Working as a Graduate TA by Michelle Barbeau, San Diego State

Let’s rewind to a few years ago.

I had just graduated college and had dreams of becoming a high school English teacher. But I became an editor instead. I felt too young and inexperienced to teach 18 year olds at the ripe age of 21. Funny thing is ­– I’m now 24 years old and teaching college! This is the beauty of graduate school. Most grad schools strongly encourage students to give back by teaching the freshmen in their respective discipline. Sometimes it’s just a breakout section that’s supplementary to a GE course, and sometimes it involves teaching your own course, which is what I’m currently doing.

Most TAs get paid. But don’t become too excited. It won’t pay the bills (at least not all of them). In my case, it’s just $350/month. In other cases, it’ll pay your tuition, which is like a salary in and of itself. But regardless of any monetary incentives, the experience will produce many intangibles that you can’t put a price tag on.

Here are some things I’ve learned in my two semesters of teaching freshman reading and writing:

  • The first day. The whole summer before my first semester of teaching, I had dreams and even nightmares of what would actually happen when I walked into the classroom. Could I handle it? Would I even be cut out for teaching? What if I said some cockamamie thing in class and my students caught on? The good news is that the actual teaching part of it is much easier than I thought it would be! If you are good at explaining things and have any experiencing tutoring, it will come pretty naturally. Within 10 minutes of the first day, my heart stopped beating through my shirt.
  • Start off strict. As a new teacher, you want your students to like you. In fact, you want them to love you. You don’t want to be the teacher on ratemyprofessor.com with low ratings and no chili peppers. But the fact of the matter is, you can’t manage a classroom that knows you’re easy to take advantage of. Every seasoned professor I’ve spoken with has said to come off a little serious and even stern the first few weeks, then blossom into a more nurturing, understanding figure as the semester progresses.
  • The syllabus.Think of your syllabus as a contract. Your students are bound to it. It’s better to over-explain your policies than try to simplify them. My first syllabus was five pages! Include the essentials: a course description, your office hours, an attendance policy, a statement about plagiarism, and some sort of calendar with assignment due dates clearly outlined. BTW: It’s so cool to see your own name on the class schedule and a syllabus for the first time!
  • Helpful technology. Nowadays, most schools have some sort of web-based software teachers can use to post resources, manage the grading process, and communicate with their students outside of class. Try to take advantage of this. Your classroom may also be equipped with a computer and fancy projector. Find a way to use them. I like to play YouTube videos to get a free write going or catch their attention as they enter the classroom.
  • Your title. What should they call you? Professor? Your first name? Your last name? My mentor told me you should never go by your first name; students may consider you more of a friend than an authority figure. But “professor” (although you technically are one) is just plain weird without having a PhD. I opted for a middle ground. My students call me “Ms. B.”
  • Workload. It’s hard to balance teaching with grad school classes and, in my case, a part-time job too. One way to save time is to have your students do small assignments, like free writes and quizzes, in a journal. That way you can collect their journals periodically and grade this less significant stuff in batches. Also, bring your own homework to office hours. Sadly, few students visit office hours, so you might as well make the time productive for yourself.
  • Prepare for the unexpected. Be ready for days when your lesson plan will have to be thrown out the door. Your students could forget to bring their books. They could “forget” to do the reading. The projector might not be working to show that awesome chart you worked on all weekend. Have a backup plan. I always resort to grammar lessons, because I can pull those off the top of my head.
  • Dress the part. You’re young. Go for the business casual look. I’ve seen teachers wear jeans, but you want to set yourself apart in the classroom, since your age won’t quite do it. This is especially true for women. P.S. Don’t wear a skirt above the knees!
  • Disciplining. The first time you have to get the class to stop talking and listen to you–it’s really hard! You’ll try to talk over them, but that makes it worse. Just stand in front until they notice. After a few times, it’ll become second nature (almost fun to exhibit your power). For individual behavior issues, like someone who texts in class or has excessive tardiness, it may be more appropriate to send an email or talk to them after class. Emphasize that their participation grades are heavily affected by these disrespectful actions.

Final Thoughts

Take any opportunity you can to teach while you’re in graduate school. It’s an excellent experience. It looks great on the resume, and it will build your speaking/leadership skills. And, at the very least, you’ll get funny stories out of it. So far, I’ve had a student who said he was so stressed out that he’s going bald, a student who asked me for help reading her bank statement, and a student who admitted he Googled me and found out I was French. Teaching is full of surprises.

 

Teaching Writing with YouTube by Michelle Barbeau, San Diego State

Watch the YouTube video “Did you know 3.0.” What does it all mean? We are living in exponential times and information technology’s effects on society, globally and on the individual level, are real. These changes are noticeable in today’s college students, because they are the first generation to have grown up with computers. For these digital natives, a large portion of written and verbal communication occurs through e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, instant messages, forums, blogs, etc. Shouldn’t these social practices and their resulting discourse have a place in the college classroom? We have no choice if we want curriculum to remain current and relevant to our students.

I want to focus on the freshmen composition classroom. One simple way to incorporate technology into this setting is with YouTube. I don’t mean professors should require students to create videos and post them (that would require video camera access and precious time that should be spent writing). What I am proposing is that instructors embrace YouTube as a resource and a text in order to “raise students’ awareness of their own discursive formations” (Wendi and Nelson). This video-sharing website offers ways to segue into writing assignments, appeal to digital natives, increase awareness of contemporary rhetorical communities, lessen the gap between teacher and student, and spark excitement in the classroom.

Reading YouTube

My argument is grounded in the idea that YouTube can be interpreted in the same ways as a standard text. Visual rhetoric may not be a text in the traditional sense, but it has many similar attributes. Conventional rhetorical principles, such as audience awareness, exigence, organization correctness, arrangement, and rhetorical appeals are exhibited by multimodal compositions (Multimodal 5). And most YouTube videos, whether successfully or unsuccessfully, exhibit these elements of argument. This means they can be “read, decoded, and interpreted unproblematically and acontextually” just like an academic essay (Blakesley and Brooke). We can have students evaluate what the creator’s rhetorical objectives were and whether he or she met them according to the conventions of argument. Visual rhetoric also offers an alternative means to teach the modes of persuasion—particularly the neglected third appeal, pathos (Multimodal 4). The authors of the scholarly articles typically used in the composition classroom don’t blatantly set out to manipulate their audience’s emotions. At least, this usually isn’t one of the primary objectives. But in visual media, this is often a chief strategy.

Some educators might negatively react to YouTube being used as a text in the writing classroom, because they believe the readings on the course syllabus should be academic essays and other intellectual works. They might also think this type of traditional reading is important, since students aren’t getting enough of it outside of school. I would argue that students need both on the readings list—the tangible page and hypermedia. Solely reading and deconstructing scholarly articles, short stories, newspaper articles, etc., underprepares them for their interactions outside of class and their future careers, where they will more than likely be engaging in postmodern, Web-based reading and writing on a daily basis (which is typically much less formal).

We must even go a step further by encouraging our students to analyze how visual media affects the viewer differently than a standard text does. Blakesley and Brooke state, “As students and teachers adapt to these new technologies and venues for reading and writing, it will be important to understand the way that words and images function rhetorically and together in the various forms of media and literature that grab our attention and so delicately direct the intention.” They are exactly right. As much as we might not want to admit it, print is slowly disappearing (or at least falling by the wayside), and professors need to consider the direction texts, and society in general, are headed in. As Selfe affirms, “We need to teach them how to pay attention to technology and the issues that result from the technology-literacy linkage” (“Technology” 433). One way is by incorporating YouTube into the classroom.

The Postmodern Learner

As I’ve stated, the students entering classrooms aren’t the students from 20 years ago, who were educated before computers became intertwined in mainstream culture. Today’s learners have become accustomed to “multitasking as a way of life; emphasis on doing rather than knowing; greater familiarity with typing rather than handwriting; the importance of staying connected; zero tolerance for delay, along with a 24 x 7 mentality; and reliance on the web as the primary source of information” (Lockard and Pegrum 126). Grabbing a dictionary to look up the definition of a word or going to the library to check out a book for a research paper is laborious when Google is a few clicks away. Some might even go as far as to argue that, because of this reliance on technology and the vast amount of time young adults spend online, their brains are wired differently (Prensky). As someone born in the ’80s, I would have to say this is true.

People even read differently. As Faigley mentions in his book, Rhetorical Bodies, the format of online texts is completely different, and in turn, people read in new ways. This type of reading involves “three long historical trajectories: the development of writing systems…the development of images…and the development of capitalism” (Faigley 174). This is apparent on YouTube, where a video is accompanied by clickable flashing advertisements, video ratings, video responses, comments, a description, related videos, and even statistics about it. Reading now requires a certain level of resistance to distractions and gives the viewer the power to read chunks of “text” in any order they please.

In the YouTube video, “A Vision of Students Today,” the professor of an undergraduate writing class surveyed his students and found that each one reads 2,300 web pages and 1,281 Facebook profiles a year on average, but only 8 books (Wesch). Considering these proportions, it is clear that part of our responsibility as 21st century teachers is to equip students with the knowledge to be active critics of web-based communication mediums, just as we do with hard copy texts.

On a more fundamental level, there have always been different types of learners. And videos work well for this diversity too, because they appeal to both visual and auditory learners—especially those of the 21st century that prefer graphics over text (Prensky). Plus, often a video can paint a mental image of a concept, making it easier to remember. Take the famous “I Have a Dream” speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. Remember reading it? Have you ever seen a video of Dr. King delivering it? The experience is drastically different. The pathos appeals in his argument come to life. The physical aspects of delivery, such as body language, tone and facial expressions, also enhance the experience.

This is just one example of a video that could be shown in a composition classroom. A video of a poet reading his or her work, clips from scenes in movies or TV shows that can be deconstructed, updates on current events, and perspectives on controversial issues occurring on other college campuses are some more. Professors could even use a YouTube video to get a free write or an in-class debate going. The beauty of this technology is that it provides a fresh way to teach the same information, and it requires only a quick online search. Preparation for the class is no more entailed than getting ready for an in-class critique of a traditional text.

Regardless of these benefits, we need to remain conscious of why we are using a YouTube video over other non-web-based options. Jerry Farber provides a good point of advice: “The challenge for teachers is to learn not to take [computer technology] for granted, to resist turning it into merely one more screen in their students’ lives, and to find ways of teaching that help to realize, rather than ignore, its extraordinary potential.” As long as we make the online experience meaningful and dig past the surface level of a YouTube video, it has a place in the classroom. Other types of visual media, such as movies and TV shows, don’t work as well on their own because they are static and less representative of the kinds of interactive communities embedded in the lives of our students.

A Contemporary Rhetorical Community

We are in a world where the pixel is replacing the word as the fundamental unit of communication (Blakesley and Brooke). YouTube exemplifies this postmodern shift—it is the epitome of a contemporary rhetorical community. Zappen started analyzing these types of communities upon the advent of chatrooms in the ’80s. He observed, “Contemporary notions of the rhetorical community characterize this community less as the locus of shared beliefs and values than as a public space or forum within which diverse and sometimes conflicting beliefs and values can be articulated and negotiated.” This is a good thing. There are YouTube videos on a wide array of controversial topics (e.g., politics, abortion, gay marriage), and users have the option of posting a “video response” to a specific post. This creates a very interactive debate in which opinions can be negotiated on the spot, and with peoples from all over the world.

We can also take advantage of the comment section as a teaching point. It is a real-time conversation, almost like a forum, in which viewers can discuss their opinion of the video, whether it regards the quality of an American Idol contestant’s voice or the solidity of President Obama’s economic plan. Anyone can enter the discussion once they set up a basic YouTube account. This kind of interaction isn’t possible in print. A teacher could even team up with the class to comment on a video. As a bonus, comments are limited to 500 characters, creating the perfect opportunity for a lesson in how to avoid wordiness.

YouTube is also a democratic community. As Faigley argues, “Recently most people had little opportunity to produce and distribute images, audio, or video themselves. With the advent of the World Wide Web in the mid-1990s, technologies of the visual can no longer be denied” (185). Anyone can share his or her views by posting a video on YouTube. This makes it a great outlet for students to hear a wide variety of opinions, on a wide array of topics, from a diverse body of people (i.e., racially, culturally, socioeconomic-wise). Zappen adds, “Scholars who have explored the uses of computer-based communication technologies affirm the democratizing and community-building potential of these technologies.” Students need to understand the positive and negative ramifications of such an open community.

Explaining how your students can take advantage of this community to voice their opinions is important. Wendi and Nelson comment on how easy it is: “Entering public deliberations on all kinds of public issues is as straightforward as sending a letter to the local newspaper…or posting to a blog.” And I would add posting a video. Showing them YouTube videos in which this has been effectively and ineffectively carried out and having them figure out the difference is even more crucial. Faigley adds, “The Web has become the primary medium for grass-roots media activism” (194). We should want our students to be aware of the ways in which YouTube functions as a democracy.

Shrinking the Gap

YouTube can also be a means to lessen the gap between teacher and student. Finding a happy medium between being a stern authority figure and an approachable, laid back professor has always been a struggle. There have been several essays written by composition theorists that center on creating this persona in the classroom. In fact, in Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Paulo Freire argues that teachers should form a partnership with their students and overcome “authoritarianism and an alienating intellectualism.” Exploiting the democratic community of YouTube changes the dynamics of the classroom in terms of the teacher-student relationship, making it more balanced.

With YouTube, the teacher is still in control of which topics will be discussed, but the message or argument is not coming directly from them or another academic—it is often coming from your average person “off the street” or from someone who chooses to remain anonymous. This lessens the distance between teacher and student. The absence of author credentials or ties to prestigious institutions also allows students to drop their guard and judge the author’s idea, realizing they may not be valid and must be challenged. This is the stance we typically have trouble getting students to take when it comes to scholarly texts.

Plus, academic essays and novels that we as teachers find interesting and important aren’t always relevant to our students and “may not appear intelligible or hospitable to students we try to bring into our worlds” (Wendi and Nelson). In fact, one college composition class felt only 26% of what they read for class is relevant to their life (Wesch). Using multimedia to get a point across and teach a concept is a nice change of pace. As Selfe observed, “Such instruction is often refreshing (because it’s different from the many other composing instruction experiences they’ve had), meaningful (because the production of multimodal texts in class resemble many of the real-life texts students encounter in digital spaces), and relevant (students often sense that multimodal approaches to composing will matter in their lives outside the classroom)” (“Multimodal” 4). The ability to apply what one learns in class to life outside of it is one of the main motivations for embarking into higher education. On a personal note, my favorite class in college was Writing for Economics, because everything we learned how to write (e.g., business plans, resumes, cover letters) directly applied to my career goals. I was able to immediately employ these writing strategies to get a good job.

In our quest to lessen the gap between teachers and students, we must remember that if the separation completely disappears, it can have negative repercussions. Tietje and Cresap argue, “The increasing use of visual media in higher education represents a cultural shift that casts doubt on the traditional role of the university.” Their central claim is that the dominance of entertainment and youth culture diminishes the power of professors and the educational institution. I believe that instead of pushing technology away because of this view, we should get to know the so-called enemy. Setting aside time to show students we have an understanding of computers and how they affect society will earn us respect in the classroom.

More Engagement

Lastly, from personal experience, I know it can get boring reading theorist after theorist. The often stuffy prose, convoluted language and lack of imagery makes it less desirable. It’s productive to include bits of visual rhetoric from YouTube to break up a writing course curriculum, while making sure to maintain an instructional objective for doing so. As Selfe states, “Audio and visual compositions are engaging for students…Students often bring to the classroom a great deal of implicit, perhaps previously unarticulated, knowledge about what is involved in composing multimodal texts, and they commonly respond to multimodal assignments with excitement” (“Multimodal” 4). Visual media may be the remedy for students turned off by writing—even if it is only used to get the creativity and energy flowing during an 8 a.m. class in which the last thing students want to do is analyze Foucault or Shakespeare. Tietje and Cresap argue, “There is no further outcome to be gained from being a member of an audience. Although one can expect some mimetic or cathartic effects, one does not routinely become more creative or more active as a result of consuming entertainment.” I disagree. As Selfe says, students are bringing implicit knowledge and creativity into the classroom, because they already know a lot about visual media—probably more than their teachers. Being able to express this in class would give them a sense of empowerment.

YouTube is also helpful, because it lists special categories, including “Education” and “News and Politics”—great places to pull videos from to use in class. There are also educational channels; the Associated Press has one and so do most large universities. Videos become “edutainment.” Although, Tietje and Cresap would strongly disagree: “Because visual media are normally used in our culture to provide aesthetic pleasure in the form of entertainment, the use of visual media in education tends to break down the distinction between education and entertainment.” I think it is okay for education to be entertaining. Look at the way we learn as a child with shows like Barney and Sesame Street. We are teaching freshmen, who have come to us straight out of high school and high-school-level readings. Why not make the classroom a little less intimidating?

A Time to Tube

My intent is to argue for YouTube in the classroom without discounting the value of reading academic essays or the importance of writing. These activities should still form the foundation of a composition course. But we must also recognize that 20 years ago computers had already changed the way in which humans communicate and exchange information (“Computer” 268). Like Selfe argues, “It is important to remain in step with the ways in which students, workers and citizens are communicating, the changing nature of the texts these people produce, and the way in which such texts are now being used around the world” (Multimodal 3). YouTube offers ways to talk about these changes in the classroom, segue into writing assignments, appeal to digital natives, increase awareness of how contemporary rhetorical communities function, lessen the gap between teacher and student, and spark excitement.

We should want students to leave our classroom with new viewpoints and a critical lens to look at new technologies through. They should contemplate how these technologies are microcosms of what is going on in the wider culture. When our apprentices graduate, they won’t be writing academic essays; they will likely be creating websites, writing articles for the Web, developing hypermedia, tweeting to market a product, and participating in other computer-based activities. Shouldn’t we be setting them up for a lifetime of writing and critiquing, not just the next paper assignment?

Works Cited

Blakesley, David and Collin Brooke. Enculturation. 3.2 (2001): n. pag. Web. 3 May 2009.

Faigley, Lester. Rhetorical Bodies: Toward a Material Rhetoric. Madison: University of

Wisconsin Press, 1999. 171-201. Print.

Farber, Jerry. “Teaching and Presence.”  Pedagogy. 8.2 (2008): 215-23. Print.

Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum, 1996. Print.

Lockard, Joe and Mark Pegrum. Brave New Classrooms: Democratic Education and the

Internet. New York: Peter Lang, 2006. Print.

Prensky, Marc. “Digital Natives, Digital Immigrants.” On the Horizon. 9.5 (2001): 1-6.

Selfe, Cynthia and Billie Wahlstrom. “Computer-Supported Writing Classes: Lessons for

Teachers.” Computers in English and the Language Arts. National Council of Teachers of English, 1989. 257-68. Print.

Selfe, Cynthia. Multimodal Composition: Resources for Teachers. New Jersey: Hampton Press,

2007. Print.

Selfe, Cynthia. “Technology and Literacy: A Story About the Perils of Not Paying Attention.”

College Composition and Communication. 50.3 (1999): 411-36. Print.

Tietje, Louis and Steven Cresap. “Hegemonic Visualism.” Radical Pedagogy. 7.1 (2005): n. pag.

Web. 3 May 2009.

Wendi, Janice and Thomas Nelson. “Bridging the Composition Divide: Blog Pedagogy and the

Potential for Agonistic Classrooms.” Currents in Electronic Literacy. 9 (2005): n. pag. Web. 3 May 2009.

Wesch, Michael. “A Vision of Students Today.” YouTube. Web. 19 May 2009.

Zappen, James, Laura Gurak, and Stephen Doheny-Farina. “Rhetoric, Community, and

Cyberspace.” Rhetoric Review. 15 (1997): 400-19. Print.

 

 

 

 

Evangelical Christianity Online: Eliciting Material World Responses in the Cyberworld by Erin Flewelling, San Diego State University

On Good Friday, one of the most significant days in the Christian calendar, when Christians commemorate Jesus’ death on the cross, LifeChurch.tv’s Church Online gathered for an online global prayer outreach for upcoming Easter Services.  Essentially, individuals from around the world—who understand each other through the magic of translation software—logged onto http://babelwith.me and prayed together for friends and family who had not yet begun a relationship with Jesus.  This community of people is serious about the role they play in fulfilling the mission of God on earth, that is, connecting men and women to God and to each other in spite of the fact that most of them have never met in person.

Church Online is associated with LifeChurch.tv, a multisite evangelical Christian congregation that relies heavily on technology to expand its reach from headquarters in Oklahoma City, across all of Oklahoma, Texas, New York, Tennessee, and Florida.  Although most elements of services at their physical campuses are live, the teaching portion is a live feed or a prerecorded segment, depending on service time.  Their large staff also produces high quality supplementary videos, artwork, and curriculum which they offer free of charge to other churches along with sermon outlines and use of sermon videos.  They were also one of the first churches to venture into the internet campus world with the launch of services on Easter 2006.  Basically this allowed them to extend their message anywhere on the planet with an internet connection.  In a 2009 article published in Leadership Journal, Bobby Gruenewald, Pastor of Innovational Leadership at Lifechurch.tv, estimated that approximately 50,000 unique IP addresses log onto services every week, with about one in ten staying for the entire service.

I get a lot of questions when I tell people I’m researching online Christian churches.  They want to know if an online church can actually function as a church.  Certainly, the Internet is a great informational tool, and nobody is surprised about the proliferation of religious websites, but the idea that people can form spiritual connections over the internet seems counterintuitive.   However, the Internet presents enormous opportunity for evangelicals, and we shouldn’t be surprised that churches would want to levy that technology.  Stephen O’Leary reminds us that as people spend more and more time online, it “would indeed be an anomaly if a cultural force of this magnitude were not to find expression in the newly developing world of computer networks” (282).

The adoption of any technology, however, should raise questions about the effect of that technology on the people who use it.  Heidi Campbell writes that fears have “emerged that online religion [will] cause people to abandon their pews in exchange for worship via the keyboard and computer screen, further effecting the steady decline of “real world” church attendance” (xvi), and Brenda Brasher suggests that the “chief worry is that engagement with the Internet could reconfigure the traditions that technologically adept, spiritually committed people have gone online to maintain” (xii).  Others are more optimistic, but essentially, as Dawson and Cowan remind us, the “consequences for religion are yet largely unknown,” and we need to ask how this “new way of being religious” will make a difference in the way “religion is conceived and practiced in the future.”

Morten Høsgaard states the obvious when he says that religion cannot have an essence or existence independent of human existence, and that “allegedly pure cyber-religious sites are . . . produced and used by persons who do not live their entire lives ‘on the screen.’”  In other words, people who participate in online religious websites are real people living in a real world.  This way of thinking is compatible with evangelical Christianity, which argues against a purely propositional or virtual belief system, stating that faith without works is dead.   Evangelical Christian churches have very specific goals–life transformation, becoming like Christ, and sharing the story of Jesus with others.  The Christian faith is more than propositional; it is transformational.  Craig Van Gelder, professor of congregational mission at Luther Seminary in St. Paul argues it is “important . . . to keep returning to the foundations of what it means to be the church of Jesus Christ in the world” (1).  Indeed, he claims that the “the primary issue confronting the church in our context today “is the need to re-examine and re-envision what it means to be the church” (vii).  That includes the innovative use of technology.

Gruenewald, LifeChurch.tv’s Pastor of Innovation, says, “Our desire is to leverage technology to connect people to Christ, to each other, and to their community” (Hall 48).  These are the same goals as they have for their physical campuses.  But can an online church really do that?  Can an online church achieve the same things as a church with a physical presence?  And can decisions made in the cyberworld actually change the way individuals live in the material world?  LifeChurch.tv’s Church believes that they can.

In an attempt to fulfill its goals, Church Online has incorporated layers of rhetorical strategies, designed to take any cyberworld response into the material world.  In examining some of those strategies, we’ll look at three major elements of Church Online: embedded features on the website; the chat feature that is ongoing throughout services, enabling guests to interact with each other; and the actual recorded worship experiences.  Next, we’ll examine appeals made to extend the message of life transformation from the cyberworld into the world in which we all live.  We will also discuss the development of ethos and the use of repetition to effect life transformation.

First, the embedded features on the website allow visitors to the website to explore Church Online 24 hours per day, whether a service is going on or not.  Guests to the website can link to Facebook, they can “tell their stories” on a form, request additional information or “Live Prayer” in a private chat setting.  They can also access a blog written by Church Online staff and volunteers, who write about issues relevant to the online community including service opportunities through Church Online as well as opportunities to serve in the real world, and the importance of belonging to a Life Group.  One blog discussed how online communities deal with a death.  There was even a humorous video depicting Church Online chat conversations, which actually seem pretty odd at times.

The chat component of the Church Online worship experience opens approximately 30 minutes prior to the service starting and extends for approximately 15 minutes after the service ends.  The forum can be distracting for individuals who want to focus on the sermon without interacting with others.  As I said, the chats can seem odd as multiple conversations go on simultaneously – individuals will log on with their own agendas, their own theologies, or looking for dates.  However, after observing these chats for the last month, I understood that this chat component is a major way that relationships form at Church Online, and increases the likelihood that participants will respond to the messages found on the site.  I began to see many of the same people on the chat.  A few were present every time I logged in; others logged on to the same services week after week.  Listening in to their conversations, it was clear that these people had “history” together.  The forum is moderated by volunteers: a captain, an admin, hosts, and prayer volunteers.  They all receive video training on a password-protected portion of the website.  Volunteers greet every guest who signs into the chat, and from time to time they suggest ways for guests to make the Church Online worship experience more comfortable, such as turning off the chat or accessing sermon notes.  Volunteers respond to questions and engage guests in thinking about messages communicated through the recorded segments.  Frequently, one of the volunteers will send out Tweets with essential questions asked within the sermon or they’ll reference major points made in the sermon.  These Tweets become part of the chat.  For example, during week two of Red Letter Day, volunteers regularly sent out the statement, “Withholding forgiveness can hold you captive.  How can you truly forgive and be free?”  As guests chat, they engage these questions, and as a result the appeals made in the prerecorded segment are repeated throughout the Church Online experience.

The prerecorded portion includes a variety of segments.  Every service begins with a greeting from a campus pastor in the United States or from one of their global partners.  In the last few weeks we have been greeted by a couple from Northern Ireland, a pastor from Australia, a pastor from South Africa, a Czechoslovakian woman as well as a lay pastor from Atlanta.  These greetings connect viewers around the world and emphasize that although Life Church headquarters are in Oklahoma, the church itself has a global presence.  A second greeting comes from Brandon Donaldson, the Church Online Campus Pastor.  The worship band sings three songs.  This is a highly energetic band, and the music has broad appeal, featuring acoustic and electric guitars, bass, and drums.  Song lyrics flash across the screen, and guests can link to the band’s Facebook site if they want, choose to follow the lead vocal on Twitter, or purchase songs through i-Tunes.

Topical sermons emphasize practical real world application.  In the three sermons I transcribed, we were urged to trust God during difficult times, we were challenged to forgive, and we were asked to serve others out of love.  Past sermon series have focused on marriage, raising children, and financial issues.  Scripture appears on the screen, below the speaker, and guests can access the sermon outline by clicking on an icon.  They can take notes on the outline and if they write in their email address, Church Online staff will send a copy of the notes. The pastor wears jeans, a T-shirt, maybe a blazer, but never a tie.  In fact, you won’t find a suit and tie anywhere on this website or during these services.  These are real people, living in a real world, and guests to the website can identify with them.  Sermons often includes video testimony from church members who tell portions of their life story to illustrate the sermon points.  For example, in Red Letter Day #1, a supplemental video featured three individuals from different ethnic backgrounds and different ages.  Each sat alone on a red bench in front of a white background, looking directly into the camera, essentially into the eyes of the Church Online participants:

  • The first, a young white female, was nearly in tears as she spoke: “Hi, my name is Lisa, and in July 2008, my husband and I went in for a routine ultrasound at 20 weeks, and we found out then that our baby didn’t have a heartbeat.”
  • Next, a middle-aged white male spoke: “Hi, my name is Scott.  About, it was early morning, I got a phone call, and it was about my grandson being taken to the hospital.  And he was my little buddy.  He was the world to me.  I have other grandkids, but he was special.”
  • Finally, a twenty-something black female told her story:  “Hi, my name is Deidre, and, um— my father sexually abused me until I was eight years old. And he also beat the living daylights out of my mother.”

They continued to alternate, telling portions of their stories, describing a variety of situations where individuals might ask God what was going on.  After the pastor completed his sermon, a follow-up video ensued, and these individuals returned to tell their stories about how God breathed light into darkness.  Videos like this one function in a variety of ways.  Obviously, there is a pathos appeal as these individuals tell their stories, as we focus on their faces and hear the pain in their voices.  We are likely to have experienced something similar, or at least we know someone who has, and so we identify with these individuals.  In addition, these videos allow us to see points of the message applied to real life situations, like the ones we experience on a daily basis.

One of the most powerful elements to establishing Church Online as a legitimate spiritual community is the construction of ethos.  In On Rhetoric, Aristotle writes that if a speaker seems to be a “certain kind of person and . . . his hearers suppose him to be disposed toward them in a certain way . . .” (112), then the rhetoric will be more effective in persuading hearers to respond in a particular way.  In the case of Church Online, not only do the various speakers need to develop credibility, but the website itself and the various uses of technology must be constructed in such a way as to build trustworthiness.  Aristotle cites “three reasons why speakers . . . are persuasive” and listed “practical wisdom . . virtue . . and good will” (112) and certainly these are evidenced in the presentation as teaching pastors and lead musicians share personal challenges in living out their marriages, raising children, or dealing with economic issues.  They demonstrate a strong desire to live good lives, positively impacting and influencing their communities.  In the chat, captains, hosts, and admin open the chat by welcoming anyone attending the service.  They greet each guest who logs on, and they respond with caring tones.

In her rhetorical analysis of the websites of congregational churches, Lynne Raab notes that “high quality photos and graphics” which “demonstrated . . . a tight and coherent design . . . conveyed to some audiences a sense of authority and credibility based on quality, increasing their persuasive appeal” (153).  Indeed, this is a professional, quality site.  Videos feature multiple camera angles, lights, effects.  This is as good as anything seen on television.  If participants arrive before service begins, a time clock, counting down the hours before the next service starts.  Remarkably, participants can converse with people in multiple countries through translation software. All of these professional qualities convey a sense of trustworthiness and credibility that increases the persuasive appeal of the messages LifeChurch communicates.

A map of the world identifies all the countries logged onto any service, further legitimizing the experience, as does the presence of people from various cultures in the chat.  Furthermore, the existence of thirteen physical campuses across five states lends credibility, constructing an identity that extends from the cyber world into the physical world.  During the music segment, the cameras primarily focus on the worship band, but from time to time, it pans back, showing the congregation standing, engaged in worship.  The effect of these shots is to connect Church Online participants to real people, engaged in a live service.  When participants worship with Church Online, they are part of something that extends beyond the Internet.  Lives are being changed, decisions are being made, and communities are being formed as Church Online partners with churches across the United States and even around the world in building the Kingdom of God.  Indeed, last fall Church Online tangibly partnered with LifeChurch.tv’s physical campuses to put together Life Packs containing items to help people meet basic needs.  Campuses across the United States chose where to deliver Life Packs, and individuals involved with Church Online could choose to deliver them to their own community or to be part of sending Life Packs to a school in Pakistan.

All of these elements lead to a sense that Life Church can be trusted, that LifeChurch.tv has the authority to speak for God.  This lays a foundation for other messages, communicated repeatedly through various means in the sermons, ads, on the chat, and on the website.  The more times participants hear the same thing, the more likely they are to respond, and Church Online stays on message throughout the one-hour experience.

During Red Letter Day #3, Church Online Campus Pastor Brandon Donaldson pulled up his iPhone to read the story of a woman whose life changed because of being involved with Church Online.  During the same service, a video ad reminded participants that not only can they access several versions of the Bible through YouVersion, a free “app” for web-enabled phones, but they can also participate in surveys and type sermon notes on the outline provided through YouVersion.  Guest speaker Pastor Joel A’Bell commented to the live congregation that he no longer hears the shuffle of page turning as people open their Bibles.  Instead, he hears the click-click-click of people accessing their iPhones.

I don’t have a web enabled phone—I’m not sure I need one, and I’m not sure my eyesight would even allow me to read a YouVersion Bible—but after spending the last month with Church Online, I really want one.

Over and over I watched a video exhorting me, “You are called,” “You were meant for something greater.”  Faces of men and women of all ethnicities directly facing the camera, eyes apparently looking directly at me.  In her rhetorical analysis of church websites, Lynne Baab identifies these kinds of images as a “demand” because the participant’s gaze demands that I enter into some kind of imaginary relationship with him or her (154).  The call is vague and ambiguous—it applies to anything and everything that has been said during the service, whether on the chat, in various videos, or during the sermon.  The voice continues:

You will restore good back into the broken everywhere

All you need is Christ at the center of everything

Be who he called you to be because who you are is far greater than what you do

You are called.

This video exhorts me to do something, and allows me to interpret its message.  Perhaps it’s to forgive, to work on my marriage, to invite people to Church Online, to make a decision for Christ, to do something significant for my community.

At the end of each service, participants are asked to acknowledge their response to the sermon message.  During the first sermon in the series Red Letter Day, Pastor Craig Groeschel addressed his listeners, stating:

If you’re in a difficult place right now, and you say, Craig, I really do need prayer.  I would love to pray for you.  If you would like, if you really need prayer right now . . . would you just lift up your hands right now, at all of our locations, just go ahead . . . and just lift your hands up right and say, I need prayer.

At Church Online, response to this appeal is signified by clicking on a raised hand, shown on the screen.  A box below the screen acknowledges that the participant has raised a hand and counts the number of hands lifted.  A few minutes later, the Church Online Campus Pastor returns to the screen and urges respondents to request a “What’s Next Kit” containing a Bible, to join a small online Life Group community, or to click on the prayer link to speak to someone more privately.

Repetition is a powerful rhetorical strategy, and the service is filled with invitations to get involved in life groups, to volunteer with Church Online, to choose to follow Christ, to log on to the Prayer link.  As I watch again and again, I lower my natural defenses and I become more open to the messages of Church Online.

The first time I logged on to Church Online, I was distracted by the chat.  There were too many things going on for me to concentrate on the actual sermon message, and for whatever reason, the prerecorded segments seemed distant. Despite the fact that I was warmly welcomed by people on the chat, I wondered whether or not true spiritual community was possible and questioned whether or not Church Online could function as a “real church.”  After spending the last month transcribing services, though, watching people interact on the chat, hearing the message of life transformation over and over, I am changing my mind.  Perhaps it is the development of ethos, or perhaps it is sheer repetition, but I am beginning to believe that Church Online is a real church. However, I am already amenable to ideas of faith, and perhaps my bias toward faith influences my response.  As a Christian, already involved with a faith community, I am not Church Online’s intended audience.

I am curious as to their actual audience, a difficult determination due to the anonymity of the internet.  And yet, these are questions that have to be asked in order to determine whether or not the rhetoric of Church Online actually achieves its goals.  I want to know:  Is Church Online the primary religious experience for participants, or is it supplemental?  How do participants find Church Online, and what prompts them to stay?  What is their religious background, and how does that background affect their response to the rhetoric?  I also want to know: How many participants begin attending one of LifeChurch’s actual campuses, and how many begin attending another church?

Church Online Campus Pastor Brandon Donaldson closes every service, saying:“Remember, whoever finds God finds life.” And so these next questions are probably the most important in determining the persuasiveness of rhetoric:  What effect do decisions to begin a relationship with Christ made in the cyberworld make on lives lived in the world outside the internet?  Is there long-term transformation?  These and other topics concerning the nature of online religious community and the effect of technology, particularly religious technology, depending on the way individuals think and respond to the world offer endless opportunities for research.       Charles

REFERENCES

 

Aristotle.  On Rhetoric.  George A. Kennedy, Ed.  New York: Oxford Unver

sity Press.  2007.  Print.

Baab, Lynne M.  “Portraits of the Future Church: A Rhetorical Analysis of

Congregational Websites.” Journal of Communication and Religion 31,

November 2008: 143-181.  Web. 20 Feb. 2010.

Brasher, Brenda E.  Give Me That Online Religion.  San Francisco: Jossey-

Bass.  2001.  Print.

Campbell, Heidi.  Exploring Religious Community Online: We are One in the

Network.  New York: Peter Lang Publishing. 2005.  Print.

Cooper, Joshua.  “Finding God on the Web.” Time.  Time.com.  16 Dec.

1996.  Web. 29 Nov. 2009.

Dawson, Lorne.  “The Mediation of Religious Experience in Cyberspace.”

Religion and Cyberspace.  Morten T. Højsgaard and Margit Warburg,

Eds. 15-37.  Print. 

Dawson, Lorne and Douglas E. Cowan, eds.  Religion Online: Finding Faith

on the Internet. New York: Routledge.  2004.  Print. 

Hall, Chad.  “Church Virtually.”  Leadership Journal Fall 2009: 46-52.  Print.

Højsgaard, Morten T. and Margit Warburg, eds.  Religion and Cyberspace. 

New York: Routledge.  2005.

O’Leary, Stephen J.  “Cyberspace as Sacred Space.”  Journal of the American

Academy of Religion 64:4 (1996): 781-808.  JSTOR.  Web. 24 Nov. 2009. 

Van Gelder, Craig, Ed.  The Missional Church in Context.  Grand Rapids:

Eerdmans Wm. B. Publishing Company.  2007.  Print.

 

Freaking the Mind: Exploring the Rhetoric of Magic in Criss Angel’s Mindfreak by Joseph Zompetti, Illinois State University

Abstract:

The art of magic has enjoyed increasing visibility and a resurgence of interest, as demonstrated by the rising popularity of magicians, such as David Blaine, Hans Klok, Franz Harary, David Copperfield, and the production of two major motion pictures within a single year – The Prestige and The Illusionist.  With his number one-rated cable television show and his recent ten-year contract for a major Vegas show with Cirque de Soleil at the Luxor, Criss Angel Chris Angelpersonifies the modern-day magician who is at the forefront of the magic renaissance.  This paper attempts to examine the rhetorical potency of magic by analyzing the first season of Criss Angel’s award-winning television show, Mindfreak.  By using Kenneth Burke’s concepts of symbolic action and identification, this paper explores the symbolic, albeit persuasive, dimension to magic as exemplified by Criss Angel.

Introduction

 Conjurers try to convey the impossible. They attempt to convince the audience that their performance is “real” magic.  In the end, the magician is performing, just as an actor or musician would do, in order to convince the audience that what they are doing is not only entertainment, but also substantive – the illusionist wants us to believe and feel their act is occurring and is realistic.  Although we know the “magic” on stage doesn’t actually happen – the assistant can’t disappear and the levitation is not within the realm of possibility – we still see, feel, and believe that what occurs on stage is real.  That is the magician’s trade; it is the cornerstone of persuasion.  We may think that sales persons, lawyers, and clerics are the masters of persuasion, but in “reality,” magicians are the foremost experts of persuasion.  They not only entertain us, but they also reveal to us what is not real.  They perform what we know is impossible.  In effect, they sell us a bill of goods that we know we shouldn’t buy; thus, magic’s persuasive charm.  According to Devant, a famous magician from the early 1900s, magic is “the feeling that we have seen some natural law disturbed” (p. 8). And as Aristotle remarked over 2,000 years ago, the “available means of persuasion” is what we know as “rhetoric” (Aristotle, p. 36). As a result, magicians are the modern rhetoricians, keen on persuading the rest of us that what is going on is really happening, when in actuality, the occurrence is nothing more than, literally, smoke and mirrors.

What may not seem so clear, however, is exactly how magic functions rhetorically.  The magic “act” may be nothing more than a simple sleight-of-hand or misdirection.  Yet, many magic acts, or what Criss Angel calls “demonstrations,” are much more involved.  They may be combined with other acts to produce illusions or altered perceptions of reality.  These acts, then, are an art form that require years of practice and study.  Whether it is a basic card trick or a Vegas-style illusion, the demonstration bends how one views the world.

The art of magic has enjoyed increasing visibility and a resurgence of interest, as demonstrated by the rising popularity of magicians, such as David Blaine, Hans Klok, Franz Harary, David Copperfield, and the production of two major motion pictures within a single year – The Prestige (Nolan, 2006) and The Illusionist (Burger, 2006).  With his number one-rated cable television show and his recent ten-year contract for a major Vegas show with Cirque de Soleil at the Luxor, Criss Angel personifies the modern-day magician who is at the forefront of the magic renaissance.  He even argues in the first episode of Mindfreak that “magic today is not popular culture; I’m hoping to change that.  Magic hasn’t garnered the respect as music or film, so that is what I’m trying to do increase its visibility with pop culture” (Angel, 2005a).

This paper attempts to examine the rhetorical potency of magic by analyzing the first season of Criss Angel’s award-winning television show, Mindfreak.  In order to understand more clearly how the art of magic does this, I will use the Burkean concepts of symbolic action and identification to investigate how the meanings behind the symbols in magic function rhetorically.  Since Burke remarks that “Words are the signs of things,” we shall investigate the signs behind the magic (Burke, 1966, p. 363).  By looking at Mindfreak, I will focus on this connection between magic and rhetoric.

Review of Literature

The rhetorical dimension of magic has been relatively unexplored.  In fact, most scholars have distanced themselves from studying magic because they deem it unsophisticated or non-academic.  This distancing has its origins in antiquity.  For example, the Hippocratic treatise, On the Sacred Disease, views magic as deceptive and contrasts it with the sacred principles of religion and piety (de Romilly, 1975, p. 27).  The proclivity of associating magic more with religion and the occult than with the art of rhetoric is commonplace (Aune, 2003; Dunn, 2005; Kennedy, 1998; O’Keefe, 1982).  In addition, Earle J. Coleman describes the lack of attention magic has received in most of the major disciplines, including psychology, sociology, history, and theatre (Coleman, 1987).  Unfortunately, due to the inattention magic has received from the liberal arts, magic has been relatively unexplored as a serious art form.

Despite the sparse attention magic has received by scholars, some have discussed how magic and theatre have a strong relationship, especially since magic may be considered a performative art (Angel, 2007; Barnouw, 1981; Blaine, 2002; Fitzkee, 1944; Kennedy, 1998; Steinkraus, 1979).  Furthermore, many have written about how magic is an art form, although its status as an “art form” is not associated, necessarily, with any particular academic area of study (Coleman, 1987; Dawes, 1979; de Romilly, 1975; Steinmeyer, 2003; Taylor, 1979).  Even Burke, in A Rhetoric of Motives, refers to magic as an “art” (1969, p. 42).  Although some consider magic to be an “art” form, most scholars overlook magic as an important component worthy of study, much less as a valued communicative act.

William Covino (1992) discusses the relationship between symbols and magic since antiquity, especially their simultaneous marginalization by so-called scientific reasoning.  Elsewhere, Covino argues that magic is rhetorical in the sense that it is mysterious and that language has magical qualities (1994; 2002).  However, he provides little support, other than his own perspectives, on the meaning-formation of magical acts.  Nor does he explore how magic utilizes persuasive symbols.  In an earlier work, Covino suggests that magic and rhetoric are synonymous, especially since the “congeniality of magic and technical rhetoric results from the real power of rhetoric to design and alter reality” (Covino, 1991, p. 25).  In other words, Covino argues that language use in society borrows from principles of magic, especially regarding the generative capacity of language to portray collective or social ideas.  In the end, while Covino makes the argument that magic and rhetoric are related, he emphasizes the magic in language, rather than the other way around.

In extending the assumption that there is some connection between rhetoric and magic, John O. Ward (1988) does a worthwhile job of chronicling the meanings given to rhetoric and magic.  Tracing the historicity of both magic and rhetoric from ancient Greece and Rome to the Middle Ages, Ward argues that at different times, rhetoric is associated with magic, and at other times, rhetoric is seen as technȇ.  In other words, at particular moments, the influence of magic can be seen in the conception of rhetoric, while at other times, rhetoric appears divorced from magical inspiration as it is viewed as purely instrumental in nature.

Perhaps the most important examination of both rhetoric and magic for our purposes occurs in de Romilly’s study, Magic and Rhetoric in Ancient Greece (1975).  When examining The Gorgias and The Republic, de Romilly argues that rhetoric and magic are co-productive.  In fact, she describes the relationship to the Greek concept of apatȇ:

Apatȇ, or illusion, is the aim of rhetoric. It is also the aim of magic, when the magician calls up phantoms and makes people believe in things that do not exist.  That this is the very principle of rhetoric is obvious. An antilogy, where one speech opposes another, shows that it is possible to see in the same reality now one aspect and now another. Protagoras himself was proud of making the weak thesis strong, and the strong thesis weak. (p. 26-27)

While de Romilly sets up this relationship between magic and rhetoric, she does not expound on this argument (in fact, it only occurs in the span of two pages in the entire book), nor does she describe in any detail how magic has rhetorical implications or persuasive qualities.  But, her reference of this relationship does help us by providing the foundation for analyzing the persuasive elements of magic.  If magic and rhetoric share the concept of illusion in common, then we may begin our examination of Criss Angel’s demonstrations as rhetorical acts.

Burke, Symbolic Action and Identification

Before examining Criss Angel’s demonstrations to see what, if any, rhetorical connection exists with the art of magic, it will be helpful to briefly recall Kenneth Burke’s perspectives on symbolic action and identification.  Burke’s important work on human symbol use centers on the foundation of how the meaning of language is not only shared among its users, but it also shapes the way those users think, feel, and express.  Meaning, therefore, is central to the investigation of symbolic action (or the use of language) and identification (the manner and form taken to reach other symbol users).

For Burke, symbolic action deals with the way language reflects reality and shapes our perceptions of the world around us (Gusfield, 1989, p. 8).  This happens, of course, because humans use language – or the meaning ascribed to the symbols used in language – to communicate their reality or perceptions of their world.  The meaning of symbols is the focal point of all investigations into rhetorical acts (Gusfield, 1989, p. 6).   In fact, according to Gusfield, who edited the important work entitled Kenneth Burke: On Symbols and Society, “Language cannot be separated from action because what the action means and what it is addressed to is symbolic in its content.  Action cannot be separated from language because the situation within which the actor acts is defined and understood by the actor through the concepts available to him [sic]” (1989, p. 11).  Thus, Burke provides important insight into how the use of symbols shapes our perceptions – a key component to the art of magic.  In terms of rhetoric, the meaning behind symbols is vital, since, as Burke describes, “Wherever there is persuasion, there is rhetoric.  And wherever there is ‘meaning,’ there is ‘persuasion’” (1969, p. 172).

Additionally, Burke describes the process by which a symbol user attempts to reach, or persuade, other symbol users, or, for our purposes, an audience.    When discussing identification, Burke writes “A is not identical with his [sic] colleague, B.  But insofar as their interests are joined, A is identified with B.  Or he may identify himself with B, even when their interests are not joined, if he assumes that they are, or is persuaded to believe so.  Here are ambiguities of substance.  In being identified with B, A is ‘substantially one’ with a person other than himself.  Yet at the same time he remains unique, an individual locus of motives”  (Emphasis in original, pp. 20-21).  In other words, identification is a process that transcends persuasion, while it still uses persuasion to achieve its aim.  Instead, identification is the moment when one person believes they fully share the perspective held by another.  If I can convince my students to trust me as their instructor because I, too, was a student who sat in similar chairs they now sit in not too long ago, then I can identify with them and, perhaps more importantly for this example, they can identify with me.

To understand how magic functions rhetorically, we can use the concepts of symbolic action and identification to view how Criss Angel’s demonstrations resonate, as texts, with his audience.  Burke actually speaks to this relationship, although he does not mention symbolic action specifically:

…one comes closer to the true state of affairs if one treats the socializing aspects of magic as a ‘primitive rhetoric’ than if one sees modern rhetoric simply as a ‘survival of primitive magic.’  For rhetoric is not rooted in any past condition of human society.  It is rooted in an essential function of language itself, a function that is wholly realistic, and is continually born anew; the use of language as a symbolic means of inducing cooperation in beings that by nature respond to symbols (Emphasis in original, 1969, p. 43).

Furthermore, Burke briefly discusses the role of magic in a functional process of persuasion.  Given magic’s persuasive aspects, the process by which this persuasion occurs might be considered identification:

The term ‘rhetoric’ is no substitute for ‘magic,’ ‘witchcraft,’ ‘socialization,’ ‘communication,’ and so on.  But the term rhetoric designates a function which is present in the areas variously covered by those other terms.  And we are asking only that this function be recognized for what it is: a linguistic function by nature as realistic as a proverb…For it is essentially a realism of the act: moral, persuasive – and acts are not ‘true’ and ‘false’ in the sense that the propositions of ‘scientific realism’ are.  And however ‘false’ the ‘propositions’ of primitive magic may be, …it is different with the peculiarly rhetorical ingredient in magic, involving ways of identification that contribute variously to social cohesion (Burke, 1969, p. 44).

Thus, both symbolic action and identification serve to frame magic as a uniquely rhetorical, albeit persuasive, communicative art.  Burke argues that magic, as a time-tested art practiced by primitive humans, is premised on the basic structures of language for it to operate.  By examining a textual case study, such as Criss Angel’s Mindfreak, we should be able to see more clearly the rhetorical connection with magic.

Freakin’ The Mind: Examining Mindfreak

Criss Angel is fond of saying “what you see is what you get” (Angel, 2005a, 2005b, 2005c, 2005h).  This, of course, is a double entendre, meaning it can be understood in two different ways.  On one hand, he could be saying that what we visibly see is what is real (i.e., what you see is what you get). But, on the other hand, he could also be saying that whatever occurs visibly is what should be believed, meaning that whatever tricks occur within our vision should resonate with cognition (i.e., what you see is what you get).  In fact, as one of Criss Angel’s consultants, Banachek, exclaims, “I think that people at home would be very surprised to find out that what they think might be illusion is actually reality, and what they think is reality, might actually be illusion.  Criss is happy to blur that area, he wants people to wonder about what he’s doing.  Because that makes good magic.  If you’re asking questions, he’s doing his job” (Angel, 2005h).  In the end, Criss Angel’s proclamation of “what you see is what you get” is nothing more than a disclaimer for added trickery for the audience.

Of course, this essay is not about how Criss Angel performs his demonstrations.  It is not a manual on revealing the secrets behind the tricks.  Instead, this essay concerns itself with how Criss Angel uses his demonstrations to persuade his audience.  In other words, it concerns itself with the rhetorical strategies used by Criss Angel Chris Angel Symbolto do the following: a) secure his audience’s attention, b) amaze his audience, and c) persuade his audience that his demonstrations are “magic.”  In so doing, this essay intends to suggest that magic is rhetorical, albeit persuasive.  Magic, as exemplified by Criss Angel, is rhetorical since it engages in symbolic action and identification.

Symbolic Action

According to Kenneth Burke, humans are “symbol-using, symbol-making, and symbol-misusing animal[s]” (Burke, 1966, p. 6; 1969, p. 33, 109, 237).  As humans, magicians are no different.  In fact, because magicians need to both entertain and amaze audiences, they are, perhaps, the most profound examples of human symbol-users.  With each trick, or demonstration, magicians use symbols to convey their intention and purpose – namely, to mystify their audience.  As such, Criss Angel does not disappoint.  In numerous ways, he uses symbols – both verbal and nonverbal – to mystify his audiences.  In this way, he uses symbolicity to enhance his magical prowess (Crable, 2003, p. 126).

In the different season one episodes of Mindfreak, Criss Angel displays numerous examples of symbolocity, or symbolic action.  Whether through his explanations of his demonstrations or the demonstrations themselves, Criss Angel exemplifies the symbolicity of a rhetorical act.  In essence, Criss Angel is trying to persuade his audiences that the demonstrations he engages in are real.  As he is fond of saying, “What you see is what you get” (Angel, 2005a, 2005b, 2005c, 2005h).  However, in many demonstrations, Angel fails to remind the audience that what they “see is what they get,” nor does he accentuate the importance of such a philosophy in each instance.  Nevertheless, whether stated explicitly or not, Criss Angel’s demonstrations are typically viewed the way he presents them – i.e., as what he does is what we get.  This means, of course, that some of the demonstrations seen on television may not be a part of Angel’s “what you see is what you get” mantra.

Consequently, Criss Angel uses symbolic action to highlight his demonstrations.  Symbolic action “is the creation (or recreation) of an identity that fits into a culture … symbolic action involves the creation of an integrated world view (or recreation of a culture) and finding a place in that system. Such an accomplishment allows one to ‘feel at home,’ to size up situations, and to avoid epistemological crisis … symbolic action is any strategy for encompassing a situation” (McKercher, 1993).  As such, Criss Angel uses particular symbols in certain situations to provide a certain perspective.  Usually, the perspective involves ordinary situations that perplex the mind.  As Criss is fond of saying, I like “to blur the lines of reality and illusion, I wanted to do a demonstration that would prove that the laws of this physical world can be bent or even broken” (Angel, 2005h).

If symbolic action is how language shapes our realities and perceptions, then many of Criss’s demonstrations do just that.  For example, he uses symbolic action in episode two, “Levitation.”  It utilizes symbolicity, in part, because the idea of levitating connects with the audience.  “The notion of being lighter than air is something that has intrigued every human being for hundreds and hundreds of years” (Kaufman, 2005a).  As Criss says, “I’m going to try to bug some people here in the park” and then he levitates himself in the park (2005b). One person in the audience says, “oh my God, how did he do that?”  The image of his levitation in a public setting creates the perception that he has mystical powers.  There are no visible wires, no noticeable props, no apparent gimmicks.  The demonstration appears real, although we know that there must be something to the trick.  In fact, “It’s something that the street audience, the people who are right there and if you were there you’d see it too, take place in front of your very eyes” (Cohn, 2005).

In another episode, “Super Human,” Criss Angel engages in symbolic action by using symbolic images to create the perception that he has super-human strength. The finale demonstration has Criss lifting a taxi cab in Las Vegas.  Before that, however, he asks several spectators on the street to line-up and consecutively push each other on the shoulders in an effort to push him over.  Even with ten people (mostly burly men), they cannot push Criss over.  One participant says, “It’s like pushing a wall” (Angel, 2005g).  As he ambiguously explains the process, Criss says, “your mind controls your body, and what doesn’t make sense to some people makes sense to others” (Angel, 2005g).  The image of him lifting a taxi also creates the perception that his super-human strength is a reality, hence symbolic action.  Criss explains, “I wanted to accomplish something that looked  to be completely impossible for someone with my weight to be able to do and hopefully that demonstration will inspire others to be able to fulfill their dreams that might seem impossible at that very moment” (Angel, 2005g).  This is important, as Criss indicates, since “If you dream it, you can achieve it,” and later he says, “I’m committed to do things that people don’t think are possible” (Angel, 2005g).

Symbolic action, as has already been described, is a process by which we look at language to inform us of meanings laden within the linguistic code.  In other words, it is the process we use to ascertain meaning in the complex symbol-using process.  What we understand may or may not be a simple perceptual process of the conglomeration of signs.

As such, the symbolic action expressed in Criss Angel’s demonstrations reveals that magic utilizes symbols.  Whether it is words or nonverbal gestures, the magician incorporates symbols for his/her ultimate effect. Of course, the magician also needs to manipulate the audience’s perception of the symbolic context around them.  As Criss Angel suggests, “An illusion exploits the way you visually process something” (Angel, 2007, p. 158). This is particularly true since magic is the “audacious individual use of existing powerful symbols” (O’Keefe, 1982, p. 73). In other words, the symbols used in an illusion are merely a distraction so that the ultimate symbol(s) – the climax of the illusion – demonstrate the importance of a perception of reality.  As Burke posits, “Even if any given terminology is a reflection of reality, by its very nature as a terminology it must be a selection of reality; and to this extent it must function as a deflection of reality” (Burke, 1966, p. 45).  Hence, magic, if done properly, is merely a deflection of reality, and, as such, is only a symbolic perception of one’s (i.e., audience member’s) conception of reality.

Identification

Criss Angel uses identification in the first episode in season one of Mindfreak. Criss, who seemingly is being burned on Freemont Street (one of the busiest streets in Las Vegas), lies down on the pavement after being burned for over 30 seconds, and then the body disappears and we see Criss as one of the aids who is using a fire extinguisher to put out the fire.  He replaces the victim with the rescuer. As Criss states, “I like to play with what people’s fears are; I like to confront those for people, and people have a fear of being burned alive” (2005a).

This is a sentiment that we hear as well in a later episode, called “Building Walk,” where Criss walks down 50 stories of the Aladdin hotel to confront the fear of heights (Angel, 2005h).

A second example of identification occurs in the fourth episode, entitled “SUV Nail Bed.”  The show, among other things, focuses on Criss lying on a bed of eight-inch nails while an SUV is slowly driven over him.  During the commentary leading up to the stunt, Criss says, “I don’t think of pain as most people would probably perceive it … Pain is beautiful thing, when you feel pain, you know you’re alive” (Angel, 2005d).  A little later he says, “Pain is just something that you can overcome” (Angel, 2005d).  The idea that he endures pain as a form of identifying with his audience seems apparent enough.  Before the SUV demonstration, Criss approaches some folks on the street.  He then swallows needles and thread and then pulls them out of his belly button.  The crowd makes comments such as “oh my god,” “oh God that’s crazy,” “that was nuts,” and “I’m freaked out” (Angel, 2005d).  The perceived physical act of pulling needles through one’s flesh clearly illustrates the endurance of pain.  Taking it to another level, the SUV nail demonstration heightens the perception of conquering pain.  As Criss states toward the end of the show, “Failing equals death, so I have no margin for error” (Angel, 2005d).

In another episode, the “Wine Barrel Escape,” Criss Angel is essentially paying an homage to Harry Houdini since he will be padlocked in a wine barrel several stories in the air. As he prepares for the demonstration, Criss Angel tells the audience that the water is too cold and his muscles couldn’t function, so he asks for warmer water.  Lance Burton, who is narrating this episode, says this “isn’t the stunt to try when you don’t have full control of your body” (Burton, 2005).  This all adds to the suspense of the demonstration.  And, to add to the suspense even more, after they initially raise the wine barrel, they bring it down after Criss gave the “abort” signal because, as he says, “a line got caught” which made his wrists get “crushed” (Angel, 2005c).  Lance Burton says this is incredible because Criss Angel had the “presence of mind” to make the call (Burton, 2005). This helps the identification with the audience, as it did in Houdini’s day, because it resonates with the audience’s perception of fear.  As Criss Angel states, “Houdini had this profound effect on people because he connected to them on an emotional level” (Angel, 2005c).  As such, Criss Angel, too, impacts the audience on an emotional, albeit fearful, level.

In another episode, “Buried Alive,” Criss Angel is literally placed into a coffin and buried six-feet under.  Criss remarks, “We’re going to actually have a POV camera in there so that people at home can actually experience  what it feels like to be buried alive” (Angel, 2005e).  Like his other shows, Criss portrays the conquering of basic fears.  Scholars have documented that being buried alive is one of the most basic and dreaded of all fears (Bondeson, 2001).  In this way, Criss Angel is identifying with his audience on a very primal level.  As Banachek, a Mindfreak consultant and accomplished mentalist, remarks, “If something goes wrong, he’s definitely dead” (Banachek, 2005a).  Thus, the fear of dying, especially by being buried alive, triggers an emotional response from the audience.

In two different episodes – “Hellstromism” and “Blind” – Criss Angel demonstrates that muscle and mind reading are crucial to everyday activities of a magician.  In “Hellstromism,” Criss needs to locate certain objects through the touch of a participant who knows where the objects exist.  In “Blind,” Criss relies on Mandi Moore to help him drive a car blind-folded. Of course, he also asks her to think of a place in Los Angeles, without his knowledge, and he drives the car to that location.  In “Hellstromism,” Criss argues that “Muscle reading is basically the ability to actually determine what’s somebody’s thinking by the way their muscles are reacting” (Angel, 2005f).  Later in the episode, noted Mindfreak consultant and Criss Angel friend, Banachk suggests, “A mentalist is somebody who performs magic of the mind, we appear to be psychic, we appear to move objects, read people’s minds, who really get into people’s minds” (Banachek, 2005b, “Prediction”). As a result, as Banachek suggests in a different episode, “the skill of getting into people’s heads is tricky.  It’s so hard, and he has a natural ability.  Creating that vulnerable moment for people so that they really think you’re getting into their head, allows you to truly get into their heads” (Banachek, 2005c).  Thus, Criss Angel uses his powers of mental manipulation to identify with his audience.  By claiming to be able to read people’s minds, Criss provides the perception that he has unique powers that enable him to understand the condition of other people.  This is, perhaps, the quintessence of identification.

As in some of his other shows, Criss Angel uses his illusion of walking down 50 stories of the Aladdin hotel/casino as a demonstration of his ability to conquer another fear – the fear of heights.  In “Building Walk,” Criss literally is shown as walking down the building of the Aladdin.  In one way, this is a form of identification because many people dream to walk up or down a building – much like Spiderman.  As Dale Hindman, the president of the Magic Castle, suggests, “Criss is doing what Harry Houdini did.  Know that that’s what your audiences want, and then go after them with a vengeance and make it public, and do it better than the next guy.  Harry Houdini did that all the time” (Hindman, 2005).  On the other hand, Criss is identifying with his audience, yet again, by confronting a fear – in this case, the fear of heights.  According to Criss, “With ‘Building Walk’ specifically, I try to address people’s fears.  What I’m trying to do is overcome other people’s fears, and hopefully they’ll get the ‘how the hell did he do that’ factor in there” (Angel, 2005h).  In a related way, Richard Kaufman, the publisher of Genii magazine, argues, “most people don’t like to dangerous things themselves, but they like to watch other people do dangerous things.  There’s that aspect of voyeurism that people find intriguing” (Kaufman, 2005b). Yet again, Criss is identifying with the audience because his demonstration deals with a common human fear.  As he claims in the episode, “I think when you confront your fears, you grow as a person.  People everyday don’t live life to its fullest because they’re concerned about getting on planes, they can’t get out of their house, they can’t go on an elevator – they’re so many things that people fear.  So, for me if I can help one person to live their life to the fullest, that means a lot to me” (Angel, 2005h).

Once again, in “Blind,” Criss Angel confronts people’s fears of sensory deprivation.  With taped coins around his eyes in addition to a solid black blindfold, Criss drives Mandi Moore’s care through Los Angeles to a destination of her choosing, but without his knowledge (Angel, 2005i).  Luke Jermay, a Mindfreak consultant, argues, “I don’t believe Criss is psychic; I believe he’s a very skilled performer with a toolbox of techniques that he uses to produce the illusions that he does” (Jermay, 2005).  Nevertheless, even if Criss Angel does not possess mystical powers, his ability to navigate through crisis situations, while appearing to be blind, yet again resonates with the audience who fears losing their own sight.  In this way, Criss identifies with his audience, by means of his own magical demonstrations, in a way that signals his unique abilities that transcend the common person’s basic fears.

As we have seen, Criss Angel attempts to draw his audience into his demonstrations.  Whether it is in the street or on a more massive demonstration of an illusion, Criss Angel tries to bring his audience into his artistic creation.  As Criss stipulates in his book, “When I perform, I use my power, my gifts, my art to help people escape from the ordinary into the world of the extraordinary.  I have the power to help them forget their problems, if only for a few moments” (Angel, 2007, p. 149). The point, of course, is not only to identify with one’s audience, but also to connect with them on a basic, emotional level.  Criss agues that he is able “to take people to places they would never otherwise experience.  The emotional connection is like a passageway to a private world – my private world.  Fantasy and the great unknown have always fascinated people … The wonderment, the unexpected, the moment of ‘wow’ is something I live for” (Angel, 2007, p. 126).  Of course, the “amazement” factor is only part of the equation.  Criss Angel, undoubtedly, wants to “wow” his audience.  However, like most magicians, Criss Angel is also concerned with identifying with the audience in a special, unique way.  For Angel, this connection entails a purpose that signifies that a single person can overcome a particular hardship.  Much like Houdini, Criss Angel tries to overcome the constraints that many people feel that oppress them.  In fact, as Criss argues, “I loved Houdini’s primary message. If I can get out of this situation, you can get out of yours” (Angel, 2007, p. 89). In this way, Criss Angel identifies with his audience in a very important way – he exemplifies the ability to overcome hardship and tribulation.  The capacity to conquer fears and fortitudes is a magician’s sign that he/she is able to transcend the average conundrum.  As a result, they signify that anyone, including the common person, can overcome such difficulties themselves.

Conclusions

Criss Angel provides us a unique opportunity to see how magic and rhetoric intersect.  While not revealing any of his magic secrets, this essay acknowledges Angel’s hard work and unique magical abilities – both on-screen and off.  Furthermore, this paper identifies several different ways that magic is rhetorical.  In some ways, the magical performance is magical in the way it is performed (Steinmeyer, 2003). In other ways, the words the magician uses while performing the act are important (Angel, 2007; Covino, 1992; Steinmeyer, 2003).  In any case, the “trick” or “act” itself in magic is persuasive since it captivates the audience’s attention and convinces them that the trick or act is part of reality.

What is illusion and what is “real” is open to debate.  That is the magician’s trade – to blur reality with illusion. According to Paul Draper, a former consultant to Criss Angel’s Mindfreak, “Magicians provide physical and tangible representations of the miraculous that fools all of our senses. Audiences can take many meanings from this to fit their personal needs and beliefs” (Draper, 2007).  Thus, conjurer’s use the skills of the trade to convince the audience that what is impossible is possible, what is unrealistic is real.

Given the paucity of studies that examine the intersection between rhetoric and magic, this paper treads new territory.  It also provides an opportunity for those interested in the art of magic and the art of rhetoric to see how both can mutually reinforce the other.  And this is really the beauty of a study like this – both objects of analysis can reinforce the other.  In essence, the rhetorical possibilities as well as the rhetorical prowess of magic can illuminate not only the essence of persuasion, but also the practical effects of symbolic influence.

Of course, much more investigation can occur regarding the relationship between magic and Burke.  While Burke argues that that magic is, at least in some ways, rhetorical, he never goes so far as to suggest the manner or methods in which magic is rhetorical.  However, for our purposes, Burke could prove to be instrumental in additional rhetorical studies.  As he says, “By the ‘symbolic’ or ‘sympotmatic’ nature of terms (in the strictly psychoanalytic sense) we mean their significance, not as defined in a sheerly lexical context (as in a dictionary) but as secretly infused with some ‘repressed’ or ‘forgotten’ context of situation that was in some way ‘traumatic’” (Burke, 1966, p. 359).  We could argue that magic is one of those situations.  At the very least, the performative art of magic could be the “nature” or “situation” of rhetorical action.  In this way, Burke offers us the possibility of future research in the area of magic and rhetoric.

Based on Criss Angel, I believe we can make the argument that magic is rhetorical – it uses symbols and images to frame our sense of reality based on illusion, it embraces symbols to identify with us as the audience, and it persuades us that what is occurring is real.  What is central to this discussion is the intersection of image and meaning.  While we haven’t described in much detail the importance of message or meaning in this discussion, we cannot, nevertheless, overlook it.  As Burke describes, “meaning and symbol are not dependent as things on context; they are relations, not objects. Ignoring this point, seeing meaning and symbols as things ,has allowed cultural analysts to erect a distinction between symbolic structures and concrete structures; to differentiate religion, myth, art – held to be “essentially” symbolic forms – from economics, politics, kinship, or everyday living” (Gusfield & Michalowicz, 1984, p. 418).  This is even more pronounced when we see what David Devant – the notable magician of the turn of the century of the 1900s – argues that, “I regard a conjurer as a man who can hold the attention of his audience by telling them the most impossible fairy tales, and by persuading them into believing that those stories are true by illustrating them with his hands, or with any object that may be suitable for the purpose” (Emphasis added, David Devant, quoted by Steinmeyer, 2003, p. 93).  Therefore, the magician uses their talents to connect with the audience.  In fact, it is crucial that the magician does so in order to relate to the audience in a manner that resonates with the audience in a key way to connect them with the acts on the stage or on television. In essence, then, “Magic is a social act whose medium is persuasive discourse, and so it must entail the complexities of social interaction, invention, communication, and composition” (Covino, 1992, p. 363).

While magic is rearing its ugly head in movies like The Prestige and The Illusionist, we also see its attraction in performing artists like David Blaine, Hans Klok, and Franz Harary.  Of course, there is also Criss Angel.  As Lance Burton suggests, “Criss [Angel] is going to be written in the history books as one of the great magicians in the 21st century” (Lance Burton, 2005). This may be true, but any good magician or illusionist must understand their audience.  Jim Steinmeyer, one of the most notable and respectable magic historians and trick architects, claims, “When magicians are good at their jobs, it is because they anticipate the way an audience thinks. They are able to suggest a series of clues that guide the audience to the deception. Great magicians don’t leave the audience’s though patterns to chance; they depend on the audience’s bringing something to the table – preconceptions or assumptions that can be naturally exploited” (Steinmeyer, 2003, p. 117). Therefore, the audience is key.  And persuading the audience is central to a magician’s purpose.

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Assessment of ESL Students in the Mixed Classroom Environment by Rose Burt, San Diego State University

Early in the 1970s, as increasingly diverse students were granted access to higher education through measures like the G.I. Bill, the discussion surrounding ESL students in the composition classroom began to note a distinction between how instruction should be designed for English language learners as opposed to instruction for native speakers.  Authors argued that ESL students could not be assessed in the same manner as other students.  Following this assertion, authors such as Ann Raimes posed questions about the relationship of composition instruction to ESL students.  In her 1976 essay, Raimes asked questions like “What do teachers do?” “What is composition?” “What is composition for the ESL student?” and “What is the teacher’s task?”  In the subsequent decades, many authors attempted to answer these questions in books and articles presenting comprehensive arguments about how to instruct students for whom English is a second language, mostly focused on how to structure composition classes designed either specifically for ESL students or for basic writers, with whom ESL students are often grouped.

However, the implication of these questions and the research that followed has changed dramatically in light of recent educational trends.  The ability of college campuses to provide special services for speakers of other languages has been supported as the best means of ensuring success at the post-secondary level.  Yet, according to the Intersegmental Committee of Academic Senates in California, nearly 40% of California K-12 students are from a language minority (ICAS 3).  At the college level, this distinction is perhaps even more predominant: “on some campuses, especially in the CCC system, ESL learners represent a growing majority of students” (ICAS 9).  These numbers don’t include students termed “generation 1.5,” who may have received most formal education in English but still speak another language predominantly outside of school and thus encounter much of the same cultural dissonance as other ESL students.  California’s post-secondary schools are increasingly inclusive of students with mixed language backgrounds, to the extent that it is no longer feasible or advisable to create separate ESL classes for all non-native speakers.[1]

Perhaps now more than ever, it is important to reconsider the questions Raimes asked of all composition teachers.  Given that many of our students will be in traditional composition classrooms without previous or simultaneous separate ESL instruction, we must attempt to address the needs of ESL students without simply forming a dividing line of instruction and assessment between ESL students and native speakers in a mixed classroom.  With an increasingly diverse student body, a definite line would be nearly impossible to fairly draw.  To date, educators and composition theorists have focused mostly on how to prepare the classroom for effectively instructing ESL students, including what prompts to write, how to measure student proficiencies, how to conduct discussions, and what behaviors to avoid.  Despite its educational impact, most of these studies place only tertiary significance on responding to ESL texts, behind fostering an environment sensitive to cultural diversity and communicating clearly.  Achievement of the latter two will directly affect the student performance being assessed, but too little emphasis has yet been placed on how to effectively respond to essays by English language learners.  Even if we create clear, concise prompts that do not presuppose a single cultural-linguistic perspective, how we respond to the essays our students turn in will have a dramatic effect on their perspectives of their own abilities and the writing process.  Rather than assessing ESL students in isolation, we must now question how we will respond to students from many socio-linguistic backgrounds in a traditional (mixed) composition classroom.  In light of this new environment, suggested methods of effective response to and assessment of ESL student texts include discussion of the relationship of culture to language, giving priority to comments on content over surface revisions, ensuring that responses are delivered clearly and require active student engagement, and remaining flexible in assessment techniques.

The Relationship of Culture to Language

With the explosion of cultural studies in the 1990s, composition theorists began to discuss language as both culturally constructed and socially significant.  In composition theory focused on English language learners, the idea that culture and language are interwoven suggests that instructors must read student work with greater attention to potential rhetorical subjectivity.  In 1989, William Grabe and Robert Kaplan published “Writing in a Second Language: Contrastive Rhetoric,” which would later become one of the most often-cited essays by other educators and theorists concerned with composition for ESL students.  In their essay, Grabe and Kaplan claim that writing in English (L2) can only be fairly assessed when compared with the student’s primary language of composition (L1).  They describe the relationship of culture to language in these terms as a confluence of constructed rhetorics: “Contrastive rhetoric predicts that writers composing in different languages will produce rhetorically distinct texts, independent of other causal factors…literacy skills (both reading and writing) are learned…they are culturally (and perhaps linguistically) shaped” (Grabe and Kaplan 264).  If we accept the view that language is socially and culturally constructed, instructors should begin their assessment of ESL student writing by identifying student goals in the target language of communication, discussing conventions of the language of origin and English, and learning about the student’s background culture and language as appropriate.

Each of these methods refrains from any indication that English is superior, as a language or rhetorical strategy.  Couching the approach in these terms, composition instructors are free to discuss with the student why, as a culture, we value expressing ourselves in certain ways without suggesting that the student should give up their first language or culture.  In order to best begin this conversation, Guanjun Cai, Ken Hyland, and Sundem et. al. advocate for instructors to learn about students’ home culture and language and to help the student identify a target language and form of composition.  As Hyland argues, this is a rhetorical method: “Writing is a practice based on expectations: the reader’s chances of interpreting the writer’s purpose are increased if the writer takes the trouble to anticipate what the reader might be expecting based on previous texts they have read of the same kind” (Hyland 149).  As readers, it is important for us to figure out the target audience and to learn as much as we can to become symbolic members of that target audience.  In doing so, we also model for students the rhetorical conventions of English, as we value effective communication as a function of the text’s context.  Discussing the targeted goals of communication will also encourage students to consider the forms and conventions of English without asking them to give up other linguistic ideals.  As Cai asserts, “only such explicit teaching of English discourse ideologies can produce changes in the discourse strategies of ESL students’ writing, because change in language use comes from change in guiding ideologies and expectations” (Cai 183).

As instructors increasingly conscious of the challenges of teaching a diverse student body, we often question the extent to which we should consider unconventional linguistic techniques (otherwise called “errors”) as a function of cultural influences rather than misunderstandings of the reading or conventions of English.  These theorists assert that we can come closest to negotiating and understanding this difference when we learn as much as we can about the students’ own languages and L1 conventions.  There are now many books published to assist instructors in quickly learning key elements of other languages. Sundem, Krieger, and Pikiewicz’s book 10 Languages You’ll Need Most in the Classroom is a tool for just such a study. By and large, these texts are geared towards TESOL or TEFL instructors and K-12 teachers rather than college-level students who already have some level of English proficiency, but they are still useful for a cultural introduction.  Essays focused on college-level instruction often guide instructors through the discourse of students from a single language background.[2]

Even if instructors lack the time to research conventions of literatures in other languages, the first step in responding to student texts begins in considering the target language and form of communication.  In doing so, we model the rhetorical process we want students to engage in, and avoid the blunder of Anglo-American nepotism.  As Land and Whitley remark, we should not promote English as a perfected, singularly-ideal language: “To do so would be to ignore what is happening to our culture and our language: they are becoming more pluralistic, not coincidentally with the rise of English as the world language.  If we are indeed a part of a culture which admits change, this change will obviously appear at the linguistic level because one’s epistemology underlies one’s language” (Land and Whitley 292). Approaching even a first-reading of a student essay with this in mind, we are more likely to perceive the writer’s intentions and to place revision power in the hands of the student rather than the reader.

Tension in Instructor Comments: Global vs. Local Responses

Just as perceptions of the confluence of culture and language have changed with the rise of cultural studies, so have perceptions of the content and methods of appropriate responses to ESL student essays.  The largest shift in composition theory began with educators and social scientists who challenged the current-traditional model of assessment by conducting studies into error correction.  In Raimes’ 1976 essay, she posited: “What does the research tell us?  Not much.  There are some research studies in the teaching of composition to native speakers, but there are hardly any in composition for English as a second language” (Raimes 185).  In contrast, Leki’s Understanding ESL Writers: A Guide for Teachers, published in 1992, cites many studies that could be interpreted as proving that there is little benefit from the standard method of error correction as a means to acquire language.  Interestingly, the scientifically supported method of studying language acquisition, a cognitivist approach to composition theory, evolved to support theories that place more importance on the individual student’s argument and less on the structure of “correct” language determined by the academy, an expressivist approach.  The contest between global and local foci has divided many educators seeking a definitive way to approach student texts, but in the context of ESL writing, critics have (at least theoretically) favored comments on the strength and development of the argument over sentence-level constructions.

There is an outpouring of criticism against sentence-level error correction for ESL student essays, which can be generally grouped into three categories: error correction as counterproductive, error correction as ineffective, and error correction as useful only as an editing technique.  Land and Whitley’s criticism falls into the first two categories.  The concluding section on evaluating student essays begins, “Research suggests that evaluative focus on sentence-level mechanics may be a waste of the teacher’s time…and confusing and even harmful to students” (Land and Whitley 291).  Leki echoes this criticism of error correction as ineffective for language acquisition, though sees some use for grammar at the proofreading level.  She admits, “learning the rules of grammar, punctuation, and so forth is useful only to monitor, or edit, writing, not to create it” (Leki 135).  Furthermore, she asserts that encouraging students to think about sentence construction while they write will significantly extend the amount of time it takes for them to produce a completed text and will reduce the total amount of words they are willing and able to construct (Leki 147).  For Leki, error correction is most effective when it can be done selectively in consideration only of the most prominent and consistent errors that impede understanding, and even then should not precede responses to the content.

Whole books have been written on how to address (or ignore) sentence-level errors in essays by English language learners.[3]  As much as theorists continue to discourage a local focus on language construction, educators continue to seek advice for formulas they can apply to “fix” student writing.  This division between theory and practice is not exclusive to instructors – many students seek surface corrections on their text over rhetorical comments which might strengthen their argument.  To some extent, research suggests that this may be merely a factor of cultural habits interfering with composition pedagogy.  In other words, instructors believe that they should comment more on global issues than local issues, but in practice fall back on marking sentence-level errors.  An alternative interpretation is provided in Montgomery and Baker’s “Teacher-Written Feedback: Student Perceptions, Teacher Self-Assessment, and Actual Teacher Performance:”

The final important insight of this study was that in general teachers gave a substantial amount of local feedback and relatively little global feedback throughout the drafts of the compositions.  Giving feedback in this manner in part conflicts with what the teachers were asked to do at the ELC and what the teachers believed they did. These findings can be interpreted [to mean] that teachers are aware of the needs of the students and recognize that students need a great deal more of local feedback than the teachers have been asked to give. (Montgomery and Baker 94)

In this interpretation, composition theorists and school administrators who rely on composition theory are determined as out of touch with actual student needs.  This interpretation is not well supported even within the essay, and Montgomery and Baker conclude fairly quickly without addressing the issue further.  As such, it is most likely that pedagogy is sound while practice fails, as instructors tire of the time-consuming task of commenting on rhetorical strategy.

In her initial response to what teachers do in the classroom, Raimes emphasized a kind of tension between global content and local structure which she called the “controlled/free dichotomy.”  Controlled assignments ask students to practice structure, while free assignments practice content.  The instructor has a choice between the two, and as she says, “he will emphasize control or freedom, or he will vacillate” (Raimes 165).  The next few decades of composition theory regarding ESL student texts focused highly on developing prompts that would allow for some measure of freedom of content with a specified audience or purpose, thus aiming to negotiate this difference for students somewhat.  When it came to evaluating and commenting on student essays, however, theorists concluded decidedly in favor of addressing content primarily, with sentence-level constructions addressed in a limited format only as a technique for revision.  A content-based, global focus on student essays will provide a better format for encouraging students to write freely to create high quality arguments rather than merely composing correct sentences.  In a classroom with mixed students, this emphasis on the content of the essay over the language construction will also provide a measure of equality.

Methods of Response Delivery

In addition to addressing theories of how to approach evaluation of student writing, many different methods of marking student texts have been offered in ESL composition studies.  These elements vary widely, but are focused directly on fostering clear communication between the instructor and student.  The emphasis is three-fold – clarity, active student engagement, and instructor flexibility are all required for the feedback given to be most effective.

Clarity must be offered in the grading standards as well as comments made on the essay itself.  In a mixed classroom, providing written criteria for evaluations will be most effective in communicating with a linguistically diverse audience.  In her book, Assessing English Language Learners, Lorraine Valdez-Pierce argues that “clearly specified scoring criteria in the form of checklists or scoring rubrics can help ensure that teachers are evaluating each student’s work along the same standards” (Valdez-Pierce 46).  Communicating expectations in writing allows language learners to review the criteria multiple times, and ensures to other students that all work will be assessed fairly.  Other texts, such as New Ways of Classroom Assessment, suggest that alternative assignments might be used to better meet the needs of language learners in a mixed classroom, but still advocates for distributing information about the scoring criteria in advance.  In creating clear rubrics for assessing student work, ESL students are also more likely to be able to do a self- or peer-assessment prior to handing in the draft and in future revisions.  Rubrics that identify what makes an essay strong, effective, or ineffective also allow ESL students to identify areas of strength and areas for improvement without feeling like they are completely missing the mark.  Clear, concise, well-written rubrics aid all students in knowing the standards they will be held to, but are most useful for ESL students who will likely seek to track progress in various categories more than just to receive letter grades.

Clarity is also necessary in the comments marked on the essay.  Many of the suggestions Sundem, Krieger, and Pikiewicz make for speaking to English language learners are appropriate for essay evaluations.  To avoid confusion, they encourage teachers to “converse by pointing to the phrases you wish to communicate” (Sundem et. al. xxii).  This can be done easily on essays as well.  Rather than referring to many sentences, paragraphs, or ideas in end comments, instructors should try to literally draw connections between their comments and the actual student text they are commenting on.  Similarly, the authors suggest that instructors “avoid slang, incorrect usage, and difficult sentence constructions in your own speech.  Whenever possible, strive for clear, concise phrases” (Sundem et. al. xxi).  While this seems intuitive, it is not often done in practice, and is a useful reminder of our need to be culturally sensitive and to act as models of our own instruction.

Equally important is the need for students to be actively engaged in the feedback process.  In an essay on the psychological reactions of students to instructor feedback, Icy Lee argues that “students tend to be viewed as mere recipients—when in fact they can be and should be active and proactive agents in the feedback process” (Lee 144-145).  Providing students with opportunities to work with and against instructor and peer feedback is essential to maintaining student authority over the text as well as absorption of the writing process.  For ESL students who are already encountering numerous challenges to their traditional mode of communication, the need for students to remain in a multi-sided dialogue about their writing is even more important.  In this regard, comments on ESL texts will be most effective when they are a part of a revision process requiring multiple drafts and that form questions or respond rhetorically rather than altering what students have written (Paulus 265; Leki 143).

As much as possible, comments should also pertain to the target goals established by the instructor and student early in the term.  This can be done in a number of ways, and will necessarily be determined on a case-by-case basis between instructors and students.  However, these goals are most likely to fit general categories such as discipline-specific research or expository essays, personal/creative writing, or business correspondence.  While most students are likely to identify a targeted genre within these categories in English, some students may also seek to further their knowledge of the written conventions of another language’s literature.  In either case, it may well be that students are expected to complete assignments that are outside of their targeted genre or language.  Whether or not this is the context of responding to the student essay, instructors should encourage students to identify methods that will be most effective to address the prompt, if no flexibility in the assignment is otherwise provided.  These methods need not be considered solely in English.  As Leki says, “thinking in L1 should not necessarily be avoided while composing in L2” (Leki 148).  Effective responses to ESL student texts will encourage students to consider the rhetorical situation they are writing in as a comparison to their target goals and to those of the instructor.

Perhaps most importantly, instructors responding to ESL student essays will need to stay flexible in their assessment techniques.  Instructors should expect misunderstandings and cultural dissonance even in the situations they feel best prepared for.  As an example, Hafernik, Messerschmitt, and Vandrick discuss perceptions of cheating and plagiarism by ESL students.  As they argue, cheating is a culturally-constructed concept which is not universally defined.  In this respect, they recommend that “misunderstandings can be ameliorated by classroom discussion of the cultural differences and the ethical and practical considerations of switching to or adopting the American mode of writing” (Hafernik et. al. 49).  These authors do not suggest that misunderstandings will be avoided completely through such discussion, merely that they might be mitigated through this attempt.  Comments on the use of sources and appropriate citations should be considered in this light.  In general, instructors must be aware that identifications of error, dishonesty, or even stylistic changes may be ill-received or misconceived.

Lastly, instructors will need to continue to mix encouragement with constructive criticism.  As Coombe, Folse, and Huldey quote in A Practical Guide to Assessing English Language Learners, “Research indicates that teacher written feedback is highly valued by second language writers… Although positive remarks are motivating and highly valued by students, Hyland points out that too much praise or positive commentary early on in a writer’s development can make students complacent and discourage revision” (Coombe et. al. 85).  Negotiating the difference between levels of encouragement and problem-posing, rhetorically-driven criticism requires a great degree of flexibility and awareness on the part of the instructor.  It is unlikely that instructors with high numbers of students will be able to gauge the kind of response all their students need, so it will be most helpful in a mixed classroom setting if instructors offer both comments of encouragement and constructive criticism to all of their students, ESL and native speakers alike.

Conclusion

Not surprisingly, “nearly one-third of a classroom teacher’s time is spent assessing and evaluating student performance” (Valdez-Pierce vii).  In increasingly diverse classroom settings, particularly for post-secondary schools in California, this time will be spent not considering how to divide instruction methods between ESL students and native speakers but rather how to motivate English language learners and encourage them to succeed along with their peers.  Through careful approaches to understanding and teaching the English language as something culturally constructed and pluralistic, instructors can create an open, comfortable environment for ESL students to learn.  By taking a global approach to evaluating student writing and by adhering to standards of clarity, student engagement, and instructor flexibility, instructors may also lessen the confusion, cultural dissonance, and irrelevance that ESL students often feel in the composition classroom.

With the advent of hybrid courses and distance education, the ability of instructors to use these approaches becomes especially significant.  Without verbal cues, instructors may have an even more difficult time ascertaining the cultural and language background of their students.  By maintaining these approaches to commenting on student texts, instructors will have a much better chance of meeting the needs of ESL and generation 1.5 students, even if the students remain unidentified.  By promoting instruction that grants students greater control over their writing goals and incorporation of feedback, ESL students will be able to learn not only the conventions of English language and rhetoric, but will also gain metacognitive awareness of how to negotiate differences between languages and cultures, a skill which cannot be underestimated in a rapidly globalizing society.  In an echo of Raimes, Leki asks “As teachers deal with ESL writing, then, the question arises…what exactly do we want our students to be able to do in English?” (Leki 154).  With the aid of their peers, instructors, and the institution, we want all students to gain the skills necessary to learn as much as they can.  By maintaining pluralistic cultural and linguistic environments in the composition classroom, students have the opportunity to contribute to a collective body of knowledge and shared experience rather than acting as receptors of somewhat dissonant information.  We want our students to be able to become active members of the discourse community in English.  By broadening our cultural understandings and responding to ESL student essays in a way that facilitates dialogue rather than passive reception, we are encouraging our students to engage in learning how to learn, and opening the door for their contribution to the academic community.

REFERENCES

  1. Brown, J.D., ed. New Ways of Classroom Assessment. Bloomington, IL: Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages, Inc., 1998.
  2. Cai, Guanjun. “Texts in Contexts: Understanding Chinese Students’ English Compositions.” Evaluating Writing: The Role of the Teachers’ Knowledge about Text, Learning, and Culture. Charles R. Cooper and Lee Odell, eds. Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English, 1999. 279-297.
  3. Carroll, Pamela Sissi, Frances Blake, Rose Ann Camalo, and Smadar Messer. “When Acceptance Isn’t Enough: Helping ESL Students Become Successful Writers.” The English Journal 85.8 (Dec 1996): 25-33.
  4. Coombe, Christine, Keith Folse, and Nancy Huldey. “Assessing Writing.” A Practical Guide to Assessing English Language Learners. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2007. 69-88.
  5. ESL Students in California Public Higher Education. Government publication by the Intersegmental Committee of Academic Senates. Sacramento, CA: Academic Senate for California Community Colleges, 2006.
  6. Ferris, Dana. “Preparing Teachers to Respond to Student Writing.” Journal of Second Language Writing 16.3 (Sept 2007): 165-193.
  7. Grabe, William and Robert B. Kaplan. “Writing in a Second Language: Contrastive Rhetoric.” Richness in Writing: Empowering ESL Students. Donna M. Johnson and Duane H. Roen, eds. New York: Longman, 1989. 263-283.
  8. Hafernik, Johnnie Johnson, Dorothy S. Messerschmitt, and Stephanie Vandrick. Ethical Issues for ESL Faculty: Social Justice in Practice. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc., 2002.
  9. Hinkel, Eli. Second Language Writers’ Text: Linguistic and Rhetorical Features. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2002.
  10. Hyland, Ken. “Genre Pedagogy: Language, Literacy, and L2 Writing Instruction.” Journal of Second Language Writing 16.3 (Sept 2007): 148-164.
  11. Ibrahim, Nizar and Susan Penfield. “Dynamic Diversity: New Dimensions in Mixed Composition Classes.” ELT Journal 59.3 (July 2005): 217-225.
  12. Land, Jr., Robert E. and Catherine Whitley. “Evaluating Second Language Essays in Regular Composition Classes: Towards a Pluralistic U.S. Rhetoric. Richness in Writing: Empowering ESL Students. Donna M. Johnson and Duane H. Roen, eds. New York: Longman, 1989.  284-293.
  13. Lee, Icy. “Student Reactions to Teacher Feedback in Two Hong Kong Secondary Classrooms.” Journal of Second Language Writing 17.3 (Sept 2008): 144-164.
  14. Leki, Ilona. Understanding ESL Writers: A Guide for Teachers. Portsmouth, NH: Boynton/Cook, 1992.
  15. Montgomery, Julie L. and Wendy Baker. “Teacher-Written Feedback: Student Perceptions, Teacher Self-Assessment, and Actual Teacher Performance.” Journal of Second Language Writing 16.2 (June 2007): 82-99.
  16. Paulus, Trena M. “The Effect of Peer and Teacher Feedback on Student Writing.” Journal of Second Language Writing 8.3 (Sept 1999): 265-289.
  17. Raimes, Ann. “Composition: Controlled by the Teacher, Free for the Student.” On TESOL ’76. John F. Fanselow and Ruth H. Crymes, eds. Washington, DC: Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages, 1976. 183-194.
  18. Sundem, Garth, Jan Krieger, and Kristi Pikiewicz. 10 Languages You’ll Need Most in the Classroom: A Guide to Communicating with English Language Learners and Their Families. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press, 2008.
  19. Valdés, Guadalupe and Patricia Anloff Sanders. “Latino ESL Students and the Development of Writing Abilities.” Evaluating Writing: The Role of the Teachers’ Knowledge about Text, Learning, and Culture. Charles R. Cooper and Lee Odell, eds.  Urbana, IL: National Council of Teachers of English, 1999. 249-278.

Valdez-Pierce, Lorraine. Assessing English Language Learners. Washington, DC: National Educa



[1] This is a growing reality, though not necessarily an unfortunate one.  Mixed classrooms will not inevitably detract from effective education, as Ibrahim and Penfield argue in “Dynamic Diversity: New Dimensions in Mixed Composition Classes.”

[2] In addition to Cai’s essay, Valdés and Sanders’ “Latino ESL Students and the Development of Writing Abilities” is a useful example.

[3] For more information on specific semantics and sentence-level errors common to ESL students, see Second Language Writers’ Texts by Eli Hinkel, with a foreword from Robert Kaplan.

Evangelical Christianity Online: Eliciting Material World Responses in the Cyberworld by Erin Flewelling, San Diego State University

On Good Friday, one of the most significant days in the Christian calendar, when Christians commemorate Jesus’ death on the cross, LifeChurch.tv’s Church Online gathered for an online global prayer outreach for upcoming Easter Services.  Essentially, individuals from around the world—who understand each other through the magic of translation software—logged onto http://babelwith.me and prayed together for friends and family who had not yet begun a relationship with Jesus.  This community of people is serious about the role they play in fulfilling the mission of God on earth, that is, connecting men and women to God and to each other in spite of the fact that most of them have never met in person.

Church Online is associated with LifeChurch.tv, a multisite evangelical Christian congregation that relies heavily on technology to expand its reach from headquarters in Oklahoma City, across all of Oklahoma, Texas, New York, Tennessee, and Florida.  Although most elements of services at their physical campuses are live, the teaching portion is a live feed or a prerecorded segment, depending on service time.  Their large staff also produces high quality supplementary videos, artwork, and curriculum which they offer free of charge to other churches along with sermon outlines and use of sermon videos.  They were also one of the first churches to venture into the internet campus world with the launch of services on Easter 2006.  Basically this allowed them to extend their message anywhere on the planet with an internet connection.  In a 2009 article published in Leadership Journal, Bobby Gruenewald, Pastor of Innovational Leadership at Lifechurch.tv, estimated that approximately 50,000 unique IP addresses log onto services every week, with about one in ten staying for the entire service.

I get a lot of questions when I tell people I’m researching online Christian churches.  They want to know if an online church can actually function as a church.  Certainly, the Internet is a great informational tool, and nobody is surprised about the proliferation of religious websites, but the idea that people can form spiritual connections over the internet seems counterintuitive.   However, the Internet presents enormous opportunity for evangelicals, and we shouldn’t be surprised that churches would want to levy that technology.  Stephen O’Leary reminds us that as people spend more and more time online, it “would indeed be an anomaly if a cultural force of this magnitude were not to find expression in the newly developing world of computer networks” (282).

The adoption of any technology, however, should raise questions about the effect of that technology on the people who use it.  Heidi Campbell writes that fears have “emerged that online religion [will] cause people to abandon their pews in exchange for worship via the keyboard and computer screen, further effecting the steady decline of “real world” church attendance” (xvi), and Brenda Brasher suggests that the “chief worry is that engagement with the Internet could reconfigure the traditions that technologically adept, spiritually committed people have gone online to maintain” (xii).  Others are more optimistic, but essentially, as Dawson and Cowan remind us, the “consequences for religion are yet largely unknown,” and we need to ask how this “new way of being religious” will make a difference in the way “religion is conceived and practiced in the future.”

Morten Høsgaard states the obvious when he says that religion cannot have an essence or existence independent of human existence, and that “allegedly pure cyber-religious sites are . . . produced and used by persons who do not live their entire lives ‘on the screen.’”  In other words, people who participate in online religious websites are real people living in a real world.  This way of thinking is compatible with evangelical Christianity, which argues against a purely propositional or virtual belief system, stating that faith without works is dead.   Evangelical Christian churches have very specific goals–life transformation, becoming like Christ, and sharing the story of Jesus with others.  The Christian faith is more than propositional; it is transformational.  Craig Van Gelder, professor of congregational mission at Luther Seminary in St. Paul argues it is “important . . . to keep returning to the foundations of what it means to be the church of Jesus Christ in the world” (1).  Indeed, he claims that the “the primary issue confronting the church in our context today “is the need to re-examine and re-envision what it means to be the church” (vii).  That includes the innovative use of technology.

Gruenewald, LifeChurch.tv’s Pastor of Innovation, says, “Our desire is to leverage technology to connect people to Christ, to each other, and to their community” (Hall 48).  These are the same goals as they have for their physical campuses.  But can an online church really do that?  Can an online church achieve the same things as a church with a physical presence?  And can decisions made in the cyberworld actually change the way individuals live in the material world?  LifeChurch.tv’s Church believes that they can.

In an attempt to fulfill its goals, Church Online has incorporated layers of rhetorical strategies, designed to take any cyberworld response into the material world.  In examining some of those strategies, we’ll look at three major elements of Church Online: embedded features on the website; the chat feature that is ongoing throughout services, enabling guests to interact with each other; and the actual recorded worship experiences.  Next, we’ll examine appeals made to extend the message of life transformation from the cyberworld into the world in which we all live.  We will also discuss the development of ethos and the use of repetition to effect life transformation.

First, the embedded features on the website allow visitors to the website to explore Church Online 24 hours per day, whether a service is going on or not.  Guests to the website can link to Facebook, they can “tell their stories” on a form, request additional information or “Live Prayer” in a private chat setting.  They can also access a blog written by Church Online staff and volunteers, who write about issues relevant to the online community including service opportunities through Church Online as well as opportunities to serve in the real world, and the importance of belonging to a Life Group.  One blog discussed how online communities deal with a death.  There was even a humorous video depicting Church Online chat conversations, which actually seem pretty odd at times.

The chat component of the Church Online worship experience opens approximately 30 minutes prior to the service starting and extends for approximately 15 minutes after the service ends.  The forum can be distracting for individuals who want to focus on the sermon without interacting with others.  As I said, the chats can seem odd as multiple conversations go on simultaneously – individuals will log on with their own agendas, their own theologies, or looking for dates.  However, after observing these chats for the last month, I understood that this chat component is a major way that relationships form at Church Online, and increases the likelihood that participants will respond to the messages found on the site.  I began to see many of the same people on the chat.  A few were present every time I logged in; others logged on to the same services week after week.  Listening in to their conversations, it was clear that these people had “history” together.  The forum is moderated by volunteers: a captain, an admin, hosts, and prayer volunteers.  They all receive video training on a password-protected portion of the website.  Volunteers greet every guest who signs into the chat, and from time to time they suggest ways for guests to make the Church Online worship experience more comfortable, such as turning off the chat or accessing sermon notes.  Volunteers respond to questions and engage guests in thinking about messages communicated through the recorded segments.  Frequently, one of the volunteers will send out Tweets with essential questions asked within the sermon or they’ll reference major points made in the sermon.  These Tweets become part of the chat.  For example, during week two of Red Letter Day, volunteers regularly sent out the statement, “Withholding forgiveness can hold you captive.  How can you truly forgive and be free?”  As guests chat, they engage these questions, and as a result the appeals made in the prerecorded segment are repeated throughout the Church Online experience.

The prerecorded portion includes a variety of segments.  Every service begins with a greeting from a campus pastor in the United States or from one of their global partners.  In the last few weeks we have been greeted by a couple from Northern Ireland, a pastor from Australia, a pastor from South Africa, a Czechoslovakian woman as well as a lay pastor from Atlanta.  These greetings connect viewers around the world and emphasize that although Life Church headquarters are in Oklahoma, the church itself has a global presence.  A second greeting comes from Brandon Donaldson, the Church Online Campus Pastor.  The worship band sings three songs.  This is a highly energetic band, and the music has broad appeal, featuring acoustic and electric guitars, bass, and drums.  Song lyrics flash across the screen, and guests can link to the band’s Facebook site if they want, choose to follow the lead vocal on Twitter, or purchase songs through i-Tunes.

Topical sermons emphasize practical real world application.  In the three sermons I transcribed, we were urged to trust God during difficult times, we were challenged to forgive, and we were asked to serve others out of love.  Past sermon series have focused on marriage, raising children, and financial issues.  Scripture appears on the screen, below the speaker, and guests can access the sermon outline by clicking on an icon.  They can take notes on the outline and if they write in their email address, Church Online staff will send a copy of the notes. The pastor wears jeans, a T-shirt, maybe a blazer, but never a tie.  In fact, you won’t find a suit and tie anywhere on this website or during these services.  These are real people, living in a real world, and guests to the website can identify with them.  Sermons often includes video testimony from church members who tell portions of their life story to illustrate the sermon points.  For example, in Red Letter Day #1, a supplemental video featured three individuals from different ethnic backgrounds and different ages.  Each sat alone on a red bench in front of a white background, looking directly into the camera, essentially into the eyes of the Church Online participants:

  • The first, a young white female, was nearly in tears as she spoke: “Hi, my name is Lisa, and in July 2008, my husband and I went in for a routine ultrasound at 20 weeks, and we found out then that our baby didn’t have a heartbeat.”
  • Next, a middle-aged white male spoke: “Hi, my name is Scott.  About, it was early morning, I got a phone call, and it was about my grandson being taken to the hospital.  And he was my little buddy.  He was the world to me.  I have other grandkids, but he was special.”
  • Finally, a twenty-something black female told her story:  “Hi, my name is Deidre, and, um— my father sexually abused me until I was eight years old. And he also beat the living daylights out of my mother.”

They continued to alternate, telling portions of their stories, describing a variety of situations where individuals might ask God what was going on.  After the pastor completed his sermon, a follow-up video ensued, and these individuals returned to tell their stories about how God breathed light into darkness.  Videos like this one function in a variety of ways.  Obviously, there is a pathos appeal as these individuals tell their stories, as we focus on their faces and hear the pain in their voices.  We are likely to have experienced something similar, or at least we know someone who has, and so we identify with these individuals.  In addition, these videos allow us to see points of the message applied to real life situations, like the ones we experience on a daily basis.

One of the most powerful elements to establishing Church Online as a legitimate spiritual community is the construction of ethos.  In On Rhetoric, Aristotle writes that if a speaker seems to be a “certain kind of person and . . . his hearers suppose him to be disposed toward them in a certain way . . .” (112), then the rhetoric will be more effective in persuading hearers to respond in a particular way.  In the case of Church Online, not only do the various speakers need to develop credibility, but the website itself and the various uses of technology must be constructed in such a way as to build trustworthiness.  Aristotle cites “three reasons why speakers . . . are persuasive” and listed “practical wisdom . . virtue . . and good will” (112) and certainly these are evidenced in the presentation as teaching pastors and lead musicians share personal challenges in living out their marriages, raising children, or dealing with economic issues.  They demonstrate a strong desire to live good lives, positively impacting and influencing their communities.  In the chat, captains, hosts, and admin open the chat by welcoming anyone attending the service.  They greet each guest who logs on, and they respond with caring tones.

In her rhetorical analysis of the websites of congregational churches, Lynne Raab notes that “high quality photos and graphics” which “demonstrated . . . a tight and coherent design . . . conveyed to some audiences a sense of authority and credibility based on quality, increasing their persuasive appeal” (153).  Indeed, this is a professional, quality site.  Videos feature multiple camera angles, lights, effects.  This is as good as anything seen on television.  If participants arrive before service begins, a time clock, counting down the hours before the next service starts.  Remarkably, participants can converse with people in multiple countries through translation software. All of these professional qualities convey a sense of trustworthiness and credibility that increases the persuasive appeal of the messages LifeChurch communicates.

A map of the world identifies all the countries logged onto any service, further legitimizing the experience, as does the presence of people from various cultures in the chat.  Furthermore, the existence of thirteen physical campuses across five states lends credibility, constructing an identity that extends from the cyber world into the physical world.  During the music segment, the cameras primarily focus on the worship band, but from time to time, it pans back, showing the congregation standing, engaged in worship.  The effect of these shots is to connect Church Online participants to real people, engaged in a live service.  When participants worship with Church Online, they are part of something that extends beyond the Internet.  Lives are being changed, decisions are being made, and communities are being formed as Church Online partners with churches across the United States and even around the world in building the Kingdom of God.  Indeed, last fall Church Online tangibly partnered with LifeChurch.tv’s physical campuses to put together Life Packs containing items to help people meet basic needs.  Campuses across the United States chose where to deliver Life Packs, and individuals involved with Church Online could choose to deliver them to their own community or to be part of sending Life Packs to a school in Pakistan.

All of these elements lead to a sense that Life Church can be trusted, that LifeChurch.tv has the authority to speak for God.  This lays a foundation for other messages, communicated repeatedly through various means in the sermons, ads, on the chat, and on the website.  The more times participants hear the same thing, the more likely they are to respond, and Church Online stays on message throughout the one-hour experience.

During Red Letter Day #3, Church Online Campus Pastor Brandon Donaldson pulled up his iPhone to read the story of a woman whose life changed because of being involved with Church Online.  During the same service, a video ad reminded participants that not only can they access several versions of the Bible through YouVersion, a free “app” for web-enabled phones, but they can also participate in surveys and type sermon notes on the outline provided through YouVersion.  Guest speaker Pastor Joel A’Bell commented to the live congregation that he no longer hears the shuffle of page turning as people open their Bibles.  Instead, he hears the click-click-click of people accessing their iPhones.

I don’t have a web enabled phone—I’m not sure I need one, and I’m not sure my eyesight would even allow me to read a YouVersion Bible—but after spending the last month with Church Online, I really want one.

Over and over I watched a video exhorting me, “You are called,” “You were meant for something greater.”  Faces of men and women of all ethnicities directly facing the camera, eyes apparently looking directly at me.  In her rhetorical analysis of church websites, Lynne Baab identifies these kinds of images as a “demand” because the participant’s gaze demands that I enter into some kind of imaginary relationship with him or her (154).  The call is vague and ambiguous—it applies to anything and everything that has been said during the service, whether on the chat, in various videos, or during the sermon.  The voice continues:

You will restore good back into the broken everywhere

All you need is Christ at the center of everything

Be who he called you to be because who you are is far greater than what you do

You are called.

This video exhorts me to do something, and allows me to interpret its message.  Perhaps it’s to forgive, to work on my marriage, to invite people to Church Online, to make a decision for Christ, to do something significant for my community.

At the end of each service, participants are asked to acknowledge their response to the sermon message.  During the first sermon in the series Red Letter Day, Pastor Craig Groeschel addressed his listeners, stating:

If you’re in a difficult place right now, and you say, Craig, I really do need prayer.  I would love to pray for you.  If you would like, if you really need prayer right now . . . would you just lift up your hands right now, at all of our locations, just go ahead . . . and just lift your hands up right and say, I need prayer.

At Church Online, response to this appeal is signified by clicking on a raised hand, shown on the screen.  A box below the screen acknowledges that the participant has raised a hand and counts the number of hands lifted.  A few minutes later, the Church Online Campus Pastor returns to the screen and urges respondents to request a “What’s Next Kit” containing a Bible, to join a small online Life Group community, or to click on the prayer link to speak to someone more privately.

Repetition is a powerful rhetorical strategy, and the service is filled with invitations to get involved in life groups, to volunteer with Church Online, to choose to follow Christ, to log on to the Prayer link.  As I watch again and again, I lower my natural defenses and I become more open to the messages of Church Online.

The first time I logged on to Church Online, I was distracted by the chat.  There were too many things going on for me to concentrate on the actual sermon message, and for whatever reason, the prerecorded segments seemed distant. Despite the fact that I was warmly welcomed by people on the chat, I wondered whether or not true spiritual community was possible and questioned whether or not Church Online could function as a “real church.”  After spending the last month transcribing services, though, watching people interact on the chat, hearing the message of life transformation over and over, I am changing my mind.  Perhaps it is the development of ethos, or perhaps it is sheer repetition, but I am beginning to believe that Church Online is a real church. However, I am already amenable to ideas of faith, and perhaps my bias toward faith influences my response.  As a Christian, already involved with a faith community, I am not Church Online’s intended audience.

I am curious as to their actual audience, a difficult determination due to the anonymity of the internet.  And yet, these are questions that have to be asked in order to determine whether or not the rhetoric of Church Online actually achieves its goals.  I want to know:  Is Church Online the primary religious experience for participants, or is it supplemental?  How do participants find Church Online, and what prompts them to stay?  What is their religious background, and how does that background affect their response to the rhetoric?  I also want to know: How many participants begin attending one of LifeChurch’s actual campuses, and how many begin attending another church?

Church Online Campus Pastor Brandon Donaldson closes every service, saying:“Remember, whoever finds God finds life.” And so these next questions are probably the most important in determining the persuasiveness of rhetoric:  What effect do decisions to begin a relationship with Christ made in the cyberworld make on lives lived in the world outside the internet?  Is there long-term transformation?  These and other topics concerning the nature of online religious community and the effect of technology, particularly religious technology, depending on the way individuals think and respond to the world offer endless opportunities for research.
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