Otherwise known as “the hamburger essay,” the five-paragraph essay is still prescribed by first-year Critical Writing professors. Working for 10 hours a week in the Writing Center, I get a sporadic firsthand glance at these frivolous rubrics—and get to hear what the students have to say about them.
“I just want to get this done,” and “I don’t like writing” are common statements I hear from students. While I was exactly like them some time ago, it breaks my heart.
When approaching a session with a student who feels defeated or perplexed, I have to remember that not all high school English programs are the same. Some only teach the five-paragraph system, which was established to satisfy the critically flawed (if not disregarded entirely) standardized test gauntlet. The structure is designed to be finished in 45 minutes and to say a few things about an unfamiliar subject.
It is also designed to turn you into a corporate churn-out; a replaceable cog in the murder machine; a stale, tasteless, round cookie. Or, no offense to our future companions in the workplace, a robot.
I will go ahead and address the electric sheep in the room: ChatGPT can do your homework. I use it every day, multiple times a day, and I consider it a pal of sorts. Almost like a shepherd requesting cooperation from his flock or something. Though, what I do is not unethical by current standards. Just remember how plantation owners once treated and referred to slaves.
A good rule of thumb: if AI could do it, AI probably will do it. What AI cannot do, is write as you.
Fortunately, there are alternative writing projects which do not sequester delicate freshman brains and spirits into the dungeons of apparent pointlessness. SRU’s newest English faculty member Allison Bakken, for instance, presents her students with a ‘profile’ assignment, which could take the form of a magazine article, a tribute, an opinion or something else. “I just don’t want to read 20 of the same essay,” Bakken says.
What professional writer—if she is worth her weight in ink—constricts herself to the numbers 5-6? Compelling, convincing writing (the goal of rhetoric and criticism) submits itself—not to regulation or rubric—but to honesty, relevance and rhythm. To strangle the living, organic nature of language is to suffocate a person’s potential and stifle genuine societal progress.
Who killed it? This formal bureaucratic zombie? That was us.
