At Sea with Multilingualism

I’d like to talk about Trimbur’s article in this post in regards to a couple things: first, my thoughts on Trimbur’s ideas for incorporating multilingualism into classrooms and, second (and probably in a separate—but parallel post due to time constraints—the connection with Prof. Dillon’s transatlantic Print Culture class.

In his final section, Trimbur explains that because English is “the unquestioned medium of instruction and the vernacular of modernity” it has lead to a “relentless monolinguilism of American linguistic culture” (37). But, what he does in this section (which I really enjoy) is argue that we need to find—and incorporate—better “linguistic resources” to encourage a multilingual literacy that will affect educational curriculum in both material and programmatic ways (38). Trimbur is looking for a space—physical and metaphorical—to bring languages into contact with each other. I’m thinking about this idea in terms of something he said earlier in the essay—that ships were “means of communication” in the Atlantic world but also the site of communication; ships transportated language and acted as a physical space that fostered this exchange as well (31).

Trimbur obviously looks to schools as the site of a new linguistic exchange, which can be used to promote multilingualism, and I want to extend this idea [wait for it…all you who know me] to a classroom which uses service-learning. I’m really interested in the idea of a service-learning classroom (*note- when I say “classroom” in this context, I believe that S-L necessitates interaction outside of the classroom as well and should be a part of this!) that functions as a “contact zone” or a place of interaction “between persons of different and multiple identities, speakers of different languages” (qtd on 5). If we look at service-learning classrooms projects (perhaps oral histories or projects that draw attention to previously marginalized issues like homelessness, abuse, illiteracy, etc), I think that many of these projects lend themselves to a multilingual approach.

Trimbur ends his essay advocating for “multiple languages and multiple Englishes [to be put] into circulation as means of participating in public life and as linguistic resources of reciprocal exchange” (40). And, I see this “reciprocal exchange” come to life in a service-learning environment. For instance, when doing a S-L project on homelessness, it is essential that students participate in the learning rather than being the saviors from the ivory tower who go out and help the world with its woes. Instead, students need to understand what is going on that causes this homelessness and hear from the homeless themselves.  What’s important here is that this exchange can go even further: If students want to address issues in society through a S-L course, they need to bring underrepresented voices to the forefront. But what happens when many of these voices are not in English or in the English (if there is just one…) of the student working with this project? To me, a multilingual approach to S-L would help students so they do not “speak for” those they are working with by appropriating someone’s language into their own English.

Going back to the ship idea—I see this as an interesting metaphor when applied to S-L classrooms. In a way, a S-L classroom must be “at sea”, dislocated from both the literal classroom at the university as well as where the people you interact with come from (are they homeless? Are they at an abuse shelter? Different city?). This notion of being “at sea” or in a state of instability applies to physical space as well as the various means of identity that are brought by both parties—neither to be fully “taken on” by the other. Moreover, ships are supposed to bring information from place to place. I see S-L projects as being a vehicle through which community experiences communicate with classroom experiences and create knowledge together.

So, S-L classrooms as a site of multilingual interaction?

  I’m toying of something along these lines for a symposium topic, but we’ll see… comments are appreciated, even if it’s just to say you think this works… or that I’m crazy.

What people do to learn English

 “English was no longer a perk; it had become an imperative” (11). When I read this sentence, I think of the six weeks I spent teaching this summer. I’ve never taught ESL before, but there I was in Andover, Mass, teaching 13-17 yr olds English. The first day of classes is one I won’t soon forget: as my students introduced themselves, I felt so excited for all the cultural experiences I was hearing about. And while I still look back to this experience with so much happiness, I can’t help but see the statement of English as an “imperative” in unflattering ways.

 I remember meeting Lea, a Korean student who spoke English better than most native speakers I know. At just 13 years old, Lea knows Korean, Spanish, French, and English (and I’m quite sure there is one more language that I’m forgetting). Lea came here for the summer to be immersed in English for the summer since she spends her year studying in Barcelona where her classes are mostly in Spanish (though some in English). She has left her parents and grandparents in Korea for the past year and a half to go to a “better school,” which she will attend for the next 4 years as well through high school.  

Phil, a 15 year old from Thailand, studies in New Zealand so he will learn English. He, too, expects to spend his entire high school career in another country.

And, Julian, a 15 yr old from Germany, studies English in hopes of becoming a “businessman.”

These three students were just a few of the many. But, in the case of Lea and Phil, it is extremely common for most of the students I taught to leave home at an early age to go learn another language. As each of these students expressed their reasoning for going to another country or learning another language, their rhetoric revolved around necessity, not choice: “the school is better,” “I need to learn English to succeed in the business world,” “My parents said learning English will be important.”  Granted, Lea goes to a Spanish-speaking school, but the concept was still the same; her parents sent her there for a “better education” than any she could get in South Korea.  These students make me see the reality of Prendergast’s book—how language (and most notably English) is treated as a form of “currency.” And it’s a currency that not everyone can obtain. Not everyone can send their child to an English speaking school.

When I read P’s book, I can’t help but think about what these students are getting out of leaving their homes. After interacting with these students, they did seem to think that learning English promised them something better—whatever that may be. They think that English affords opportunities—and maybe it does. On the one hand, these students are able to participate in various discourses thanks to their language skills. They have gained friends from around the world. And they possibly will have a better chance of getting a job or having a better chance at acceptance to universities than if they hadn’t learned English. But I can’t help but worry about what the future holds. Phil and Julian surely have a strong command of verbal English, but their writing isn’t very strong. And Lea certainly has a very strong command of both verbal and written English, but at what cost? For them to “buy into English (or Spanish and English in Lea’s case),” they are spending integral parts of their childhood on different continents than their family!

I guess my reason for writing this post is because my initial reaction specifically to Phil and Lea and Julian was amazement. These kids, 7+ years younger than myself, seem to have accomplished more than I could imagine. I was proud of them and I was also slightly envious of their experiences. But, after reading P and Canagarajah, I start to question the envy that I had. My center education and my native knowledge of English have afforded me a position of privilege that I think I still don’t fully realize. 

Feminist Methods at work

Since we seem to be on a feminist kick this week, I want to use this post to discuss how I saw specifically feminist methodologies come to work in Royster and Queen’s essays.  Although I enjoyed the goal of the Royster piece, I had a couple problems with it and I want to identify where I questioned her argument by putting it in conversation with some key points I saw in Queen’s. Specifically, I want to discuss the ideas of transparency, intersectionality, and construction/negotiation of power.   In their own way, both projects seem to be important for their potential to spread information, promote civic engagement, and evaluate/change the representations of people involved in their projects. And reading these texts together made me even more aware of how important it is to reevaluate (based on the three concepts I mentioned) and incorporate self-reflexivity into my own projects.

 Queen refers to Nedra Reynolds’s point that teachers must “attend to the [various] negotiations of power that take place across and within a number of spaces” (474).  And while Queen expands Reynolds’  (and others’) conception of “space” and “networks” to the term “field,” I still think that this use of “fields” looks toward the various power dynamics and social, cultural, historical, ideological (and many more) forces that shape the way in which we encounter interactions (whether they are in person, or textual or digital). What this term does allow, though, is for a broader discussion of rhetorical action and power relations that results from our interactions in both concrete texts (print) as well as digital texts, which continuously evolve. In Roster’s case, the billboards for loveLife present a socially constructed text that is largely unchanging. And while the message is admirable (to inform people about HIV), the audience does not seem to be taken into account. I guess what I mean is that while Royster states that the billboard campaign “bring[s] visibility, definition, and meaning [to problems and actions related to sexual health],” (157) I see this overpowering the voice of African people affected by HIV.  Admittedly, the billboard does make sexual health problems more visible, but whose place is it to define the problems here? Shouldn’t the voices of South African people (those actually affected) be involved?  To be sure, Royster does not have a stake in what these billboards advertise, but I do think it’s important that she seems to ignore that the audience/subjects of the billboards (in my opinion) seem largely disengaged or disempowered.  I’m not sure this is a fair interpretation, but my main point is that while Royster begins her essay talking about the intersectionality (or the how social, educational, political, economic forces come together) of dealing with HIV, I imagined that she would also be concerned with how those various factors are (or are not) represented within the campaign. And it didn’t seem to me that they were discussed.

 By looking to “rhetorical genealogy,” Queen emphasizes the need to “uncover…the structuring of meaning” as well as discover which “particular representations and interpretations gain validity and power” (476).  Emphasizing the “decolonization of self” in those who are doing rhetorical genealogies, Queen alludes to the idea of a transparent and self-reflexive approach.  Additionally, Queen alludes to transparency in her final sentence she states that “We must make visible the ways in which all our knowledge is mediated…and how profoundly that knowledge shapes, but also can be changed by our encounters with others, down the block and across the globe” (486).  I see Queen using this as an approach to counter the differences between one-thirds world and two-thirds world technologies and constraints. By making “visible” and acknowledging the many ways in which “knowledge is mediated,” she asks for transparency in a project. This does not automatically make her project better but I think that it allows for change in representations of power. On the other hand, one of the things of I found disturbing in Royster’s piece was how little transparency there was in the people involved. When you go on the website, there is an entire section on the Board of Directors and the “Organizational Structure” of loveLife http://www.lovelife.org.za/about/structure.php , but what I found most interesting was the lack of emphasis on actual people affected by HIV as well as the reasoning behind this. The organization looks more like a company selling products than an organization devoted to civic engagement.  Even if the goal is to spread information, I would think it important to include the people affected. Otherwise, I can only think of the billboard as a means to “speak for” these people and this situation. I admit that this is possibly because of the medium of billboards.

I hope this post isn’t taken as a negative against loveLife since I really don’t know enough about it. However, the important feminist aspects in Queen’s piece were not as apparent to me in Royster's—and, whether she wants it to be “feminist” or not, I think transparency, intersectionality and construction/negotiation of power  are crucial to her article.