10 From Transparency toward Expertise: Writing-Across the-Curriculum as a Site for New Collaborations in Organizational, Faculty, and Instructional Development
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This paper will inform readers about a comprehensive approach to collaborative efforts between faculty developers, discipline specific faculty, and writing specialists. Miami University’s Richard T. Farmer School of Business Administration has begun to support a team of writing specialists, led by a faculty developer. This team has worked with business faculty lo build a model of collaboration far using Writing-Across-the-Curriculum that addresses some of the shortcomings of earlier models. This paper recounts the successful use of this new model in one accounting class.
Writing-Across-the-Curriculum (WAC) celebrated its 25th anniversary in 1996, according to Barbara Walvoord (1996), one of its most prominent advocates and leaders. This celebration marks only the latest incarnation of attempts to re-integrate and recuperate what was once at the heart of almost all academic curricula. More interesting, perhaps, than any anniversary the “modern” WAC movement might mark is the question of how writing got out of the curriculum in the first place. David Russell (1991) ascribes writing’s absence from academic disciplines to increasing specialization at the end of the 19th century, the “ideal of research” that came to dominate higher education, and to what Russell calls the “transparency” of rhetoric within individual disciplines.
Russell carefully documents the reasons why “disciplines never acquired a conscious knowledge of the rhetorical conventions they used daily and expected their students to use; hence, the discursive strategies in any given discipline remain ‘transparent,’ so bound up with the activity of the discipline and acquired so subtly in the learning of the discipline that they are rarely thought of as writing instruction” (p. 17). Because apprentices learn written conventions gradually and as a part of their socialization into a disciplinary community, the process of learning to write these conventions seems invisible, common-sensical, or “transparent.” When students struggle with these conventions, faculty have tended to view their struggle as lack of writing ability, which may be attributable to sheer ignorance on the part of the students or to a failure of writing specialists to do their jobs properly. Moreover, Russell blames the absence of writing from the curriculum (beyond first-year composition courses) on the isolation of faculty from one another in the modern university: “The isolation [of new academic specializations] required that people continually talk past each other, failing to listen to what others were really saying. . . . [The modern university] required barriers to frank communication which are stylized into courtesy. . . . [We are] tacitly obeying the need to fail to communicate” (p. 23).
This collaborative essay tells a story about making that rhetoric less transparent and more explicit for students in an introductory accounting class during the 1996-1997 academic year. But it also tells a story about how collaboration across disciplines helps faculty as well as students understand how learning and language are inextricably connected. We offer our experience as collaborators from different disciplines in the context of current debates about the place of writing instruction in college curricula, about disciplinary integrity, and about the possibility of interdisciplinary cooperation. Finally, this essay suggests that an integration of faculty, instructional, and organizational development offers the best chance for lasting change in writing-across-the-curriculum.
WAC’s COLLABORATIVE AND DEVELOPMENTAL MODELS
WAC has always relied on collaborative, interdisciplinary efforts among faculty, and its 25 year history reveals the tensions that accompany any effort at cooperation across academic departments. In chronicling WAC’s recent history, researchers identify three main “stages” through which it has passed. Most of these histories focus on how definitions of effective writing have changed over the years; in summarizing this history here, we want to highlight two aspects of WAC: (1) the models for interdisciplinary collaboration that underlie changes in cross-disciplinary writing instruction and (2) the ways that each model seeks to make transparent rhetoric more visible for students and disciplinary faculty.
WAC began as a response to a perceived problem—that students were not writing well enough, or often enough, beyond the first-year required composition course. The earliest efforts to remedy this problem (the “First Stage” 1970-1980) relied on the use of informal “writing-to-learn.” Writing specialists from English departments typically invited faculty from other disciplines to workshops designed to showcase how writing, mostly informal writing, could help students learn course material necessary to accomplish disciplinary course goals. Class journals, personal response papers, and attention to processes of writing (drafts of papers, revision strategies) mark this version of the WAC movement. Such workshops were usually “successful” in helping faculty outside of English see how writing could help students learn. However, without changes in institutional structures and rewards, faculty often had difficulty sustaining the kinds of changes suggested, since these early methods were not connected to disciplinary content or goals. Moreover, this first-stage model cast the English professor in the role of missionary: WAC consultants described themselves as “strangers in strange lands” (McCarthy, 1987) sent to distant, exotic, and dangerous shores to convert the natives without engaging in collaborative inquiry with disciplinary professors. These initial efforts did little to combat what Russell (1991) describes as the tendency of academics to see writing as a single, elementary skill, a “transparent recording of speech or thought or physical reality, rather than a complex rhetorical activity, embedded in the differentiated practices of academic discourse communities” (p. 9).
In the “Second Stage” of WAC (1980-1990) attention shifted back toward the disciplines and possible ways of making writing a permanent part of all departments. Called “writing-in-the-disciplines,” rather than writing-to-learn, in this stage of WAC, writing specialists recruited disciplinary faculty and together they began to investigate, for example, what writing “well” in economics might mean, apart from writing-to-learn the material being taught in economics. In this model, writing specialists learned from disciplinary faculty how writing worked in particular disciplines and from there devised ways to introduce students to those conventions. This later stage in WAC moved a bit closer to helping both writing specialists and disciplinary faculty together look more closely at how writing shapes disciplinary knowledge. But, as Russell (1991) explains, faculty tend to speak different languages, both with each other and with the students:
The transparency of rhetoric in the disciplines makes it much more difficult for faculty to see and intervene in the students’ socialization into the discipline. . . . [The] instructor has been so gradually and thoroughly socialized into the symbolic universe of the discipline that he often cannot see or understand why others, who are writing about the same “content,” do not “make sense.” Though the students may understand the “facts,” they may not understand the essential rhetorical structures: specialized lines of argument, vocabulary, organizational conventions, tacit understanding of what must be stated and what assumed—in short, the culture of the discipline that gives meaning to the facts (p. 18).
Although writing-in-the-disciplines helped disciplinary professors begin to pay attention to the rhetorical structures of their disciplines, many remained unconvinced that the investment of time and energy in teaching those structures resulted in increased student learning of the material. Writing specialists, too, became frustrated by this model’s limited attention to form and stylistic structures too often separated from a study of the disciplinary culture.
The chroniclers of WAC’s history have either told the story of these stages in evolutionary terms, with writing-in-the-disciplines replacing writing-to-learn, or they have described these movements as oppositional theories that cannot usefully co-exist. As Flynn, Remlinger, and Biulleit (1997) describe it,
Writing to learn is often seen as hopelessly romantic and individualistic in its conception of the writer as an isolated individual who must be released from the fetters of institutional constraints. Writing in the disciplines is often seen as hopelessly conservative in its conception of learning as a matter of internalizing the relatively stable conventions of a relatively stable discourse community (p. 360).
These authors posit a new model of “interactionalism,” and the term echoes the latest research in WAC, suggesting that these two approaches need not be in conflict. Kirscht, Levine, and Reiff (1994) posit a new model of WAC that not only helps students learn a discipline but also demands that they study the epistemological and rhetorical conventions and foundations of the field. This “Third Stage” suggests that a “rhetoric of inquiry” approaches the disciplines as “centers of inquiry” (p. 374). Instead of seeing the teaching of the memo or lab report, for example, as a static, fixed form, this new view would use the study of the form—both writing it and writing about it—as a way both to learn the disciplinary content and to place it within disciplinary and professional contexts. In other words, such a “rhetoric of inquiry” makes discourse conventions less transparent, more visible:
If conventions are seen as rhetorical, as the ways that questions are asked and answers sought in a given field, writing becomes a way not only to interact with declarative knowledge, but also to develop procedural knowledge concerning that field—to learn how knowledge has been constructed as well as what knowledge is. WAC thus becomes a way into the inquiry practices of the field (Kirsch, Levine, & Reiff, 1994, p. 374).
In other words, helping students integrate their learning into the rhetorical structures of the discipline collapses the false distinction between learning-to-write and writing-to-learn a particular body of knowledge.
These debates about the methods and purposes of WAC and the possibility of maintaining disciplinary goals while collaborating across disciplines play out in real contexts, in actual classrooms, and among real-live colleagues (Walvoord, 1997). WAC is always, first, a collaborative enterprise. The next section of this essay describes how three people collaborated to design, teach, and understand how one particular writing assignment might accomplish these interactive goals: learning accounting, learning how accountants communicate in actual business contexts, and understanding how the rhetoric of that communication contributes to the knowledge being learned. To accomplish these goals, we relied on individual, departmental, and institutional structures of development. At each level, we worked to make our individual, disciplinary assumptions less transparent and more accessible to each other and to the students whom we were trying to teach.
LOCAL CONTEXT
The collaboration we document here was part of the Howe Writing Initiative, a collaborative project among faculty, graduate, and undergraduate students in the department of English and School of Business Administration. Its goal is to enhance the quality of student writing and the teaching of writing in the School of Business. Institutionally, this effort is supported by the Howe Professorate in Written Communication, an interdisciplinary tenured position endowed by generous alumni. Organizationally, this professorship means long-term commitment to writing resources, including support for graduate assistants who work within the framework of the Howe Initiative. Instructionally, this initiative provides in-house writing consultation to all business faculty, year in and year out, meaning that faculty development relies not on one-time workshops or teaching experiments, but on continual conversation, observation, and collaboration. Yet the Howe Writing Initiative is not a top-down mandate; faculty support for this initiative has been shown through its adoption as a school-wide plan for integrating writing across the School of Business Curriculum. As the Howe Professor, a faculty member in a particular discipline, and a graduate assistant writing specialist, we offer the following as an example of that integration in one particular course during one particular semester.
COLLABORATING ON WRITING AND ACCOUNTING
In response to calls for educational reform in the discipline, the department of accountancy began a lengthy process of curriculum reform. Among the changes incorporated into the new curriculum was the call for writing in many of the revised courses in order to fulfill recommendations for writing across the curriculum. These recommendations were part of the curricular changes that led to the Howe Writing Initiative.
Principles of Accounting, a required introductory course for all School of Business students, was one of the courses in which writing was mandated. The Accounting professor assigned to this course had used some informal writing assignments in the past as part of various cooperative learning structures. However, he soon realized that the WAC mandate seemed to oblige a more formal project. In the past, the professor had found the traditional term paper to be mostly a waste of student time and an anathema in terms of grading requirements. He thus sought a fresh approach. In the midst of this planning, the Howe Professor learned of the assignment and assigned one of the Howe writing specialists to assist with its planning and implementation.
The Principles of Accounting class consists primarily of sophomore college students. For the most part, these students have never before been exposed to any concepts of accounting or finance. Most come to the course completely naive as to the purposes or processes of business organizations. Therefore, a writing assignment that encourages students to engage in the vocabulary and rhetoric of accounting, the language of business, can enhance their understanding of the discipline.
Accounting has, indeed, been described as the language of business. As such it seeks to view events that occur in the business community and translate these events into financial information useful to readers. Therefore, the Principles of Accounting course should educate business students about the language of the business community in much the same way that a student who wishes to travel in a foreign land would be educated about that country’s language. The better one understands the language of any community, the better that person can understand the community culture. In the business community this understanding can define the line between success and failure. The question, therefore, is how a writing assignment can enhance student understanding of accounting, the language of business.
The accounting professor and the Howe writing specialist came to realize that the assignment would have greater value if the “transparency” problem raised by Russell (1991) could be overcome. One obvious avenue for making the transparency of writing in accountancy more overt for students lay in exploiting the fact that the course focuses upon teaching financial accounting from the perspective of the user, as opposed to the preparer, of financial statements. Obviously students needed to learn how to analyze financial statements. A person entering the business community must have the ability to read and interpret financial information by using the tools of financial analysis. Yet the actual use of these tools remains for most students an abstract exercise. No matter how much the professor insists that students think like a user, the impact of financial analysis typically remains transparent and tacit for most students (and professors) since students usually write simply to demonstrate to their teachers that they have mastered the necessary tools and information. One way to teach students the impact of financial analysis was to make the user less transparent and more overt.
The professor and the writing specialist decided to have the students write the assignment in groups in which they would role-play financial advisors writing to clients. For the first paper the client was a bank considering loan applications from two customers in the same industry. The second paper dealt with a client considering an investment in stock. This time students would compare two companies in different industries. The financial statements the students analyzed were real-world ones from companies chosen by the accounting professor. The professor and the writing specialist agreed that for the writing assignment to be effective, the students should write two papers. In this way they could improve the second paper based on the feedback they received on the first one.
These two types of audiences have differing needs from the accounting point of view. Investors in debt securities are more concerned with risk relative to return. Investors in equity securities focus their attention on growth. If the assignment were successful in motivating student learning as they wrote, they would begin to discern the rhetoric of the accounting discipline. Successful papers would intelligently discuss risk, return, and growth as well as how these concepts could impact future cash flow. These concepts, perhaps transparent to students before they wrestled with the writing assignment, would begin to come into focus.
One indication of student knowledge of a subject can be measured by ability to communicate concepts to someone outside the discipline. The assignment for the second paper stressed that the required memorandum was to be written to a client who was not an accountant. The purpose here was to restrict student use of “buzz words” that could mask lack of conceptual understanding.
THE ROLE OF THE HOWE WRITING SPECIALIST
Early in the process the Howe writing specialist began to learn about the accounting professor’s course, goals, attitudes, and assumptions about writing. She consulted with him about the nature and role of the two papers assigned within the larger context of his course. She also began to serve as a resource to the professor as he assigned, discussed, and evaluated the assignments. Thus the accounting professor could draw upon the writing specialist’s experience assigning, conferencing about, and evaluating student writing to help this assignment be a positive learning experience for both professor and students.
The writing specialist began by studying the syllabus, textbooks, and policies of the course. She also evaluated the initial assignment proposed by the accounting professor. She drew on her own experience composing writing assignments and reading the resulting papers to make some predictions about the likely success of the assignment. She initially felt that the assignment was very well written. It defined a specific audience and explained what both the writer’s and reader’s purposes would be. It listed the elements the memo would need to include in order to accomplish the task and set forth the criteria by which the teacher would evaluate the writing. However, experience had taught the writing specialist that a productive learning experience isn’t ensured by a well-written assignment. The context in which the assignment is given—the other kinds of work the students are used to doing in the course, the professor’s attitudes (often those she is unaware of communicating) toward the subject matter, and significantly, the disparity between the culture of school writing and disciplinary discourse enter to produce various and often unsatisfactory interpretations of even the best assignment.
THE DISCOURSE OF THE DISCIPLINE
Because the writing specialist had little prior knowledge about accounting, she observed classes to get a better understanding of the classroom dynamics, what kinds of discussions went on, etc. She learned several things about the discourse of accounting. She discovered that numbers (just like any evidence) mean different things to different people, depending on their particular theories and agendas. For example, leverage, a measure of risk in a company’s capital structure, can be a positive for an investor seeking growth but a red flag indicator for a creditor. On one occasion the writing specialist expressed to the accounting professor that ratios were not numbers but relationships, an aspect of accounting rhetoric that had previously been transparent to him.
The familiarity of the writing specialist with the nature of disciplinary discourse allowed her to understand some of the expectations of the professor. He wanted to know that the students could perform the correct calculations, correct definitions, etc. But a test can find this out. Why writing? Writing requires that the students use the calculations together to evaluate a particular situation, assigning significance and interpreting the values as good or bad as they applied to the particular scenario, then use these numbers and the explanation of their significance to fashion an argument supporting their recommendation.
On the other hand, her experience with students led her to predict the kinds of written responses they might make to these instructions. Given that this was an accounting course and given students’ experience with “fact or number” courses, including the experience of being tested on their mastery of facts and ability to perform isolated calculations through exams, she reasoned that the students would first interpret the purpose of the assignment to fall in line with the purpose of all the other work in the class—to demonstrate knowledge/mastery. In order to accomplish this task they would react to the written assignment as a checklist, probably writing an isolated paragraph about each ratio or in answer to each question, and having done that, state the “answer” (their recommendation), assuming that the magical numbers and ratios of accounting that they had listed above provided adequate support and explanation. They would probably not see that much of the work the assignment asked them to do was to verbally interpret the ratios’ significance in a larger context and to a particular audience.
As the writing specialist and the accounting professor collaborated together for this project, the awareness of the professor about the importance of discourse was heightened. The professor began to understand several aspects of writing more fully. First, the notion of an audience was consistently raised. He saw that the writing assignments should not just test students’ ability to comprehend accounting, but that these contextual assignments also challenged students to tailor their knowledge to particular purposes and particular audiences. The accounting professor realized that students learned more when their instruction included discussions of the rhetoric of the discipline. In other words, the disciplinary professor began to move away from traditional methods of incorporating writing into a content course, where, as Russell (1991) says, “the transparency of writing masks that the rules of the game, are, in many ways, rhetorical; written discourse plays an important (at some points, crucial) role in professional advancement” (p. 18).
The accounting professor began to grasp the concept of transparency. At first transparency appeared positive to him, that is, synonymous with clarity. But through dialog with the writing specialist, he began to understand that in writing, transparency could mean that students were using words without really understanding their meaning. Thus they were missing the key point from the accounting perspective, to understand the language of business. As the professor and the writing specialist worked together to craft the assignment, they attempted to ensure that students would “see” the language they were using.
In order to operate on more than just assumption, the accounting professor asked his students to write down the questions they had about the assignment. He then collected these answers and gave them to the writing specialist. Although the assignment had been very specific about format requirements, the majority of the questions revealed that the students were having a hard time imagining what writing in accounting should look like. The things they thought they would be “graded on” were surface characteristics. They did not have a picture of themselves as making an argument.
The writing specialist visited the class and walked the students through her reading of the assignment. She expressed to them that it was okay not to know immediately how to write the assignment but that a consideration of their purpose and their audiences’ needs could answer most of their questions, including format and surface features. She explained how to make educated guesses about audience needs and appropriate format choices.
SECOND-STAGE COLLABORATION
After the students had written and handed in the papers, the collaboration between the accounting professor and the writing specialist moved onto another plane. The writing specialist and the accounting professor decided to read the same set of papers separately and to rank them in order of strongest to weakest. They compared their impressions and were able to use examples from the students’ writing to enhance their discussion. While they did not always esteem the same things, they mostly agreed on the ranges, and through their discussion each educated the other about what they valued as very different readers.
As they worked together, the writing specialist was able to clarify to the accounting professor what it was that he liked or disliked in the papers. In other words, the accounting professor began to discern the lens through which he viewed the writing. They worked together to develop descriptions of the characteristics of papers in the middle and lower range as well as the upper range papers (Appendix 1). Through this collaborative effort, the accounting professor began to recognize the rhetoric of his discipline in a very different and more precise way. The writing specialist helped the accounting professor transfer his ideas about the papers to the students through concise comments that listed a few positive aspects of the papers along with recommendations for improvements.
Perhaps the most important outcome of this collaboration was that the accounting professor felt much more capable of evaluating his students’ writing, as he saw that his own knowledge of disciplinary discourse could guide his judgment of the effectiveness of the papers for intended audiences. While the writing specialist could not have served as a competent grader for the assignment, she could help the accounting professor describe features of the paper. She was also able to suggest some of the conflicts or gaps that students were not able to resolve because of their limited experience using the language of business. Through increased understanding of the rhetoric of accounting, students gained an appreciation that even within the framework of a class in which there seemed to be straightforward and definite answers, much depended on the surrounding context.
SUCCESS OF THE PROJECT
The collaboration we’ve described participates in all levels of professional development. Of course the accounting professor engaged in “faculty development” when he began to work with the writing specialist and as he began to see how teaching the rhetoric of accounting could help his students learn its methods and concepts; however, the writing specialist was also challenged and “developed” as she learned how accountants communicate and worked to help make the rhetoric of accounting less transparent for both teacher and students. And this project also is part of a larger instructional development project; currently, every section of introductory accounting assigns these two memos to students. Moreover, the collaborative work surrounding this writing assignment now serves as a model for other departments, which, as part of the Howe Writing Initiative, are developing new writing assignments for their courses. This collaboration between individuals, then, was also supported by, and in turn influences, the School of Business Administration’s commitment to leading the next stage of Writing-Across-the-Curriculum. Russell (1991) says that “unless spurred by external pressures, disciplines have not found it necessary to examine, much less improve, the way students are initiated into their respective symbolic universes. Given the lack of incentives in specialized structures of reward, writing instruction in the disciplines has tended to remain an informal and largely unconscious dimension of disciplinary teaching, a transparent part of business as usual” (p. 18). Our collaborative project succeeded in large part because the institutional context mandated a change from business as usual and provided individual support and organizational structures that helped formalize the work of making the tacit and transparent assumptions about writing more visible and useful for everyone, including the students.
The students learned that writing enhanced their learning of accounting, but they also learned that accounting is more than numbers, that accounting knowledge must be used rhetorically. When asked in a follow-up study to this project about their reactions to these writing assignments, students responded with sophisticated reflections on the connection between rhetorical and disciplinary knowledge. For example, 35 out of 42 students surveyed named introductory accounting as the course with the “most helpful writing assignment this semester.” They explained why:
The group project in accounting tied writing—professional business writing—to what we learned in class.
I liked the ARP projects. They made the concepts and terms easier to understand because they were used with real companies. Also, to be able to write the paper well, you had to fully understand the concepts.
The ARP projects were most helpful because they encouraged us to truly understand the information we were learning and apply it to real world situations.
The ARP reports allowed me to do some common business writing and professionally relate my knowledge to real audiences. This class emphasized writing techniques more than any other I’ve had in Business.
The writing specialist also interviewed students to get a fuller picture of what they had learned from these assignments. Excerpts from these conversations show even more clearly how students had been able to see and use the transparent connection between writing and knowledge:
Writing seemed unusual in accounting but it really helped me learn. This was a very long report, so it got you really practicing a lot of writing and thinking like an accountant. I think that was very helpful—it made you convert from a different type of thing to this thing. It was looking at a table of numbers and then trying to convert that into words. I think it was a pretty unusual thing, but it really helped overall.
Another thing I just remembered that was important was that each report we had to do was from a different perspective, not just writing from the student’s perspective.
There was a lot besides the writing that went into these reports. I think that since you are writing these memos to potential investors, it’s kind of like you’re writing them for yourself because you don’t know much about it and you’re trying to explain it to someone else. When you had to prioritize and figure out what you need in those three pages and what was important, that also aided in learning accounting because you’re like “Well, what is really important to this reader?” and that’s what I want in these three pages.
Considering the needs of particular readers is a clear indication that students are learning to make the transparent more overt, learning to think like experts.
REFLECTIONS ON COLLABORATIONS: BECOMING EXPERTS
A rhetoric of inquiry is aimed at making what’s tacit, assumed, and transparent about disciplinary discourse more visible—both for students who must learn it, and for teachers who often don’t know how to teach it. Academic writing has too often been confined only to school exercises, such as essay exam answers or research reports. In these exercises, the teacher serves as the sole audience for student writing, and the demonstration of knowledge, not communication, as the sole purpose for writing. Traditionally, writing is modeled in academic settings as the container or package for the content or knowledge that students acquire in their courses: writing occurs after thinking; information is put into writing according to prescribed formulas and rules learned through imitation. Our experience suggests another model for academic writing: immersion in contexts that require real communication.
Geisler (I994) suggests that this kind of situated knowledge distinguishes an expert from a novice. Geisler defines an “expert,” first, as someone who is able to abstract from what she calls “domain content representation” and is also able to “adapt abstractions to case specific data.” These two abilities—abstraction and application—lead to expertise, but there is another, connecting factor that Geisler insists is an essential part of expertise—rhetorical awareness.
In other words, it’s not enough to know your subject or to be able to relate abstractions to specific cases; you must also know how, when, where, to whom, and why to communicate that knowledge. Geisler’s study shows that most students develop “domain content” expertise—the ability to work with more and more abstract representations of the “problem space” of disciplines and to apply these abstractions to particular data or cases—during their undergraduate years. But they are not yet experts, because during this time the “rhetorical problem space remains basically naive” and “knowledge still has no rhetorical dimension” (p. 87). For example, a student may comprehend the concept of financial leverage but be unable to use that concept effectively to convince a client about the risk of investing in a highly leveraged firm.
Geisler blames academics’ tendency to present (and to view) texts (and textbooks) as “autonomous,” or transparent, existing without context, silent containers of information with no agenda of their own. Students tend to view their professors, their lectures, and their classes in much the same way: as transparent sources of knowledge. However, usually somewhere after undergraduate school—either on the job or in graduate studies—students begin to see these kinds of texts and sources differently, as documents in context, with authors who have agendas, claims that can be argued and refuted, and styles that tell much about hierarchical relationships. This awareness, finally, that people write “not simply to say things, but to do things: to persuade, to argue, to excuse” (Geisler, p. 87), blends with disciplinary knowledge and leads to expertise. It is not enough, then, to learn the concepts and tools of a discipline (knowing that). One must be able to use and apply and communicate that knowledge in particular (knowing how, why, when, and for whom). That’s what we think our work together has helped us to do—transform our separate, transparent knowledge into collective, overt expertise that is useful for us, our students, and, we hope, other faculty who not only want to help students write more effectively but to learn how writing and disciplinary knowledge are intimately and usefully connected.
The larger lesson for faculty developers in general is to mobilize collaborations between skill-based experts and disciplinary faculty across their respective fields. Faculty developers must maintain an awareness of tacit transparent assumptions embedded in disciplinary knowledge. Creating and supporting initiatives such as the one we have described enable faculty, their colleagues, and their students to move from transparency to expertise.
REFERENCES
- Flynn, E., Remlinger, K, & Biulleit, W. (1997). Interaction across the curriculum. Journal of Advanced Composition, 17 (3), 343-361.
- Geisler, C. (1994). Academic literacy and the nature of expertise: Reading, writing, and knowing in academic philosophy. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum.
- Kirscht, J., Levine R., & Reiff, J. (1994). Evolving paradigms: WAC and the rhetoric of inquiry. College Composition and Communication, 45 (3), 369-380.
- McCarthy, L. (1987). A stranger in strange lands: A college student writes across the curriculum. Research in the Teaching ofEnglish, 21, 233-265.
- Russell, D. (1991). Writing in the academic disciplines, 1870-1990: A curricular history. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press.
- Walvoord, B. (1996). The future of writing across the curriculum. College English, 58 (1), 58-79.
- Walvoord, B. (1997). In the long run: A study of faculty in three writing-across-the-curriculum programs. Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English.
Contact:
Philip G. Cottell,Jr.
Department of Accountancy
Miami University
Oxford, OH 45056
(513) 529-6214
(513) 529-4740 (FAX)
Philip G. Cottell, Jr. is Professor of Accountancy at Miami University. He has served as coordinator of Miami University’s Senior Faculty/Program for Teaching Excellence. This fall he will be leading a new learning community centered on cooperative learning. He and Barbara Millis are co-authors of Cooperative Learning for Higher Education Faculty (ORYX Press).
Serena Hansen graduated from Miami University with a Ph.D. in English in May 1999.
Kate Ronald is the Roger and Joyce L. Howe Professor of English at Miami University. She teaches graduate and undergraduate courses in composition and rhetoric. She works with faculty in the Richard T. Farmer School of Business to improve the teaching of writing.
APPENDIX 10.1
GRADING CRITERIA
Demonstrate awareness of audience.
The best papers specify an audience with specific investing goals and requirements.
Demonstrate clear understanding of purpose.
The best papers provide meaningful context for conclusions based upon financial analysis.
Organize with audience and purpose clearly in mind.
The best papers prioritize information important to the reader through headings, subheadings, and appendices.
Write in a concise, clear business language.
The best papers use active voice, strong verbs, and easily readable prose.
Prepare final copy in professional form and style.
The best papers demonstrate careful proofreading and attention to conventional business formats.