I recently began reading Rebecca Solnit’s The Encyclopedia of Trouble and Spaciousness. I love her description of the book:
I imagine my book to have a similar breadth. What types of writing do I want to incorporate? Syllabi, lecture notes, marginalia, class rules? Journal entries? Tweets? Excerpts from my blog?
Since my last processing post on November 17th, I’ve been continuing to work on my new book project. I didn’t post here because I was stuck, trying to work through some anger I had with two online articles I was reading about professors and academic values. I filled up about 14 pages in my green notebook with my notes, but I devoted (wasted?) all of my energy on crafting a blog post for my Trouble blog, which I finally managed to complete yesterday: Beside/s: What’s the Point of a Professor?
Here’s one of my pages from the notebook. It includes my dissecting of a passage from one of the online articles, Keith M. Parsons’ Message to my Freshman Students:
I’m not done working with some of the questions that this article, and the others that I blogged about, raised for me and this writing project. Hopefully, my future processing/writing won’t get me as stuck as I was this past week.
Right before I got stuck thinking about what a professor is and attempting to move beyond the answer that I feared was the only one, an arrogant asshole, I found a book that I’m really excited to analyze for this project: Imaginary Syllabi.
As I began to skim through the book I got excited, especially after reading Jane Sprague’s description of the book’s purpose:
A book-length project of contributions by multiple authors that aims to collect writings which investigate, uncover, examine, complicate, question, provoke, and otherwise (essentially) challenge pedagogical strategies pursuant to the work of teaching writing and other disciplines. This book includes writings which dream up, concoct and explore utopian, fabulist, fantasy syllabi for potential imagined or real classroom endeavors. Educational projects undertaken and employed (deployed) in and outside of official as well as mongrel “schools.” Official spaces might harbor (or cultivate) the mongrel and vice versa (8).
Jane Sprague, ed.
Cool! Maybe I want to create some of my own un/imagined courses? Dream classes that I wouldn’t be able to teach within traditional academic spaces?
In addition to looking through Imaginary Syllabi, I also started reading Rebecca Solnit’s Encyclopedia of Trouble and Spaciousness. The varied (spacious) hodge-podge of non-fiction writing forms included in this book inspires me. I’m looking forward to reading/analyzing what Solnit has included and how/why.
After reading Lynda Barry’s Syllabus, I was inspired to be more creative in my writing notes. Here are two recent pages:
I’m deep in the midst of working on a new book project about my stories as an (ex?) teacher and educator. So far, researching it has been a lot of fun. Right now, I’m still thinking about syllabi as format and content. Here are a few more sources that I want to review in the next few days:
A syllabus with fifteen week-long lessons on learning how to draw and “write with pictures.”
This ‘classroom in a book’ provides the aspiring cartoonist with a practical means for creative self-discovery and the exploration of complex ideas through the iconic visual language of comics (1).
About this Book
In quickly reviewing this book, I’m inspired to think again about structuring my project as a syllabus. But, would it work as well? I especially like how he incorporates his philosophy and personal reflections into his introduction and syllabus parts. He also includes some snark. It almost feels like an intervention into the syllabus-as-usual (dry, boring, boiler-plate, overly practical).
I’m struck by the differences between Brunetti’s and Barry’s tone/approach. Barry cites Brunetti as one of her key mentors. Part of the differences are because these are different projects. Brunetti’s book is an actual syllabus with lessons, while Barry’s book is a collection of reflections on and artifacts from her syllabi/classes. But, there’s more to the differences between their books.
While Barry’s pages were crammed with images, doodles and hand-written and typed text, Brunetti’s pages are sparse with a simple typed font and lots of white space. His images are almost exclusively on separate pages, not mixed in with the text like Barry’s are. Both exude a passion for teaching and drawing, but Barry expresses her passion with more enthusiasm and vigor (as evidenced through her reflections, illustrations and gushing notes about/to students), while Brunetti employs sarcasm, self-deprecating humor and the ridiculing of “bad” students.*
*note: I’m basing my assessment of Brunetti on his syllabus and a very brief look at his 15 lessons. Since I’m thinking about “taking” his course, I don’t want to spoil it by reading ahead.
I would like my tone to be somewhere between these two, enthusiastic without too much gushing (and crowded images/text) or too much cynical distance (and sparse pages).