Writing and Identity, Chapter 4

Summary of Chapter 4: Issues of identity in academic writing

In this chapter Ivanič reviews the literature on student writers in an academic setting. She traces the development in this field from an original perspective focused on product, meaning, how to get students to produce particular written products; to an exploration of process, the process of learning and writing; to the contemporary interest in writing as social. Much of the discussion involves navigating the relationship between “social construction” and “social interaction,” i.e., the extent to which identity, meaning, values, etc. can be treated as entities, or as created by entities (e.g., culture, “society,”) preceding and above the level of individuals; or as the product of individual agents in interaction.

Along these lines, she reviews competing understandings of the concept of discourse community: as abstract (that is, along the lines of “culture,” or “interpretive community”) or as concrete (aka, as a speech community in the sociolinguistic usage). She notes that academic discourse communities share not only written but also spoken discourses, and adds that “it is necessary to recognize the interests, values, and practices which hold people together and see how discourse emerges from those, rather than starting by looking at discourse” (80). She argues against what she terms an “initiation” approach which sees academic discourse communities as possessing set characteristics and practices which students need to be “initiated” into to master; rather, we need to understand these discourse communities as situated in time and place, and as changing through time, in part through the re-interpretation and modification of practices by new entrants:

Academic discourse communities are constituted by a range of values, assumptions, and practices. Individuals have to negotiate an identity within the range of possibilities for self-hood which are supported or at least tolerated by a community and inscribed in that community’s communicative practices. Discourse community members, of varying affiliations in relation to the values, assumptions, and practices, are also locked in complex interpersonal relationships, characterized by differences in status and power …. (82)

From a discussion of “boundary” writers (those whose different writing style or values causes them troubles in trying to conform to a written discourse community), she applauds researchers and teachers who recognize that “disadvantage is constructed by the system, not a characteristic of people” (83). She quotes Patricia Bizzell to the effect that “We should accustom ourselves to dealing with contradictions, instead of seeking a theory that appears to abrogate them,” and concludes that “Discourse communities are the ‘social’ element in the expression, ‘the social construction of identity.’”

Ivanič reviews studies discussing how writer-learners should learn to imitate, not the “product or the process of writing,” but the writer (85), in a form of “identity modelling” (though she is critical of this term). However, learners should not, or do not, just mimic, but construct a “compromise” between existing conventions and their own idiosyncracies:

A writer’s identity is not individual and new, but constituted by the discourses s/he adopts. On the other hand, a writer’s identity is determined not completely by other discourses, but rather by the unique way she draws on and combines them. (86)

[A productive way to think the intersection between the “Unique”/haecceity, and discourse as structuring.] She references some interesting-sounding studies on plagiarism, notably by Ron Scollon, then discusses Roger D. Cherry’s distinction between two aspects of identity in writing: ethos (aka character, from Aristotle’s rhetorical triad of ethos/pathos/logos), and persona (aka social role). Among critical approaches to academic discourse, she notes the use by Geoffrey Chase of terminology adapted from Henry Giroux’s critical pedagogy, referring to three stances taken by learners: accommodation (learning to accept conventions), and opposition (involving a more broad critique of the dominant ideology) (92). Ivanič notes that she has used this approach in the past, but now considers it to assume “too monolothic a view of academic discourse.”

She discusses some reasons why her particular interest in the writer’s construction of identity has not been a focus of scholarship up to her time of writing (1998): one being an emphasis on the reader, which took the writer for granted. At the same time, the development of the social view of writing in opposition to the earlier process view (each diagrammed on pages 95 and 96) led to some blinders. The process theorists somewhat uncritically celebrated the idea of “voice,” as in, each writer needs to find their own “voice.” This was then criticized by the social theorists as too romantic and simplistic, fetishizing individual creativity at the expense of understanding the social and discursive context of creation. Ivanič agrees with this critique, but suggest that in “denying the existence of a writer’s ‘voice,’ I think that these theorists lost sight of other aspects of the writer which are extremely important to a social view of writing” (97). Ironically, the use of the term “voice” is back in fashion among critical social theorists of writing, from its use in translations of Bakhtin, but with a changed meaning:

‘Voice’ in this new way of thinking is multiply ambiguous, meaning a socially shaped discourse which a speaker can draw upon, and/or an actual voice in the speaker’s individual history, and/or the current speaker’s unique combination of these resources...

She concludes by folding insights from the current chapter back into her earlier elaboration of Goffman’s theory of self-presentation, adapted for writing (as opposed to face-to-face interaction, as in the original). Much of Goffman’s face-to-face terminology, such as the use of “clothing” and “furniture,” in interaction, remains useful as metaphor, because in writing, “The encounter between performer and audience may be removed in time and space, but it is still an encounter” (100). She notes some standard criticisms of Goffman, such as that he acts as if individuals are consciously strategizing at all times, and that they inhabit a community of shared values and understandings, “which might be relatively true in a small, close community like the Shetland Isles” (102). She includes an interesting discussion of Goffman’s “protective practices” whereby performers and audience cooperate in perception management (the former by trying to save face in interaction, the second by using tact, etc., to help the performer maintain face). Readers, in contrast, are not as likely to feel the situational compulsion to help the performer maintain face; even worse, graders of academic papers often think of themselves as on a mission to point out the writer’s inadequacies. [In this light, cf. Sedgwick on “reparative reading.”]

She concludes with a discussion of the three aspects of “identity” as the term is often used: 1) the product of processes shaping the individual; 2) the way they position and portray or enact themselves; and 3) the way they are understood by readers/interlocutors. Rather than teasing out one of these as the true “identity,” Ivanič prefers to consider how they are interrelated, and situationally more or less relevant, though her book will (as stated in earlier chapters) focus on the construction and interplay of the “autobiographical self” and the “discoursal self.”

Writing and Identity, Chapter 3

Summary of Chapter 3: Literacy and Identity

In this brief chapter Ivanič extends the concerns of the previous chapter to the subject of literacy. She notes that there are two ways the term “literacy” is used: the traditional or common meaning of ability to read and write, and the more nuanced and productive meaning, “way(s) of using written language” (58). The latter meaning is the focus here, as this allows for a variety of considerations of how literacy is embedded in social context (59). Ivanič has criticisms for the old “great divide” theory of Ong, etc., which posited a vast cognitive gap between pre-literate and literate societies, as well as for the idea that literacy is “decontextualized” in comparison with face-to-face speech. She points out that this narrows the meaning of “context” to physical presence. In addition to physical presence, she delineates two additional aspects of context: 1) an interactional level of the purposes to which communication is put, and the relationships in which it takes place, and 2) the context of culture (from Halliday), meaning “competing systems of values, beliefs, and practices” which shape and constrain both spoken and written communication (60).

She explores the idea of an “ecology of literacy,” in which various, diverse practices of reading each have their own “ecological niche” (62). The concepts of literacy practice and literacy event are discussed, both of which get beyond the reductionist view of literacy as a “skill,” and also bring into focus the broader social and cultural contexts in which literacy is practiced. She emphasizes the distinction between “the actual, observable practices of individuals, and the abstract, theoretical idea of the practices which are the norm for a cultural group” (67); however, she does not follow Gee (1990) in adopting distinct terms for these. She discusses the problems with verbs like “learn” and “acquire” in relation to literacy, which treat it as a pre-formed ability or resource that students earn or strive for; instead she prefers verbs like “develop” or “extend,” one “extends” one’s literacy practices. “What distinguishes students is not whether they are or are not literate, but the characteristics of the repertoire of resources they bring with them to the task” (70).

Identity is the book’s theme: “acquiring certain literacy practices involves becoming a certain type of person” (67). She concludes with some terminology adopted from other scholars: e.g., Besnier’s distinction between person (or role) and self (individual) as two aspects of identity; some writing (such as a sermon, or an academic paper) foregrounds the person, while other forms (such as personal letters) foreground the self. A quote from Gee spells out the positions of insider, colonized, and outsider in relation to a discourse; notably, “colonized students control and accept values in the Discourse just enough to keep signalling that others in the Discourse are their ‘betters’ and to become complicit with their own subordination” (Gee, quoted on p. 73).

Writing And Identity, Chapter 2

 

Summary of Chapter 2: Discourse and Identity

In this brief chapter, Ivanič discusses how her terminology and analysis derives from, and aligns with, several key influences, viz., Halliday, Fairclough, Bakhtin, and Vygotsky (by way of Wertsch). She starts off the chapter by delineating her usage of the terms “discourse,” “language,” and “text.” She uses the first two largely interchangeably to refer to “language-in-its-social-context,” the first because it emphasizes this social context, and the second because it emphasizes the linguistic-per-se, which might otherwise get forgotten in sociological discussion of context; at the same time she emphasizes that she does not want the two terms to be seen as somehow opposed or demarcating specific fields which could be somehow disentangled and studied separately (37). By “text” she will refer to “the physical manifestations of discourse... the marks on the page,” to foreground “the role of form in discoursal/linguistic processes and practices as a whole” (38).

She derives three lessons from the work of MAK Halliday:

1) “language is only one of many sign systems which convey meaning” (39) and needs to be analyzed within this broader context.

2) “language is integrally bound up with meaning, and all linguistic choices can be linked to the meaning they convey”.

3) As indicated by the term “social-semiotic,” meaning is dependent on two kinds of context, which Halliday calls the context of situation and the context of culture. [This sounds reminiscent of Goffman’s “loose coupling” of the interaction and social orders.]

Halliday further proposes three “macro-functions” of meaning (40):

1) conveying ideational meaning (ideas, content, etc.);

2) conveying interpersonal meaning (status, relationships, etc); and

3) the textual function, whereby the physical text makes “the meanings hang together.”

Ivanič will add to Halliday’s account with a more sustained focus on the role of identity; she lists three “dimensions” of social identity which relate directly to H’s three macro-functions:

1) “a person’s set of values and beliefs about reality,” conveyed through ideational meaning;

2) “a person’s sense of their relative status in relation to others,” linked to interpersonal meaning; and

3) “a person’s orientation to language use,” which affects how they construct texts.

Turning to Fairclough, she reproduces (41) a diagram from Language and Power showing the linked “layers” of text, interaction (with process of production and process of interpretation), and context (with social conditions of production, and of interpretation). She uses Fairclough’s work to extend and deepen the focus on social interaction and context, out of Halliday’s framework; then, in turn, adds in Bakhtin’s richer metaphor and discussions of the “taste” of words, ventriloquation, double-voicing, etc., to extend Fairclough. Finally she brings in Vygotsky, mediated through James Wertsch’s Voices of the Mind, which pulls together Vygotsky and Bakhtin.

She discusses the roles of “genre” and “discourse,” emphasizing Fairclough’s distinction between two kinds of intertextuality: manifest intertextuality and interdiscursivity (47-8). Manifest intertextuality is the explicit quotation, and referencing of another text; Ivanič prefers to call it actual intertextuality, because it is not necessarily all that “manifest.” Interdiscursivity, in contrast, refers to abstract text types, conventions; it is the relating of this text to others through the level of genres, etc. [The distinction between these two kinds of intertextuality brings to mind my most recent round of paper grading, much of which involved pointing out to students who had used generative AI that their citations, quotes, statistics, etc. were hallucinations – because chatgpt (or whichever they are using) is totally stuck at the “abstract” level of interdiscursivity, which it imitates; it is quite able to generate a sentence which might plausibly appear in a given text, but has much more difficulty providing an actual sentence which appeared in that text. Thus, it can reproduce interdiscursivity, but not actual intertextuality, most likely because it cannot tell the difference between them.] She notes that Bakhtin often “blurs” the distinction between interdiscursivity and actual intertextuality, “sometimes usefully, sometimes annoyingly” (51).

Via Wertsch, Ivanič notes that one of Vygotsky’s key contributions is the argument that “higher mental functioning in the individual derives from social life.” Though drawing on Vygotsky, Ivanič is not so interested in the “unilinear development” which his work focuses on, but instead on a non-hierarchical multiplicity of potential paths of development undertaken by individuals as they explore ways of developing their own identities through writing. Instead of assuming that students need to develop their thinking and writing in some particular direction, she is more interested in how they play out their identities in relation with the more or less privileged or privileging discourses, genres, styles, etc., available to them (and she discusses how these terms, derived from Wertsch, provide a more active and agentive account of the relative status of different discourses and genres, than the more static term dominant). She is interested in how writers develop a “toolkit,” per Wertsch (54), or “building materials” (apparently from Fairclough) (47), to construct their own identity and its performance through writing. [The objection springs to mind, raised by, for example, Merleau-Ponty, against such a portrayal of a subject confronting the world somehow abstractly and then pulling out all this kit of mental resources, tools, etc., not unlike the linguists of Laputa carrying around their bags; though I suppose M-P was objecting to the empiricists, etc., who try to understand perception and sensation this way; the metaphor is arguably more reasonable when discussing writing, which can even involve drawing upon literal examples of such resources, I mean I have right here a thesaurus and a bookshelf of books to pull out and reference... so I guess I, ahem, withdraw the objection...]

She concludes with a nice positioning worthy of Sextus Empiricus, to the effect that when she writes of language-users “selecting,” or “choosing” from “options,” she does not mean this as the necessarily conscious agency of some perfectly free will. To the contrary, such “choice” is constrained, situated, and often unconscious. Thus, she asks readers to accept wording like “choice” in this context as “a simplying metaphor for what are in fact fleeting, subtle, complex, subconscious processes which are socially constrained and not under the full control of the individual” (54). [Quite fair, and is not the very “self” or “subject” not also just such a “simplifying metaphor,” an edifice built, to paraphrase Nkee, on running water]. She ends with noting how, in the midst of this situated constraint, etc. writers develop something which “is often simplistically called the writer’s ‘own voice’” (55). Ivanič will instead call this the writer’s owned voice, “the writer’s choices, from among many competing socially available discourses, of ones s/he is willing to be identified with.”