Okay, I tried. I
really and truly tried. It's just not in
my destiny to be tactful.
A couple of weeks ago I posted a huge diatribe on the grad
school blog. I basically insulted the
professor and her mentor all with one huge swipe of the computer keys. I tried to stop myself, I really did. Oh, who the hell am I shitting. Of course I didn't try to stop myself. I hit post
so damn fast that I injured my index finger.
Now it's research paper writing time. I intend to write a smarmy little paper about
voice and how to use it in writing and how to grade it across the
curriculum. A standard, uninspiring,
methodical little piece of pabulum with footnotes and a bibliography. Yup.
That's my intention, or it was when I sat down this morning at the
computer. Seriously, I mean no
malcontent.
Voice, you idiot,
stick with voice; a nice, safe, researchable topic. Voice.
Listen to this voice inside your head telling you to just write the damn
paper already. Safe. Topic.
Vooooooice.
Somehow, though, by the second paragraph, I am running at
the mouth again, fingers madly typing away, all attempts at staying on topic a
miserable failure, a complete and total crash and burn. I am back on my soapbox, and I am
eviscerating the very subject matter I am studying in the course. I am taking the professor's pride and joy,
her lifeblood, her entire philosophy, adding some sulfuric acid, and watching
the smoke rise.
Dumbass. You stupid fool! You're going to fail. You're going to offend her and you're going
to end up getting booted out of the program.
Stop what you're doing! Get back
on topic! Voice, damnit!
I like the writing process - it's linear and has steps and
makes sense to even the most uninitiated writer amongst us. On the other hand, I despise Process Writing,
its ugly precursor, the mother that birthed the defective triplets Whole
Language, Self-Expressive Writing, and Creative Spelling; Process Writing, the
Grammar Grendel of its time. I guess
that makes me a bit like Beowulf coming to Grammar's rescue. Okay, maybe not. But I can pretend. It's my research paper.
I found out recently that the professor's mentor, a writing
theorist by the name of Peter Elbow (The Man With Two Body Parts For a Name),
actively engaged in 1960's-1970's civil disobedience that resulted in a whole
lot of entitled college students escaping from selective service in Vietnam and
a whole bunch of other young men having to take their places. Lest you think I supported the Vietnam Conflict,
you would be wrong. As a matter of fact,
even at a young, impressionable age, I was a conscientious objector to war on
principle. The more I learned about
Vietnam as I matured, the more I hated that we ever went there. Maybe it was because my neighbors had dreaded
draft cards, and I remember their brothers and sisters and parents speaking in
hushed, anxious, worried tones while they waited for the draft numbers to come
up.
Two weeks ago I stumbled across the information that this
writing teacher, Peter Elbow, a theorist I had studied for decades, conducted
college seminars on how to craft a bullshit conscientious objector essay. The purpose of these essays was not because
anyone objected, but rather to keep certain kids (Ivy Leaguers, mostly) from
serving while forcing others (blue collar young men) to take their places. For some reason, I did and still do find this
elitist scam to be reprehensible. I
didn't want anyone to go over there, but to actively use one's position as a
trusted adult, teacher, and advisor by spreading one's own political agenda to
the select population who could afford to pay for it -- That all just sits
wrong with me. Totally and completely
wrong.
I recall this disgust all over again as my research paper
starts rolling. Without any warning
whatsoever, I am suddenly researching and quoting the Constitution, former
presidents, and any article I can find that demonizes both the nationalization
of our public school curriculum and process writing itself. The professor, clearly a liberal Democrat as
most academics claim to be, is going to shit herself when she reads my
Constitutionalist rant. I will probably
be labeled a Libertarian or worse. I
suppose when one fence-sits as an unenrolled moderate, this is bound to happen
once in a while, usually when the liberal agenda affects how I teach, invades
my classroom, and controls my curriculum.
I'm pissed off, I'm editorializing, and I'm letting the shit
fly. The one thing I cannot seem to do
is stop myself. It's like I've been
angry about this since the 1970's, and I'm just figuring it out now. I'm angry at every whole language teacher,
I'm angry at every weak school system that fell for the latest flash-in-the-pan
writing system, and I am, apparently still really ticked off about the Vietnam
Conflict.
Here's your voice, research paper. It's my angry voice. It's my disgusted voice. It's my "too old to be writing research
papers about stuff from the 1970's" voice, and I'm sorry. I tried.
I really and truly tried to keep it bottled up, but it just wouldn't stay. Holding back my opinion is like trying to
stem the tides at Plum Island during a brutal Nor'Easter: You'd be smarter boarding up your house and
getting the fuck out of the way.
Voice? Hello?
Is anyone listening? Oh, damnit,
she's off on another diatribe. God help
us, she's a lovely girl, but she's going to fail this class. Oh well.
We tried to warn her. Damn
Heliand. She never listens, but she's
always got something to say. That's
voice in a nutshell. A+!
