In the beginning of Mark McWatt's Suspended Sentences: Fictions of Atonement, the following punishment is recommended by an English teacher for a group of high-school students after they vandalized a party venue while celebrating their completion of A-level exams, and Guyana's new independence:
'I know what they are capable of: they are all bright, creative individuals with wonderful imaginations and, instead of defiling their new country by their actions, I'd like to see them being forced to help build it up in an important area, such as its creative literature. I'd make each of them write a short story for or about their country and will not consider their debt to their country discharged until the collection of stories (which I feel could be a wonderful collection if they take it seriously) is published and available to their fellow Guyanese...'
--A weighty charge for intelligent but considerably amateur writers indeed.
In a mostly positive review I once received from a colleague who observed my class, I was cautioned to refrain from making writing sound like punishment. During the discussion session, I had half-seriously threatened to give my students (who appeared reluctant to talk) a writing assignment if I didn't get responses to the questions I asked.
I saw the wisdom in my colleague's advice at the time, and although I continue to threaten students with writing punishments, I am always conscious of the negative message I am sending about writing when I do so. I occasionally use writing as punishment because I usually get my students to speak up when I do.
I'm aware that what's missing in my threats is what I see in the teacher's recommendation above. He reinforces the great expectations they all had of the intelligent group of students. In his lengthy scolding, the teacher ties the young Guyanese and creative writing with the potential for national greatness.
How do I make my threats even come close to equating writing with such grandeur? Any suggestions?
