A Writing Tutorial
for Graduate Students
by
Cecelia Munzenmaier
Tutorial Definitions Writing Rubric & Comments Example One Example Two Example Three
[This model paper is single-spaced for easier reading online. However, APA style calls for papers to be double-spaced.]
Becoming an Academic Writer: Three Metaphors and Their Implications
How does a fledgling graduate student learn to write like a scholar? The varied metaphors used to describe the process suggest that it involves more than mastering the vocabulary of a profession and the technicalities of citing sources. Composition theorists compare learning academic style to being initiated, joining a conversation, and finding a personal voice. These metaphors, while different, are not contradictory. Each can provide guidance for graduate students who must learn to write academic prose.
The initiation metaphor compares a new graduate student to someone who has gone through a ritual passage into adulthood. During such a passage, the elders of an indigenous tribe might bestow a mark of adulthood on the initiate, perhaps a scar or a garment worn only by adults. During graduate school, students acquire one of the markers of membership in an academic community: the specialized language of their discipline. For example, the phrase “adult learning principles” captures the philosophy that underlies performance consulting. Fundamental principles, such as adults’ need to see a purpose for what they are learning and their ability to direct their own learning, are referenced in one short phrase. Familiarity with this phrase is considered a basic qualification for professional status; virtually every ad for a trainer or performance consultant requires “knowledge of adult learning principles.”
However, learning the vocabulary does not guarantee that a student will become a productive member of the academic community. Consider this example, cited by writing coach Christine Mowat (2001, Typical writing problems, para. 6): “I utilize, and promote, a ‘team orientated,’ participative style of management wherein delegations and concomitant accountability, in a results-orientated environment, are instrumental in attaining Departmental, and Corporate, objectives.” This sounds like what many people think of as academic prose, with its long sentences, multisyllabic words, and high level of abstraction. But what lies behind this string of polysyllables? “In his writing conference, the writer acknowledged that what he meant was ‘My team and I work together to achieve company and departmental goals,’” reports Mowat (Typical writing problems, para. 7). This simple thought would have been better expressed in simple language. Complex, nuanced language may be needed to express complex thoughts, but using elevated language for simple concepts is a vain display of erudition. Unskilled readers will give up in confusion; skilled readers will suspect that the author is using an inflated style to disguise a lack of substance.
The conversation metaphor suggests that judgments about substance are based on both what is said and how it is said. At a university, writing takes place within the context of an academic discipline. As students learn what has already been published in their field, their writing becomes part of a ongoing “conversation” in which they acknowledge what has already been said and make their own contribution to the subject. Sandra Zerger (1999, Theories of Composition, para. 8) summarizes the process of joining a discourse community, which includes
learning to know the shared assumptions of the discipline—what constitutes knowledge and how it is created within that disciplinary community; what the subjects are or explorations are appropriate. It involves knowing what resources and authorities are respected and what evidence is valid and expected and respected. It means knowing what reasoning occurs within the discipline, including knowing the conventions of the community.
The conventions of discourse determine whether a paper is judged to have substance or relevance to the ongoing discussion of issues within a field. In 1981, Charles Bazerman compared articles published in professional journals in three different fields: biology, sociology, and literary criticism. He found a wide variation in what constitutes acceptable evidence. Biologists trust experimental results, sociologists rely on statistics and theoretical models, and literary critics cite evidence from a text. Zerger (2001, Language of the disciplines, para. 1) analyzed several studies of how teachers in various disciplines judged writing and found an equally wide variance:
The humanities faculty tended to describe “good” writing by the terms: clever in word play, vivacious, eloquent, aesthetically satisfying, and natural. The social scientists preferred: non-trivial, relevant, plausible, and significant. Those in the arts preferred creative, imaginative, interesting, and persuasive. The natural scientists used theory-driven and analytical.
Given this variance, how does a novice learn the rules of discourse used by experts within the field? The conversation metaphor suggests “listening in” by reading works acknowledged as classics in the field, keeping up with professional journals, and observing how professors talk and what they accept as evidence.
Of course, no genuine conversation is a monologue. The metaphor of finding a voice suggests that writing is part of the process of finding a professional identity. As students join in the conversation, they learn to present themselves as experts on a topic. They begin by developing confidence in what they know, asserting that “Most experts concur” and “These studies have a high validity because….” They find scholarly ways to confess what they do not know, noting the limits of current knowledge and the need for further studies. Eventually they assume a critical stance, testing the validity of others’ conclusions and developing their own informed opinions. In the process, they will receive feedback about whether their thinking and writing meets the standards of their discourse community.
The idea of finding a voice also suggests a way to deal with the vexing question of how much to quote. As one frustrated student put it, “If you use too many sources, your own ideas get lost, but if you write on your own, it’s like ‘who’s interested?—where’s the authority?’” (Using the work, para. 2). One way to resolve this question is to compare writing a paper to leading a discussion. Each source quoted can be considered one voice in the discussion. The author is the moderator, who determines the topic, introduces each participant, and explains the significance of each contribution. While participants’ contributions add depth and variety, the author’s voice should predominate (Flanagan, 2003, Using Quotations, para. 5).
The metaphor of finding one’s voice also suggests that becoming an academic writer is an ongoing process. “It takes years to become a good writer—years of writing, reading, discussing, living, and working. Like it or not, writing mirrors a writer's persona, integrity, and clarity of thought,” observes Mowat (2001, Speculations on why people in business and the professions write poorly, para. 10).
A writer’s persona, or voice, matures with experience. Once initiated into a discourse community, an individual’s voice acquires new fullness and resonance from joining in its ongoing discussions. Listening to what others say leads to new learning, which becomes another point of entry into the continuing dialogue.
References
Bazerman, C. (1981). What written knowledge does: Three examples of academic discourse. Philosophy of the Social Sciences, 11, 361-387.
Mowat, C. (2001). Do universities breed illiteracy? Retrieved May 5, 2003, from http://www.wordsmithassociates.com/breed.htm
“Using the Work of Other Authors in Your Writing” from the Language Teaching Center, Central European University <http://www.ceu.hu/writing/sources.htm>