Author Biographies
Phil Choong
I am an Asian American cisgender man, and while I was born in Taiwan, I was adopted very early and have spent almost my entire life in America. I was raised in an upper-middle-class household, and I cannot remember a time when I was not able to use language in ways that are congruent with “standard academic English,” with all the markers of race, class, gender, and ability that are bound up in those modes of expression.
The first time that I felt like I was really able to explain what I teach to my parents was in discussions about language ideology. I talked about how students from diverse linguistic backgrounds experience discrimination at school from teachers who “encourage” them to adopt standard norms of communication. My father, who was born in Malaysia while it was occupied by the British, recalled his own such treatment by Christian missionaries while he was a schoolboy, and how speaking Chinese was discouraged in favor of English. I think about that story from my father’s childhood in relation to the audiences that this book might have and the places that our readers and students are coming from.
As a scholar and teacher of rhetoric, I recognize that our language and our identities are closely tied together. Language use is an expression of where we come from and our cultural backgrounds, and at the same time reinforces our social realities. One way that I view my work as a teacher, then, is to help students come to recognize and celebrate the diversity of our linguistic backgrounds as a resource that can be rhetorically drawn upon. To accomplish this, I discuss the concept of the “hidden curriculum” in my classes to demystify the conventions of academia. Thinking about how we recognize and resist the hidden curriculum of academia has been central to my approach in this OER.
I align with scholars in my discipline who proclaim that rhetoric has always been a teaching tradition, which sets us apart from other fields. Furthermore, I view the field of rhetoric to be concerned with deliberation over practical matters of how we live together. We engage each other through dialogue, narrative, and persuasion to make the worlds we want to live in.
My educational background began at a private Catholic elementary school, followed by public middle school and high school. As an undergraduate, I attended Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois, where I majored in English. I earned my Master’s Degree in Humanities at the University of Chicago, and am completing my dissertation in English and Rhetoric at Indiana University.
At the University of San Francisco, I am a faculty member in the Rhetoric and Language Department, and I also serve as the director of the Speaking Center.
Melisa Garcia
As a first-generation Central American-American poet, scholar, and writer, I approach writing from my cultural and familial experiences. My background plays a large part in how I think about writing and communication, particularly in the context of language ideologies and power. Throughout elementary school, I was classified as a second-language learner because I learned Spanish and English at the same time. Although I was born in the United States, there was a level of profiling due to the fact that my parents were immigrants. I worked very hard to be accepted as a Standardized English-fluent speaker and writer. I continue to struggle with the ways that the standardization and legitimacy of white, mainstream English continue to be a form of oppression in academia and in society generally.
The ties between school and home are important to me because, as a first-generation student and now professor, access to knowledge and privilege have consistently come from contact with schools and universities. I grew up in a low-income household, and my parents focused on enrolling me in any government programs they could so I could get free books, as well as free art and writing classes. My weekly walks to my local library in Long Beach not only made me a frequent and avid reader but also led me to the dream of becoming a professor. I’d like to think that, in addition, my parents’ variations of English are tied to my growth and accomplishments at the university level. Because of these experiences, I always push myself to continue learning from others. Through this, I am constantly reminded that language changes over time and that, especially in the era of rapid AI advancement, we are all learning and adapting as communicators.
As a first-generation student and now educator, I am aware of the challenges that underrepresented communities face, both within and outside academia. While my own experiences have been marked by varying degrees of oppression, I have learned to remain cognizant of how to navigate a system that was not entirely made for people of color like me. In my work with Latinx students, I ensure that they have a transparent and accessible experience with how they see themselves as writers and scholars. Reflection becomes an incredible tool that lets them speak outside of the pressures of sounding “academic”. Through my own experiences and what I’ve learned from others, I remain committed to creating spaces for and uplifting underrepresented communities of color.
My educational background consists of my undergraduate work at the University of California, Riverside, where I double-majored in Creative Writing and Spanish Literature and Language. My Master’s of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and PhD in English were completed at the University of New Mexico.
At the University of San Francisco, I am an assistant professor in the Rhetoric and Language Department, where I teach for the first Latinx Living Learning Community at USF, named Casa Madriz [Website], among other courses.
Leigh Meredith
I grew up in a wealthy, mostly white Bay Area suburb. My mom had been a high school English teacher before she quit to raise my brother and me, and my dad was in advertising, so I grew up in a household highly attuned to language and persuasion. I loved language, too — I was a voracious reader as a kid (particularly sci-fi and fantasy) and grew up to major in English Literature as an undergrad at Princeton University.
After college, I worked for a research institution in Washington, DC, where I focused on educational curricula for kids in “neglected and delinquent institutions” (like juvenile hall). The variation in educational quality and opportunity was pretty shocking, and it was probably my first real exposure to the idea that education could actually reproduce inequity, rather than being an unequivocal force for good.
So, when I went to graduate school, I wanted to focus on language in the “real world” — not just in books. I wanted to investigate how words made things happen. I earned my PhD in Communication Studies at Northwestern, in the program in Rhetoric and Culture, focusing on how revolutions in communication technology (like print to digital) change the way we “write ourselves” or represent our identities.
Working at the University of San Francisco (USF) since 2016, I’ve had the privilege of learning about a whole other academic side of the field — the Rhetoric and Composition folks who focus on pedagogy and how language works in the classroom (rather than “in the wild,” as one of my colleagues puts it). This experience has truly revolutionized the way I think about language and teaching communication — it’s connected the dots for me with my earlier experience trying to support education for our most marginalized students. In other words, it’s made me face my privilege, as a white, middle-class person whose home language was pretty close to academic English, and helped me question my assumptions of the relative value of that language when compared to any other. I’ve grown so much in my almost decade working at USF, thanks to my colleagues and students, and I hope this book reflects both my expertise and my growth as a teacher and learner. I’m currently an Associate Professor in the Rhetoric and Language department, and teach in the Honors College, Communication Studies, Advertising, and Master’s in Professional Communication programs.
