I graduated from Whitman College in 1999 with a degree in Writing. It was a program of my own invention, based in a curriculum of my own design. The following is a how-to manual, with suggestions for anyone interested in a writing major, or in any independently designed major

• The Goal
• Why I did it
• How To
• My Proposal
• The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

I can’t tell you what to want out of a writing major, but I can tell you, practically speaking, what you need to consider in order to get your proposal approved. Your primary audience is the Board of Review. You need to develop a proposal that persuades this audience that you are serious about your project and able to complete the curriculum without too much prodding (i.e. you’re self-motivated). At the same time, you need to develop a curriculum that is:

• Academically rigorous
• Viable
• Interdisciplinary
• Supported by faculty advisors
• Not otherwise possible using an institutionalized course of study
• Consistent with Whitman’s commitment to the liberal arts

This one is pretty simple. Look at other majors, get a feel for the rigor involved, and ensure that your proposal calls for a program that is at least that rigorous.

Be realistic. Don’t blow your credibility. Better to under-promise and over-deliver than the opposite. Watch out for extremely high credit numbers (I had 54, and I was pushing it), bizarre or impractical senior requirements, or a senior load that puts undue stress on your advisors.

Think of existing academic departments as islands that you can bridge between and build upon. Without them, you have no credibility within existing departments, and without that credibility you are (forgive that bad metaphors here) adrift at sea. This process is all about finding support within the existing infrastructure, and that means you have to work with the system, not against it.

Faculty advisors are the best friends you have in this process. They are your ferrymen. With them you can travel within the system; without them you’re stuck. They’re also your primary support-circle—there are few peers in an independently designed major. Find advisors who you like and who you can see working closely with. In all likelihood, you will have more occasion than most Whitman students to lean on your advisors. And no board member will even look at a proposal without evidence of proper faculty support.

Independently designed majors are born out of necessity rather than desire. When constructing your proposal, you need to keep this in mind. The Board will not support something that could be done within a prescribed course of study. For example, you can’t take an English major and throw in some rhetoric classes and hope to get that passed as a writing major. The Board will counter any such proposal. "You could just major in English and take these classes on the side," they’ll say. This feeds into the interdisciplinary nature of the major.

Is writing a liberal art? Yes and no. It depends how you spin it. In order to get the Board’s approval, you have to treat writing as a liberal art, which means not merely talking about it as a skill to be honed. There is no right way to do this: I chose to make a liberal art out of writing by looking at writing rhetorically. Through rhetoric classes and subsequent projects and theses, I studied writing, not as a skill, but as a discipline—one that was an object of study and not just an action. There are other ways to do this: looking at writing artistically, or philosophically, or as part of a literary history. It’s not a matter of what you do, just that you do it. If you don’t make a case for writing as a liberal art, you’ll have a hard time at it.

I majored in writing because I like to write. Obviously. But there was more to it than just that. I also did it because I like to figure things out on my own, and I don’t mind working alone. And because I wanted to have more say in what I would spend my last two years at Whitman studying. Yes, an interest in writing was crucial, but just as crucial was the desire to independently design my own major. I mention this to emphasize a key point here: the writing is obviously a large part of the major, but the independent nature is equally important. I don’t want to discourage anyone here, but just keep this in mind. A writing major is not just about the writing.

This is a long process. Know that going in. I spent a good deal of the process feeling dejected and pissed (this ended up being helpful, by the way. Kept me going). Remember that the discouragement is there for a reason. If it were easy, everyone would design their own program. The difficulty is one of the many tests along the way.

I’ve broken up the process into six parts:

• Getting started
• Drafts
• Legwork
• Faculty Advisors
• Classes, Theses, etc.
• Closing it out

I started at the registrar’s office. Ultimately, your goal here is to get the Board of Review to approve of the major, and in order to do this you have to first understand the process. There’s literature at the Registrar’s office that explains the process. Read it. Look at sample proposals—those that have worked and (if you can find them) those that have not. Talk to the people on the Board. Do what you can do to understand the Board’s function, its duties, its turnover, who is the senior member. Get familiar with the academic section of the college catalog. Look at existing majors and find consistent patterns. Learn the rules, in other words.

Your proposal should encompass the entire process. It had better be well written, well organized, and demonstrative of a legitimate academic plan. And it should testify to the legwork you have put in. I probably went through thirty drafts of my proposal before taking it to the board. I’m not saying you have to be that obsessive compulsive about it, but you ought to have a first draft early, and you ought to give that draft at least a month to mature. You should not be writing your proposal the night before the Board meeting; the draft should manifest the legwork that needs to happen to make this work. Whenever I went in to talk to someone about my major, I always had the latest draft with me. People want to see a plan; a draft does the trick.

An independently designed major is a process of revision. Get as much input as you can on your proposal from as many different faculty members as possible—and especially those who have served time in administrative circles. I’m not saying you should take all of what you hear to heart—there will always be people out there who disagree with your concept. They’ll tell you to give up, to grow up, to shut up. But I found that most complaints lodged against my major revealed a weakness in my plan of attack, something I needed to account for before going to the Board.

The more people you bounce drafts off of, the more counter-arguments you can anticipate and deflect. By the time the draft goes before the Board, it ought to be a sure thing. You don’t want an underdog proposal. I said this before, but the draft should ultimately testify to the legwork you have put in. (By the way: I floated a near-final draft by individual board members before actually submitting it. You can get allies this way, and it demonstrates that you are serious about the proposed major.)

This is the hardest part. It’s one thing to get a faculty member to say they like an idea, but something else entirely to get them to pledge their time and thought to a program that does not fit within the status quo and that may have negative political implications within a department. (In case you hadn’t noticed, a college campus is a mighty political place. If these people didn’t have strong feelings about an education and what is entailed in the word, they would not be doing this for a career.)

You need strong advisors. These are your advocates, and without them no proposal will even be considered. I had three advisors—a writing professor (Hashimoto), a literature professor (Foster), and a rhetoric professor (Withycombe). My plan was to imply a wide breadth of study, and it worked.

This is one of the harder parts: constructing a curriculum that is acceptable to both you and the Board. There’s no right way about it, but there are certain administrative restrictions laid out by the registrar’s office. Again, learn the rules before you start to play. And once you have learned the rules, start drafting a proposal, and keep at it. This is an organic process—let it grow as you learn more about the system, and don’t get married to a concept too early.

You also need to construct something that resembles a major. All I can say here is to do your homework: compare and contrast. Look at existing majors.

Really, this is the intuitive part. The only way to figure it out is to do it.

Finally, you take the proposal to the Board and (hopefully) get it approved. Pending the Board’s approval, the proposal will go before the Academic Counsel, which I have been told typically approves proposals that make it past the Board (which is not to say that you shouldn’t consult someone on the Counsel).

If you’ve done your homework, this part of the process should be little more than a victory lap.

All in all, majoring in writing was a very positive experience, but I would be lying if I said it was all good. I had my share of the bad, and probably more than my share of the ugly.

At least one relationship with a professor was spoiled during this process. This professor had been my pre-major advisor and I had taken five classes from him. He dropped me as an advisee when I consulted him in the early stages of my proposal (after consulting the Dean of Faculty, I learned that this was the first time a pre-major advisor had dropped an advisee). Our falling out came down to a simple difference of opinion, and I still have tremendous respect for this professor. But it was awkward and uncomfortable. And it is a reality. There will be people who have strong, negative feelings about your concept. Expect that and you will have an easier time than I did.

The worst part about an independent major is that you will have no peer group. I used to crash English Major barbeques for lack of a better substitute. I especially missed a department to lean on while completing my senior work. My friends knew that I was writing two theses, along with a 300 page portfolio and orals, but there wasn’t exactly a solidarity there. As I moved further and further into my independent studies, I had a narrower and narrower peer group (again, this is why good faculty advisors are so key). I didn’t have a senior seminar where I could bounce ideas off of my peers. This is really the main drawback to an independent major, especially in a discipline like writing where there is not a similar departmental major to latch on to and where peer criticism is so necessary.

I feel very confident in saying that I learned as much—if not more—from my major as anyone I graduated with. Academically, I studied the subject I was most drawn to using a curriculum tailored to my interests and learning style. Practically, I learned more than a thing or two about politics, and this has served me as well as anything I learned at Whitman. I got to work closely with three professors who. I learned all about the way Whitman operates, and this knowledge served me well in both the creation of the Writing House and the reincarnation of blue moon. I honed my writing, which is as valuable a skill as there is, not just in the academic landscape, but in business. Finally, my major looked great on a resume, which was not something I anticipated beforehand but was definitely a blessing when I went looking for a job.

All in all, a writing major was a lot of work, but I would not hesitate to do any of it again. Feel free to contact me with any questions (jeremye@onyx.com). Have a nice day.

The Board of Review is made up of three professors who each serve a three year, staggered term. A new member is appointed every year, so there is always a senior member with two years experience, a sophomore member with one year experience, and a junior member in his or her first year. The Board deals with a variety of different issues—more than I can expound upon here.

The best way to get to know the Board is to talk to someone who is on the Board or who has served on the Board. Boards change from year to year, but in general they are looking to upkeep the academic missions of the college. They are generally fair and approachable. If you want, the Board will typically let you argue your case (although I would suggest that a strong proposal and proper preparation is a better way to do it).

The Board is your primary audience. Don’t forget that. Understand their expectations and you will better understand the process.

http://www.whitman.edu/offices_departments/registrar/catalog/display.cgi?2