I've been moping a little bit this weekend because -- after a year's "release" from teaching the freshman composition course (my first "break" from teaching basic writing classes in twelve years of teaching) -- I'm back at "the front lines" of what many teachers would term a "service" course (i.e., a course that "serves" the college and its students rather than my field). Like most profs, I'd prefer to teach all upper division courses in my own field of specialization -- putting my PhD to work and engaging in material related directly to my interests -- rather than teaching basic argumentative and research skills to students who, initially anyway, are often hostile because the course is a requirement rather than an elective. Whether a former AP English student or a person who's English is a second language, most of the students dread the course. I always strive to make it interesting and I enjoy enlivening and energizing students to overcome those fears....partly because I'm well aware how this sort of situation can easily generate a "neither of us want to be here" vibe and undermine the student's education. I also believe deep in my heart in the mission of the course: I want to help others become better writers, no matter what grade level or major they are in.

My campus is in the minority in this country when it comes to full-time faculty teaching basic writing. On most college campuses, grad students -- or adjunct instructors with MA degrees, at best -- teach this sort of course. One source estimates that only 7% of the composition courses in this country are taught by full-time faculty. That statistic amazes me. We probably ought to be very proud for remaining so committed to our students' writing skills and the core curriculum. I should proud, too, to not be part of a community that exploits adjunct faculty or grad students for cheap labor. And yet I personally find myself wondering if my advanced degree ought to be put to better use. More than once, I've whined to my colleagues: Why did I bother spending seven years earning a PhD when I'd be "qualified" to teach this course fresh out of a BA program in English?

Of course, composition is just one course in my load. And it does keep me in touch with the students at the college. I like getting to know new English majors when they're fresh out of high school. I like seeing the non-majors -- people I wouldn't have known otherwise -- when they walk the graduation platform four years later, with pride. I like talking about current events and arguing with the younger students about various cultural issues. I enjoy teaching first year seminar. Most of the students are more honest with me because they know that I'm not going to be their advisor or major professor, so their motives -- while sometimes questionable -- are often more genuine. And while the work is sometimes more difficult than a course in my major, the payoffs are plenty.

At The Chronicle today I read David Perlmutter's optimistic essay, "Teaching the 101" , which was helped to remind me why I enjoy this often difficult course. The essay argues why full-time faculty ought to teach introductory courses, rather than graduate teaching assistants or newly minted PhDs. Granted, Perlmutter is talking about courses in his major (introduction to media courses) rather than general writing (composition courses -- which, while grounded in the field of rhetoric, often isn't taught by specialists in it). Regardless, Perlmutter rightfully asserts that these types of courses are better taught by wiser, more experienced teachers, and that they can rejuvenate the veteran faculty member in return, offering up "an anti-aging tonic" because they keep the teacher on his or her toes. Introductory courses challenge profs to think carefully about their discipline and force them to explain and justify what they do more clearly, rather than relying on jargon.

I generally agree and I am -- ultimately -- a little excited about going back to freshman composition. So far, my students are wonderfully energetic. I have a class of active talkers, eager to discuss the readings, which is always a good thing. And I just read their first drafts on a paper (an 'extended definition of education' essay) and I was actually impressed by their talent. Generally, the writing wasn't as poor as I remember it being in my other comp classes. Perhaps I'm coming at it with a new set of eyes and a renewed sense of interest. Whatever the case, the variables at work are always different...indeed, while my standard courses in creative writing often blur together in my mind, the composition sections are always distinctly unique.

But as much as teaching the intro classes challenges the teacher to "justify what they do" I do sometimes tire of justifying the academic life/work to the student who simply wants the ticket to a job. Whereas an intro or "101" course teaches a student "What does a ____ major do?" a comp class teaches "What does a generally educated critical thinker do?" I'm not convinced that that's as challenging to the teacher as an intro class in one's specialization. I think I'm particularly good at "selling" the life of the mind to even the most jaded business-minded students, but it can still be exhausting playing the roles of a motivational speaker for reading, a cheerleader for critical thinking, and a used car salesman for the pleasures of writing. Teaching the same skillset for basic collegiate survival over and over can be a bore. Especially if the students are bored by it!

Luckily, teaching freshman composition allows me to customize the class and assign new readings that interest me, and set the stage for argumentative discussions for the term to come. The pleasure of teaching comp isn't so much a return to "the foundations" as many "intro" (or 101) courses are -- instead, it lies in cultivating the student's development. It lies in hearing students argue a case with authority for the first time, or seeing a student defend a position righteously in a discussion, or in simply watching a student's voice emerge across the semester. The challenges are unique and though the general impact of the first weeks of classes still stings, I'm rising to one challenge that I hadn't thought about too much: how to be a better teacher of composition than the former me, that jaded guy in front of the classroom who's taught it for twelve years. For every freshman in my comp class, I am their first (and sometimes only) writing teacher ever. I need to remember that. Likewise, these are not the same students I've taught in the past. I can probably learn quite a bit from them -- even quite a bit about teaching from them -- than I assume.

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