Writing With a Point—Part 1: Calculating Introductions

Have you noticed how a lot of humanities’ teachers scoff at the attention given to STEM (science, technology, engineering & mathematics) learning. Subtending the snark is the worry that STEM support will come at the expense of the liberal arts education we provide. While there may be some truth to this at the institutional funding level, I don’t think we should feel threatened in the classroom.

As far as I’m concerned, STEM education is not the enemy, it’s one of our best allies. In my experience, students with STEM backgrounds have an easier time at transitioning from descriptive writing to critical writing. Their theses are clearer; their questions, more profound; their topics, beautifully honed.

The difference lies in the logic undergirding the scientific method. STEM students hold that a good topic is a defined topic. They presume that a good question is an answerable question. And they maintain that a good thesis is a valid thesis. Once they perceive how all three are functions of each other, they can calculate introductions with this in mind.

Ace writers will develop main ideas in the body paragraphs, but they know that introductions are for getting right to the point. Introductions act as a blueprint for building an argument and give the reader a schematic for seeing how the argument is supposed to work. Isn’t this the clarity we are after in the humanities?

The question is how to get our students to write this way. In my view, we have to bury the disciplinary hatchet.

The Get to the Point Introduction Model is my attempt to stem the tide of illiteracy. By using numeracy-related principles, I give students a formula for making sense of their own theses. The video below will give you a sense of how I teach the model.

The pedagogy behind the Get to the Point Introduction Model is built on three metacognitive activities that I want students to practice—defining one’s terms, working the problem, simplifying the solution.

Defining One’s Terms

Introductions delimit the scope of inquiry for writers and readers alike. They commence with a topic, the common denominator around which all subsequent words will relate. Then a research question is posed, where some issue (usually embedded in a course heading or theory) is juxtaposed with the aforementioned topic. Lastly, a thesis statement is offered in reply. This researched answer relates the topic and issue in light of information known by the author.

So what’s the problem? There isn’t one if your students can immediately name their papers’ topic, issue, and summarize what they know about the two’s relationship. And as a teacher, you’re sitting pretty if you can quickly find these items in their introductions.

But let’s say you do have a problem. What do you do?

Work the Problem

Revising introductions can be a daunting task, but the Get to the Point Introduction model reveals that there are only so many errors standing between this draft and a better draft. On a strictly functional scale, I find introductions often suffer from either a thematic or sequential problem.

A thematic problem is where the topic or issue changes as the introduction progresses. This is written by adherents of the “Wait, What is the Point of This Introduction?” Model. Recall from the video that a Get to the Point Introduction is about the relationship between a topic and an issue:

 

This means that the issue in the research question should be the same issue addressed in the thesis statement, just as the topic should be consistent in both.

A sequential problem is when the topic, research question, and thesis statement aren’t presented in that order. These introductions follow the “Wait, Now I Get the Point Model.” Truth be told, good readers can usually reconfigure the parts of an argument for themselves, but why should they have to?

Good writers lead readers from the topic…to the question about that topic…to an answer about that question about that topic. When writers lock in on the sequence and themes in their introductions, readers will detect a symmetry to the argument.

Simplifying the Solution

Symmetry is a good thing, and it can be shown in the most prosaic writing. The best introductions, however, are seamless in their transitions between the topic, research question, and thesis statement.

Like a good mathematical proof, there’s an elegance to pointed introductions. The research question and thesis statement are never so complex that they obscure the issue. The discussion is neither so broad as to warrant suspicion, nor so narrow as to stymie interest. Simply put, the point of an introduction can be reduced to convincing the reader to take an invest in that topic.

Does your syntax and diction help readers reduce your introduction to this?

Practice Makes Perfect

My family boasts an astounding number of math teachers, so over the years I’ve become privy (albeit, tardily) to a eureka moment in math education—a move away from drilling and toward sense-making. It’s the realization that illnumeracy is not going to be solved by simply doing more problems. Students need to develop a number sense, an understanding of the relationships between mathematical expression.

Similarly, illiteracy will not go away just because we assign more reading and writing. We have to teach how to read and write better. In my next two posts, I will share how the annotated bibliography and the literature review can help your students get to the point of introducing good arguments. In the meantime, the Seminarium community and I look forward to interacting with you in the comments section below.

Photo Credit: “Please, Do Not Poke the Bison” by Matt Reinbold  – CC by 2.0

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