Keeping Kids in School?

In her address to the CCCC, "Made not only in words: Composition in a new key," Kathleen Blake Yancey claimed that enrollment for college-level freshman students was at an all time high. Unfortunately, that statistic did not translate into an all time high of graduating students. According to Yancey, only 28%, less than a third of incoming freshman finish their four-year degrees (306). Curious to know why that is, I conducted a little experiment with my freshman comp students. I had five of my twenty students stand; then I told the class to take a good look around. "Best case scenario," I said, "these are the only people who will stay in college long enough to graduate." Then I asked my students to tell me why they were dropping out. Some said tuition was too high and students couldn't afford to stay in school. But when I asked the students how many of them received scholarships or grant money, or how many of them had their tuition paid for them by their parents, an overwhelming number of them raised their hands. "Okay," I said, "so money isn't the issue. What is?" Some said courses were too demanding and that it was hard to keep on top of the work. So I asked them, "How many of you feel you have too much work to do?" One or two students raised their hands. "So that's not it--what's the problem?" Some of them said that they didn't feel prepared for the work they had to do, so I asked, "How many of you felt that your highschools prepared you for college-level work." No one raised their hand. Now we're getting somewhere, I thought. "So highschools aren't preparing students for college--that's one issue. What else?" One of my students said, "College doesn't mean the same for everybody. I know a lot of people who are here just to be here." "Interesting," I replied, "How many of you are here because it seemed like the next thing to do after highschool, or because your parents told you you had to go to college?" Almost every student raised his/her hand. In her speech to the CCCC, Yancey claimed that the 80s saw a change in the way people thought about college. She said, "The U.S. began moving away from the view than college is good for the country, a view that enfranchises all of us, and began shifting toward the view that higher education is good for the individual" (304). There is a feeling, among the members of the credit card generation, that everyone is entitled to a college education, but is that really true? Should college be available to minorities and members of the lower classes? Absolutely. But what about those students who don't want to be there, who don't work hard to better themselves? Is it my fault, or the fault of any freshman level instructor that they choose to leave college behind for greener pastures? I agree with Yancey that we should provide our students with the skills they need to succeed in the outside world--even those students who drop out. But I think the problem with college drop out rates goes deeper than that. Parents need to realize that their college-age children are adults and allow them to decide what is best for them. Young adults need to take responsibility for themselves, financially and educationally. And highschools need to provide a well-rounded education for their students. The American work ethic is not what it used to be, and people expect to get without giving. When they fail, they're ready to blame anyone but themselves for that failure. Should we do what we can to improve as educators? Definitely, but the buck stops with the individual. Clearly, the problem with college enrollment has less to do with what we teach in the classroom than it does with the downward shift in social ideology.

Performance Anxiety

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I have what can only be described as a sarcastic wit. My extensive vocabulary gives me the ability to play on words and when those words are performed aloud before a live studio audience--who has the added benefit of seeing my facial expressions and hearing my sardonic tone--the results can be hilarious. Unfortunately, that sarcasm rarely translates into my writing. One of my worst memories is writing an email to a college professor that I had a somewhat informal relationship with (emphasis on the word had). In the email, I chastised him for bragging about spending his summer traveling through Europe while I sweltered in summer classes. To make a long story short--he didn't get the joke. When I told this story to some friends of mine they asked, "Why didn't you just use one of those little smiley faces?" Damn, I thought, why didn't I use one of those smiley faces?
Because I thought it was obvious. I could hear my voice in my head as I composed that email and thought--this is funny. Moreover, I always think of emoticons as informal, unprofessional, even embarrassing. Why should I care if the smiley was unprofessional when I was already writing an unprofessional letter? I didn't consider my writing as a sort of "performance." For me, writing and speaking were two distinctly different acts. That's why I find "Performing Writing, Performing Literacy" so interesting. When they write for comp classes, students write in a vacuum. They rarely see what Fishman (et. all) call the "purposefulness" of writing in a class setting. By combining performance with writing, students may learning to write interestingly and interestedly (230). If they perform their work, they are forced to consider their audience. It is our jobs as instructors then to show them how to channel performance into the written word.
I, for one, have learned my lesson. I keep professional letters strictly professional, but when I need that extra flare, I bring out the emoticon. :)