From the Parlor to the Classroom: An Undergraduate Perspective

By the end of our first week in class, we have already situated ourselves into two camps: the bright eyed, just-declared English majors who will likely stay in the discipline and flourish come junior year, and the not-so-English-inclined, albeit brilliant, minds who might rather spend their time creating elaborate descriptions as to why they skipped most of their general education literature requirement instead of spending the same time attempting to make sense of Sylvia Plath's equally elaborate (and, likely, just as dark) but far less obvious descriptions. Those in the first camp desperately plead with those in the latter for help when their liberal arts math final comes along. But in the literature classroom, our math- and science-minded companions, in particular, tend to be at a disadvantage. This has nothing to do with personal capability, or even subject preference. Instead, the problem is with literary pedagogy, as it exists in today's classroom.

As an undergraduate student, entertaining pursuit of both English and education, I sit in class noticing the members of each camp slowly reveal their identification of choice. An excited student asks her deskmate if she also noticed "alllll the overt symbolism in the piece." English. Across the room, barely distinguishable from the sigh of frustration blanketing it, a quietly uttered, "Sooo, did you even read this?" accompanies an eye roll a teenager would be proud of. Definitely not English. I sit in class noticing my peers inadvertently presenting their needs that will go unmet, realizing there are people in this class who will not actually come to a personal connection with the work they are about to do for the next fifteen weeks. I sit in class wondering what I would do, what I will do when I am in the shoes of the faculty member droning on at the head of our class. How can we effectively teach both form and function when it comes to literature? What does it mean to motivate a student who has not established a reason for reading and interpreting literature that supersedes merely passing the class? Is it even possible to teach strategy without reducing or limiting literary form?

Two scholars advocating for improvement within the field have compiled their years of research based findings in Digging into Literature: Strategies for Reading, Analysis, and Writing (2016), a textbook coauthored by Joanna Wolfe and Laura Wilder, building upon Wilder's initial examinations in the monograph Rhetorical Strategies and Genre Conventions in Literary Studies: Teaching and Writing in the Disciplines (2012). Choosing to view instructional reform as a necessary improvement rather than obligatory ideal, Wolfe and Wilder have published a modern textbook that ought to be recognized, analyzed, employed, and built upon in the conversation about pedagogical refinement. From its preface onward, Digging into Literature accomplishes what it claims it will do: venture to make the implicit explicit, promote the necessity of close reading skills, supply an experiential approach, make analysis accessible, revitalize and embolden weary writers, and provide flexible options for the application of textual strategies. Smaller in size and shorter in length than the archetypal textbook model, it is user friendly, written in plain English, and clearly navigable by today's e-book-disposed student. It is far from overwhelming and samples historic and influential literary work, which students are encouraged to interact with, engage, and use for creating writing exercises. The book poses three major discussions: the use of appropriate scaffolding techniques, teaching purpose and process, and the argumentative rhetoric of literary interpretation.

By holding out on major declaration as long as the registrar's office would allow it, I managed to avoid placing myself in either of the camps I noticed surfacing in the classroom. Finally, once I deleted a shameful stream of rather coercive e-mails, I chose to become a student of secondary English education. After a few semesters of taking courses that complemented a pedagogy-intensive degree plan, I became frustrated enough with the lack of required English-content courses that I resolved to do something about it. Declaring English as a second...