Reclaiming the Writing Process: Tutoring for Survivance and Sovereignty in the Era of GenAI

Teresa Gebers, Saddleback Community College 
Wendy Pias, University of Hawai‘i Maui College 
Rhea Soifua, University of Hawai‘i – West Oahu
Kandi Klein Timothy, University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa
Isaac K Wang, University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa

Abstract 

The widespread adoption of GenAI tools has the potential to reproduce hegemonic and colonial discourse as the writing process is radically disrupted. As a writing center in an Indigenous-serving institution, we address GenAI’s reproduction of privileged discourses through framing writing as a conscious political act of survivance and work to re-establishing writers’ rhetorical sovereignty through place-based pedagogy. In this praxis-oriented piece, we demonstrate how writing centers can use their values as a foundation to develop strategies that empower GenAI users to re-enter the writing process and reclaim agency.

Keywords: writing centers, GenAI, place-based pedagogy, sovereignty, survivance

Introduction 

The replacement of student writing with AI-generated text has become an unavoidable issue for writing centers. The approach our center is taking to engaging with Generative Artificial Intelligence (GenAI) focuses on reestablishing client sovereignty through the validation of local knowledges, specifically Indigenous and Kanaka Maoli 1 2 values that foreground reciprocal relationships between writer, community, and land. Since our writing center was relaunched in 2012, place-based knowledges and Indigenous pedagogical frameworks that celebrate diverse ways of thinking and writing have been central to how we conceive the work of tutoring. We believe the kairotic technological moment writing center practitioners collectively face calls for not only big picture attempts to contextualize the seismic shifts for writing centers (Johnson et al., 2024), but also a reaffirmation of locally situated values of our individual centers. To put it another way, there are unique implications of GenAI for every context in which we live and work. Through reflecting on our center’s values and commitments, we3 have developed a model for how tutors in our center can help writers reengage in the writing process, foregrounding client voices in collaboration with GenAI and pushing back against the reproduction of privileged forms of knowledge. Our model is not meant to be universal or transferable without adaptation. What we hope to show is how grounding a response to GenAI in a specific place—with all of its complicated history and current complexities—can enable a writing center to craft a stance towards GenAI that meets the unique needs of its student body. This essay situates our pedagogical orientation in theories of survivance and place-based pedagogy, explores the impact of GenAI on the process and product of writing, and provides examples of strategies for empowering writers to reclaim the writing process through validating diverse languages and knowledges.

Background

When GenAI was introduced to the broader public at the end of 2022, it provoked a flurry of responses attempting to assess the impact of an obviously disruptive new technology. While many early high-profile responses to GenAI, such as Stephen Marche’s (2022) “The College Essay is Dead,” took an apocalyptic tone, the initial reaction from writing center folks was largely thoughtful curiosity. In a response on a WCenter listserv thread soon after ChatGPT was launched, writing center director Yvonne Lee (2023) stated:

Personally, I think this could actually be a useful tool for writers of all kinds. . . it will likely be abused for a time in that student writers will think the AI’s text sounds much stronger than their own and they will turn it in as is. Eventually, especially if writing instructors and supporters don’t simply and automatically write it off as “bad,” it can be used as a good starting point and way to begin to practice growing as a writer.

The inquisitive and practical tone typified by this response foreshadowed the direction writing center studies as a whole is moving in response to GenAI (Lindberg & Domingues, 2024). Although there are (sometimes strong) concerns and critiques raised regarding GenAI in the writing center, the general consensus is that because GenAI is here to stay our centers must adapt.

Pragmatic critique also seems to be the direction the broader field of rhetoric and composition is leaning. In their groundbreaking collection TextGenEd, Annette Vee, Tim Laquintano, and Carly Schnitzler (2023) outline possible responses to GenAI and assess each. They argue that while prohibition (the attempt to completely refuse GenAI) will not be feasible in the near future, leaning in (an uncritical embrace of GenAI) is likely to disempower writers and educators. The option that Vee et al. see as most viable is critical exploration, which they define as “prob[ing] the limits of the technology while learning how to use it” (“Potential Paths” section, n.p). A similar orientation is reflected in the third working paper of the MLA-CCCC Joint Task Force on Writing and AI (2024), which recommends that educators work to help students develop “GAI Literacies” (p. 6). Of particular interest to us is the nod the Task Force (2024) gives to critical GenAI literacy, which they define as “a set of skills and an orientation that might include skepticism, questioning, situatedness, and an awareness of power” (p. 21). 

Given sharp criticisms by scholars such as Antonio Byrd (2023), developing critical GenAI literacy and helping our clients do the same seems the most ethical response to the students we serve. Our campus has a majority minority population, with around 75% of undergraduate students identifying as non-white and 16% of students identifying as Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander. In working with an incredibly diverse student body ethnically, culturally, and linguistically, we are often painfully aware of language politics that send students through our doors with essays marked “R” for revise or “I stopped reading here” due to failing to meet instructor expectations for Standard American English (SAE). In working with these students, our center has for over a decade sought to find ways to support linguistic justice, rather than simply helping shave off edges so that all texts and writers fit into a square hole. 

One of the texts that has grounded the tutor training course in our center is Bawarshi and Pelkowski’s (1999) classic critique of the ways writing centers work to assimilate and acculturate writers. What Bawarshi and Pelkowski argue instead is for writing centers to serve as a kind of borderland or mestiza that supports students in acquiring a critical consciousness, allowing them to negotiate the terms of their acquisition of academic discourse. The goal of this kind of center is to allow students to become “critical of discursive formations and how they are in the service of reproducing certain power relationships (filiations), as well as critical of one’s own subject positions and social relations within these formations” (p. 43). Given that nearly every student in the future will be exposed to GenAI, if not a fluent user, we believe it is imperative to help foster in the writers who visit our center the critical consciousness and agency necessary to self-reflectively choose when and how to use the technology4. 

At the 2024 IWCA Collaborative in Spokane, Washington, we raised the idea of revisiting individual writing centers’ values as a way to refocus on the goals of our writing centers in the era of GenAI. To that end, we asked participants to reflect and write on the following questions: 

• • What unique ways of knowing or being in the world does your center value?
  •  How do your center’s values relate to your center’s process? 
  • Where does GenAI enter or disrupt this process? 
  • How might you center client voices in collaboration with GenAI? 

At the time we put together this presentation, we deeply felt that we needed to have a way to carefully contextualize the issue of GenAI for our local context. While there is much useful work being produced on GenAI, some of which is discussed above, the purpose of this piece is not primarily to engage with the broader body of scholarship, but instead to consider how turning towards the local context can help shape a writing center’s response to GenAI. Indeed, any attempt to develop a legitimate critical response to GenAI must understand it in situ. The questions above were (and are) also helping us shape our own approach to GenAI, and we believe they could be helpful to other centers grappling with the changing landscape of writing. What follows is our attempt to work through these questions.

Defining and Contextualizing our Pedagogy 

Our center is located on the illegally occupied land of the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi. Because of our attunement to this fact, we5 choose to prioritize and be informed by Indigenous knowledge and pedagogical frameworks. This orientation helps us encourage writing center clients and consultants to connect with their own genealogies and celebrate a multiplicity of ways of knowing and expression, particularly those that are not always seen or valued in academia. To facilitate this goal, survivance and place-based pedagogy are two concepts that guide our sessions and we believe can allow students to reenter the process after the use of GenAI.

Gerald Vizenor’s (1999) concept of survivance grounds our approach to reentering the writing process after GenAI. Survivance, which is a portmanteau of survival and resistance, is defined by Vizenor (1999) as “active sense of presence, the continuance of native stories. . . the renunciations of dominance, tragedy, and victimry” (p. vii). While narratives highlighting the victimhood of Indigenous peoples are widespread and often disempowering, survivance reframes those narratives by demonstrating the dynamic presence and agency of Native people (Goodyear-Ka‘ōpua, 2016). We believe that by reframing writing center clients’ interaction with GenAI as a conscious political act of survivance, we can help students resist the reproduction of privileged discourses (D’Agostino, 2023) and reclaim their agency. In the words of Malea Powell (2002), stories have the ability to, “make, re-make, un-make the world” (p. 396). While it is possible to focus on the ways that GenAI can flatten marginalized epistemologies and language practices, which is particularly problematic in context of Hawai‘i’s colonization, seeing through the lens of survivance opens up possibilities for writers to tell their stories by simultaneously resisting and productively using GenAI. To this end, our center aims to actively encourage critical thinking in our clients through promoting the value of each student’s unique story and background.

While the “ecological model of writing” that Marilyn Cooper (1986) introduced decades ago has greatly influenced composition studies’ understanding of location, our praxis has been shaped by Ball and Lai’s (2006) articulation of critical placed-based pedagogy, which closely attends to students’ interests through examining texts, artifacts, and performances of local cultural production. By foregrounding local cultural production, our center works to guide students towards understanding the value of their own story and voice within a network that includes land, culture, and community. Author Lauren Esposito (2012) discusses how place influences interactions by molding the genres, texts, and languages writers and readers use; therefore, writing that can be tied to a particular place encourages students to closely consider the effects of these interactions, while simultaneously considering their intended audience and purpose (pp. 70-71). We believe that through the incorporation of place-based pedagogy, writing center tutors can help reengage clients into the writing process with a more grounded understanding in where and how they receive specific information.

 An example of using place-based pedagogy to teach writing and cultivate Indigenous literacy is ‘Ike ‘Āina (knowledge from/about land) (ho‘omanawanui, 2008). Kanaka ʻŌiwi scholar ku‘ualoha ho‘omanawanui (2008) explains the goal of ‘Ike ‘Āina: “By providing students with experiences on the ‘āina (land) and incorporating it into the reading/writing process, a deeper understanding of how our ancestors related to the ‘āina expressed in their oral and written compositions, is gained, strengthening both in the process” (p. 203). ‘Ike ‘Āina includes  “learning from the land” (Meyer, 2003, p. 8), through emphasizing oral traditions, cultural memory, and relationship with the ‘āina (McDougall, 2006). ‘Ike ‘Āina serves as way to connect Native Hawaiian students back to their culture and ancestors as a way to promote literacy, encourage positive self-esteem, as well as provide a, “reeducation of what is culturally important to know” (ho‘omanawanui, 2008, p. 206). While ‘Ike ‘Āina is focused on the Native Hawaiian learner, this approach provides an example of how to connect writers to their culture through place-based pedagogy in a way that produces a positive outcome both culturally and linguistically.

Currently, discussions on how to better incorporate place-based pedagogy into our sessions take place in our weekly writing center meetings and tutoring training course, with conversations centering on how to support writers in drawing on connections to their community, culture, and their home language(s) in their writing. While our center is on Hawaiian land, many of our tutors and clients are not Kānaka Maoli. Our goal is not to take claim over Hawaiian culture and epistemologies, but to acknowledge our kuleana (“authority and obligation based in interdependence and community”) (Goodyear-Kaʻōpua, 2011, p. 131) to be informed and led by Kanaka Maoli scholars. Agency is always left to the writer, as author Sam Noʻeau Warner (1999) states, “the kuleana to make decisions such as policy related to an indigenous or minority language belong to that indigenous or minority people from who evolved” (p. 69). Our intention behind our approach to interacting with GenAI is not to appropriate Hawaiian values, but to be informed by them and encourage clients from all backgrounds to consider and reflect on their own stories and ways of knowing while ensuring their writing stays in their own hands.

GenAI and the Writing Process

For many of the writers who walk through our doors, shifting away from the writing process to GenAI text production means erasure of identity and loss of sovereignty over the written word. Recent work in composition and rhetoric has pointed to the potential harmful effects of GenAI on linguistically marginalized writers (Byrd, 2023), an issue that holds particular relevance for our center. The large-scale shift towards GenAI as a primary mode of text production represents a move towards a great median, with the potential to smooth away diverse voices and reify linguistic colonialism. In our writing center, clients have expressed that one of the primary reasons for using GenAI stems from their lack of confidence in producing quality work for a particular course. These clients are often unaware about the existence and significance of a writing process. In order to help writers resist the homogenizing pressures of GenAI, we must understand how GenAI transforms not only the product but also the process of writing.

What is significant about writing as a human process is that each stage requires the writer to make conscious and unconscious choices which leave textual traces that represent both the individuality of the writer and their social identity. Most human writing processes consist of identifiable though not fully discrete stages, including invention, prewriting, drafting, revision, editing, and proofreading—or simply prewriting, writing, and rewriting (Murray, 1972). While many students would like to skip to the final product, it is through the often-challenging work of engaging with these stages that an imprint of the writer is stamped into the final product. The reflection and cognition embedded in a strong writing process create multiple moments for a writer to engage critical consciousness and assert agency, determining the extent to which they wish to conform to or resist academic norms. For instance, a Kanaka Maoli writer who is working with a tutor in our center might have a conversation during a revision session about decolonial citation practices and choose to find a way to represent ancestral knowledge in a way that (mostly) conforms to APA citation requirements. 

GenAI throws a tricky wrench in these conversations in that it offers a solution to both the challenge of the writing process and the challenge of assimilation but at a cost. Many of the writers who come through our doors have been told that they are bad writers who cannot use “proper English.” For these writers, GenAI can seem to offer a miracle pill for the bleeding lines of red that their teachers have cut into their essays. A user of GenAI can circumvent much of the painful labor and cognition involved in a human writing process but potentially gives up sovereignty and identity. A user of GenAI working on a draft does not need to figure out how to say something themselves; all they have to craft is a prompt. What is lost, though, is the writer’s voice, along with any trace of home language, such as Hawai‘i Creole English. Indigenous scholar Scott Richard Lyons (2000) defined rhetorical sovereignty as the “inherent right and ability of peoples to determine their own communicative needs and desires in this pursuit, to decide for themselves the goals, modes, styles, and languages of public discourse” (pp. 449-450). As a writing center that supports Indigenous and other marginalized students in their writing, we must be aware that a BIPOC student who opens ChatGPT primarily to get around their difficulty producing text that conforms to instructor’s expectation for SAE is likely to not be asserting rhetorical sovereignty.

When a student comes into our center with a paper written wholly by GenAI, our goal is not to mount a rhetorical defense of AI abstention. Instead, we seek to make writers aware of the trade-offs that come with using GenAI uncritically and attempt to help them to see the ways GenAI might not be able to represent them or their communities, as their home languages or knowledges may be currently inaccessible to GenAI. The validation of place-based knowledge (e.g., an affirmation of a students’ use of ancestral knowledge) can offer a point of reentry into the writing process and can foster a critical awareness that encourages a writer to see their own agency. According to Bawarshi and Pelkowski (1999), students who are aware of the process by which academic discourse situates them “within certain power relationships” are better equipped to rhetorically assess and “construct various subject positions and social practices” (p. 44). Writers who are able to locate themselves within academic discourse are better able to understand and work around the barriers that attempt to restrict their agency. 

Of course, not every writer wants to engage in this work. Writers come to us with varying degrees of knowledge of language politics as well as investment in developing critical literacies. That said, because we are at a moment when Kanaka ‘Ōiwi activism is experiencing a resurgence and awareness of the history of US colonialism is high, many writers are happy to have these conversations. In addition, while not every writer may want to deeply engage in pushing back against a teacher’s expectation, most writers are happy to be given a brief explanation of language politics in the academy and to be told they don’t speak or write “broken English.” In the next section, we give concrete examples of how we invite a student back into the writing process in order to reclaim rhetorical sovereignty after GenAI has been used.

How We Help Writers Reenter the Writing Process 

This section, informed by our writing center’s pedagogical commitments, outlines strategies for consultants to guide clients who have used GenAI back into the writing process, helping them assert their individual voices and situate their work within their unique epistemological and cultural frameworks. This process may begin during a session when a client either shares that their writing is the product of GenAI, or the work appears to be a product of GenAI. By reframing the use of GenAI as a dialogic and relational process through reflective questioning, our consultants can encourage clients to engage critically with GenAI as a partner rather than as an authority and to position writing as a political act that resists dominant and colonial narratives. This reflective and dialogic questioning fosters a deeper understanding of the client’s knowledge sources and meaning-making processes, creating opportunities for consultants to model ethical research and writing practices.

1) Challenging the Authority of GenAI: Reframing GenAI as an Unreliable “Collaborator”

If it seems that a writer has used GenAI to produce a text, one potential way a consultant may help them step back into the writing process is through reframing GenAI as an unreliable collaborator rather than an author capable of producing finished writing. Drawing on Meyer’s (2001) idea that knowledge emerges from dialogue and Simpson’s (2014) belief that meaning comes from a web of interdependent relationships, not mere content or data, writers are encouraged to work with GenAI as a partner in knowledge creation, engaging with it through discussions that foster interconnectedness and reciprocity. Recognizing GenAI as a biased producer of knowledge (not unlike humans) can be a useful way to help clients take control of their own writing. This approach asks students who bring in AI-generated work to consider the biases of GenAI as a knowledge source and asks them to engage with GenAI as they would any other non-scholarly source. 

Modeling Questions in the Session

In a session, we reframe use of GenAI as an interactive dialogue with an imperfect conversation partner and encourage clients to explore different perspectives and question the origins of the knowledge presented. By demonstrating how they would engage with the GenAI developed text, the consultant models how the client can navigate GenAI’s contributions by weighting GenAI’s insights against established knowledge and personal understanding. In doing so the consultant is able to highlight the importance of engaging with GenAI (and any source) as an active participant in the conversation, not just a passive recipient of information. The consultant may begin by asking the client questions that situate GenAI as a collaborator in the client’s thinking process. For example: 

• • “How did your interactions with GenAI build your knowledge? In writing this did GenAI share any unexpected perspectives or ideas with you?”
  • “How might you have written this differently if you were doing it on your own?” 
  • “Do you feel that GenAI can adequately speak for your perspective on this topic?” 

Questions such as these ask clients to consider GenAI as a collaborator rather than as a perfect writing tool. By asking students to consider why they would trust someone else to write on a topic for them, consultants can open the door for a discussion about what parts of the writing process GenAI might effectively supplement and where it might be hiding their perspectives. This conversation can lead into helping clients explore techniques and methods that help them put their own voices back into writing. 

Consultants might also engage clients in discussions about how the biases inherent in GenAI reflect larger systems of power and privilege. By naming these systems and their influence on the writing process, consultants can position their pedagogical approach as one that actively resists reproducing dominant colonial narratives. Positioning GenAI as a collaborator that can mirror how clients develop knowledge through interactions with human and non-human entities reframes our connection to GenAI as a relationship—one that has its upsides and downsides. Modeling this type of interaction can also serve as an example for helping clients to consider where their knowledge comes from and the process through which they make meaning through writing.

2) Reframing Writing With (and Against) GenAI as a Political Act

By adapting Kū Kahakalau’s (2017) Pedagogy of Aloha, which frames “the teacher as a researcher, guide and co-learner who ensures students have fun while exploring new knowledge, using culture, the environment and real life as sources of learning,” consultants can make use of GenAI developed writing by exploring the work alongside the student as a co-learner (p. 188). This collaborative exploration engages with Vizenor’s (1999) notion of survivance by positioning both student and consultant as active agents who resist the passivity of dominant, colonial knowledge production. By acknowledging the bias in GenAI produced text, writing center consultants can ask clients to further consider how their own ways of knowing can interrupt and resist privileged and dominant forms of knowledge. These conversations are sometimes explicit, but rarely use technical terminology. Instead, a tutor might do something like prompting a writer to push back on GenAI (or textbook) “facts” that contradict the history of a place they received from a kupuna. In this sense, consultants can play both the roles of a “co-learner” and “reliable validator of knowledge,” while helping the client reclaim agency and challenge the dominance of colonial knowledge (Kahakalau, 2017, p. 189).

Modeling Questions in the Session

Reframing writing as a political act may begin with consultants being transparent with clients about the pedagogical aims of the session; this may take the form of explaining that the exploration of their knowledges is not only a metacognitive exercise but also an act of survivance as it ensures the continuity and celebration of diverse ways of knowing and being. Questions consultants may ask include:

• • “How does this piece of writing connect with your own values or the values you observe in your community?” 

• • “Whose voices are prioritized in this piece? How can we amplify your own perspective?” 

These types of questions encourage clients to build an ongoing awareness of the relationship between the text, writer, and political context. When approaching AI generated texts, being mindful of the ways in which traditional narratives have been constructed can help the writer bring in alternative viewpoints and reclaim agency over their writing. Consultants can frame these questions as part of the writing center’s larger intentional practice of valuing place-based and non-dominant forms of knowledge. By explicitly linking these practices to the broader political aims of resisting dominant epistemologies, consultants and writers collaboratively enact survivance by making space for alternative stories of knowledge and identity.

Conclusion 

In our efforts to acknowledge and center rhetorical sovereignty in the wake of GenAI and its potential to enact a new linguistic colonialism via erasure of a writer’s identity from a text, our praxis works to strengthen client confidence in their own voice and knowledge through dialogic questions that help writers reenter the writing process. In doing so, our consultants relegate GenAI to the position of a potential collaborator as opposed to that of an authority. While this approach to GenAI is grounded in our value for place-based knowledge, recognition of the colonial history of Hawai‘i, and survivance, we believe that as any writing center refocuses on its own unique values, it will be able to articulate effective approaches consultants can use to address texts that are increasingly likely to have been (in part or in whole) generated by AI. In reifying a center’s values in sessions, the return to a core concept of writing centers—process over product—offers a way for tutors to think about how they can help writers critically engage with how a text is collaboratively produced or written.  Being cognizant of the potential harms of GenAI and addressing them head on using locally situated values as a basis for a writing center’s approach gives consultants a solid foundation for empowering clients to see the value of a return to the writing process as they reclaim their agency and voice.

Acknowledgement

We wish to thank T.J. Ruzicka for his invaluable contribution to the IWCA Collaborative panel that served as the foundation for this piece as well as his work on the proposal. 

Notes

1. Kānaka Maoli, Kānaka ‘Ōiwi, and Native Hawaiians all refer to the Indigenous people of Hawai‘i.
2.  Because we write from Hawai‘i where Ōlelo Hawai‘i is not a foreign language, we do not use italics for Hawaiian words.
3. Three of the authors of this piece were MA students working in the writing center, one was an MA student closely connected to the writing center, and the final author is the current director of the center. As such, we do not claim to represent every perspective in our writing center on GenAI, as there are differing views even among the current staff cohort; however, we do represent a good snapshot of how our center is moving to address GenAI.  
4.  While we recognize that scholars and writers are noting the affordances of GenAI, see for instance Aguilar’s (2024) piece on GenAI for social justice applications or Sid Dobrin’s (2023) enthusiastic appraisal of the benefits of GenAI for students, the point of this essay is not to comprehensively address GenAI’s positives and negatives. Instead, we hope to illustrate how a return to a writing center’s core commitments can provide a lens for shaping tutoring praxis with AI in the mix.
5.  The authors acknowledge the complicated nature of our positionality in writing a piece centered in Hawai‘i. Importantly, although we are writing about issues connected to Kanaka Maoli history and identity, none of us are ourselves Native Hawaiian. As such, our positionality means we do not speak with absolute authority on Native Hawaiian knowledges. While we offer this section as an example of how we ground our approach to writing center praxis, we encourage our readers who are interested in learning more about issues of linguistic justice in Hawai‘i to seek out the work of Kanaka ‘Ōiwi scholars (e.g., ku‘ualoha ho‘omanawanui, Noenoe Silva, and Manulani Meyer, etc.).

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