By Daniel Gomes
Though the majority of students we consult arrive with full drafts in hand, occasionally we help students work through brainstorming. I doubt I’m the only one who enjoys these sessions: unmediated by a block of text, they often allow for more flexibility and risk-taking as students have yet to be concerned about “losing work” as a result of recursively changing some of their ideas and making substantial revisions.
That being said, these sessions invite their own complications. Understandably, students are anxious to leave with a clear sense of their topic and thesis, and they can become frustrated when the pre-writing process only yields (as it necessarily does) provisional results; likewise, the consultant feels a need to provide structured engagement that brings students closer to the writing stage while guarding against generating all the ideas for students. (“I’m not saying you should write on that. I was just offering an example…”).
What further complicates the matter is a somewhat misplaced sense of the brainstorming process. The notion of “brainstorming,” which conjures up images of lightning bolts flashing across crackling synapses, has always been something of a misnomer, not least because it presents pre-writing as entailing being struck by the right idea. But one strategy I have increasingly applied in my sessions is shifting the focus of pre-writing from “What is a good idea that I can come up with to write about?” to “Why are you gravitating toward these ideas or concepts, however unformed they may be?”; from “What do you want to say in this paper?” to “What do you want to find out?”; and from “Will I have enough to say?” to “What is worth saying and what has yet to be said?”
Of course, shifting the conversation from electrostatic revelation, with its promise of immediate comprehension, to one of self-reflexive inquiry is no easy task. With that challenge in mind, I’ve recently tried two different brainstorming activities that put more emphasis on metacognition:
- Brainstorm through a textual passage. Oftentimes, students need help with a literary analysis or comparative essay assignment that requires them to do close-reading. I’ve found that organizing a free-writing session around a specific passage, negotiated with the student in advance, helps not only to keep ideas focused, but also leaves more room for ambiguity when interpreting language (rather than trying to “solve” the text from the outset). When doing this exercise, I like to ask: Why did you choose this passage over others? You are interpreting this passage this way…how might others interpret it? If you wanted to explore these ideas more, what other passages would you select?
- Reverse the audience. I find this activity works well with persuasive writing, in which a sensitivity to audience is a central part of the assignment. For instance, we frequently encounter the business memo. Instinctually, students imagine how they would appeal to a CEO; but it can sometimes help to have students brainstorm through the perspective of the CEO instead. How would I want my employee to address me in this letter? What concerns would I have about a proposal? How would I prefer information to be organized? I’ve found this exercise also works well when brainstorming ideas for a study-abroad or fellowship application. Imagine you are on the committee. What three points would you like to see each candidate make? Alternately, what would surprise you and make a candidate stand out?
Beyond the approaches I’ve listed above, there are also a number of useful exercises I’ve tried out (cubing, journalistic questions, using similes etc.) included on UNC Chapel Hill’s Writing Center page. Of course, if all else fails we can always introduce the tried-and-true method we acquire in graduate school: pacing around our apartments and tugging our hair.
Published May 1, 2017
