This article explores how contemplative writing pedagogy that integrates the practice of mindfulness, or moment-to-moment attention, into writing instruction can help students consciously and adeptly deploy their attention and construct a more responsible ethos. Mindful writers develop awareness of their own and others’ materiality and become more reflective digital citizens.

This article discusses the pedagogical opportunities for collaboration between university libraries and teaching faculty, something particularly relevant in the current university climate, when many units are being asked to “do more with less” and to justify the value of humanistic inquiry. The authors propose that digital curation projects are especially conducive to pedagogical experimentation in English departments, as they need not require huge investments of institutional resources. Moreover, the article provides a literature review and detailed case study for how to involve students in curating digital exhibits using library special collections, to explore the role of literary and popular texts in social change. Such projects offer student opportunities to understand cultural history in more complex ways, to develop the ability to collaborate effectively, to “do” interpretation rather than just learn about it, to think through information architecture, and to communicate to broader audiences.

Though enrollment of learning-disability (LD) students is on the rise in higher education, instructors are often underprepared to effectively support them. The composition pedagogy community needs more discussion of strategies to help LD students in the writing classroom. Scholarship on writing tutoring suggests that one such strategy is to exhibit active and intentional empathy. Tutoring pedagogy has long advocated approaching students with compassion through strategies such as empathic listening and interrogative, coparticipatory dialogue. To best serve all of our students, particularly those with learning disabilities or attention deficit disorders or who are on the autism spectrum, composition instructors should look to tutoring pedagogy’s model of a nonhierarchical, interrogatory, listening-based approach to working with students. These strategies begin with empathy for our students.

Teaching the graphic novel in English and literature courses can be a challenge, because some of the most commonly used techniques for analyzing literature are not entirely compatible with the analysis of a multimodal form like comics. Additionally, the traditional classroom can be a problematic context for the graphic novel, especially in large lecture spaces, with their unimodal, instructor-centered design. The experience of teaching graphic novels in an active learning classroom suggests that a multimodal approach placed in a learning space designed for multimodal approaches can enhance and improve the experience of teaching the graphic novel in undergraduate courses.

Not long ago, prominent figures in English studies found scholarship on teaching literature underwhelming—especially compared to scholarship on teaching writing. This essay's analysis of citations in recent articles documents that scholarship on teaching literature has since developed into a genuine scholarly conversation. However, considerable room for further development remains.

This article is the third in a series that represents the author's multiple phases of teaching Eliza Haywood's eighteenth-century story “Fantomina” in the first-year English classroom at a women's college. The article characterizes the most recent phase as epitomized by the problem of trigger warnings in the college classroom, specifically in relation to “Fantomina.” It first defines trigger warnings and explains the ongoing arguments for and against them. It then describes the author's initial confusion and ambivalence about student requests for trigger warnings. Finally, the article explains how and why the author's feelings about trigger warnings have evolved over time and how this might eventually affect her teaching.

This article addresses the absence of substantial and sustained online teaching communities of college literature professors and uses the website Pedagogy & American Literary Studies to illustrate the strategies and challenges involved in building that community. We argue that pedagogy scholarship and public, online work needs more reverence from the literature field.

This article provides a critical narrative of a flipped professional development program for experienced graduate teaching associates teaching a second-year writing course. We use a narrative approach to demonstrate that decisions about how and what to flip in a professional development program are intimately linked to the local exigencies—material, cultural, and pedagogical—that constitute administrative, teaching, and learning contexts. Furthermore, we theorize that our decision to flip professional development aligns with feminist ethics of power distribution and collaboration, raises questions about how this also changes the visibility of faculty's administrative labor, and may contribute to misperceptions about the intellectual work and expertise required for service and writing program administration. We close by proposing design as a critical and defining feature of WPA work.

This article dwells on the “I” who arrives in the university classroom by offering an earnest assessment of the vulnerabilities that one teacher-scholar of African American literature and culture brings with her into the classroom. Observations unfold by way of a critical, reflexive engagement with theories of haunting and Toni Morrison's novel Beloved, in order to account for some of the roots and routes, histories and inheritances, that call this I into being.

Despite increased enrollments of multilingual students at US colleges and universities, many composition faculty lack specialized training to support second language writers. This article offers a framework through which faculty and administrators can begin developing knowledge about applied linguistics that is relevant to the teaching of multilingual writers.

Students entering an introductory survey course on African American literature have uneven background knowledge on the history of slavery in the United States. Given this, one of the key challenges in teaching the slave narrative is helping students appreciate the rhetorical intervention that these narratives made in antebellum debates about the slaves’ humanity. To highlight the urgency of these humanizing claims, it is necessary for students to understand how slaveholders viewed their property. This article describes how I use eighteenth- and nineteenth-century wanted advertisements for runaway slaves to frame classroom discussions about the slave narrative. This lesson enhances skills of careful observation, critical questioning, writing to discover, and comparative analysis as it deepens students’ knowledge of African American literature.

This essay argues that teaching Landon’s poems in the context of their original volume publication allows for greater understanding of the ways in which all Romantic-era poets deploy multiple voices in their collected works. It focuses upon strategies for teaching Landon’s Venetian Bracelet (1829) but offers a model for student engagement with Romantic poetry more generally.

This essay offers strategies for teaching two of Landon’s poems, “Age and Youth” and “The Thessalian Fountain,” alongside two frequently taught poems by Wordsworth, the “Intimations” ode and “Nutting.” Such a comparative approach makes the work of both poets accessible to students while addressing Landon’s place in the Romantic canon.

Based on teacher research conducted in an ethnography course in a writing studies department, this ethnographic case study demonstrates the pedagogical benefits of institutional review board–approved, collaborative student research projects. Implementing an experiential learning approach to teaching undergraduate research also revealed that students’ perceptions of what counts as “real” research are more complex than previous studies have indicated.

The introduction explores some of the reasons that teaching Landon’s poetry has historically posed difficulties for scholars seeking to present Landon to students and shows how these very difficulties can help teachers confront myriad interesting questions in the classroom, including periodicity, the recovery of women’s writing, affect, narratives of influence, lyricism, and such topics as globalism, through five innovative approaches to her work.

Teaching Letitia Landon in the context of British Romanticism allows us to present her as a central figure within studies of form and content, particularly in how she negotiates national and international cultural and poetic contexts. This essay explores how her work enlarges our understanding of place and identity.

Multimajor professional writing courses are becoming extremely common in English departments, which presents specific challenges for curricular design because of the diversity of the majors and professional goals of students. This article describes the theoretical, programmatic, and curricular details of a multimajor professional writing course. We argue that the design of a course that places a central focus on writing theory and writing knowledge can encourage learning transfer. Such an approach helps to overcome the challenges of a multimajor course by allowing the study of a common subject among students hoping to enter a number of different professions after college. Our design leans heavily on concrete knowledge domains—genre knowledge, social knowledge, procedural knowledge—and their application to specific disciplinary or professional contexts. The article’s discussion of course assignments and contexts demonstrates how these domains are applied and provides detailed information on our experiences teaching the course.

The article explores the connections between the seemingly dissimilar experiences of teaching required courses in Renaissance literature and literature by historically underrepresented authors. Both fields feature unfamiliar and challenging histories and texts. Moreover, the requirement itself, though necessary, is a constraint on autonomy that many students resent, which can impede their motivation to learn. Using research on intrinsic motivation and autonomy, we argue for giving students more opportunities to determine their own readings, assignments, and syllabi within these required classes.

This article argues that to help students join academic conversations we should look for opportunities to integrate multimedia texts into the classroom, both as artifacts to study and as models for assignments. In contrast to traditional assignments like response papers, projects that invite students to engage with texts and ideas in multiple ways—digital, oral and nonverbal, and visual, as well as through writing—can make our classrooms and academic conversations more accessible and inclusive. Often our students struggle with not what to say but how to say it in an academic register; using a more accessible and inclusive approach creates space for students to join the conversation while they are still learning the norms of academic discourse. Drawing on my experience teaching a freely accessible online adaptation of a classic novel, I emphasize that models of more inclusive and accessible ways for students to respond to course material can be found all around us. I offer teachers strategies and a rationale for integrating more digital texts, tools, and platforms into their course and assignment design.

A reading of Inferno 32, Purgatorio 31, and Paradiso 31 compares a physical and interior pilgrimage, especially in the way in which the beginning and end of an interior journey are distinguished, to illuminate the concept of love that is central to the Divine Comedy.

Inferno 15 and Paradiso 15 are particularly suitable as a selected reading for a lower-level humanities class. Comparing Brunetto Latini and Cacciaguida as father figures and contrasting the images of Florence in each episode can help students develop a more complex understanding of Dante's poetic vision and social critiques.

The military historian Yuval Noah Harari accounts for the enduring allure of war by calling attention to a change in soldiers' memoirs that occurred in the mid-eighteenth century. Soldiers began to describe how they felt rather than what they did. Harari introduces the term flesh-witnessing to distinguish inner experience from eyewitness testimony. Flesh-witnesses speak of combat as a transformative and indescribable experience comparable to the sublime. This view is often attributed to militarists, but Harari shows that it also motivates pacifists. Even antiwar arguments like those of Erich Maria Remarque are based on the authority of the flesh-witness. To test Harari's claims, I invited ROTC officers to speak to students enrolled in a course titled British Literature: The Twentieth Century about their military experience. The juxtaposition of Harari's research and the officers' comments provided a framework for teaching All Quiet on the Western Front and other texts about war. Whether war is portrayed as painful or exhilarating, degrading or ennobling, it is widely idealized as a crucible for the development of the self. This view makes war stories irresistible, whatever political views writers and readers may hold.

This essay discusses how and why one instructor uses a wiki as a space for students in a partially online American literature survey course to construct a class time line of American literature and history. Through participation in the class wiki, students are able to engage with course content in more expansive ways and to play active roles in creating course content; as such, the wiki is a space where the traditional teacher-student hierarchy is dismantled, as students and teacher collectively share the responsibilities of developing, assessing, and revising timeline content. In discussing the learning opportunities a wiki offers in a literature survey course, the author also argues that instructional technology and online tools should not be incorporated into courses merely to follow trends in digital humanities. Instead, digital and technological components should be thoughtfully integrated into humanities courses in ways that enhance and expand learning while furthering the objectives of the particular course.

Review Article| October 01 2017 Teaching What We Do in Literary Studies Digging into Literature: Strategies for Reading, Analysis, and Writing. By Wolfe, Joanna and Wilder, Laura. Boston: Bedford/St. Martins, 2016. 448 pages.Rhetorical Strategies and Genre Conventions in Literary Studies: Teaching and Writing in the Disciplines. By Wilder, Laura. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 2012. 238 pages. Paul T. Corrigan Paul T. Corrigan Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Pedagogy (2017) 17 (3): 549–556. https://doi.org/10.1215/15314200-3975671 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter Email Permissions Search Site Citation Paul T. Corrigan; Teaching What We Do in Literary Studies. Pedagogy 1 October 2017; 17 (3): 549–556. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/15314200-3975671 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search nav search search input Search input auto suggest search filter Books & JournalsAll JournalsPedagogy Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. © 2017 by Duke University Press2017 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.

This essay describes a graduate course, The Nineteenth-Century Novel in Context, that I developed and taught in fall 2011 at the Graduate Center, City University of New York. The essay was developed from an oral presentation that was part of a teaching panel at the Northeast Victorian Studies Association annual conference in the spring of 2013. The course was my final effort to “go wide” in teaching Victorian literature in its larger context, a desire that grew increasingly difficult to satisfy as the canon of Victorian literature became enlarged and thus somewhat unstable. I also wanted to organize the readings so that my students might get a sense of the literary context in which Victorian readers might have experienced the individual texts when they read them in the nineteenth century. In an effort to describe how I got to the syllabus for The Nineteenth-Century Novel in Context (included as an appendix), I give a personal sense of the history of the field of Victorian literature over the last fifty years, tracing the development of the field of English literature in general and Victorian literature in particular. I end with my evaluation of the course I developed, its strengths and its weaknesses, and what I learned from it.

Review Article| April 01 2017 The Crisis of Composition: Teaching and Resistance in the Neoliberal Era Composition in the Age of Austerity. Edited by Welch, Nancy and Scott, Tony. Utah State University Press, 2016. 235 pages. Phillip Goodwin Phillip Goodwin Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Pedagogy (2017) 17 (2): 351–358. https://doi.org/10.1215/15314200-3770245 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Permissions Search Site Citation Phillip Goodwin; The Crisis of Composition: Teaching and Resistance in the Neoliberal Era. Pedagogy 1 April 2017; 17 (2): 351–358. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/15314200-3770245 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search Books & JournalsAll JournalsPedagogy Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. © 2017 by Duke University Press2017 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal Issue Section: Reviews You do not currently have access to this content.

This essay discusses the affordances of using an affect-based approach to 9/11 discourses that facilitates teaching civic engagement. Representations and rhetoric about 9/11 are found in a range of modes—film, documentary, literature, news coverage, and official government documents. Asking students to analyze these representations using a variety of rhetorical strategies highlights the way that various sources of (competing) knowledge about the national tragedy disrupt the notion that there is an accepted, uniform way of understanding this event. Furthermore, this approach demonstrates how varied sources of meaning making construct our public sphere.

Introduction| April 01 2017 Introduction: A Roundtable on “Teaching 1874” Suzy Anger Suzy Anger Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Pedagogy (2017) 17 (2): 321–322. https://doi.org/10.1215/15314200-3770181 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Permissions Search Site Citation Suzy Anger; Introduction: A Roundtable on “Teaching 1874”. Pedagogy 1 April 2017; 17 (2): 321–322. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/15314200-3770181 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search Books & JournalsAll JournalsPedagogy Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. © 2017 by Duke University Press2017 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal Issue Section: From the Classroom You do not currently have access to this content.

This article applies the idea of pivoting to teaching British history and cultural studies, both by focusing on a pivotal year's watershed events and by artfully telling a before-and-after story about a less noteworthy event. My teaching tool in this case was the year 1874, which was pivotal in the first sense of the word owing to Benjamin Disraeli's defeat of William Gladstone and the subsequent decline of laissez-faire and rise of imperialism. I discuss how I use that event as a pivot by referring back to the culture of voluntarism that had promoted Gladstone's popularity and to blind spots in Gladstonian liberalism that rendered him politically vulnerable in 1874. I then turn to my experience teaching a one-week unit on the British annexation of Fiji, which also occurred in 1874. In this unit I assigned some students to report on the career of the first governor of Fiji, Arthur Gordon, who governed five other British colonies before and after 1874, and I asked other students to pre sent group reports on four different perspectives on Fiji that accompanied annexation, by a company promoter, a tourist, a missionary, and an adventure novelist.

This article informs educators about the importance and challenges of teaching digital reading practices. In positioning reading as a design-oriented activity and readers as text designers, instructors can teach genre awareness as a way to help students strongly engage with and comprehend digital texts.

This essay examines the challenges and opportunities that characterize teaching literature in contemporary high schools and colleges—an educational milieu that has become increasingly dominated by standardized testing, skills assessment, and careerism.

This article explores the benefits of bringing museum education into the composition classroom to help students develop confidence and skill in oral presentation. Drawing on current scholarship in object-based learning and engaging museum audiences, it outlines a project in which students closely observed objects at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and critiqued a museum tour before presenting on their objects on-site at the museum. As well as teaching students new skills, the project also encouraged them to use their own experiences as audience members in the classroom and the museum to create more engaging and coherent presentations for their peers. The article explains the logistics of the project and students' reactions, concluding with students' own reflections on the benefits of presenting in a museum setting.

This article explores the struggle to transport an ethos of white antiracism across different racial climates within two university contexts. The author analyzes the influence that students' home rhetorics of racism and their conceptualizations about “progressive” white identity have in (de)constructing a teacher's credibility to discuss racial identity and racisms in the classroom.

This article presents a three-stage critique of the “schools approach” to teaching literary theory at the undergraduate level. First, it demonstrates the continued dominance of this approach both in teaching programs and in the textbook literature. Second, it discusses the approach's pedagogical shortcomings. Third, it presents a teaching approach better suited to encourage active theoretical reflection.

Corley argues that college faculty can more effectively instruct student veterans by renewing their commitment to widely acknowledged hallmarks of excellent instruction: welcoming all students; giving clear and direct feedback; approaching self, subjects, and students with moral seriousness; teaching with integrity; relating the subject matter to everyday concerns; and holding all students to high standards. Through classroom anecdotes and descriptions of military life, Corley demonstrates numerous points of connection between military culture and the best instructional practices described.

Through a classroom moment in a graduate course in the teaching of writing, Particelli explores ways in which pointed inquiry into genre—satire, in this case—allows for a lesson design that encourages critical exploration of culture without burdening students with essentialist discussions. Using an inquiry-based approach to genre study, the students in this classroom explore many kinds of “text”—from stand-up comedy to fiction and narrative nonfiction—with an unavoidable eye toward critical theory but without the traditional approach that pushes students to apply a “critical lens” to a text in the way that a tool might be applied to an object. Particelli argues that those often didactic approaches push students to learn a specific script for a specific situation and can even push students to experience the world polemically and thus to become less willing to see complexity of argument, power, and position. Through this classroom example where the cultural habits and expectations of genre remain at the center of conversation, Particelli hopes to spark conversation surrounding the possibilities of expanding our approaches as we develop discussions at the intersections of cultural power, social politics, literature, writing, and students' personal experience.

Based on a study of collected teaching statements, this article analyzes how compositionists use metaphors of writing and teaching to describe their pedagogical practice and philosophy. I argue that the interactive use of metaphors within teaching statements shows how a teacher's pedagogical identity is endorsed by disciplinary values.

This essay discusses the personal experiences of a US Army soldier transitioning from military life to academia, focusing on lessons of isolation learned from the author's experiences teaching foreign soldiers and then international students. These lessons can inform our approach to successful veteran integration into our classrooms and into our broader campus communities.

This article uses Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy to explore how literature instructors can use eighteenth-century novels, many of which bring attention to themselves as creations of the writing process, to encourage their students to reflect on their position as writers in the twenty-first century. Gulya proposes teaching Tristram Shandy and other self-referential texts within the context of writing studies. This approach helps our students recognize the close relationship between writing and cognition and, by so doing, brings their attention to writing as a process as well as a product. Gulya also outlines some of the major benefits of encouraging students to think about writing as a process, including more vibrant peer-revision sessions and an increase in students' tendencies to take intellectual risks in their writing.

English has a peculiar way of redefining the selves and locations of readers, especially in countries where Anglo-American texts are studied with a multicultural awareness. Ernest Hemingway's “Hills like White Elephants” creates a world elsewhere not only for the couple who travel elsewhere but also for the students who read their story in Kerala (India) when they explore the “elsewheres” they create together as a class by translating it into Malayalam. The student-translators are apt to discover that there is more to Jig's unspoken anguish and the largely unspeakable differences that surface between the two lovers. While Hemingway's lean style is understood for what infinite suggestions it evokes in English, students surprise themselves with meanings—pregnant possibilities that suggest themselves in Malayalam, and unbeknownst to English/monolingual readers. Translation, like the extremely sparse exchanges between Jig and her lover, must exercise extreme caution, however, in committing no more words than must essentially be committed. Concealing what no longer needed concealment, or was soon to be found too big for concealment anyway, is a worrisome theme here whose reflection in translation is hard to sustain unless the Malayali translators match Hemingway's superior command of language. Besides such knowledge, a translator's intertextualities are as invisible as, and perhaps much harder to share with others than, a teacher's challenges and excitement of teaching “Hills” in English in a multilingual classroom. Perhaps from such dreams begin the responsibilities of reading a story as yet unwritten in Hemingway's classic every time we read it elsewhere.

While other students were planning their moves to big universities across the nation, Micah Wright had a different post–high school plan. He wanted to join the Marine Corps. He left for boot camp in September 2002 and started a four-year life-changing experience that resulted in him earning a Combat Action Ribbon and a Purple Heart. After his active service, he decided to start another venture: college. Though his resolve had been tested many times before, attending a university, where the halls were filled with unfamiliar college students and the classes were led by professors whose teaching styles did not match his Marine Corps training, was more difficult than he anticipated, until he realized that his identity as a Marine could be a formidable force in achieving his degree.

The purpose of this article is to share how classroom incorporation of technology with feminist pedagogy in mind both elicited and constrained learning opportunities in a large, blended class setting. Technology selection, assignment revision, and changes to teaching practices are addressed. We conclude with recommendations for teachers facing similar circumstances.

Both creative writing and composition seek to teach writing, yet their pedagogical approaches are poles apart, especially concerning instructors. Creative writing instructors serve as “mentor-models,” whose authority comes from their writing practice rather than (only) departmental sanction. Despite potential pitfalls, a mentor-model approach could reaffirm composition instructors' identities as writers.

Caroline Bowles's long narrative poem Ellen Fitzarthur (1820) offers a seduction tale reminiscent of Amelia Opie's The Father and Daughter (1801), tracing the seduction of a cloistered young woman by an unscrupulous military sailor taken in by Ellen's widower father after a shipwreck. Deceived by the sailor, Ellen follows him but is abandoned, pregnant, and subsequently travels home with her infant daughter, arriving repentant and exhausted at her ancestral home after a long and difficult journey. There she discovers her recently deceased father's grave, upon which she dies in shock, leaving her daughter to be taken in by the family of a villager who turns out to be Ellen's foster brother. Pairing Bowles's poem with Opie's novel allows students to explore the roles of genre (and generic conventions) in the presentation of similar tales and to examine both the technical and the aesthetic effects and consequences of authorial choices grounded in these different literary genres.

This article addresses the teaching of Amy Levy's “Xantippe” (1880), a poem 279 lines long, in an upper-division survey of British literature from 1800 to the present focused on life stories. Though the poem is short enough to be read in a single sitting, it is also long enough to pose the pedagogical challenges common to teaching all long poems: asking students to read both closely and at length, to discern unifying tropes or themes across manifold details or narrative episodes, to engage in sufficient discussion commensurate with the long poem's complexity, and to discover the pleasures of the long poem (deep immersion, sweep of vistas, narrative propulsion, and more). Since Levy is not anthologized in most survey textbooks, the article also concerns teaching noncanonical poetry. The methods presented include prompts posing questions and explaining the work's poetic and cultural contexts, and student reading diaries listing what students found challenging and what they learned. The article thus incorporates real-time student responses, as well as discussion of teaching strategies.

“The Fairy of the Fountains” is one of Letitia Landon's most enigmatic and disturbing poems. It makes for particularly difficult reading because Landon sought in this poem to translate the forms of ballad and medieval lay into her own nineteenth-century poetic idiom. Her replication of the ellipses and abrupt transitions common to folkloric forms renders the poem both demanding and powerfully suggestive. These significant challenges to a coherent reading of the poem are magnified by its length. Based on the author's experience of teaching “The Fairy of the Fountains” in an upper-division course on gothic and supernatural literature, this article elucidates how placing it in the context of other, better-known Gothic texts significantly enhances students' appreciation of this long poem by helping to illuminate the most puzzling aspects of Landon's narrative. This approach implicitly asserts that Landon's poem is worthy to be read alongside these equally enigmatic canonical poems and also offers students two much more accessible prose versions of the Melusine legend. Through this comparative, intertextual approach, students gain a rich sense of the variations possible on an ancient folkloric motif and develop an understanding of the place of these texts in nineteenth-century literary history.

This article offers an innovative pedagogical technique for teaching students to think critically and analytically about race, especially for student populations most accurately characterized as white and middle class. I illustrate this technique by relating my experiences designing and teaching a first-year writing course called the Monstrous and the Human at the University of Delaware. The concept of monstrousness and the problem of race may at first appear unrelated, yet this is precisely the strength of the course, which relies on a method of defamiliarization. Course readings begin by exploring monstrousness in Victorian science fiction novels, such as Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, and then shift to a study of how conventions of these novels recur in novels that examine race in American society, such as Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. In combination with class discussion and course writing assignments, this reading progression invites students to see race from a new perspective. In this article I share my reasons for creating this course, detail its assignments, and show how the course can help students expand their understanding of race in American society. I argue that by teaching race through defamiliarization, we encourage students to arrive at their own understanding of race and racism without inculcating our own beliefs.

This article introduces a roundtable on teaching long poems by British women writers, presented as a special session at the 2014 Modern Language Association conference in Chicago. The articles in the roundtable provide teaching strategies that are pertinent to the writers under review but can easily be extended to many more writers and works. The resistance of students to long poems by any poet, much less by women, reveals that professors still have much work to do in establishing lesser-known women writers as coequal with their better-known male contemporaries. This resistance is a teaching opportunity to address issues of genre, gender, and canonicity. In a larger sense, the articles argue for the potential of pedagogical practice to reconstitute the canon.

This article depicts a multimodal approach to teaching Charlotte Smith's Beachy Head that has proved successful in a sophomore-level survey. As a greater romantic lyric fragment of twenty-one blank-verse paragraphs with sixty-four footnotes and two embedded rhyming poems by the “stranger” poet, Beachy Head poses many difficulties for students. Ruwe identifies student difficulties with the poem's form and content and suggests practical methods for overcoming these barriers. She provides a reading guide to the poem's various sections and suggests ways to help students experience the poem's auditory, visual, gestural, spatial, and linguistic design through a process akin to reverse engineering. The article includes student responses, handouts, and links to useful websites for a multimodal approach.

This article argues that the short-story cycle should be central to teaching American literature, because the genre crystallizes major tensions of American literary history: marginality and inclusion, the individual and the community, and the formation of a national literature from transnational and local materials.