Showing posts with label integrity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label integrity. Show all posts

Friday, March 30, 2012

Skeletons, Ghosts, and Shadows

If you wish to be a writer, write.
                                        -- Epictetus


On Saturday, I went to a workshop on writing children's picture books. The teacher was Barbara Bottner, truly the rock star diva of pictures and truly a gifted teacher.


Even if one had no writing aspirations lurking in one's bosom (in which case one would be rare indeed), one would have benefited from her teaching, which offered a mix of general life instruction (know yourself, be authentic) in addition to the highly specific (and immensely useful) writing instruction having to do with language, tone, plot structure, characterization, and so on.


It was such a fantastic surprise that Ms. Bottner began by explaining the pressing need to rummage around in the dark subconscious closets and haul out what we've made sure to pack deep in the recesses because we've been afraid or unwilling to look at, think about, or even admit the presence of what's creeping about in there. They being the source of our conflicts and therefore the drivers of our actions.


Lately I've spent much time reviewing passages and what I'm seeing is that boring writing is superficial and disconnected -- from real life (lacks detail) and from human experience (lacks heart, lacks authentic expression of emotion and experience). I corresponded with a writer today about her poem, which I loved for its sheer discipline and precision, and she said it was fun to write.


No surprises there: in On Writing Well, Zinsser talks about "the intangibles that produce good writing--confidence, enjoyment, intention, and integrity."


As for me, it's a pleasure to work with writers who are having fun and it's even a greater pleasure when the fun shows up and waves at me from the page.



Saturday, March 24, 2012

Words to Write By

Writing is related to character. If your values are sound, your writing will be sound. It all begins with intention. Figure out what you want to do and how you want to do it, and work your way with humanity and integrity to the completed article.
From On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction by William Zinsser.


I recommend books on writing about as often as I read books on writing--which is to say never.


Though it has been many years since I graduated from college, I still can't quite believe my luck in having studied writing (and literature) with the greatest of teachers: Marvin Mudrick. Nowhere to go after him.


But I couldn't and didn't--though I wish I could have--memorize every word he said about literature and writing. Hence the utility and pleasure of a book like On Writing Well. It is truly a pleasure to read. How many manuals or guides can you say that about?


If you are a writer and you haven't read it, do. You'll be so glad you did. If you know everything Zinsser tells you, you'll feel gratified; if you learn something new, you'll profit from it.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

I've Got My Reasons

. . . in the immortal but out of context words of Talib Kweli.


Speaking of intention, what if one's intention be muddled? One wouldn't get very far. But even if one does not aspire to go far, one needs to know where one is going (and though it is always lovely to leave space for beautiful surprises, it's also good to have an idea of what one might do when one gets there).


That is, intention--like levels of interpretation--can rest comfortably in the shallows or can swim in the deepest depths of the deep blue sea.


A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a colleague about the interpretation of figurative language. As we talked, I realized I have an internal framework for the interpretation of figurative language, a framework that I used when I taught, that I use when I help my daughters with their ELA homework*, and on which I absolutely rely in my work--but that I'd never fully articulated.


At the time, I was putting finishing touches on the manuscript of a book that will be published in June, God willing and the creek don't rise, a book with a title that leaves little room for ambiguity and makes up in clarity what it lacks in evocativeness (The Hidden Market for Children's Literature: Getting Paid to Write for Reading Tests) I decided to include this part of the conversation in the book toward the interest of value-added:
If we're talking about imagery and figurative language, we would say that the progressive levels of interpretation would proceed in a manner something like this:
    1. literal meaning: this is the basic, word-by-word view and is restricted to the literal definitions of the words that are then combined into sentences, lines, and paragraphs to convey literal meaning. Nothing wrong with the shallows in some circumstances. Sometimes that is the best place to be.
    2. sensory-dependent meaning: creating visual images, developing rhythm through meter and structure, musicality through rhyme, assonance, repetition, etc., and the sensations of touch and taste through the use of evocative words and phrases. I see this as the body level of interpretation.
    3. connotative: suggestive of shades of meanings and feelings, thereby establishing and developing tone and mood. This is emotional.
    4. in terms of author's craft: contributing to and supporting the development of narrative elements(e.g., characters, setting, plot). This is artistic and intellectual. 
    5. symbolic: offering motifs to represent or carry the overarching theme and other big ideas of the work. Touching the soul here.
    6. extending ideas and making connections: taking the aerial view and creating a bigger, more universal picture of the human experience that may cross genders, generations, social class, cultures, historical epochs, philosophical schools/movements, etc.; making allusions to people, objects, historical events, or even cultural (including artistic or literary) periods, values, and movements. Connecting with the universal human spirit.

    To return to the aerial view, when we writers are working on an assignment, sometimes our intention is so limited that it becomes wrongheaded. We forget the big idea. We think that our intention is to deliver a certain number of words assembled according to certain rules by a certain date in order to get paid. (We're not the only ones who do this; it happens in companies, too. Who hasn't seen the tension between marketing and development? Not that tension is necessarily bad--I mean it in the sense of pulling from both sides--it keeps the tent aloft.)


    Some of this is necessary, right? We have to sit down, engage the mental machinery, and produce. We can't always be floating among the stars. But, and--it's well to keep in mind the ultimate goal, the real underlying purpose, which in our case is generally to give a child a fair opportunity to show us what he knows or can do in a given arena of knowledge and skill.


    Because knowing this helps us to make decisions in our work that will serve that child.




    UPDATE: I always think of more to say after I walk away. Esprit d'escalier. This is directly related to the deplorable tendency to repeat standard language verbatim in test items. You see? The item writer is thinking in the limited terms of providing a question that meets the specifications at the lowest possible level: You want a transition item? Here is a transition item. Again in the immortal words of that great sage Oprah, when we know better, we do better. We can do better.


    UPDATE: Oh, gracious, I forgot to add the footnote to the * following "ELA homework." Here it be:
    * I simply cannot believe how much homework my daughters have. I will go out on a limb and say it is immoral. Why, you may well ask. Because one strategy to compensate for inadequate instruction is to load up on the homework and in so doing, assure oneself that the kids will learn as they plod through hours of busy work at home. Sometimes my daughters have 4-6 hours of homework. They're not getting a Ph.d. They're in the eighth grade.

    Wednesday, October 7, 2009

    An Angry Little Toot from a Lone Brave Whistle-Blower

    The books I am reading right now are: Love and Will by Rollo May, Aretha Franklin's autobiography Aretha: From These Roots, and Daniel Goleman's Vital Lies, Simple Truths: The Psychology of Self-Deception. And I just finished Making the Grades: My Misadventures in the Standardized Testing Industry.

    There may not, at first glance, appear to be any common ground (in the immortal words of Rev. Jesse Jackson) among these, but I will argue that as humans, we take ourselves wherever we go, and in so doing, we drag along the burdens of either consciousness or self-deception. As we choose. Sometimes one, sometimes the other, as best meets our needs and best fits our capacities at the time, the question of existence often being the same as that faced by Oedipus, (as Rollo May says): how much self-awareness can a human being bear? One hopes--I hope--that one may travel an upward trajectory in which one increases one's awareness of oneself and of the world, a trajectory that leads to some higher plane in which we can learn to live with truth.

    We take ourselves to work, where we sometimes must walk a tightrope between our values and the need to earn a living. Most of us must make some compromises, must sell ourselves in some way. Some compromises are small and meaningless, but others may put our very integrity at stake. This is the real story of Farley's book.

    Though the book is purportedly about the testing and test publishing industries, it is just as much about Farley, who presents himself as a whistle-blower, though one might be forgiven for the mean-spirited thought that Farley sure did take his time in finding the whistle, being as he kept on collecting a paycheck from The Great Satans for many years. And that perhaps this delay lends a bit of tarnish to his credibility.

    It must also be said that Farley does not appear to best advantage when he writes about how he copied other workers' scores to get out of doing the work himself, or about spending most of his workday surfing the Internet, or about his hand-rubbing glee in charging exorbitant fees as a consultant (though maybe my pointing out the latter is evidence of envy on my part, as I cannot help but wonder how he managed to pull this off, as I have been a consultant in this industry for 8 or 9 years, and though I do support my little family, our style of living cannot be described as high off even a tiny hog). (Not to mention the subtle sexism in Farley's thinking that is revealed in his writing. Look at how his view of women is first invariably filtered through the lens of whether or not he finds them attractive. In his mind, women--no matter how accomplished or intelligent--are reduced to decorative objects because of course, a woman's main value has to do with whether you enjoy gaping at her. Then consider the adjectives and nouns he uses when writing about women. He says he traveled with "a gaggle" of women. Oh, please. Yes, we of the feminine persuasion are all just clacking geese, you know how ladies love to gab. Sigh.)

    Reading Farley's book raises as many questions about him as it does about the industry he intends to expose. If it were so chock-full of despicable practices, why did he remain there for 15 years? How did making such a sacrifice of his own values and beliefs affect him? What exactly was going on in his mind as he participated in these ethics violations? While working in that industry, what efforts did he make for reform?

    It seems that Farley wants to rail against this industry-wide malfeasance without taking any responsibility for his own role in it, but as it do say in the Bible, one cannot touch pitch and not be defiled.

    This is a dilemma in which you might say I have a deep and abiding interest. The spirit of full disclosure compels me to state that I worked at CTB McGraw-Hill from 1993 to 2001, since which time I have been a content development consultant for a variety of test publishers, school districts, and one state department of education. Having worked with most of the major test publishing companies, I can say that I have seen a good share of corporate culture, and the more I see, the more I am glad I work for myself. Anyone who has ever worked in a corporate setting is probably familiar with at least some of the horrors Farley describes. People who are like the walking dead, who are so eccentric and odd-mannered as to seem unemployable, catch-22 mandates handed down from upper-level management, meetings that seem designed to showcase pomposity and vanity and futility.

    But the shenanigans of wrong-doing in hand-scoring that Farley reveals, the behind-the-scenes falsification of scores, the pressure to score in one direction or another as the wind from on high changes, demands from psychometricians to increase the number of scores at a given grade point level, hand-scorers who were the dregs of society--these I did not see. Pressure to work faster, for higher productivity, yes. Unreasonable demands, yes. Obsequious sucking up to district or state officials, yes, yes, yes. Lots of co-workers with their little quirks, oh, yes.

    As there is in the world, there is much that could and should be improved in this industry. On all sides, and probably in every department in every test publishing company. If Farley says that what he describes in the book was his experience, then that was his experience, I will not dispute that, though my own experience has been different. I agree completely that tests today are being used for purposes for which they should not be used. I agree completely that there is more to learning than can be measured by a paper and pencil test (or a keyboard test). I agree completely that one of the unintended consequences of the No Child Left Behind legislation has been the unleashing of unprincipled money-sniffing dogs into the industry (no offense to literal dogs), and the muck they try to pass off as genuine content--well! I have seen some awful terrible bad no-good things, is what I am saying.

    And yet, testing is never going to disappear. Nor should it. The example I always give when a stranger tries to hold my feet to the fire is whether you would want to undergo an invasive medical procedure at the hands of a surgeon who had never submitted to (let alone achieved a passing grade from) any kind of examination as to his or her knowledge and skill. Let's face it, we don't even want to take our cars to mechanics who are not certified in some manner.

    See, we can construct this evil villain testing empire, we can make paper dragon cut-outs all we want, but how does that effect real change? What about starting where we are? For myself, I find that much of my work has been coming more from curriculum the last few years, partly because these particular clients are just plain charming and nice to work with, but partly because, given the choice, I would rather be working on the side of remediation and intervention. Not that I have stopped my assessment work. However, if I ever do feel about it the way Farley did--if it stole from me my integrity--I hope that I would not hesitate to leave it behind. I can't really know what I would do unless I find myself in that situation. Some sleepless nights would result, I am sure. Rollo May says that fate plus guilt equals no rest for the wicked. (My paraphrase.)

    Thursday, February 5, 2009

    Counting the Cost

    We consultants sometimes agonize over our rates. How much should we charge for which tasks? Should we stick to our rates even when we don't have other work lined up? Is it ethical to charge different rates to different companies, or different rates for different tasks?

    Questions like these used to plague me. Now, after 8 or 9 years of working for myself, I'm very clear about money; money conversations with clients are no different than any other conversations. To make money conversations easy requires integrity, clarity, and flexibility.

    Not that you have to talk about having integrity. When you have it, it's part of all you do and say. For me, having integrity means being fair to my client and fair to myself. When I started my business, I decided upon an hourly rate. This decision was not made lightly. I had to consider my overhead expenses, and that I spend 10-20 hours a week on tasks for which I can't get paid--email, telephone calls, invoicing, banking, records, filing, and so on. After 6 years, I realized that my rate was inadequate--I could not afford to contribute to my retirement account, nor buy health insurance, nor could I take sick days or vacation days--and so I gave myself a raise. What is interesting is that I didn't lose any clients by so doing. I did have to refer some potential clients to other consultants who charge less. All of that having been said, I will also say that I often do free work. I rarely charge for telephone calls, ditto emails, and I often throw in this or that bit of work for free, especially for clients who have given me a lot of work over the years. It is very important to me that my clients know I will give them the best work I can do. Once, a client told me she was dissatisfied with my work, and I told her to pay me what she thought it was worth, as it was more important to me that she be satisfied than it was to receive the paycheck.

    My hourly rate is at the higher end for tasks involved in content development. However, I can be flexible, given my schedule and my client's budget. Sometimes I will work for a lower rate for some simple tasks, especially if I have no other work lined up. Better to work at a lower rate than not to work at all. (Usually. There are some exceptions. Once I committed to a large project for which there were no written specifications--which is where the clarity comes in. I'd worked with the company before, though not with that particular editor. As we began mapping out the tasks, it became clear that the scope of work was much greater than I had understood from our earlier conversations. I told the editor I would have to charge more money for the additional work. The editor was unable to pay more, and we decided together to nullify my contract. These weren't pleasant conversations, although certainly there was no animosity; we both simply agreed that the project was not a good fit for what the editor called my "cost structure." It was the first and last time I've done that. You can imagine that now I am very, very careful to make sure I understand what is expected from me before I sign a contract.)

    If a client's budget for a project cannot accommodate my rate, I can work with my client to find a mutually acceptable compromise. We might decide that my work will only involve design, specifications, training, and/or content review. Sometimes I can vend out lower-paying work to subcontractors. I do have to make sure I keep enough of a percentage to pay for my share of the work (assigning and explaining the work, and reviewing and editing it before delivering it to my client) and to pay the taxes on the income. I can also set a per project rate for clients at companies with a lower ceiling on hourly rates. This works best for clients with whom I've already established a foundation of mutual trust. I've found that most people want to be fair. I want to be fair, too. Once we know this about each other, it's a simple matter to figure out what they can afford for me to do.

    If they can't afford everything they want from me, I can give a little. I often give a discount to clients who call me for work, as they save me money when I don't have to spend time fishing for work. I often give a discount to clients who offer me a contract for a large project, one that will last for several months or more, for the same reason. I am just about to start a venture that will take me through the first week of May; although I am working at a lower rate, the peace of mind that comes from having a steady income for the next few months is worth the sacrifice.

    There are two more discounts I am sometimes inspired to give: one is the likability discount, and the other is the fun discount. You cannot overestimate the importance of likability, and sometimes the attraction of a fun project is so compelling that I'm willing to take a little pay cut.