Aiming for Quality in Composition
Chapter 9 of Sennett’s book focuses on “Quality-Driven Work,” and it provides a variety of characterizations of a “good craftsman” in addition to exploring the borderline between obsession and vocation. Because of my ongoing focus on histories of Composition and its pedagogy, I found myself trying to make connections between his descriptions and the qualities of our field.
For example, to explain the concept of expertise he first notes the “modern usage of the term professional referred to people who saw themselves as something other than just employees,” which made me think about the period of professionalization of the field. James Berlin delineates this development in Rhetoric and Reality, where he informs us that in the late 30’s “[c]omposition teaching had been regarded as apprenticeship work at most larger universities since World War I, a job that beginning teachers undertook until they had spent enough time in the profession to qualify for better things” (105). Sennett also discussed the concept of apprenticeship in earlier chapters, and although I’m not surprised, I still find it noteworthy to point out how his description of expertise applies to the way that we can view ourselves as Teaching Assistants, or Writing Instructors, or New Scholars in the field, to Established Scholars in the field is similar to the sort of hierarchy that the apprentice/master distinction enforced in the medieval guilds.
Perhaps we should take heed of Sennett’s advice: “focus on whole human beings in time, it will encourage mentoring, and it will demand standards framed in language that any person in the organization can understand,” but I still wonder if that would be enough. This last suggestion is related to the sociable traits of an expert; however, there are also antisocial traits such as shaming others, or invidious comparison that Sennett points out at length. He admits that this inequality is built into all kinds of expertise. As a non-confrontational and mostly sociable person, I wonder if there are any ways that we can avoid these in our field. Would the simple consideration of this idea make me an anti-capitalist socialist? This is an ideology that I’ve been recognizing in some of the examples that Sennett includes in The Craftsman.
The list of “good qualities” of a craftsman should also be considered in relation to Composition. Sennett lists how the good craftsman: “understands the importance of the sketch—that is, not knowing quite what you are about when you begin;” “places positive value in contingency and constraint;” “needs to avoid pursuing a problem relentlessly to the point that it becomes perfectly self-contained” “avoids perfectionsism that can degrade into a self-conscious demonstration;” and “learns when it is time to stop”. Here I am thinking of teaching, from preparing a lesson plan to carrying out the lesson, but also the act of writing. Thus, Sennett provides us with a set of qualities that could be tailored for our composition classroom. But how much theoretical backdrop would we need to provide the students with, in order for them to grasp how these could affect their craft?
I would like to end with a sentence that drew me in as I was reading the section on Vocation: “Most people want to believe that their lives add up to more than a random series of disconnected events”. Once again, this seems to be related to economy, as it stems from Simon Head’s The New Ruthless Economy: Work and Power in the Digital Age. It reminds me of an honest discussion we had in class several weeks ago about how, ultimately, we all want to be in this field because it can provide us with the affordance to make a living. So I wonder, how can we begin to think of ourselves as something more than employees?