Critical Expressivism- Theory and Practice in the Composition Classroom, 2014a

“Is it Possible to Teach Writing So That People Stop Killing Each Other?”
that self-understanding to others. Learning to write so that you will be read,
therefore, vitalizes both the self and the community” (1993, p. 58). Preemptively
asking the question her reader might be formulating—“What Does This
Have to do With Nonviolence?”—O’Reilley argues that “war begins in banality,
the suppression of the personal and idiosyncratic” (1993, p. 59) and in linguistic
abstractions such as “sacrifice” and “glory” (drawing on terms taken from
Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms) (1993, p. 60). Abstractions have their place,
she notes, “particularly in manipulating broad areas of cultural consensus,” but
“before we buy into an abstraction, we need to know what we think” (1993,
p. 60). Here again she writes of the connection between the personal and the
communal, but in this case, rather than focusing on how the community must
bring the individual vision into check, O’Reilley reverses the argument: socially-constructed,
and possibly dangerous, abstractions must be checked against
individual perspectives and experiences.
Claims about the importance of the individual viewpoint for nonviolence
are also advanced in Michael Blitz and C. Mark Hurlbert’s 1998 Letters for the
Living: Teaching Writing in a Violent Age. Blitz and Hurlbert suggest that their
work “is one attempt to peel away some theoretical abstractions so that we might
better understand the personal and culture implications of what each student
is telling us, the uniqueness of each student, of each life. No one encounters
violence or peace in general. The experience of each is always unique” (Blitz
& Hurlbert, 1998, p. 21). With Blitz and Hurlbert, unlike in The Peaceable
Classroom, samples of personal experience-based student texts make up a sizable
percentage of the book; it is this direct inclusion of student writing that perhaps
most distinguishes Letters for the Living as a “composition” work (despite her
interest in the teaching of writing, O’Reilley might be said to identify more
as a literature scholar and poet than a compositionist). The book, however, is
similar to O’Reilley’s in a couple of key ways: it foregrounds a writing pedagogy
that asks students to bring their subjective experiences into conversation with a
community; and it is itself written in a highly personal style, although structured
mainly as a chronological transcript of an ongoing email exchange between the
co-authors. Blitz and Hurlbert muse about the role of violence—and peace—in
their students’ lives as well as their own. The three main textual threads running
through the book—the authors’ messages to each other, their students’ writing
(mostly embedded in the email message texts), and the jointly-authored commentary
in between—add up to a more intense version of the familiar backand-forth
between student writing and researcher commentary often seen in
composition studies literature. In some sections, the effect is soothing, as these
two friends trade late night messages. But in any given chapter, the reader is never
far from a jarring personal account from a student: a neighborhood murder,
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