Style is the outer trappings, and voice is even different from language, which is a manifestation of something. But a "voice" is almost without words . . . it's something in the spaces, in between.
--Donald Murray
in Good Advice on Writing by William Safire and Leonard Safir
What an amazing way to describe voice . . . "almost without words." That's the truth, sometimes, isn't it? There's no formula or rules you can give to a student to "teach" how to develop voice. Not to mention that I think voice changes as writers grow and mature. As Elbow pointed out in his essay, different voices are called for in different situations. Students need variety and exposure to different kinds of writing--as well as different kinds of writing assignments. Faigley mentioned the spontaneity of expressive writing, of originality and imagination.
Spontaneity. Freedom of choice. Originality. Creativity. No wonder students have trouble! In a current test happy climate, these are things that are very hard to test in a traditional way. And exposure to a variety of types of writing and types of assignments? Not usually enough time. And if we allow variety, they how will we standardize?
I can't help but wonder if we're setting our students up to hate writing and fail at finding their voice and their niche. After years of writing the same way and for the same ends (i.e. the test), it's no wonder they can't find their voice--and, I think then, a comfort level with writing. Macrorie's concept of Engfish was funny and yet sad at the same time . . . how many of us can remember writing something the way we thought it should sound because that's what a teacher wanted? Most of us, I'm sure, broke away from that and found our own voices . . . or are actively trying to. How many students do the same? I loved the quote he included from Nietzsche
Man's maturity: to have regained the seriousness that he had as a child at play.
Spot on. If you've watched young children play, create, write--anything they do really, you can see how they become totally immersed in what they are doing. When they play dog, they are the dog. When they paint, they are an artist. And when they write (on their own and not in school), they usually write what they want and how they want to without any thought to what others may think of their writing. They have their writer's voice.
Sadly, I think that the way writing is prescribed in school chips away at that voice instead of building it up. To build up, they need to read good writing, practice good writing, and experiment with finding their voice and making it work for the situation called for. But that all takes time, freedom, trust, and creativity. Not exactly easy to come by in a standardized, test-crazed educational environment.
That's where our job comes in as teachers of writing. To make sure we fit those things into our classrooms any way we can . . . to blend what we know about process with what is required with regard to task.
Ah, "The Space Between." While I realize Dave Matthews is most likely not talking about Murray's concept of writer's voice here, the images he creates of what's found in the space between reminded me of writer's voice. Plus, it's Dave Matthews. There's nothing like a little Dave Matthews on a Monday morning.
Or any time for that matter.