Eliminating Logic and Rhetoric Was a Mistake
To the Editor:
When I came to Columbia as a General Studies first-year, returning after a 22-year pause, I was already a published poet. I soon found, however, that I had much to learn about the particulars of academic writing. I "made my bones" in Logic and Rhetoric last term. I was fortunate to have had a dedicated instructor, who kept relentlessly correcting and handing back work which was simply not yet up to par. As a result, I respect and value the words I choose to put on paper. Moreover, the "old-style L & R" course has helped me build a foundation of solid skills, so that today I can approach any class writing assignment (regardless of subject) with confidence.
In L & R, I learned to create and present a basic thesis, hone, polish and edit sentences, cite, argue and persuade. How did I do this? By writing. Day in, week out. All term long.
So I am astonished and saddened at the decision to deep-six most of L & R's prior course format ("New Course Demands More Writing Than L&R," Sept. 18, 2003), which I know from experience should be the bedrock of all incoming Columbians' primary instruction. There is just one way to learn to write--by writing! By re-writing. And then by writing some more. The notion that one picks up writing skill by reading is ludicrous. Yes, I will agree that reading is important, but isn't that the province of literary criticism? And reading about writing doesn't make you a writer anymore than sitting in a garage makes you a car.
While students in the new University Writing course may in the end be better read, I suspect they will not be better writers. Readers read. Writers write. Period.
Cindy Hawkins
SGS '08
Sept 20, 2003
The Other Side of High School Sweethearts
To the Editor:
I was intrigued by the article "Flushing the First-Yeah Sweetheart" (Sept. 17, 2003). The article unfairly bullied around those few freshmen who, to begin with, are often criticized by their peers for trying to maintain a relationship with their high school sweetheart. Although I have no problem with respecting the author's opinion, I have a different theory to offer.
Your first few months as a college freshman are undeniably slightly traumatizing. Just a few months ago, you were on top of the world -- you were a senior, a high-school senior that is. You had waited three long years for the day to arrive when you would no longer have to worry about looking cool in front of those other seniors. You felt more confident, more relaxed, and that's when you meet your significant other.
Come September, you find yourself in front of the two gates on Broadway and 116th. You are excited. You are scared. You are a freshman. Just like Sisyphus, you had almost finished rolling that rock up the mountain and suddenly you are back to step one. This so-called high-school sweetheart phenomenon is not really a phenomenon. It is just a group of teenagers who refuse to let go of people they care about. It is a group of teenagers who are willing to at least attempt celibacy in an environment of raging drunkenness and sexuality (gasp!). So what if one finds comfort in knowing that there is someone out there whom they can call late at night and just talk about how their day went?
Of course, there are some cases where that long distance relationship is taken a little seriously, leaving both people frustrated, confused, and at times anti-social. But I cannot help but admire some of those students who, knowing that the odds are against them, try to maintain some sort of a connection with the person they spent a summer, a year, and perhaps even more, with.
So for all you freshman out there who are still holding on to your high-school sweethearts, do your thing (just don't let it be the only thing you do freshman year.) For all you freshmen out there who are single and hopefully loving it, have fun (and give the "take" freshmen a break.) And finally, to the entire class of 2007, welcome to college, welcome to NYC. It will be a fun ride.
Elena Lagoutova
BC '07
Sept. 18, 2003