The CCCC Family Reunion
By Don Moore
Tags: Imposter Syndrome, History, WAC/WID, Activism, Community, Time Passing
My first Conference on College Composition and Communication (CCCC) was in 2008 in New Orleans, and my first presentation was in San Francisco in 2009. It could have been the magic of NOLA that convinced me that the CCCC was a place I needed to be, and San Francisco certainly seconded that emotion. But it isn’t just the magic of those cities that conjures something so intuitive; it’s like that which “Red” Redding tries to explain in his Shawshank Redemption soliloquy upon hearing Andy Dufresne blasting Mozart's Marriage of Figaro over the intercom system and across the prison yard. Red reflects that he had no idea what those two Italian ladies were singing about, but he’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful that it can’t be expressed in words. Maybe paraphrasing Red seems like an extreme comparison, but the CCCC offers me something profound and moving every time I go. It’s exciting, renewing, fun, sometimes awe-inspiring, and always grounding.
I’m finding this even more true after having served as a documentarian for the last couple of years. I feel more connected to the CCCC and the people involved. It’s like a family reunion and going home for a long weekend to my hometown where I don’t get to see everybody I want to, but there are always new people to meet, and there are always key moments that I get to vibe in. I always gain some kind of new perspective, and I’m able to take something away that I can share in my academic life.
For example, at the CCCC and typically, the International Writing Centers Association (IWCA) or International Writing Across the Curriculum Conference (IWAC), I get to see my scholarship hero and mentor, Neal Lerner, who is like my fun uncle. He dispenses sage advice when I need it, and he instills confidence in me when I feel like I may be running short. Am I the only one who thinks they’re fraud? I mean, I really get paid to do this? It seems like when these thoughts enter my mind, it’s time for the CCCC, and I get to recharge my batteries. I learn something new, my work is reinforced, and I get to connect with others who are looking for the same things I am. It’s a way to augment my work which I can then share at my institution further validating my work. I get to meet with Neal, and when he tells me about the many projects he’s working on, I glean a little something from each conversation. I pick up on some thread and develop my own path forward. After all, what would the world be without mentors to model?
I also don’t think I’m alone as somebody who works at a university where I’m one of the few compositionists in the writing program. It’s an odd thing, for sure, but it’s also one that can be relished as a CCCC regular. It’s about learning and sharing what I’ve found at the CCCC that may enhance my colleagues’ practices as well. Over the years, this has ranged from developing service-learning and Writing Across the Curriculum/Writing in the Disciplines (WAC/WID) initiatives to developing an Open Educational Resources (OER) page for my students or discovering new ways to engage with new technologies that have become so instrumental in our field. And all of this goes toward the greater good: the students, who are the ultimate beneficiaries of the CCCC. From the great Don Murray, we know that the writing classroom belongs to the students. Everything we gain from the CCCC can be great in lots of ways (for our students, for the institution, for the field) if we’re willing to explore and experiment with that which we take away from our CCCC ecosystem. In this way, there is a rich symmetry between my CCCC family and my immediate family. The CCCC provides me with new ideas to pursue as I search for new ways to define my practice, and my immediate family acts as a press pool to whom I report to every once in a while. With each audience, I refine my ideas in real-time. Family sounding boards help me hone my thoughts and practice with this dialogue, which, in turn, creates opportunities for others at my institution to learn from my experiences.
To this end, sometimes at the CCCC family reunion, I’ll see somebody akin to a distant cousin—the one I only communicate with through e-mail, which further illustrates the larger dialectic in my life. In this way, Lila Naydan became profoundly influential in my professional life when I was writing my dissertation in 2017. I came across her article arguing for the use of activist rhetoric to develop the writing center’s ethos (Naydan 30). I was so moved by this piece that I devoted a whole chapter to the idea that we are currently in an activist period of writing center development. With the rise of authoritarian positioning here at home, this is important for our times with many academics, rightfully, feeling the exigence for a renewed commitment to social justice. At a critical juncture like our current times, an emerging pedagogy of activism that promotes equitable practices is that much more important. I’ve written about these things, and Lila has been kind enough to read my manuscript and provide valuable feedback.
This is really one of the most powerful opportunities the CCCC offers. Attendees have opportunities to meet those who have inspired them, chat with them, and develop kinship in myriad ways whether it is through continued conversations or using our letters (articles) to keep a conversation moving. This is what cousins, brothers, and sisters do. They learn from each other, challenge one another, and forge bonds in unpredictable ways. These bonds, through the CCCC, help others explore new possibilities, and as a result, the circle keeps growing and forming, unbroken.
Other times, one of those cousins, around my age, may bring one of her girlfriends to the reunion, and though the cousin has mentioned her girlfriend several times, I’ve only heard about them. Then, she shows up at the reunion. I’m immediately drawn to her, so we talk and share our views on the work we’re doing. Her poise is intoxicating. Her conviction in the field is boundless and like-minded. Our conversation continues throughout the day, and when she leaves, I understand I may never see her again, but I’ve become tangled up in her talk. The reaction to that unmistakable visceral experience plays on a never-ending continuum. It’s real.
Quite possibly, this overly romanticizes encounters at the CCCC, but I’m not convinced it’s all exaggeration. People meet in organic ways. Rules or expectations don’t really exist when it comes to human relations, and for me, the CCCC has offered opportunities to develop working and personal relationships that I believe will last lifetimes. Families endure, and our conversations may go on long after we leave the material world, and others will find our conversations just as exhilarating as we did when we entered them. This is inspiring.
Like a family reunion, the CCCC offers attendees a chance to get back to their roots. The study of Composition is rich in its history, and when we dive into it, we may find something a fun uncle says that will encourage us, or we’ll read a letter from a cousin who inspires us. And maybe, we’ll become so enamored with a friend of the family, we’ll lose ourselves, becoming completely vulnerable to our impulses. Those vulnerabilities are powerful; once vulnerabilities are exposed, rules be damned.
Here's the thing: Many things can happen at the CCCC, and they can all be good things. Let the spirit wander. Let creativity grab that which presents itself. And if we’re lucky, we may all get a chance to be vulnerable.
Work Cited
Naydan, Liliana M. “Toward a Rhetoric of Labor Activism in College and University Writing Centers.” Praxis, vol. 14, no. 2, 2017, pp. 29-36. https://www.praxisuwc.com/naydan-142.