Some Thoughts on Journal History

     As much as we know about journals (and even diaries for that matter), we know very little.  I would like to share with you some historical reflections on journal history.

     The earliest form of journal might be considered what is called a commonplace book.  The principles parallel modern pedagogies for journal writing.  Like journals today commonplace books often occupied an important role as Robert J. Connors informs us:

The classical educational tradition had as an essential philosophical quality the concept of synthesis—of looking 

to the world, gathering what is good there, and using it according to a slowly developing wisdom.  For this 

purpose there was no better practice than the keeping of a commonplace book.  By the creation and use of commonplace books, the student was expected to have access to the copia of material that made up the world 

of an educated man (p. 299).

The commonplace books he speaks of were part of a lifelong learning process that is referred to as Paideia.  The commonplace book is an approach to becoming a well-rounded, informed person, aware of historical, social and political ideas via reading and writing, and even first hand experience.

     More specific takes on journal are revealed in its etymology.  One of the first uses of journal occurs in 1355-56 and was used    to refer to a book used for church services (Dictionary of Etymology).  Interestingly, in this we can surmise some of the             term’s contemporary pedagogical nuances: it has a private nature as well as a public display.  We find that journal derives from Anglo-French in various spellings, such as jurnal, jurnale, and Old French, journal.  The now obsolete adjective form meant, “performed, happening, or recurring every day; daily, diurnal.”  A closely related sense reveals that journal implies “of or      belonging to one day, restricted to the day,” and it could be “a record of events or matters of personal interest kept by any one      for his own use, in which entries are made day by day, or as the events occur” (Oxford English Dictionary), as in “There are some who dayly differ from themselves. Their understanding is even journal, and much more their will and conduct” (Gracian's p. 72).  Around the same time Thomas Babington Macaulay guiltily asserts, “I am getting out of the habit of keeping my journal.”

     According to several early writers we observe that journal implies something more elaborate than diary.  In 1610, for example, Philemon Holland states, “Cæsar hath in his Iournels or Day-books [in ephemeridibus] written [etc.]” (William Camden I. p. 18).  John Dryden in 1670 says, “Good heaven, thy book of fate before me lay, But to tear out the journal of this day” (III. p. i).  In   1565 Thomas Cooper states “a iournall, conteynyng thynges for euery daye.”  J. Hanway boasts, “You see I have begun my   Journal Letters, with the solemnity of a dedication” (III).  For modern pedagogy an important clue thus far exists: a journal should   be written in daily (though not always practiced), and it is strongly implied that journals are a place where we can become aware     of our changing and evolving views and beliefs.   

     Another important sense for journal pedagogy is whether journals should be private or public.  Public sharing and creation of knowledge and beliefs occur in the following entries: “A daily record of events or occurrences kept for private or official use” (OED).   The nuance here for contemporary pedagogy is that we see an early sign that a journal can be a public document, not a highly sensitive diary generally written only for the writer (this also hearkens us to the sense of a church journal).  Extracting the journal from private records, such as its relationship to the diary, we discover that it can be, “a record of public events or of a series of public transactions, noted down as they occur day by day or at successive dates, without historical discussion” (OED).   In 1617 Fynes Moryson reflects “that his Lordship purposed to imploy me in the writing of the History or Journall of Irish affaires” (II. p. 84).  Here the journal is interactive at its start, and it is intended for an even more extended readership.  We also see clear examples of journal writers who intended to share their writing with others.  For example Louisa May Alcott informs us how she will impart her journal to another: “I shall keep a journal-letter, and send it once a week” (II. x. p. 141).  It seems journal interactive has roots in classical antiquity’s commonplace book, and specific etymological sources starting in the fourteenth century. 

     More recently, in the last ten years the meanings have evolved as well.  In educational circles, for example, Marcia Popp employs journals in a writing-across-the-curriculum approach: “learning journals are used to record ideas, information, and individual responses to an integrated theme or topics in mathematics, science, literature, language, writing, or the social sciences” (p. 1).  The approach is the individual on a personal mission, bearing a close resemblance to some of the early characterizations of it discussed above.  Popp goes on to distinguish learning journals from diaries and dialogue journals: the student is the primary audience of the learning journal, relies little on dialogue from the teacher, and focuses on recording ideas in the “content areas” (p. 2).  Learning journals sound uncannily like commonplace books.  Popp argues that learning journals explore “the process of writing about ideas, explaining them, and relating them to other ideas prompts students to explore concepts in more depth and with added comprehensiveness” (4).  Closely related to this view is Susan Wanner’s.  Placing journals within the realm of expressive writing, she feels that journals are the most common forum for this type of writing (p. 125).  

Popp states that some dialogue can take place, to a limited extent by teachers with students: “Teachers periodically      review student journals to assess understanding, identify misconceptions, and gain information that will direct their teaching.  Many teachers write brief notes to students to clarify ideas, coach, remind, arrange conferences, or provide encouragement and support” (p. 6), and we are told that “the reading, response, and sharing activities of learning journals emerge from a contructivist view of     the learner, which assumes that students create meaning from their experience in terms of what they already know, and that they   learn best when they are actively engaged in making sense of their world” (p. 8).  The opportunities and full savor of      constructivism as pedagogically presented are limited here in that social constructivist activity is based on human intercourse and     the meaning making that takes place as a result of these interactions and interrelations.  While more in line with commonplace    books, Popp chooses to encourage limited written interactivity among students.  Again she is in good company: Wanner asserts:    “To be effective at all, student journals must have the privilege of privacy.  I am the only reader of my students’ journals. If writers don’t want me to read particular entries, they simply fold the page over, and I don’t read them” (p. 125).  Both of these    approaches are common enough and clearly have their historical roots.  

                In a discipline so mightily embraced by the computer and by journals it is curious that electronic journals have not had much impact in our discipline and its literature.  From what I could gather from some teachers’ syllawebs, some use a/synchronous chats, Moos or Word as a type of journal.  These are valid and can reveal interesting pedagogical results.  An electronic journal, for our purposes, is perhaps one that students can use on the Internet, interacting from school, home, or wherever they have Internet access.  When we step into electronic journals the shift from private and personal narrative slip into a world full of nooks and crannies where many other writers reside.  The shift from private to public could not be more evident.