In "The Changing Nature of Writing: Prose or Code in the Classroom," Alan Rea and Doug White assert: "Most of the information students receive outside the classroom is a multimedia experience.... Asking them to use print solely for expression goes against how most communication takes place in the world outside of academia" (421). They argue for the teaching of code in the classroom claiming that "[s]ooner or later most Web [sic] users want to become Web [sic] writers." David Chapman, whose article title-- "A Luddite in Cyberland, Or How to Avoid Being Snared by the Web" --would seem to indicate that these authors' are writing from conflicting viewpoints, is actually operating under the same assumption that Rea and White are: the web is radically changing all of the elements of the writing process and as teachers it is our responsibility to navigate and guide students through these changed (and changing) processes. Both articles are concerned with the ways that computers are now fitting into our lives as writers and teachers. Chapman expresses his concern that the ease of computer research will result in a deficit of print research (which according to Chapman is more valuable). Chapman is certain that computer research is vastly inferior to the brick-and-mortar library research of academia. In fact, he goes so far as to say: "The Web has the potential to sacrifice the quality of sources used by students in research for the ready availability of Web sources" and, in an out-and-out disavowal of Rea and White's argument, "It has the potential to distract students away from the analysis and reflection at the heart of a college education as they focus on the superficial appearance of documents" (252). Wow. I am so screwed. Not only have I been teaching writing all wrong, I've been doing it all wrong myself!

So, let's make it all about me. Where does my teaching fit into Chapman's issues with web research? Yesterday, I spoke with my students about this very topic. We had already discussed the importance of evaluating sources and verifying the accuracy of information. [Of course we don't want our students using questionable and even erroneous sources of information. But, as we all know, the web doesn't have a monopoly on those.] Connecting the potential errors to concerns regarding ethos, students seemed to take this more seriously. This is, in fact, one of the reasons that I believe web writing to be such a useful form. Because they have a "real" audience, because there is a chance that people other than me and their classmates will see their writing, their investment becomes intertwined with the way they present themselves to the outside world. A poorly written and designed and inadequately researched site reflects poorly on them; in fact, it isn't a stretch to say that they would be embarrassed by it (something that many folks avoid at all costs; second only to pain and fear) whereas they would be significantly (if at all) embarrassed if their only audience was the instructor. Now I'm not arguing that we should use fear of embarrassment to shame and frighten students into being more committed writers. On the contrary, well-written, well-designed, and thoroughly researched web writing is a product that students can feel proud of; perhaps it is even something they could share with parents and friends. Investment is a good predictor of success.

So, yesterday I reminded students that there are in fact resources not available on the web and I encouraged them to seek out those resources and incorporate them into their work. However, having web sites that are heavily based in web resources reflects an important understanding of audience. According to usability experts like Bruce Tognazzini, users typically follow a hunter-gatherer approach to locating information on the web. They are more likely to value a site that provides them with access to other easily located sources. They hunt with search engines and gather information from sites. The promise of additional resources makes a site more appealing and the user more likely to remain on that site. (Personal conversation, March 2006) Given that we stress the importance of audience, it is unreasonable for us to expect our students to use sources that would be less valued by their intended audience. Just because we may attribute more value to them doesn't mean that they are inherently valuable and we would be doing students a disservice if we asked them to ignore their audience's needs in favor of what we want. (caveat--obviously this isn't always the case. I'm just making the point that this circumstance does exist.)

The problem that I see is that Chapman wants to make it a zero-sum game; you win or you lose but you can't do both. Research taken from the web is by default specious and web writing is inferior to its more thoughtful sibling, print text. For the most part I am probably preaching to the choir here, a fact that is largely indebted to articles like these. Articles that could now be seen as historical artifacts of computer and composition, our trail of theoretical bread crumbs. The argument that many composition instructors do not have the training to teach web design is true for instructors in many universities. Of course, this isn't the first new technology that particular generations of writing instructors have had to deal with. Prior to the popular use of the typewriter, documents were hand-written by students, which needless to say utilized different design features. Teachers were expected to learn that technology and they probably learned it along with their students. And that brings me back to embarrassment and fear--two emotions that are most responsible for avoidance. It seems to me that instructors are afraid of losing their status as knowledge-bearers, a role that has been ingrained in our educational paradigm. While many of us struggle against performing that role, we nonetheless attribute value that has been passed along to us. We have been taught to value the roles of teachers and print texts as bearers of knowledge. The thought of learning with our students is tied up in our own fear of embarrassment, our fear that our students will respect us less if we don't fulfill their expectation of teacher as knowledge-bearer.

It's all about balance, people. Oh, and it's about the people, the ones in our classroom. I like to call them students. We shouldn't forget that they are our audience and whether or not we meet their expectations of the teacher role is secondary to what we are able to teach them, both in content and in method of learning. Our own willingness to teach something that we are not already experts conveys both a personal bravery and the value of participatory education.