Setting English Free

by Silas Bradley

The way we communicate is tied directly to our feelings of identity and belonging; however, should that identifying and personal style of communication be suppressed when teaching academic writing? This has been a question of some debate over the past few years as academics have argued the place of personal dialects in writing. “Develop your voice.” This is a phrase we have all heard at some point in our writing classes. Teachers use it as a mantra, repeating it over and over when teaching students to write; however, can this really be their goal as they work to grade and restrict the language students are able to use in their academic writing?

Scholars are divided over how individual dialects should be incorporated in academic writing. One sect believes that English teachers should be conforming their students to one proper style of writing and speaking. A firm believer in this idea is Stanley Fish, who writes in his paper for The New York Times, “What Should Colleges Teach?” that you are “not going to be able to change the world if you are not equipped with the tools that speak to its present condition. You don’t strike a blow against a power structure by making yourself vulnerable to its prejudices,” (3). Here Fish argues that if students are not equipped with proper and standard writing styles they are unable to succeed or make change in the world. This idea that students must leave behind their own dialects and way of communicating in order to succeed is opposed vehemently by writers such as Vershawn Ashanti Young, who argues that “A whole lot of folk could be writin and speakin real, real smart if Fish and others stop using one prescriptive, foot-long ruler to measure the language of peeps who use a yard stick when they communicate,” (4). Students must be allowed to use their language to deliver their message. Though I am inclined to agree with Young’s argument about the importance of dialectic freedom in academic writing, I believe that the answer to this question actually lies in the way we view the purpose of English and writing classes.

I argue that the purpose of English class is to help students better express themselves in whatever manner they feel best suits them, not to conform or confine students within one way of communicating. When grading students’ work, teachers currently search for places where a student is “wrong.” They seek to find places where students have broken the apparent rules that govern their version of the English language. This distracts teachers from what should be their main goal: developing students’ own communication skills, whatever they may look like. The assignments given to students should not be centered around teaching the right way of communicating, instead assignments should be about helping students to write clearly and intentionally, using whatever style best suits them. By spending so much time penalizing students for making mistakes, teachers are unable to spend the time needed to help students craft their own voice.

As Fish correctly argues, in the current climate, students must conform to succeed, at least in an academic setting. Instead of focusing on making their writing the most effective it can be, students hone in on just painting by numbers and doing the bare minimum necessary to ensure that each point on the assignment sheet is hit. This is exactly what I’m doing now as I write this paper for our class; subconsciously I always have one eye on my writing and one on the assignment grading sheet. However, the focus on just securing the points has some disastrous effects on the writing skills of many. After years of being forced into working within the rules, many students become lost when assignments arise that don’t specify clearly the rules and steps needed to get an “A”. They are so used to coloring within the lines of writing assignments that the moment their blinders are lifted they become lost and helpless. By lifting some of these restrictions students can gain a better handle on their own way of communicating. By allowing students to be themselves and hone their way of speaking, we can create a generation of students that are able to communicate effectively in a wide variety of environments.

One important way that this can be achieved is through helping students to gain an appreciation and understanding of the different dialects that surround us. According to professor of linguistics Kirk Hazen, “If people had a better understanding of how language works, they would probably be less inclined to make negative judgments about speakers of different dialects,” (Hazen). I believe that we should spend time appreciating dialects and codes as literary works just like poetry and academic articles. Different dialects and ways of speaking should be explored more fully in English classrooms as a type of literary appreciation. Just like poetry and spoken word, these things should be studied and appreciated as both free ways of expression and as practical ways of crossing discussionary boundaries. To me, it appears hypocritical that teachers can praise the work of poets and spoken word for using “their own voice” and still shun the use of student’s dialects in their work. Now to be clear, academic and creative writing appear to be very different. However, is the distance really that far? Practicing and studying creative writing helps to hone writing and communication skills. If students can gain a mastery of their language creatively, why can’t they use that mastery in their academic work?

Because language is so closely tied to an individual’s identity, it becomes detrimental when one must shed their language to enter and assimilate into a group. According to champion of linguistic rights Dr. Lordes Rouvira, “One repeatedly encounters poignant stories of having to forget one’s language in order to assimilate or acculturate to a new environment. Sadly, this forgetting often includes losing one’s roots,” (66). The connection of identity with language is another reason there is such pushback against conforming to one way of writing. I believe that individuals should be able to keep their identity in their writing. While there are few that truly argue that students should have their individuality stripped from them when entering the writing classroom, at a certain level this nonetheless takes place under the current method of teaching. Students opt to play it safe and forgo going the extra mile to be different and communicate in a way that is uniquely theirs in order to achieve a safer grade.

The heart of the issue as I see it is that the language used by scholars in academic writing is exclusive. Serving as the culmination of some long research, the language used often stands out as needlessly difficult and made to appeal only to those of highly educated backgrounds. Here, the constraints of what is accepted as academic writing and speech can severely hamper the achievements of individuals who use other dialects, such as AAVE, by providing the added hurtle of having to learn another dialect in order to be taken seriously. I see this as a severe loss, because when we maintain the conformity to just one way of expression, we shut out opportunities for many to speak. However, we can make a change. Students should be taught to celebrate their unique voices and use them in the ways that they feel are most effective. If we adapt the way we teach English, supporting students in crafting their voice, we can improve the communication skills of newer generations and give them the power to speak freely.

 

 

 

Works Cited

Fish, Stanley. “What Should Colleges Teach?” New York Times, 7 Sept. 2009.

Hazen, Kirk. “Teaching about dialects.” ERIC Digest. (2001, August 31). Retrieved November 1, 2021, from https://www.ericdigests.org/2002-2/dialects.htm. 

Rovira, Lourdes C. “The Relationship Between Language and Identity. The use of the home Language as a Human Right of the Immigrant” REMHU – Revista Interdisciplinar da Mobilidade Humana, vol. 16, núm. 31, 2008, pp. 63- 81 

Young, Vershawn Ashanti. “Should Writers Use They Own English?” Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies Volume 12, Edition 1 2010

 

 

Silas Bradley, When Lenin Came Home: The Rhetorical Situation of Vladimir Lenin’s Speech at Finland Station

On the sixteenth of April 1917, communist revolutionary Vladimir Lenin stepped onto the platform of Finland station in St. Petersburg, Russia. After seventeen long years in exile, Lenin finally found himself home, carrying with him high aspirations to overthrow the weak provincial Russian government and install a new “Dictatorship of the Proletariat.” Less than a month later, he would preside over the newly created Soviet Union. First, however, he must proclaim the words announcing his return to Russia and ignite the revolution that would change the world. From atop an armored car, Lenin delivered his speech to the gathered crowd, lighting the spark of the revolution and signaling a turning point in history.
Examining Lenin’s speech, often hailed as his most famous, its power comes not only from the text itself, but from its ability to effectively respond to the situation surrounding it. According to scholar of rhetoric Lloyd F. Bitzer, a rhetorical situation is “a natural context of persons, events, objects, relations, and an exigence which strongly invites utterance” (4). Rhetorical situation is, in short, the context and problems that encourage a text to be created. There are three major parts to the rhetorical situation as defined by Bitzer. The first part is exigence. This refers to the problem that the text seeks to address and change in a positive way. The second part of the rhetorical situation is the audience that the text is created for; in particular it is the audience that can be swayed into taking action to solve the problem the text addresses. Constraints are the third and final piece that makes up a rhetorical situation. These are factors that affect the way that the text must be created, they are obstacles that must be overcome, and needs that must be met. Bitzer defines constraints as being “made up of persons, events, objects, and relations which are parts of the situation because they have the power to constrain decision and action needed to modify the exigence” (8). Constraints act by influencing the way the text responding to the rhetorical situation can be created. All three of these things, exigence, audience, and constraints, combine to make a rhetorical situation. In April 1917, as Lenin stepped from the train, the rhetorical situation he faced required a strong, well calculated response.
For Lenin, the exigence of his speech stems from the long history leading up to revolution in Russia, primarily it is the need to spark the revolution against the wealthy ruling class. In 1900, after a previous three-year period of exile in Siberia, Lenin began his exile in Zurich. Over the next seventeen years he worked to direct other revolutionaries toward setting into motion the revolution. After the disaster of first World War, the Russian economy was in complete disarray due to the costly war effort; in March 1917 widespread food shortages led to the outbreak of riots and strikes in Petrograd (Lenin Returns). After these revolutionary actions German officials, in the hopes of further destabilizing the Russian government, authorized Lenin’s movement to Russia via a sealed train car. It was with the embers of revolution waiting to be stirred that Lenin made his way through a war-torn Germany to Russia. As Bitzer points out, exigence only becomes rhetorical when a text can be made to change the situation for the positive (5). In Lenin’s case, the exigence of the situation becomes rhetorical because he speaks directly to those who are able to make revolution happen: the people. Through the text Lenin creates, he ignites the revolutionary spirit of his audience and influences them to act.
Lenin’s audience plays an important part in his rhetorical situation. According to Bitzer, the audience consists of anyone who can both view the rhetorical text and be moved to action by its content. The group that crowded around the train station on that April night was made up of mostly sailors, soldiers, and laborers: soldiers of the revolution. Through his speech, Lenin encourages them to take part in the revolution. Lenin does this in part by appealing to them directly, strengthening his ability to achieve the desired effect. He reaches out personally, saying “I greet you without knowing yet whether or not you have been believing in all the promises of the Provisional Government. But I am convinced that when they talk to you sweetly, when they promise you a lot, they are deceiving you and the whole Russian people” (Lenin). Through these words, Lenin takes a conversational tone, appealing to the thoughts of his audience. By engaging with the audience’s feelings of being wronged and deceived, Lenin attempts to gain their support. In the crowd, also, are party officials, who help to lead and organize the revolution. They in turn are encouraged to act from the text, working to ensure that the revolution is carried out in an organized fashion. Both groups in the audience stand to be affected by Lenin’s words, and thus they are at the heart of the rhetorical text that the situation calls for.
Lenin reaches a further audience through the reports and copies of his speech that are disturbed to the population through newspapers. According to one Russian newspaper at the time, “In the street, standing on top of an armored car, Comrade Lenin greeted the revolutionary Russian proletariat and the revolutionary Russian army,” (Lenin Collected). The heroic image displayed to the wider Russian population of Lenin standing on an armored car works to further expand the effect of Lenin’s speech by appealing to a larger audience. It is this because of this widespread knowledge of his words and actions that his display is able to have such a great effect. Through using the media, Lenin amplifies his message to a greater audience of individuals all across Russia, coaxing them into revolutionary action.
There are many constraints involved in Lenin’s speech, shaping the manner in which the text must be delivered. One important constraint is intertwined with the exigence of the situation. The Russia that Lenin returned to was one of suffering, and in his article for The Atlantic, “When Lenin Returned,” Edward Crankshaw points out that “It was this misery which Lenin deliberately set himself out to exploit” (Crankshaw). Here the constraint is not necessarily a negative one; indeed, it gives Lenin an aspect to use in the appeal for a proletarian revolution. He states that “The people need peace; the people need bread; the people need land. And they give you war, hunger, no bread—leave the landlords still on the land” (Lenin). Here Lenin uses the anger felt by his audience to turn their intentions toward revolution. Other constraints such as the fact that his words are being delivered audibly, the time available to deliver the speech, and the overall rushed and constrained situation in which Lenin creates this text mean that it must be short and sweet. Indeed, Lenin’s speech lasted only a few minutes. However, by keeping the length short, Lenin gets straight to the point, avoiding boring his audience and ensuring that all his points are made in the uncertain amount of time available to him. By abiding by the constraints, Lenin produces a speech that works best for the demanding situation at hand.
Lenin’s audience also serves as a constraint as the need to strike them into action requires Lenin to appeal directly to them. One important way Lenin uses his platform to improve his rhetorical text is through connecting visually with the audience. Although only five foot five inches in height, Lenin appears energetic and larger than life by implementing large gestures and a fiery tone. In his essay, “Lenin,” Maurice Dobb, an economist at Cambridge University, examines the important connection between Lenin’s appearance as a member of the proletariat and his ability to rule. According to Dobb, “The secret of his influence was not that he could subordinate the mass to himself, but that he could be a part of the mass and lead at the same time” (35). In the case of Lenin’s speech, it is through his appearance that he works to appear similar to his audience. He arrives at the station wearing a simple suit and hat; these clothes mark him as a normal man, further cementing him as a member of the proletariat class who seeks to unite his comrades toward a common goal. By making this connection, Lenin appears equal with his audience, further encouraging them to rise as one.
An additional constraint on Lenin’s speech comes from his political views. Because his ideals and beliefs are well known, there is a set “script” of political beliefs and sentiments he must stick to. Crankshaw writes that “Lenin was arriving to go on saying what he had been saying for years, what he had already said in those first letters and telegrams” (3). Since his words are just repeats of his original message, Lenin must ensure the connection is deeper than ideological. He must display his passion to strike energy into the hearts of his audience rather than relying on the surprise of a new and intriguing idea.
Lenin himself also acts as a restraint on the rhetorical situation. Lenin’s extreme, nearly robotic devotion to his political ideals work to constrain his response to the rhetorical situation of his return to Russia. Crankshaw states that “By the time of his recall to Russia, Lenin was disciplined absolutely to impersonality, so that it had become his real nature. Because of this I say that he hardly knew what he was doing, or that he was facing the supreme crisis of his life” (5). Lenin’s only reaction to the situation can be to strike up the revolution; for him there is no other feasible way to go about it. A revolution must come, and he must be the one to direct the proletariat against the ruling class. When facing this situation, Lenin himself acts as a constraint because of his unfaltering devotion to leading a revolution in Russia.
In response to the complex rhetorical situation of his return to Russia, Lenin’s speech at Finland Station is extremely successful. Responding to the exigence of the situation, the speech works to neatly stand as the spark of the October Revolution. Lenin achieves the goal of his speech as less than a month after delivering the speech, the provincial government would be overthrown, and he would be the head of the newly created Soviet Union. The effects of these actions are still being felt today. All these events stem back to Lenin’s short but powerful words, shouted from atop and armored car to a crowd just waiting for the time to achieve their freedom. Through his speech, Lenin provided the revolutionary spark, and in doing so, changed the course of history.

Works Cited
Bitzer, Lloyd F. “The Rhetorical Situation.” Philosophy & Rhetoric, vol. 25, Penn State University Press, 1992, pp. 1–14, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40237697.
Crankshaw, E. (1954, October 1). “When Lenin Returned.” The Atlantic. Retrieved October 9, 2021, from https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1954/10/when-lenin-returned/303867/.
Dobb, Maurice. “Lenin.” The Slavonic and East European Review, vol. 19, no. 53/54, Modern Humanities Research Association, 1939, pp. 34–54, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4203582.
Lenin Collected Works, Progress Publishers, 1977, Moscow, Volume 41, page 399.2.
Lenin, Vladimir. Finland Station, Petrograd. April 16, 1917. Welcome Speech.
“Lenin Returns to Russia from Exile.” History.com, A&E Television Networks. 5 November 2009, Accessed 8 October 2021.
https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/lenin-returns-to-russia-from-exile