Removing Ambiguity

They Say/I Say is really getting good. The chapter on honoring your own voice –– and not getting trapped in the thinking that one must use academic jargon in order to make one’s point –– put a smile on my face. I mean, if it’s the intention of the academic world to open its doors to a more diverse population, then encouraging people to appreciate their own way of speaking is imperative. Also, reminding us all that we have a right to say what comes naturally in order to help get our point across is timely, I think, after reading some of the stifling, overly done essays I’ve been assigned lately. I can’t tell you how often I’ve looked to the ceiling shaking my head while wishing the authors of certain texts would just write in a more straightforward manner, and I’ve also wondered if those same authors choose to write ambiguously just because they know that if they used down–to–earth language, no one would buy what they’re selling. Which is another reason to state things plainly… we have no place to hide that way, and I think readers appreciate that. I know I do.

The best essay I’ve read recently was the condensed, reworking of a conference speech. I didn’t find this out until after I’d read the essay. But, after thinking about it, I’m convinced that the author, Robert Connors, delivered the speech in a natural style because I remember how his essay came at me like a breath of fresh air after plowing through several dry, heady, confusing texts. His paper, for me, stood out as one that had ethos, pathos, and logos in such a wonderful combination that it shined. I loved his humor, I believed his logic, and the unassuming quality of his writing made it easy to trust him. I honestly did see him as a person using relatively down–to–earth language to get his point across rather than one who uses the kind of stiff academic language that oftentimes just gets in the way. The obvious reason Connor’s essay was such a joy to read is that the author wrote in his own voice, for the most part, and not in the voice of a highly trained academic writer. His position on the subject at hand, which he barely hinted at throughout the essay, became clear only at the end, but that was by design. Even though I disagreed with him, I remember thinking that his was the most memorable essay I’d read… and for me, as a sample of clean writing, it may remain the most memorable from that course. And it’s all because this author, who knew full–well how to write in high form academically, honored his own voice and spoke naturally.

I thought the authors of They Say/I Say would have to go some in order to top that chapter and they did with the chapter on “metacommentary.” The first paragraph under the heading “Use Metacommentary To Clarify And Elaborate” is one I’m thinking of copying, blowing up, and hanging on the wall somewhere. I’m also thinking of doing the same with some of the “passages” inserted by the authors of They Say/I Say. I loved the way these passages from other writers were used to drive home certain concepts, and even though this may be off the subject of writing lessons, as far as I’m concerned, those passages have been acting as meta–messages throughout the book, and of course, I love them because I agree with them. For instance, I couldn’t agree more with the statements, “the content of much of our public discourse has become dangerous nonsense” (126), and “show business has created…a destructive form of public discourse” (127). These lines come from only two of many poignant “passages” peppered throughout this book to illustrate writing lessons, and I believe these excerpts are worth reading just for the sake of contemplation. But for writing lessons, these two chapters have been the most encouraging for me because they not only suggest that we all remember our right to say what we mean in our own language, but also that, in order to write with more clarity, we should not be afraid to delve deeper into what we are thinking. This is turning out to be a great book.