RWP's eAnthology is in its infancy (as a blog, anyway), and the navigation is a bit clumsy. There are a couple of ways to view your selection:
1. Right click on the name of the person whose paper you would like to view. It should go to a new page on a new tab. Without a right click, to return you will have to use your back button on your browser.
OR
2. The paper will be published below the Posts; please scroll down to view the text you have selected.
We appreciate your patience as we work towards improving this resource. Thank you.
1. Right click on the name of the person whose paper you would like to view. It should go to a new page on a new tab. Without a right click, to return you will have to use your back button on your browser.
OR
2. The paper will be published below the Posts; please scroll down to view the text you have selected.
We appreciate your patience as we work towards improving this resource. Thank you.
ISI 2010 Papers
ISI 2009 Inquiry and Reflection
Prior to conducting research and developing a workshop, the 2009 ISI participants explored his or her experiences or current understanding of a teaching of writing practice in a personal, non-research-based, reflective essay.
There is no standard format for this essay; the writer may depict a specific teaching moment, explore a series of experiences related to the practice, discuss what he or she has already read/learned about the subject, or reflect on the questions about the practice.
There is no standard format for this essay; the writer may depict a specific teaching moment, explore a series of experiences related to the practice, discuss what he or she has already read/learned about the subject, or reflect on the questions about the practice.
ISI 2007 Inquiry Papers
ISI 2005 Papers and Reflections
ISI 2005 eAnthology
ISI 2004 eAnthology
ISI 2003 Papers and Reflections
ISI 2003 eAnthology
ISI 2002 Papers and Reflections
ISI 2002 eAnthology
ISI 2001 eAnthology
Sunday, September 1, 2002
Vincent Peloso's "Babies' Breath"
Once upon a time there was a summer writing workshop, which met in a room once a hospital nursery before this building had been converted to classrooms. This place was the town hospital. And now this room where babies once slept is the temporary home for a small group of teachers who come here each day to teach and learn about writing. None of the babies who slept here could write. None of them could even read. Yet each one had a story to tell. And each told it in the same language--incomprehensible, but understandable--passionate, if nothing else. They were totally into the stories they told. They were totally into sharing. These walls absorbed every one of their voices. This room cradled their breath. When I am here, I breathe in this air. I breathe in their stories, their voices, their dreams. I am a baby again.
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