by Clare Moore
Writing centers create better writers through direct one-on-one consultations between peers. This method of tutelage works because “conversation and collaboration are essential elements to promote critical thinking and good writing” (Gillespie and Lerner 147). For the majority of students who visit the writing center, the intimacy inherent in these sessions is helpful because it fosters focused and productive collaboration. However, students with marginalized identities, specifically those who identify as LGBTQ+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning), must navigate this intimacy carefully in order to maximize improvement in their critical thinking and writing without sacrificing their safety.
For students and writing center administrators who are not LGBTQ+ identified, an effort to break down the interpersonal and intellectual walls created by heteronormativity–the belief that heterosexuality is the only normal form of sexuality–may seem unnecessary. However, the writing center’s non-directive and non-evaluative mantra implicitly invites scholarship that questions tradition and reconstructs dogma in order to promote a student-directed writing discourse. The general spirit of fundamental writing center theory aligns with a central tenet of LGBTQ+ studies which is to read the world in a way that “benefits society in general by critically examining the functions of heteronormativity and homophobia and their effects on how we view and use identity” (Alexander and Wallace 301). In a writing center consultation, identity discussions emerge because of the non-directive and non-evaluative approach. Writing center theory encourages the use of conversation as a tool for brainstorming and creativity, and identity influences the lens through which students view writing and academia.
Harry Denny conceptualizes the complexity of consultants and writers as “intricately woven tapestries, rich in the authenticity and texture of identities” (103). Within this richly textured landscape, the tutorial session becomes a space where “students and tutors alike shore up, build, anew, and deconstruct identities and the ways of knowing that are sutured to them” (Denny 103). When writers and consultants sit down together in the context of a tutoring session, their rich identities are not replaced by a single title of “writer” or “consultant” or “peer.” Instead, their role in the writing center becomes melded with the threads of their personal identity which then work together to inform their unique lens. Regardless of whether one comes out as LGBTQ+ in the writing center, their sexual or gender identity does not disappear, and it continues to inform their analytical perspective.
If a writer feels comfortable enough to come out during a session because they see their marginalized sexual or gender identity as relevant to their writing project, the session challenges the status quo. Coming out during the discussion of an academic paper “challenges the unmarked and naturalized discourses of compulsory heterosexuality” (Denny 116). This challenge of hegemonic heterosexuality through academic writing results from an intermingling of the writer’s public and private selves. In nonacademic writing like personal statements, the LGBTQ+ writer is essentially obligated to come out to the consultant because of both the intimacy of the subject matter and the consultation itself. Regardless of the writer’s assignment, productive collaboration relies on the writer “offering themselves up for analysis and interpretation by laying their writing sins and self on the table for absolution” (Denny 116-117). In an ideal consultation, the LGBTQ+ identified writer collaborates openly without fear of academic or interpersonal isolation.
A person’s decision to either pass as straight or come out during a consultation is generally a choice consciously made by the individual. However, some students who are visibly LGBTQ+ skip past the careful consideration period and find themselves with no barrier between their otherness and the heteronormativity inherent in the writing center and in academia. One possible scenario involves a writer of visibly unclear or indeterminate gender who comes to the center for a consultation. Although the majority of the session will likely rely on first person interaction between writer and consultant, should the consultant ask for the writer’s preferred pronouns? Is it the writer’s responsibility to translate their gender nonconformity from physical to verbal language or is it the consultant’s responsibility to initiate this identity translation? According to Denny, gender nonconforming students “are marked by social cleaving” and their bodies “speak before spoken” which removes their opportunity to navigate a heteronormative environment with complete agency (Denny 111). The solution to this loss of agency remains unclear, but writing center consultants and administrators do have a responsibility to make all students feel safe.
Looking into the future of writing center pedagogy, the existing framework for a non-directive and non-evaluative consultation will lend itself well to collaborative sessions with LGBTQ+ writers. However, the writing center staff should involve itself more explicitly by promoting diverse scholarship and requiring sensitivity training that includes LGBTQ+ identities. According to a currently employed consultant, The Undergraduate Writing Center at UT Austin does not require any workshops specifically detailing LGBTQ+ or other diversity issues. In addition to offering workshops, the Writing Center could include a space for a writer to list their preferred pronouns–the pronouns which they feel best reflects their gender–on the online sign-in form. This way, gender nonconforming and transgender individuals who already feel anxious about coming out in the writing center can silently confirm their identity and have it validated by writing center staff.
A different consultant at UT Austin told me that she made a habit of keeping her water bottle–decorated with a rainbow flag sticker and a Human Rights Campaign sticker–visible on the table during a session as a representation of her support. This small gesture was a way for her to silently display understanding so that a potential LGBTQ+ consultee would feel at ease. Following this consultant’s example, writing center administrators could display information pamphlets for the university’s Gender and Sexuality Center or Multicultural Center alongside the other pamphlets for academic departments already offered near the front desk. Again, this would be a subtle yet effective way to show support for students’ diverse identities.
If writing centers begin to take LGBTQ+ identities into consideration, their reputation for fostering progressive learning through collaboration will strengthen. Individually, honest and open consultations create better writing and, by extension, better writers. Collectively, improved writers strengthen the reputation of the writing center and, by extension, the university. As LGBT and Queer Theory become more incorporated into mainstream academia, writers and consultants will naturally become more exposed to diverse perspectives and eventually bring their work into the writing center for collaboration. This diversification is inevitable, but writing centers can and should do more to encourage its progression.
Works Cited
Alexander, Jonathan and David Wallace. “The Queer Turn in Composition Studies: Reviewing and Assessing an Emerging Scholarship.” College Composition and Communication
61.1 (2009): 300-320. Print.
Denny, Harry. “Queering the Writing Center.” Writing Center Journal 30.1 (2010): 94. Web.
Gillespie, Paula, and Neal Lerner. The Longman Guide to Peer Tutoring. New York: Pearson Longman, 2008. Print.
Pratt, Mary Louise. “Arts of the Contact Zone”. Profession (1991): 33–40. Web.
Clare writes, “I was raised in San Jose, CA, and am now a senior English major completing an LGBTQ+ and Human Sexualities certificate at the University of Texas at Austin. I am in the process of applying to graduate programs for Library & Information Sciences. I plan to do graduate work in archival studies with emphasis on preserving artifacts of marginalized cultures. I also plan to continue my research with LGBTQ+ memoir and oral history, specifically examining how these genres can function to preserve the voices lost in the AIDS crisis. My ultimate ambition is to work in an LGBTQ+ library or museum and facilitate outreach to marginalized communities.”