Process+and+Methodology

How will you facilitate learning with your text? How is this related to your principled approach?
While the ultimate goal for Wilhelm and Novak is for students to use the text as a transitional object that facilitates a further move toward self-awareness, social consciousness, and ultimately social change, students must first be guided in the process of engaging texts in meaningful and pleasurable ways. Because active engagement in the text is crucial to forming the meaning that will lead students to self-knowledge, the authors describe three dimensions of response—evocative, connective, reflective—that help us understand how we might create experiences that better enable the likelihood of transactional responsiveness.

Before we can really tackle the large-scale goals we have in mind for our students, it is necessary first to set them up for both an enjoyable and rewarding experience. In order to do so, we must activate what the authors call the “evocative dimension” in an effort to “get [students] out of chronological time and into story time” (77). Through various activities and experiences, we evoke the lives of students by activating interests and prior knowledge that will—in our judgment—serve to augment the students’ ability to enjoy and interact with the text. These “frontloading” activities serve a dual purpose: In one respect, they set the students up for success by activating prior knowledge that will lead to an enjoyable, relevant experience, but they also create situations where students can feel competent. It’s important to set students up not only to succeed but also to //feel// they are succeeding. Wilhelm and Novak remind us that “it is not motivating to feel incompetent” (80). If students are to use literary texts as transitional objects that mediate further intellectual and social growth, they must first be motivated to keep reading.

While every text will not require evoking equal parts interest and competence, each of those facets of frontloading ought to be addressed in some way, and it is likely that they are often addressed simultaneously and feed off of one another. After all, evoking prior knowledge is itself a way of making students feel competent and successful. For a novel like //1984// that begins with the inner workings of Winston’s mind and his evaluation of the “mute protest” he feels in his bones, students are going to need a fair amount of scaffolding for dealing with the problems raised in the text as they try to leave chronological time and enter story time (Orwell 65). In order to assist in that process, it might prove helpful to provide a somewhat practical “guide to Oceania” or a list of pointers for dealing with Big Brother as a means of arming students with a framework to build on as they enter the text. Such an approach does not mean deferring evoking student interest in favor of competence; rather, it anticipates particular areas of struggle while also leading to the contemplation and discussion of issues that are relevant to student interest. A simple introduction of the role of telescreens in //1984// society might lead students to think about the ways in which they themselves are monitored, how it makes them feel, or in what kinds of circumstances such surveillance is warranted. In doing so, students move forward in understanding a practical aspect of the novel as they activate more conceptual and abstract areas of interest.

The connective dimension of transactional responsiveness that Wilhelm and Novak describe both grows out of and reinforces the evocative dimension. When students enter story time and sense their surroundings fade as the world of the text becomes more distinct, they are likely to begin to see the characters as people and establish relationships with them. Such connection feeds off of itself and makes immersion in the text that much more effortless. Through connecting with characters’ actions, emotions, and motivations, students situate themselves in a position where they can think through and evaluate new experiences with the security of having the text there to guide them. Wilhelm and Novak note that this “consciously considered relationship with characters” is fundamental to engaged readers, but they add that establishing a relationship with the author of the text is a vital component of the connective dimension as well (93). While students do not need to exhibit a staunch reverence for authors and authorial intent, developing a sense of the author’s role in “adding to or augmenting our ability to experience life” is entirely appropriate (99). After all, people create these transitional objects, and it would be irresponsible to consider texts as disconnected from their authors. When students connect both with characters and authors, the stage is set for them to engage in “’caring’ reading—reading in which we learn to care about others different from ourselves by sharing life with them for a time” (95-6). Through such text-mediated shared experience, students practice the psychological and emotional moves that ultimately lead to the possibility of truly coexisting with others in the world.

Because of the extreme circumstances in which he finds himself, some readers may initially find it difficult to establish a strong connection with Winston, but his longing for basic human experience endears him to the reader, ultimately making his plight identifiable and recognizable. Of course, it’s not necessary that students //like// Winston or even sympathize with him (though most probably would). In fact, there are instances where he envisions—indeed fantasizes about—brutal acts of rape and murder that have students puzzled and asking questions. It is a good sign that they care enough about Winston to ask those questions, and the teacher ought to encourage them to explore why they have such feelings through writing assignments and discussions. One way to facilitate such connection is through character journals. Students could either write from the character’s perspective, write editorial entries of suggestions or critiques, or a combination of the two. More outgoing students might enjoy assuming a character’s persona and responding to an interview or interrogation. The activity itself is less important than the outcome here. As long as students find a path into the character’s world and feel experiences alongside that character, they are on their way to transactional responsiveness.

The reflective dimension is the final step and a necessity for activating the essence of art and aesthetic transaction, ultimately resulting in the self-awareness, social consciousness, and social change advocated by Wilhelm and Novak. Using their words, the reflective dimension is the realm where we “find new wisdom that is ours to give, through finding life and love in the gift of art,” essentially validating the entire process as a worthy social endeavor (122). Through reflection we are no longer imaginary, emotional conduits; instead, we take the step to become active participants in the human story. The reflective dimension is about bringing awareness to or changing something that existed before, or as individuals, finding insights into our own lives. Then, when the process is practiced in a group, or a classroom for our context, individual insights feed off of each other, ultimately resulting in a reflection is that is collective through the individual parts that have joined together.

According to Wilhelm and Novak, reflection within the scope of aesthetic transaction closely models a parent-child relationship. Because we have taken the creation of another (the text) and reflected on it in conjunction with others in the classroom, we are free to explore and arrive at conclusions organically. The author (or the text) serves as a transactional authority, providing us with a secure, nurturing sense of approval to explore new possibilities and creations in our own lives; the third space of the text serves as a safety net: “…we are together with others who have confronted and learned to claim responsibility for similar problems” (126).

In the context of //1984// and all literature, students reach the reflective dimension through projects and assignments that force students to reflect, especially through the eyes of social justice. For example, essential questions should be asked in a way to evoke a personal response, with the natural extension leading to students asking what those questions mean in a larger social setting. The fact that //1984// ends with The Party breaking Winston’s will is irrelevant. If students are able to reflect on the text and understand 1984 in a variety of social and hypothetical contexts, the text is still a valuable vehicle for reflection that will move students towards social change. Examples of reflections include: develop a propaganda campaign for The Party if they were to take power today; develop a campaign of steps that can be taken to avoid The Party’s ascension to power; write a journal for O’Brien explaining about his time before becoming a Party member and his transition. The reflections simply act as a type of practice or understanding for how we can apply our thinking to the outside world, a world with severe consequences. Additionally, retrospective and prospective autobiographies are key assignments to ensure reflection. Like all other reflections, these can be encouraged in a variety of genres. Placing them in the context of 1984, they can force students to reflect on their imagined future under Party rule.

After students have been exposed to reflection and understand it individually, the process must be embedded in a social context, and Wilhelm and Novak recommend doing this through the community of a book club. While the classroom will not transform into a book club, it will mirror one through it's caring and tolerant atmosphere, as members learn to respect and enjoy the views of others, even if those views are differing and controversial. Citing his own experiences, Wilhelm describes how book clubs ultimately result in springboards to think about the application of reflections in real life (139-140). Organic discussions about the practical application of reflections should be one of our goals as teachers in transactional classrooms. These communities are important because they not only expose students to varying ideas, but they teach students to acknowledge and understand the differences that are necessary to understanding if we are to progress towards a society that is democratic truly in name and practice.