Just fake it, no one will know

David Bartholomaes’ essay describes the problem beginning writers have, they don’t know in what voice to speak in. Bartholomae tells us that beginning writers have to write act like experienced writers but most can’t pull it off. They have to copy a certain style or tone of discourse that they are not experienced in, this makes for uneasy writing. For example when a inexperienced writer writes an argumentative paper, she does not feel comfortable lecturing the reader (the teacher) about something the reader knows ten times more about, so the writer will teach instead. This means the essay will take on the tone of a “life listen” rather then telling you how it is. Students don’t feel qualified telling the teacher something the teacher already knows. Bartholomae says that these young writers are too afraid to take on the authoritative and intellectual tone, because they feel like they don’t derisive it. He argues in order for them to speak to this audience, which I’ll call academia; they have to speak in their language. But how can you speak in a language your leaning? Bartholomae says, fake it. Act like you have read ten books on composition theory and tell the teacher your opinion, find common ground, spark their interests. Bartholomae tell us of the many problems a young writers has, not knowing how to express yourself, not know the subject and discourse or what voice to write in. But his answer is something we all can do, act like we know what we are doing.

I must say, when Bartholomae said when young writers try to imitate a certain style of writing it is almost a parody. I can relate to this, in 12 grade our class went to Main to study marine biology, which was very enjoyable. We still had to have are regular classes, so in our English class we were asked to sit alone on a rock and listen to the ocean and let a poem come to us. Being the young rebellious and sarcastic teenager I was, I napped for the allotted time. When I realized I had five minutes to get 12 lines of poetry done, I dawned my must sardonic and cocky hat and wrote a poem, which in my mind was a mockery of the assignment. But as it turned out, in my efforts to make the assignment and the art of poetry look foolish, I wrote a pretty damn good poem. A poem which was award the highest grade of the class and got published in two magazine, much to the chagrin of the females in my class, who knew my true intentions and felt me unworthy of such accolades. Now I don’t now what this means, but I do feel I write in a style I do not fully grasp to better speak to my reader. Practice makes perfect.