Workshop Theory

I found the Camoin essay and the correspondence between teacher and student (first and second entries in the section) to be the most intriguing of our readings this week. Where critical theory fits in the workshop setting and where the workshop fits in the academic setting are at question here. First, I believe there to be value in the workshop. There is no purpose to a writing program without class-time dedicated to producing work and conversing with our contemporaries about that work. We are working to be the authors we study in lit classes. To grow in our craft, workshop participation "comes down to speaking about how texts mean, what they do, how they exist in the world, how they function" (5). As Francios Camoin puts it, "the theory (whether we want to call it that or not) is always there" (5).

Does this mean that good workshop participants have to be students of critical theory? If we must employ theory to examine and further work effectively, do we rely on the critical theory that students bring into the workshop or should workshops also teach theory as a way of engaging with texts? Eugene Garber, in a letter to Jan Ramjerdi, describes a change in the workshop atmosphere that corresponds to social trends and developments in social theory (9). Students are people (as strange as that sounds to assert), and as society evolves in demographics and ideologies the classroom will reflect and be tasked to accommodate these changes. That means acknowledging a shift in the dominant paradigm, making room for new voices and perspectives, and learning how to engage with those voices that may speak counter to traditional ways of assessing texts.

As a workshop facilitator, is it enough to be aware of social and critical theory, even if such theory is employed in the structure of the class? Can we assume that students will know or understand how to examine "the rhetorical properties of a work, what it tries to get readers to believe or even do" (9) without specifically addressing these subjects in the space of the workshop? Can the work and time spent in the workshop be valuable without this type of examination? If our work is to be out in the world, we must ask what the work is introducing or perpetuating. A benefit to the changing demographics of our society is the diversity of experience that will gather around the workshop table. Contention may very well arise. Our skills as facilitators, navigators of charged space, will become essential to conducting a successful class. Theory, though nearly infinite in perspective, may provide a buffer for heated opinions, a common ground from which to examine work. "It gives us a vocabulary...a way to talk to ourselves...faced with the problems of craft" (5). As teachers, as every space becomes political, we are tasked with providing the tools (or access to them) for assessing and developing the craft and placing it in the world.

Ramjerdi cites a change in the workshop in her response to Barber: "the shift in focus from the text as autonomous object to text as a construction of the reader" (10). This shift is accepted theory in this program, and likely most others. Interestingly, Camoin supports this observation, saying "the text under study is no longer the text under study...Nothing in the workshop is less sacred than the text" (4). He thinks critical theory is too important to leave to the critics (4); "they never see the text at the instant where it must become something else" (7). The shift in perspective of texts and the function of work in revision cannot then be separated from theory. "The political and ideological issues that emerge when we can no longer isolate the text as object" are "the focus of contemporary theories" (10-11). Are we serving students, preparing them and guiding growth, if we neglect to incorporate critical theory into the workshop setting? Indeed, how will we continue to develop theory so that it is useful and reflective of writing and society without testing it?

We can use theory in the workshop to get beyond surface commentary, and really move the work and the writer to new places. Discussion of theory is a way to challenge writers' conceptions of the world around them and their places in it. It also provides a basis for honoring work that does not fit into traditional forms. "What is most interesting in writing workshops: the unexpected, the aberration, the deviation from conventional narrative norms that necessarily points to itself and the convention it violates" (19). Without access to critical theory, these pieces are sidelined for their lack of convention, likely because students aren't sure how to talk about them. They have one idea of what "should" be, because that is what they've been told through secondary school is all there could be. College, and certainly a graduate program, is where this notion must be proven false. This is the place where minds are broadened, no? Otherwise, why am I paying?

I found very interesting the teacher and student takes on "master narrative" in the first correspondence piece. Teacher Barber states: "Discussions of works that appear to be representational but don't represent correctly (i.e. re-represent the master narratives) will be the most energetic because people will see that the counters and structures of master narratives are really being challenged" (17). Student Ramjerdi counters this notion. Her response exhibits the attention required to root out one's prejudices even as the theories are entertained. With more exposure to theory we might see trouble with the use of "correctly" in Barber's comment. Ramjerdi asserts an inclusionary view, saying her story used as Barber's example was indeed a master narrative, only with women as the masters. "What is so threatening is the question of who is master here (18)... what is violated is not a narrative convention but a social convention in narrative form" (19). The distinction speaks to the importance of examining texts in terms of social theory to get to the base of discrimination and ferret out the othering that exists in every politicized arena. Increasing access to critical theory increases capacity for conceptualizing society and the art that reflects and moves it forward.

So do we require theory classes for writers? I think this removes the tool from the job. Ramjerdi says, "the workshop is the ideal place to examine and test contemporary theories against contemporary texts" (11). A workshop, indeed a writing program, is a group of contemporaries. The group is governed by the rules of the academy and the politics of the institution. But an institution would benefit from "producing" writers who are capable of making a mark on the world. To do this, the contemporaries must be versed in how to talk about their work within the context of power structures in content and form; they must be tasked to think in these terms in order to produce work that challenges the status quo. This is how society advances, theory combined with practice. This is how we make ourselves an important part of the academic community, and the community at-large.

I have not encountered theory in the workshops I've attended in this program, unless espoused by a student. Perhaps it is a function of the highly politically-aware undergraduate population; perhaps the administration assumes that theory has already been introduced by the graduate level and if more is wanted, there are theory classes available. A change in this perspective to include theory in workshops would reduce the complaints by students that a workshop was not useful to them, the comments remained on the surface of the work, or they got little response at all. Theory taught in addition to evaluation of writing submissions solves these problems, lends a framework to discussions, gives direction, sparks questions. This is how we make the workshop worth a student's time. This is how we ensure better writers (and citizens) come out than went in.