Writing advocacy across the university: An anti‐dystopian approach to teaching writing

Throughout our experience as composition and literature professors and as writing center consultants, we have both witnessed familiar patterns that have a damaging impact on student success. In addition, we have spoken with frustrated faculty seeking solutions to students' writing problems, and we have found many strategies, ideas, and practices that do encourage students to succeed in writing. One thing we have noted in particular, however, is that when faculty enter into student interactions with a preconceived notion of what writing is or is not, it can also affect a student's attitude toward writing—positively or negatively. We have come to recognize that, as instructors in any field, we all have an obligation to coach, mentor, and guide our students, and part of that coaching is to be their facilitator and collaborator. If, in talks with students, faculty display a negative attitude toward any subject, then students themselves may develop a bias against that subject. This bias, or distorted view, hampers their learning, closes their minds, and can make embracing a subject like writing quite difficult. Academic writing and its facilitation often fall through the cracks or are incomplete because student-facing faculty and staff and students themselves may have developed a dystopian vision of writing and, therefore, hesitate to approach it. By “dystopian vision,” we mean something akin to what Daly (2017) describes in her aptly titled article, “Not It! Resistance to Teaching Writing Across the Curriculum.” She explains that many instructors actively avoid discussing writing with their students for a variety of reasons; they may feel that writing is not in their purview, that it is the job of composition instructors to teach writing, that there is no time to fit both writing and content instruction into a class, or that teaching writing is equivalent to grammar lessons alone. Additionally, faculty in various disciplines may simply lack confidence in their own writing, or they may not see writing as integrally connected to the delivery and discussion of course content. For any of the above reasons (or a combination of several), some people who work directly with student writers may take a dim view of writing, or they may not see the importance of explicitly discussing with their students the conventions of and expectations for student writing. Due to this dystopian vision, faculty and others who work with students may implicitly discourage students from practicing writing, which can in turn encourage what Dweck (2010) refers to as a “fixed mindset”—the idea that a student's abilities are inherent and unchangeable with practice. It is this “fixed mindset” that can prevent students from developing much-needed written communication skills. However, we argue that to combat a slanted or biased view of writing, anyone who works with students must be able to discuss and demonstrate its value. For example, at a brick-and-mortar university using a traditional faculty model, faculty from all disciplines—from accounting to engineering to the humanities—need to explain and emphasize the significance of writing to their students. Additionally, at an online university with a disaggregated model, anyone who works with students—from advisors to content experts to evaluators to program developers—should continually keep in mind the central role that writing plays in a student's ability to demonstrate competency in virtually any area. Even in universities where writing centers are available, all student-facing faculty and employees should be a student's “writing advocate,” emphasizing the need for good communication skills. Indeed, writing is the central mode for communicating in nearly every field, and understanding the particular methods of and expectations for writing (which enable students to demonstrate ways of doing and thinking) specific to each discipline is central to students' ability to be successful in that discipline (Carter, 2007). Success stems from a “growth mindset” (Dweck, 2010). Therefore, bias from mentors and instructors about the insignificance of writing for particular disciplines or fields of study must be abolished. Instructors must be willing to change their own fixed mindset and change their perspective to believe that writing is more than just a “soft skill.” For instructors or other student-facing faculty, this re-thinking or re-training comes, in part, from an understanding of the difference between writing for performance vs. writing competency (i.e., the difference between preparing a student for an A paper and helping students carry their writing skills beyond graduation). Additionally, boosting instructors' confidence in helping students become more successful writers will, in turn, create more “writing advocates” and so will greatly reduce widespread bias (intentional or otherwise) against writing as a much needed and desired skill. Faculty members who come in contact with students can—and need to—become writing advocates. Not only can they understand and emphasize the importance of writing, but they can assist students in developing competency in writing as they progress through their education. In order to assist faculty in becoming writing advocates, we will offer several useful strategies toward the end of this paper to help even those most hesitant about writing begin to emphasize the value of writing to their students and enable them to become stronger, more competent writers. Writing Across the Curriculum (WAC) and Writing in the Disciplines (WID) are two movements that have long emphasized writing in classes outside of the humanities. Whereas WAC takes a more interdisciplinary approach, emphasizing writing to learn, WID focuses more on students as professionals—learning, thinking, writing, and expressing themselves as the future skilled employees they wish to be. What can be somewhat problematic is that not all universities include a formal WAC/WID program and, as we have discussed, not all faculty members view writing as an essential piece of their curricula. Carter (2007) argues, “In a model of education understood as the delivery of specialized disciplinary knowledge, writing is considered outside the disciplines, the province of English teachers, and thus unable to play an important role in the disciplines” (p. 386). However, writing is essential to all disciplines; it is how meaning, knowledge, and content are preserved, disseminated, and kept in the academic conversation. And so, the responsibility for writing advocacy falls upon all of those who work with students. WID means that writing tasks should not only adhere to the course's standards for content but should also be held to the expectations of standard formatting and grammar. After all, in order to demonstrate competency, one must be able to communicate one's understanding and ability, or one's knowing and doing. Writing leads to deeper knowing, and it enables students to demonstrate their capacity for doing (Carter, 2007). What we are arguing for is not that students learn to write in order to pass an examination or assignment (performance-based grading), but rather that students learn the value of writing and the positive pragmatic applications of writing well that pertain not just to their coursework in the immediate present but to their work and lives outside of the academy, to their future employment and the possibility of advancement and leadership. While some writing fundamentals are transferable—and essential—many writing skills are discipline- and genre-specific, and they must be explicitly taught. In addition, the importance of writing as a way of fully participating in and contributing to a discipline must be emphasized. The only way to communicate the importance of one's discipline and one's research and results is precisely that—to communicate it. In a traditional university model, faculty have tried to address the issue of emphasizing the importance of writing through WAC and WID. Our focus, though, is primarily on competency-based education (CBE) because we see it as a particularly fruitful place to demonstrate the argument that all student-facing faculty and staff need to become writing advocates. CBE is different from traditional performance-related (course and credit-based) education in that it focuses on what students already know and what they can demonstrate that they have learned (competency). It is not solely based on grades (performance). CBE offers a new perspective on learning and therefore on writing; it enables us to see writing as a continually developing skill rather than a one-off performance. CBE also offers particularly rich possibilities for helping students to develop stronger writing skills and a place where the overall importance of writing can and should be emphasized. Online education offers a particularly good environment for students to learn the value of writing because they have so much contact with many different instructors and subject-matter experts, and much of that contact comes through written correspondence. As Robinson (2013) points out, “Some [faculty] will facilitate courses, which in the online environment might mean more opportunities to work one-on-one with students at their pace and skill level. Other faculty may choose to focus on assessing and evaluating student work” (para. 3). Each of those faculty members will work, in some way, with student writing. Indeed, even as early as the advising process, the first emails, or welcome calls, faculty and staff have the opportunity to engage a student in a discussion about writing; the advisor can emphasize the centrality of writing in the student's program. If the student has been out of school for some time, then an advisor can emphasize simple writing strategies to help the student overcome anxiety and fear. Essentially, then, what we are arguing for is a vigorous renewal of WAC/WID in all institutions, but particularly in competency-based education. The disaggregated model—one employed by many CBE institutions—is both rich in possibility and fraught with possible downfalls. In this environment, faculty can concentrate solely on being a subject-matter expert (SME), and “a bifurcated or disaggregated faculty model is more efficient because faculty are no longer pressured to do it all” (Robinson, 2013, para. 3). In some instructors' minds, then, the disaggregated model isolates their fields from other fields—they need only concentrate on their individual talent and their raison d'etre. In a disaggregated model, individuals contribute their own unique talents to their team in order to reach some kind of goal, and individual team members have their own ways of disseminating information to their students. Because of this specialization, however, it may be unclear in a disaggregated model whose responsibility it is to teach writing. A disaggregated model may lead to a breakdown in communication, where disciplines are further balkanized, and a subject-matter expert concentrates only on his or her field. Within these silos, it may be harder to see the bigger picture—an emphasis on the student's whole education or why students are less successful in particular disciplines than they should be—and it may be less likely that subject-matter experts and other student-facing faculty and staff enact writing advocacy. In order to actively work against this balkanization and to return the focus to developing the student's competency in cross-curricular areas, like writing, instructors, mentors, and faculty must connect students with necessary resources. Refocusing on writing advocacy will enable students to become competent writers who can perform well not only on particular tasks but who can continually adapt to different environments and maintain writing skills that communicate effectively with diverse audiences. One strength of Competency Based Education is that it “dis-aggregates” the faculty role, putting some of these responsibilities onto supporting staff and learning technologies, while allowing highly qualified instructors more time to engage in high-leverage student interactions around content and achievement. (para. 2) Indeed, any person with a student-facing role should take responsibility for explaining to students the importance of being able to write and write well, not only for a particular task, but in order to more deeply understand their chosen field, its conventions, and its discipline-specific requirements. This responsibility does not mean that all instructors and student-facing faculty must become grammar police; rather, it means that they must explicitly discuss the relevance of writing competently. They must demystify the process of writing to help students recognize both the importance of the fundamentals of writing well and the shifting rhetorical landscapes into which they write; in other words, they must help students understand the parameters of various assignments and help them connect the assignments to “real world” situations. The message and its delivery need to be both clear and consistent among all the student's interactions throughout a student's entire university experience. Even a course that requires no formal written essay can have set standards of communication, meaning that emails, group work, or question responses should be well-written and adhere to academic grammatical standards. Assuming that our students are already masters of this new community and its discourses after just a brief time in the parlor is unfair; it holds them accountable for expectations that they neither know about nor know how to meet. Assuming that we don't need to be explicit about assignment expectations creates frustration for students, and for us: we won't get the papers we want to read. (para. 3) Perhaps one of the most problematic results of faculty's hesitation to discuss writing or the process of revision is that this hesitation about (or bias against) writing instruction may create confusion or frustration for students as they tackle their projects and assignments. Indeed, if they are not made explicit, students may not understand the direct connections between content and writing—that to be able to demonstrate one's understanding of content, one must be able to communicate that understanding fluently. As Coyle (2010) notes, “Students often focus only on content, and they may be confused when poorly written papers result in a lower grade” (p. 198). These low grades may cause students—budding scientists, historians, engineers, entrepreneurs—to lose confidence in their ability to be successful in their desired field. It may also lead students to believe that they are just innately bad at writing (or it may reinforce that notion, no matter where students first picked it up). tend to avoid revision, either because they see it as a threat to their sense of intelligence or because they see it as futile because of unchangeable inadequacy; both types of learners are likely to quit when faced with a challenge and less likely to work harder to succeed. However, students should never have to reach this level of discouragement because, long before it could occur, faculty should set aside or at the very least acknowledge any negative bias or preconceived notions, and they should begin discussions with the student about writing's centrality to each discipline. Students should be given the chance to realize that writing is not about intellect but about developing skill. And it is not just a skill confined to the academic arena but rather one that can take them beyond academia and into their future career paths. The old adage advises that it takes a village to raise a child—and so does it take all people working with a student to “raise” a competent writer. Conversations about writing must happen early and often, and all writing advocates must work collaboratively, on some level, to support students in their competence and not just in their skill/performance level. So, how does a person become a writing advocate? How does a person who dislikes writing, struggles with writing, or wants to avoid discussions of writing become a writing advocate? How does a person who fears the word “grammar” or cringes at comma usage rules become a writing advocate? How does a person who loves writing but has so much on his plate already become a writing advocate? How does a successful, well-published faculty member become a writing advocate? The answers to these questions are often fairly simple and even intuitive, but the strategies that we outline below are drawn from writing center practices that are evidence-based and well-researched. There is a full spectrum of ways to support students as they learn to write, but the first key is to explicitly and consistently discuss writing as an integral part of students' educational experience. Writing advocates recognize and explain that communication in any field is the avenue for demonstrating competency, for communicating findings, for illuminating new discoveries or persuading audiences to create change. The second key to becoming a writing advocate is to recognize that writing is inseparable from—and indeed, already integrated into—the student's pathway to a degree. Discussing writing, then, is a natural outgrowth of discussing any reading assignment or performance assessment, both formative and summative. A third key, one with which nearly all faculty are already familiar and already practice consistently, is to consider each student individually. Being a writing advocate for students depends upon recognizing each student as unique—and so their fears, struggles, and educational backgrounds are also unique. Keeping these three keys in mind, we would also like to offer more concrete strategies for working with students on their writing; these strategies can be integrated into the work that people who support students already do (for that reason, we call them “comfort zone strategies”), and they can help faculty take smart, strong steps toward becoming writing advocates. Any person working with students can try out these strategies to encourage students to practice writing, to think critically about writing, and to continue to improve their writing, which will not only help students succeed in their courses but also build skills that will serve them throughout their lives outside of the academy. The specific methods below are gathered from research as well as from our own successful experiences working with student writers, and they represent a full spectrum of strategies that will help people expand their comfort zones when discussing writing. These strategies are useful even with predetermined curricula and are applicable for anyone who works with students. Often, it may seem to students that their assignments are artificially constructed, that they have no relevance in “the real world” (or “IRL,” in the newer parlance). If faculty and staff can make connections between the writing that students are asked to do for an assignment and the writing that students will be expected to do in their chosen field, that may help students recognize the relevance and importance of writing overall—and of becoming familiar with the conventions of the discourse in their chosen field. If writing is particularly intimidating to students, or a small sample of students' writing is needed in order to see how best they can be assisted, then it may be most helpful to ask them to respond to informal/simple queries. Faculty and staff could ask for an email response, a short paragraph, or a response to a questionnaire. These assignments do not have to involve content at all; students can be asked to introduce themselves via email, to provide a quick inventory of what they are worried about for an upcoming term, or to respond to a particular quotation or idea. As noted above, faculty and staff (regardless of students' classes being writing dependent or not) should encourage good communication skills in emails and other written correspondence as this sets the tone for writing advocacy and skill set development. One way to help students continue to develop their writing capabilities is to help them create a writing-rich—even writing-immersive—environment for themselves. A writing advocate may suggest and encourage some activities to help the student become more familiar and more comfortable with writing generally. The writing advocate can review these activities or not; the key is to encourage the student to write, write, write. Some possible activities are the following: emailing back and forth with a writing advocate, emailing peers, journaling, helping children with homework, reading the news or a magazine every day, and/or writing short summaries of the pieces read. These things are very low stakes, but they can immerse the student in writing every day, and they prepare students for building up to larger, higher-stakes assignment. Direct instruction is fairly self-explanatory, and it is, perhaps, the most tempting strategy because it seems the most efficient. It is also, interestingly, a strategy that has often been eschewed by writing instructors and theorists in the past—and that is because it does not seem to permit the student to hold authority over his or her own paper. It is, quite simply, providing direct explanations and examples for how to revise (Mackiewicz & Thompson, 2014). And yet, many students find this kind of direct instruction enormously useful; it demystifies some writing patterns, it provides templates and examples to refer back to as the student continues revising, and it introduces students to the “lingo” of writing and creates a new lens through which to view writing (e.g., “nonessential phrases,” “independent and dependent clauses”). Truesdell (2007) notes that by providing direct instruction and “showing [my student] the discourse expectations of a knowledge community, I gave her more freedom and control as a writer” (p. 11). These terms, directions, and examples can offer students a chance to build confidence and a way to begin building new frameworks for building future writing. The essential thing to remember when using direct instruction is to use it fairly sparingly; faculty should consider employing it when a student seems entirely “at sea,” when a student has never (or has rarely) encountered the concept under discussion, or when a student asks for examples. The second important thing to remember is that direct instruction can create a relationship of dependency rather than a relationship of collaboration and gradual independence for the student. And so, the eventual goal is to move toward a place where direct instruction is no longer needed, and writing advocates can shift from a position of instruction to a position of support and partner in making revisions. Mackiewicz and Thompson (2014) report that “students actually welcome and expect…directiveness, so long as they control the conference agenda” (p. 60). Thus, the third key is to ensure that the student should be in control of the session, the decisions, and his or her own writing. Those reminders will allow the student to avoid any embarrassment, to remain engaged, and to continue building independence as a writer. So, rather than directly editing the student's document, a writing advocate should leave the student in charge of making changes on his or her paper, and the advocate should leave the direction of the writing discussion primarily in the student's hands. Reading aloud is often a powerful strategy for helping students revise their own work. However, it can also be intimidating and even embarrassing to hear one's own writing out loud. One way to alleviate this potential intimidation or embarrassment is to allow the student to choose who reads the work aloud; this choice gives the student agency in the writing process. Additionally, writing advocates can encourage students to read their own work aloud. Reading aloud enables students to involve more of themselves in the writing process—seeing and hearing their writing aloud simultaneously encourages attentiveness and it will help students begin to recognize their own patterns of error. Additionally, reading aloud helps students recognize the fact that they are communicating with readers, and they may begin to see where their communication breaks down. If students have difficulty reading aloud, they might also access an online text-to-speech reader (e.g., Natural Readers) so that they can hear their writing in other voices. Still, one of the best ways to discuss writing is to read a student's work aloud with that student, pausing to discuss any sentences or paragraphs that are not yet communicating effectively. No matter a writing advocate's level of expertise in the field, it is important to remember that writing should (in an ideal world) communicate with a broad audience of readers. Thus, if faculty can put themselves in the shoes of a more general reader and respond to the writing that way, they may find better ways to help students work through any unclear, tangled-up, or incomplete thoughts. It is also important for a writing advocate to explicitly highlight the fact that he or she is responding as a reader. We often foreground our comments in exactly this way, for example, “As a reader, I tripped over this sentence,” or “For me, as a reader, I understood the sentence up to this point, but then the meaning became a little unclear.” Writing advocates can use a variety of questions to lead the student toward revision. They can, for example, ask leading questions; some of these may be questions to which the student already knows the answer, and then, the discussion can evolve to include more open-ended questions. In other words, asking questions with known answers requires the student to participate and provide those known answers, which will help build confidence. Additionally, writing advocates/SMEs can ask “either/or” questions, otherwise known as “forcing a choice” for the student (Mackiewicz & Thompson, 2014, p. 62). Finally, writing advocates can move to asking questions with unknown answers, thereby asking the student to explore the possible options. In most of these cases, writing advocates can withhold some information and help the student move toward the needed revision through investigative questioning, asking the student to build confidence and skills simultaneously. This kind of questioning is also called “cognitive scaffolding,” and it assists the student in identifying patterns of error or revising his or her writing without providing specific directives. This kind of scaffolding also creates a discussion where the student maintains agency—an essential part of building students' confidence in writing. As the student progresses, faculty can move away from questions with known answers or “forced choice” questions and toward more open-ended questions. The caveat, though, is that this process is not linear; while a student may eventually master one kind of pattern of error (e.g., comma usage after introductory elements), they may need more scaffolding or direct instruction to move toward mastery of other issues (e.g., comma usage around nonessential phrases). Students need motivation and encouragement throughout the writing process; of course, the level of encouragement will vary for each student and for each writing assignment. “Encouragement,” though, is more complex than cheerleading and praise. Of course, marking the student's successes and positive steps is very important; noting smaller moments of achievement helps students build the confidence they need in order to take more risks in their future writing and to tackle future writing tasks. But more broadly, motivation depends upon “checking in” with the student throughout the discussion. It is important to follow a moment of direct instruction, for example, with questions like “Does that make sense?” or “What questions do you have so far?” These kinds of questions insist, gently, that the student participates in the discussion about his or her writing, and they also serve to reinforce that the student is, ultimately, in charge of the discussion. Additionally, they will help to temper direct instruction, to make sure that the discussion about revisions is tackled in smaller steps, and to see the student's progress with particular writing concepts. Using these questions, then, can guide writing advocates as they decide when to shift from one particular strategy (e.g., direct instruction, leading questions) to others. Writing advocates can and should rely on familiar, consistent, and inclusive language. As discussed above, using the language of grammar can help the student see his or her writing anew, but that language should be clear and consistent. As an example, in attempting to help students understand how to introduce and contextualize quotations, we began using the phrase “entrance ramp,” treating the quotation as a “highway” onto which we needed to ease the reader. This imagistic metaphor was successful for students and became a consistent kind of shorthand for us to discuss integrating research with students. Additionally, inclusive language is essential, as it is the kind of language that indicates that “we are all in this together.” Explaining writing concepts in terms of “we” is useful to build rapport, to encourage the student to ask questions, and to demonstrate that writing is something that everyone struggles with at some point. Additionally, though building rapport is essential, it is also useful to keep in mind that the student's paper is his or her own. Therefore, it is helpful to specifically reinforce the student's agency over his or her own writing. Though faculty may know exactly what they would do with a particular paragraph or sentence, if they continue to insist that the student come up with solutions and ideas, they will find (as we often have) that students come up with innovative and creative approaches to revising their own writing. All of us struggle with writing in some ways and at some times. As professionals and subject-matter experts, we have often had to reflect on our own ways and styles of communicating, and many of us have had someone along the way who has helped us recognize our own patterns of error or problematic habits. As a (rather embarrassing) example, one of us did not know until she was a junior in college how to use a semicolon. A mentor pointed out her excessive use of “and,” piling item on top of item, creating long and winding sentences, and the mentor demonstrated the appropriate uses of a semicolon. In our work as instructors and writing center consultants, we have found that many students misuse and/or fear the semicolon, but when this instructor shares her own fraught path with semicolons, the students often laugh a bit, relax, and are more open to learning about how to use semicolons and how to vary their sentence structure and communicate more effectively. Empathy with a student's struggles can also emphasize a growth mindset rather than a static mindset. Students who walk in believing they are just not very good at writing, have never been good at writing, and will never be good at writing can learn from the examples of how others overcame their own struggles with writing—not just that they have an ally but that they, too, can overcome obstacles and that writing is a continual process of improving. Writing skill is not static. In addition to online text-to-speech readers, students have many resources available to develop their writing skills further. However, they may not have any idea that those resources exist. Additionally, those who work with students may want to be a writing advocate but have no faith in their editorial skills. In either case, it is worth it to explicitly provide information about writing resources that are available to students. As Coyle (2010) explains, “Providing locations, phone numbers, or web links to writing centers and library resources communicates an expectation that writing is important and support is available” (p.196). For example, most universities—online and traditional—have a writing center available to students. And yet, many students either do not know about the writing center or hesitate to schedule time with or walk into the writing center. Providing students with information about the writing center may help students take the first step; if possible, people who work with students could also “walk” their students through the process of working with a writing center—either physically walking them to the center, explaining positive experiences they or others have had with writing centers, or helping students move past their hesitation by helping them schedule an appointment. There are also plenty of resources available to students outside the writing center; more and more online support appears all the time. For example, in addition to a text-to-speech reader like Natural Readers, students—especially those who have difficulty putting their ideas on paper or struggle with a learning disability—may benefit from a speech-to-text device like Dragon. (Free versions are, of course, often available on smart phones, as well.) Spellcheck and grammar checkers are also widely available. Though a grammar checker like the one that accompanies Microsoft Word may be inconsistent, it can still alert students to issues with their sentences. In addition, newer apps like Grammarly can be even more useful in helping students revise. It is important to advise students that Grammarly or similar apps are not “fix-alls” for their writing, but they can instead help students review the decisions they made while writing and perhaps reconsider those choices. If an app picks up a particular issue with a sentence, the app itself may provide an incorrect recommendation for addressing that issue, but the student can then reconsider that sentence to see if it is communicating the intended meaning clearly and accurately. Overall, these strategies—used in combination and whenever needed—offer writing advocates an excellent foundation for conversations about writing with students. And of course, they must be used in response to the individual student; as with all teaching and student support, one size will not fit all students. Maneuvering between instruction, questioning, and encouragement, based on the students' own responses and needs, is a central piece of writing support. Practicing these various strategies and techniques in order to be able to adapt “on the fly” will create a more effective discussion about revision with the student. Writing is fluid. It moves beyond the moment, meaning that it is not only needed in academics but beyond graduation—far beyond. As a lifelong skill, writing competency must be fostered, clarified, and illuminated. To enforce an idea that communication and writing are not lifelong practices is a disservice to students. Clearly, anyone who interacts with students on a daily, weekly, or even monthly basis must counsel students that good communication skills will transfer into their future careers, whether those are in academia or not. Indeed, throughout the student's lifecycle, every person who has contact with a student—from enrollment, to graduation counselors, and even to alumni career services centers—has an obligation to be pro-writing. Students need a core group of coaches and writing advocates who can positively enforce the idea of writing well. With simple and practical strategies, professors, instructors, advisors, and counselors can easily incorporate writing activities or discussion into their courses, meetings, or advising sessions. Learning or implementing a few of the strategies mentioned here will not only provide direction but will also help the most reluctant person to feel confident about being a writing advocate. Kelley Gordon holds her Ph.D. in Literature and Criticism from Indiana University of Pennsylvania. She has taught for over 20 years and has an expertise in teaching the writing process and in assisting the emergent writer. In her free time, Kelley enjoys gardening and exploring the great outdoors with her family. Kelley takes great pride in watching her students take ownership of their work, gain confidence in their writing, and become competent and fearless writers. Sally Smits Masten graduated from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro in 2016 with her Ph.D. in American Literature, focusing on rhetoric, poetics, and southern poetry. She has taught for the past 18 years and currently works one-on-one with student writers. She enjoys exploring new technological tools to help these writers while recognizing the continuing importance of traditional teaching tools, such as building rapport, modeling, and asking open-ended questions.