Bringing Moby-Dick to the People: A Reading Marathon as a Class Community Engagement Project

PALS Note: We are thrilled to have this guest post by Marlowe Daly-Galeano, an associate professor of English at Lewis-Clark State College, about a class project to develop and host a reading marathon of Moby-Dick. Read more about the project below and let us know if you plan your own reading marathon! 

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student-designed artwork

Of Whales in Paint: When It Comes to Service Learning, Don’t Forget the Arts.

College campuses across the country celebrate the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. by offering opportunities for students and faculty to participate in acts of service and community engagement. At my institution, these include a variety of projects such as walking shelter dogs, stocking the shelves of the food pantry, and helping at the veteran’s home. In our current moment—when the arts and humanities are often under-supported—I’d like to suggest that in addition to valuable outreach opportunities like these, we should also strive to provide service and community engagement opportunities that connect people to the arts.

Last semester, in both of my American literature courses, I encouraged students to recognize that literature is neither created nor consumed in a vacuum. It is easy to joke, as I have been wont to do, that English majors have no practical skills or that reading is a leisurely act disconnected from the world. But those ideas are both false and pernicious. I have tried to move away from making these kinds of self-deprecating jokes, which undervalue my profession and my students, to take a stance as an advocate for the value of the arts and those who are trained to critique and appreciate them. As part of this endeavor, students in my nineteenth-century American literature senior seminar designed and hosted an all-day reading marathon of Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick for our community. My graduate program at the University of Arizona hosted a Milton Marathon every year, during which Paradise Lost was read aloud over the course of a day, so I knew that a reading marathon could be a powerful way for a community to engage with oral tradition and an individual text. When I learned of the Moby-Dick reading marathons at New Bedford and Mystic Seaport, I knew it was something I wanted to do. Combining that interest with a desire to implement service learning and community engagement into my teaching led me to this approach.

In this post, I will elaborate on that event as a model for a class community engagement assignment. While the beginning and end of this post focus on the larger rationale and take-away from a literature-based community engagement event, the middle sections detail the preparation and implementation of the event for any of you who want to host your own reading marathon or similar community engagement event on your campus.

One of the learning objectives for my course was to “Communicate the relevance of studying literature to the broader community in which we live and work, through participation in—and reflection of—community events.” From the first day of class, students understood that not only would they be reading Moby-Dick, but they also would be responsible for sharing Melville’s novel with our campus and community. The community engagement event and reflection assignment accounted for 20% of their semester grade, carrying the same weight as their term paper and discussion participation grades. It was treated as a major assignment rather than an extra. I believe that by giving the assignment this much weight, I encouraged students to recognize the true value of community engagement. Yes, this was a fun assignment, but it was not built into the syllabus just for fun; it was designed to emphasize the ways that literature and the arts affect and transform communities. That is important work that we must take seriously.

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Sometimes an engaged community looks like this

Loomings: Our Study of the Novel

Our first reading assignment included the extracts, chapters one through six, and Melville’s essay, “Hawthorne and His Mosses.” Using “Hawthorne and His Mosses,” we explored Melville’s theory of Romanticism, focused on the idea of “the dark characters,” and pondered why Hawthorne was so important to Melville’s project. Although I’ll admit that the students may not have been as smitten with this essay as I am, it did help them to see Melville as a writer in conversation with others, which would be one of the ideas our community engagement project would emphasize.

The majority of the seminar students were reading Moby-Dick for the first time, though some had read “The Whiteness of the Whale” or other excerpts in the literature survey. We spent three and a half weeks reading and discussing the novel. The longest reading assignment was about 100 pages from the Norton Critical edition. One class period within this unit was a designated reading day, on which no class was held. I’ve found that scheduling a reading day during a long text helps students stay motivated and reduces fatigue, thereby making the discussions more successful.

Because this class was a senior seminar, students were more responsible for their own learning, and they signed up in advance for discussion leadership days. Their discussion leadership approaches varied. Some students began their discussions by having their classmates write or share reactions. One student brought a large stack of cards, featuring uncaptioned photographs. He asked each student to choose cards that represented a character in Moby-Dick and to explain their choice of cards. Discussion leaders also guided us through the close reading of a passage of their choice. These student-led discussions allowed the class to explore the novel in minute and broad ways. When I was not leading the discussion, I tried to be fairly quiet, requiring students to take ownership. Although being quiet in the classroom can be hard for me, it is empowering for students. They were not able learn passively; they had to lead discussions (and help their classmates by participating actively in the discussions), which mandated that they come to class prepared to engage deeply. I think this engagement translated into an enthusiasm for the novel that they were then able to share with the community.

During one class period in which there was no assigned student discussion leader, I presented a lecture on Melville, whaling, and criticism. I geeked out by showing parts of the American Experience documentary Into the Deep: America, Whaling & the World, which is pretty much my favorite thing in the world. While the film provides background on the politics, mechanics, and economy of American whaling, I love it because it cannot separate that history from a Romantic treatment of the whaling industry that, for modern readers, is inseparable from our appreciation of Moby-Dick. To prepare for my lecture, I also consulted Greg Specter’s resources here on PALS along with the critical apparatus in the Norton edition.

Going Aboard: Event Preparations

After we finished reading the novel, we devoted several class periods or parts of class periods to planning for the event. I had to arrange the date and location of the event prior to the start of the semester, but students were responsible for making all other decisions. Most of the students had never attended a reading marathon. Before our first planning session, students listened to the Chapters podcast “A Moby Dick Marathon at Mystic Seaport” to become more familiar with how a reading marathon works.

Planning: The class decided on the food offerings, helped to hang promotional posters, solicited, made, and provided prizes, designed and made bookmarks, broadsides, and coasters, and determined the selection of chapters to be read aloud. Since we lack the resources and population to host a full twenty-four-hour marathon on our campus, our “1/2” marathon featured about nine hours of reading. (And, yes, I recognize that “1/2” is a bit of an exaggeration, but “1/3 marathon” lacks panache!) Students determined the time it would take to read each chapter and created a schedule of chapters.

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Promotional flyer

Visuals: Because a reading marathon is a largely auditory experience, students worked to create visual elements for our event. On each table, they placed blue candy (to evoke water), copies of the novel for those who wanted to read along, and printed coasters made by students enrolled in the letter-press class. Throughout the marathon a slideshow looped. Students gathered images for the slideshow that included photos of whales, ships, covers of various editions of the novel, Melville and Moby-Dick cartoons, and whaling illustrations. We also prepared a handout for attendees. One side of the handout provided background information on Melville and Moby-Dick. The other explained the mechanics of a reading marathon. The handout let attendees know that they should sit in “Reader’s Row” if they wanted to read out loud and that they could come and go as they pleased during the day. We also created an exhibit table, on which we placed copies of other books by Melville as well as books and movies related to Melville studies, whaling, and Moby-Dick.

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Exhibit table 

 

Sponsorship and Support: My department had T-shirts designed for the event, which were provided to all of the students in the class and faculty who requested them. We also ordered extra T-shirts for prizes. I approached our rep at W.W. Norton & Company about sponsoring the event. Norton provided the podium copy of the novel (which I pre-marked with the selected chapters) in addition to some tote bags, pens, and critical editions for prizes. The critical editions were particularly appreciated by the English majors! Students solicited donations from other organizations, including the campus coffee shop and our local movie theater. I invited both the dean and the college president, and our dean enthusiastically accepted the invitation to be our opening reader.

The Chase: The Unfolding of An Event

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Our music professor takes a turn at the podium

The Day: Our event was scheduled from 8:30 am to 6:00 pm, and students were asked to be there for as much of the day as they could. All of the students were present during the opening chapter, our regularly scheduled class period, the reading of the final chapter, and the closing celebration. They signed up for additional blocks of time throughout the day, so that we generally had at least half of the class present at any given moment. My early American survey class spent their class period at the marathon that day, and many ended up staying for much longer.

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Folks who stayed for the whole marathon made themselves comfortable

Roles: Students rotated between different roles throughout the day. One person stood near the door to give out the handouts we had prepared. Another updated the “Now Reading Chapter ___” and “Up Next” dry-erase board. One gave readers an “I Read at the Moby-Dick Half Marathon” sticker and bookmark after they stepped down from the podium. One was the MC when we took reading breaks to give out prizes. If they weren’t occupied with a particular job, students read along or got in line at “Reader’s Row” to read a selection of the novel. I encouraged each student to take a turn as a reader, and although some were reluctant to take the podium, in the end they all ended up reading a chapter or portion of a chapter.

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Sign for Reader’s Row

Modifications: Although we had created a reading schedule for the event, readers all have their own pace, and at one point we were behind schedule and decided to cut a few chapters from our line-up. As we neared the end of the novel, we found ourselves well ahead of schedule and added additional chapters.

Fortification: Breakfast and lunch foods were served during the day, and there was a steady stream of coffee consumed throughout the event. The students and I supplemented the college food services offerings with some event-themed foods, including whale crackers, oranges and bananas with whale stickers on them, and “Mrs. Hussey’s rolls.”

Celebration: Following the reading of “The Chase,” all participants read the epilogue aloud in unison. We then honored our achievement with a sparkling cider toast and cut into “The Whiteness of the Cake” (an idea we stole from the Mystic Seaport marathon).

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The whiteness of the cake and student-designed coasters

Epilogue: Reflection

I have found Vanderbilt University’s Center for Teaching a helpful resource on service learning and community engagement. There, Eyler and Giles offer a definition of service learning that emphasizes the reciprocal relationship between experiential action and learning reflection (qtd. in Bandy, “What is Service Learning or Community Engagement?”). To ensure my students met our learning objective, the final step of the community engagement assignment required them to reflect on the strengths and weaknesses of their event. Each student completed an evaluation of the reading marathon, in which they scored various aspects, from the success of our publicity efforts to the quality of the food. The evaluations indicated that we could have done a better job publicizing the event, the food was acceptable, and the audience engagement was very high. In addition to completing this evaluation, they responded to questions about what they learned from hosting and participating in the event and what they would take away from it.

I confess that I enjoyed reading their responses as much as I liked the marathon itself. Their observations and reflections were insightful and charming. One student’s “Reading marathons > Running marathons” statement still makes me giggle. Several students commented that hearing the book read aloud showed them that literature can be enjoyed in various ways, something we tend to forget in a culture that privileges visuals over sound. Some found the novel funnier when they heard it read aloud, and one noticed the extensiveness of Melville’s alliteration. One of my brave colleagues had the challenge of taking the podium for the “Stubb’s Supper” chapter, an experience which emphasized the difficulty of reading dialect and vernacular. When we discussed the event afterwards, students all agreed that it was very special to hear so many different voices reading the book. While a few of the readers offered a nearly flawless reading, most stumbled, paused, mispronounced something, or lost their places occasionally. In these imperfections, the participants were able to recognize the unique and special human experience we were all a part of.

One student realized that a novel can be appreciated in segments and parts, in addition to having a value as a whole work. “Most people who came,” this student observed, “ seemed to enjoy just the parts [of Moby-Dick] they heard/read. It was fascinating to see that this is a method through which people who haven’t read the whole book can come to appreciate it.” My students, like so many English majors, are accustomed to literature as a solitary experience, but one observed, “There is a lot to be gained from participating in it communally.” Another found that exposure to literature may be all it takes to attract new readers, responding, “My partner joined us for a little while and . . . enjoyed the event. My take-away was that if you can get them in the room, non-literary lovers will enjoy themselves.” (Our work is done!)

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Student artwork

I think that hosting our community engagement event helped my students develop professional skills in event planning, publicity, and communications. They could discuss this experience in a job interview or application. I know it gave them the opportunity to articulate what the arts do and why they matter—a skill I hope they will continue to practice in their personal and professional lives. I was gratified to learn from feedback my students and I received, that our event generated new Melville enthusiasts in our community, and, in some cases, it may have converted even the most reluctant reader. One student who attended the event told me, “My girlfriend told me Moby-Dick was stupid. She was totally wrong!”

Perhaps one of the greatest services a Moby-Dick Half Marathon provides is to demystify this big, intimidating American novel, a novel that people think is too hard or too boring or too weird for common appreciation. Even if we don’t catch all of Melville’s references—and who does?—or grasp all of the metaphysics, there is much to value with every new experience of this novel. My class and other participants recognized and enjoyed MobyDick’s complexity, but they also experienced its humor, its pleasure, and its bare narrative power. In the end, I hope the reading marathon showed everyone who participated that literature and community exist in a rich, dynamic, evolving conversation.

BIO: Marlowe Daly-Galeano is associate professor of English at Lewis-Clark State College, where she teaches courses in American literature, writing, and humanities.

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Writing Better Teaching Philosophies

 

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via EmilyRachelMartin

If you have ever put together job applications or promotion packets, you know how difficult it can be to write a teaching philosophy. Most job documents feel more clear cut than the teaching philosophy—outlining your research, for example, is something that we have all practiced with every abstract that we have written. But the teaching philosophy is more amorphous. It is supposed to be at once practical and theoretical. It is supposed to show who you are as a teacher but not be too focused on yourself. It should present the current you and give the committee a vision of the future you. How does one go about achieving this? A lot of the generic advice out there is pretty bad, so we at PALS have put together a post that gives some tips on how to approach your teaching philosophy in order to make it a useful document which shows off your strengths as a teacher and allows anyone reading it to get a glimpse into your classroom. First, we start with some resources. Then, we think about the big picture goals of the philosophy, and finally, some advice for revision. The usual caveat to our PALS advice–that we are all Humanities, specifically English trained–remains true for this roundtable.

Before you Start:

Advice on Resources from Randi Tanglen

There are several excellent (and free) online resources available to colleagues writing their philosophies of teaching and learning. Here are a few that have been useful to me and the faculty members I work with at the Johnson Center for Faculty Development and Excellence in Teaching at Austin College.

Neil Haave’s short article “Six Questions That Will Bring Your Teaching Philosophy Into Focus” asks instructors to link their past experiences as learners to their current teaching practice. By reflecting on unforgettable learning experiences as students, instructors may be able to better articulate their own teaching values and goals in a teaching philosophy.

The Faculty Focus blog offers a free report on “Philosophy of Teaching Statements: Examples and Tips on How to Write a Teaching Philosophy Statement.” However, you must sign up for their free newsletter (a great teaching resource, and they won’t spam you) in order to download the report. This 21-page report includes several short articles on approaches to the teaching philosophy genre depending on audience, purpose, and discipline. I especially appreciate the last article in the report, “Writing a Teaching Philosophy Statement: Why, What and How” because of its practical, nuts-and-bolts advice. Those on the job market will like the article right before it, “Teaching Philosophy Statements Prepared by Faculty Candidates.”

A Google search will lead to any number of college and university teaching center sites with sample teaching philosophies. I have found the site at The Ohio State University’s Center for the Advancement of Teaching to be particularly useful with concrete tips and several samples of teaching philosophies from a variety of disciplines, including one from English.

I hope these resources are helpful to those writing their teaching philosophies. Best of luck!

As You Work:

Caitlin Kelly on the Aims of a Teaching Philosophy

There are two main routes you can take when you are beginning to craft a teaching statement: philosophical/theoretical route or the applied/practicum route. In the former, you set out your overarching theory of teaching and in the latter you focus in specific activities and assignments that you use in your classes. In my writing center work with doctoral candidates and postdoctoral fellows, I’ve seen both approaches but the most captivating teaching statements, regardless of discipline, always lean toward a focus on application. My advice to job applicants then is to try to find a balance between the two that fits your discipline’s expectations and the type of job to which you are applying. I tend to lend toward a 15/85 split between theory and practice. That said, I’m applying for teaching-intensive generalist and writing faculty positions, and it makes sense that they would respond favorably to more a focus on classroom application where that might not be as appropriate for a research position. Plus, for generalist and writing positions, which are often NTT, those hiring processes often do not included campus visits–in those cases, the teaching statement is doing the work of the teaching demonstration.

So here’s what I do: my teaching statement is just a bit short of 2 pages single-spaced, and each paragraph includes 1 or 2 vivid descriptions of assignments or class activities. Because of the type of jobs I apply to, I need the document to be as versatile and efficient as possible, and so I make sure that my examples represent activities that would work in both literature and composition courses and everything in between. I also unify the document by identifying a single goal—for me, that’s cultivating curiosity in my students. So, after I identify and describe why I focus on curiosity in my courses, the following paragraphs outline the key approaches and strategies I rely on for doing that. Those paragraphs are then supported with the vivid examples I described earlier. I return to the common theme of cultivating curiosity at the end of the statement. Thus, the theoretical or philosophical approach acts as a framing device, supported by my vivid descriptions of assignments and activities.

I’d also highly recommend that advanced graduate students and NTT faculty in particular check in with their campus writing center and faculty development or teaching centers for help crafting and revising teaching statements and other job materials. We often don’t think of these units as resources for us, but many writing centers these days serve faculty as well as students, and most teaching centers and faculty development offices are happy to work with graduate students.

Time to Revise:

Brianne Jaquette on Revising with a Critical Eye

I remember the first teaching philosophy that I ever wrote, which was more like a list of courses that I taught than any concrete explanation of my teaching. In my second philosophy, one of the first things that I did was take out the lists—of classes I taught, of texts I taught, of goals I had for my students. I had wanted to be comprehensive, but after seeing examples of teaching philosophies and getting advice on writing one, I realized that it should be less about giving the scope of your teaching and more about allowing the reader a glimpse into the present of your teaching. I don’t mean present as in explain the gift that you are to the teaching profession. I am suggesting that the reader should feel immersed in your teaching from reading your statement. The first thing I do when I revise a statement is ask: at what distance am I keeping my reader? Is this an overview of my whole teaching career or a look into what I am trying to achieve as a teacher? (In my opinion, it should be the latter.)

My second piece of advice is to look for moments when your text has energy and revise with a focus on spreading that energy throughout your text. I always love to write about moments in the classroom. My teaching philosophies are best at that level. When I revise, I think about how I can make my discussion of assignments as dynamic as my talk about what an exciting lesson is like. I still remember the first time I felt that energy from a teaching philosophy. I read the opening of the teaching philosophy where the teacher described an in-class activity, and I thought, “Oh, I want to do that in my class.” This happened several years ago, and at this point, I only vaguely remember what that activity was, but I remember who wrote that teaching philosophy, and I remember that moment of recognition. If you can find those moments in your own statement, then you should use them to guide the shape of your essay. Can you lead with that dynamic energy and then take your reader to a more practical or a more theoretical level (depending on where teaching comes alive for you)?

What that excellent teaching philosophy did was connect to my interest as a teacher. I would also suggest that it is useful to remember that your audience is primarily other teachers. Connect to the reader as a teacher. You don’t have to drop the latest pedagogy terms or name the theorist everyone is discussing. What you have to do is to connect the teacher in you to the teacher in whoever is reading it. I would think about what gets you the most excited about teaching and also what parts of teaching you love to chat about with other teachers. Tap into that feeling, into that excitement and draft your philosophy from that place.

Finally, the best teaching philosophy advice I ever received was about the arc that your philosophy should take. For me, it is important to not just stay in the nitty gritty of the classroom (because that is where I would stay if given the chance). I want to give the readers the scope of my teaching from moments in the classroom to the big picture of my course. I always try to hit the classroom experience, then discuss assignments or bigger themes in my courses, and finally I move to the bigger takeaways of my teaching. This order might be different for you depending on how you shape your essay, but as you revise, think about the levels on which you need to describe your work. Your philosophy should move the reader from the start to finish through time and space in your classroom. A too narrow focus or a too broad one does not allow the reader to obtain a sense of your vision as a teacher. Sometimes we think of this as showing who you are as a teacher. I would rephrase this slightly and think about what goes into your teaching and how you can weave the semester together from beginning to end and from tiny moments to overarching narratives.

Shape and Reshape and Shape Again:

Shelli Homer on Packaging that Statement for Application Requirements

After you have read all the tips about writing your statement of teaching philosophy, read samples and found strong models, drafted your own statement, and revised and revised that statement into a beautiful final product, it is time to acknowledge that it is never done and you will be required to hack it all to pieces over and over again to meet requirements of each job to which you choose to apply.

Even a document like a teaching philosophy, which seems like it would transfer across job positions because it is your philosophy for teaching, is individual to each job application. Are you applying to teach literature or writing courses, or both? What does your teaching philosophy need to do to reflect your awareness of that.

The 2-Page Teaching Philosophy

It is fabulous to have 2 single space pages to fill with your teaching philosophy. You can breathe; you have the time and space to develop your philosophy on the page for your readers. As the advice above suggests, you can describe what your classroom looks like, how certain assignments function, what students take away from both of those things, and discuss what you value as an educator. You can build a complex image of yourself as an instructor. You might end up with multiple versions of this document to meet the various needs of the different positions you will apply to.

The 1-page Teaching Philosophy

Then a job app asks for a 1-page statement of teaching philosophy. You have to speed up your pacing, cut pieces of explanation or examples that you spent a lot of time crafting in the longer document, and pare down your overall philosophy.  You are essentially creating a new document. In paring down your philosophy, you might go slightly broader so you can still get in the main concepts you want to articulate. Or, you might go more narrow, showing one piece of your overall philosophy and frame it as such. Since you are choosing this piece to represent you, it can be helpful to let readers know both that it is one small piece and why this is the piece you are choosing to showcase.

The 2-Paragraph Teaching Philosophy

Now we have a job app that asks for your teaching philosophy to be incorporated into your cover letter, along with everything else. Perhaps that cover letter is a 2-page document; you will go back to that 1-page draft of your teaching philosophy and figure out how much of it you can use. But a cover letter is a document with a different tone and the way you discuss your teaching philosophy could likely look very different.You are now reshaping it to fit within and make sense connected to what you include in the rest of the letter.

The 1-Paragraph Teaching Philosophy

Finally, let’s take this a step further and imagine that the requirements for that cover letter cut it down to a 1-page letter, which cuts your teaching philosophy down to 1-paragraph. This isn’t a lengthy paragraph. Now you have maybe one sentence to do each of the things listed in the above advice. If it was challenging to give a hiring committee a sense of who you are as a teaching in 2-pages or 1-page, it is an entirely different kind of challenge to articulate it in 1-paragraph. In many ways, all of that earlier advice goes out the window. It is time to get very direct.

After You’re Finished:

Our teaching philosophies should be alive. Every course we teach, every learning experience we have, and every student interaction should refine how we see ourselves as teachers. Don’t get stuck in the past. And sometimes revising that document means opening a new one and not looking at your previous versions at all.

If you want to keep practicing the newly minted skills you have developed while writing your teaching philosophy, consider pitching a guest post to PALS. As is true with all writing, doing it makes you better at it. Practicing writing about teaching with a PALS guest post will sharpen your vision of your own pedagogy and make the next philosophy that much easier to write.