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THE personal has long dominated the lower-level language classroom. Indeed, what would students at this level have to say if they could not talk about themselves, their activities, their families, their likes and dislikes?
Since the early 1980s, research in foreign language acquisition and pedagogy has stressed the importance of a student-centered, communicative classroom environment in which the learner is encouraged to explore in a meaningful way the target language and the various cultural phenomena that are associated with it. In foreign language acquisition theory and practice, gone are the days when students would dutifully complete dry, contextless grammar-translation exercises that the teacher, as "authority or expert transmitter of knowledge," had prepared perhaps decades earlier (Lee and VanPatten 5). Instead, the language classroom is a space where linguistic production is conditioned by the students' "positions," which are linked to experiences that are themselves shaped by the students' intersubjective relations with other individuals and cultures. This sociocognitive view of second language acquisition is equally pronounced in reading research, which acknowledges that there are as many possible readings of a text as there are readers and that each reader engages in different types of readings insofar as he or she participates in various cultural subgroups (see, e.g., Bernhardt, Reading; Davis, "Act").
Although this paradigm shift in instructional methodology and classroom dynamic appears to have taken hold in many lower-level language programs in the United States, for some reason it does not appear to have had a marked influence on what we are doing in the foreign language literature classroom. From the moment they leave the advanced-intermediate language course and begin the upper-level literature program--usually in one of the omnipresent, fifth-semester survey of literature courses1--our students are expected, as Claire Kramsch explains, to jump from the "here-and-now communicative activities" of their language courses to more "text-bound" discussions of literature (130). The foreignness of the text is made more obvious by unfamiliar historical and cultural contexts as well as by the linguistic challenges the text poses to the continuing language learner. Up against this discursive wall, students are often only able--and sometimes barely so--to recite literal meaning, which is generally anchored implicitly or explicitly in translation, simple plot synopsis, or both. Some students, sensing their own and their teacher's frustration, attempt to reduce the amount of contact they must have with the text by begging the teacher, the traditional doyen(ne) of truth, to tell them what it means. And we grudgingly oblige.
Assuming that declining enrollments in literature courses are a result of the subject's dusty reputation in our fast-paced, consumer-focused global economy, many programs have begun to reduce their offerings in literature in favor of foreign language courses for specific purposes or to drop literature entirely in favor of interdisciplinary cultural studies courses. Indeed, the identity of literature as pariah in the late twentieth century was clearly reflected in a session title at the 1998 ACTFL meeting, "Alternatives to Literature: Multidisciplinary Language Courses for Changing Student Populations." The description of the session read as follows:
This interactive session will demonstrate how to design language/culture courses for diverse student populations that connect with many academic disciplines. [. . .] The outcomes include: implementation of the [Standards's] Five Cs, retention of students through relevant topics, development of professional communication skills, and recruitment of students for traditional literature courses. (Solberg)
The session's provocative title, "Alternatives to Literature," can be read as depressing to those of us who have spent many years preparing ourselves to teach and to write about literature. And there is some concern, rightly so, that this focus on alternatives will lead to the obliteration of our field. As Sandy Petrey argues, a revisioning of the curriculum in a manner that includes reduced focus on Eurocentrism and high culture, which were formerly the staple of undergraduate major programs, is "at once a most welcome change and a most unwelcome danger" (391; see also McCarthy). Furthermore, when couched--at least by Janet Solberg and others--in the context of the Standards, a national reform movement that has been endorsed by ACTFL and the AATs, this notion of alternatives to literature is still more troubling.
If sociocultural subjectivity is at the heart of communicative curricula, it is doubly so in the Standards. The Standards stress that effective language use is not just the result of having learned form but also the result of a productive negotiation of the hermeneutics of linguistic communities and an understanding of the nonnative speaker's position in and outside those communities. The Standards also reject the traditional, elitist view that foreign language study is for better learners of more privileged socioeconomic classes; instead, they are based on the pluralistic idea that all students should be able to engage in meaningful foreign language study.
Because literature is consistently viewed as representative of elitist, big C cultural practices that have long formed the backbone of foreign language education at the upper levels, it is little wonder that its inclusion, or not, in the Standards would be highly polemical. To be clear, at no moment does the Standards movement argue that literature is to be absent from the curriculum. Indeed, Standards for Foreign Language Learning makes frequent reference to the role of literature as an effective tool for sociolinguistic competence (31, 34, 36, 38, 44-46, 51-52, 60-61, 64; unless otherwise indicated, all page references are to the second edition of Standards [1999]). In a recent article, "Standards for World Languages--on a Firm Foundation," June K. Phillips explains that the Standards "emphasize children's and adolescent literature in early grades and achievements in a wide range of content areas for advanced students" and, in so doing, reflect fully the spirit of Byrnes's call (in a personal communication) for "literature from the beginning, language through the end" (Phillips 6).
However, as Phillips's observation also suggests, while literature is still present in the Standards-based curriculum, it is not as present as it has been in the past. It now represents one content area among many others. In Standards, the literary text is offered as just one example from an eclectic list of other print sources available for study:
Foreign language instruction may rely heavily on communication with pen pals and the use of a variety of print sources, including children's literature and publications, magazines, newspapers, belles lettres, everyday authentic documents (train schedules, menus, advertisements, maps, etc.) and library reference works (encyclopedias, dictionaries). (36)
The use of the French belles lettres in a list that is otherwise all in English suggests that, while literature might be included in foreign language instruction, there is still a certain foreignness about it. Literature is at once welcome and, whether intentionally or not, marginalized in Standards-based instruction.
But which literature to teach? Clearly the reform movement builds on the momentum of cultural studies and canon deformation with its emphasis on "everyday life, social institutions [. . .] and cultural attitudes and priorities." However, the document's stress on the importance of "significant works of literature and art" (34), "appropriate forms of literature" (60),2 and "works of great literature and the arts" (64) underscores the very notions of canonical elitism that Standards is attempting to downplay.
The near absence of "significant" literature--a term that begs definition--or literature tout court in the learning scenarios further reasserts literature's decentralized position in Standards-based instruction. Indeed, only two of the thirty-four learning scenarios in Standards (1996) include what might loosely be considered a literary text. As both the scenarios and the generic sample progress indicators reveal, analysis of the literary text is limited to surface phenomena such as main plot, subplot, and character and does not take into account underlying figurative elements or any other detailed appreciation of the literariness of the work. The text is used either as a springboard for linguistic production, as in the first scenario, a study of an unspecified Spanish fairy tale (76-77),3 or as a passkey for a historical-cultural lesson, as seen in a scenario based on Hans Peter Richter's German novel Damals war es Friedrich, about the relationships between Jews and non-Jews in the 1930s (82-83). Without a doubt, these activities contribute much to critical thinking, lifelong learning, and acquisition in the foreign language. In both scenarios, however, there is a striking neglect of the appreciation of aesthetic nuance that, as John McCarthy stresses, helps "transform the cultural outsider into an insider" (12). The "literature-based project" focuses instead on what the students can do and on the type of language the students can produce following their reading (e.g., go to a museum, interview native speakers, produce a documentary) and gives only passing reference to student discussion of "various literary aspects of the novel" (Standards [1996] 82).
Standards (1996) was initially a document targeted for K-12, which may explain to some degree--but not completely--a reduced emphasis on literature and, especially, on the absence of focused study in literary interpretation. The new edition of Standards (1999) now includes program models that extend into the postsecondary level (20-22). Standards makes a coherent argument for K-16 articulation by underscoring that students from Standards-based curricula will be coming to college with changing needs and expectations. For this reason, "implementing the standards at the postsecondary level presents a unique opportunity for faculty to develop new program options" (22). However, Standards's call for reform in university programs appears tentative. Sample progress indicators in the generic Standards have not been revised to include college and university foreign language study. Instead, each language association is left to decide for itself whether and how to include higher education, and this leads to important inconsistencies. French, German, Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish offer sample progress indicators and scenarios for K-16. Classical languages deviate substantially from the Standards by grouping progress indicators by beginning, intermediate, and advanced levels that do not take into account college instruction. Chinese and Russian also exclude grades 13-16. Defying any generalizations about lesser-taught languages in the Standards-based college curriculum, the Japanese Standards includes grades 13-16.
For those languages that envision foreign language study at the college level, there is a clear interest in including literary studies. For example, French students in grades 13-16 are specifically encouraged to "prepare a written analysis of a French-language literary work" (211), to "analyze the social and philosophical ideas" in literature (207), and to "understand the distinctive viewpoints expressed in French-language literary works" (219). Mention is also made of the importance of francophone literature for cultures and connections (215, 218-19).
While there is apparent agreement that literature does have a place in the curriculum, language-specific progress indicators for Standard 1.2 ("Students understand and interpret written and spoken language on a variety of topics") are an example of a lack of clarity in regard to how sophisticated the study of literary interpretation should be. The French Standard 1.2 for grade 16 is the vaguest: "students read and analyze French-language literary works, such as poems, short stories, and novels" (209). German students in grade 16 "analyze in detail the main plot, subplot, characters, their descriptions, roles and significance in authentic text (production of a Brecht play)" (254). Italian and Portuguese make recommendations similar to those in German, as does Japanese, which focuses on principal characters and themes (291, 337, 372).
The German, Italian, and Portuguese progress indicators in grades 13-16 simply reproduce the generic 1.2 progress indicators for grade 12: "Students analyze the main plot, subplot, characters, their descriptions, roles, and significance in authentic literary texts (44). The overlap of progress indicators contradicts the "seamless continuity" of student performance from high school to college that Standards now promotes (22) and calls into question (intentionally or not) the usefulness of advanced literary studies. Only the Spanish Standard 1.2 mentions explicitly how students might move beyond their previous work in literature to develop a greater appreciation of interpretive subtleties. Students should demonstrate an "increased understanding" of written textual sources such as "plays on words, social satire, slapstick comedy, demonstrating sensitivity to stylistic features such as word choice and level of formality" and should "use textual evidence to support interpretations of literary or journalistic works such as cultural perspective and stylistic conventions" (443).
The increased--and inconsistent--appearance of literature in the language-specific Standards is coupled with a perplexing disappearance. The removal of the "literature-based project" from the otherwise unchanged learning scenarios makes the generic Standards even lighter on literature than they were before. Reclaimed by the Germans under a new title (273), the scenario's new home underscores that the fate of more traditional, "literature-based" instruction in the Standards is to be determined by the specific language groups.
Given that foreign language departments have traditionally been dominated by literary studies, it is not unreasonable to expect that if "dissemination efforts into college and university departments of languages and literatures" are to be increased "so that the seamless curriculum called for in the standards becomes a reality for learners" (Phillips 6), then the ambiguities regarding literature in Standards-based instruction must also be addressed head-on. This admittedly self-interested request for clarification is hardly unexpected; the very processes of positionality by Standards anticipate the multiple and contradictory responses that are sure to be voiced by various subgroups of the profession. In a skillful analysis of educational reform in the "context of reception" (a notion also vital to reader-response criticism), James Davis urges supporters of the Standards for Foreign Language Learning to consider the social subjectivity of their audiences and to be aware that the major tenets of Standards cannot be presented in the same way to all subgroups ("Educational Reform" 159). The Standards project must find adequate ways to address specifically the needs and concerns of literature instructors. Otherwise, there is little hope for its integration into grades 13-16.
As discussions at sessions organized for the 1998 MLA convention by the Advisory Committee on Foreign Languages and Literatures underscored, the impact of the Standards on higher education, especially literary studies, is as yet uncertain. In the worst-case scenario, reactionary impulses will exacerbate the ill will and mistrust that fuels the infamous battles between language and literature camps in our profession.4 In the best-case scenario, we will use the Standards as an opportunity for collegial exchange and serious discussion about what we want college-level foreign language study to look like in the not-so-distant future. To my mind, the Standards offer yet another opportunity for those of us who identify ourselves as literature professors to reflect on what it is we do and why we do it. The original exclusion of foreign languages from the America 2000 project served as a wake-up call for foreign language educators (see Lafayette and Draper; Phillips and Draper). Because literature professors have traditionally and erroneously excluded themselves from foreign language instruction, it may now take the decentralized position of literature in Standards to motivate a rethinking of what focused literary study offers to our students and to liberal arts in general.
To this end, the language-literature debate needs to get personal. By this, I do not mean continued references at professional meetings to "us" and "them" and to how "they" are keeping "us" from teaching our students the way "we" think they should be taught. (To whom exactly the "us" refers depends on the demographics of conference participants.) This territorialism comes at the great expense of our students and diminishes the possibility of articulating thoughtful responses to the challenges that departments of foreign languages and literatures have been facing for some time now. I share Daniel Shanahan's view that an exploration of affect and positionality in foreign language learning can be used to unite the a priori "distinct" fields of language and literature for the common good of both.
In 1996, PMLA devoted a large portion of its October issue to the place of the personal in literary scholarship. Contributors debated the degree to which research in the humanities is conditioned by the subjectivity of the scholar and how positionality should, or should not, manifest itself in scholarly writing. The general consensus of contributors was that personal intervention in the humanities, especially in literary studies, was an inevitable phenomenon. Some even pondered why, in this postmodern era, positionality in research was even an issue (Bérubé 1063); scholarship, Cathy N. Davidson reminds us, "always has some personal stake, even when unstated" (1069). Many PMLA contributors were, however, careful to assert that positionality should not lead to an anything-goes approach in which we lose sight of the text as the primary site of inquiry. As Thomas Greene writes in his benediction-like PMLA commentary, the text must also be read for what it is, not just for what it makes resonate in the reader: "Let there be then a return of that partly repressed element of personal experience in scholarly criticism, so long as it stops short of effusion. But let us also remember the auditory imperative requiring us to hear the text's own personal voice in its precious singularity" (1164).
While the hermeneutic implications of this personal stake in literary criticism--and in literature itself--are far from uncomplicated, a better understanding of how the personal operates in both language and literary studies can serve as a productive point of departure for a critical rethinking of how--not whether--literature can be taught in a Standards-based curriculum. If literary criticism has privileged the notion of positionality in its various forms and if foreign language education has also integrated its discourses, this seems to me to be as good a place as any to start our dialogue. I ask, then, a simple question. Given this postmodern focus on dialogism, reader response, and the place of the personal in our scholarly endeavors, why have we been so reluctant to appreciate the importance of these perspectives not just for the trained scholar but also for our students? In a study of how almost 130 undergraduates in introductory French literature courses defined literature, James Davis, Rebecca Kline, and Allan Stoekl found that over a quarter of respondents underscored the importance of reader-response processes; 15.6% emphasized the importance of literature in developing the reader's self-understanding and in opening his or her mind to new realities; another 12.3% defined the study of literature as a communicative process among the reader, the text, and the author. If second language acquisition theorists, literary scholars, and our students themselves all understand the importance of the individual reader, why is it neglected in our teaching? In other words, must the teaching of literature remain a text-bound, teacher-centered practice that is not at all linked to issues of acquisition?
These questions will be voiced with increasing volume as recent PhDs, the progeny of proficiency-based instruction, continue to enter the profession. As undergraduates, we learned our foreign language at the interstices of grammar-translation and communicative theory. As graduate students, many of us were trained how to teach language for communicative competence, while we were also developing a highly specialized literary acumen. As newly minted professors of literature, we were thrown into our first literature courses with a misplaced belief in the myth of the near-native reader (see Byrnes, "Constructing" 277-78; Shumway) and have been forced to find compromises between our training as language teachers and our scholarship in literature. What other choice have we? In the wake of the ominous and persistent pronouncements regarding the crisis that has beset the profession, younger faculty members simply do not have the option of waiting out the storm until retirement.
Restlessness throughout the profession may be fueling welcome initiatives by various associations for literary studies to develop special sessions dedicated to the teaching of literature at their annual meetings. My own teaching has benefited enormously from discussions of teaching strategies and technologies sponsored by the major organizations for seventeenth-century French literature in the United States (e.g., North American Society for Seventeenth Century French Literature, Society for Interdisciplinary French Seventeenth-Century Studies, MLA Division of Seventeenth-Century French Literature). Acknowledging a special debt to my fellow dix-septièmistes, especially Deborah Steinberger for her excellent presentation on salon recreation at the 1997 meeting of the Society for Interdisciplinary French Seventeenth-Century Studies, I would like to sketch out how foreign language literature can be taught with an eye toward these notions of reader-response and sociolinguistic proficiency central to the Standards, without losing sight of the literary text as the privileged object of study.
Last spring, I revised my stock course on the age of Louis XIV to encourage students to look not only downward at the text but also outward around the text to its seventeenth-century contexts and inward toward themselves.5 This multiple gaze allowed students to develop detailed and personalized knowledge of the period and also provided many opportunities for communicative practice. The course included the usual suspects--Corneille, Racine, Molière, La Fontaine, Mme de Lafayette--and a few less likely ones--Les lettres portugaises, fairy tales by Perrault and Mme d'Aulnoy, and excerpts from Le mercure galant, Donneau de Visé's literary magazine for the social elite. In addition to exams and papers that had students use appropriate academic discourse to analyze texts, students completed creative writing assignments that had them mirror the style and content of the text being studied, but with a personal slant. For this purpose, much class time was spent on analysis of syntactical, lexical, and figurative elements in the text. Discussion also included detailed consideration of how various literary techniques evoked specific responses from the reader.
In their creative work following analysis of Les lettres portugaises, students were asked to remember their own experiences with failed love and to write from their own place of emotional despair, present or remembered. After much study of versification and poetic devices of neoclassical tragedy, groups of students developed the plot for and wrote, in alexandrines, the final act of an original tragedy inspired by those they had read. They created their own games, enigmas, short stories, and music scores modeled on Le mercure galant. In these assignments, students were expected to calibrate their original ideas to what they understood to be appropriate neoclassical content and form. These creative writing assignments allow, as Jean-Marie Schultz suggests, a means for students to express their own ideas, feelings, and perceptions in poetic form and in doing so create another access point to the text and thus facilitate a deeper appreciation of the subject matter (929-30).
As part of their study of Mme de Lafayette's La Princesse de Clèves, students were asked to read the novel through the eyes of a specific character (see Kramsch; Scott). While reading through this lens, students speculated on the dynamic between the individual character and the degree to which cultural constraints dictated the character's behaviors and words. The creative writing assignments and the filtered reading provided the basis for a study of salon culture that was central to literary production in the Old Regime. Beginning in the 1630s in Paris, declining mid-century, and returning into vogue in the 1690s, salon society consisted primarily of highly educated aristocratic women who organized gatherings in their homes for the purpose of discussing art, literature, and religion. Salon discussion was based on a participant's reading of her work. Her text was then critiqued by her peers. Indeed, some of the most well-known women writers of the period (e.g., Mlle de Scudéry, Mme de Sévigné, Mme de Lafayette) participated in the salons, and many prominent male authors had at least some connection to the salon as well (e.g., La Rochefoucauld, Corneille, Racine, Perrault).
At the end of the semester, students met outside class and re-created the ethos of the salon. Each came to the salon as the character that he or she had studied in La Princesse de Clèves and interacted with classmates, in French, in accordance with early modern codes of conduct and the characters' defined roles in the novel. Without prompting, students came to the soirée-salon with an arsenal of props and costumes. The queens interacted with passive-aggressive politeness. An overly attentive suitor ignited a furious round of rumors. The Princess of Clèves blushed when she found herself seated between her husband and Nemours and was promptly escorted out of the room by her mother.
Reproducing the give-and-take of the salons, several groups of students also presented their original scenes and received precious praise and criticism for their creative efforts. Another student presented a puppet show based on her adaptation of Mme d'Aulnoy's "Ile de la félicité"; still another speculated on the true authorship of a love letter that had been "accidentally" misplaced by a participant and that had circulated throughout the group with great scandal. As the young and dynamic Reine dauphine, the hostess of the evening, I did little more than facilitate the event and became the object of a few rumors myself!
An example of Kramsch's construct of the "third place" (233-36), the salon activity and the creative texts that students brought with them provided for a creative negotiation of the overlapping cultural worlds of early-modern France and twentieth-century North America. Moreover, the activity met all the Standards' five C's as well as the main criterion for successful communication in the target language: "knowing how, when, and why, to say what to whom" in a culturally, linguistically, and historically foreign context (11, 33).
Is it literature itself or traditional teacher-centered pedagogies that the Standards are calling into question? I suspect that we resist a more experiential model of reading and teaching in our literature courses because, in part, we fear that students are likely to make inferences that are anachronistic or erroneous or that force the text into a merely tangential relation to a largely nonliterary discussion. But there are ways to make a place for the personal without lapsing into some baroque, unordered, undisciplined understanding of the literatures we cherish. As Shanahan argues, literature is one form of language that unabashedly plays on affect. By allowing our students to explore personal responses to language and literature, we are better able to forge crucial connections across the undergraduate curriculum and to reassert the usefulness of a coherent program in literature in the post-Standards curriculum.
1For discussion of the significance of the bridge course in the undergraduate curriculum, see Gonzales-Berry; Jurasek. Heidi Byrnes has suggested that the notion of bridge course may be counterproductive to efforts of articulation across the foreign language curriculum because it emphasizes difference rather than linkage (Byrnes, personal communication).
2This reference to appropriateness may, of course, be understood in the K-12 context where some literary texts may be deemed too mature for a young audience. Interestingly, no qualifier is made regarding the use of music and visual arts "(e.g., music, visual arts, appropriate forms of literature)" (56), which have similar potential to disturb.
3Given the complex relation between the oral and literary traditions of the fairy tale, my classification of this scenario as a literature scenario is admittedly problematic.
4For a history of the split between language and literature teaching in the United States, see Bernhardt "Sociohistorical Perspectives."
5I wish to thank the College of Arts and Science at Vanderbilt University for providing funding to support this initiative.
Bernhardt, Elizabeth B. Reading Development in a Second Language. Norwood: Ablex, 1991.
------. "Sociohistorical Perspectives on Language Teaching in the Modern United States." Byrnes, Learning 39-57.
Bérubé, Michael. "Against Subjectivity." PMLA 111 (1996): 1063-68.
Byrnes, Heidi. "Constructing Curricula in Collegiate Foreign Language Departments." Byrnes, Learning 262-95.
------, ed. Learning Foreign and Second Languages: Perspectives in Research and Scholarship. New York: MLA, 1998.
------. Personal communication. 21 Nov. 1998.
Davidson, Cathy N. "Critical Fictions." PMLA 111 (1996): 1069-72.
Davis, James N. "The Act of Reading in the Foreign-Language: Pedagogical Implications of Iser's Reader-Response Theory." Modern Language Journal 73 (1989): 420-28.
------. "Educational Reform and the Babel (Babble) of Culture: Prospects for the Standards for Foreign Language Learning." Modern Language Journal 81 (1997): 151-63.
Davis, James N., Rebecca R. Kline, and Allan I. Stoekl. "Ce Que Définir Veut Dire: Analyses of Undergraduates' Definitions of Literature." French Review 68 (1995): 652-65.
Gonzales-Berry, Erlinda. "Bridging the Gap: A Content-Based Approach." ADFL Bulletin 27.2 (1996): 35-38.
Greene, Thomas M. Letter. PMLA 111 (1996): 1164-65.
Jurasek, Richard. "Intermediate-Level Foreign Language Curricula: An Assessment and a New Agenda." ADFL Bulletin 27.2 (1996): 18-27. [Show Article]
Kramsch, Claire. Context and Culture in Language Teaching. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1993.
Lafayette, Robert C., and Jamie B. Draper. Introduction. National Standards: A Catalyst for Reform. Ed. Lafayette. Lincolnwood: Natl. Textbook, 1996.
Lee, James F., and Bill VanPatten. Making Communicative Language Teaching Happen. New York: McGraw, 1995.
McCarthy, John A. "W(h)ither Literature? Reaping the Fruit of Language Study Before It's Too Late." ADFL Bulletin 29.2 (1998): 10-17. [Show Article]
Petrey, Sandy. "French Studies / Cultural Studies: Reciprocal Invigoration or Mutual Destruction." French Review 68 (1995): 381-92.
Phillips, June K. "Standards for World Languages--on a Firm Foundation." Foreign Language Standards: Linking Research, Theories, and Practices. Ed. Phillips and Robert M. Terry. Lincolnwood: Natl. Textbook, 1999. 1-14.
Phillips, June K., and Jamie B. Draper. "National Standards and Assessments: What Does It Mean for the Study of Second Languages in Schools?" Meeting New Challenges in the Foreign Language Classroom. Ed. Gale K. Crouse. Lincolnwood: Natl. Textbook, 1994. 1-8.
Scott, Virginia M. "Sailing into the Wind: Facing New Challenges in the Teaching of Literature." ACTFL. Chicago. 21 Nov. 1998.
Schultz, Jean-Marie. "The Uses of Poetry in the Foreign Language Curriculum." French Review 69 (1996): 920-32.
Shanahan, Daniel. "Articulating the Relationship between Language, Literature, and Culture: Toward a New Agenda for Language Teaching and Research." Modern Language Journal 81 (1997): 164-74.
Shumway, Nicolas. "What Our Mothers Might Have Told Us about Upper-Division Instruction." ADFL Bulletin 27.3 (1996): 15-16. [Show Article]
Solberg, Janet. "Alternatives to Literature: Multidisciplinary Language Courses for Changing Student Populations." Session 277. ACTFL Meeting and Exposition. Chicago Hilton and Towers, Chicago. 21 Nov. 1998. ACTFL '98 [conference program]: 104.
Standards for Foreign Language Learning: Preparing for the Twenty-First Century. Yonkers: Natl. Standards in Foreign Lang. Educ. Project, 1996.
Standards for Foreign Language Learning: Preparing for the Twenty-First Century (including Chinese, Classical Languages, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Portuguese, Russian, and Spanish). Yonkers: Natl. Standards for Foreign Lang. Educ. Project, 1999.
Steinberger, Deborah. "Writing about Love: An Approach to Teaching Seventeenth-Century Prose." Soc. for Interdisciplinary French Seventeenth-Century Studies. New Bern, NC. 9 Oct. 1997.
© 2000 by the Association of Departments of Foreign Languages. All Rights Reserved.
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