Writing, Knowledge, and the Call for Objectivity

Abstract

DURING THE LAST CLASS MEETING of every term, routinely ask my students to evaluate the course they have just finished and my performance as their instructor. From their remarks, often learn as much about their attitudes towards learning and their expectations of an education as do about my own strengths and weaknesses as a teacher. Last fall, when read my sophomores' evaluations of the English literature survey that taught, was disturbed to find these comments, among others like them, about the examinations had given: Discussion question counted to [sic] much; Maybe ask more Fill in blanks & Multiple choice. Some comments about grading always expect, but here the occasional complaint that graded too rigorously was incidental to a more basic objection. They were protesting that demanded of them too much writing, and they were volunteering that were both more appropriate and more desirable than the discussion had asked. For several reasons, this round of complaints gave me pause. In the first place, had not forced them to overexert themselves writing. Over the course of the semester, essay questions counted for only a little more than half the total number of points on their tests. Secondly, this was not the complaint of a single malcontent, for the theme surfaced in the evaluations of a large portion of the class. Finally, the more pondered their comments about writing in relation to objective questions, the more unnerving found their implications. What my class was suggesting in effect challenged some of the very premises of a humanistic liberal arts education-that is, precisely the kind of education in which the study of literature is important and meaningful. Admittedly, the tone of these evaluations remained generally restrained; on the whole, my students registered their objections with moderation. When tried to probe more deeply into their dissatisfaction, though, by inquiring specifically about their attitudes toward writing, uncovered a much more virulent strain of animosity and anger. One student commented tersely, I feel a 100 pt. essay question is ridiculous, and most of his classmates seemed to agree. An overwhelming majority felt they did better on objective questions than on essay questions, and a similar number reported that they preferred objective questions to essays. Almost half the class even confessed that they had considered not taking one course or another at the university because they knew in advance that they would be expected to do some