Generating New Theory for Online Writing Instruction (OWI)
Introduction
My professional experiences as a writing program administrator, writing center director, and teacher suggest that online writing instruction (OWI) is a very complex interaction that is distinctive from face-to-face (f2f) interactions. These distinctions have become particularly apparent both in my research into computer-mediated communication (CMC) and during the development of two online writing labs (OWLs), where I looked to published literature for guidance as I encountered the problems associated with developing a writing program and practices in new online territory.
While the literature often reveals excitement about OWI and offers narratives with practical advice for using OWI, it does not adequately address the complex and distinctive nature of OWI. Additionally, questions surrounding the efficacy of OWI also are inadequately addressed. Because published discussions and arguments too often provide anecdote rather than empirical practice-based data for support, they generally fail to present convincing evidence that OWI is or is not efficacious in helping students to develop their writing. Addressing such basic issues seems crucial to understanding the nature of OWI, as well as how to work with it systematically and knowledgeably in a technologically shifting and costly educational environment.
Stephen North’s (1987) categorical view of knowledge making in Composition provided a helpful way to understand the gap in the literature about OWI is by borrowing. North’s work offers an even-handed explanation of eight methodological communities developed from three “rough groupings, held together by the kind of question that drives its constituent communities” (3). These groupings include the Practitioners¸ who ask “what do we know?” and “what do we do?”; the Scholars, who ask “what does it mean?”; and the Researchers” who ask “what happened (or happens)?” (3)
North reveals, somewhat unsurprisingly, that Practitioners number the greatest among those who are involved with the teaching and study of writing. Although their contributions have been increasingly devalued, he believes, the lore that constitutes practitioner knowledge has retained a strong foothold in the writing instruction community (22). Given the relative scarcity of training in its methodology, North also finds unsurprising the proportionately low number of Researchers. It is only the relatively low number of Scholars that he finds somewhat more surprising, given the roots and training that most have received in the traditional scholarly practices of a humanities-based discipline (61).
The proportions of knowledge making communities that North outlines in 1987 quite likely have shifted in the past fifteen years, but the literature of OWI, an outgrowth to some degree of Composition literature, seems not to reflect such a shift. There has been robust attention to developing knowledge, as seen in online writing-focused books, student texts, professional journals, listservs, and community discussions. However, the literature regarding OWI remains powerfully anecdotal, which is common to practitioner lore; it reflects the scholarship of a new area of study tentatively; and it reveals a relatively underdeveloped component in terms of research.
North’s categorical modes are valuable descriptions of methods of inquiry. Personally, I have contributed to, and benefited from, lore as a teacher, trainer, and program developer. I have struggled with the philosophical tenets that contemporary literature suggests underpins OWI process and practice. And, I have attempted to develop and articulate research that can be replicated, from an ethnographic perspective. Yet, I think that OWI research as reported by the published literature reflects an unfortunate lack of attention to practice-based research, a category that North does not include in his discussion.
Practice-based research reflects the interests and needs of practitioners who also are researchers. Such research sometimes is called naturalistic inquiry in that it requires no experimental manipulation by the inquirer, assumes no a priori outcomes, and occurs in such field settings as that of classrooms and individual teaching interactions (Lincoln and Guba, 7-8, 11). It is a problem-driven inquiry (Hucken, 88-9) and admits of multiple research procedures and perspectives, as prove helpful to the study (Larson 291). Practice-based research addresses the questions of practitioners who are deeply involved both in research and development of OWI—an appropriate direction of inquiry for the shape shifting terrain (North 6) and new boundaries necessitated by OWI. Such research may be crucial to uncovering principles inherent in OWI and to developing new theory to aid understanding and growth in OWI.
What follows is a brief discussion of some of the literature relative to OWI. Its primary purposes are to show two examples of the problematic thinking that is propagated by currently popular modes of inquiry and to suggest how adopting a theory-generating stance grounded in practice-based research may shift thinking in helpful ways.
Connecting Social Constructivism to F2F and OWI
First, the Social Constructivist and, to a lesser extent, Expressivist theories about f2f writing instruction tend to be expressed and applied in problematic ways. Then, using generally unhelpful comparisons and assumptions that f2f and online instruction inherently are or should be interchangeable, the same problematic value judgments that are made regarding these theoretical applications to f2f learning also are made regarding OWI.
Contemporary learning and writing instruction have privileged Social Constructivism over other common philosophical theoretical constructs. Collaboration, as an offshoot of Social Constructivism, is upheld as the ideal teaching and learning position (Harris and Pemberton, 2001; Kemp, 1998; Hawisher, et al, 1996; Murphy, 1994; Smit, 1994; Bruffee, 1984, 1993; Gere, 1990; LeFevre, 1987; Vygotsky, 1962). Perhaps not in practice, but certainly in the literature, other theoretical constructs tend to be devalued. Indeed, published views are surprisingly normative, almost ideological, in favor of a “collaborative” and “dialogic” practice that excludes other theoretical constructs. The exception seems to be Expressivism, which values the student writer's individualized ownership and development of text over the social.
Both in terms of practice, or lore, and scholarship, or philosophy, examining the prevailing theoretical construct of Social Constructivism reveals problematic thinking. Indeed, a valid concern is that we have failed to criticize Social Constructivism thoroughly, giving in to an appearance that collaboration follows a neat cycle of student-to-other dialogue with better learning and stronger writing as the presumed result. However, most of the literature reveals a largely untested theory of collaboration in the f2f setting. Too much evidence for broad, sweeping claims about the efficacy of collaboration is based on anecdote, lending the appearance, if not the reality, of an ideology rather than researched practice. David Smit (1994), whose points remain valid in 2001, outlines some of the flaws inherent in collaborative learning as an integral aspect of Social Constructivism. He argues that such traditional methods as lecture can develop critical thinking and cooperative problem solving, values often ascribed only to collaborative learning. Further, he argues that collaborative methods quite often represent a mix of pedagogies, difficult to sort out and test in empirical research, that remain unproven in terms of validity (70-2).
An example of uncritically accepting collaborative learning is revealed in the apparent disjuncture between expecting student writers to develop ideas collaboratively and then to be able to claim individualized ownership of these ideas as expressed in their writing (Speigelman, 1998). This disjuncture, which rarely is addressed head on, leaves students in the unfortunate position of being asked to develop but not to appropriate ideas in collaboration with teachers, tutors, and other students. Yet, the fear of students appropriating ideas, which often is interpreted as a form of cheating or plagiarism, reveals a fundamental flaw with the commonly held view of collaboration—one that is in distinct tension with the position that when students collaborate, they are empowered by learning to construct knowledge socially (Bruffee, 1984, 1993). It follows that if using socially constructed knowledge in written work constitutes cheating in the academy’s view, then students are placed in an untenable position. Such an untenable situation, whereby students may recognize that they must collaborate yet maintain individual ownership of their texts, most likely affects them both in the f2f and the OWI environments (Hewett, 1998, 2000).
A linguistic perspective presents a potentially broader view of collaborative idea generation and sharing. “Iterability” and “presupposition” are linguistic terms that reveal intertextuality among texts, a feature with a neutral connotation. Peter L. Mortensen (1992) explains intertextuality as both iterability, or repetition, and appropriation of “what has been said about” the text. He defines presupposition as “assumptions that presuppose talk about” the text (119). In the case of asynchronous or synchronous online teaching interactions and tutorials, “texts” can mean teacher/tutor and student written talk by way of local embedded comments, global end commentary, and/or dialogue, as well as text drafts in outlines, charts, lists, and various graphical representations of ideas and/or sentence-level development. This broader view of collaboration among writers and readers or teachers/tutors and students suggests that plagiarism or “theft” of ideas is not the most useful way to consider student appropriation of collaboration with others into their texts. Such appropriation may, in fact, be the results of successful collaboration and represents a powerful “potential for an exchange and sharing of writing and revision ideas” that should not be dismissed as negative without further careful study (Hewett, 1998, 55; see also Hewett, 2000). A practice-based research agenda might investigate collaboration from such a perspective and enable new insight.
Within the context of f2f peer groups, Candace Speigelman (1998, 2000) and Lisa Ede and Andrea Lunsford (2000) consider the issue of textual and ideational appropriation from the students’ points of view. However, their position is a minority one. About individualized writing instruction, or tutoring, Ede and Lunsford state: "Of course, many writing center staff worry about whether they are doing too much for and with student writers—e.g., doing their work for them. But to what extent does this stance result from a desire to avoid the criticisms of those most committed to hyper-individualism and hence suspicious of any kind of collaborative work?” (note 3, p. 38). The “hyper-individualism” that they mention appears to be indicative of the Expressivist view of individual ownership of ideas. Expressivism is, of course, a theoretical position that many of us hold in an eclectic practice (Thurber, 2000; English, 2000). The difficulty, as far as this argument is concerned, arises when this or any view is not consciously or openly owned and, thus, interferes with the development of practice-based research that can challenge or support the prevailing view.
Just as Social Constructivism, with its emphasis on dialogue and collaboration, appears to be viewed as necessary to successful f2f writing instruction, the literature reveals that this theoretical construct is applied similarly to OWI (Cygnowsky, 1990; Forman, 1990; Kemp, 1998; Hawisher, et al, 1996). For example, Muriel Harris and Michael Pemberton (2001) worry that when collaboratively developed ideas are recorded by the technology of online learning, a “pressing concern would be whether students would have too much of the conference available to them and might be tempted to appropriate tutors’ words as their own” (533). Certainly, they are not alone in this concern (Enders, 2000) and it is equally pertinent to writing instruction conducted through CMC. However, as I explained above, their issue represents an application of Social Constructivism that, while prominent in the minds of teachers frustrated with plagiarism, might be mitigated or at least illuminated by practice-based research.
David Coogan’s (1999) work presents a different case, yet reveals a similar application of Social Constructivism to OWI that may limit its development within his theoretical framework. His major argument is innovative because it challenges the prevailing borders of textual ownership, seeking “dialogic literacy” through "generative dissensus," that would encourage students to read and use each other's writing in their own writing-in-development (xx). Coogan clearly sees differences between f2f and OWI in that he prizes email over f2f tutoring because of the potential for leaving behind what he sees as an "interventionist" approach where the tutor modifies the student's behavior towards an accepted view of functional literacy. Yet, his ideas become narrowly normative in that only a "conversation with another human being," a sustained dialogue or collaboration between tutor and writer, can lead to these ends (27-8). The implication seems to be that f2f and OWI inherently are or should be interchangeable at the theoretical and practical levels.
Similarly, Social Constructivism (and sometimes Expressivism) often is used as the reason that OWI cannot or does not work. For example, Harris (1998, 2000; Harris and Pemberton, 2001) consistently expresses concerns that OWI in the form of individualized OWL instruction, asynchronous or synchronous, simply cannot work as well as traditional f2f tutorials and, therefore, is deficient. The nature of such a comparison is dubious, however. First, the f2f tutorial has not been proven to be efficacious to the extent that the literature, which uses largely anecdotal over empirical research, suggests. There is much about f2f writing instruction—group and individual—that remains unknown. Furthermore, there are distinctive differences between interactions that occur on and offline, as my own research demonstrates, and these distinctions require further research when assessing OWI (Hewett, 1998, 2000; see also Crump, 1998).
When educators, scholars, and researchers do consider the distinctions between f2f and online instruction, we often make comparisons, which is a natural way of coming to understand the elements of an issue, as well as to identify and test assumptions about it. Thus, it is helpful to understanding the nature of OWI, as a relatively unknown learning environment, when we consider it against the nature of f2f writing instruction, about which we know more and with which we are more comfortable. However, comparison as an investigative method loses its value when, upon finding differences, people see them as deficits rather than as an opportunity for deeper practice-based exploration. Such comparisons may contribute to a tendency to try to fit OWI into the mold of f2f writing instruction, where differences seem to be interpreted as OWI not doing what it is “supposed” to do.
George Cooper, Kara Bui, and Linda Riker (2000) provide an illustration of such a problem of comparison. They find potential in online tutoring for “retain[ing] a sense of collaboration and humanity in the online forum” (92). Yet, their thinking does not move beyond the acknowledged "principles of face-to-face tutoring [which] do not transfer completely to online tutoring" (92). Their message is mixed because, despite their satisfaction with online tutorials that “can maintain and even expand the valuable principles of collaborative teaching and learning" (99), they fail to challenge whether the principles of f2f tutoring that cannot be replicated in this new environment even should be replicated in it. Is the purpose of OWI, by way of tutorial or other pedagogy, to replace the f2f teaching interaction? Is there room in student-centered learning assistance for both types of teaching interactions? To address such questions, we need practice-based driven research that explores the distinctive natures of these media.
Another example of this problem arises with practitioners who compare f2f theoretical constructs to OWI and then find online instruction “disruptive” of the f2f practices with which they are comfortable. For example, Sharon Thomas, Danielle DeVoss, and Mark Hara (1998) have "struggled" with "conflicting claims" about online learning and have sought to move toward a "critical theory of technology" (74). They describe three brief trials with online asynchronous email instruction where they found that their consultants did not like it because of "loss of a give-and-take interaction with the student writers; the opportunity to use talk, to engage in conversation, to elicit possibilities from the writer" (76). They found their attempt at a chat room format for synchronous interactions to be a "restrictive one-speaker-at-a-time modality [that] elicited long-winded, 'teacherly' responses from our UWCs that resulted in one-sided conversations.” Eventually, they rejected OWI (76). Thomas, et al, demonstrate the difficult tension inherent in aligning themselves philosophically both with the dialogic possibilities of Social Constructivism and the individual writer’s primacy of Expressivism. However, their real issue appears to be that the online interactions did not look like the f2f tutorials to which they were accustomed. Subsequently, their article suggests that they used these differences as an opportunity to stop experimenting with OWI rather than to explore it. Yet, the extreme discomfort that Thomas, et al, express is a sign that the differences between f2f and online teaching and learning require our explorations into, and not our dismissal of, OWI.
The distinctive natures of f2f and OWI sometimes are used to argue the hopelessness of developing effective OWI practices. Regarding the uses of OWLs, Harris (1998) suggests that asynchronous (email) tutorials have no real future for helping students other than distance learners because students have difficulty in articulating their questions even in the f2f environment. Furthermore, she sees email tutoring as "constrained by its lack of real-time interaction and the lack of shared space in which to look at a paper with the tutor" (6-7). My own research supports the idea that real-time f2f (and, possibly, synchronous OWI) interaction is important to idea generation, but not that such interaction is necessary to all forms of writers’ problems. Perhaps because of its real-time nature, Harris sees potential for "more success" with synchronous interactions like MOOs [Multi-user dimension, Object Oriented environment] (7). Yet, even a MOO represents a deficient tutoring model for her: "Another feature needed for successful collaboration is shared space, space designed to support the relationship of the collaborators and to provide means for the collaborators to interact with or manipulate the text the writer is creating" (8). Yet, this comparison is inadequate for two reasons. First, “shared space” implicitly is defined as possible only in the f2f environment, whereas there are various ways that online media can provide shared space (e.g., chat rooms, document/file sharing, interactive whiteboards and classrooms). Second, Harris uncritically applies the notion of collaboration from f2f theory into the online environment, suggesting first that it is crucial to writing instruction and second that it is impossible in OWI. Practice-based research should address these issues.
More recently, Harris (2000) withholds her full support for OWI in the form of an OWL tutorial, not yet having found it capable of imitating the "collaborative" practice of the f2f venue: "We're going to have to find ways to remain committed to our theory and practice but able to do so in online ways that we are comfortable with. It's not obvious to me that we have yet found adequate ways to promote the interactive, collaborative environment we prize at our tutoring tables. . ." (16-7). Although I respect thoughtful resistance to OWI, I do not think that just looking for something with which we are "comfortable" is a helpful approach to integrating OWI with individualized writing instruction. Instead, what if we were to challenge the assumption that f2f collaboration is the only way that we can practice effective traditional individualized writing instruction? Would it then be easier to challenge this same assumption about OWI? I think that investigating our practices using empirically developed research in both the on- and offline environments will help us to reach useful answers. In this webtext, the "OWL Tutor Listserv Discussion" and "Tutorial Examples and Analyses" offer examples of teachers who question their practice-based and scholarly knowledge, as well as tutorial analyses that illustrate some of the questions that such practice-based, empirical research needs to address.
Finally, when practice, or lore, leads to attempting to make the online teaching interaction directly match the features of f2f instruction, logistical problems arise that can become practical, rather than theoretical, reasons for stopping or limiting online practice. Doug Enders (2000, 2001) uses Microsoft's NetMeeting (see also Thurber, 2000) for synchronous tutorials because it “works the same as a face-to-face tutorial; all the same areas are covered, including introductions, talk of the assignment, negotiation of the session’s agenda, and discussion and manipulation of the paper itself” (2000, p.13). Yet, despite its capability to reach the student in a real-time manner, NetMeeting “hasn't replaced the need for face-to-face tutorials,” in part because Enders triples the standard f2f tutorial time (30-40 minutes) to an approximately two-hour consultation for effective interactions (2000, p. 15; 2001, p. 15). Like Enders, Lee-Ann M. Kastman Breuch and Sam J. Racine (2000) find that a chat-style synchronous tutorial can be: “an area we believe holds enormous potential” where “sound pedagogy not only is possible,” but also sustainable where tutors are appropriately trained (245). Yet, their average tutorial time is ninety-four minutes (246), an indication that they, too, may be using the online space to mimic the f2f tutorial, rather than seeking different ways to accommodate students in this new learning space. Similarly, Coogan’s (1999) description of sustained email tutoring with individual students may be incredibly helpful for some students, but it, too, is not scaleable for the number of students and the time that OWL consultants have available to commit to the instructional process. These lengthy tutorial times, which may make OWI unsupportable in resource-constrained institutions, reveal uncritical applications of f2f practice to online learning that may limit the development both of OWI practice and a research agenda.
Politics Clouding Efficacy
The second example of problematic thinking that practice-based research might address concerns politics, a multi-faceted term. Often, discussions about online learning focus on the "politics" of OWI rather than its distinctive nature and potential efficacy. Although addressing political issues is crucial to developing successful OWI, I argue that the politics of OWI should be considered separately. Indeed, rigorously exploring the distinctions and efficacy of OWI should allow us to assess and address political issues more helpfully in the long run. It is in this area, as well, that lore and untested theory can yield fruitfully to a practice-based research agenda.
Political issues arise in various forms. One form concerns providing accessible instruction to all students, including those who have been marginalized historically. An example is a tendency to dismiss OWI technology as another means of disenfranchising already marginalized students—usually because online learning cannot imitate a f2f instructional session, a problem of inappropriate comparisons discussed above. Ellen Mohr (2000) asks, "Does technology open doors or close them even more to the disenfranchised?" (6). Her question is a valid one; it is one, however, that is premature because addressing it requires further investigation before hazarding an answer that could close doors to the funding of research and practice into OWI. Mohr answers her own question with a comparison between the traditional and the online writing center:
Furthermore, online tutoring cannot address the issue of diversity in learning styles, multiple intelligence, or cultural background. In the physical writing center these issues are easily addressed as we choose examples relevant to the writing situation and the student. When teachers or tutors can recognize the diverse learning styles of their students, they can adjust their instruction to best fit those needs. Again, the one-dimensional aspect of the online tutoring session prevents that spontaneity and adaptability from happening. (6)
By directly comparing the online to the f2f learning environment, Mohr assumes that f2f writing instruction has sufficiently addressed the issue of diverse learning styles. Her argument fails to consider the potential that the online tutorial, particularly the synchronous modality, has for helping students with their self-disclosed and/or personally understood learning style differences. Nor does she reflect on how teacher/tutors can and should research how learning styles manifest themselves in an online environment. Interestingly, Mohr concludes that we must continue to consider online tutoring. Yet, in doing so, she affirms the normative view that f2f writing instruction successfully has addressed the problems she raises and that technological innovations must measure up to that norm: "And, that's the point of my reflections and unanswered questions; we must continue to talk…stay open-minded to the possibilities but skeptical of replacing something we know works—the face-to-face writing conference" (7).
In a newly published volume about the politics of writing centers, which essentially is the politics of individualized writing instruction, Shamoon and Burns (2001; see also Simpson and Maid, 2001) caution their readers about the hazards of valorizing marginalization—in this case, the marginalization of writing center professionals by their own behaviors and attitudes:
Indeed, there seems to be an ethos of rugged individualism celebrated by many writing centers, seeing the facility as the last bastion of independence in an institution that otherwise pressures for conformity, and maintaining that the marginalized position offers tutors and tutees a space for a special kind of work and critical vision. (52)
They construct their argument on ways to address what they call a “harmful complicity” between the institution and the profession. One of the ways in which this complicity exists, they state, is in the standardization of instruction and the “narrowly predictable aspects of writing that will be covered,” which they call “generalist tutoring.” Such a “Fordist” approach limits how individualized instruction is constructed both by the institution and within the writing center’s purview (65-6). Shamoon and Burns make an important point about how “an ideological adherence to one kind of tutoring plays a major role in this complicity” that “reduce[s], limit[s], and standardized[s] writing center work (70).
I hope that I am not stretching their argument too far to add that an ideological adherence to any kind of writing instruction may be a part of this valorized self-marginalization. In a very real way, it is possible to be "boxed in" by one’s thinking and adherence to certain normative theoretical constructs, such as Social Constructivism, just when professionals need most to "think outside the box" to accommodate the rapidly changing world of technology and writing. If so, then such normative thinking is, in itself, a political act that may be limiting necessary practice-based research into online instructional media.
Another type of political issue involves the nuts and bolts of program development, administration, and funding. Sometimes, it is the very act of negotiating politics successfully that enables reasonable writing instruction, both f2f and OWI, by funding the physical/virtual spaces, salaries, and other necessary resources. Politics cannot help but become an issue when scarce resources are necessary to explore online learning meaningfully. Skilled practitioners and researchers, ample time, and sufficient funds all are vital to conduct carefully constructed research that will yield new views of practice and develop new theories. Yet, it is possible to let political views get in the way of more primary questions about OWI: What makes it distinctive and does it work?
Although political agendas are unavoidable in any bureaucracy where departments must compete for funding by demonstrating their value, it is in this arena that the issue of problematic thinking about f2f theories and practices and the uncritical application of those f2f theories to the distinctly different online environment combine to cloud perceptions about OWI. This failure to challenge assumptions may cause people simply to condemn OWI because there are unanswered questions about its nature and efficacy. We return, then, full circle to the problem of untested theory and to the unanswered questions about f2f and OWI outlined above.
For example, the literature reveals a distinct distrust of those who do not currently work in writing instruction and a need to protect territory that has been carved out with difficulty. Such territory appears, to some like Harris (2000), to need protection from “bean counters” in “swivel chairs” who might make decisions for online tutoring and teaching and whether the services will be provided either internally by members of the immediate academic community or commercially by private, for-profit businesses that will free up campus real estate and other resources (17-8). To Harris, such decisions appear to be the epitome of shortsightedness and lack of understanding on the part of higher education administrators about the value of traditional campus-based writing centers, which provide f2f instruction. Hers is not a singular experience. A decade earlier, Elizabeth Sommers (1992) describes similar concerns regarding computer-based classrooms and writing centers that stem from unknowing administrators within, as well as beyond, the bounds of the English department (45-6).
While these are legitimate concerns in many institutional contexts (Carino, 2001; Haviland, et al, 2001; Murphy and Law, 2001), the discussion may be premature—or at least it should take place within the context of research supportive of a self-protective need. It is impossible to debate fully, realistically, and persuasively the implications of online learning and how it should be supplied when we have yet to identify the distinctive nature of OWI and learning, how it differs from f2f writing instruction and learning, and whether it is efficacious. Without developing appropriate practice-based empirical research that enables responsible theorizing about OWI, we will not answer these questions and we will not be prepared adequately for the important debates that will determine how educational services meet 21st century students’ needs and demands.
Arguing politics even more broadly, Cynthia Selfe (1999) leaves us with no doubt of the extremely political nature of OWI. She believes that 21st century English and composition teachers must pay attention both to the links between technology and literacy education, and to helping fellow educators and Americans use technology for positive social change (xxii-xxiii). I think that her argument is an important one, a call to action for our responsible uses of technology and, implicitly, for learning to understand OWI better if we are to educate others in its ideological and social roles in our society. She faults us for leaving the tough issues of OWI to individual instructors or professionals with some facility or interest in technology, instead urging us all to take responsibility for OWI and the complications of technology in literacy study (22). She faults even those of us who are enthusiastic in endorsing or using computers in the classroom, yet who fail to teach others, especially our students, about the political issues infused in technology use (23). If we heed her call, then we must teach each other about OWI so that we can responsibly assist our students and fellow citizens.
Implications for Future Work
I have argued here that we need adopt a theory-generating stance toward OWI. Others agree. Cynthia Haynes and Jan Rune Holmevik (1998), for example, note that research lags behind pedagogy and that we must “do our homework” regarding educational MOOs (7); what they say of MOOs can be applied to OWI overall. Such early-stage theorizing as demonstrated in the examples below should be tested by empirical researched practice into OWI. On-going research and development is necessary to fulfill whatever promise OWI holds (Blythe and Harris, 1998).
Thomas Barker and Fred Kemp (1990) offer a “network theory” for CMC that highlight certain values in “textualizing” the classroom; they theorize that students who communicate entirely in writing will improve their writing and that students who read other students’ imperfect prose can learn to think more critically about their own imperfect prose. Theirs is an engaging theory, one that I have found attractive in its sensible nature; unfortunately, it remains untapped and untested by systematic practice-based research and, thus, loses practical value.
Joel English’s (2000) work offers an implicit suggestion that play might be an important part of one’s orientation to online instruction. Jane Love (2000) suggests that disruptive behaviors might need to be accounted for pedagogically, if not theoretically, in OWI. Coogan (1999) suggests that generative dissensus will assist students in developing a dialogic literacy that is not based on a preconceived functional literacy often taught in f2f tutorials. Sherry Turkle (1998) describes MOO interactions as highly psychosocial in their communicative capabilities and tendencies to draw out self-reflective and self-searching practices. For Beth Kolko (1998), synchronous interactions through MOOs allow one to textualize one’s self and is a political self-presentation, a sort of “autoethnography” (254). These, also, are lore and scholarship-based suggestions that practice-based empirical research could explore usefully.
Drawing on the work from such fields as education, communication studies, and technology, we find other helpful examples of theorizing that invites research. At the programmatic level, James Inman (2000) applies Everett Rogers’ diffusion theory, from the field of education, to propose redefining the intercommunication between educators and technologists "as communicative encounters among stakeholders and between stakeholders and possible clients and/or contributors” (54). Jay David Bolter (2001) follows up his earlier work into hypertext theory with his developing thinking. In his hypertextual introduction to OWLs, Stuart Blythe (1999) leads readers to instrumental, substantive, and critical theories of technology. Of course, many others explore instructional technology, some making connections to cognitive theory (see, for example, Goodman, 2002; Wood and Smith, 2001; Lajoie, 2000; and Jonassen and Land, 2000).
What seems so helpful about all of these ideas is that they demonstrate creative thinking. They show us that we can become change agents to identify and challenge our own assumptions, and to develop researched practices with theory-generating potential. To do so, however, we must not limit ourselves to normative views. We should keep innovative thinking in the forefront and then test that thinking systematically as we redefine or broaden theory to address the practical, new, and very exciting challenges of OWI. As I proposed in the Introduction to this webtext, change lies in engaging in a cycle of practice-based research, analysis, synthesis, discussion, and theorizing. We need to criticize the practices and theories of writing instruction that occur both on- and offline. As we think, learn, and both adjust practice to address technology and technology to address practice, I believe that our focused efforts will lead to a clearer vision and to a more useful theory of online instruction.
To add substance beyond mere critique in this webtext, I offer two exploratory nodes that demonstrate the kinds of questions that can lead to the types of practice-based research I am suggesting.