Interdisciplinarity vs. Intertextuality as Pertaining to Education

Intertextuality and Interdisciplinarity are closely linked in my opinion.  Intertextuality claims that all text comes from text that previously was in existence(Martinez Alforo). Interdisciplinarity is the mixture of separate subjects, thus making intertextuality interdisciplinary in that the concept of intertextuality sounds very much like the scientific concept of conservation of mass, which states that matter can neither be created nor destroyed (Antoine Lavoisier, 1789).

That being said, I believe that English is the most interdisciplinary subject. English covers material from many different subjects and is used every single day in every subject. You might read a book about science or history in English, and then you use English when you read and write for other classes. English is perhaps the most useful subject.

So why are people so confused as to why someone would choose an English major? To be honest, I’m not really an English major. I am an education major with a love of and concentration in English. When the time came to choose a concentration, English was the obvious choice for me. It covers the most bases and is the most useful, besides the fact that I absolutely love to read and write. Having English in my toolbox makes the most sense to me, as I can use it to learn about other subjects which i may have to teach. Why concentrate in science when I might need to teach history, or vice versa? English is the most logical choice for me.

What Is Education’s Purpose?

I have always truly enjoyed learning, and taken every opportunity I could to learn something new. No fact is too obscure or too seemingly unimportant. Take, for instance, what I found myself doing the other day in the Milne library after my brain was feeling a bit fried from my schoolwork: researching, and compiling a list of, strange units of measurement. Voluntarily. For my own amusement. Human beings are naturally curious, and learning satisfies this curiosity. Learning is a kind of growing which enables us to move forward as individuals and communities. It is a powerful tool, and helps people transcend both literal and figurative boundaries. And a lot of the time, it can actually be fun.

I often ask myself what the purpose of education is. Is it to satisfy that human curiosity, expand the mind, enrich students’ lives and prepare them for the responsibilities of citizens of modern democracy, promote higher thinking, and inspire lifelong learning? Or is it to tirelessly drill facts into their heads and get them ready for specific jobs, in the process deterring them from seeking knowledge outside of what is absolutely necessary? In other words, what is the value of earning a degree, for example, that ends up having no hand in the earner getting a job post-graduation?

I believe there should be a lot more to getting an education than just memorizing pieces of information necessary for your future career. A “liberal” education should satisfy both meanings of the term: it should be concerned with a general broadening of knowledge and opening of the mind, while also being an education applied generously, and in copious amounts. Aristotle, who was the first to organize knowledge into disciplines, believed that “there is a kind of education in which parents should have their sons trained not because it is necessary, or because it is useful, but simply because it is liberal and something good in itself” (Aristotle 1961: 337, as cited by Moran 4). In Aristotle’s time, education was about breeding scholars and thinkers. But as Moran points out, “the [classical divisions of knowledge] were eventually transformed by market forces and institutional changes” (Moran 4). As the world grew more complex and advanced, there came about “a perceived need to relate education to specific economic, political and ecclesiastical ends” (Klein 1990: 20, as cited by Moran 4). With this, it seems, the “liberal” in “liberal arts” has been lost, and the learning has been removed from education. I am curious to see if Moran will address the modern day issues of the educational system and link interdisciplinary study to these problems as a possible solution.

Cane and Walden

I’ve given up trying to read Maria Alfaro’s “Intertextuality”. The language is thick and academic and the allusions to literary theorist after literary theorist are formidable. But it hasn’t escaped my notice that half of our class’s name (Cane Intertext) is derived from this text and that it will probably play a significant role in classwork and discussion over the next semester, so I decided to apply an online filter to the information in Alfaro’s analysis. I decided to do what teachers have discouraged me from doing since the sixth grade.

I decided to go to Wikipedia.

For anyone else who struggled through the explanation of intertextuality, I recommend opening up a web browser and simply googling the term. Wikipedia, which is the first link, provides more or less all of the information that is provided by the reading and it provides at least enough to give anyone a comprehensive understanding of what the term means and where it came from. The main difference between the online and offline resources, which makes Wikipedia a more efficient medium for the information, is that whereas Alfaro provides lengthy digressions Wikipedia is able to include a svelte link to another article, and whereas Alfaro includes reference after reference to related texts Wikipedia is able to include its own related readings at the bottom of the page and leave you unimpeded.  Continue reading “Cane and Walden”

Empiricism in Literature

When I first read Martinez Alfaro’s “Intertextuality,” the concept of all texts arising from previous texts immediately reminded me of the cell theory; all cells arise from preexisting cells. Then, discovering the title of this week’s chapter of Interdisciplinarity, “Science, Space and Nature,” I was intrigued by what Moran could possibly say regarding this topic. Moran extensively discusses the concept of empiricism: the theory that all knowledge is  derived from the sense experience. He opens his discussion by explaining that “Science’s self confidence has traditionally stemmed from its self-limitations…” (pg 137) From what I understand, scientific concepts are only as valid as the evidence that supports it. Science is taught as a “universal truth” according to Paul Feyerabend and he argues that there is no freedom to dissent from scientific knowledge. (pg 140) Although Moran depicts the separation between the sciences and literature, I believe they are inherently the same.

Science in its rawest form is “framed, discussed, and solved” (pg 141) Is literature not framed, discussed and solved as well? In science there is an existing problem or question, and as the scientist you formulate a hypothesis one may either challenge or agree with. Literature is the same. During the age of Enlightenment, Martin Luther challenged the Catholic Church with his experimental The Ninety-Five Thesis. Harriet Beecher Stowe challenged the concept of slavery with her novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Each work of literature at the time seemed blasphemous, and yet didn’t each new scientific concept introduced to society seem just as ludicrous also? By reading this chapter, I have a fuller understanding of how the disciplines actually intertwine.

 

Diversity in the University

di·ver·si·ty noun \də-ˈvər-sə-tē, dī-\

The quality or state of having many different forms, types, ideas, etc. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary Online)

Contemporarily, the concept of diversity seems to be a buzzword. Although usually referring to diversity of race, culture, religion, etc., it is also used to refer to diversity of ideas or viewpoints. While reading chapter one of Moran’s “Interdisciplinarity,” I came across a small segment that caught my attention, causing me to re-read and re-read and really chew on what Moran was arguing. It stuck with me, as this is a topic that I feel very passionate about.

Moran references the work of Immanuel Kant, titled The Conflict of the Faculties, and further, Jacques Derrida’s response to Kant’s assertions. Kant looks at the discipline of philosophy, claiming that it should be “free of the influence of government and other material concerns” (Moran 32). He imagines an almost Utopian version of the university, which exists in essentially its own neutral bubble, taking no stance on worldly subjects. As Derrida then argues, Kant’s view is unrealistic, “due simply to the fact that the university is founded” (Moran 32). A pure university free of corruption would be ideal, but because a university is founded on a set of principles and values, it inherently develops a position on world topics. That position then leaks into the university’s teachings, sometimes forcing certain viewpoints upon students.

While I disagree that Kant’s assertions of a neutral university are feasible, I agree that, in theory, this is how a university should function (but, maybe not in as extreme a manner as Kant is suggesting). It may be impossible for a university to be completely void of an opinion regarding political or social issues, but it is possible for each class, professor, and student to be introduced to all sides of an argument or topic. This allows for students to formulate informed opinions for themselves instead of uninformed opinions that are skewed and one-sided.

It is important to gather news from multiple sources in order to act as an informed citizen, and this concept flows over into academia, too. But is it really possible to reach neutrality? According to a study, 72 % of American university professors are liberal and 15 % are conservative (Kurtz, Washington Post Online). However, I believe it is possible to teach from all sides, no matter where the professor’s views fall on the political spectrum. The key is for the professors to make an honest effort to present all sides of any situation, use varying sources for information, and allow students to develop their own thoughts. If professors realize that no opinion is bad, that some students may think differently than they do, and that information presentation and grading of work should be done in a neutral way, we may reach a day where the university hovers near Kant’s ideals.

A Defensive Stance

I have a friend who is fundamentally opposed to the very idea of anyone studying English (or any other “soft” discipline, as she would say). She is set staunchly against the mixing of disciplines; she will not read, despises papers, and considers anything that is not a hard science to be a waste of her time as an engineering student. Moran’s Interdisciplinarity debates the merits of a more holistic education; I feel as if people like my friend should at least think about these points.

Moran touches on the desire I feel to justify my interest in English to this friend with the statement “Most English students will be familiar with the ribbing by students in subjects such as law, engineering, and medicine…” (Moran 18). Although Moran only brushes on the topic and moves on to elaborate on the discipline’s controversial history, I was stuck on this and could only think about my friend’s attitude. I’ve heard it all from her – “You’re going to end up homeless” being my favorite – but each time it comes up I can’t help but remember all the papers she asked me to edit, or the literature I helped her analyze. As much as she likes to deny it, she needs English. She’ll always have e-mails to write, books to read for that one humanities elective, and people to impress. The world can’t be run solely by engineers. There needs to be some culture, some ability to thoughtfully develop an argument, and some willingness to consider the themes that literature contains.

Interdisciplinarity discusses the English major’s problem with earning respect for the discipline. I find it hard to understand why there are students who are willing to write off an entire area of study. I think we need a little bit of everything, whether we choose to specialize in it or not. I respect the laws of physics, the contributions an engineer makes to society, and the cultural understanding anthropology brings. All I ask is for my friend to withhold her judgment enough to let me explain why I want to study English – this discipline has its purpose too.

All in all, the biggest question Interdisciplinarity has brought to my mind is “…why am I friends with her anyway?”

Surviving Chapter One

When it took me almost three hours to read through the Introduction (sixteen pages) of Joe Moran’s Interdisciplinarity, I chose to believe that it was an isolated incident. A dry, factual beginning. Many works of fiction and nonfiction alike begin slowly, if a little faster than Moran’s creeping exposition. I told myself, going into “Interdisciplinary English” to put what I had read behind me and give the rest of the book a chance. But, after wading through the entire first chapter I have to wonder if even Moran himself knows at any given time where he’s going. Through vague headings such as, “The Cultural Project of English” or “Literature, Life and Thought” and through his refusal to give the reader any idea what he might be discussing before he discusses it, Moran has crafted a narrative that reads like the lecture of a sleepwalking humanities professor. (Moran 32, 23)

He has also thus far failed to answer what are considered two of the principle questions of academic writing: “Who cares?” And, “So What”? (Graff and Birkenstein, 92-101) That, I believe, is the true reason why this book reads like a legal document. In almost fifty pages, Moran has yet to give any inkling as to how the dilemma of ‘interdisciplinarity’ is relevant to… anyone. Or anything. He has barely brushed by the subject of why it matters. Even throughout the Introduction (while he’s setting up the premise for the rest of the book) in between a whole Academy’s worth of philosophical name dropping, the closest Moran gets to telling us why this all matters in the first place is by relying on the negative connotations of words like “narrow” or “specialize”, or by referencing what other people have to say on the subject, as he did in the case of Jose Ortega y Gasset and his “learned ignoramus”. (Moran 5, 11) And until he does, this book will continue to take me hours upon hours to read through.

As far as the actual content of the book is concerned, I’ve yet to decide how I feel. It has, in spite of its lack of life, forced me to challenge the system of education that public and private colleges across the country have been using for the length of my life dozens of times over. It is a thought that has never once occurred to me, but as I think it through now I can see that there are clear merits to Moran’s argument. Nearly everyone believes in a well-rounded education spanning multiple disciplines, to some extent. That’s why there are educational requirements in every state – and now even some that exist on a national level. These requisites alone aren’t definitive proof that interdisciplinarity is widely encouraged, but they are proof that the majority of the country is in favor of a well-rounded education up through grade twelve, and they do end up facilitating interdisciplinarity by encouraging that classes be created which span several disciplines in order to – if nothing else – allow students to fulfill more requisites in less time. Plus, I’m really, really, really bad at science. And English is easily my favorite subject. But at the same time, I’m also an economics major and I understand that specialization is good for an economy and its people. And the system that Moran describes, one where English or any other subject is an academic focal point, has yet to make any progress despite Moran’s lengthy and detailed accounts of it. He has yet to prove to me that his idea of interdisciplinarity even exists, and it is not because I’m just a harsh and cynical skeptic. He seems to be so caught up in his idea and in the account of his novel that he has forgotten that his readers are not figments of his imagination and that we do not immediately understand each graceful leap of intellect that he takes across the pages of his book as he does.

I can only hope that at some point over the course of us reading this book, we do.

Music as a Discipline

Upon reading the introduction to “Interdisciplinarity” by Joe Moran, I became confused as to why music as a discipline was grouped into the medieval curriculum of Quadrivium.  After all, the Quadrivium also included arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy.  The other curriculum, Trivium, included logic, grammar and rhetoric.  It struck me as odd that music should be grouped in a curriculum with disciplines that it is not presently associated with.  I felt that music would be more appropriately organized as a discipline within Trivium.

Math and science are disciplines that are formulaic in nature; an individual follows a concrete procedure until they come to a concrete answer. Variables are juggled and conclusions are drawn from the organization and relationship of these variables; subtracting two numbers diminishes a resulting number in an amount relative to those two numbers. Now, in response to this, those of you with knowledge of music theory may quickly question the difference between the natures of math/science and music. You may say that scales are based off of a system of numbers, degrees of sound that differ in relation to the pitch of a root note. You may further state that the particular scale degrees within a given scale are just another kind of formula. This is all very true. A series of notes is organized into a concrete system; this system is then referred to as a scale. But the scale as we know it is a very westernized approach to organization of pitch.  In fact, other forms of music, such as Middle-Eastern music, do not use scales at all.

I recently acquired an instrument called a Saz from a Turkish family that lived down the street from me, for they had bought a house and were having an estate sale.  I found that this instrument – vaguely reminiscent of a guitar, but not closely related by any means – was played very differently from most stringed instruments used in America or Europe.  It had a body and a neck, like most stringed instruments, but instead of standard frets (markers that change the pitch of a note played), there were thin, movable frets in the neck that were placed in intervals that had no order.  After a bit of research, I found that the Saz and many other Middle-Eastern instruments did not utilize scales; they played notes in between notes.  I quickly realized that Middle-Eastern musicians played by feel, not by formula.  They played by instinct, even by improvisation.  Where perfection is the norm in the Western world, the Eastern musicians played their music devoid of any concrete system.  Therefore, certain styles of music seem to fall out of the scope of Quadrivium.

Now that music has been somewhat distinguished from Quadrivium, how could it fit into Trivium?  Well, Trivium – logic, grammar, and rhetoric – consists of disciplines that are essentially based on conveying ideas, often artistically.  Rhetoric in particular is the art of persuasion, which ties in perfectly with music.  Every love song ever written was written with the intention of persuading a significant other to love the writer.  Every empowering punk song ever written was written with the intention of persuading the subject of the song that that representative group was not to be reckoned with.  Depending on the subject of the song, the list goes on and on.  Additionally, music, in and of itself, is an art.  So doesn’t it make more sense that  it should be treated like art, not like a science?

WHY?

Before becoming a Suny Geneseo transfer, I attended a community college in Auburn, New York, where I had discovered my interest in becoming an English minor. My first thoughts were.. YUCK! The reading is unlimited, the language is too difficult, and jobs.. do they exist?

Excuse me while I enjoy not writing in stiff essay form while blogging. To my understanding, blogging is a much easier way to get a more sufficient idea on a  person and how they converse. Verses stiff essay form, they all look the same to me. So pardon me as I let loose for a little bit, within reason. Back to where I left off..

I had a wonderful teacher who had opened my eyes to the unseeable to many, which was how far you can go with an English Major/minor. The typical major where you are opt to make “more money”  would probably be engineering, or business. But none of those had interest me.. the money or the work. For the last 10 years, I’ve had a keen interest in children. Working with them, playing, teaching, even learning from them. With that being said, I was led to an Education program (which I’m sure you all had guessed). But it was time for me to  pick my minor.

Math? God no

Science? Yikes!

History? ZzZZzzZZZz

English? Hmmm…

After brainstorming a bit, I picked up a few english classes and there it began. This teacher had shown me amazing works of literature. Just beautiful. The words, meanings, stories behind them. It all amazed me. But also scared me. I have an extremely difficult time understanding things the first time around. So although it may take 2-3 reads to clearly understand it’s meaning(it took me almost 6-8 times to understand the first few pages of Interdisciplinarity), it’s understood. I read poems, I read novels, I read chapter books (being an education major). I read everything! And where to begin to describe it all?! I read about pencils, paper, leaves, history, celebrities, black people, white people, tall, short, romance, mathematics.. I mean EVERYTHING! Which is where the whole interdisciplinary concept comes on.

I know almost everyone in this class can bring up at least one time they’ve heard the English major/minor being abused. Can someone tell me why? Why a majority of our people feel the need to talk down to it? WHY? My mind gets lost towards that infuriating question because english is almost everything! It’s more interdisciplinary than any subject I can think of off the top of my head. Which says a lot because there’s always thoughts brewing up there. I think the main issue is that people connect an English major with being relatively easy, because most of us can say we know the language. But there’s a lot more to it that I think people don’t take interest in.

Without rambling on, I’d like to know what all the fuss is about with English majors. Why is it? Is it that people simply don’t understand the language, or is the other way around? Meaning they think they know too much, where the major would be a waste of their time?Why is that I want to know. Why? Why why why?

An Interdisciplinary Summer

Throughout this past week, many of my professors started the first day of class with the same question, “What did you do over the summer?” In years past, I have always had a very mundane response: I worked or maybe took a family vacation, nothing out of the ordinary. However, this summer I did something very out of my comfort zone and attended Field School for Archaeology through Geneseo’s Study Abroad program. For one month I lived in a tent and excavated land that was occupied by the Hopewell Indians between 1600 and 2100 years ago. Not shockingly, the next statement was always, “Oh, so you’re an anthropology major.”

You can imagine the confusion that overcame my professors when I explained that no, I am in fact not an anthropology major, but a double major in Business Administration and English. Everyone assumes that because I participated in a summer program that is in a specific discipline (anthropology), that I must want to be an anthropologist. People can not grasp the concept that I am interested in something that has absolutely nothing to do with my majors or future career paths. When I try to explain that I simply really enjoy the study of archaeology and wanted to take advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity, they get uncomfortable and smile and move on.

While reading Interdisciplinarity by Joe Moran, I was struck with the feeling that he was trying to describe how I feel every time someone questions why I would waste my time attending Field School when it is so outside of the disciplines I am studying.  I agree with the critique of the academic disciplines that he references frequently, that they are limited and confining. I like the idea of interdisciplinarity, or at least how I understand it, that there should be more of a flow between the academic disciplines, creating an engagement between them. In my mind, the idea of interdisciplinary is like that of a liberal arts college, it allows a student to get a taste of every academic discipline to become a well rounded and cultured member of society.

My interdisciplinary adventure this summer allowed me to experience academics in a new way. Instead of studying from my Business Law textbook or analyzing the syntax in a poem I was plowing through dirt looking for variations in the plow zone and recording it in a archaeological journal. I learned just as much as I would have in a traditional semester class, if not more because I learned about myself by experiencing a world I was in no way a part of before. I learned leadership skills, since everyday a new member of the group was assigned to be in charge, skills that will help me in the world of business. I also took part in  creative writing during my time there; we were expected to journal about our experiences throughout the trip, allowing me to work on my writing skills without being an English class. Learning these skills that are theoretically specific to distinct academic disciplines in a field that has nothing to do with them proves that the idea of interdisciplinarity is a valid one. This allows me to fully appreciate the idea of interdisciplinarity and the importance of it for all students.