This section explores the interconnections between rhetoric theory from the times of theorists like Plate, Aristotle, Longinus, just to name a few, and how these are applicably to the modern day classroom.
The Ongoing Quest for the Ultimate Truth (February 5- February 9)
Language, its purpose, its aims, and its effects on those who speak it, produce it, and make sense of it continue to be at the center of this week’s readings. The functions of this language become part of an ongoing quest for the truth, whether it be a Platonic truth, a truth defined by Sophist belief or a truth that is merged from different ideologies. The medium by which this truth is generated is through language, but a type of language that is structured for specific aims. Is language, thus, provided too much power for its own means? The Sophists would rely on their doctrine of kairos to suggest a lens of an individual discovery of the self, independent of any institutional outer sources. Plato’s philosophy, on the other hand, is structured in a way that “allows him…to seek truth, while at the same time using a full range of dramatic and literary devices to persuade his readers to accept his own view of the truth” (Bizzell 29). This is to say that in order to deliver a truth that is believable to a decoder, then the signal should be transmitted in a fashion that is both strategic and applicable. How do such characteristics then allow us to shape and encode our own truth and the truth we intend to present?
We can perhaps begin to do so by identifying our social markers and as do encoders of the written form, begin to write our existence and role in current society. One of these social markers mentioned in our readings and which is largely determinant of where we fit and what roles are attributed to us within a culture is gender. Bizzell opens this discussion by looking at the education women received in classical Greece and points out that though their roles continued to be largely domestic-based, she did take on roles of authority in her household. These ideas are followed in Biesecker’s text, where she uses rhetoric to suggest that though Athenian women’s place in society was in her home, laws such as the one Pericles proposed in 451/450 B.C.E. extended the woman’s role beyond the domestic arena. Her existence, not only as a being but also as a citizen, was recognized and even revered. Interesting to point out is that though we have come a long way, in terms of the spaces women are taking on right now, there is still reluctance in the governmental positions women are undertaking and in their position within a male-dominated sphere. For instance, though women like Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin (though oddly enough she was often ridiculed for her inability to fully articulate the topics presented to her) were widely known for their the positions they were running for, they never took enough votes to put them at a place no other women has ever taken.
Speaking of positions, Kinneavy makes distinctions about where the encoder and decoder fit within a literary realm. He does so to highlight the aims of a discourse he defines as a “full text, oral or written” (129). We can begin to investigate in what category a female writer/ theorist/philosopher/ would fit in such categorizations where men dominate. This is in part because although their place as citizens gave them agency, one can ask, what happened to those who could not prove their status? Or who were isolated from philosophical ideologies (considering their names would have otherwise not be mentioned)? Could such exclusion be another form of oppression; language as a sign could in this way give power to an individual in the same manner that it can take it away.
The Ongoing Quest for the Ultimate Truth (February 5- February 9)
Language, its purpose, its aims, and its effects on those who speak it, produce it, and make sense of it continue to be at the center of this week’s readings. The functions of this language become part of an ongoing quest for the truth, whether it be a Platonic truth, a truth defined by Sophist belief or a truth that is merged from different ideologies. The medium by which this truth is generated is through language, but a type of language that is structured for specific aims. Is language, thus, provided too much power for its own means? The Sophists would rely on their doctrine of kairos to suggest a lens of an individual discovery of the self, independent of any institutional outer sources. Plato’s philosophy, on the other hand, is structured in a way that “allows him…to seek truth, while at the same time using a full range of dramatic and literary devices to persuade his readers to accept his own view of the truth” (Bizzell 29). This is to say that in order to deliver a truth that is believable to a decoder, then the signal should be transmitted in a fashion that is both strategic and applicable. How do such characteristics then allow us to shape and encode our own truth and the truth we intend to present?
We can perhaps begin to do so by identifying our social markers and as do encoders of the written form, begin to write our existence and role in current society. One of these social markers mentioned in our readings and which is largely determinant of where we fit and what roles are attributed to us within a culture is gender. Bizzell opens this discussion by looking at the education women received in classical Greece and points out that though their roles continued to be largely domestic-based, she did take on roles of authority in her household. These ideas are followed in Biesecker’s text, where she uses rhetoric to suggest that though Athenian women’s place in society was in her home, laws such as the one Pericles proposed in 451/450 B.C.E. extended the woman’s role beyond the domestic arena. Her existence, not only as a being but also as a citizen, was recognized and even revered. Interesting to point out is that though we have come a long way, in terms of the spaces women are taking on right now, there is still reluctance in the governmental positions women are undertaking and in their position within a male-dominated sphere. For instance, though women like Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin (though oddly enough she was often ridiculed for her inability to fully articulate the topics presented to her) were widely known for their the positions they were running for, they never took enough votes to put them at a place no other women has ever taken.
Speaking of positions, Kinneavy makes distinctions about where the encoder and decoder fit within a literary realm. He does so to highlight the aims of a discourse he defines as a “full text, oral or written” (129). We can begin to investigate in what category a female writer/ theorist/philosopher/ would fit in such categorizations where men dominate. This is in part because although their place as citizens gave them agency, one can ask, what happened to those who could not prove their status? Or who were isolated from philosophical ideologies (considering their names would have otherwise not be mentioned)? Could such exclusion be another form of oppression; language as a sign could in this way give power to an individual in the same manner that it can take it away.
Language as Vehicle of Oral and Verbal Manipulation: Cicero, Aristotle, Longinus, and Royster (February 24-March 2)
Writing and discourse are more than art forms; their function as forms of oral and verbal manipulation were more importantly highlighted. We can begin to analyze this argument by looking at Cicero’s De Oratore and his take on oratory as an act performed or mastered only by a selected few. More specifically, he refers to “Oratory [as] an attractive but difficult study.” Like Aristotle who believed that knowledge of a particular field was an important component of rhetoric, Cicero too believed that an effective orator presents something beyond an artistic presentation; the orator also had to demonstrate beauty and eloquence by being knowledgeable on various subjects, especially the one he is speaking of. Otherwise, the oration lacks in meaning, credibility, and function.
We can also look at Longinus’ On the Sublime and ask, what is good writing and what processes are adopted to achieve them? Can this state ever be reached? Longinus argues, “Real sublimity contains much food for reflection, is difficult or rather impossible to resist, and makes a strong and ineffaceable impression on the memory” (350). Here Longinus makes reference not only to the power of language as sets of signs that are used and interpreted by the listener/reader, but also as a means by which the audience makes sense and interplays the message taken into reality. For this reason, he equates good writing, that is, the writer’s ability to transcend his/her emotions beyond the page, to sublimity in that it partakes in the process of tricking and transporting the reader where the reader wants to take them. Thus, language is utilized to remove the audience outside of its present state, a form of dangerous deceit. In suggesting so, is more power then attributed to the product itself or to the producer of that product? In her article, Royster asserts “Voice- central manifestation of subjectivity” (556) to suggest that the writer or encoder provides life to his/her piece. It is through them that the writer has in the first place a product to decode. She adds, “I have come to recognize…that when the subject matter is me and the voice is not mine, my sense of right and order is disrupted(557). This is to differentiate the authority of the writer from the teller/ narrator. How much authority do we have to be writing about something that may not reflect our lives? Can a person of a particular group, for instance, write from the perspective of another person though their experiences might significantly differ? That is, the exterior perspective is brought into play, especially for “those whose voices and perspectives remain still largely under consideration and uncredited” (558). This is to pose criticism on what we consider the canonical writers, often governed by elite white males, whose experiences we have to connect to; conversely, the voices of writers whose beginnings stem from marginalized communities are questioned and suspected. This then brings us back to the question, what is good writing and who can produce it? This is so especially when there are structures like the Bell Curve (which Royster also presents), a socially constructed evaluation of intelligence based on race and class, set within the binary of “good” and “poor” writing. The subjective notions discussed above thus demonstrate that Royster’s method of presenting her argument is more effective than if she had chosen a more logic-based approach.
Writing and discourse are more than art forms; their function as forms of oral and verbal manipulation were more importantly highlighted. We can begin to analyze this argument by looking at Cicero’s De Oratore and his take on oratory as an act performed or mastered only by a selected few. More specifically, he refers to “Oratory [as] an attractive but difficult study.” Like Aristotle who believed that knowledge of a particular field was an important component of rhetoric, Cicero too believed that an effective orator presents something beyond an artistic presentation; the orator also had to demonstrate beauty and eloquence by being knowledgeable on various subjects, especially the one he is speaking of. Otherwise, the oration lacks in meaning, credibility, and function.
We can also look at Longinus’ On the Sublime and ask, what is good writing and what processes are adopted to achieve them? Can this state ever be reached? Longinus argues, “Real sublimity contains much food for reflection, is difficult or rather impossible to resist, and makes a strong and ineffaceable impression on the memory” (350). Here Longinus makes reference not only to the power of language as sets of signs that are used and interpreted by the listener/reader, but also as a means by which the audience makes sense and interplays the message taken into reality. For this reason, he equates good writing, that is, the writer’s ability to transcend his/her emotions beyond the page, to sublimity in that it partakes in the process of tricking and transporting the reader where the reader wants to take them. Thus, language is utilized to remove the audience outside of its present state, a form of dangerous deceit. In suggesting so, is more power then attributed to the product itself or to the producer of that product? In her article, Royster asserts “Voice- central manifestation of subjectivity” (556) to suggest that the writer or encoder provides life to his/her piece. It is through them that the writer has in the first place a product to decode. She adds, “I have come to recognize…that when the subject matter is me and the voice is not mine, my sense of right and order is disrupted(557). This is to differentiate the authority of the writer from the teller/ narrator. How much authority do we have to be writing about something that may not reflect our lives? Can a person of a particular group, for instance, write from the perspective of another person though their experiences might significantly differ? That is, the exterior perspective is brought into play, especially for “those whose voices and perspectives remain still largely under consideration and uncredited” (558). This is to pose criticism on what we consider the canonical writers, often governed by elite white males, whose experiences we have to connect to; conversely, the voices of writers whose beginnings stem from marginalized communities are questioned and suspected. This then brings us back to the question, what is good writing and who can produce it? This is so especially when there are structures like the Bell Curve (which Royster also presents), a socially constructed evaluation of intelligence based on race and class, set within the binary of “good” and “poor” writing. The subjective notions discussed above thus demonstrate that Royster’s method of presenting her argument is more effective than if she had chosen a more logic-based approach.
The eloquence in it all...: Taking a Closer Look at the Readings of Augistine, Bacon, and Longinus (March 10-March 16)
Eloquence is a term that is used throughout Augustine’s On Christian Doctrine to define the spectrum by which logic and rhetoric are influential to the orator. This form of eloquence also carries a type of truthfulness that needs to be explained and established even by those who have already distinguished themselves (those who are part of the Canon) above the typical writer who is yet to establish his credentials as a writer. Who is capable then of reaching this type of truthiness if not the all-knowing? This directs us to question the purpose of the text as a whole. Bizzell provides that On Christian Doctrine not only became a medium by which preachers were trained, but was also “invoked into…the Renaissance as an authoritative text on Christian preaching” (Bizzell 452). Stemming from a period that sets humanity at the core of existence, Augustine’s rhetoric attempts to provide rules of eloquence and in the same way, teach a way to a truth that encompasses more than just mere signs on a page. In the same manner and guided from a Christian discipline, it is a text that requires more than just “memorization,” (Augustine 459) as one can preach as much as one wants and chooses, but do not carry the same weight if they are not understood and retained.
Bacon’s Branches of logic are yet, to my understanding, in some aspects, a continuation from that of Classical thinkers who believed in a truth that enriches the individual in their ability to make logical and “moral/civil” interconnections. A large connection is build from Sophism. In where Aristotle described such method of teaching as corrupted, Bacon describes Sophism as pertaining to logic, imagination as rhetoric, and passion as morality. The fact that Bacon even provided such a role to each already suggests a move into a different realm of thinking, one that interrogates the distinction between invention and suggestion. This also brings to light the connection between Longinus’s concept of invention as interconnected with arrangement and appeal. Bacon provides yet another twist. He provides, “the invention of the mean is one thing, and the judgment of the consequence is another; the one exciting only, the other examining” (741). This is to say that once the knowledge is produced or revisited, then this knowledge must be evaluated to explore its effectiveness in that it evaluates the logic, or lack thereof. Furthermore, he who demonstrates his talent and advance from that talent, knowingly that he did not invent the object, has instead become highly knowledgeable on it, that is to say, an expert rather than a discoverer.
Another connection between Bacon and the Classical thinkers was the mention of speech and writing as independent vehicles of thought and expression. The orator was thought to require a deep manipulation of varied subjects and speaking abilities. Bacon stresses the influencing role of imagination in the act of writing and the production on interweaving thoughts. This is perhaps where Bacon expands from Classical though, in his attempt to unify knowledge (both scientific and non-scientific), the process of reaching this stage, and the outcome and application of it. This is especially suggested when Bacon says, “Rhetoric is to fill the imagination to second reason, and not to oppress it: for these abuses of arts come in but…[indirectly]…for caution (Bacon 743).
Eloquence is a term that is used throughout Augustine’s On Christian Doctrine to define the spectrum by which logic and rhetoric are influential to the orator. This form of eloquence also carries a type of truthfulness that needs to be explained and established even by those who have already distinguished themselves (those who are part of the Canon) above the typical writer who is yet to establish his credentials as a writer. Who is capable then of reaching this type of truthiness if not the all-knowing? This directs us to question the purpose of the text as a whole. Bizzell provides that On Christian Doctrine not only became a medium by which preachers were trained, but was also “invoked into…the Renaissance as an authoritative text on Christian preaching” (Bizzell 452). Stemming from a period that sets humanity at the core of existence, Augustine’s rhetoric attempts to provide rules of eloquence and in the same way, teach a way to a truth that encompasses more than just mere signs on a page. In the same manner and guided from a Christian discipline, it is a text that requires more than just “memorization,” (Augustine 459) as one can preach as much as one wants and chooses, but do not carry the same weight if they are not understood and retained.
Bacon’s Branches of logic are yet, to my understanding, in some aspects, a continuation from that of Classical thinkers who believed in a truth that enriches the individual in their ability to make logical and “moral/civil” interconnections. A large connection is build from Sophism. In where Aristotle described such method of teaching as corrupted, Bacon describes Sophism as pertaining to logic, imagination as rhetoric, and passion as morality. The fact that Bacon even provided such a role to each already suggests a move into a different realm of thinking, one that interrogates the distinction between invention and suggestion. This also brings to light the connection between Longinus’s concept of invention as interconnected with arrangement and appeal. Bacon provides yet another twist. He provides, “the invention of the mean is one thing, and the judgment of the consequence is another; the one exciting only, the other examining” (741). This is to say that once the knowledge is produced or revisited, then this knowledge must be evaluated to explore its effectiveness in that it evaluates the logic, or lack thereof. Furthermore, he who demonstrates his talent and advance from that talent, knowingly that he did not invent the object, has instead become highly knowledgeable on it, that is to say, an expert rather than a discoverer.
Another connection between Bacon and the Classical thinkers was the mention of speech and writing as independent vehicles of thought and expression. The orator was thought to require a deep manipulation of varied subjects and speaking abilities. Bacon stresses the influencing role of imagination in the act of writing and the production on interweaving thoughts. This is perhaps where Bacon expands from Classical though, in his attempt to unify knowledge (both scientific and non-scientific), the process of reaching this stage, and the outcome and application of it. This is especially suggested when Bacon says, “Rhetoric is to fill the imagination to second reason, and not to oppress it: for these abuses of arts come in but…[indirectly]…for caution (Bacon 743).
Pedagogical Resistance in the Classroom (April 21-April 27)
Writing and the teaching of it are far from linear acts. It is complex and more than just a singular, independent process. First of all, as Bakhtin suggests, “Everything ideological possesses meaning/; it represents, depicts, or stands for something lying outside itself” (1211). This is to say that words are made to represent a specific sign, carrying with it a given purpose. It does not become a sign until this characteristic is made and followed through, now carrying a value system. In addition, Bakhtin also mentions that “signs [are] created by man” (1212). They do not come out of the blue or magically become part of the linguistic forum. They are constructed to deliver beyond grouped alphabetic pieces and rather to demonstrate how they exist as representations to how we perceive our own realities. Take for instance, the words “immigrant” and “immigration.” To cite a lecture by Dr. Robin Kelly, contrary to beliefs that these words have been around for centuries, they are fairly new words constructed to separate. What may be the intended goal in making them part of our common language, that is, language used every day? Is it a capitalistic reason of separation? I believe so and even beyond a capitalistic way (in the sense that some gain and others lose capital, whether it is cultural, political, or economic).
This is directly reflective of the way writing is taught and learned. Breuch does an effective job in demonstrating that writing should be taught beyond the act of writing and revising. For this, Breuch focuses on pedagogical resistance, which is most “apparent in the claim that writing cannot be taught, which stems from the argument by Kent that writing is a situated, interpretive, and indeterminate act” (99). In so doing, she focuses on the relationship between teacher and student. The claim that writing is dialogical is effective in that it separates the work itself from the producer, which is something we opt to do as writers; in turn, we see ourselves as robots rather than beings capable of producing and/or dealing with complex threads of knowledge. One cannot, however, escape teaching writing as a “system of knowledge or a skill to master.” We need to have a platform from which to expand or develop from. A question I am often confronted with and which I continue to answer myself, for instance, is, can students be taught to think critically? Besides learning how to read and write, thinking critical and synthesizing beyond just the text provided for the students first requires a system of knowledge; from this, students can then accept or repel from existent ideas and theories. Before suggesting that in the writing classroom, there must be “internal dialogues between a self and an internalized audience” (103). The teacher might then take on to provide the students factors from which to base these internal dialogues from, whether it is their culture, ethnicity, gender, or any other social markers that will allow the student to engage in a dialogue about what he or she reads in the classroom and what he or she experiences outside the classroom.
Writing and the teaching of it are far from linear acts. It is complex and more than just a singular, independent process. First of all, as Bakhtin suggests, “Everything ideological possesses meaning/; it represents, depicts, or stands for something lying outside itself” (1211). This is to say that words are made to represent a specific sign, carrying with it a given purpose. It does not become a sign until this characteristic is made and followed through, now carrying a value system. In addition, Bakhtin also mentions that “signs [are] created by man” (1212). They do not come out of the blue or magically become part of the linguistic forum. They are constructed to deliver beyond grouped alphabetic pieces and rather to demonstrate how they exist as representations to how we perceive our own realities. Take for instance, the words “immigrant” and “immigration.” To cite a lecture by Dr. Robin Kelly, contrary to beliefs that these words have been around for centuries, they are fairly new words constructed to separate. What may be the intended goal in making them part of our common language, that is, language used every day? Is it a capitalistic reason of separation? I believe so and even beyond a capitalistic way (in the sense that some gain and others lose capital, whether it is cultural, political, or economic).
This is directly reflective of the way writing is taught and learned. Breuch does an effective job in demonstrating that writing should be taught beyond the act of writing and revising. For this, Breuch focuses on pedagogical resistance, which is most “apparent in the claim that writing cannot be taught, which stems from the argument by Kent that writing is a situated, interpretive, and indeterminate act” (99). In so doing, she focuses on the relationship between teacher and student. The claim that writing is dialogical is effective in that it separates the work itself from the producer, which is something we opt to do as writers; in turn, we see ourselves as robots rather than beings capable of producing and/or dealing with complex threads of knowledge. One cannot, however, escape teaching writing as a “system of knowledge or a skill to master.” We need to have a platform from which to expand or develop from. A question I am often confronted with and which I continue to answer myself, for instance, is, can students be taught to think critically? Besides learning how to read and write, thinking critical and synthesizing beyond just the text provided for the students first requires a system of knowledge; from this, students can then accept or repel from existent ideas and theories. Before suggesting that in the writing classroom, there must be “internal dialogues between a self and an internalized audience” (103). The teacher might then take on to provide the students factors from which to base these internal dialogues from, whether it is their culture, ethnicity, gender, or any other social markers that will allow the student to engage in a dialogue about what he or she reads in the classroom and what he or she experiences outside the classroom.
Investigating the Hierarchy of Language through a Political Lens (April 28-May 4)
We cannot remove ourselves from the political, even in the classroom where language is generated, analyzed, modified, rejected and adopted. Foucault, in his article, “The Order of Discourse” focuses on discourse in the “will to power.” He comes to this process by quickly identifying his thesis: “in every society the production of discourse is at once controlled, selected, organized and redistributed by a certain number of procedures whose role is to ward off its powers and dangers, to gain mastery over its chance events, to evade its ponderous, formidable materiality” (1461). Already here he situates a hierarchy in the language used and produced. In so doing, he not only claims that language is subjective (once again referring to “truthiness”). He also makes claim that contrary to assumptions often made that the speaker is also the author, the author and speaker/orator are distinct agents. In a similar manner, Derrida in “Signature Event Context,” touches on the concept of bound/unbound language as it pertains communication as a speech act. In so doing, Derrida argues that writing and speech are at equivalent scopes in where language can be communicated without being restricted to context.
To move this discussion closer to teaching to first year composition instructors, Richard Ohmann ends his article with the line: “The only way to have a democracy is to make one” (713). He speaks of language and socio-economic standings in the context of a needed revolution, one which is influenced by political and historical change. To do so, he focused on the development of the term, “literate,” and its binary “illiterate,” a tem coincidentally developed to signal out a specific group, immigrants, of which James Munroe has plenty to say. Following such characterization was the stigma that the educational system was geared toward the needs of only that particular group, immigrants. Ohmann argues against this claim by connecting to technology and suggesting that a more holistic approach to stabilizing society is needed, considering how technology is quickly overpowering our daily lives, even to the point of replacing jobs that people once took hold of.
Furthermore, Cynthia Selfe and Richard Selfe begin their piece by identifying the metaphysical borders existent in the border, in which diverse ethnicities, cultures, traditions, religions, and in particular, technology, mesh together. My co-worker and I were the other day discussing whether technology and its use in the classroom prove to be effective or defective to student learning in and out of the classroom. We both spoke about how using technology as a passive means, that is using computers to answer multiple choice answers, or engage in activities that could otherwise be done with a piece of paper and a pencil, is not as effective to student learning because it does not motivate them to use the computer to reach a different means. When assignments require students to research and even to run data is an active form of teaching that requires the student to question and go beyond the basics. I make this connection to Selfe and Selfe’s argument to signal the “technological underclass,” defined by the uses by which computers are used; whereas in minority classrooms, technology is used to teach the basics, in majority classrooms, it is used for the “development of higher order literacy and cognitive skills” (743). Then the authors go on to point out how interfaces are a form of oppressing those who not only cannot speak the English language but who because of it are less likely to understand computer software. Thus, this then becomes another border that distances and in a sense puts these students at a disadvantage. The connections used for teachers who may engage students in that field was effective because as some say, you need to know the system to even attempt to refute it in any way. This is especially so in acknowledging that computers carry in themselves a new language, one which is alien to even those who use it, so suggesting an understanding of interface mapping suggests attaining the understanding and with that, looking into other avenues of teaching it.
We cannot remove ourselves from the political, even in the classroom where language is generated, analyzed, modified, rejected and adopted. Foucault, in his article, “The Order of Discourse” focuses on discourse in the “will to power.” He comes to this process by quickly identifying his thesis: “in every society the production of discourse is at once controlled, selected, organized and redistributed by a certain number of procedures whose role is to ward off its powers and dangers, to gain mastery over its chance events, to evade its ponderous, formidable materiality” (1461). Already here he situates a hierarchy in the language used and produced. In so doing, he not only claims that language is subjective (once again referring to “truthiness”). He also makes claim that contrary to assumptions often made that the speaker is also the author, the author and speaker/orator are distinct agents. In a similar manner, Derrida in “Signature Event Context,” touches on the concept of bound/unbound language as it pertains communication as a speech act. In so doing, Derrida argues that writing and speech are at equivalent scopes in where language can be communicated without being restricted to context.
To move this discussion closer to teaching to first year composition instructors, Richard Ohmann ends his article with the line: “The only way to have a democracy is to make one” (713). He speaks of language and socio-economic standings in the context of a needed revolution, one which is influenced by political and historical change. To do so, he focused on the development of the term, “literate,” and its binary “illiterate,” a tem coincidentally developed to signal out a specific group, immigrants, of which James Munroe has plenty to say. Following such characterization was the stigma that the educational system was geared toward the needs of only that particular group, immigrants. Ohmann argues against this claim by connecting to technology and suggesting that a more holistic approach to stabilizing society is needed, considering how technology is quickly overpowering our daily lives, even to the point of replacing jobs that people once took hold of.
Furthermore, Cynthia Selfe and Richard Selfe begin their piece by identifying the metaphysical borders existent in the border, in which diverse ethnicities, cultures, traditions, religions, and in particular, technology, mesh together. My co-worker and I were the other day discussing whether technology and its use in the classroom prove to be effective or defective to student learning in and out of the classroom. We both spoke about how using technology as a passive means, that is using computers to answer multiple choice answers, or engage in activities that could otherwise be done with a piece of paper and a pencil, is not as effective to student learning because it does not motivate them to use the computer to reach a different means. When assignments require students to research and even to run data is an active form of teaching that requires the student to question and go beyond the basics. I make this connection to Selfe and Selfe’s argument to signal the “technological underclass,” defined by the uses by which computers are used; whereas in minority classrooms, technology is used to teach the basics, in majority classrooms, it is used for the “development of higher order literacy and cognitive skills” (743). Then the authors go on to point out how interfaces are a form of oppressing those who not only cannot speak the English language but who because of it are less likely to understand computer software. Thus, this then becomes another border that distances and in a sense puts these students at a disadvantage. The connections used for teachers who may engage students in that field was effective because as some say, you need to know the system to even attempt to refute it in any way. This is especially so in acknowledging that computers carry in themselves a new language, one which is alien to even those who use it, so suggesting an understanding of interface mapping suggests attaining the understanding and with that, looking into other avenues of teaching it.