Writing Across Disciplines and Contexts
- What Are Discourse Communities?
- What Does Writing and Communication Look like Inside Different Communities?
- Why Is It Important to Learn how Different Communities Write and Communicate?
- What Are Genres
- What Is an Identity Kit?
- How do I write in different contexts for different audiences?
- Examples of Assignments
What Are Discourse Communities? by Kimberly Smith
Discourse communities are everywhere. They are all around you. You belong to several discourse communities right now. David Russell (1992) contends that “writing is a complex and continuously developing response to a specialized, text-based, discourse community, highly embedded in the differentiated practices of that community” (p. 153). Discourse communities have specific conventions for writing, speaking, and behaving that members are expected to learn. These conventions establish a set of expectations for members of the discourse community.
The term “discourse community” might sound unfamiliar, but these groups are big parts of most people’s professional and social lives. Odds are that you are in at least one discourse community right now. A discourse community is a “social and rhetorical environment within which cognitive habits, goals, assumptions, and values are shared by participants who employ common discourse strategies for communicating” (Bawarshi 5). Defined another way, discourse communities are groups of people who interact for a shared purpose using communication practices specific to their group. Academic fields are commonly described as discourse communities, but the term can also apply to clubs, workplaces, sports teams, online communities, and other kinds of groups.
Although many people participate in discourse communities in their everyday lives, these communities are more than groups of friends. To qualify as a discourse community, a group must possess the following six characteristics, which were first described by John Swales:
- Common Goals: A discourse community has “a broadly agreed set of common public goals” (Swales 24). This means that members of a discourse community work together to achieve something. A discourse community might make its goals official or leave them implied.
- Communication Among Members: In order for a group to be a discourse community, members need to actually talk to each other. The technologies or avenues members use to interact are called “mechanisms of intercommunication” (Swales 25). Examples of mechanisms of intercommunication include in-person meetups, events and conventions, group chats, online forums, and publications like academic journals.
- Information and Feedback: Members of a discourse community use their mechanisms of intercommunication “primarily to provide information and feedback” (Swales 26). Sharing information and feedback helps the community make progress toward its goals. Members of a discourse community might share information and feedback by debating topics, sharing helpful resources, critiquing each other’s contributions, answering questions, providing encouragement, or coordinating group activities.
- Community-Specific Genres: A discourse community has its own genres. These are specific types of texts that members use to communicate and work toward their group’s goals. To learn more about this characteristic of a discourse community, see “What are Genres?”
- A Unique Lexis or Specialized Language: A discourse community uses terms that people outside the community would find confusing or unfamiliar in order to allow for “efficient communication exchange between experts” (Swales 26). These terms make up the group’s “lexis.” A discourse community’s lexis can include specialized terminology, abbreviations, and acronyms, as well as common words used in particular ways (for example, “bench” used in a weightlifting sense, rather than an outdoor furniture sense).
- A Balance of Experts and Novices: A discourse community has members with varying levels of experience. Experts are experienced members who are familiar with the group’s communication practices, while novices are newer members who are still learning how to participate. A “threshold level of expert members” is important because a group with too many novices doesn’t have the knowledge to successfully accomplish its goals (Melzer 102). However, discourse communities need at least some novices to ensure expert members have people to share information and feedback with.
These six criteria make it easier to determine which groups are discourse communities and which aren’t. For example, a group of gardeners who share detailed information about growing food online might be a discourse community—they have common goals, possess mechanisms of intercommunication, and use those mechanisms to share information, possibly using their own unique genres and lexis. On the other hand, a group of food truck owners who have never interacted with each other probably wouldn’t be a discourse community because they don’t possess mechanisms of intercommunication or share information and feedback with one another. Not every discourse community will meet all six characteristics, but most will. If a discourse community is missing too many of the characteristics, it might break up into multiple discourse communities or even cease to function. In summary, a discourse community is a group of people who communicate with one another to accomplish an agreed-upon goal. Discourse communities share information and feedback, utilize genres, and interact using a specialized lexis, and they also have members with varying levels of knowledge and expertise.
Discourse communities also rely on other conventions that move beyond writing. James Gee calls these conventions an identity kit. Every discourse community has a specific identity kit. Shakespeare wrote that “all the world is a stage and we are merely players, performers and portrayers.” We play a variety of roles for different communities. You may be a son, daughter, cousin, student, employee, church member, and teammate at the same time. All these different roles require you to talk, write, do, be, value, and believe in very specific ways. If I walk down to the North Shore in Hawaii with an over-sized surfboard, wearing a pair of jean shorts, and I start yelling as loud as I can across the beach, “Hang ten, my dudes! Hang Ten!” I would be using a jargon and lexis that represents the characteristics of the surfing community in a grammatically suffice manner, but my ways of being, saying, and doing as a surfer are all wrong. I am using words and props associated with the surfing community, but I’m not a surfer—as my outfit, body language, surfboard, and forced speech clearly indicate. I have no idea how to surf, or to sincerely and genuinely communicate about surfing with a surfing community, despite my attempt at mimicking Discourse practices common to that community. Being a surfer and part of a community of surfers is much more than memorizing a few linguistic markers, wearing a bathing suit, knowing some jargon, owning a piece of cultural paraphernalia, and being able to adequately apply Mr. Zog’s wax to a surfboard.
Think about all of the different discourse communities you belong to, or have belonged, and consider how those communities talk, write, do, be, value, and believe; that's an identity kit. When you go to work, you use a different identity kit than the one you use at soccer or baseball practice. Your fraternity or sorority has a very specific identity that is enforced with a code of ethics that regulates the ways members behave, talk, and dress. You may have to wear a uniform to work or play in a game. You may or may not be allowed to speak in the locker room before a game because you’re not the captain of the team. All these different roles require you to learn and know each community’s wears its identity kit. Each restaurant I worked at had a specific kit we had to wear. Servers were required to wear uniforms, memorize all the ingredients and descriptions for the food, and be able to articulate those ingredients to the customers without hesitation. We were forbidden from writing down food orders. Memorizing an order was a way of being more professional and turned every server into a human menu. The manager of the restaurant would administer tests on menu items and ingredients that servers had to pass to be eligible to work. There were uniform inspections before work and servers with problematic uniforms, uniforms with wrinkles or stains, were asked to go home and lost a work shift. These conventions were specific ways of being and doing that the owner of the restaurant valued and required the staff to embody. Servers had to become the menu, to perform the menu, and be able to communicate the menu too many different types of people. As a server, I always had to smile and exude excitement. I had to be able to read each customer’s mood, body language, and tone of voice to manage our interactions successfully.
What does writing and communication look like inside different communities? by Kimberly Smith
All discourse communities have different goals, values, and participating members, so how they communicate naturally differs. Different discourse communities might communicate formally or casually, quickly or slowly, using long documents or short ones, or using different types of evidence and language. Something that’s considered “bad” writing in one community might even be celebrated as “good” writing in another. As an example of how different writing can be in various communities, think about how written communication might work in a science class versus an English class. In the science class, students might be more likely to incorporate mathematical formulas or data they’ve collected, while in the English class, students might instead quote from class readings or reference their personal experiences. Additionally, in the science class, the instructor might be more likely to evaluate students on the accuracy of the information and the quality of the data contained within their texts, while the English class’s instructor might pay closer attention to how a student has constructed the text itself. Both classes exist within a university setting, have teachers responsible for helping students learn, and require students to communicate in writing, but the different goals of each class mean that the texts students produce will be created and valued differently. As we can see from this example, communication practices are closely connected to specific discourse communities. To gain a better understanding of how real-world discourse communities use writing and other forms of communication, analyze some of the discourse communities you belong to. Note some of Swales’ six characteristics for each community. How do the community’s characteristics function?
Why is it important to learn how different communities function? by Kimberly Smith
Most people participate in multiple discourse communities in their lives. During college alone, you might interact with a workplace discourse community, two or three extracurricular discourse communities, and many academic communities in the form of departments like Art, History, and Biology. Because different discourse communities write differently, it can be hard to figure out how to effectively communicate in all these contexts. When you don’t know how a discourse community communicates, you might be tempted to use the same style of writing and speaking that you use in other contexts. You might even try to guess the discourse community’s conventions. Sometimes, these might be your only options. However, whenever possible, taking steps to learn about a group’s communication practices before diving in will make your life easier. Writing ineffectively in a discourse community is a bit like wearing jeans and a t-shirt to an event with a black-tie dress code—it isn’t necessarily wrong, but it goes against what people expect, and it might get you some funny or annoyed looks. If you want to establish yourself as a member of a discourse community, “[gaining] trust through demonstrating [your] awareness of a community’s goals, genres, and language” will be an important step (Seely et al. 292). In addition to helping you communicate more effectively within discourse communities, learning how communication differs in different contexts promotes a healthier, more realistic view of writing overall. The fact that different communities write and communicate differently means there isn’t one “correct” way to write. If you find yourself struggling to write in an unfamiliar discourse community, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer. It just means you haven’t yet mastered the “rules” of that community’s communication game. There’s no such thing as writing “in general.” Listen to Episode 6 of Bad Ideas About Writing to learn more.
What Are Genres? by Kimberly Smith
Anis Bawarshi asserts "that genres function as sites of action in which writers acquire, articulate, and potentially resist motives to act” (p. 45). She notes that “writers begin to write by locating themselves within rhetorical ecosystems we call genres. It is within genres that writers invent themselves, their subjects, and their texts” (p. 103). Adam Banks argues that “Genres and the discursive conventions that comprise them, can, through their privileging of certain kinds of knowledge and experience while dismissing others, can become instruments, tools, technologies even, in maintaining established patterns of social, political, and economic relations” (87).
According to John Swales, the use of genres is one of the six defining characteristics of a discourse community. But what are genres, anyway? In the past, you might have heard the word “genre” used in casual conversation to describe different types of books, music, or movies. Comedy, horror, and drama are film genres, just like jazz, rap, and vaporwave are genres of music. People who study how writing works in discourse communities use the word “genre” to refer to a concept that extends beyond movies and music, however. Genres are “habitual responses to recurring socially bounded situations,” meaning that they are ways people react or expect others to react to common social scenarios. Carolyn Miller popularized this view of genre in the 1984 article “Genre as Social Action” by arguing that the definition of a genre needs to be based in “the action it is used to accomplish” (151). From this perspective, a horror movie could be defined as a movie that scares, disturbs, or frightens an audience: scaring people (in a fun way) is the action that the horror movie genre is meant to perform. Texts of the same genre might share some characteristics—for instance, horror movies frequently include suspenseful music and tell stories focused on subjects like the supernatural—but it’s the action of scaring that makes up the core of the horror movie genre.
As common responses to social situations defined by the actions they enable, genres are always used to accomplish something. This applies to more than just movies! A resume is a genre you use to find a job. A thank you card is a genre you use to show gratitude for gifts or favors. A menu is a genre that restaurants use to explain what dishes they serve. Other kinds of texts could probably fulfill the same actions, but the resume, thank you card, and menu genres are what audiences expect and what most writers automatically reach for when they encounter these rhetorical situations. To understand how a genre like the resume becomes the “automatic response” to a situation, we can think about genres developing like desire paths. A desire path is a physical path that forms when people move through an area using the same route (Fig. 1). These paths often represent the most direct route to where people are going, making them convenient and desirable. Over time, more and more people might begin to take the desire path, rather than less direct paved routes, because it seems like a socially-accepted option. At some point, the path might become so heavily trafficked that a local government even decides to pave it over and make it part of the institution’s official infrastructure.
Like desire paths, genres develop through repeated use. People first begin to create texts that help them accomplish a specific action. If many similar texts are created for the same purpose, people might start to recognize them as a genre and expect others to begin using that genre, as well. As Hart-Davidson explains, “the structural characteristics of genres emerge from these repeated instances of action and are reinforced by institutional power structures” (39). The genre therefore becomes the most apparent and trusted option for acting in a specific social scenario. It’s important to note that genres aren’t set in stone, however. Because genres take shape as more people begin to use and recognize them, the conventions of a genre are subject to change. (Conventions are the stated or unstated “rules” for the text’s structure, content, and design). This means that, over time, the surface-level features of a genre may shift along with the beliefs, values, and practical needs of the communities using it. In summary, genres are more than categories for sorting texts. They are socially recognized methods for action within groups, and they are also one important characteristic of discourse communities, as defined by Swales. The features or conventions of a genre are typically connected to what the genre is used to accomplish, but genres can also change over time.
An individual text is not itself a genre; instead, individual texts are examples of their genres. When you look at multiple texts belonging to the same genre, you can begin to make observations about the genre overall. For example, you can determine which features are required for the text to be recognized as part of the genre, as well as which features are optional. You can then use what you’ve learned to begin writing texts in the genre yourself. To learn more about analyzing unfamiliar genres, check out “Make Your “Move”: Writing in Genres” by Brad Jacobson, Madelyn Pawlowski, and Christine M. Tardy. When trying to determine whether something is a genre, you should remember that genres don’t always have to be traditional print texts. Genres can make use of many modes of communication. The important thing is that a genre is a common form of social action recognized by the people who use it. The concept of genre becomes a lot clearer when you identify examples from familiar communities. Think about the syllabus as an example of a genre used in a classroom, for instance. A syllabus is a type of document used for communicating course expectations to students, which is the social action facilitated by the genre. The syllabus also has typical features and conventions that individual examples of the genre tend to share, such as precise explanation of course policies and assignments, the inclusion of identifying information about the course (instructor name, classroom number, etc.), and the use of subheadings to organize content. Other genres commonly used in classroom discourse communities include:
- Lectures
- Essays
- Tests and quizzes
- Assignment descriptions
- Instructor feedback
Collections of genres that work together to accomplish a community’s overarching goals are sometimes called genre sets. There are many more genres that we could add to the classroom genre set above. Can you think of any specific to your educational experience? You should also note that not all genres are as formal as those found in workplaces or college classrooms. Chances are, you use many different genres in your day-to-day life. Here are some examples of genres being used in everyday situations:
- A student writes a short article for the “Opinion” section of the school newspaper (Genre: Op-Ed)
- A man makes a speech at his sibling’s wedding reception to celebrate the newly-married couple (Genre: Toast or Best Man Speech)
- A foodie posts a five-star review of a new restaurant online (Genre: Yelp Review)
- A social media user puts together a short video using the audio from the latest trend (Genre: TikTok Trend Video)
- A home cook writes down instructions and gives them to a friend (Genre: Recipe)
What is and identity kit? by Kimberly Smith
When you interact with a discourse community, you might decide to adopt specific characteristics in order to fit in. You might wear specific clothes, use a certain style of speaking, alter your body language, or approach situations with a particular attitude. You might do these things without thinking much about them, but whether you think about the identity you adopt in specific social settings or not, how you present yourself can have a significant impact on communication within discourse communities. In an article called “Literacy, Discourse, and Linguistics: Introduction,” James Gee explains that people use social roles called Discourses when interacting with each other. Performing these social roles successfully requires more than writing or saying the right things. According to Gee, Discourses are “ways of being in the world…forms of life which integrate words, acts, values, beliefs, attitudes, and social identities as well as gestures, glances, body positions, and clothes” (6-7). Put another way, Discourses are identity kits you can adopt as part of your interaction with various social groups and discourse communities.
An identity kit is a collection of all the different traits, behaviors, and perspectives that are associated with a specific Discourse or discourse community. As Gee explains, an identity kit “comes complete with the appropriate costume and instructions on how to act, talk, and often write, so as to take on a particular role that others will recognize” (7). Of course, Gee isn’t talking about a literal set of instructions. Instead, an identity kit is composed of whatever characteristics discourse communities expect members to possess or allow members of the discourse community to recognize one another. The identity kit for a sports team might include a uniform, sporting equipment, athleticism, good sportsmanship, and a belief in the value of teamwork, for example. As another example you might be familiar with, think about the persona you adopt when acting as a student in a classroom discourse community. What do you wear and bring with you to class? How do you interact with the other students and the instructor? What attitudes and values are expected of you? Your answers to these questions could be considered part of the “college student” identity kit. Understanding and utilizing a discourse community’s identity kit can help you blend in and communicate effectively. In addition, learning to identify the values, beliefs, and attitudes associated with participation in a discourse community empowers you to resist those values, beliefs, and attitudes if you want to. One advantage of being a novice in a discourse community is that you have the ability to recognize and challenge aspects of a group’s identity kit which other members might take for granted.
How do I write in different contexts for different audiences? by Kimberly Smith
When you need to learn to write for different discourse communities, there are several approaches you can take. One option is to learn as much as you can about how members of the discourse community write for different contexts and audiences. You can then use what you learn to tailor your writing to the discourse community’s existing expectations. To learn about how writing takes place in a specific discourse community, you can read texts from within the community and note their similarities and differences, or you can ask more experienced members about the discourse community’s genres, conventions, lexis, and other communication practices. Another way to learn to write for a new context and audience is to “fake it until you make it.” People learn to communicate effectively in discourse communities through apprenticeship, which refers to “scaffolded and supported interaction” under the mentorship of more experienced members (Gee 7). This means that one of the best things you can do to become a fully-fledged member of a discourse community is simply to practice writing and communicating within that context. You can learn by participating. If you struggle to write within your discourse community at first, don’t give up. Remember that the experts who might critique your writing today were once “apprentices” themselves, even if they don’t always admit it. Practice makes perfect, so keep practicing!
Examples of Assignments
- Discourse Community Analysis Example
- Discourse Community Analysis Example
- Discourse Community Workshop Sample
- Sample Interview Transcript for a Discourse Community Analysis
Start to identify discourse communities you currently belong to now and note some the six characteristics for each community. Explain how the community's characteristics work and function.
Read These Sources about Discourse Communities and Writing across Contexts.
"Understanding Discourse Communities" by Dan Melzer
Works Cited on This Page
- Bawarshi, Anis S. (2003). Genre and the invention of the writer: Reconsidering the place of invention in composition. Utah State University Press. https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/usupress_pubs/141
- Adler-Kassner, Linda, and Elizabeth Wardle. (2016). Naming What We Know: Threshold Concepts for Writing Studies. Colorado State Press.
- Gee, James. “Literacy, Discourse, and Linguistics: Introduction.” Journal of Education, vol. 171, no. 1, 1989, pp. 5-14.
- Hart-Davidson, Bill. “Genres are Enacted by Writers and Readers.” Naming What We Know: Threshold Concepts of Writing Studies, Utah State University Press, 2015, pp. 39-40.
- Melzer, Dan. “Understanding Discourse Communities.” Writing Spaces: Readings on Writing, vol. 3, Parlor Press, 2020, pp. 100-115.
- Miller, Carolyn. “Genre as Social Action.” Quarterly Journal of Speech, vol. 70, 1984, pp. 151-167.
- Seely, Sarah, Kelly Xu and Matthew Chen. “Read the Room! Navigating Social Contexts and Written Texts.” Writing Spaces: Readings on Writing, vol. 4, Parlor Press, 2022, pp. 281-300.
- Swales, John M. “The concept of discourse community.” Genre Analysis: English in academic and research settings. Cambridge University Press, 1990.