(Part 1 of this series attempted to establish that Johnny and Jane are indeed not being taught to write – and concludes with the suggestion that one disincentive for learning is that they don't think writing is important.  This part examines this misconception.)

Although it is still true that "reading, writing, and arithmetic" form the nucleus of early education, we have a hard time selling students on the idea of reinforcing, developing, or fine-tuning these skills once they get beyond the basics.  As soon as they have been exposed to a calculator, students see no point in being able to do simple arithmetic in their heads.  Given all the other ways to acquire necessary information in our TV-oriented society, they don't see any need for developing a high level of reading comprehension.  And, though few question the value of being able to write at some minimal level, selling them on the hard work of going beyond that level is a formidable task.

Every teacher would like students to learn for the sake of learning, to go at it with gusto because it is something worth doing in its own right.  However, even the best students demand a reason for doing the work involved:  "What's in it for me?  What's the payoff?"  The spinach approach won't work.  One can no more convince a student that effective writing is worthwhile because, well, "it's good to know" than one can convince a child who doesn't like spinach to eat the stuff because, well, "it's good for you."  We must do better than that.

Many of us take the practical approach.  We point out that, in an information society, writing is increasingly important.  We are required to send e-mail, bosses expect us to give written reports, many job applications must be accompanied by cover letters, and so on.  We may also argue that, nowadays, when virtually everyone in the office has a PC, we can't justify having an assistant write an important memo; indeed, the assistant may not exist, having been replaced by a PC.  Even jobs that do not include writing as an important part of the work may require some writing.

These arguments all have validity, but they are superficial and probably unconvincing.  Yes, writing has practical applications (this should be obvious to anyone), but is that all we can say for it?  No.  Students need to understand, and we need to teach them, the relationship between writing and thinking (a point already made in "Writing to Think").  It isn't too difficult to persuade students that thinking is important, but it is not as easy to convince them that, if they cannot write their thoughts, they are not really thinking.

Students often say, "I know what I'm thinking, but I can't write it."  We can respond to this common complaint in several ways, but perhaps the best is to ask,  "You mean you can't put it into words?"  This backs the student into a corner – which is not always a bad thing to do.  If the student says, "Yes," one can say that the student isn't really thinking because we think in words.  If the student says, "No," one can then ask:  "What's the problem?  Just put the words on paper."  Eventually, the student will be forced to admit that he or she is not really thinking or that the ideas were not clearly defined as the student thought they were.

Few of us, students included, would deny the obvious fact that language is the essential link between thought and speech.  Until thought becomes language and then speech, it has little reality – at least, little communal reality. Furthermore, it is possible, as one linguist has suggested, that thought undergoes changes as it is transformed to language, even before we utter the words.  The mere process of mentally labeling things may affect how we think about them.  Writing carries this process a step further.  If speech is a refinement of our thoughts, writing is an even greater refinement.  What we write reflects not only what we think but how we think, and this is immensely important because how we think is a considerable part of who we are.

Writing has further value in that, unlike speech, which is transitory, it puts our ideas "out there" in a form that we can examine, manipulate, and change.  Almost all writers have experienced the phenomenon of literally seeing ideas change, sometimes dramatically but most often subtly, by manipulating words on the page.  The interrelationship of writing and thinking is thus so powerful that, as we write, we may actually be shaping and revising our personal reality.*

Yet another argument for the importance of good writing exists in recognizing the many functions that the written word performs.  Pragmatic as we are, we usually look upon writing primarily as a means of imparting information.  However, that is not the only reason why we write.  We also write to persuade, to move the reader emotionally and not just intellectually.  In fact, even writing that has the communication of facts as its primary purpose must take into account the reader's emotional response.  We shall fail miserably in the communication of facts if we bore our readers with wordiness or frustrate them with lack of clarity.  It is not enough to inform the reader; we must also engage the reader.  When we can do this, writing is a powerful tool, representing a synergy of thought and emotion.

Is it possible, by presenting arguments such as these, to persuade students to confront the many difficulties of writing well?  We can at least try.  Let's not pretend that effective writing is easy; it requires work and practice.  We must persuade students that it is worth the effort.  We will never do this by limiting writing instruction to drills and the memorization of rules, though these are, like a musician's learning the notes, a necessary foundation.  We must convince them that writing represents the music and harmony of our minds, if not our souls, and that it therefore represents one of mankind's most important endeavors.

*I am indebted to contributors on the Grammar Discussion Board for some of the ideas in the preceding two paragraphs.

Part 3 of this series will present some suggestions concerning how Johnny (and Jane) can be taught to write.