<p>amb3r, glad to help. And I’m glad you started teaching! </p>
<p>Hey, BigAppleDaddy, I really appreciate your perspective on this. At the same time, I’ve got to respectfully disagree with at least some of what you say. For one thing, I use formulas in teaching “real” writing all the time. The best writers rely on patterns. For another, your method is ideal for a student with a natural gift for writing, but in my experience, it doesn’t work for all kids all the time–especially not a kid who’s stuck. I once made a student read the entire 1000-page Norton Reader–a huge anthology of really high quality contemporary prose essays–in the hopes that her writing would improve dramatically through immersion alone. It didn’t work for her at all (although it would have worked for some students, namely those with a more innate sense of language and style—maybe like your son). The student and I were both frustrated, because we had spent a summer on it. But once we talked in a very direct, analytical way about the patterns of prose writing–the formulae, as I called them earlier–then her writing improved dramatically, and she was also able to learn more from her reading. I’d say it depends a lot on the kid. Some just need these things spelled out for them a little more than others. The OP’s student sounds like the type of student who needs a little more direct, prescriptive instruction (especially given his timeframe). It’s possible that mastering the patterns of prose writing will help, rather than hurt, his classroom writing. The patterns I described in my earlier post are common to many forms of high-quality prose. Once he learns how a typical introduction might proceed, it’s more likely that he will recognize and learn from the examplary introductions that he encounters in his reading. Of course, as you say, if a student really needs to learn to write well, he or she has no choice but to read and read and read; but a reading habit might not be enough for him or her.</p>
<p>The conclusion “formula” I use, I developed by asking myself, “Well, how do I (as an experienced writer) write a conclusion?” I thought, well, I summarize, then I generalize, then I appeal. I made each of my own habits of mind into a step, and then I gave each step a catchy name. I don’t know that there’s anything treacherous in that. </p>
<p>Cheesy as it sounds, a good formula can be a little bit like Dumbo’s feather: it’s concrete and reassuring and it allows the kid to get out of his own way. The feather and the formula are both gimmicks, but even gimmicks have their place.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, I do appreciate your general sentiment—that the SAT Writing is harming rather than helping student writing by encouraging thoughtless, two-dimensional analysis. Myself, I’m particularly worried myself about the way SAT graders are told to disregard even the most blatant factual errors.</p>