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  • March 2003 blog archive

    Archives: March 2003 [source]

    Mon Mar 31, 2003

    Never having spoken in public

    I’ve been looking at the first entries of various new and long-standing weblogs, some attached to college courses and some enjoying the natural liberty of the form. There are interesting things to notice about the rhetoric of first entries, the relative sophistication of some writers, the narrow range of argumentative strategies some writers rely on as they begin.

    But with students whose weblogs are set up for an audience wider than the class I notice that some of the writers sound as though they have never had a public voice before. We may be raising a generation of individuals who, never having spoken in public, have little sense of what it means to sound like a citizen.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 31, 2003 | 2:05 pm

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    Sun Mar 30, 2003

    Essays and weblogs

    Some of the things writers say about essays remind me of the traits of weblogs; some of the things writers say about weblogs remind me of the traits of essays. I’ll gather some quotations here to start to explore that. Maybe others will come to your mind, too?

    Edward Hoagland, from his introduction to the 1999 edition of The Best American Essays:

    Like you, an essayist struggles with the here and now, the world we have, with sore and smelly feet and humiliation, a freethinker but not especially rich or pretty, and quite earthbound, though at his post. (xix)

    And the form of composition Montaigne gave a name to would not have lasted so long if it were not succinct, diverse, and supple, able to welcome ideas that are ahead of or behind the blurring spokes of their own time….[The essaysist] is an advocate for civilization…. Working in the present tense, with common sense as his currency, “This is what I think,” he tells the rest of us. (xiv-xv)

    [Essayists] are not nihilists as a rule. They look for context. They feel out traction. They have a stake in society’s survival, breaking into the plot line of an anecdote to register a reservation about somebody’s behavior, for instance, in a manner most fiction writers would eschew, because an essayist’s opinions are central, part of the very protein that he gives us…. He has the job of finding coherence in the world. (xvii)

    Theodor Adorno, from “The Essay as Form,” in Volume 1 of Notes to Literature:

    [The] essay’s innermost formal law is heresy. Through violations of the orthodoxy of thought, something in the object becomes visible which it is orthodoxy’s secret and objective aim to keep invisible. (23)

    Here is another translation of that:

    The law of the innermost form of the essay is heresy. By transgressing the orthodoxy of thought, something becomes visible in the object which it is orthodoxy’s secret purpose to keep invisible. (171)

    On the other hand, there are the feeble imitations of the real thing. Austrian writer Karl Kraus said that certain would-be essayists were merely “baking bread from bread crumbs.” I like Kraus’s provocation there. No doubt there’s more to think and say about the weaknesses of both genres.

    And we’ll have to talk about gender someday, too.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 30, 2003 | 5:56 pm

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    Sat Mar 29, 2003

    Note-taking and revision

    I’ve learned in the last week that I may have made a mistake as I chose among the optional features for this site. In particular, the site owner can choose between letting registered users compose in a small, stripped-down submission box, as I’ve done at the bottom of this site’s main page, or letting them compose at the larger, full-featured control panel located on its own web page. The stripped-down submission box works very well — my students have posted over 650 messages and comments on a class site since late January, with hardly a glitch. And when I am ready to comment on their small or large assignments, there they are, neatly arranged in the category listing by assignment. Very nice.

    But students are using the software more as a bulletin board and forum, rather than as a full-blown weblog. In my own work on the site you are reading, though, I have in the last few days starting using some of the control panel features as an aid to note-taking, composing, and revising. I’ll want students to have the more powerful tools available to them when I assign full weblogs next semester.

    I see from the ways I’ve been able to take advantage of the control panel’s features that I have been depriving users of the option of delaying the posting of a message. On pm achine, at the control panel, a writer can designate a post as Open, which makes it available for readers, or Closed, which holds it safely in the data base until the writer chooses to make it available. This option invites the writer to start a new message, take notes, assemble links to other web sites, sketch a draft, revise, and proofread, over the course of hours or days or even weeks, before opening the post to the audience. After I noticed this liberating feature of the software, I can modestly report that it only took me a few days to realize that I could and should have several closed messages stewing and developing, not just one, and so I do. I started this message two days ago with a couple of sentences; there are three others in developm ent right now, and the longer messages this week were written this way, too.

    I know that a strength of weblogs is that they are often written on the run, but that is a weakness, too. I’m glad the software invites me, helps me, to write quickly as well as to write deliberately. I’ll probably reformat this site to allow other participants to use the control panel as soon as I can.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 29, 2003 | 5:50 pm

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    Dipping into the debate

    Since it’s 2003 rather than, say 1999, by now we can read the archived statements and the debates between some of the ground-breaking bloggers and web creators about the several possible natures of weblogging. It’s easy to find statements of optimism or high ideal. See founder Tim Berners-Lee’s vision of “Interactive Creativity…which means building things together on the Web,” for example. See also, though, his realism about the barriers to the ideals. #

    Or more recently, in a series of comments about whether lawyers can afford to make public statements in blogs, writer Fred of Bureaucrat By Day says:

    In the end, each of us must make an individual judgment about the how much of a public face we’re willing to make. For a private attorney, without certain speech restrictions, I would advocate going to the mat: blogs are the essence of participatory democracy; the new broadsheets. If you can’t speak your mind here, you’ll never do it. #

    The tensions between real and ideal were part of the blogging conversation quite early. In her September 7, 2000 essay, “weblogs: a history and perspective,” Rebecca Blood drew on the work of Greg Ruggerio to link the challenges bloggers face to a fundamental trait of big corporate media:

    But this type of [web-editing, web-filtering] weblog is important for another reason, I think. In Douglas Rushkoff’s Media Virus, Greg Ruggerio of the Immediast Underground is quoted as saying, “Media is a corporate possession…You cannot participate in the media. Bringing that into the foreground is the first step. The second step is to define the difference between public and audience. An audience is passive; a public is participatory. We need a definition of media that is public in its orientation.” #

    Educators who have looked into the work of Paulo Freire recognize the problem well. In The Pedagogy of the Oppressed, in a chapter called “The Banking Concept of Education,” he argues that many teachers simply narrate to their listening students, attempting to “fill” them with alienated and alienating knowledge. Freire’s alternative to filling up students as if they were a savings bank is “problem-posing education.”

    For apart from inquiry, apart from praxis, men cannot be truly human. Knowledge emerges only through invention and reinvention, through the restless, impatient, continuing, hopeful inquiry men pursue in the world, with the world, with each other.

    Similar in spirit to Ruggerio, Freire says that education should be a “practice of freedom” rather than a series of “transfers of information.”

    Several tensions come to mind immediately, though, for teachers and students using weblogs. We bring to weblog assignments the traditional forms of authority in the classroom and in the academic field. We are charged with passing on a tradition to our students, and with evaluating their work. Many of our students may be very comfortable in the often relatively passive roles of American student and American consumer. We may be more comfortable with students in passive roles than we know or like to admit. Is there really room for the feisty rhetoric of the political blog in most American classrooms? Will the distinctly un-academic models provided by some prominent bloggers help academics think about changing our ways?

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 29, 2003 | 1:40 am

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    Thu Mar 27, 2003

    On the evening news

    Today, when I came home from work, I found in this week’s New Yorker a Talk of the Town piece on what may be the only blog being written by a native and resident of war-disrupted Iraq. And Dan Rather closed the evening news with a segment on warblogs and offered millions of Americans links to many of them on the network’s web site. Earlier today I ran across a March 19 notice that the Heritage Foundation was soliciting prominent bloggers to open their email to H. F. press releases. # How about that?

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 27, 2003 | 11:29 pm

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    I edit the Net

    The title comes from the footer on a July, 4, 1999 message from Jorn Barger about creating the comprehensive one-layer web reference pages that he calls portals. # On his own web site a few months later he made this prediction:

    I expect that in a few years, many schools will have discovered that building such synoptic sites is an ideal class activity, so every topic will be covered by dozens or hundreds of different, well-maintained sites. #

    I agree that the task of gathering, sorting, evaluating, and presenting the web resources on a topic is a promising assignment. He calls for a serious commitment to the needs of readers, saying that the links should go to the content pages themselves, rather than to the entry points of their web sites. He says a portal should be “ONE page that links directly to every relevant webpage, bypassing all the navigation trees inbetween” — an ambitious project calling for thoroughness, judgment, and organization. His portals are wonders of compression, aided by a clear, thoughtful vocabulary of categories that quickly show a reader the kinds of broad editorial judgments that have been made.

    He offers two versions of his James Joyce site to clarify the concept of portal:

    [1] Old unabridged Joyce-links page:
    http://www.robotwisdom.com/jaj/jajweb.html
    [2] New-style one-layer Joyce ‘portal’:

    http://www.robotwisdom.com/jaj/portal.html

    While I imagine that a teacher might lead a group of students to create something less severe than the Joyce portal, something less reserved about revealing the editor’s particular judgments of the contents, the portal still shows much more shaping of the content than the older version and implies a knowledge of the history of the topic that would be a substantial accomplishment in many classes. While teachers may come to assign students to create portals based on Barger’s model, a cross between the portal and a more traditional annotated bibliography might be as useful for the students who create the site and readers who later use it.

    He might agree, judging by his later plan for another generation of reference pages:

    Gradually, though, I’ve grown dissatisfied with the extreme degree of compression here, because it locks out some newcomers, so I’m planning another generation that moves back a step or two towards the original ‘overview’ model. #

    Writing the annotations and then grouping the sources into a coherent set of categories would take students far into their field, I think. In fact, the task reminds me of the kinds of questions one has to answer in a comprehensive exam for a M. A. degree, say — where you have to be able to tell the story of your subject over its history and also orient yourself to the particulars at key moments of that history. The broad pattern and its particulars, each known in light of the other.

    Seen this way, editing the Net is a high level task. Seen this way, writing a weblog becomes a serious form of inquiry, with substantial obligations to readers and to the scholars who have gone before. Those obligations imply a respect for others — for tomorrow’s reader, for yesterday’s writer — that requires commitment.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 27, 2003 | 12:28 am

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    Wed Mar 26, 2003

    What I marked in the text

    I thought I would try a different sort of entry today. I read much of Biz Stone’s book, Blogging, recently, and now I’ve gone back to take a second look at some of the passages I marked on the first reading. I’ll enter a few here, perhaps with a comment or two.

    Blogs are wellsprings of experience, personality, and tacit knowledge. (165)

    That reminds me of the personal essay, a genre I admire. Good essays get their authority from the inquiring mind of the writer rather than from a professional certification or academic perspective. There’s a better chance for knowledge to remain open and widely dispersed if some of the knowledge-workers are working the ways essayists work.

    [Blogs are an] automated method of independent publishing. (3)

    The independence suits the essayistic writer well.

    The blog is very much a writer’s medium…usually made up of brief, frequently updated posts that are arranged chronologically….a blog usually takes on the character of the person or persons that contribute to it because it is so simple to update. This ease of use leads to frequent posting, which creates a fluid, ongoing “conversation” with an audience that helps to bring out the nature of the person “behind the screen.” (9)

    But the essayistic writer thrives on a rich relationship with an audience, with the wider world, one way or another.

    Blogs feed off the web, digest it, recycle it, and infuse it with new life. Created by feisty, intelligent, opinionated, subversive people — sometimes small groups — blogs are the future of personal publishing. (10)

    Again, I like the active relationship to the web and other texts, to knowledge, and to community here.

    It’s not so much the content that makes a blog a blog — it’s the structure. (160)

    It’s a way of regularly getting to work in language — what could be better?

    Blogs contain links…the classic blog format is very simple: links with attached commentary. the original bloggers were like self-appointed editors of the web. (195)

    For this reason, good weblogs are dynamic and critical.

    Template management allows web designers to separate web content from site design and then give non-technical users access to the site so that they can edit the content themselves. (225)

    Templates allow the dog to wag the tail and not the other way around. Does that mean that essayists and writers of weblogs are dogs? I’ll leave that for others to decide.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 26, 2003 | 1:29 am

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    Mon Mar 24, 2003

    Adding value to links

    In The Weblog Handbook, Rebecca Blood praises Jorn Barger’s 1999 list of ways to “add value to your links.” Barger suggests that we do more than point to another site — that we precisely describe, evaluate, and even interpret the site for readers before urging them to spend their time visiting. He asks that we link to the best page on a site, not the first page; that we sample interesting graphics; that we save readers time by linking to printer-friendly versions of a site; that we offer a lively and representative quotation from a site. Barger also offers links to other reflections on how to prepare stronger web pages.

    His list of ways to add value to links is, implicitly, also an aid to invention and interpretation. The list should be useful to teachers as they give structure to weblog assignments and to students as they find ways to create more complex work on their weblogs.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 24, 2003 | 11:02 am

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    Sun Mar 23, 2003

    Praising Athens

    In an earlier comment Kate Egerton said that on the web, even if you are a well-meaning person, you will often still “end up conversing with copies of yourself” rather than encountering diverse perspectives and broadening your view of an issue. The fact that some commonplace phrases describe this problem indicates how common the problem is. We know that writers sometimes end up “preaching to the choir,” and long ago one great scholar of rhetoric talked about the intellectually lazy act of praising Athens to an audience of Athenians.

    I had a famous teacher once, a master rhetorician, who often began class by giving a definition of an important concept and leading a discussion of its implications. I noticed after a few weeks, though, that very often he would turn the conversation about 1/3 of the way through the class by quietly providing a contrasting definition. As we worked through the implications of the second definition, we often were able to use the final 1/3 of the class to think about the significance of these conflicting definitions. We were practicing a form of discourse that valued 1) the act of guided inquiry, rather than 2) the assertion of authority or the act of persuasion.

    He never pointed out this strategy, but I noticed it one day and confirmed it in later classes. This remains for me a clue to the powerful ethical differences between different modes of writing and speaking. I suspect students often come to our classes knowing the second of those forms of discourse implicitly and perhaps even having some skills in it, but with a less well-developed sense of the first form. Yet the first form is more interesting to me as a teacher.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 23, 2003 | 11:29 pm

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    Sat Mar 22, 2003

    Don’t hide the moves

    When I get a chance to spend a few minutes looking at newish weblogs written by students, I see that some of them, of course, start off at a very basic level, and I wonder if some of the writers have noticed the room to move that a good weblog assignment has given them or the techniques that they will need to explore their topic skillfully. Seeing these hints about where some of the writers are in their developm ent, I am reminded of a very nice lecture Christine Farris of Indiana University (Bloomington) gave here in South Bend a few years ago. One point she made was that we shouldn’t hide the moves — we should name the goals of an assignment very clearly and tell as much as we can about the steps one should take to achieve those goals and the elements of the finished produce we will be using for evaluation.

    She said that many teachers she had worked with were able, when asked or even pressed, to say much more about the goals and elements of their assignments than they had offered students in assignment sheets or oral descriptions. We sometimes take too much for granted about what students know and end up unintentionally hiding the moves from the students who most need to learn them.

    Working with weblogs will bring this problem back for most of us, since we will probably not be quite sure what we think weblogs can accomplish in a semester and what steps are necessary along the way. When it comes to writing on the web, what are the moves?

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 22, 2003 | 11:02 pm

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    Fri Mar 21, 2003

    Strengths that are weaknesses / Creating a sense of audience

    I notice from the last two weeks of work that one of the strengths of writing nearly every day and having the new material posted at the top of the main page is a growing sense of fluency or ease as a writer. Most days it is not very hard to explore a new aspect of the topic, especially if there is time to do a bit of reading and thinking. If I have a bit of an idea that I can keep in mind and think about as I walk to work, say, there’s a good chance I’ll be able to develop the idea in a writing session sometime that day.

    But that easy can be too easy; that word fluency reminds me of the word flow that students often struggle with, since it offers only a vague sense of how ideas build through composing and revising. “I’ll know it when I see it,” some of them tend to say, but I’m not sure that is always correct. Fluency is an early goal, not the final goal, for writers in college courses. And that message that appears and then slides down the column and slips into the archive may testify to little more than fluency, if other goals aren’t achieved as well. It helps me to get some clues from other readers and writers on the site; I find it easier to press myself to go beyond fluency as my sense of audience increases. Students will probably need the same assistance.

    When students are writing their early entries in a course-related weblog, they probably won’t have enough material to attract a wide audience. While they’re working on fluency and stretching to address other course goals, they’ll need classmates to help provide a sense of audience. A “comments” feature of some kind seems essential, then, for building a useful and writerly sense of weblog audience. We’ll need to build into the early weeks of the course, and perhaps the entire course, opportunities and obligations for students to read and comment on each other’s work.

    We’ll want to figure out how to teach good commenting. In class last week I asked students to talk about which comments they had been given on a recent paper draft were most helpful, and why. We created an informal guide to useful commenting for everyone to use on the next writing project, and I’ll be posting this guide on that class’s web site. We can also update it, or at least check to see that it is still on target, in a couple of weeks. This way, students help name their own needs as writers and their obligations as writers of feedback for others. So far so good….

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 21, 2003 | 10:33 pm

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    Thu Mar 20, 2003

    Wish list #1

    I would like to invite folks to use the “comments” link, below, to make brief suggestions about the things the perfect weblog software for higher education should be able to do. As the list grows, it may be of use to colleagues making a decision about software or even to a passing software developer thinking about the next version of a product.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 20, 2003 | 7:44 pm

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    Wed Mar 19, 2003

    The distinctive traits of weblogs

    Chris Ashley of the Interactive University Project wrote an excellent two-part article describing many of the elements of weblog software and practice that are of most interest to educators. Both sections of the article include links to two to three dozen other discussions of weblogs or illustrative sites.

    The first section of the article describes the most common traits of this “writing space.” Ashley includes thoughtful introductions to the dynamic or unfolding nature of weblog content and the role a community of interested readers and fellow weblog writers play in creating a cultural or rhetorical context for the writing. Berkeley Computing & Communications, Volume 11, Number 4 (Fall 2001).

    The second section considers the degree to which weblogs can be used to organize information, create communities, create new forms of journalism, support active and collaborative approaches to teaching, and replace more intricate course management systems. Berkeley Computing & Communications, Volume 12, Number 1 (Winter 2002).

    Chris Ashley has provided an excellent introduction.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 19, 2003 | 3:25 pm

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    Syndicating weblogs

    I considered a moment of silence today, given the grave danger of war, but we might also learn what we can from the times we live in. Back to work, then. Blogs are a flexible tool for following the daily and hourly developm ents around the threat of war or other very dynamic subject. I can imagine classes putting blogs to very good use in an election year, for example, studying the political process, assembling information for voters, or researching and testing the claims of candidates, say.

    You can sample the work of writers who stay close to the frightening news in many blogs devoted to international politics; if you find one or two, you can use their collections of links to find another dozen. I’ll somewhat arbitrarily mention the last one I found, as a example: Back to Iraq 2.0 — the work of reporter Christopher Allbritton. You notice the attractive layout and graphics, the detailed reports, the strongly held political perspective, the search engine, the links to related sites, and other standard features. Not quite so common is that he offers a discussion forum attached to each post, and he categorizes each post at the end, in order to make the site more useful. You sense the energy involved, and created, in trying to keep up with the complexity of his unfolding subject matter.

    And a dazzling further step — syndication. Properly set up, the data base that supports a weblog can be syndicated to other weblogs. Allbritton has made his content available for another weblog, Warblogs:cc, a site that is composed mainly of syndicated clippings from six blogs and a handful of major news services. This kind of team effort, made possible by syndication, could produce a more varied and substantial web publication. It seems to me that students could unite in a group project of real use to one community or another using syndication to combine individual or small group efforts into something quite substantial. Take that idea, above, about researching and testing the claims of candidates. Teams of students could handle different topics of interest in a particular election, or different races, or different planks in party platforms. Working at their own pace, the groups would publish pieces as they were ready, and the syndication page that assembled the different strands would be dynamic, often changing and growing. The students might gain a real audience with a page like that. Building a site that syndicates, organizes, and then evaluates the work of other organizations could also make a powerful assignment.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 19, 2003 | 1:20 am

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    Mon Mar 17, 2003

    A grand experiment / by Craig W.

    Late last year, a colleague introduced me to weblogs. I surfed the Net a bit, read a wonderful book by Rebecca Blood (The Weblog Handbook, Perseus Publishing, 2002), and discovered a layer of the Web that I hadn’t even known existed. After giving it some thought, I decided to incorporate a weblog assignment into the latest incarnation of my Internet Politics course. The assignment would replace one from previous semesters, which required students to create a website in lieu of a standard term paper (with mixed results).

    As such, rather than a “model major course assignment,” I tend to think of this as a sort of “grand experiment.” The results aren’t in yet, of course, but it’s been an interesting experience so far. On the whole, students have responded positively to the assignment; and some seem to be putting a good deal of thought into their entries.

    One of the major pedagogical hurdles for me, unfamiliar as I was with blogging, was figuring out how to connect the weblog assignment to my course. In previous semesters, I had required students to create a website on an issue that was explicitly political. For this assignment, I decided to regard blogging itself as a political act, since the “online communities” that develop around interlinked weblogs are informed by particular ideologies or political perspectives. To reinforce this notion, throughout the semester, I’ve tried to highlight these connections and political perspectives in class.

    Again, I’ll have to see how this all turns out; but I think the assignment will work well enough that, perhaps with some minor adjustments, I can use it in future semesters and/or for other courses.

    Posted by Craig W on Mar 17, 2003 | 3:47 pm

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    Indexing as interpretation

    I’m oddly fond of the feature of this software that appears in the left column of the main page, under the ARCHIVE SUMMARY heading. It’s the second one, the “View by Category” link. Now that there are a number of entries in this site, the page you see when you click on “View by Category” is starting to fill up. The categories are threads built into the structure of this weblog (others can be added in a moment, if we think of new threads we’d like to explore) and represent a sort of self-indexing, on the run, during the everyday work on the weblog.

    That “Category” page seems handy to me because it starts to give some intellectual structure to the work. I think it would be good, no matter what software one is using, to ask students to prepare a web page category index or else a print version, as a step in reflecting on his or her accomplishment in writing a weblog for a course. Another step might be to write a guide to the index, an overview of the contents of the categories. A further step might be to write an intellectual chronology of the categories, interpreting the movement of ideas for a visitor. As you can guess, I’m looking for ways to help students toward the complexity that the most powerful weblogs achieve, and as a teacher I’m looking for assignment structures to help that happen. Other paths, though?

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 17, 2003 | 12:39 pm

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    Sun Mar 16, 2003

    Aiming for academic discourse

    Robert M. Holland, Jr.’s article (see the end of this post) also provides some language that can help us think about the shape of weblog assignments, if we believe in assignments (I do). Here is one of his overviews:

    A scholar teachers what he knows; inquires, through dialectic, into what he does not know; and not only submits to but seeks the best interrogation, refutation, or criticism that may be developed by other scholars. Academic discourse, at its best, is both dialectic and didactic. (72-73)

    Earlier in the article Holland says that academic discourse is

    a search for truth through questions and answers designed to rectify, using logic, the evidence of observed data with the assertions of theory. Academic discourse is, then, both Aristotelian and Platonic: Aristotelian in its empiricism and its appeal to logical relationships claimed between particular instances and general truths; Platonic in its commitment to an intersubjective search for truth through dialectic. (72)

    While this might seem to give an emphasis to collective weblogs or weblogs with discussion or comment areas, a conscientious writer can use questioning strategies to carry out these goals in a one-person site.

    This reminds me of a story I heard about the scholar Hans-Georg Gadamer giving a lecture when he was deep in his nineties, an age at which he needed to be helped to the stage. At the end, still holding himself upright with the help of the podium, he asked the audience for refutations to his talk. When no one rose to speak, he said, “Very well, I shall refute myself,” and he proceeded to interrogate the points he had just made in his speech. That’s a wonderful image of commitment to academic discourse.

    Robert M. Holland, Jr.’s article, “Discovering the Forms of Academic Discourse,” appeared in Audits of Meaning: A Festschrift in Honor of Ann E. Berthoff, edited by Louise Z. Smith, pages 71-79. Boynton/Cook (Portsmouth, NH) published the book in 1988.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 16, 2003 | 8:58 pm

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    Sat Mar 15, 2003

    Teaching students about invention

    Classical rhetoricians studied invention, the skill of creating material for one’s speeches and writing. Students today usually don’t know this sense of the word, but they benefit from learning invention strategies that can serve them as writers in college and in their working lives. The central invention strategies for bloggers seem to be:

    1. linking to web sites and quoting from them, and
    2. talking about the sites and the quotations.

    I can imagine studying links, quotations, and the accompanying talk, and creating a taxonomy of these strategies, perhaps informed by Bloom’s taxonomy. Some of the options are:

    1. naming a site or author
    2. linking to a site or author
    3. quoting from a site or author

    And further:

    4. offering no evaluation of a site or author
    5. offering a global evaluation of a general character of a site or author
    6. offering a more particular evaluation of a site or author
    7. offering a summary of a site or author

    And further still:

    8. quoting a particular section of a site or author
    9. quoting and summarizing the quotation

    10. quoting and supporting the quotation
    11. quoting and evaluating the quotation
    12. illustrating and testing a quotation against other evidence or examples
    13. discussing a quotation from one site or author in light of a quotation from another site or author

    And further:

    14. discussing a quotation in light of a body of ideas and examples from a profession or academic field
    15. illustrating and discussing the significance of the comments made while carrying out any of the above items

    And so forth. As we go down the very rough list, we head toward something most people would probably call critical thinking. If we shape weblog assignments sufficiently (if we believe that they need to be shaped as assigments, rather than left to take on their own character without our guidance), then we can help students proceed down the list toward writing and thinking of greater complexity and skill. I would be curious to know if this rough list seems at least suggestive to others.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 15, 2003 | 8:21 pm

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    Make me care

    Over two years ago Michael Stillwell described the growing impatience with a kind of weblog writing:

    I lost interest in weblogs. They were never a great passion; over the last year or so they’ve become much less interesting, and much more, well, precious. Make me care about you and your weblog; don’t assume that I do. Junk the “mystery” links, the cutesy lines, the breakfast, lunch and dinner menus. #

    I like the urgency of that middle sentence: “Make me care about you and your weblog; don’t assume that I do.” Assuming that a reader will care about the little adventures of the letter I is arrogant; a writer has an ethical obligation to engage with others, to risk an encounter with their concerns, their perspectives, their arguments. Even though I am a big fan of the genre of the personal essay, I think Stillwell is right that good writing is more than a transcript of one’s day, a catalog of the commonplace notions that pass through one’s mind, a chart of one’s emotions. If you work to understand the specificity of someone else’s ideas and experiences, you may be more ready to think and write interestingly about your own. From the point of view of a teacher, this is an argument for structured assignments, for asking students to do something they might not have imagined asking themselves.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 15, 2003 | 12:50 am

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    Thu Mar 13, 2003

    A substantial guide

    The Web Tools Newsletter has a special issue devoted to weblogs in education, surveying web sites and articles and discussing several major strands in the developlent of “edublogs.” Though they offer to “survey briefly,” they’ve accomplished much more than that. See also their issues on blogs and weblogs — subtle distinction….

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 13, 2003 | 6:03 pm

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    Wed Mar 12, 2003

    Product and process

    It may be useful to think about both the process and the product of a student’s work on a weblog. Writing teachers have used these two terms to help think about the ways we have set up courses and assignments — as a way of understanding, in part, what it is we are trying to teach when we give a particular sort of assignment. To make two very quick examples, if you require and, by asking content-related questions, respond to rough drafts before students hand in a final draft, your greater emphasis on an extended process of writing may help students build more reflection and critical thinking into their writing practices. If you only mark papers for sentence correctness, you might be telling students to think of writing in terms of a very particular and narrow sort of product.

    Why, then, are weblogs worth giving as class assignments?

    1. Is the process itself valuable enough to justify using the finite resources of a course? If so, what are the virtues we see in the process? How can they be drawn out or amplified?

    2. Is the process valuable if it is done a certain way, using certain concepts or techniques? If so, what are those concepts or techniques? What are the virtues we see in them? How can they be drawn out or amplified?

    3. Is there a product other than the process that has some value? Is that product the completed weblog entries or the whole website? It that produce something that can be abstracted from the weblog?

    For the sake of conversation, let me propose tentative answers to the three questions.

    1. Just as a conversation or lecture held in a classroom is not necessarily a pedagogical event (a successful one, anyway), a weblog completed for a course assignment isn’t necessarily a pedagogical event either. It might be true that in ten years everyone will be composing weblogs, but the basics of making one are so simple that we cannot give college credit, I would say, just because a student has let us impose a weblog on him or her.

    2. A weblog can be a pedagogical tool if it involves inquiry and reflection, the risk of encountering some complexity, the experience of doing so using the tools of some academic field or profession, the responsibility for thinking through something over time. A person who does these things is making new knowledge for herself, for himself, and if a college course has helped that happen more strategically then there is a skilled teacher at work. We need more discussion of the structures of an assignment, as it influences the structures and practices of a weblog, in order to know more about how this can work.

    3. One way to accomplish the things I’ve said in my answer to #2 might be to ask students to use the process of blogging in order to prepare the content they need in order to make a useful product, such as a web site addressing a question in the field. This web site might be dynamic, might be a weblog, but the thinking and gathering that allows an individual or a team of students to be ready to address the question could also be carried out and recorded in a weblog. So one or more student weblogs, sites of a process of inquiry, could lead to one weblog that offers a body of resources addressing the question they’ve chosen.

    For example, the web site called Good News India. This is not a student weblog, but it addresses a problem — the need for a resource bank of creative solutions to a range of social problems in India. In doing so, it tries to be a resource for others. Robert M.Holland, Jr., proposed some years ago that students stop writing the usual (often problematic) research papers, which can sometimes be little more than loose cut-and-paste jobs, and start creating guides to the literature on a particular question. He worked with librarians to help students create these guides, and later they were contributed to the college library’s collection. In both cases, the product is meant to be of service to others, and that probably stimulates the writers to produce something that addresses serious questions, is informed by the best thinking in the field, and so forth. If there is a product that comes out of a weblog assignment, we might be able to help students achieve the goals in question 2 more readily. Perhaps we can give assignments, however, in which the process is structured so well that the process is product enough.

    More on Holland in this post. Robert M. Holland, Jr.’s article, “Discovering the Forms of Academic Discourse,” appeared in Audits of Meaning: A Festschrift in Honor of Ann E. Berthoff, edited by Louise Z. Smith, pages 71-79. Boynton/Cook (Portsmouth, NH) published the book in 1988.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 12, 2003 | 5:53 pm

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    The rewards of a writerly discipline

    Almost immediately I noticed a few things about the experience of writing this weblog. As I tried to make at least one contribution a day, I noticed that I was thinking informally about the topic fairly often during the day, while walking to the coffee machine or heading over to the cafeteria for lunch, and making small steps forward in my thinking even when I wasn’t sitting at the keyboard. I remember Ernest Hemingway talking about how writers recharge themselves for the next day’s writing, and I think students, who so often write only just before a deadline, may never discover how thinking about something every day can tap a part of the brain’s power that otherwise may remain dormant. With a properly structured weblog assignment, I think we can help them have a new experience of the rewards of a writerly discipline.

    I also have noticed that it is liberating to know that I only need to write a small piece each day. That builds confidence and keeps me involved, keeps me from the writer’s block that can arise under more high pressure circumstances. I recall a summer school course I took in graduate school where a short paper was due every day. By the middle of the term I had a new feeling that I could think and write any time. I believe that weblog assignments can give a similar experience to students.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 12, 2003 | 1:08 am

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    Tue Mar 11, 2003

    Toward a dynamic page

    I decided to buy some software instead of using the free weblog software available at places like Blogger because I wanted to learn more of the options that are available with these data-base-and-template-driven tools. One thing my guide from the IT department at Saint Louis University, Andrew Wimmer, pointed out immediately was the goal of having a dynamic rather than static web page / web site. How many times can a person usefully visit a static site? How can the web be a place for creativity, collaboration, democratic exchange, if most of the sites are dead? I think these are fair questions. Similarly, having students post their homework on the web is not always more interesting or dynamic than having them hand in a paper copy or pass a copy or two around in class.

    Luckily, weblogs are dynamic by virtue of the frequent entries by one or more writers, each new one traditionally placed at the top of the main page for easy access. But other kinds of shape-shifting and content-shifting can be accomplished with some weblog software. For example, this software, pm achine, offers something called pBlocks, and I have placed a small example of that in the bottom left column of the site’s main page.

    I set up a pBlock by giving it a name and creating two entries that belong to it, though I could have created many more. These entries can be images or text or other page elements. Then I write a simple line of code into the page calling for the particular pBlock to function. Then when your browser creates this page, it inserts one of the entries in the right spot. If you hit refresh or if you return to the site tomorrow, you will probably see a different entry, as the pBlock cycles through them or selects them randomly, whichever I choose. In this way I can offer students quotations from important figures in our field, for example, each time they load the page, or I could even ask them to populate the pBlock themselves and add this layer of dynamism to our class site.

    I am curious to know how people imagine using a feature like this. In a class on prose style I have used the feature to offer a variety of models in different styles and tones, for example, each time students come to the site. A teacher of art history might put slides of important works into a pBlock to give some visual energy to the site while also reminding students of the course content. Your thoughts?

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 11, 2003 | 12:31 am

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    Mon Mar 10, 2003

    A model major course assignment

    A friend passed along a link to Craig Warkentin’s course called Internet Politics. Taught at SUNY-Oswego, POL 330 includes a major weblog assignment worth 20% of the course grade. Dr. Warkentin publishes a detailed description of this thoughtfully-prepared assignment on his web site, and he includes links to his own blog and those written by his students. I will invite him to talk about his course here in the days ahead.

    PS. He joined the conversation with this post.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 10, 2003 | 12:14 am

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    Learning from bad examples?

    It may be useful to think about diary weblogs. Without discussing the role that sort of public disclosure plays in society or in the life of the writer, it seems easy to conclude that many of these are probably a poor model for pedagogical blogging. The diaries wander in the wilderness of the individual life, they have no allegiance to the critical tools of a field or profession, they glance off the events, emotions, and ideas of their days. From the point of view of a teacher, I would say that while they offer some of the pleasures of writing and reading, they aren’t serious.

    Yet weblogs are clearly useful for tracing and developing the thoughts that follow unfolding events, and some diaries are wonderful for that work. Political blogs can be both of the moment, personal, yet informed by theory and historical context. All fields unfold, some as often, as quickly, as a wire service posts a news story and some as slowly as the editing, printing, and mailing of a quarterly journal. A student could compose a weblog by following the unfolding of some portion of a field, noting what the student-writer sees as the vital issues and the representative events and facts, and using those to illustrate and test the (traditional and unfolding) guiding ideas of the field.

    I will say more tomorrow about how my teacher, Gene Krupa, asked students to surround an issue with their research, seeking all the main perspectives available, and then to position themselves in relation to those different voices. I will talk about Robert M. Holland, Jr.’s article about replacing traditional research assignments (that lead very often to weak cut-and-paste plagiarism) with projects that ask students to compose a guide to the literature on a particular subject.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 10, 2003 | 12:07 am

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    Sat Mar 08, 2003

    Some starting points

    While the main article addresses the gender dynamics of the blogging community, author Lisa Guernsey provides a sidebar introducing two books and five software providers for beginning bloggers: “Telling All Online: It’s a Man’s World [Isn’t It?],” in the Circuits section of the Thursday, November 28, 2002 New York Times, pages E1, E7.

    Conservative journalist Andrew Sullivan described the weblog phenomenon in the February 24, 2002 London Times and continues to offer this article as A Blogger Manifesto in his own blog’s Culture section. Without raising the price of his article a cent, he includes a dose of free-style media-bashing near the end just because it was building up in his system, I guess.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 08, 2003 | 1:08 pm

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    Let me know if you run into trouble

    Most of the features of this software are very easy to use, but if you have a problem, please click on the “comment” link, below, and leave a message there, or use the contact link located in the lower left part of the main page. Thanks.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 08, 2003 | 11:00 am

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    The heart of the matter

    The pedagogy discussion should be the heart of the matter for this weblog, so why not start now? Are there questions or principles or problems you would like to bring up?

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 08, 2003 | 10:05 am

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    Loss of instructional time

    With weblogs and with all the earlier software we’ve used in college writing classes, I’ve had two concerns:

    1. As appealing as holding class in a computer lab can be, we sometimes use computers for types of assignments students used to do as homework, and as a result, we can lose instructional time when we use computers.

    2. And when faculty members spend time learning new software and then handling the dozens or hundreds of messages and files students produce, we often spend much more time teaching each course than we used to do.

    At first glance, is seems very easy for computers to reduce the quality of a course and of a teacher’s working life. Nevertheless, here I am, learning a new kind of software.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 08, 2003 | 10:02 am

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    Sharing ideas about particular software tools

    I hope that visitors to the site will occasionally share interesting traits of the software packages they are using. For example, this site is “powered by pm achine,” as their logo says, and that means that I can easily offer several categories for our posts (“Topics” in the left column of the main page). It takes no more than a minute for me to set up a new category, if we find that we need one to make our work go more smoothly, and then contributors can sort their new posts into the appropriate category, for the convenience of their readers.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 08, 2003 | 9:15 am

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    Setting up work groups

    If users of this site find that they would like to create new threads to address particular topics or bring colleagues together in other ways, I will be glad to set up work groups. Leave a suggestion by clicking on “comment” below, or email me through the contact information in the left column of the main page.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 08, 2003 | 9:00 am

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    Fri Mar 07, 2003

    Harvard University certifies* the future of education weblogs

    By giving a fellowship to blogging innovator Dave Winer, Harvard University points* higher education in the direction of the on-the-run web collaboration and publishing known as blogging. A blog or weblog is a web page containing frequently-updated entries on a topic, usually posted in a column with the newest entry on top. The software supporting weblogs allows single writers or teams of collaborators to prepare and post new entries to the web very quickly, without writing html or other code required by older forms of web page. Other materials, such as a space for readers to comment or a list of web links to related web sites, are common elements of a weblog.

    A news story and interview with Winer announces the university’s commitment to “the Internet’s hottest new trend,” which, says Winer, is “going to be a basic skill like e-mail or using a word processor.” # Educators are just starting to explore the pedagogical value of this new technology.

    Elsewhere, on his History of Weblogs site, Winer offers this definition:

    Weblogs are often-updated sites that point to articles elsewhere on the web, often with comments, and to on-site articles. A weblog is kind of a continual tour, with a human guide who you get to know. There are many guides to choose from, each develops an audience, and there’s also comraderie and politics between the people who run weblogs, they point to each other, in all kinds of structures, graphs, loops, etc. #

    “Blogging comes to Harvard” by Paul Festa, CNET News, February 25, 2003.

    Note:

    *I look back on the rhetoric of my message with a bit of a shudder, knowing more clearly now how much work has already been done in this field by interesting people who have shared many ideas and examples in sites of their own. I would probably set up this message differently now, since some readers might be pleased to let me know that they didn’t need any *certifying or *pointing to get to work. Addendum by KS, 3/20/03.

    Posted by Ken Smith on Mar 07, 2003 | 1:20 pm

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  • Going to See the Mouse

    I discovered that planning a trip to Disney World is very much like getting on one of the Disney rides. Almost anywhere you sit in the Magic Kingdom, you find a chrome bar settling across your lap, and then they’ve got you. The theme music revs up, the gears engage, the little carriage or hollow log or space ship you’re in lurches forward, and there’s no getting off until you reach the gift shop. Similarly, once you let anyone at the Disney Corporation or its subsidiaries or affiliates know that you are even thinking of going to see the Mouse, the brightly-colored wheels start turning. Someone with eight big fingers and a taste for white gloves types your name into a computer, grabs the red ball at the end of a long lever, pulls down, and presto! You’re on Walt’s mailing list.

    Before we could say Jiminy Cricket, beautiful envelopes started appearing in the mail. They contained glossy pictures of wonderful amusement park rides, dazzling hotel pools, and spotless street corners where famous cartoon characters stood larger than life among their young human fans. Next a free videocassette arrived, and we quickly found ourselves washed over by joyful sounds and images of family life under the palm trees. After watching the video I felt more nostalgia for Disney World than I thought a person could feel for something he’s never experienced. With our emotions engaged, the trip took on a momentum of its own. Nobody could remember any longer whose idea the trip had been. Nobody knew how much it would cost. But it appeared that neither my wife nor I was strong enough to just say no. It appeared that we were going to see the Mouse.

    I went on the web and got prices for flights and hotel and park tickets and food and souvenirs. The total was shocking. Then I figured out how many hours we’d be there, divided by the number of family members, and came up with a round figure of $10 an hour. To get our money’s worth, each family member would need to have $10 worth of fun every waking hour for the entire time we were in Orlando. Could the four of us have $40 worth of fun every hour? How much fun is that, anyway? I didn’t know what to make of these figures, but, frankly, I wasn’t sure an old-fashioned Midwestern family should be having that much fun. So I marched down the hall and offered the children $500 each not to go to Disney World. They turned me down. I suspect that someone in white gloves had tipped them off that I could have raised my offer quite substantially and still come out ahead. Now more than ever, it appeared we were going to see the Mouse.

    I went to the public library and checked out books on how to visit Disney World properly. I was alarmed to learn from these books that there would be a rush at the start of each business day, with crowds of people running up Main Street U.S.A. to be the first in line at the most desirable rides. I learned that you are supposed to run on the right side of the street if you want to start the day in Tomorrowland and on the left side if you want to head for Frontierland. I learned to say Disney World’s new mantra, Fastpass (Fastpass, Fastpass). That’s the computerized ticket system that saves people hours of standing in line for rides and gives them that much more time for opening their wallets in the gift shops.

    My wife will deny it, but it’s true, we went to Disney World and it was everything I imagined it would be, and more. Did I get to meet Mickey? All I can say is this: when our very early wake-up call came on that last morning in the hotel, just before we headed back to the airport, I heard a wonderfully familiar high-pitched voice on the other end of the line. He was saying, “Rise and shine, Buster, there’s big doin’s planned for today.” By the time the children ran over to hear that magical voice, he was gone.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired January 10, 2003 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • On Becoming a Crank

    I was walking home from work the other day, scrambling and unscrambling the day’s broken eggs. When I reached the dysfunctional three-way intersection about a block from our house, I looked up from my imaginary omelette to check the traffic before crossing. A large white truck was making its way down Longfellow, using that residential street as a business thoroughfare. From the truck’s speed I could tell that the driver had no intention of pausing at the first of the two stop signs he would encounter in the poorly designed intersection.

    The street department rebuilt the intersection a few years ago and improved it, but since then I’ve still seen a few dozen people run that first stop sign as I’ve been walking past. Having kids of my own not far away and knowing that other people’s children play nearby, I find these careless drivers alarming. I have even, shall we say, “called out” to a few of them, reminding them in a loud voice that the red octagon whizzing past on the side of the road is actually a stop sign. Most drivers ignore me, but a few have lifted their right hand from the steering wheel to model a famous finger gesture, and a few others have demonstrated their bountiful contempt for civil order by running the second stop sign too.

    I had just about gotten over my crank behavior, this habit of yelling at dangerous drivers in the neighborhood – I can’t remember the last time I “called out” to a driver – but something about that big white truck caught my eye. Who knows, maybe I had suppressed one too many emotions at work that day, but when I saw the open window, I knew that the passenger and maybe the driver, too, would hear me, and so I called out. I had time to say my usual “Stop sign!” as the truck passed. The driver did halt at the second stop sign, and by then the passenger had his head out the window and was hooting and laughing derisively.

    After I’ve yelled at a driver, I use the last block of my walk home to bring my blood pressure back down, and I sometimes think about John Irving’s novel, The World According to Garp. The book’s main character, a concerned father named Garp, regularly runs after and scolds dangerous drivers in his neighborhood. But later Garp himself takes a playful, though reckless, lights-out midnight joyride down his own block, and he ends up killing one person and injuring others and all but destroying his own family in a collision right there in his own dark driveway. How many cranks hold other people to higher standards than they manage for themselves, I wonder? Even so, we may sometimes have a civic duty to be a crank.

    I thought of that duty, too, during the fall elections. As you would expect, the national Democratic and Republican parties both wanted badly to win our up-for-grabs seat in Congress, and they sent out campaign advisors, advertising experts, and money. In addition, important national political figures from both parties flew into town, gave stump speeches at big public rallies and threw their weight behind their candidates. I heard fifteen seconds of one of those speeches on the evening news. The famous national politician was telling the buoyant partisan crowd that he liked his party’s candidate because the fellow didn’t tailor his views to match the results of focus groups. This was the moment where there needed to be a crank in the crowd, but there wasn’t one. In all the partisan excitement, nobody thought clearly enough to see that a modern major-party candidate surely uses tools like focus groups to decide what to tell voters. Nobody felt an angry surge of adrenaline at having been spoken to with such carelessness or perhaps even contempt. Nobody called out to that very important visitor. Nobody dissented. Nobody said, you’re lying to us and maybe to yourself too! Where are the cranks when we need them?

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired November 29, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • Autumn in the Neighborhood

    This summer we remembered to pinch the buds off our chrysanthemum plants in late July, and so for several weeks now we have enjoyed a stout row of bushy chrysanthemums covered with rusty yellow and red blossoms below the front window. A couple of weeks ago, to top it off, our children painted a four or five-foot jack-o-lantern on that window. Each sister handled half the design, so Jack ended up with one side of his huge mouth smiling and the other side frowning. The kitchen light glows behind him on dark evenings, making a perfect contribution to the neighborhood’s Halloween traditions.

    Not long ago, three or four bales of straw appeared in the driveway next door, a sign that our neighbors planned to make their usual contribution, too. They have grandchildren now, but they’ve been building an intricate and spooky Halloween display on their corner lot since their own kids were old enough to enjoy it. They have ghostly music playing, and wild, flickering jack-o-lanterns and spider webs and ugly creatures with stuffed shirts climbing out of graves and skeletons leaning on tombstones, and a couple of spotlights throw long shadows across the whole spectacle. Two or three adults in monstrous attire pace around the scene handing out candy and staying ominously in character the whole time. People all over the neighborhood make a point to come see the display each year.

    I feel nostalgic for neighborhood customs in late autumn, seeing the gardens fade and knowing that several months will pass before we start hanging out in the front yard again, enjoying unscheduled visits with neighborhood walkers. I was out in the yard one mild morning a few weeks ago when the neighbors whose baby was due came very slowly around the corner. They paused in front of the next house, and by the way the wife leaned on her husband I could tell that she was finally in labor. Two women, probably the midwives, followed them. A few hours after their detour onto our sidewalk, in a long, successful home birth, they had their third son. Some afternoons I run into the little guy snoozing in his stroller, which helps explain why we sometimes see his bedroom window shining when we’re turning off our lights for the night. He’s still setting his body clock to neighborhood time.

    There are other newcomers, too. A family moved in near the railroad tracks. The father is a firefighter, and on his off days he’s been tearing out a long row of yew bushes that circled the house. First he sawed off the tops, then plant by plant he dug down deep and chopped out the roots, leaving the soil clear for next year’s flower beds. I respect his hard work, his attention to detail, his desire to do a job right.

    Other families have been squeezing in one last home improvement project before the cold sets in. Friends a couple blocks over managed to scrape and paint their house in September, which inspired their next-door neighbors to do the same in October, just before their first child was due. Now this week I see a flag hanging from that house, showing a baby bottle and a blue ribbon on a field of blue. They will be great parents. The last time I ran into the father, he was buying some lumber to use in mending the porch of an older woman from their church.

    It’s been good to walk through the neighborhood, to see new people moving in and new children being born, people keeping up their houses and their holiday traditions. These things serve as an antidote to the hard news we’ve had this season from around the country and abroad. Snipers and bombs, war and rumors of war. Looking out at the neighborhood but remembering the news, I sometimes think, there but for the grace of God go you and I. The new father, the one who put out the blue flag, is in the armed forces, and soldiers like him will go into battle if the President leads us to war. When you know your neighbors, national and international news strikes closer to home.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired November 1, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • Opinion Polls, Common Sense, and the Pleasures of Reading Essays

    For several months this year pollsters said that President Bush had an absolutely tremendous approval rating. Huge majorities of people applauded his approach to various aspects of public policy. Whether I agree or disagree with their popular views, mega-majorities like this make me nervous, and I’m usually glad when any politician’s rating dips back down to a more humbling and motivational 45 % or so. It’s not normal for people to come to a tidy agreement about complex issues, so when approval ratings soar I start to wonder whether the backbone has gone out of the old democracy.

    Every year or two a pollster reports that a small percentage of Americans still think that the world is flat or that the moon landings were actually filmed on a Hollywood sound stage. I like to hear these dissenting voices, even when their opinions are plainly wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong, because it means there is still room in our society for thinking your own thoughts. It amazes me that there are people who believe, for example, that Keanu Reeves can act, or that an Indy 500 race car is the proudest emblem of the state’s history and so should appear on the back of Indiana’s new state quarter, but I’m glad when people who hold these opinions speak up. They give me something to think about, at least for a moment.

    And anyway, some of their views are probably not much more kooky that some of my own views. For the average person, what could be more mystical than, say, accepting a physicist’s claim that there are invisible forces of attraction linking every atom to every other atom in the universe? When it comes down to it, perhaps all of us spend a portion of our time doing what essayist Joan Didion called “felling trees in some interior wilderness.” If we build cabins out of those imaginary logs, and sit by the window typing manifestos in those imaginary cabins, who can say ahead of time how the manifestos will hold up in the give and take of public debate back here in the world as we know it. That is, if there is a debate.

    In the meantime, we need more quirky voices talking up their experiences and their views. Lately I’ve been reading a lot of essays, taking pleasure in that sly, heretical literary form that often quietly and playfully serves, as practitioner E. B. White said, as “the last resort of the egoist.” Essayists trot out their favorite stories and announce their articles of faith, not least of which is a clear-eyed but absolute love for their hero, their Everywoman or Everyman, who goes by the name of I and who often sets traps for any disciples of conformity and common sense who may follow them through their pages. Essayists imply and persuade the thing Walt Whitman said directly at the start of his poetic masterpiece, “I celebrate myself and sing myself,/ and what I assume you shall assume,/ for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.” I recommend both of the big anthologies that have come out in recent years, one called The Art of the Personal Essay and the other called Best American Essays of the Twentieth Century. Also take a look at any of the annual volumes from the Best American Essays series.

    From that first book I’m rather fond right now of G. K. Chesterton’s little essay called “On Running After One’s Hat.” In this essay the author notices that most people are annoyed when the wind gusts and suddenly they find themselves running down the avenue chasing their hat. Chesterton attacks our petty, selfish, common sense notion that a roving hat is an inconvenience rather than a chance for an unscheduled adventure. In that spirit, he says that “an adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered.”

    “Think otherwise,” then, is the essayist’s proper motto. Imagine a new coffee house somewhere in town, with a small sign hanging near the door that says, “Holders of popular views and common sense notions have no special privileges here.” I would gladly walk in and fling my chapeau, Frisbee-like, toward that shop’s hat rack anytime.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired September 20, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • Pride and Hype Along the Interstate

    If you traveled this summer you probably saw something thoroughly dispiriting once or twice along the way. I know I did. There was, for example, my visit to Wall Drug. Tucked in between the sacred, scenic Black Hills and the arid moonscape of the Badlands is the little town of Wall, South Dakota, where the once modest drug store has long been a major tourist destination, thanks in part to the dozens of playful billboards that hype the place for hundreds of miles along the interstate. Cars from all over North America overflow a much-expanded parking lot, and the famous store now fills a whole block and sells such things as polished gemstones, plastic sun visors, rubber tomahawks, and t-shirts. There were shelves and shelves of the sort of cheap trinkets that wily Europeans are supposed to have used centuries ago to help sucker childlike Native Americans into handing over their valuable continent, only now they were being used to separate today’s North Americans from their cash. I bought my daughters a couple of small souvenirs, but I have forgotten what they were, and the girls have probably forgotten too. I have to report that the store’s trademark free ice water was somewhere between lukewarm and tepid when I tasted it. That may have been the saddest part of the visit, since the proprietor’s wet and wonderful idea of giving out free ice water saved the drug store from withering away there on the sun-baked South Dakota plains several decades ago.

    You might defend the Wall Drug hype by saying that the owners have simply and even brilliantly played the cards they were dealt, and besides, what town on the interstate isn’t tempted by the lure of the tourist dollar? Why should all that money zoom down the highway into someone else’s pocket, when it could just as easily be theirs? It’s America, so let the buyer beware.

    But hype or exaggeration is so pervasive these days that it’s hard to keep up one’s guard. In Austin, Minnesota, I came across something called the Spam Museum. That’s Spam, the canned meat product, not spam, the unwanted email. After I read the museum’s billboard with the disarming slogan, “Believe the Hype,” I wasn’t sure I could even trust my understanding of the English language any longer, and I wondered a little about the people living there too. There were banners proudly proclaiming that Austin was Spam Town USA. There was a little paddle-wheeler boat called the Spam Town Belle giving rides across the municipal lake for $2 a person. In front of the corporate headquarters, a life-sized statue of a pig stood in the shelter of a much more than life-sized, full-color replica of a can of Spam that ironically served as the pig’s home. Several blocks before we could see the Spam canning plant its (shall we say) forceful aroma announced itself via our car’s air conditioner vents.

    At some point in the visit I started humming Monty Python’s Spam song and wondering how much of the civic identity had been ground up into Spam. Did they have a Spam festival? Did they find a beautiful girl and crown her Spam Queen? I’m happy to say that in spite of living near a factory that produces 7 cans of Spam a second, the good people of Austin appear to have kept their sense of humor. Check out their web site, spamtownusa, or the corporate site, spamgifts. You’ll find a beautiful picture of the earth from outer space, with cans of Spam orbiting around it.

    Some businesses along the highway have more interesting products to work with or choose to establish a stronger, less hype-driven relationship to their home community and the people passing by. When I drove back to Michiana and saw billboards for older corporate citizens like the beautiful Woodwind and Brasswind music store or younger entries like the delicious South Bend Chocolate Cafe, I was cheered and felt a bit of civic pride. A musical instrument will serve as a creative outlet for many years, but even a fleeting cup of coffee and a chocolate dessert with friends can add something of value to our lives. And an honest, understated corporate relationship to customers and community is a thing of beauty. And then, orbiting around us all, there’s Spam.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired August 23, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • Potawatomi Zoo

    It’s only been a few days since two or three feral dogs found their way into South Bend’s Potawatomi Zoo. Once inside, the dogs entered the Australian exhibit, where they killed thirteen of the zoo’s fourteen wallabies and injured some other animals. Now at the entrance to the zoo a large rustic wreath of carefully woven sticks and flowers commemorates the lost ones.

    If you know the zoo, you recall the Australian exhibit, a grassy, open-air home for kangaroos, their smaller cousins the wallabies, black swans, emu, and other birds. Visitors can watch from the perimeter — the other day my daughters and I spotted the female black swan and her five fuzzy gray cygnets, large now but still in their ugly duckling phase, sticking close to each other in the thick grass. It was good to see signs of life in the exhibit so soon after the attack. The adult male, a cantankerous fellow named Black Bart, was seriously injured fending off the dogs and is being tended in the zoo’s infirmary.

    Once things settle down I’m sure they’ll reopen the path that winds through the middle of this large exhibit. The path is one of the zoo’s best features, taking you past the shady area where kangaroos rest on a summer day and along the small ravine where the wallabies would often gather. It curves by the pond and passes the grassy slope where the swans usually build their nest. I remember holding my oldest daughter high in the air there when she was four so she could count the eggs in the nest. From the path patient visitors had a good chance to see young wallabies jumping in and out of their mother’s pouches. People who looked very carefully would locate the smallest ones, joeys who might be almost entirely hidden. I remember seeing one who revealed no more than its small wedge of a face and several inches of tail at the top of its mother’s pouch. Sensing my presence, the joey was completely still the entire time I watched it.

    I’ve visited Potawatomi Zoo several dozen times over the last few years, first with my older daughter and then with her sister, who has become our family’s great zoo fan. I’ve come to respect the zoo staff for careful planning and making good choices with what must be limited resources. They add new animals each year, and as in the older Australian area, most of the new or updated exhibits reward a careful watcher. For example, it’s great to see the squirrel monkeys face to face when they are indoors, in their traditional winter quarters, but in mild weather they are at their best, ranging nimbly across the highest and slenderest branches of the willow trees on their island home, far above the trumpeter swans that swim below on the pond. Or take a look at the beautiful new red panda that sometimes bounces around at ground level but often takes a long view on life from twenty-five or thirty feet up one of the spruce trees.

    And don’t wait too long before you go to see the new lion cubs, those two curious and rambunctious brothers who must be about seven months old now and still have their youthful spots. As unlikely as it seems, the portly penguins are among the zoo’s most graceful creatures when they swim beneath the surface of their pool — “like airplanes,” my daughter said. I’m fond of the tiny blue poison dart frogs myself and their misty jungle enclosures. Even though ours is a small zoo, there are many animals and exhibits that are good to watch closely. I suppose it goes against the grain of our channel-surfing way of life, but Potawatomi Zoo definitely becomes more interesting the more slowly you make your way through it.

    Let’s hope the zoo can restock the Australian exhibit quickly and restore this jewel of the collection. They’ve established a Remember the Wallabies Fund for those who wish to make contributions, and many children have, they say, been bringing in their savings to help out. Tomorrow the previously scheduled playful day of events celebrating Sammy, the zoo’s chimpanzee who likes to paint, has been amended to include a 3:00 commemorative gathering at the Australian exhibit. In case you’re wondering, Sammy is an abstract expressionist. And today, from 11:00 to 3:00, the zoo concession stand will be holding a fund raiser cookout in the parking lot. Of course after you get yourself a hot dog you’d be crazy not to stroll into the zoo and see if you can spot a squirrel monkey playing Tarzan in the weeping willow, or a tarantula meditating in its burrow. As the song says, it’s all happening at the zoo.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired August 9, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • Vacation Mishaps

    When I was visiting relatives last week I heard several old stories of vacation mishaps and I realized that I haven’t had that kind of problem lately. Sure, my wife, my daughters, and I have been snagged in highway traffic near Chicago on a Friday evening, one of those mind-rending back-ups where as an antidote to despair people eventually climb out of their trapped vehicles and stretch their legs and strike up a conversation with the folks from the next car. And who hasn’t spent the worst part of a day in some airport or another? A few years ago I ended up between flights having breakfast at O’Hare airport at 4:30 in the morning. The best thing I can say about that trip back from San Francisco was that it was quicker than walking.

    But those are the new style mishaps of our increasingly complex, overly managed and mismanaged way of life. I want to talk, instead, about the quirky old vacation misadventures of long ago. At the risk of sounding like a lunatic, let me say that when it comes to vacation mishaps, like many other things in life, they just don’t make them the way they used to.

    Here, for example, is my oldest memory of a vacation snafu. It’s somewhere around 1965. We’re camping in the Ozarks with family friends. The sun has been down for about an hour. The leaves and branches of the big trees above us are lit only by our campfire and our Coleman lantern. My father sets up his four young sons with marshmallow roasting sticks. My mother finishes the dinner dishes over at the dim edge of the flickering pool of light that marks our campsite. I toss a dry twig into the bright embers of the fire and watch it flame.

    Suddenly a woman’s scream tears through the night. I recognize my mother’s voice. All the adults leap up, but luckily she is okay. There in the darkness some arboreal creature had mistaken her leg for a tree and had started climbing. You can’t get that kind of unscheduled personal attention from the creatures at Disneyworld, I’ll wager.

    Or rather, some of us probably are not as willing as we used to be to stand at the edge of the unprogrammed darkness and take even a few mild chances on our vacation. I, for one, am not quite as dumb as I once was about risky recreation. In 1978 my friend Gene and I got caught in a snowstorm on the last day of a winter backpacking trip. By the time we reached our car it was standing alone in the parking lot under six inches of fresh snow. With evening coming on, we were the only two people presently enjoying the wonders of Clark National Forest.

    In case you are a 20 year old guy who still believes he’s immortal, let me point out that what you’ll hear next is the especially dumb part of the story. Guess what? The car cranked for a moment and then the battery died. Gene and I were much too macho to walk for another hour down the road to the nearest house and ask for help. We had a few matches, so we thought about building a fire, but the wind was picking up and we needed to get out of there. We did not want to be rescued. How embarrassing.

    Instead, we lit our camping stove inside the shelter of the trunk. For you Car Talk fans I should say that it was a 1969 Opel Kadett, the model with the gas tank strapped right there in the trunk. We unhooked the car battery and gently, gently warmed it over the stove. We tried not to think about the trouble we would have getting dates if the battery exploded in our faces. Once a few friendly bubbles began boiling up the sides of the battery, we hooked it back up to the engine, and the car started. Within moments we were making our way up the old logging road toward civilization. Within moments the tire chains broke and were lost in the snow. Gene steered and I pushed the car up several long, steep hills before we finally found a plowed road. And now I will close the curtains on that ridiculous evening of long ago.

    But there may be some compromises still available, some way to get off the paths that have been paved so prettily for us and make a real adventure of our own choosing, without teaching our children the dumb risks that come either from being terminally young or from being desperate to avoid an overly programmed life. So here I am, with bifocals and balding, still willing to risk the right kind of vacation mishap, if I can find it.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired July 12, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • A Season Pass to the Beach

    I have come to think that New Year’s resolutions are wasted here in the upper Midwest. When we’re trudging under dismal skies through those wet and chilly winter days, how many of us can find the time for proper introspection, and then commit enough psychic energy to change our lives? Our climate may also lead us to make larger resolutions than we should, big unrealistic plans for change we hope will counter the quiet desolation that can sneak up on a person who has been on duty here, one way or another, for a long time. No, early summer is the realistic season for making resolutions in the Midwest, I think, and those resolutions should start small.

    I made a small resolution on Saturday afternoon, when I took my daughters to our favorite Lake Michigan beach for the first time this summer. Instead of paying $5 at the gate for a one-day ticket, I plunked down six times that much for the season pass. If you had seen me there you probably would have thought, “Ah, one more father with his kids at the beach. Check out those aviator clip-ons and the ball cap and the faded swim trunks and the green station wagon, no less.” You wouldn’t have known that I had just made a silent vow to go to the beach at least 6 times this summer, not to get my money’s worth but because at that moment buying a season pass was the small, affirming, life-changing thing to do.

    I can see how you might resist that claim just a little. You might say, surely even in America, spending money on recreation can’t have much credibility as an uplifting or spiritual enterprise. For one thing, business always gets there ahead of us to arrange the whole consumer experience and collect its fee. And we don’t have to look far up or down Lake Michigan to confirm that. Think of those shore towns with the big marinas and the cigarette boats chugging out to the lake, the rows of gift shops selling things you would never miss if they had never been invented, the restaurants serving food designed to shorten your life, the stretches of beach guarded by opulent homes huddled in the dune-side equivalent of a gated community. There is still a lot of truth in the advice the mysterious Watergate informant called Deep Throat gave reporters Woodward and Bernstein all those years ago: Follow the money if you want to know how America works.

    But we don’t have to look to the wealthy or even drive an hour to the lake to find a life of embarrassing excess. Somehow we’ve all been talked into living much more extravagantly than our parents or grandparents did. For example, when I was a kid my grandmother enjoyed drinking Coca-Cola from a 6 ½ ounce glass bottle. Today no store would bother stocking a soft drink in such a tiny container. Instead, we’ve developed a taste for the 20 ounce plastic bottles, the big gulps, the giant waxy cups of sugar water we can purchase on the run anywhere we go. We Americans want more of everything every year, and it is becoming hard to imagine a different way of life.

    That’s where the season pass comes in handy, if you choose the right kind of beach. The one we like is just a town beach with a few campsites but no marina, no posh gift shops, no restaurants by the pier, no costumed cartoon characters, no rides, no Dolby sound systems. This is the first year they’ve had the money, finally, to pave the old gravel parking lot. For about $5 a visit you get to swim, to dig in the sand, to walk to the top of the dune. That’s almost all there is to do there, and that’s the virtue, the breathtaking contrast, the antidote to everyday life.

    My small resolution paid off immediately Saturday when I took a walk with my daughters in the woods behind the dune. Without any supercharged entertainments to distract me, I actually learned something about my children. It turns out that they are brave in different ways: the five year old charged straight up the steepest part of the dune, and the eight year old crossed the stream by walking like a gymnast on a fallen tree. They agreed about one small thing, however: walking in the woods together was something they wanted to call an adventure.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired June 14, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.

  • Home Repair and Family History

    The metal storm door was sticking last week, and when I ignored it for a few days the lower panel popped out and dropped onto the ground. I took the whole door down and reassembled it and tightened it with corner brackets, but I figured I would have to trim the wooden door frame to keep it from sticking again later. This got me into uncharted territory. However, I drew courage from a dim memory of some upscale PBS home repair show, and pretty soon I was back from the hardware store with a wood chisel, ready to work.

    I placed the chisel blade against the frame, and when I struck the handle with a hammer a slice of wood curled away beautifully from the blade, just like on TV. It was very satisfying, I have to say. But after a few more strokes of hammer on chisel I could see that my finished job wasn’t going to be pretty. If I tried very hard I could chisel sections that ended up somewhere between corrugated and rippled, but definitely not smooth or square. I had to admit that I was plainly a novice, chewing up the door frame with this fancy new tool.

    I felt a little embarrassed, as if someone was watching me, and suddenly I knew who it was – my grandfather, my mother’s father, the carpenter and family patriarch who died a few years ago in his late eighties. I wished I could have called him on the phone and asked him to teach me how to use a wood chisel. He would have been glad to oblige. Not that he wouldn’t have made some comment when he saw the zigzags I carved in that once respectable piece of lumber. Oh, he would have had a word or two to say about that.

    I remember helping him tie a tarp over a trailer once when I was a teenager. He quickly finished his side of the trailer and came over to lend me a hand, or maybe just to see what was taking so long. He had been a Boy Scout troop leader for decades, and many summers he spent more than a month taking various troops on week-long canoe trips down Ozark rivers. I had no doubt that he knew every knot in the Scout manual by heart. When he saw my sad, spaghetti-like entanglements, he shook his head. “You were never a scout, were you?” he recalled. He was disappointed for me, with maybe a hint of pity in his voice when he said, “You missed half your life.”

    Why do I remember that moment more than thirty years later? I think it’s because I knew, even as a teenager, that he was a person who said what mattered to him and who knew how a job was supposed to be done, and he took the trouble to do things right. When he turned sixty-five his company was nearly a year away from finishing a 40 story building, so he asked permission to work past retirement age, even though it cost him some pension money. This was the biggest construction job of his life, I believe, and he wanted to finish it. He was proud of doing good work.

    And that’s who I felt looking over my shoulder as I mangled the door frame the other day. I remember the last time I drove past the old house where he and my grandmother lived for most of their sixty-seven year marriage. The place was empty, and one window was boarded up. This was a shocking and tangible sign that they were gone, because neither of them would have let a day pass with a broken or boarded window on their property. They were never rich, but they knew better than to live like that.

    It was natural, I guess, to think of them as I took care of my own old house. But I was surprised to discover that even a bit of home maintenance is so tied up with family history and carries its own psychic weight. And instead of taking my usual competencies for granted, here I am in middle age with a chance to be a beginner again, to recall the good example set by a family elder, and to be ready to learn.

    A Michiana Chronicles essay by Ken Smith, aired April 26, 2002 on 88.1 WVPE. Archived original and other radio essays by K. S.