Abstract
The construction and development of a writer’s voice is a concept that continues to be of interest when teaching multilingual writing. Studies of voice construction of multilingual student writers have generally focussed on the linguistic aspects of voice construction, but are relatively limited in demonstrating the ways in which these students negotiate classroom pedagogy to construct and develop an academic voice (Tardy, 2016). Using a Bakhtinian view of voice as dialogic, the current study explores the development of voice construction of one Chinese international student (CIS) called Shan (a pseudonym) and to what extent her voice was shaped by the mediational tools employed in the classroom. I draw on a narrative analysis framework which provides a systematic tool for exploring one student’s voice construction and development when writing an argumentative paper. The analysis of Shan’s narrative illustrates the significant role of classroom pedagogy to the way Shan developed an academic voice. Pedagogical implications of the study are given at the end of the article.
Introduction
One of the common beliefs about Asian international students’ (AISs) writing is that they lack an authorial voice (Hirvela and Belcher, 2001; Stapleton, 2002). This largely debatable assumption might stem from various sources including: the collectivist culture from which these students’ originated (Ramanthan and Atkinson, 1999), the lack of agreeable definitions of voice (Tardy, 2012; Matsuda and Jeffery, 2012), the lack of emphasis teachers place on voice (McKinley, 2017), and the difficulty of measuring a voice in writing (Matsuda and Jeffery, 2012). Such a view might disadvantage AISs whose success might largely be measured by the way they need to express their voices academically.
The impetus of the current study stems from a very different question: how can classroom pedagogy utilize the existing voice of second language (L2) writers as a point of departure for academic essays? The premise of this question is not novel although it is to a certain degree unpopular and is shared by only several L2 scholars (Hirvela and Belcher, 2001; Hanauer, 2014). A more accepted assumption is the belief that L2 writers need to be taught how to frame an academic voice that is acceptable to the context for which they write. McKinley (2017), for example, states that ‘[i]dentity construction in academic writing for English L2 learners is a heavily guided process’ (2017: 228, my emphasis) although to date ‘there has never been a consistent methodology for how to use [voice] in the teaching of writing’ (Bowden, 1995: 173). Studies exploring the contribution of classroom pedagogy to student voice construction show that making the requirement of voice explicit in task instruction (McKinley, 2017) and assessment rubric (Matsuda and Jeffrey, 2012) are ways to facilitate student voice construction. However, not all pedagogical strategies are effective in developing a voice. McKinley, for example, notes that expecting students to mimic and copy academic styles may result in ‘a loss of voice’ (2017: 228). For Hanauer (2014), this also means changing teachers’ expectations of good writing. Hanauer explained that evaluating the writing performance of English as a second language (ESL) writers based on an ‘abstracted definition of good writing based on first language writing’ (2014: 11) ‘completely erased and marginalized’ (2014: 211) the voice of the ESL writer.
To understand the complex role of learning activities and students’ voice expression, more studies in this regard are needed. For CISs studying in US higher education, in particular, this is important since voice ‘remains extraordinarily popular among American composition teachers and has a strong presence in contemporary classrooms and discussions of writing’ (Bowden, 1995: 173). For this reason, Tardy (2016) called for more studies to focus on understanding how classroom pedagogy contributes to L2 writers’ voice construction because few studies of voice are situated in the classroom. The present article attempts to respond to Tardy’s call. The goal of the present article is to explore how classroom pedagogy contributes to the construction and development of the student academic voice formed prior to entering the ESL composition classroom. This article asks several questions: How do class activities mediate student existing voice (initial stance)? Are there class activities that students claim to be more significant in developing academic voice more than others? How do students utilize these activities to develop their academic voices? To answer these questions, I draw on the narratives of Shan, a female CIS, to explore how the voice she brought into the writing classroom is developed into an academic voice as embodied in the stance she took when writing an argumentative essay. In the current article, I will adopt the conceptualization of ‘voice’ put forward by Bakhtin which will be elaborated next in the Theoretical Framework section.
Theoretical Framework: Bakhtinian Views of Voice
In an attempt to disentangle the many interpretations of voice, Tardy (2012) sees a writer’s voice as having three broad dimensions: the individual, social, and dialogical. The individual dimension of voice relates to the concept of the writer’s authenticity as a writer’s ‘imprint on a text’ (Tardy, 2012: 35). The social dimension perceives voice as ‘created within a social context’ (Tardy, 2012: 37). This means a writer’s voice reflects on the ‘words, phrases, grammatical structures, organization patterns’ (2012: 38) of the disciplinary or social groups. In other words, the social dimension views the writer as the embodiment of the social contexts where the author is located. Both the social and dialogical dimensions of voice perceive all writing as having a voice and the social is an unquestionable part of this construction. However, the dialogical dimension focuses on the co-construction or interaction (Prior, 2001; Tardy, 2012) between the writer’s voice and the social worlds.
One of the most significant proponents of voice as dialogical can be found in the works of Bakhtin (1981; Bakhtin, 1986), a Russian literary theorist. Bakhtin sees voice as an utterance which is:
always a two-sided act. In the moment of its use, at one and at the same time, it responds to what precedes it and anticipates what is to come. When we speak, then, we do two things: (a) we create the contexts of use to which our utterances typically belong and, at the same time, (b) we create a space for our own voice (Hall et al., 2005: 2).
Here, an utterance is a dialogical space where the past and the present come together. For Bakhtin, the interaction between the past and the present within an utterance exists ‘in a continually negotiated state of intense and essential axiological interaction’ (Bakhtin, 1990: 10). Hall et al., assert it is in the ‘dynamic tension between the past and the present that gives shape to one’s individual voice’ (2005: 3).
The importance of tension in the emergence of an individual voice parallels closely with Vygotsky’s theory of language learning. For Vygosky (1967), ‘[w]riters … are continually acting upon and transforming the language they assimilate, trying to resolve the dissonance among the voices they hear in the social network, and attempting to construct their own evolving voice’ (in Ritchie, 1989: 129). In the writing classroom, Elbow (1968), for example, suggests a workshop model, placing emphasis on the development of individual voices illustrating the ‘complexity of language development, the complex linguistic, rhetorical, and political situation existing in any classroom, and most crucially, students’ varied and unique responses to their experience’ (Ritchie, 1989: 128). By putting forward the complexity of the writing process, Ritchie believes it better helps students by providing genuine intellectual activity rather than providing them with academic exercises. It locates the development of voice in social interaction rather than in the head of the learner as in the case of the individual dimension of voice.
A significant aspect of the formation of an individual voice is the role of others. Bakhtin believes that the self is ‘never whole without the defining presence of the other’ (Vitanova, 2005: 166). In other words, voice develops when ‘the self enters into a dialectic relationship with the contents of the knowledge of the other’ (Manjali, 2001). In fact, Voloshinov argued that ‘I can actualize itself in discourse only by relying upon we’ (emphasis original, Voloshinov 1973: 251). For Roometviet, the self-other role is crucial to understanding the dialogical nature of voice and this is established when the self and other enter ‘temporarily shared social world(s)’ (1974: 29). The more we interact with others, the more varied our experiences with different voices and the more enriched is our ability ‘to understand and participate in social life’ (Hall et al. 2005: 4). When we listen to other utterances, it creates a space where we can evaluate, draw on, and make it fit our own voices. Indeed, Emerson maintains that it is only through having a dialogue with ‘a diversified array of others’ (1997: 223) who are different from us that our voices can flourish.
Methodology
Context and Participant
The present study was situated in a first-year ESL composition class (ENG109) in a Midwestern public university in the US in autumn 2017. I was the class instructor and was assigned to teach three classes of ESL composition classes. Two kinds of students could take ENG109. First, it was available to students who had completed ENG108, a non-credit bearing course focussing on giving students a fundamental grounding in academic reading and writing. Second, it was available to students whose English scores ranked within the top 17th percentile in the college entrance exam. There were 18 students in each class, most of whom were business and undecided majors.
Shan was the first type of students who had completed ENG108 in the previous semester. My decision to focus solely on the case of Shan was motivated by three concerns. First, following Pomerantz and Kearney (2012), I believe that by focussing on one student, I can offer a more detailed discussion of the extent to which classroom activities might facilitate multilingual student writers in finding, refining, and even changing their existing voices to meet the requirements of an academic genre. My emphasis here is to illustrate how a Bakhtinian view of dialogic voice might complement and extend existing work in the field. Second, among the ten participants volunteered to be part of the study, Shan was one of two students who claimed to change their positions as a result of the scaffolding activities utilized in the unit. Also, she was very enthusiastic about participating in the individual interview which was an important component in the data collection process in both formal and informal settings.
Classroom Pedagogy
Data for the present study was collected in the Public Argument unit of ENG109. The unit was developed using a scaffolded approach focusing on collaboration and eliciting critical perspectives on the writing inquiry: Which name(s) should AISs use when studying abroad? Student voice construction and development were scaffolded using the five primary learning activities: Reverse-position (RP) debate, Weekly Reading Journal (WRJ), group interview, class discussion on model texts, and student sample essays. The unit began with students participating in an RP debate where they needed to work in a group of three or four debating the writing theme. In the debate, students were assigned a position, different from their initial position written in Namestory. In the WRJ, students were required to identify between five to eight potential sources for the essay and submit a reading journal weekly about them. The WRJ was approximately one page (250 words) where students addressed questions related to an author’s argument, the purpose of the text, and types of evidence used. They also could write about their personal opinion and feelings related to the text. The group interview assignment asked students to work in a group of three and interview a total of ten people to further explore the topic.
Data Collection Procedures and Analysis
To explore how classroom pedagogy contributed to Shan’s academic voice reflectively, the study followed Silva’s recommendation on the need to ‘mix modes of inquiry where appropriate to overcome the limitations of any single mode and to add breadth and depth to a study’ (2005: 12) when researching L2 writing. First, I looked at the primary data collected through three data sources:
The Namestory essay, which is an approximately 500-word essay where Shan wrote about the reason she preferred using a cultural name in the US. In this paper, I refer to this position as her initial stance.
Final Reflection essay, which is the last major assignment in the ENG109 class where students need to write a 750-word essay reflecting on their writing experience and the learning activities that contributed to their experiences.
Public Argument essay. In this 1000–1250-word essay, students write an explicit position related to the guiding inquiry question and sustain the position.
These three primary data sources served as a basis for the stimulated-recall interview I conducted with Shan at the end of the class. The interview aimed to provide a more contextual understanding of the reflection she wrote in the Final Reflection. In addition to these data sources, I collected all data sources that Shan’s data produced for the Public Argument unit such as WRJs, written drafts, and RP debate documents. These forms of data collection enabled close examination of the complex relationship between classroom pedagogy and the process of constructing and developing an academic voice.
Data analysis initially involved identifying broad categories and factors affecting voice construction and development as elaborated by the Bakhtinian views of voice. Data analysis proceeded in two phases. Initially, a qualitative thematic analysis of the document was followed by iterative readings of three primary data sources: Namestory and Final Reflection to identify relevant factors affecting Shan’s and Chan’s voice construction and development. As initial themes were drawn, I then triangulated across the second data source: Argumentative essay and the individual interview to clarify and corroborate findings. The process of analysis was continuous and ongoing throughout all the phases of data collection as well as after completion of the fieldwork. To reiterate, I was particularly interested in the process of how Shan utilized classroom pedagogy to find, construct, and develop an academic voice as embodied in the argumentative essay. In weaving through Shan’s narratives, I utilize a snapshot approach (Park, 2012) surfacing her voice embodied in the (re-)naming practice that she has chosen prior to starting writing an argumentative essay. It should be noted that I am not claiming objective truth. My interpretation is one of many possible readings of the data.
Findings
Initial Stance on Re-naming Practice: Aligning Voices with More Knowledgeable Others
Shan was one among a very few international students who came into my ESL composition class without an English name. Through reading her Namestory, I learned that it is not that Shan has never had an English name but her decision not to use an English name in the US was mediated by several diaglossic (Bakhtin, 1981) episodes with the other.
Shan’s first re-naming experience was when she was only 10 years-old. Her elementary school English teacher, a Chinese national, Ms. Xin (a pseudonym), assigned an English name ‘Sally’ for her. Shan received a second English name ‘Stephanie’ when she was 16 years-old during a one-year exchange programme she participated in at a high school in Charlotte, North Carolina (NC). During the preparation to go to NC, the host mother emailed and asked if she could change her English name to ‘Stephanie’ because she thought the name ‘Sally’ did not suit her. Initially, Shan was reluctant to change. However, after learning the meaning of the name ‘Stephanie’ was ‘crown’, she decided to use the name.
Apparently, her second English name ‘Stephanie’ was short-lived once she started an English class with Ms. Ana, a high school English teacher in North Carolina. On the first day of class, Ms. Ana lectured about the importance of using a given name in the US:
‘I hope that all international students can use your own real name, I do not like you in English name. I will try my best to read it. If I can’t read it, I will learn how to read it, so don’t you worry that I can’t read it.’ All of my classmates and I were surprised when she said this. Then, she continued, ‘The name represents you, the English name is your alternative. Why do you use an English name? … because you want to integrate into US society? But you lose your own name in the process’ (Namestory).
Ms. Ana’s ‘speech’ of the need for international students to continue using a cultural name and her willingness to learn how to pronounce cultural names had an empowering effect for Shan’s sense of cultural identity and her decision to use a cultural name in the US. She concluded her Namestory by describing her commitment to using a cultural name in the US:
I totally agree with her, …[a cultural name] represents ourselves. Why should we lose ourselves and choose a false alternative? Although I do not think by using an English name, I will lose anything and … at a disadvantage. My [cultural] name is from my parents, which has their hope for me. And I want to be myself.
On a first glimpse, Shan’s decision to repeat Ms. Ana’s words seems to give the impression that she ‘espouses the values, beliefs and practices which are associated with that voice’ (Ivanič, 1998: 216). However, it is interesting to note that rather than using a statement to restate Ms. Ana’s words, Shan changed Ms. Ana’s statement into a question (‘Why should we lose ourselves and choose a false alternative?’) which might illustrate a conflicting sense of identities. The negative conjunction ‘although’ might index her soft resistance mainly because her previous experiences of using an English name did not corroborate Ms. Ana’s fears.
For Bakhtin, the voice of the other is vital in understanding the self. Braxley (2005), however, warned that ‘with so many [other] voices echoing in her head she may find it difficult to make herself heard’ (2005: 14). This is how I read Shan’s Namestory. I was unable to distinguish her voice from those of the more knowledgeable others because she seemed so eager to align her (re-)naming practice to those of the others. For this reason, I remembered feeling curious about how she was going to use these diverse experiences when forming an academic voice: Which voices of the others would she ‘listen’ to and develop into her academic voice? Certainly, from the way she ended the Namestory, we could easily predict she would continue Ms. Ana’s voice since she appeared committed to it. Most importantly, I was curious about the extent to which the writing process would give her a more agentive role in constructing and developing an academic stance.
Developing a (Changing) Position through Dissenting Voices of the Others
When asked during the interview why she did not develop her initial position into an academic stance, Shan admitted that she was not confident of being able to sustain the initial stance to fill a 1000-word essay, the requirement of the argumentative essay for the course. While Shan’s changing stances depicted in the Namestory seemed to be spontaneous and immediate to align her voice to more knowledgeable others (e.g. teachers, native English speaker (NES) host mother, and NES teacher), the shifting stance she experienced in the writing classroom was, in her words, ‘gradual and slow’.
Shan started to reconsider her initial position when preparing for the RP debate. She was assigned to the debate group arguing for the use of an English name; a position different from her initial position. In the interview, she admitted feeling annoyed because being in the group would mean she needed to ‘do more work’ and rethink her initial position. For the debate, each member needed to contribute one supporting reason for the group argument. Shan decided to choose ‘having an English name makes it easy for Americans to pronounce and remember’. This proposal for debate would support the group argument for the use of an English name. Shan was able to locate three credible sources to support the argument. Although at this point her stance had not yet changed, preparing for the debate had located Shan in a place and allowed her to reimagine the value of having an English name and thus, she was ‘forced’ to begin to see this position in a new light.
It was not until she again watched the video Day in the Life of an Asian/Ethnic Name, an assigned task from the previous unit, that she decided to change her position. When asked further what specific details in the video prompted her to change her initial position, Shan cited a critical incident narrated by Spurthi, an Indian-American immigrant. In the video, she mentioned that her name was often mispronounced when she ordered coffee at Starbucks despite her repeated effort to spell it phonetically. Spurthi’s experience triggered a similar experience for Shan. Although the Starbucks incident did not result in Spurthi even considering changing her name, Shan used a somewhat similar lived experience to illustrate the need to use an English name. This is how she framed the incident in the argumentative essay:
Once I went to Starbucks with my friends for coffee,
‘Name?’ the barista asked. ‘Shan,’ I said firmly. ‘Can you spell it?’ Although my given name is Shanshan Yuan, I generally only use ‘Shan’ for the convenience of ordering things. ‘Yeah, S-H-A-N.’ ‘Ok, Thank you!’ After a few minutes, I heard the barista shouted: ‘Shale.’ I heard two Americans standing next to me laughing. I also laughed with them, wondering who would have the awkward name. I waited but after five minutes, I have not heard my name yet and that cup of coffee with ‘Shale’ was still there. Again, the barista called, ‘Shale,’ and suddenly, I realized that this cup of coffee might be mine. I approached the cup and it was the same order that I had. I was very embarrassed to take the coffee away in their laughter. Based on this experience, it is necessary for Chinese students to have an English name when they go to places that ask for their names like Starbucks because it can save them from unnecessary embarrassment. (Argumentative Essay)
Despite several grammatical problems in the text, what is significant is the way Shan’s argument appropriates Spurthi’s incident and populates it – to use a Bakhtinian term – with her meaning and makes it part of her voice. In other words, Shan’s argument drew on Spurthi’s experience not because of its textual authority but because of the commonality of the experience that she believed her readers could relate to. In ‘creating’ the lived experience (Hesse, 2014: 53) at Starbucks, Shan included emphatic details – not found in Spurthi’s narrative – that might construct a particular feeling for CISs, her primary target audience. These details included ways to make her cultural name more accessible (e.g. enunciate her name, deliberately ‘chop’ her cultural name, and spell it clearly) and two hostile American characters. In the introduction of the essay, Shan even included a picture of a Starbuck’s cup with the mispronounced name ‘Shale’. Collectively, these emphatic details may have been triggered by her desire to further convince the target audience and thereby she positioned herself as knowledgeable about the issue.
Appropriating the Other’s Voice to One’s Voice
In addition to supporting one’s position using a lived experience and credible sources, students are required to collect evidence using a group interview to provide further evidence for their positions. Shan admitted this was the first time she had been asked to support her position using primary research. Her prior experience in writing an argumentative essay was for examination purposes where she needed to support a position based on prior experiences, common knowledge, and imagination. Her reflection demonstrated the struggle of integrating the data gathered through the group interview with her own voice:
When I started to write the body paragraph from the primary data, I just described the data, for example, 97% of the students believed that the probability of using Chinese and English names for obtaining a job was half and half. This kind of writing seems out of date and traditional. After I read the sample paragraphs about reporting primary research, it taught me to express these data in new ways. Then I went to the Writing Center where the mentor gave me some advice about signal words. Based on these understandings, I revised my topic sentence to ‘Among the twelve interviewed participants, Qinyu Li, a Chinese student, was the only students who believed that although the use of Chinese names leads to fewer interviews, adding English name can increase interview chances.’ This new writing technique will not only make readers feel interested but also make them more aware of the results of the investigation (Final Reflection).
Shan’s reflection drew attention to two primary struggles many L2 writers experience when expressing an academic voice. First, the literacy practice Shan received from her previous education – describing the interview data quantitatively – might contradict the academic position she wanted to take. Second, Shan was aware that to highlight the type of evidence that would appeal to her readers required ‘new types of mental activity’ (Ivanic, 1998: 199) through identifying several dialogical processes – such as, textual dialogues with sample texts and visiting the university writing centre – that could shed light on the one participant, Li.
Presenting interview data qualitatively allowed Shan to highlight Li’s voice which otherwise might remain hidden if she reported the finding quantitatively:
Among the twelve interviewed participants, Li, a Chinese student, was the only students who believed that … using English name can increase the chance to be invited for a job interview […] because lots of foreigners do not know how to pronounce Chinese names correctly. Using a Chinese name also made job applicants not be stereotyped as speaking bad English. During the interview, Li shared a story of her sister, a highly educated student but never invited to any job interviews. She believed this was because ‘most people are willing to choose people with the same background and culture as themselves, even if some Americans have no higher education.’ Li’s response is totally different from the other eleven participants. She seemed to know from her sister’s experience that English names have a big impact on job interviews (Argumentative Essay).
Liu pointed out that one issue for multilingual English writers when writing an academic paper is to imagine and address a somewhat ‘alien, abstract discourse community’ (2008: 95). I found that selecting a writing theme drawn from students’ lived experience helped students to better envisage this community. Although one might argue that Shan’s rhetorical decision to focus solely on one participant might not be significant from a quantitative perspective, Shan’s decision to ‘fill’ the research paragraph with Li’s story might stem from Shan’s familiarity with the kind of information that might appeal to her target audience, the CISs, who may have planned to get on-campus jobs.
Shan’s struggle to integrate primary data in her argument seems to capture a dilemma ESL students encounter when doing academic writing. They want to write in ways that the other voices can seamlessly be aligned to their voices, yet there is often a disjuncture between the other voices drawn either from primary data and/or sources and their own voice.
Conclusion and Pedagogical Implications
The primary intention in this paper is to contribute to the lack of discussion of the role of classroom pedagogy in mediating multilingual students’ voice construction and development. This is explored by examining the degree to which the existing voice of one female CIS was developed and sustained to form an academic voice and the classroom pedagogy she claimed to contribute to this construction. The study corroborates the beliefs of Hirvela and Belcher (2001) and Hanauer (2014) that multilingual student writers are not voiceless when entering into the writing class regardless of their previous writing experience. From Shan’s Namestory, we learn that the voice embodied in Shan’s initial stances towards re-naming practices were, as Yancey explained, ‘not singular’, (1994: xi) even contradictory, and primarily mediated by more knowledgeable others. Due to the way Shan seems to easily ‘change’ her stance to align to more knowledgeable others, the extent to which she ‘own’ed (Ivanič, 1998: 216) her voice embodied in this initial stance is questionable.
The analysis of Shan’s narrative illustrates the significant role of classroom pedagogy to Shan’s changing stance. In developing an academic voice, Shan seems to make a distinction between ‘having’ and ‘developing’ a position. Her participation in RP debates, reading relevant texts, and group interview has slowly made her aware that her initial voice might not be effectively developed into an academic voice. Participating in the RP debate, specifically, provided Shan with ‘polyphony’ of (diverse) voices against which, and out of which, Shan was able to show a more agentive role in forming her stance which was not evidenced prior to the writing class. These activities have clearly located Shan in a ‘double-voicedness’; a transformation stage that Bakhtin describes as ‘occurring when individuals are submerged in a diverse social and linguistic milieu, as part of the ongoing process of ”becoming”’ (Ritchie, 1989: 142) and made her aware of the ‘internally persuasive discourse’ informing her initial position. Although Shan identified these three activities specifically, it should not be taken to mean these are the only activities that can lead to a change of stance. There were other class activities that Shan only briefly mentioned in the Final Reflection, such as student sample texts and consultation with the writing centre tutor, that might mediate Shan’s changing stance.
Shan’s narrative highlights the need for writing teachers to not only be concerned about students ‘having’ a position when writing an academic paper but more importantly, creating activities that focus on students’ developing or sustaining a position. While a teacher’s clear articulation of voice is important in student voice construction (McKinley, 2017), I found it significant that the class activities Shan identified – RP debate, group interview, and a video – as contributing to her academic voice were grounded in spoken language. This supports the views of Andrews (1995), Mitchell (1994), and Hewlett (1996) that the ‘voices of the mind’ (Wertsch, 1991) that inform written argument are often spoken voices. It illustrates that the role of spoken interaction can, in Vygotsky’s terms, scaffold what later emerges as resources for written language. This indicates that when forming an academic argument, students not only draw on textual sources but also class activities that are grounded in spoken interaction even though teachers need to model and allocate class time to discuss how students can integrate these spoken resources to support their academic stances. Shan’s narrative in the Final Reflection shows evidence of struggle in integrating dissenting voices that might not directly support her stance.
Finally, the use of a teacher-selected writing inquiry is often frowned upon in the writing classroom for reasons such as stifling students’ creativity and not facilitating students to take charge of their own learning (Ritchie, 1989). However, having students writing on the same writing inquiry allowed the teacher to create learning activities depicting three critical conditions for meaningful writing to take place. These conditions were the ‘promise of self discovery’; activating memory and ‘autobiographical exploration’; and experimenting with writing and language itself (Hanauer, 2010: 85–85). I feel Shan left the class having experimented with writing that could help her to ‘hear’ her own voice and rekindle her love for writing as she wrote in the introduction of her Final Reflection. She was experimenting with ways of presenting others’ idea and translating them into an academic stance.
Footnotes
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.