To wrap up this semester, our class was asked to tell a story about our experience with criticism. Specifically if we had formed any questions, discovered any answers, and whether we will bring what we did learn into our future. Initially I found this prompt daunting, primarily because this class has altered my outlook on learning so much. However, I ended up honing in on one trait that I saw affect both my personal and academic life.
I would describe myself as a fairly introverted person. I try to open up to new experiences and people, but I often prefer my own company. This trait did not always mesh well with the high school requirement of group work. For various reasons, it was an experience I always dreaded. My personality was coupled with a shyness that made it difficult to voice my opinions over those more vocal. I was similarly cautious when it came to sharing my work; I was less confident, and terrified of public “failure.” Overall, I usually preferred to keep to myself. Group work was my least favorite part of high school, and I had assumed it would become harder to avoid once I entered college. As I’m sure those in this section of ENG 203 can confirm, I was right; there was never a week in Dr. McCoy’s class that did not involve some element of group work or peer interaction. I don’t think I can recall a single day where we were left entirely alone, without interacting with any fellow students in some way or another. Once I realized this, I began to internally regret my choice to take this course.
Initially, I wasn’t open to any change. My first blog post demonstrates this: there is no acknowledgement of any of my peers. I brought up almost nothing from either our in-class discussions or group work, despite having attended all of the classes up to that point. This is representative of my resistance to change and peer interaction. I could see the assignment; on the syllabus, our class was explicitly encouraged to reference outside sources and our peers. While I did want to do well in the class, I initially ignored this part of the grade. Later, in my second post, I began to make something resembling an effort. Even so, while I may have referenced class itself more, I still was not truly continuing a class conversation or beginning a new thread of discussion. Although my grade did improve somewhat, something about the post still felt incomplete. After this, I had a breakthrough of sorts.
My post “Sex, Power, and Control” seemed to check all of the right boxes, and I was truly proud of it. Though in hindsight, the largest improvement I saw went beyond a grade: this post was where I began to recognize my peers. In this specific instance, I’ll thank Choi for inspiring me. I heard repeated mention of his opinion of the sex in the novel Frenzy, mostly because Dr. McCoy consistently pushed him to unpack his statements. I began to consider this discussion myself outside of class. At this point, I think a new openness in me began to grow, and it continued to do so throughout the rest of my blog posts. Granted, some posts did not explicitly mention other students, but they were a minority. Upon reflection, I realize that practicing criticism in this class forced me to question my personal value of group work. Essentially, I contemplated the potential benefits of working with others, of which I found many.
The input of others is priceless in the field of literary criticism, and I realized this as the semester carried on. First of all, discussion with peers is a wonderful way to refine your own theses. In the past, I was terrified of voicing my ideas out of a fear of criticism. But repeatedly working with other students has made me far more receptive. With this newfound acceptance for outside input, I am now able to improve my ideas in brand new ways. If I had remained resistant to the counsel of others, I would continue to be restricted from my goal of reaching my potential as a writer. In a similar vein, group discussion allows someone to learn things that they may not have realized themselves about a novel, and provide inspiration for new trains of thought. This was very often the case in this class; although not mentioned by name, Analiese was the inspiration for my blog post about faces because of her shock at “the number of his name” (Everett, 28) in the poem “Zulus”. I would have never keyed into this idea had I not witnessed her reaction, and an idea would have been forever lost to me. These are just a few of the benefits to becoming open to group work.
This leads me to another value of group work, one that lies underneath every assertion made prior. Every human being is different; this can be interpreted many ways, but one particular example is that every student in this course has a different major or minor. It is an English class, but we are not all English students. My peers were biology, psychology, philosophy majors: the list goes on. This variety of backgrounds gives rise to a rich diversity of discussion. These various academic focuses also show that every student has different areas of interest, and often someones individual passion would connect to an in-class idea. This allowed me to see points of view that I would not have access to otherwise. Such a vast assortment of perspectives lead to an improvement in my own work, as my inspirations for writing developed more when considering new information. I had new routes for thinking when I began to consider the input of those who specialized in subjects I had no experience with. With this in mind, the answer to my question came to me. I think Joe Moran worded it perfectly in Interdisciplinarity when he wrote “[t]he purpose of literary criticism…is to heal this tragic division which has blighted the past few centuries and in this sense his criticism is retrospectively interdisciplinary: culture and society have become separated from one another, and the rift needs to be mended through the integrated study possible within a university discipline” (Moran, 36). A divide between each student has always existed, especially when each of us specializes in a particular field. However, literary criticism grants the opportunity to break down those barriers, as I saw happen through the encouraged group work. Every participant was able to provide unique and valuable input on the literature at hand, enriching our discussion incomparably. When considering ways to improve as an English student and the potential benefits to group work, I saw a large amount of my semester-long evolution as both an academic and a person as a result of said group work. I think this same improvement can be seen across all who practice literary criticism if there is a willingness to acknowledge the perspectives of peers and “outsiders”.
When it came to English, I hardly listened to what others had to say about the literary work in question, and was often protective of my own work due to fear of judgement. However, this course always pushed me outside of my doggedly guarded comfort zone, and consequently forced me to consider the value of working with others. By the end of this course, I’ve concluded that embracing the input of others vastly improves the quality of my work, and appears to do the same for my peers as well. Not only did this affect me in English, but I find myself more open to group work in outside courses. When I opened myself up in other classes, I saw the same improvements made in English in the rest of my work as well. The consistent in-class group work from ENG 203 allowed me to listen and respond to ideas I would have no way of learning otherwise. This was also enforced outside of class, as the ENG 203 blog became a sort of enormous group itself, a place where everyone was encouraged to acknowledge and respond to their peers on their own individual post. I found that others read my posts for their own inspiration, and vice versa. This semester forced me to question my stubborn convictions about group activity, and thus consider what benefits I may gain from changing my tune. I learned that there is nothing more valuable to writing and personal growth than interacting with others, and that other perspectives vastly improve ones own academic work. As our authorial focus Percival Everett said in “Zulus”, “[t]hin partitions do their bounds divide” (Everett, 15). Once I realized how flimsy the imagined barriers between myself and others was, I was able to tap into my potential both as a writer and as a vocal participant in an academic setting.