Next fall I will start teaching a first-year composition class at the University of Minnesota.  I’ve done some private tutoring and substitute teaching before, and I’ve taught English in Thailand, but this will be the first time that I’ll be teaching a class that is somewhat regulated by the university, that involves people close to my age, and that I will do again and again during my years in Minneapolis.  So right now I’m trying to work up a game plan.

Unlike teaching English in Thailand, I will most likely see some of myself in the people who show up on that first day of class.  I’ll remember the joys and frustrations of my required composition class, which I took at the University of Kentucky, and my teaching will probably be shaped by these memories.  Some students will bring concerns that resemble the ones that I had four years ago, concerns regarding the purpose of the class, how the class will benefit me, and how I can succeed in the class.  Unlike most college classes, the media doesn’t give students many images of what the first year comp class is all about.  Maybe this course doesn’t make for good television drama.  Instead of coming to class with a strong idea (for better or worse) of what this class is all about—an idea that can be worked against or worked with—students like myself often come to class with an immensely complex and personal understanding of what writers do or an immensely complex and personal lack of understanding of what writers do.

This benevolent confusion is reflective of the academic study of composition, which has continually undergone changes.  Most scholars who I’ve read or talked to agree that writing is almost any sort of thoughtful expression of ideas, from webpages and blogs to graffiti and textbooks.  Although I might not be able to answer students’ questions of what is good writing, I hope to give them a loose model, or metaphor, for how we as a class are going to go about discussing what good writing is and how people do good writing.

Educators have always tried to articulate metaphors for their classes—metaphors that attempt to govern the way the class runs, the way the class’s participants interact, and the way knowledge is created in the classroom.  Some educators rely on the Burkean Parlor metaphor, some use models that come from the business world, some attempt to establish some sort of parliamentary system.  I’m thinking about using hip hop as a model/metaphor for my classroom.  Here are some of the untested reasons why:

1. Hip Hop creates more inclusive discussions — Some students feel forced out of classroom conversations when they come to the conclusion that the way they speak, the body movements they make, or the emotion with which they get their points across are all “inappropriate” in a college classroom.  Hip Hop not only accepts a variety of communicative behavoirs but more importantly sees them as integral to expression.  Instead of secretly banning what may be perceived as impolite discourse, we need to bring all forms of communicating ideas into the discussion.
2. The Cipher is a powerful sub-metaphor for classroom discussion:  When hip hoppers form a cipher, they not only encourage and expect everyone to join and participate in the cipher, but they also encourage everyone in the cipher to connect their personal experiences with the society that surrounds them, sometimes called “the street.”  The cipher is a community in which participants express themselves by building on the ideas (or raps) of others while they inject their own opinoins, perspectives, and style.  The Cihper promotes a collage rather than a linear development of the day’s topic or idea; topics or big ideas emerge rather than prescribed
3. The Instructor as DJ undercuts traditional notions of the teacher/student power relationship — As a DJ, the instructor may speed up the beat or flow of a discussion and sample from conversations, books, and ideas that he brings with her, she is not a lecturer and cannot operate without the many MCs in the cipher.
4. Hip Hop is multimodal and nonlinear — Hip Hop involves visual art, cut and paste asthetics, juxtaposition, and performative art, all of which are important to comtemporary forms of rhetoric and composition
5. The presence of Hip Hop in universities immediately challenges ideas of what belongs and doesn’t belong in college curriculums, and encourages students to generate challenges of their own

There are more reasons, but I think that’s enough for today.  What do you think?  Is this just a novel and unproductive spin on contemporary pedagogical theories?  Do students what to be involved in a class that operates on the principles of hip hop?  These are questions that I’ll be thinking about.