Practice Makes Perfect:
A Student Perspective on Mason’s Culture of Writing
When first asked to write a blog post about my experience with Mason’s “culture of writing,” I will admit that my first question was “what is a culture of writing?” In response, Dr. LaFrance showed me the WAC website, which reads:
At Mason, the WAC program upholds a campus-wide commitment to student writers, writing-rich coursework, and writing in the disciplines. . . Central to our program’s mission is the belief that when students are given frequent opportunities for writing across the university curriculum, they think more critically and creatively, engage more deeply in their learning, and are better able to transfer what they have learned from course to course, context to context.
Looking back at my own undergraduate experiences, I can clearly see that this culture of writing impacted both my overall education and my role as a writer in many ways. Faculty, academic departments, and higher administration at Mason all do their part to foster the idea that our campus is a community of writers, and that students must be supported to develop as writers through explicit attention to writing in the disciplines. From the kinds of assignments I was given to the different teaching approaches faculty employed, each of my professors challenged me as a writer in very important ways. In this piece, I shed light on how being surrounded by a culture of writing as an undergraduate facilitated my success and development as a writer.
The first real challenge I faced as a writer was during an ENGH 380 course called Introduction to Writing and Rhetoric. The assignments for this course were more tailored and in-depth than any I had ever been given. While it could hardly be called an introduction, the class opened my eyes to the power of rhetoric as a writing tool. I learned how to synthesize complex information and draw fascinating ties between seemingly unrelated topics. My favorite assignment was a rhetorical analysis where I compared Aristotle’s theory of drama from the Poetics to a film review of the recent adaptation of the musical Les Miserables. It was here that I realized the doors rhetoric could open, and the discoveries that I could make as a writer, wielding this new knowledge.
As an English major and throughout my undergraduate career, I have completed countless different writing assignments. Many have been simple analyses of a specific text or topic, while some included very particular types of research. As I began to take more high-level courses, many of them rhetoric-focused, the assignments became longer and more in-depth. The research-components, such as integration of sources and evidence, gained both complexity and importance. These papers almost always analyzed the rhetorical positions of authors and patterns in a text, requiring me to use my growing awareness of rhetoric as a lens for my analysis. Surprisingly, I thrived when faced with these lengthy rhetorical analysis essays, and struggled more with the topical analyses. With the latter, professors often seemed to expect a level of depth and insight that I found difficult to achieve, considering the parameters of the assignment. These writing tasks challenged me to think critically about how different texts are composed and structured.
From my lower-level, general courses to my far-reaching rhetoric courses, the vast majority of my professors sent the same message: writing matters. The rules and approaches may change (sometimes drastically) from class to class, but most of my professors are alike in having clear standards, as well as very high expectations, of their students. Faculty express fairly differently the ways that they value writing– some offer extensive feedback and multiple revisions, others give very clear guidelines for each assignment, and some simply assign an a good number of papers – but most are unwavering in their determination to help us become more capable writers with every assignment.
The professors who helped me the most as a writer were the ones who tailored their instruction to each student. There is no single “right way” to write (although there are plenty of wrong ways). Consequently, there is not necessarily one right way to teach writing. Students approach writing with different amounts of knowledge and natural ability. We have often been exposed to many, diverse kinds of writing instruction. Some students need a little extra structure in order to succeed. Some thrive when given freedom. I seemed to do my best work when a professor allowed my individual vision to mesh with the assignment, even if that meant going in a new or risky direction. Professors who took the time to understand my unique writing style and approach, and thus let me take risks, understood that simply checking all of the boxes did not necessarily result in a stronger finished product. These professors knew how to uphold their standards, values, and central messages when teaching writing, but also how to give students a little flexibility to learn and write their own way.
With writing, as with anything else, practice makes perfect. George Mason’s culture of writing has played a vital part in my education and growth by giving me the opportunity to practice, practice, and practice some more. Extensive revision, feedback, and practice have made a true difference in how I approach each new writing task, helping me to develop old abilities and foster new ones, simply through the repeated act of writing itself. Although the teaching of writing is indeed time-consuming and multi-layered, I’d like faculty to know that is well worth their effort. The skill of polished and effective communication through writing cannot be undervalued – it is necessary for practically every aspect of life, especially professional pursuits. Extensive writing practice has enhanced my confidence about writing in general. Mason’s culture of writing has driven my success in so many ways, and equipped me for life both inside and outside of the classroom.