Pre-Thanksgivingtime Ponderings

I am becoming slightly more comfortable with feeling too directive. I see how right now—in what feels like the season of BUSCOM [insert something here] letters—the demand calls for a certain kind of consulting. There seem to be very few ways to be questioning in nondirective ways when the text in between a writer and I is 200 words in strict format. I tried, with a BUSCOM proposal (instead of a letter, woot!) to ask some questions and the student just bluntly but kindly told me he didn’t need that work and that he wanted grammar edits before it was due in an hour. In that moment I realized that a consultant appropriately finds and offers what the writer needs, and may suggest more—but that suggestion or advice may not be taken.

It has been fun to continue consultations and muse over the ways that it is both familiar and foreign. Before it all started I was able to tell myself not to stress out because it was a little like teaching, in the beginning I felt very teacher in the directive nature of many consultations, and now I am just along for the ride. Especially considering our admin meeting conversations about the culture of the 303/503 course, I have always seen the need for such a place of discussion, encountering and contacting essential material, and problem solving what we do in the writing center… but now I am even more thankful of it. Consulting is a never-ending parade of new and different people and writers, situations, variables, and consultations—just like you have continued to tell us. Discovering this to be true myself has been fun and engaging. I see the ways I think about and teach writing evolving, and even though it is a little nerve-wracking to shake up something that has been so constant for me it is so necessary.

So my class and I had a Halloween party today and I regret none of it. I did some necessary lecturing and then we played a kahoot.it game while eating their fantastic baking and snacks. My costume for the party was a wizard trying to pass as a muggle and then I subbed for Skyler’s class in those odd clothes. By the time the morning teaching was over I was exhausted, went home, and fell asleep until right before the admin meeting—which was why I was several minutes late (sorry). But then I realized, sitting in that meeting today still groggy, that I couldn’t imagine being anywhere but there with that group of people trying to solve the world’s problems. I feel this way a lot when I get to sit down with all of the second year cohort and we are doing silly things—just a deep and grateful sense of finding the right place, people, and time.

Because the writing center is filled with all of the best people. I never feel uncomfortable asking questions or telling stories or just hanging out. On Thursday Ryenne and I were talking about discourse community analysis papers and I learned that she was the student of Madison’s that was friends with the student of mine who argued over which of us (Madison or I) to take for 102… but ultimately they couldn’t take it together because they refused to choose which of us was better. It was the funniest, cutest conversation and of course it’s one that happened because we both ended up at the writing center. I am just getting Thanksgiving-y before it’s allowed to be Thanksgiving time and really so thankful of and for all the people and events that brought me to Boise State.

I know that the work is hard, and that sexism sucks, and that we as women who plan to lead in some way have an uphill battle, but I cannot wait to learn as much as I can from my peers, the staff, you, and the writers. When everyone else was involved at the writing center I wanted to be involved so I could understand this allegiance to a place I had never entered before—I wanted to see why Madison ruled out any doctoral programs that didn’t have a great writing center. I am now beginning to understand why.