Asking for Essay Feedback

Since I’ve made such big changes to my syllabus, I decided to write Essay 1 along with my students, and I’m hoping for feedback from you, dear readers and colleagues.

The essay requirements posed to my students, further detailed here, are as follows: in a minimum of 750 words, and being (probably) a first-year student in a new environment, discuss how people perceive you here at UMass versus how you were perceived at home. Use the zip-code-generated demographic data from’s House and Home Web site to expand your discussion and talk some about consumptive practices. Get off campus and do some situated shopping-related ethnographic research. Read a short essay (either Malcolm Gladwell’s “The Science of Shopping,” about retail anthropology, or David Guterson’s “Enclosed. Encyclopedic. Endured,” a nice bit of reportage on the Mall of America), and connect it to your experience.

Draw some theoretical conclusions that frame the particulars of your lived experience. Your audience for this essay consists of your classmates; consider this essay as one way of introducing yourself to them, since they’ll be required to read it.

So: for my essay, I’d be grateful for critiques, feedback, criticism, and any ideas about how to improve it. Along with the process work (giving students points for revisions made between drafts), I’ve told students that I’m grading their essays on content, structure, style, and their mastery of both innovation and conventions. I hope you might offer me comments based on those criteria, or, also, comments that might suggest useful alternative critera for grading essays. (It’s 1,701 words, more than double the minimum I required from them: what could I cut?)

Here goes, and my thanks:

Sweaters, Porn, and Experience Goods:
Considering the Grammars and Rhetorics of Consumption

Mike Edwards

Ten years ago, if I’d seen the demographic data for the zip code 92310 offered at’s House and Home Web site, I’d have laughed. Not so much ha-ha funny, either; more shake-your-head funny. describes the housing type common to 87.76 percent of the people in zip code 92310 as “Renters Multi-Unit”, the “Dominant Age Group” as “25-34, 35-54”, and assigns the zip code such “Lifestyle Preferences” as “Travel to Japan, Asia.” Average age, according to MSN, is 21.8 (as opposed to a national average of 36.5), and the average income is $14,548. The typical person in zip code 92310 “likes fast cars, bars, and action sports” ( House & Home). gets a double use out of this demographic data: while the data now serves to draw prospective homebuyers to the House and Home Web site, it was originally harvested for marketing purposes, as a way to help retailers target the products in their stores and shopping malls to the consumers in their area.

Ten years ago, I was in zip code 92310, and the closest thing to a shopping mall for a hundred miles was the AAFES (Army and Air Force Exchange Service) Post Exchange. Zip code 92310 is just south of Death Valley in the middle of the Mojave desert: Fort Irwin, California; the U.S. Army’s National Training Center. One assumes that “Renters Multi-Unit” is the least inadequate way that has of saying “Military barracks.” Or, in my case, “Tents and sleeping bags.” And as for “Travel to Japan, Asia”? Well, only if you get stationed in Okinawa or South Korea or Turkey or Saudi, or deployed to Iraq or Kuwait.

Today, I teach in zip code 01003; the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. The average age here, according to MSN, is 19.7; the average income $4,978. Students, apparently, are likely to reside in “Renters Multi-Unit,” be “Under 24,” “Go to college footbal games,” and “Have a personal education loan” ( House & Home): no surprises there, really. In fact, I think that if you gave someone those four characteristics, their first guess about who was being described would be college students. Interestingly, though, also suggests that college students are likely to “Buy 2+ swimsuits annually.”

Here in Amherst, there are several places where students are most likely
to go to for those two swimsuits, but the closest is the Hadley mall and shopping
in zip code 01035. People who’ve been here a while refer to the Hadley mall
as “the dead mall.” It’s bare-bones, or, to borrow the description offered
by ‘Laura’ in David Guterson’s essay “Enclosed. Encyclopedic. Endured.” (Harper’s,
August 1993), it’s one of those malls to “feel sorry for,” being “so small and
boring.” Movie-theater multiplex, Media Play, shoe stores, JC Penney, sporting
goods, kiosks with cell phones and cheap jewelry. I’m guessing the owners at
the dead mall have done
their research, and know what the students from the next-door
zip code are interested in buying, and how much of a disposable income they have.
At the dead mall, the owners know there’s no need for the Mall of America’s “polished
stone, polished tile, shiny chrome and brass, terrazzo floors, gazebos” described
by Guterson, or the brand differentiation among the Versace, Donna Karan,
and Ralph Lauren stores described by Malcolm Gladwell. The owners know who shops
and they know how much — or, more properly, how little — to give their clientele.

The scene is much the same at the AAFES stores at Fort Irwin: no frills whatsoever,
because they’ve got a captive clientele, and they know the needs of that clientele.
Boot polish. Paperback books. Portable CD players. Porn. There is a grammar
of shopping
in such
places, a set
of rules and behaviors understood by buyer and seller alike. At Fort Irwin,
the pornography corner is set apart from the rest of the store, so grimy soldiers
coming in from desert maneuvers — live-fire and tank tables — can flip through
the slick pages of the magazines in relative anonymity, the shelves going up
about five and a half feet, so everything except for the tops of their kevlar
helmets is invisible to the other shoppers. The viewing copy is placed atop
a stack of shrink-wrapped copies, and the stacks are well-spaced, so soldiers
don’t have to rub elbows when deciding which magazines to buy: much in the
manner of Malcolm
“le facteur bousculade,” which describes the tendency of female
shoppers in narrow aisles to not buy an item if they are brushed on the rear
by passing shoppers, soldiers don’t want to touch or talk to one another when
selecting pornography.

The paperback fiction at AAFES stores was placed at the intersection of the
pornography zone and the rest of the merchandise, on flimsy rotating wire racks.
All the books were small enough to fit into a Battle Dress Uniform cargo pocket,
and all genres — western, mystery, action, science fiction, horror, an occasional
New York Times bestseller — were intermingled among the racks. Fiction was
fiction, the store seemed to say, and one cheap paperback was as good as another.
And — while I won’t say I never checked out the slick and glossy men’s magazines
— I tended to go through books the way some guys in my platoon went through

I still do. Yes, the dead mall in Hadley has a wretched and tiny little bookstore,
but right next door to the mall, in between the Wal-Mart and the Linens ‘n
a big Barnes and Noble, and shopping there feels somehow therapeutic to me.
Usually, when I shop, I’m one of retail anthropologist Paco Underhill’s “fickle
and headstrong” shoppers, “quite unwilling to buy anything unless conditions
are perfect” (Gladwell).
I like the description Gladwell offers of shoppers as “a moving target,” because
that’s how I feel when I need to buy clothes or shoes or gifts: I have a list,
a purpose, and I dive in and buy. Perhaps not search and destroy, but at least
seek and acquire. I’m not a browser, but rather more one of Gladwell’s
typical male customers, spending far less time in stores than the typical female
(I went
to the mall once, with a female friend, to shop for some fall clothes. She
was astounded at how quickly we were in and out. “Wow,” she said. “You mean
business.”) Here’s the thing, though: all that changes when I’m at a bookstore,
at that Barnes and Noble in Hadley, or at the used bookstores in Northampton
and Amherst. I slow down. I touch books, pick them up, flip through them, in
what Malcolm Gladwell describes as
the “petting” behavior and the reason that so many stores place their merchandise
on tables: “tables invite — indeed, symbolize — touching." He goes on to
quote his retail anthropologist, Paco Underhill: "’We eat, we pick up food,
on tables.'” For
me — an academic, a writing teacher, a scholar — books are fetishized in
same way that
sweaters are at a Gap store or an Abercrombie and Fitch.

But that’s not the whole story, any more than’s zip codes are the
whole story. Sure, you can say that some people like shopping for books and
some people like shopping for clothes (and some people like both), just like
you can say that some folks like paperbacks and some folks like porn. You
might even talk about what kinds of people they are based on what they shop
for —
that’s pretty much what does, only in reverse — and sometimes you’ll
be right. But that’s only talking about the what, not the why.
That just gives you the data, not the analysis. Consider what Gladwell says about
Paco Underhill: “Uncovering the fundamentals of ‘why’ is clearly not a pursuit
that engages him much. He is not a theoretician but an empiricist.”

“Petting” a book doesn’t tell you what’s in it. The difficulty with buying
books is that they’re what’s called an experience good: you don’t know what’s
until you take the time and work to get through them. It’s not like a sweater,
when you know what you’re getting up front. Furthermore, I want to think that
reading a book changes you, it adds to your knowledge and your experience,
in a way that buying a sweater doesn’t. Many people, upon meeting in public,
will tell one another, “I love your outfit,” or, “Wow, you look sharp today,” and
some people will draw conclusions about one another based on their CD or movie
collections. (Ugh, you think to yourself. Why am I hanging out
with someone who liked
Gigli enough to buy it on DVD?) When academics
get together, they’ll often check out the authors and titles on the bookcases
when the host is out of the room. (Hmm, you think. So he likes Thomas
, George
, Vladimir Nabokov, Philip K.
, and Don DeLillo.
I’ve got him figured. But wait — why all these economics texts, why all these
Latin Loeb editions, why all
these poetry books?
) Again, it’s sort of in reverse, attempting
to triangulate someone’s personality according to what they consume. Is it
any more accurate than Paco Underhill’s scant conclusions, or’s too-broad

Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I think it’s important that, in thinking about experience
goods, one moves from the “what” into the “why.” In thinking about someone else’s
book collection, you’re not an empiricist but a theoretician. You move from compiling
data into analyzing data. Of shopping, Malcolm Gladwell writes, “We
know to put destination items at the back and fashion at the front, to treat
male shoppers like small children, to respect the female derriere, and to put
the socks between the cash/wrap and the men’s pants. But this is grammar; it’s
not prose. It is enough. But it is not much.” Understanding how, and why, people
consume experience goods might take us from the nuts and bolts to a more sophisticated
way of seeing; from a grammar of consumption to a rhetoric of consumption.

Asking for Essay Feedback

13 thoughts on “Asking for Essay Feedback

  • October 4, 2004 at 6:31 am

    wow. Them thar’s a lot of words. I’ll let them sift through my thoughts today and post a reaction tomorrow.

  • October 4, 2004 at 8:58 am

    You’re going to intimidate hell out of your students. You know that, don’t you?

  • October 4, 2004 at 2:40 pm

    Hm. Intimidation certainly isn’t the intent, D.; I’m hoping they might dig seeing that I did the assignment with them. And a number of them certainly seem to already be doing some rather sophisticated stuff themselves.

  • October 4, 2004 at 10:25 pm

    I think Dorothea might have a point there, and I can well understand that intimidation wasn’t the first thing on your mind when you proposed doing this. Since I don’t know your students at all, I’m going to back off from telling you what to do. But I will say that we tend to teach what we know or do best, so it might be more comforting to them (if it’s comfort you want)to see you struggle through something that you,as they would say, “suck at.”
    On the other hand, you are being critiqued by YOUR peers, who aren’t going to be intimidated by your writing and who will gently but directly point out where you can cut, cut, cut. Also, as the instructor writing along to an assignment which you created, is the audience your students? Your peers?
    At ten o’clock at night–yoga time–I’m still just going over your draft. I almost think that this essay could be part of your required reading the next time you do the assignment–a professionally written model for them when they are in the throes of “But what does he WANT?” (If U-MASS Amherst students go through those throws.)Your life experience and your gift with the written word dazzle the page, and if I were an 18 year-old, I’d be dropping my jaw just about now.
    Two thoughts come to mind: what is “home” for you at your stage in life–your students are writing about their childhood homes (I’m guessing), but you write about the army. Was that a kind of “home” for you? I can’t quite get at what I mean with this question, so you’ll have to wait another day!
    “How people perceive you” seems very open-ended, but not having been part of the discussion in class, it might not strike your students as it struck me. After reading your essay, I had a pretty clear idea of how retailers perceived others in your zipgroup, but I was not clear about any other people–or about you–except that you love shopping for books, reading, and collecting books, but you hate buying clothes.Are you the stereotypic college professor then?
    And it’s 10:19 and I have to go stretch lest my fingers curl up on themselves. I think that I need to think through a few of my points. As far as sharing this with the students go, let them know that this comes from someone who only knows you through your writing.

    Having barrelled through all of this, let me add that I like your assignment very much and am thinking of ways to boil it down to a BW- sized assignment.

    Yours from 20879 (but I was born in Boston, so that makes me an 0-something.).

  • October 5, 2004 at 12:04 am

    As a long-standing fan of the meditative essay, I’m excited by the rich, thought-provoking possibilities of yr assignment. But I am concerned that, for the vast majority of college freshmen, there are just too many complicated inter-relationships to deal with here: how does geography affect consumption patterns? how are people’s perceptions of a person shaped by what (s)he buys? do one’s purchases reflect/determine one’s personality? There are quasi-statistical concerns about variance of consumption patterns within one’s zipcode, to what extent an individual is an “outlier” and how that might affect the perceptions of the majority. And on top of all that, you’ve overlaid a there-then/here-now comparison/contrast scheme. And then you want them to synthesize ethnographic research and secondary sources. Don’t get me wrong. It’s all very exciting, I think, but potentially quite overwhelming….(I’d feel more comfortable with the assignment, maybe, if students were invited to carve off a more moderate chunk.)

    But then what you asked for was a critique of yr essay (not yr assignment)…

    I always hated it when teachers told me what my fiction/essays should be about, but it seems to me that at its core your essay is a contrast of “retail climates” (book-buying on the base vs. Barnes and Noble). Yr details in those paragraphs are sharp and lovely (particularly the base section) and yr voice strong and natural.

    You don’t, however, seem to address the central part of yr assignment: to consider the differences in how YOU were/are perceived. The MSN data in the first 4 paragraphs seem extraneous, with nothing much made of the similarities/differences, and no real sense of how YOU fit into those statistics.

    The grammar/rhetoric issue seems a bit undeveloped (What’s the grammar of shopping in Amherst? What exactly would a rhetoric of shopping be?) and maybe a little forced.

    Para. 7 seems disconnected to me, with a few too many contrasts going on (headlong buyer vs unwilling shopper vs browser, male vs female, book vs clothing shopping). I do like the search and destroy echoes and the idea of “petting” one’s future purchases.

    Para. 9 as well seems to contain several ideas only sketchily connected (experience goods, the possibility of judging personality from purchases).

    I hope my comments don’t seem unduly harsh. You have such an abundance of energy and creativity–I imagine that yr classes must be delightful.

  • October 5, 2004 at 9:14 pm

    Holly and Joanna, thank you so much for your comments: they helped make my classes go really well today. I asked my students to read all the essays in the Class Magazine (linked from the main course weblog) over the weekend, but didn’t tell them up front that my essay was in there, too. Today, we started with a brief and easy quiz, just to verify that they’d all done the reading (we’ve had some minor difficulties with preparedness), and then we had a class discussion about their homework, which was to write up a paragraph or so on their two favorite essays, why they liked them, and what writing techniques they thought they could learn, borrow, or imitate from their classmates — but I started off the discussion by cautioning them against seeming like a suck-up to their peers, and forbade them from saying anything about how much they liked my essay. (“Ah, we would’ve never done that anyway,” one teased me. “There were so many that were way better than yours.” I had to grin.)

    But then I read some of your comments and suggestions out loud to them, and asked them to discuss what they thought. They were great: perhaps particularly emboldened by your comments, Holly, they offered useful suggestions as to what I could have done better, and I confirmed that there were certainly things missing from the essay, and things that I had wanted to include but couldn’t figure out how. Using your comments, we were able to focus the discussion on technique, and from there we went around the room, with each student offering one of their peers’ essays for praised based upon a particular perceived writerly technique, and the class pursuing the discussion and offering alternative examples and techniques.

    That was about a half-hour lead-in to having them write “process letters” addressed to me about the process of writing and revising essay 1, including reflection on what techniques they were proud of in their final drafts and what they’d want to work on more in the future, as well as analyses of where they wrote and how they started and stopped and got stuck and un-stuck.

    So the kind and generous attention you both gave me really helped to get my class going on talking about writing and technique, once they saw how all of us as a group were able to consider the suggestions you made and how attention to the possibilities offered by a draft of an essay are productive spaces rather than problematic spaces. (I’m dying to give them Roland Barthes to read, but, well, that’s just me.) Big thanks to both of you, and I think I’ll be taking your suggestions (and any additional comments I might get) and put them up on the overhead the week after next, along with highlighted versions of my drafts, tracking the changes in response to your commentsw as a way to start talking about more advanced revision techniques.

  • October 6, 2004 at 10:28 am

    Glad to help–sounds like a stimulating time was had by all. I’m enjoying watching/lurking/reading about how this assignment is going. It has been an interesting (oh, that word) experience responding online to a paper for another instructor’s class.

  • October 7, 2004 at 3:23 am

    Cut the last three paragraphs.

  • October 8, 2004 at 7:39 pm

    No, but that’s where the piece seems to shift from an undergraduate type paper to a graduate student’s paper. Since the idea is to try to cut a chunk, I think just not making that last move (perhaps retaining a version of your final sentence) keeps your focus, makes your point and keeps the length closer to the goal.

    The substance of the material is fine. I think you just exceed your purpose there.

  • November 29, 2004 at 9:49 am

    I know this is completely irrelevant, but by any chance is this the Mike Edwards who used to headmaster, Barlow C of E Primary??

  • November 29, 2004 at 12:20 pm

    Sorry, Charles — that’s a different Mike Edwards; not me. If you find that Mike Edwards who used to headmaster at Barlow, though, you might ask him if his students liked his songs. 😀

  • September 25, 2006 at 8:43 am

    I know, this isn’t what you were looking for, but I just wanted to tell you that the “dead mall” wasn’t the Hampshire Mall, it was the Mountain Farms Mall – the one that is now Walmart and Barnes and Noble.

Comments are closed.