| I can think of
no better way to introduce my ENG 605 teaching portfolio than to
include "Writing and Riding," an excerpt from my essay
"Miscellaneous Horse Stories," which was published in the Ozark
Dressage Society Newsletter. I feel this is an appropriate way to
introduce my portfolio because the story weaves together two of my
great passions--horses and writing. There is a fine line of demarcation between what I do everyday and my chosen creative outlet. I can’t help but draw analogies between the two. This is intrinsic in my nature—the inability to completely let go of the work I do, which besides writing is the teaching of writing. I like to find parallels. The idea of comparative mythologies—the underlying similarities between religions and the ancients—fascinates me. Are there parallels between dressage and writing? I think so. At my only second dressage show in October 2002, I realized those parallels as I stood with my future trainer. A horse can be beautiful, and execute a seemingly flawless performance in the ring, but there is something—that inexplicable something—that is missing. That something is oomph—a naughtiness or cheekiness—that when properly constrained translates into sparkle in the show ring. In grading a freshman essay, I can have in front of me a paper that is close to technically flawless with no glaring grammatical or mechanical errors. We composition instructors all hope for that, but rarely is it given to us. Still, in looking at this essay that is free of grammatical and mechanical errors, there is something missing, something I can’t quite put my finger on, but I have to, because I am the instructor, and I have to justify a grade. That something lacking is voice and style—that indescribable something you recognize when you read it which separates an “A” paper from a “B” paper. There is also the incessant process of revising and editing, both in dressage and writing. In dressage, the revision and editing process takes place in the form of training, and the persistent quest for perfection. Dressage people are happy with one or two good steps during a training session, in the hopes that those few steps will continue on to four or five good steps at some point in the future. So it is with writing. You have occasional flashes of brilliance from your students, something that indicates there is more there than meets the eye. As an instructor, you push, you coddle, and you cajole in an attempt to bring out more flashes of brilliance in your students’ writing. It is a continual progression for both students—horse and human. Both dressage and the teaching of writing is an ongoing process. You have the brainstorming, the search for ideas. In dressage, it is the finding of a horse with the potential to either become a champion or simply take the rider to a comfortable level. In writing, brainstorming develops ideas--and the writer also needs to reflect on whether they are going to be a serious writer, or they are simply going to get through the course. How much effort does the student want to put into their writing? I used to have the savior mentality. I was convinced I would impart on each of my students a love of writing--the metaphorical touching of the star-tipped wand gently to their shoulders and--poof--magic. But writing is much more substantive than magic, and students are not easily swayed by the lure of writing. I don't want any of my students to slip through the cracks, but you can only reach who you reach. It is difficult to convince a student who, depending upon the university they are attending, will enroll in one to three composition courses that writing is an important part of their life. How does an instructor convince a student of this? What student do theorists talk about as they spout their rhetoric? How much of an impact do we as composition instructors actually make in the lives of our students? Do we just keep on keepin' on? Yes. Because we will reach some students. We will be a major influence in some of our students' lives. And believe it or not, some of our students will leave our classes and carry with them for the rest of their lives what they have learned in our classes. We do what we do as composition and rhetoric instructors because we love writing and we care about humanity, and the ability to truly reach one or two students each semester makes everything worthwhile. |