by Tommy Morrison, Philosophy

Often the writing process reveals that what we thought was a clear concept was in fact inchoate and in need of organization. Writing allows us to reexamine, manipulate, and think through concepts differently. These characteristics of writing are transformative because we engage the world through concepts. Even if we do not engage the world through concepts, we nevertheless consciously and unconsciously rely on concepts all the time. So, in a real sense, when working on concepts in the writing process we are concurrently working on ourselves. Therefore, when pedagogical ‘best practice’ dictates that teachers should emphasize to the student that the student doesn’t share an identity with their writing, that is true, but that hides a dimension of the writing process from the student and teacher.

Of course, no one should be reduced to the writing that they produce, but writing is like an oeuvre (work of art), it contains a portion of the artist. It is psychologically liberating to acknowledge that the writing is separate from who we are as people. However, I argue it would be more helpful to frame it as a process in which we admit that the writing is part of who we are, but a part that is still in development and doesn’t define us essentially. But, that confession opens up a vulnerability that can destabilize the learning process.

The contemporary university space can be described as trying to emotionally stabilize and train the next work force. Yet, to engage the material taught in the classroom earnestly means recognizing the potential of learning, i.e. opening oneself up to the possibility for radical emotional instability. In other words, this is a higher risk strategy for learning, which from the perspective of the university would be unacceptable, because the university wants to maximize retention rates. Is it possible to engage with material openly and recognize that we are works in progress?

The question that comes into relief at the end of my reflection is, is it possible to be serious about the power of writing and learning and avoid disillusionment?

The graduate student is perhaps in the most vulnerable epistemic position with regard to the writing process, because they occupy the dual position of teacher and student. They have enough critical awareness of their work to realize its shortcomings, but not the tools to produce writing with mastery. Further, they are put into programs that both facilitate and hamper their work because it is no longer enough to read, write, and do research. Graduate students must also be technocratic bureaucrats. The question that comes into relief at the end of my reflection is, is it possible to be serious about the power of writing and learning and avoid disillusionment? One response is that WIP contains both the principles for discipline as well as the principles for liberation, and it is up to us to determine how we appropriate its edicts.