The Tutoring Book - California State University, Sacramento

grapple with academic concepts, using informal language that is comfortable to us and defining terms in
ways that we can understand.
Other theorists have different names for this hybrid space that we’ve begun to define. Gloria
Anzaldua, for example, calls this between-space a “borderland,” introducing the identity of the mestiza as
the embodiment of a hybrid or mixed identity. We don’t really need to worry too much about wrapping
our heads around these theoretical descriptions of Third Space, however, because we tutor at an actual
place that embodies these theories in a practical, observable way.
So, how can we actively make the Writing Center a bridge or a borderland—an effective place in
which writers with different backgrounds and discourses can communicate?
First, I think we need to make clear, as Bawarshi and Pelkowski express, that academic discourse
it not the be all and end all of writing. Academic discourse is not better, higher, or more laudable than
other discourses; it just is the type of discourse we are required to use in academic contexts. It is
important to suggest to students that “good” writing is situational—it depends upon the rhetorical context
in which it is written.
We can then pose the question, “Ok, if this is the academic standard, who sets the standard?” For
example, students may wonder why we cite sources in a certain way for MLA formatting and why the
formatting requirements change so frequently. They may wonder why we use commas in compound
sentences and not in simple complex sentences (even if they don’t have the language to identify the
sentence structures as such). I have explained to students that grammar rules are not mystical things that
exist out there in the ether. In fact, they are decided upon by a group of people who have the power to set
the standards. There are exceptions to grammar rules, and rules change. In explaining this, we are helping
to demystify academic writing, and we’re beginning to help students critically analyze the university and
their roles in it.
I have another example from my own experience of how we can create an effective contact zone
in our tutoring sessions. I recently had a new nursing student who was frustrated because she was
struggling with her writing assignments in the nursing program. She explained, “I always got positive
feedback on writing before, but now I’m getting low grades. My teacher says I’m not structuring my
papers in the right way, and I’m using words wrong.” I tried to encourage her to not be so hard on herself.
I said,
“You’re entering in a new discourse community, in which ways of writing and communicating
are different, right?” I gave a quick explanation of what I meant by discourse community.
“Yeah,” she replied thoughtfully. “Yes, I guess I am. I feel like I’m learning a new language.”
“Yeah! You are,” I said. “So, sometimes when you’re pushing yourself to reach a new level in
your writing, or to write a new way, things get harder before they get easier, and we find ourselves
making more mistakes. But that’s totally ok! It’s shows that you’re pushing yourself and you’re
growing.”
She nodded, and I sensed a mutual understanding. I felt like this was a successful tutoring moment. As
Bawarshi and Pelkowski put it, “Critical consciousness encourages students to be aware of how and why
academic discourses situate them within certain power relationships and require of them particular subject
positions. The goal of such critical pedagogy is not to subvert academic discourse or to suggest that
students reject it, but to teach them to consciously use it” (83). I believe that’s what we were doing at this
moment. We were thinking about this student’s position in a new academic discourse community. The
key, I think, to applying postcolonial theory to the writing center is to help students gain critical selfawareness
of themselves as writers, thinkers, and members of the university.
Work Cited
Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. London, Routledge, 1994.
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