the accepted wisdom of the time.” The writer gets 45 minutes to agree or disagree or restate.

As we got ready for the test, we practiced. I practiced so that I had a better sense of what the demands were. Practice involved looking at a prompt, clicking on a stop watch, and going through an intentional process (I actually drew my approach in my journal). I found these sessions to be so unappealing that I had to schedule them and tell my wife when I was going to do them. If someone else were not asking me about this work, I would have avoided it. I found myself wondering, “Is this how students feel when they confront one of my writing assignments?” I knew how to make a response, even had confidence that I could draft a strong response. I just dreaded spending the 45 minutes that it would take.

Here’s what has me rethinking the impromptu, though. In a couple of instances, the act of writing under pressure actually led me to interesting, innovative thinking. I found myself wishing that I had more time when the clock hit 45 minutes because I had found an approach worth pursuing.

So does this mean that school writing, even timed, impromptu writing can actually lead people to think more completely? Scary.