Kairotic

Kairotic

Monday, September 23, 2013

In Memoria

What is memoria?


      Memoria is action. It is the funneling of identities and cultural traits from the past to the present so that the past can resonate in the present. That resonance, for minorities who act on a “need to reclaim a memory, memory of an identity as formed through the generation,” transforms the process of identity formation (12). It lays brickwork for people who straddle two worlds so they may seek stable ground beneath their feet. Villanueva mines his cultural past for stories of “the imperial lords, those who have forcibly changed the identities of people of color through colonization” as a way of mapping the collective changes in identity (12). It allows him to distill his present reality into discernible connections and moments of overlap. He develops a connection with Nelly, the department’s graduate secretary, in that their “first imperial overlord was there before the world got large, more local: the Japanese and the Caribes” (12). In this connection, he imagined that “others look and listen on with looks of wondering. It’s not their memory” (12, emphasis added by me). Engaging memoria built conduits for Villanueva; one connected to Nelly, who is otherwise Filipina and not Puerto Rican, and one connected to others. It forged separation and allowed Villanueva to see a connection he shared with anOther. This groundwork would only have been possible through memoria. Villanueva shows us how memoria is movement, construction, synaptic; it refuses stasis and instead becomes engaged with us dynamically to help minority groups construct identity.

      Memoria is movement, connection. It leads us to trace roots, find and create repositories of information in the form of lived experiences. Memoria also discerns tumultuous changes in identity. In the recent wave of historical transmigration and globalization, dozens upon dozens of minority groups are set adrift in cultures not their own. Memoria maps these waves, and guides us here. We come to shore, in the present day.

Negative Ecologies

      LeFevre and Edbauer share a common egalitarian, “ecological”  understanding of rhetoric. LeFevre’s casts invention as a social act which “stresses the dialectical relationship of the individual with society and culture” and also “involves a variety of social relationships with real and imaginary others” in the process of generating unique ideas; culture/Others and the rhetor are inseparable (46-47). LeFevre further articulates that within historical narratives, “individual persons and episodic events do not exclusively shape history; larger, less obvious movements may shape individuals and events” (41). Invention is shaped over time through extended, organic processes. Edbauer’s ecological model of the rhetorical situation almost precisely aligns with LeFevre’s understanding of invention. For her, “an ecological...rhetorical model  is one that reads rhetoric both as a process of distributed emergence and as an ongoing circulation process,” much like how components of a city work together to create itself and the movements which occur within it (13). LeFevre and Edbauer essentially argue that the contributions of each part or exigency is holistically, organically interrelated in the act of invention and in the rhetorical situation.


      What LeFevre and Edbauer incorrectly imply, however, is that the contributions of each exigency to the inventive act/rhetorical situation are equal. Did Edbauer consider the socio-economic demographics of individuals who bought the “Keep Austin Weird” stickers and T-shirts? Is the involvement and input of society/audience equal to the input of the rhetor herself in the creative process? What if the rhetor is a minority - how do her actions and associations with the dominant culture change? I argue that Royster’s position, and that of many other thinkers who discuss issues of minority voice, complicates the essentially equal and egalitarian vision that both LeFevre and Edbauer strongly imply. Not every exigency plays an equal part in rhetoric. In Edbauer’s seemingly symbiotic world of the rhetorical situation, its clear that particular movements, rules, and circulations privilege and exclude certain other movements, rules, and circulations. These exclusions, I argue, mostly likely happen to minority groups. To be part of the symbiotic process requires equal participation, and underprivileged groups often don’t have that “rhetorical currency” to engage in those circulations. In LeFevre’s world, the rhetor works with an imagined audience or seeks feedback and engages in culture. This is presuming a rhetor that has had the skills/education and resources necessary in order to invent in these complex ways. How is invention different if a person of a lower socio-economic status attempts to generate new ideas? What are her struggles, then? Furthermore, Royster clearly demonstrates that boundaries along racial/gendered lines place her in certain subject positions where her voice is usurped, misunderstood, or altogether ignored. How is invention different when an African American woman speaks to other African American women as opposed to a group of white colleagues?  Royster gives the example of a colleague who was appreciating her use of her “authentic voice” when Royster tried to “share the sounds of [her] historical place and to connect those sounds with systems of belief so that deeper understanding might emerge” during a discussion (36-37). After this incident, Royster stopped participating in the conversation; she stopped inventing altogether. Invention and the rhetorical situation become altogether different processes in which the rhetor analyzes and grapples with dominant audiences and exigencies. Royster complicates LeFevre and Edbauer by showing how egalitarian rhetorical processes are the ideal we work toward - not our reality.

Why Discourse?

Discourse, as a term, is defined with great difficulty. Our readings for class today clearly demonstrate that despite there being some “locus” or “kernel” of an idea within “discourse,” the term is open to different interpretations. It can be purely about the modes in which we “abstract” reality into communication, defined by exigencies. Or it is composed of the choices rhetors and audiences make with each other, creating particular discursive spaces that can be (broadly) mapped and categorized (public discourse, private discourse, etc.). 

It is important to study discourse because in every definition, there is some agreement that a discourse is/has structure. Particular rules - whether static or changing - generate/guide/influence the choices made in communicative situations. This makes discourse inherently political - acts of communication within loosely defined spaces influence outcomes and decisions. Rhetoric is the study of communication, loosely, in the way that it influences and shapes actions in the practical world. As such, rhetoric and discourse cannot be separated - we are constantly participated in multiple discourses in a daily basis, and this is inherently also rhetorical. In the classroom, we engage in academic discourse. If we engage in journal writing, we engage private modes of discourse. These are rhetorical moves, and understanding our discursive positions and situations only adds to the body of knowledge defined as rhetoric. 


Plus, it seems important to study because many rhetoricians have written influential articles about it. ;-) 

Berlin As Proof of the “Theory-Praxis” Dynamic

      While all our readings relate to Louise Phelps’ “The Domain of Composition,” I found Berlin’s article useful for understanding her observation about the “theory-praxis” dynamic in Rhetoric and Composition (RC) research because it demonstrates the ideas she puts forth. According to Phelps, scholarship in RC is uniquely geared toward applying and generating theories of composition to practices of composition, which are comprehensive and interdisciplinary. It also views composition as a symbolic action worthy of academic inquiry. I believe that Phelps aptly points out that this “theory-praxis relation” is partially the work of “scholars...attempting not only to explore the conceptual frameworks of the field and its relation to other disciplines, but also to examine the nature of their own inquiry as symbolic action” (182). Furthermore, due to composition’s complex nature, for RC,  “the object of inquiry becomes not writing, reading, or texts, but their relationships to one another, to the individual, and to the world. The significant effect of this move is to greatly expand the domain of composition...it allows us to account for the great richness and diversity of research that claims to fall within the field.” (183). Phelps highlights not only this unique nature of RC, but also its orientation and research purpose - it is the material application of theory (usually in the classroom) to practical problems in written discourse and also “reflexive” research on our modes of inquiry, both of which have “multimodal” and “interdisciplinary” research methods. I see this as the heart of the “theory-praxis” model in RC which Phelps sets out to explore and articulate.


      I see Berlin’s article as a particular demonstration of this “reflexive” nature of RC, as well as a window into the importance of theory within the field. He shows that because are “involved through our teaching mission in the development of literacy, we make ourselves part of the topic of inquiry” (Phelps 190). Berlin demonstrates this very notion as he sets out to “situate the development of English studies within these larger [socio-economic] formations, examining the role it played in the new curriculum” (17). He is reflexive in that his object of inquiry is the formation of the discipline itself in light of bigger social movements and economic developments, which is a direct critique and revision of William Riley Parker’s article; Berlin writes from within the field about the field. What makes Berlin (and Parker too) uniquely part of RC is in the way these histories are then applied toward a greater understanding of literacy practices, and both articles call for direct action in a way that has material implications for teaching composition. This shows how “praxis” is a defining element within RC. The importance of “theory,” then, is highlighted by Berlin’s explanations of competing paradigms in literacy (and his near direct endorsement of the democratic school) which directly affected curriculum and practice in composition pedagogy. And in further connection to Phelps,  Berlin reifies notion Phelps highlights about composition’s complex nature to the outside world - schools of thought regarding literacy and curriculum are not impervious to social and economic shifts, and therefore conversations about college education in composition and literacy have to involve conversations about the relevancy and impact of composition to the world outside the university. Berlin’s article is a clear example corroborating Phelps’ major observations about the nature of RC.