Teaching Writing :: Reflective Writing Education Feminism Essays

Teaching Writing As I look fanny over the course of this semester, the image that I get is one of the muddied variety. It is difficult to identify although I have mat up its presence for nearly four months now. There have been many moments when I have waited for the insights to come, for the interlingual rendition and the musical composition to mesh. And instead, I felt corresponding I was lost in a fog that was sometimes dense, other times only misty. The scald part is that the fog is pervading a familiar place and once it clears I will be disappointed with myself because I should have known scarcely where I was. What troubles me is why I do non know where I stand, after a semester of studying concepts I believe in. My hopes for myself in this clan have not been met (for which I h of age(predicate) myself entirely responsible). I washed-out the last few months searching for answers in the material, in my dialogues with my classmates and coworkers, in my writing and thro ugh my thinking. As a feminist and a critical educator I thought I would surely come to some terrific conclusions, with all these theories as my bedfellows. But instead I tactual sensation care I have abandoned and failed my agenda to better learn the scheme and grow because of it. This is not to say that I have not knowing anything, or not grown from the experience of this class. I know and feel that I have been changed I am just not sealed how.I look back at my reaction pennings and I only see doubts. Questioning the people whose projects I admire, whose goals are not so different than mine, who know so much more than I do. And yet each paper that I have written criticizes and tries to nudge holes. This sense of being lost, of not knowing is my own fault. I did not allow myself to engage with the writers. It has only been at the end, by doing my research paper and reading the articles about race that I finally felt like there was a place for me this course. It has been an alienating experience to see my peers prospering with our coursework while I felt like a grumpy old dwarf, shouting What about me? And then, a couple weeks ago, when we started reading Race, Rhetoric, and Composition, I felt like the fog was beginning to shift.