Author Archives: Lindsey Albracht

Book Traces

Reading about Andrew Stauffer’s project reminded me of a lecture that I saw last year at Duquesne University given by Cristanne Miller about her book, Reading in Time, in which she examines the marginalia and the material on which Emily Dickinson wrote her poetry and generates new “readings” of some of her canonical poems. Though Book Traces is really addressing the finished product of a published book rather than the processes by which it came to exist, I’m compelled by the reminder that the materiality of a text (and maybe, also, the way that readers interact with the “finished” product over the course of time) helps us do some sort of richer interpretative work and, certainly, to build a more complex context around the past (even if our ability to “know” the past can be severely limited by the boundaries of our modern epistemologies, our culture, our sense of the “logic” that governs time, etc., and even if the immediate application for that context isn’t yet visible because, for example, an obscure author’s work has been, to date, unexamined). I feel like there are potentially interesting implications within this project about the instability of a finished literary product: a book, as we all know, goes into the world, and as Kate brings up in her post, the meaning of the text changes depending on what kinds of experiences we bring to it. This is something that we know theoretically, and it’s something that I think we, as readers, know…experientially? affectively? maybe even corporally?…but it isn’t always necessarily reflected in our methodological practices unless we’re textual scholars or, potentially, historicists / cultural studies scholars / etc. I think this project also brings up interesting questions about resource allocation: what is deemed “worth” saving, and what is deemed trash, and how does this come to be? What are the conditions by which we are able to have both closely guarded and meticulously maintained archives, and then also trucks full of books that are, one day, available (and that incur fines if they’re not returned on time!) and, then, the next day, headed for the garbage heap?

Open Admission and the CCNY Archives

By: Lindsey Albracht

As hundreds of students waited for the Basic Writing sections to open so they could register for courses they had been told they must take, a fist fight broke out between two students, knocking a Basic Writing table over and pinning me under the table with their weight as they fought their way across the overturned table toward the blackboards. Prof. Norment grabbed one of the students, Prof. Keating the other. Prof. Norment has a split lip from a punch in the mouth. I have badly bruised thighs and am recuperating from symptoms of internal bleeding. Computer cards were strewn everywhere; it took an hour to put them back in order (“An Open Letter to Alice Chandler, Provost” City College of New York, 1977).

This is a passage from a letter that I found in the Mina P. Shaughnessy box at the City College library archive. It was an open letter, but it was addressed to Provost Alice Chandler from Kathy O. Roe, an Administrative Assistant, and it describes a remarkably tense scene from registration day in the fall of 1977 at City College. Although, Roe claims, the Dean of the college of Humanities had “informed [her] in writing of the projected shortage of sections in Basic Writing — twenty-six, to be exact,” Provost Chandler had neglected to open enough sections to accommodate all of the students who needed to take a Basic Writing course in order to advance. For these students, this would have meant that they would have needed to wait an entire year to enroll in any classes at City College.

For the seminar paper that I’m currently writing about classroom space, I’ve been doing a bit of research about the 1968 and 1969 protests by the Black and Puerto Rican student organizations that built on the national, city-wide, and campus activism throughout the 1960s and that led, ultimately, to the enactment of Open Admissions. For those of you who don’t already know, Open Admissions was a CUNY-wide policy that began in 1970 and ended in 1999, and it guaranteed all New York City high school graduates a place at one of the CUNY campuses (which was a tuition-free system until 1976). In this era at CUNY, remedial student services expanded dramatically. And Mina Shaughnessy, who is credited with significantly advancing the sub-field of basic (or remedial) writing, was the director of the pre-baccalaureate English program, SEEK, at this time. She also wrote an influential book called Errors and Expectations, which, while other scholars have since quite rightly critiqued it for its singular focus on surface-level error and for its lack of focus on the political nature of language, was still perhaps the first resource of its kind to “legitimize” basic writing as a serious subject that was “worthy” of academic inquiry. It was her personal letters, correspondence between various people involved with basic writing and the remedial program, and other random ephemera that I went to the City College archive to investigate.

I saw a lot of compelling artifacts — both in this box and in the box concerning the ESL program which I also explored. But the letter that I mentioned was particularly impactful. It made the struggle of Open Admissions completely vivid to me: much more so than reading about the protests, which I’ve mostly encountered through sanitized New York Times news coverage, Wikipedia entries, and brief paragraphs or footnotes in books about protests in New York City. I’m perhaps particularly attuned to the way that a mundane administrative choice to not open enough classes (despite knowledge of the necessity to do so) sends a clear, silent, political message to students about the priorities of a department, of a school, and of a system of education because I spent some time as a school administrator, and the trickiness of how and when to allocate our institutional resources were sometimes mine to make. But even from an administrator’s side of the desk, I’ve come to realize that these banal little details constitute an unbelievably resolute institutional epistemology that is so hard to dismantle. We can’t fix your problem because we don’t have the resources, and we don’t have the resources because we (probably) decided that your problem wasn’t really that important to us.

This letter also resonated because it was about violence, and because we’re engaged in national conversations about this topic in the wake of the Ferguson decision. So, I read this letter and thought about how some faculty, administrators, city officials, and students openly and vocally resented Open Admissions because of the worry that increasing educational access would “devalue” the worth of their own education (a theme that was continually revisited as justification to end Open Admissions in 1999). I read it and considered that, just the year before, for the first time in CUNY’s history, students had been asked to shoulder the burden of tuition. I read it with the knowledge from previous research that the strain on facilities and resources within the total CUNY system as a result of a lack of appropriate allocation of funding during Open Admissions was causing overcrowded classes to be held in hallways and cafeterias. I read it and thought about the students who were offered admission to CCNY through Open Admissions and who had fought their way through a public education system that had been ravaged by segregation, a lack of monetary support, and overcrowding. Those students graduated from high school anyway, and then they wanted to pursue an education badly enough to accept all of these unfavorable conditions, and then they showed up, and then they were told that they had to wait for another year. I’m not saying that any of this was solely CUNY’s fault, and I understand that the city was experiencing a financial crisis that had greatly impacted funding, and I’ve been that administrator who had to make a tough choice to cut a class. I’m also not saying that punching a professor in the mouth — a person who probably had nothing to do with the decision to close the class — was the right call. But we always find the funding for other things that we deem necessary, right? So, I read this letter, and I felt empathy for Kathy O. Roe and Alice Chandler, and I felt empathy for the students, and I felt utter and total and consuming frustration.

I’m glad to have had the opportunity to visit the archive since, before this project, I wasn’t sure how archival work might be a part of my own research and, now, I anticipate that it will. Finding these little fragments made a big difference in the way I understood this bit of institutional history.

Archiving Agrippa

On Friday, I attended the faculty membership talk by Dr. Siraj Ahmed. To summarize a portion of his thesis, (and, those of you who were also there, please pitch in and tell me what I’ve missed, because honestly, I felt a bit out of my depth!), Dr. Ahmed argues that our Western insistence on reducing and confining all literate practice into the medium of a “cohesive,” historicized text is a colonial impulse that has forced us to erase the richer, non-textual, non-recordable (or not as easily recorded) set of practices that have accompanied a text over the course of time. So, as one example of what he means, he talks about the idea of hafiz, which is not so much the text of the Koran, but rather, the act of memorization and the identity of a person who has completely memorized all of the verses in all of the various versions of it. As Jennifer brought up in last week’s class, the Western academy’s dominant ways of knowing and validating knowledge tend to overlook ways of producing it that are not, in some way, textual. I think this is what Dr. Ahmed was acknowledging in his talk: there are literacy practices that resist textual codification, but that are still “valid” ways of making sense of the world. And there are also ways of interacting with or experiencing a text that are not for the purpose of “knowing” it or “decoding” it, but rather (as we’ve been discussing in Kandice Chuh’s class today), for the purpose of changing our own subjectivity as a result of having been exposed to it. The boundaries of our ontological positions shift because we read things — not (only) because we use them as evidence to make larger arguments. This feels true to my experience, anyway.

So, what does this have to do with Agrippa? For me, Agrippa enacts a resistance of codified reading practices by allowing us to see the text, and then refusing the option to return to it. As a type of performance, the text invokes an experience and, potentially, it frustrates our normative reading practices. However, there’s also this impulse to document the project — to videotape the scrolling poem transforming into code, to create this archival website dedicated to explaining its materiality, and to craft a digital emulation. For me, then, “hacks” described in Kirschenbaum’s article were somewhat complicated (and potentially problematic). What does it mean that people at this conference wanted to record the performance, to disseminate it, and to make the text of the poem available to a wider public? What does it mean that the response to this project is to copy it, to share it, to “preserve” it as a historical artifact? I’m not saying that these are bad or good outcomes, but I do think that considering what this process affords and prevents. On one hand, archiving Agrippa resignifies it, and archiving this text specifically through the process of emulation potentially changes the original, if we’re thinking of the copies as the Lyotardian concept of simulacra (where what is real gets replaced by a copy so that everything becomes either a copy or a copy of a copy). On the other hand, digital archiving helps us to share the poem and the performance with others, and to (more cynically) make a commodifiable product that we can write / think / publish on. Archiving resists what seems like a will to self-destruct, but then again, maybe this is Barthes death of the author at work….we can’t know, and it doesn’t matter, what the authors of Agrippa originally intended, so attempting to document it is just as valid a response as letting it “disappear” forever. And, yet again, Kirschenbaum mentions, at one point, that the museums “expected to receive copies of the disk that would not self-destruct, but [the collaborators] ‘stuck to their guns’” by not producing copies that wouldn’t eventually encrypt, suggesting (to me, anyway), that the original collaborators felt that there was something potentially important or worthwhile about allowing for that self-destruction to happen. I obviously have very conflicted feelings about this project! I know we have a visitor in class today, so we might not have time to raise some of these questions, but I’d love to hear your thoughts about your experience of the archival project.

Annotated Bibliography – The Visual Rhetoric of Learning Space Design

By: Lindsey Albracht

I’m using this annotated bibliography assignment as a way to prepare for a seminar paper that I’m writing about the spaces in which writing instruction takes place in the CUNY senior college system (focusing especially on first-year composition classrooms). So far, the following questions are guiding my research:

  • If we acknowledge David Batchelor’s theory that color, in the West is often “relegated to the realm of the superficial, the supplementary, the inessential or the cosmetic,” or that it is “made out to be the property of some ‘foreign’ body — usually the feminine, the oriental, the primitive, the infantile, the vulgar, the queer or the pathological,” what might the use of color in certain spaces and the absence of color in others communicate? (Batchelor 22). Specifically, in what ways and to what effect do classrooms evacuate or utilize color in their design? In what kinds of spaces can we see color, and in what kinds of spaces is it absent? How is color institutionally encouraged or denied? If considerations surrounding the history and racialized origins of Western color theory are brought to bear on previous research about the effect of space color on student academic performance or the measurement of the affective response to color, how might these conversations impact or more broadly contextualize this research?
  • Furthermore, in what ways and to what effect do classrooms evacuate or acknowledge the (dis/abled) body in their design? Beyond meeting ADA compliance, are there ways that a classroom can or should be structured or re-structured to meet the physiological and pedagogical needs and demands of embodied writing students? In what ways does Industrial Revolution-era design continue to impact classrooms spaces? Again, what is the institution’s or market’s role in perpetuating or maintaining pedagogically outdated design? In what ways do environmental scales (such as the ECERS, the Danielson Rubric, or the EDUCAUSE Learning Space Rating System) reflect anxieties about the appearance of sexuality in post-early childhood classrooms? Might the writing process and theories of writing studies / queer theory inform, impact, or queer classroom design?

Bemer, Amanda Metz, Ryan M. Moeller, and Cheryl E. Ball. “Designing Collaborative   Learning Spaces.” Programmatic Perspectives, 1(2), September 2009: 139–166.

This article tracks the changes made in the physical and material environment of a computer lab on the Utah State University campus over a span of 15 years. The authors begin with a brief literature review of discussions concerning classroom furniture configurations and briefly outline the affordances and constraints of typical models of computer classroom design (rows, rows + “peninsulas,” pods, and and a circle around the exterior of the room). By analyzing the various changes, the authors concluded that there were three factors that increased success in collaboration: formality, presence, and confidentiality. They used these concepts to design a new, laptop-based computer lab on campus that attempted to maximize student control over their formality and confidentiality while increasing the sense of presence and, therefore, they successfully increase student collaboration and autonomy in the space.

Brown, Michael, Joseph Cevetello, Shirley Dugdale, Richard Holeton, and Carole Meyers.   “Learning Space Rating System.” EDUCAUSE. 1 Sept. 2014. Web. 3 Nov. 2014.

This is a document that EDUCAUSE released this fall which was co-authored by a researcher   for EDUCAUSE, professors from three universities, and the CEOs of industrial designers from   two firms that specialize in educational space design. It’s a rating system for educational space in higher education, and it is designed to assess the space’s potential for pedagogical alignment, environmental quality, integration of technology, durability and other relevant factors. I’d like to put this primary source into conversation with another scale that is commonly used in New York State to assess early childhood education space (which is called the ECERS scale) to investigate what kinds of rhetorical arguments that both documents are making about the learners who will inhabit the spaces that the scales are designed to assess. I’m especially interested in the points of intersection and divergence in these scales, and how the potential learning goals are framed in each case.

Carton, Francis. “Ethnographie Comparée De La Salle De Classe en France et en Grande-Bretagne.” Mélanges Pédagogiques 23 (1997): 11-26. Print.

Francis Carton, a professor at centre de recherches et d’applications pédagogiques en langues at Université de Nancy 2, wrote an ethnography describing the experiences of British and French assistants working in foreign schools. For my project, the most compelling portion of the ethnography focused on the teachers’ perceptions of their respective foreign schools’ use of classroom space. British classrooms tended to be located in old, outmoded basements more often than French classrooms; they were more often used as multi-purpose spaces; and they had, on average, fewer cafeterias and nurses offices than French schools. However, British classrooms tended to be more “open” — teachers kept the doors open, students passed outside between classes, students were freer to move around the classroom, etc., while French schools tended to be more “closed” — individual instructors closed their classroom doors, and the students spent a majority of their day inside the building rather than passing from class to class from an outside thoroughfare. Carton concluded that this contributed to an environment (or was, perhaps, reflective of an environment) in which French teachers had more personal autonomy and authority and the goal of an education was for students to become socialized into a system rather than to become (more) curious and autonomous.

Derouet-Besson, Marie-Claude. “Architecture et éducation: convergences et divergences des conjonctures politique et scientifique.” Revue Français de Pèdagogie 115 (1996): 99-119.

In this article, Marie-Claude Derouet-Besson, a French author and researcher at the INRP (Institut National de Recherche Pédagogique) wrote this brief history of the (dis)connection between the planning of architectural and interior space and contemporary pedagogical practice in France. She argues that a confluence of factors caused the split between architectural thinking and educational praxis. First, because the effect of space on student performance cannot be easily separated from the effect of pedagogy itself and a variety of other factors, it therefore cannot be neatly and scientifically quantified, which leaves it a difficult area to study. Derouet-Besson also blames economic factors, such as the sudden and pronounced need in the 1960s to build schools quickly (and cheaply) in order to accommodate students who arrived in France as the result of a new wave of immigration. During the 1970s and 1980s, as a result of the work of thinkers such as Foucault and Piaget, and because of developments within the field of developmental psychology, there was a renewed interest in the way that physical environment shaped pedagogy.

Leander, Kevin and Gail Boldt. “Rereading ‘A Pedagogy of Multiliteracies’: Bodies, Texts, and Emergence.” Journal of Literacy Research 45.1 (2013): 22-46.

Kevin Leander, a professor at Vanderbilt’s Peabody College, and Gail Boldt, a professor in the school of education at Pennsylvania State University, explore a canonical literacy education text from the 1990s (‘A Pedagogy of Multiliteracies’) and use observations of a 10-year-old boy’s manga reading practices to critique the text’s lack of focus on the way that the body mediates and facilitates literacy practices. Using Deluze and Guattrai’s theory of rhizomic analysis (which is a framework that attempts to dissolve constructed boundaries between seemingly unrelated things — like reading and use of the body), Leander and Boldt argue that pedagogies of literacy must be expanded to consider the way that affect and the body help to constitute meaning-making since, currently, using the body to read (for example, by acting out a scene) is often seen as a “distraction” from the task at hand rather than another way of knowing and comprehending it. Although this text primarily focuses on reading and not production of text, I think that Leander and Boldt’s use of Deluze and Guattrai’s framework to promote embodied pedagogy and learning is a compelling move that could inform my project.

Lipsitz, George. How Racism Takes Place. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2011. Print.

As a professor of American Studies in the Black Studies department at the University of California, Santa Barbara, George Lipsitz studies social movements and identities, race and culture, and inequality (particularly in urban environments). In the first chapter of his book, Lipsitz argues that a phenomenon he identifies as “the white spatial imaginary” organizes much of the logic of North American public and private space and contributes to the phenomenon of misdirecting attention away from the link between “urban place and race” to make post-Civil Rights urban racial segregation seem like a natural consequence of choice (13). Lipsitz’s discussion about the way that place and space reflects and reifies white privilege could inform my rhetorical analysis of the way that classroom space is (potentially) impacted by the white spatial imaginary.

Muñoz, José Esteban. “Stages: Queers, Punks, and the Utopian Performance.” Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity. New York and Longmon: New York UP, 2009. Print.

In this chapter, Muñoz offers an interpretation of the work of Kevin McCarty, who photographs queer punk performance spaces before the performance takes place. He argues that these photos depict a punk/queer utopia, or, in other words, a space and time that are not bound by heteronormative social constructs of time, space, identity, and notions of futurity. Like the process and post-process movements within the field of Writing Studies, the punk/queer scene that Muñoz describes celebrates that which is in process rather than that which has already come into being. Muñoz describes these stages as a symbol for “a self that does not conform to the mandates of cultural logics such as late capitalism, heteronormativity, and in some cases, white supremacy” (111). I think that this essay could not only provide an interesting model for how to “closely read” a material space, but it could also assist with thinking about the “so what” of my own project. If we reorganize classrooms so that they are more reflective of anti-racist, anti-homophobic pedagogical classrooms, this would be a continual, ongoing process rather than a static, definitive performance.

Nagelhout, Ed, and Carol Rutz. Classroom Spaces and Writing Instruction. Hampton Press, 2004. Print.

In this collection of essays, Ed Nagelhout (a professor of Rhetoric and Writing at the University of Las Vegas), and Carol Rutz (a professor of Writing at Carleton College) include a variety of pieces that examine the relationship between writing instruction and material classroom space to encourage teachers and students to become more conscious and critical about the way that space impacts writing and frames pedagogy. Many of these essays engage with the way that classroom furniture and embodiment / movement (or lack of embodiment / movement) impact writing; however, discussions that engage with queer theory and / or sexuality in the classroom are completely absent, so there’s a good opportunity to build on previous research while, potentially, expanding the conversation.

Rands, Kat, Jess McDonald, and Lauren Clapp. “Landscaping Classrooms toward Queer Utopias.” A Critical Inquiry into Queer Utopias. Ed. Angela Jones. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Print.

Invoking the work of Jill H. Casid, an art historian, who talks about the concept of a “landscape” as both a noun (a fixed tableau) and a verb (a process by which the tableau undergoes continual change) Kat Rands (a professor of education at Elon University) and student collaborators Jess McDonald and Lauren Clapp position queer landscaping as a process by which teachers and students may arrive at a more progressive, anti-oppressive classroom design. After a brief discussion of the ways in which a classroom is normatively landscaped, the authors figure queer landscaping as a process which involves a subversion of the normative (Western) conception of time, a subversion of structures of authority and the teacher/student binary, and a refiguring of where on a campus (or outside of one) a “class” can take place. The chapter also includes a practical “guide” of suggestions.

Sheridan, David. “Digital Composition as Distributed, Emergent Process: Technology-Rich  Spaces and Learning Ecologies.” Making Spaces: Architexture, Infrastructure and the  Rhetoric of Design. Ed. Rusty Carpenter, Danielle Nicole DeVoss, Andy Frazee, James P. Purdy, David Sheridan, and Douglas Walls. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, (anticipated) 2015.

David Sheridan, an English professor who specializes in rhetoric and writing, teaches at Michigan State University. In this essay — part of a forthcoming collection of essays which focus on analyzing composing spaces across several campuses — Sheridan analyzes the Language Media Center (LMC), which is a part of Michigan State’s residential college of the arts and humanities, and argues that living-learning centers (residential spaces where classes and other learning-related resources are available) are fertile grounds for research into the composing process which happens inside and outside of “actual” writing time. Sheridan’s description of what he calls a learning ecology, which involves a combination of formal instruction and dedicated writing time with informal and accidental conversations (which can actually be intentionally influenced by architectural design) may more accurately describe the composing process. This theory pairs well with Leander and Boltd’s call to apply rhizomic analysis to the restructuring of literacy practices.

State of the Field – Comp/Rhet (specifically second language writing, digital writing / multimodal composition)

By: Lindsey Albracht


  • Computers and Composition- This journal, which began as a newsletter in 1983, initially featured the work of scholars who attempted to situate computer work within a classroom context. This is largely still the case, though as the journal has expanded, the articles have grown longer, taken on a more scholarly tone, and focused less primarily on the practical use of computers within a classroom context and more on the praxis of computer use within the wider field.
  • College Composition and Communication – According to the submission guidelines, this journal “invites submission of research and scholarship in composition studies that supports college teachers in reflecting on and improving their practices in teaching writing.” While it isn’t critical that Cs articles are explicit classroom “how-to” guides, the content of these articles should be immediately related to teaching.
  • Journal of Second Language Writing – The title of this journal is fairly descriptive of its content, but basically, this journal features articles that discuss current issues related to second-language writing. The submission guidelines state that the journal is particularly interested in contributions that focus on “personal characteristics and attitudes of L2 writers, L2 writers’ composing processes, features of L2 writers’ texts, readers’ responses to L2 writing, assessment / evaluation of L2 writing, contexts (cultural, social, political, institutional) for L2 writing, and any other topic clearly relevant to L2 writing, theory, research, or instruction.”
  • College English – Another journal which is specifically targeted to and which particularly solicits submissions from “scholar-teachers,” College English strikes me as slightly more interdisciplinary than Cs (which is also affiliated with the organization NCTE, or National Council of Teachers of English). The submissions can focus on literature, comp/rhet, theory, pedagogy, linguistics, and other issues related to the teaching of English.
  • TESOL Quarterly – This journal is interested in many of the same issues that interest the audience of Journal of Second-Language Writing, but it doesn’t solely focus on writing. Rather, TESOL Quarterly would be read by linguists, teachers, teacher educators, researchers, and other people in the field who are interested in research related to work with multilingual students.

Books published in the last two years:

  • de Oliveira, Luciana C. and Tony Silva. L2 Writing in Secondary Classrooms: Student Experiences, Academic Issues, and Teacher Education. New York: Routledge, 2013. Print.   Though this book is primarily for teachers / administrators / policy makers / researchers who work with secondary students (rather than students in higher ed), it stresses the lack of emphasis that current secondary curriculum places on the teaching of writing. The collection is co-edited by Tony Silva, who has done a lot of interesting work around second-language writing and writing program administration, and it might provide a helpful context to teachers of first-year composition (and those who study it).
  • Jordan, Jay. Redesigning Composition for Multilingual Realities. Urbana, Ill.: Conference on College Composition and Communication of the National Council of Teachers of English, 2012. Print.                                                                                                                              In this book, Jordan subverts traditional constructions of the multilingual learner to remind us that all students (and teachers) are operating within and between multiple, simultaneous, sometimes competitive literacies in composition classrooms. He also argues that second-language students, specifically, are positioned to “provide models for language uses as English continues to spread and change as an international lingua franca.”
  • Lutkewitte, Claire. Multimodal Composition: A Critical Sourcebook. Boston and New York: Bedford / St. Martin’s, 2013. Print.                                                                                    This book is part of the Bedford / St. Martin’s rhet/comp series, and it gives a practical grounding in what multimodal composition is and how it functions. It’s a guide to teaching multimodal composition but also to using it in the scholarly production of texts outside of the first-year comp classroom.

(Also, here’s a handy map of publishers that accept monographs in/around rhetoric and composition studies.)

Annual conferences:

  • Symposium on Second Language Writing -This is an annual international conference. Sometimes it’s in June, sometimes it’s in September, sometimes, it’s in October, etc. This year, it’s at Arizona State University, and it’s in November.

University press series:

Speaker series:

  • Florida State University Rhetoric and Composition Speaker Series
  • The Culbertson Speaker Series at Indiana University
  • Grassroots Writing Research Visiting Speaker Series at Illinois State University

Scholarly blogs:

Twitter accounts maintained by scholars in the field:

  • Kristen Arola — @kristenarola
  • Cheryl E. Ball — @s2ceball
  • Susan Miller-Cochran — @mediatedlife

Twitter accounts maintained by institutions related to the field:  

  • Composition Studies Journal — @CompStudiesJrnl
  • Computers & Writing — @candwcon