Writing prof sees student mistakes as opportunity
Professor Jon Olson, Director of the Center for Excellence in Writing at Penn State, knows that instructors sometimes dread responding to student writing, in part because they’ll have to deal with student error.
Olson, who recently visited Texas A&M to present a talk on “Error and Improvisation,” wants teachers to rethink how they view errors made by their student writers.
“The problem with errors is they come between a writer and the writer’s audience. They divide us,” Olson observes.
Dr. Jon Olson.
“The problem with errors is they come between a writer and the writer’s audience. They divide us,” Olson observes.
Olson hears from many faculty members who believe today’s students just can’t write.
“What
they’re often referring to are surface errors,” Olson explains.
“Students usually can write, but they have these infelicities that just
bug us.”
For Olson a key question is, “How can we get past these sometimes relatively minor glitches that make us lose our attention?”
One important aspect to understanding student errors, Olson contends,
is recognizing their source. He explains one significant, but often
overlooked, cause of student error: unfamiliar or difficult subject
matter. He points to research showing that students entering law school
who were strong writers as undergraduates often found their writing
unraveling as they grappled with new, complex subject matter.
“If the content is really challenging, you can’t pay attention to sentences,” Olson says.
That’s also why he believes that “errors hold possibilities.”
Instructors need to remember that making errors is an inevitable, even
useful part of learning. When students are penalized for surface
errors, though, that learning may be impeded.
“My pet peeve,” Olson says, “is the professor who proclaims
proudly that after the third grammatical error, he stops reading. What
does that say about what that professor cares about? He apparently
doesn’t care about any content. He doesn’t care about what the student
has to say.”
Olson argues for a more tolerant approach toward error, one
that appreciates the truly hard work of writing. That’s one reason why
Olson completes his own assignments, noting, “If I don’t want to write
them, why should students?”
He also reassures instructors that they needn’t worry if
they’re not totally comfortable with their own writing and knowledge of
grammar.
“Don’t try to be an English teacher,” Olson warns, noting that
instructors should find their own ways of responding to student work,
perhaps commenting only on “one or two concerns of the highest order.”
That’s easier to do, Olson says, if instructors divide assignments into
several iterations, allowing them to address different concerns at
different stages of the composition process.
Olson sees great value to a writing-in-the-disciplines program
like the one implemented at Texas A&M, which gives students an
opportunity to learn about writing from a practitioner in their own
field.
“The value of a professor who pays attention to writing
in a discipline other than English is that it shows students that
writing belongs to everybody,” he says. “It’s not just the property of
an English department.”
“For so many students, writing is a source of embarrassment,” Olson
concludes. “It’s an occasion for failure.” He believes instructors can
ease some of the burden on students by acknowledging their own
struggles as writers. Olson is learning to be more open with students
about his own difficulties with the writing process, even acknowledging
a recent case of writer’s block during which, he’s quick to admit, “I
hated writing.”
That’s the kind of sentiment Olson shares with his students in an
effort to reassure them that writing is always a struggle
