Writing Identity
Feat. Roz Ivanic, Lancaster University
When second language writers compose in English, it may be assumed that they make sacrifices. They might not be able to expand their vocabulary as well in another language, and they cannot express themselves as fully. Despite the assertion by Helms-Park and Stapleton in 2003 that the issue of voice in academic writing is irrelevant and overexposed, voice is especially important in second language composition.
Despite the fact that writing does not have the same phonetic qualities of speech, so that we may notice accents, we can still learn a lot about people from their writing. In 2001, Paul Kei Matsuda defined the writer’s voice as “the amalgamative effect of the use of discursive and non-discursive features that language users choose, deliberately or otherwise, from socially available yet ever-changing repertoires.” To add to this, writers also embody “voice types,” which help us to understand where the writer is coming from culturally. Although it may not always seem obvious, we should reject the notion that rhetorical writing can be “impersonal,” because one always conveys something about the self in one’s writing.
For all the fine suggestions that Ann Raimes makes regarding grammar and correctness, the issue of voice supplements her argument a great deal. Errors can reveal a lot about the mind. But does a mind with errors make for a cluttered voice? In some instances, the answer is yes. Suresh Canagarajah observed that his student, Buthainah, distinguished between “code-meshing,” or the strategic use of multilingual writing in English composition, and Standard English grammatical errors. Thus, the errors hindered her from letting her authority, creativity, and voice speak.
However, there are also instances where writers consciously use grammatical techniques that deviate from the Standard English norm. For example, feminist and non-heteronormative writers often use “they” instead of “he or she” as the pronoun to represent an individual. They would not regard this usage as an error, but rather as something that supports their beliefs about gender normativity. This is a key instance in which one’s writing also reveals one’s voice.
Barbara Kroll has reiterated the commonly accepted two-stage process of learning a language, in which one first learns to grasp the syntax and later learns to articulate rhetoric. She comments on obvious issues with this formula for second language students in first-year writing classrooms, but rather than take her suggestion to separate student issues in terms of their grasp of rhetoric and syntax, one could take a different approach. It is imprudent to assume that one has to firmly know English grammar before one can understand genres and the power of discourses.
The issues of student voice, identity, and agency are integral to writing instruction and should be addressed in the classroom early on. By experimenting with different voice types in writing, students can cultivate their own, unique, multifaceted voices. First-year writing should be about encouraging students to confidently form their own opinions, and this goal should apply to second language students as well.
Despite the fact that writing does not have the same phonetic qualities of speech, so that we may notice accents, we can still learn a lot about people from their writing. In 2001, Paul Kei Matsuda defined the writer’s voice as “the amalgamative effect of the use of discursive and non-discursive features that language users choose, deliberately or otherwise, from socially available yet ever-changing repertoires.” To add to this, writers also embody “voice types,” which help us to understand where the writer is coming from culturally. Although it may not always seem obvious, we should reject the notion that rhetorical writing can be “impersonal,” because one always conveys something about the self in one’s writing.
For all the fine suggestions that Ann Raimes makes regarding grammar and correctness, the issue of voice supplements her argument a great deal. Errors can reveal a lot about the mind. But does a mind with errors make for a cluttered voice? In some instances, the answer is yes. Suresh Canagarajah observed that his student, Buthainah, distinguished between “code-meshing,” or the strategic use of multilingual writing in English composition, and Standard English grammatical errors. Thus, the errors hindered her from letting her authority, creativity, and voice speak.
However, there are also instances where writers consciously use grammatical techniques that deviate from the Standard English norm. For example, feminist and non-heteronormative writers often use “they” instead of “he or she” as the pronoun to represent an individual. They would not regard this usage as an error, but rather as something that supports their beliefs about gender normativity. This is a key instance in which one’s writing also reveals one’s voice.
Barbara Kroll has reiterated the commonly accepted two-stage process of learning a language, in which one first learns to grasp the syntax and later learns to articulate rhetoric. She comments on obvious issues with this formula for second language students in first-year writing classrooms, but rather than take her suggestion to separate student issues in terms of their grasp of rhetoric and syntax, one could take a different approach. It is imprudent to assume that one has to firmly know English grammar before one can understand genres and the power of discourses.
The issues of student voice, identity, and agency are integral to writing instruction and should be addressed in the classroom early on. By experimenting with different voice types in writing, students can cultivate their own, unique, multifaceted voices. First-year writing should be about encouraging students to confidently form their own opinions, and this goal should apply to second language students as well.