Andragogy is
technically defined as adult education, so one might think of a night school of
sorts for adults. However, the idea of andragogy could be extended to a college
course. We may refer to teaching college students as pedagogy, but the truth is
these college students are all technically adults and will wanted to be treated
as such. The best way, then, to treat college students as adults would be to
think of a first-year writing pedagogy as an andragogy of sorts. Teaching
college may be considered pedagogy, but pedagogy is just the manner of teaching
in general. So in relation to contact zones, andragogy is more of a narrower
focus on a broad subject like pedagogy. The perception of teaching a first-year
composition course as a andragogy gives you a better view on how to handle your
college class instead of just using pedagogy as this general class that will no
doubt feel bland to the college student. You have to give your pedagogy a type
of brand, or else you’ll risk making your teaching not really matter to any of
these 18 and up learners who feel almost above the bland pedagogy they view as
being the same level as high school. Besides, using andragogy to these college
students, some of which will probably be 30 and older, so they in particular
mind being treated like any child learner under a vague pedagogy. Treating your
first-year writing class like a andragogy, then, will develop this relationship
between you the teacher and your first-year students that as a more solid
center than a broad and vague pedagogy ever would.
Sommers’s
article on the revision strategies of student writers and experienced adult
writers raises an important reason for why treating your first-year writing
pedagogy like an andragogy will have a more lasting effect on your students in
the long run. In the end, you want any student writers to become experienced
adult writers at the end of the class. By teaching them nothing but basic
readings and brief assignments from a website, you aren’t really helping them
with their writing experience so much as regurgitating the same pedagogical
practices in the students’ mouths in a matter not unlike a bird feeding her
babies. The student writers that Sommers interviewed for her article basically
view their writing as more of an assignment, taking out words and replacing
them with what they call better words or words that are like another well-known
writer’s words. Compare those ideas to those of the experienced writers that
Sommers covered, where they consider rewriting and revising not as taking out
and replacing words but instead as re-writing ways of conveying their
arguments, thinking about what and how they’ve written those concepts, and
deconstructing the ideas as they appear in their essays. A type of andragogy,
then, would be to teach these students to view their papers in the same fashion
that an experienced adult writer in the field. If a student uses this one
source that he or she thinks would spice up his or her paper, he or she needs
to learn from the composition course how he or she can reconstruct the paper
around this source while considering how the source relates to the base
argument instead of cramming the source into her basic paper. The main reason
why andragogy is important for first-year composition students is because
students need to not have their work treated as student works but as the works
of experienced adult writers. If we drill into their heads to be experienced writers
who constantly evaluate their works, then students will eventually become the
experienced adult writers mentioned by Sommers instead of her definition of
student writers.