1 Why First-Year Composition?

What Is First-Year College Writing?

Almost every college student in the United States is required to take one or two semesters of college writing. At OSU-OKC, everyone takes English Composition I, and depending on the degree program, many take English Composition II. This approach is pretty common at most colleges, and the usual idea is that students take these classes in their first year of college, and thus, these classes are referred to as “first-year writing” (FYW) or “first-year composition” (FYC).

These classes are usually managed by the college’s English department, but they are pretty different from the English classes you might be used to. The focus in these classes is almost exclusively writing, and any reading material is typically non-fiction, not literature or poetry. The classes generally operate on the assumption that students entering college already have a basic knowledge of how to write grammatically correct sentences, so they incorporate very little grammar (no worksheets!). Instead, the emphasis is almost entirely on how to read and write at the level expected of you in college. For some students, being dropped into a class that’s so different can be pretty disorienting, and knowing that you’ll have to do a lot of writing can be intimidating. After you read this chapter, you should have a better idea of why we ask this of you and what you can expect to get out of it.

Why Is College Writing Mandatory?

Competing Views on College Writing

The “why” of a college writing class is not as clear-cut as you might think. The tradition began at Harvard in the mid-19th century, when professors complained that students weren’t being adequately trained to write for college. The school instituted a mandatory first-year writing course with the aim of providing young professionals “with the tools to avoid embarrassing themselves in print,” and the trend caught on and spread to many state schools (Berlin 35). However, many other Ivy League English departments argued that English at the college level should focus on literature; they believed students should be analyzing the great works of Western literature and creating their own literary advances. At the same time, mainly in the Midwest and away from the elite schools, a progressive view emerged, arguing that writing and rhetoric must be studied, not merely as a professional skill, but as a tool for civic participation. At this time, there were three competing camps: the non-Harvard Ivy Leaguers, who felt that the only writing English departments should teach was literary writing; the Midwestern progressives, who wanted to teach writing and rhetoric for civic participation; and the Harvard camp, who wanted first-year composition to just focus on making sure students could write competently as an academic and professional skill. Eventually, the non-Harvard Ivy Leaguers lost, and the study of literature became relegated to its own field, but the other two camps still exist and argue to this day.

Indeed, the passage of time has added to the debate, as the study of composition matured into a discipline of its own, with scholars researching questions like “How do people actually learn to write?”. In the 1970s, scholars in the field began to resent the framing as FYC as subordinate to other disciplines, existing only to teach writing for them. They argued that first-year composition classes should have a role more similar to the required introductory psychology or sociology classes you may take. For these scholars, the first-year writing classes should introduce students to the discipline now commonly referred to as “composition/rhetoric,” or “comp/rhet” for short, providing them with basic knowledge of the discipline and recruiting new majors to the area. They argued that treating the composition curriculum as existing mainly to serve other classes was both unfair and unrealistic (Crowley). In the last couple of decades, more and more universities have begun offering comp/rhet degrees, yet, particularly at colleges where these degrees are not offered, the expectation that first-year composition primarily serves to help students write effectively in their other classes persists.

So, why do you – a student at OSU-OKC in the year 2025 – have to take at least one first-year writing course? Is it to master enough writing skill to avoid embarrassing yourself, as James Berlin described Harvard’s goal? Is it so you can write passing essays in other classes? Is it to learn enough about writing and rhetoric that you can use them as tools for civic participation? Is it to introduce you to the basic principles of comp/rhet so you can be informed and maybe one day pursue further study? Well, I would argue that it’s a little bit of all of these. We don’t believe we have to choose just one. Our writing courses are designed on the premise that we can teach you some basic principles about comp/rhet, and you will be able to use those principles in your other classes and see how those principles relate to effective civic engagement in a democracy. Throughout this text, as we introduce new concepts, we will return to 1) how to use an idea or skill in other college classes/your future career and 2) how the idea or skill relates to civic engagement. The following sections will elaborate a bit more on these two aims.

Developing Skills for Other Classes

Using knowledge you learned in class in a different context, like in another class or on the job, is called “knowledge transfer.” One of the biggest complaints we hear in the English Department goes along these lines: “Why can’t these students do X? Didn’t you teach them this?”

Often, the answer is yes, we taught it, but research shows that college students struggle when it comes to knowledge transfer about writing.

One problem is that students know from experience that every teacher they have is different. It’s therefore easy to believe that each instructor is idiosyncratic, with unique expectations and grading standards, and to some extent, this is true. (I once had a professor who, for whatever reason, hated the word “while,” so every time I wrote for this professor, I had to remember not to use it. That was certainly not something I’d ever been taught before!) However, trying to learn “how to write” from scratch for each new course or instructor is taking this belief too far. Throughout this text, we’ll focus on general principles that should apply at least 90% of the time, and we’ll discuss when and why you might encounter exceptions.

Beyond individual professors grading their own way, another problem students encounter with transferring knowledge from their writing classes is simply that we can only practice a handful of types of essays in our first-year composition classes, while there are dozens, maybe hundreds, of other types you could potentially be assigned. We could never practice all of these! Thus, it’s important to focus on the general strategies and approaches, and think about how to apply them in new contexts.

Our broader core goal is familiarize you with the academic discourse community. A discourse community is any group or subculture that has its own norms and expectations for communication. A discourse community can be huge, like an entire culture. (Americans, for example, are noted even among English-speaking cultures for being fairly direct and unapologetic in their communication.) A discourse community can also be extremely small, like a core friend group that has developed its own slang and inside jokes. If you take a few minutes to think about all of the groups you belong to, you’ll realize that you’re already a member of dozens of specific discourse communities of various sizes, some of which probably even have conflicting norms. You move between these groups naturally, probably rarely even consciously considering how your communication is different in these different settings.

The academic discourse community is yet another one of these groups, and when you start college, you need to learn the ropes. To that end, first-year composition focuses mainly on the kinds of writing you will need to do for college – what we’ll refer to from now on as “academic writing.” Academic writing is different from other kinds of writing you may be more familiar with.

• First, academic writing is always making some kind of argument; it always has a point. However, even though it’s argumentative, academic writing relies on empirical evidence, adopts a respectful tone and attitude toward those who disagree, and is careful to be precise and thoughtful about the claims it makes. Thus, these arguments are pretty different from the kinds you’re probably used to encountering in popular and political discourse.
• Second, academic writing typically assumes an audience that is fairly educated on the topic. The topics of argument thus tend to be fairly specific and nuanced, and writers don’t spend time defining basic terms or explaining fundamental concepts that experts in the field will already know.
• Finally, academic writing tends to have a fairly serious and formal style. In fact, to be honest, often academic writing is pretty boring, but the best academic writing has a clear authorial voice and engages its readers.

These are all generalizations about academic writing, and it’s likely that you could find exceptions to each one. However, if you have a writing assignment for a college class, you are pretty safe in assuming that those features are expected. Thus, throughout this text, we will emphasize these principles as we introduce new concepts and genres.

Writing and Rhetoric Outside of College

The great thing about studying and practicing academic writing in first-year composition is that, while directly helping you be successful in school, it also helps you develop valuable soft skills and engage more effectively in your community by:

• Teaching the importance of evidence-based arguments
• Cultivating precision and clarity
• Promoting critical thinking
• Emphasizing audience awareness
• Expanding rhetorical skills

These are skills that employers often say college graduates are lacking. In fact, a 2020 study found that employers considered soft skills more important than technical skills in their hiring decisions, and they ranked communication, teamwork, ability to learn, and analytical thinking as some of the most important soft skills (Succi and Canovi).

You might already be noticing that these skills are also essential to effective civic engagement. Democracy, after all, is about people working together to make the best decisions for their own government. In fact, developing these skills is a major rationale for the existence of public education in the first place.

Even if you have no interest in civic engagement, these skills are also key to a fulfilled, successful life:

• Problem-solving: Whether you’re figuring out how to balance your budget, resolving a dispute with a roommate, or addressing a community issue like inadequate public transportation, problem-solving skills are crucial.
• Effective communication: From writing emails to professors, giving presentations at work, or simply expressing your needs in personal relationships, clear communication is vital in all aspects of life.
• Teamwork: Collaborating with classmates on group projects, working with colleagues in your future career, or organizing a neighborhood clean-up all require the ability to work effectively with others.
• Conflict resolution: Disagreements are inevitable in life. Whether it’s mediating between friends, negotiating with a landlord, or finding common ground in a heated political debate, the ability to resolve conflicts peacefully is invaluable.
• Critical thinking: This skill helps you make informed decisions about everything from which news sources to trust, to evaluating product claims before making a purchase, to analyzing complex social issues affecting your community.
• Decision-making: Life is full of choices, big and small. From deciding on a career path to choosing how to spend your free time, strong decision-making skills can lead to better outcomes and greater satisfaction in life.

We could say that we want to focus on the soft skills employers want and leave it at that. However, you are a whole person, not just an employee, and these soft skills are more than boxes to check for a future boss. By developing these skills, you’re not just preparing for future college classes or even for participation in democracy – you’re equipping yourself with tools that will serve you well in your personal relationships, academic pursuits, professional life, and everyday challenges.

Conclusion

As we have seen, there are competing rationales behind requiring college writing courses like this one. At their core, these classes aim to prepare you for the writing demands you will face across the curriculum and in your future career. However, they also serve the broader purpose of developing essential skills for effective civic engagement and participation in a democratic society. The critical thinking, communication, and rhetorical abilities you will cultivate have wide-ranging applications. Whether you are crafting a persuasive report for a business client, articulating your perspective on a community issue, or analyzing complex topics for scholarly study, you will draw upon the tools first-year composition provides.

Although first-year composition is focused primarily on helping you develop as an academic writer, becoming a skilled writer is about far more than putting words on a page. It’s about sharing knowledge and exploring ideas with precision and nuance. These are abilities that will serve you not just in the academic world, but as a professional, a community member, and an engaged citizen. As you progress through this course, keep an open mind to how the concepts apply both within academia and beyond the classroom walls. The skills you develop through first-year composition will aid you in any context where communicating well truly matters.

Works Cited

Berlin, James A. Rhetoric and Reality: Writing Instruction in American Colleges, 1900-1985. Southern Illinois UP, 1987.

Crowley, Sharon. Composition in the University: Historical and Polemical Essays. U of Pittsburgh P, 1998.

Succi, Chiara, and Magali Canovi. “Soft Skills to Enhance Graduate Employability: Comparing Students and Employers’ Perceptions.” Studies in Higher Education, vol. 45, no. 9, 2020, pp. 1834-1847, https://doi.org/10.1080/03075079.2019.1585420.