Knowledge Has a Heartbeat

           My first week as an intern in the writing center was a lot of things.  For one, it helped to dispel my fears of the unknown.  Those who work there are lovely people!  The atmosphere is warm and accepting.  I appreciate the kindness that abounds, and I love the passion everyone there has for English in all its beautiful ways, shapes, and forms.  Also, I was amused to notice how dorkishly giddy I was when a few students came in for a consultation.  I’m excited for it to be my turn to welcome someone into a cubicle and delve into the writing process.

            In the classroom, I learned much from discussions over the reading materials, and one of my favorite ideas was the concept of knowledge Bruffee discusses in his writing.  I’m intrigued by his description of knowledge and how “knowledge is the product of human beings in a state of continual negotiation or conversation” (214).  He therefore describes education as, rather than something to be obtained, to be “a process of learning to ‘take a hand in what is going on’ by joining ‘the conversation of mankind’” (214-15).  Amen, Mister Bruffee!  His description of knowledge and education compels me to rethink how I think about the things I know.  Instead of viewing knowledge as a finite substance, it seems to now take on a three-dimensional, kinetic energy that inhales and exhales as a life of its own, shifting and evolving as it’s fueled by social contributions.

            Both Bruffee and Wingate point out how this active temperament of knowledge rubs the current conventions of our education system the wrong way.  As a whole, mainstream students are instructed under a fundamental tenet of viewing knowledge as cold, hard, facts that are inanimate and unforgiving, and that calculate the breadth of someone’s intelligence by seeing how many facts were practiced correctly.  It’s a sad reality but also a common one, so it helps me to prepare myself for the mindset of many (if not most) of the students I will someday be peer tutoring.  This all makes me wonder, “How can Bruffee’s description of knowledge influence my methods as a tutor?  How can I help students reach beyond the confines of the old ways of thinking about knowledge and realize their capacities and responsibilities in being a part of the conversation of mankind?”

            In one of our class discussions, it was pointed out that many, many students enter the writing center with an almost obliterated sense of confidence in their writing.  More than anything, this self-imposed handicap came from negative remarks they’ve received about their work—remarks that were often dished out from instructors who subscribe to the rigidities of right and wrong, grammar mistakes equal poor writing, and so forth.  The way I see it, the only shortcoming of these students is their lack of experience in having the great types of conversations that translate into strong writing.  And, of course, this isn’t their fault!  Therefore, as a hopeful tutor-to-be, I want to target that outdated thinking and blast away!—kindly, of course.  I want to immerse them in the evolved, collaborative art of knowledge by engaging in meaningful conversation with them about their writing.  If I can generate in them a momentum towards thinking like useful contributors to the dialogue, then I think this can help wriggle their confidence out of the mud and into the place where they work, respectably, as creators of knowing.