Google, Academia, and the Reactionary Birthday Conspiracy

I want to make it clear that I love birthdays.  It’s a time of good food and good company, and nothing beats that.  But it’s also very personal.  And, while I love my friends’, my family’s, and my own birthdays, I don’t like constantly being asked by academia and the internet to celebrate that of those I don’t know.

In 2009, I came across a CFP celebrating Charles Darwin’s 200th birthday that encouraged interdisciplinary approaches from all fields of inquiry.  For a second, I thought, huh, that’d be an interesting paper to write.  I geeked out at the prospect of connecting Darwinian evolution, natural selection, or survival of the fittest with my own field of rhetoric/composition.  Then I started to question what the big deal was with his 200th birthday, became more and more irate, and that sensitivity has stuck with me ever since.  The annoyance came in bits, pieces, waves that grew bigger and bigger, like so: why is birth so important… why not people’s works and achievements… this emphasis on figure over matter… same uneasiness as literary canon… Christian sainthood… canonization of scholars’ names, physical appearance, physical being instead of thought… individual ownership over collective meaning-making… intellectual property… copyright… trademark… explaining to scared and confused international students censured for “plagiarism” of others’ ideas that attribution of the capitalist kind is valued over their dissemination and distribution… it all goes together… it’s a goddamn conspiracy…

This isn’t something new, of course, as we’ve done so with other milestone birthdays of dead popular figures– Continue reading

Phaedrus Redux

The Chronicle of Higher Ed has published a special report on “Faculty Views of Online Learning” that contains various statistics.

One set called “Amount of Effort Required to Teach or Develop an Online Course” reveals that the vast majority of faculty consider developing online courses takes “a lot more” effort, while attitudes of the effort towards the actual teaching of online courses are pretty evenly spread throughout “about the same,” “somewhat more,” and “a lot more.”  I’m hesitant to dismiss online courses as simply being more difficult to develop without the variable of technological setbacks that current pedagogy has not yet fully attended to.  On a side note, it’s nice to infer that teachers are spending more time on the development of their online course rather than the teaching of the resulting class itself (process over product?).

Another set of statistics called “How Faculty Members Rate Online Courses vs. Traditional, Face-to-Face Interaction” shows that, out of those who have taught online courses, about half consider the online course to be “inferior,” about a third “the same,” and a small minority “superior.”  Again, I would attribute this to technological setbacks–if not, outright anxieties–at the faculty end.

In my graduate “Teaching Writing in a Digital Age” class, we (both faculty and graduate students) fumbled around with using digital technologies.  As I’m teaching a new media unit in my FYC class, I find that I’m having to ask my students how to do certain things, while I offer them what I know of academic and rhetorical moves.  It’s almost a picture-perfect Freirean learning community of the student-teacher and teacher-students.  So, Chronicle, when do we get to see statistics of “Student Views of Online Learning”?

Revisiting Demographics

Today’s Chronicle article, “Online Learning May Slightly Hurt Student Performance” by Sophia Li presents a study asserting that online components of learning may be less effective for Hispanics, underachieving students, and males.

The first two I’m not really surprised about, but the gender gap debunks the myth that female students have some kind of inherent intellectual-emotional need for direct communication in order to learn effectively.  But what’s curious is that both study and article neglect class.  Students who grow up in a household that can afford better technology and be better connected would more likely perform better no matter what demographic variability.  It’s not merely an influencing factor, but an overriding one.

SF Events

Hey, gang.  A couple of events coming up related to TWinaDA:

  • Jason Spingarn-Koff’s documentary, Life 2.0, about Second Life and identity has an encore tonight (Wed) at the Roxie in SF, 7:30pm.
  • Jaron Lanier, who popularised the term “virtual reality,” is giving a lecture, “What is a Person?,” about the web and education/community on  Thu, Jun 17, at the Contemporary Jewish Museum, 7pm.

99-Year-Old Woman Uses iPad

99-Year-Old Woman Uses iPad

In other news:

  • Asian Drives to Destination without Mishap
  • Black Teen Graduates High School
  • Woman Changes Light Bulb and Car Tires

To be clear, I don’t mean to belittle people’s disadvantages and social hardships–just commenting on how the rhetorical intent or move to liberate, because of the spectacle, can actually become socially counterproductive.  This whole thing does get me thinking about the assumptions we have about technology/new media and demographics–kind of in the same patronising vein as talk… ing… ve… ry… slow… ly… for… E… S… L… stu… dents… (because we all know that they have to watch Hollywood movies in slow motion to understand the dialogue).

The obvious pedagogical lesson here might be: Thinking older students to be technologically illiterate could be a big oops.  But, more recently, I worked with a younger student on writing up sections of his e-folio for a class, moved on at my own pace, using new media jargon because I thought not only were we probably on the same wavelength, but he would probably teach me a thing or two, so I was just trying to “speak his language.”  Wrong.  And it pains me to think that I could have been making him feel stupid for not keeping up or understanding me.  And this is on top of what messages he might already be exposed to, through peers and mass media, that normalise a certain standard of new media literacy, which are definitely a huge pressure.  I apologised, offered him a Hello Panda chocolate snack, and the session moved on smoothly.  So, conversely, assuming our fresh-out-of-high-school students to all be multimodal multitaskers might also prove detrimental.  To reaffirm Nate’s reminder last Tuesday, the digital divide is alive and well.

Video Games, Textuality, and Community: This Post is Not Self-Indulgent at All

In the spirit of Henry Jenkins’ collective intelligence, I’m posting cumulative thoughts about video games and pedagogy based on discussions I’ve had in the past year with several people (including Kory, Nathan, and others).  Their ideas, along with my own, have become so wiki-fied in my head that I find myself not being able to formally attribute them to specific entities.  Huzzah.

James Paul Gee and Ian Bogost seem to be so hopeful in terms of using video games as effective learning tools that I find myself wanting to step back to tend to the reservations expressed by crusaders of conventional pedagogy.  Gee (the person, not the exclamation), in his introduction, does touch upon what he acknowledges as tired debates over sex and violence in video games (10-11).  To his own arguments, I would add that, at certain historical moments, other “new” media such as the novel (17th-18th centuries), film Continue reading

TWinaDA Means “I Love You” Even If I Don’t Understand You

In “Introducing Identity,” David Buckingham identifies an argument that supports the view of today’s new media technology as “a force of liberation for young people–a means for them to reach past the constraining influence of their elders, and to create new, autonomous forms of communication and community” (13).  But I’m not sure how “autonomous” the younger digital generation can really be.  They are definitely empowered to break away from traditional opressors–parents, like the argument suggests, and perhaps also institutional (at least in its traditional forms).

Still, are they (or any of us) really free from controlling forces in digital media?  One of Buckingham’s concerns points to “the undemocratic tendencies of online ‘communities’” (14).  In fact, if we look at one such online community like Facebook, it’s quite apparent that there is a lot of follow-the-leader activities going on.  One day about a month ago, women (and girls) on Facebook started putting up colours and patterns on their statuses.  Some men even joined in, many without knowing what exactly they were participating in–their favourite colours?, the colour of their current mood?, or what?  And when many asked those who participated, the resulting elitism and reluctance to reveal was met either with participants’ own lack of understanding, or a cliquish desire to keep that knowledge from more people.  Only after a whole day, or even longer, did many find out that it turned out to be the colour of the bra you are wearing at the time in support of breast cancer awareness.  Nevermind the irony esoteric knowledge/practices against the purpose of awareness, what disturbs me more is the antisocial, anti-democratic behaviours that arose from the event.  And this is but one example on Facebook, while many others include the so-called “doppelganger” profile picture week, viral gaming like Julianne has noted, etc.  And these behaviours are certainly not limited to Facebook.  Go to any site that has social interaction–MySpace, Twitter, even markets like Amazon and eBay–and they’re all there.

Continue reading

Agony in the Digital Garden

Our first class session revealed much in terms of the vast range of technological literacy(s) among us that may represent the technological literacy of society at large.  But our trepidations with using computers—nowadays more so with various software/programs/applications than actual hardware—are rather difficult to pin down.  In any historical trajectory, the first place we tend to go to is to look at how Plato, in his Socratic dialogue Phaedrus, is anxious of the new technology of writing, and what it does to the originary speech.  As Walter Ong asserts in citing himself, “Plato’s objections against writing are essentially the very same objections commonly urged today against computers by those who object to them” (“Writing is a Technology” 27).  Because he’s a preeminent scholar of orality, I’m inclined to believe Ong’s analysis—after all, he had spent his whole academic career researching the subject.  However, because he is the same scholar who has made backhanded comments on Native American oral communication in saying that:

There is hardly an oral culture or a predominantly oral culture left in the world today that is not somehow aware of the vast complex powers forever inaccessible without literacy.  This awareness is agony for persons rooted in primary orality, who want literacy passionately but who also know very well that moving into the exciting world of literacy means leaving behind much that is exciting and deeply loved in the earlier oral world.  We have to die to continue living” (Orality and Literacy 15),

I’m not sure that I trust his analysis completely.  Besides the absolutism that Condescends-Other-Cultures prescribes for orality and textuality, his theory here is presumptive in the melodramatic “agony” of oral folk of which he is not a part, not to mention fatalistic in their assimilation due to inability to survive otherwise.  Another reason Ong’s theories are problematic is that they tend to overlook what happens in between Plato’s 4th century B.C.E. and today.

On the other hand, a more grounded look into the various nuances of textuality’s evolutions can be found in the work of Dennis Barron, who says that “the computer is simply the latest step in a long line of writing technologies” (“Literacy and Access” 118).  Barron takes us through an evolution of tools from the pencil to the telephone to the computer, and even provides a study of their original utilities, which apparently were not meant to be as writing utensils.  Just like previous technologies, he suggests, the computer was originally intended for more mathematical computations, and not necessarily invented to be conducive of reading/writing/literacy.

The biggest difference seems to be that using computers for literacy activities is more multimodal in terms of the number of skills that we have to use.  Reading a book, writing with a pencil, or speaking on the telephone are relatively more simple tasks and modalities compared to learning how to navigate course management systems such as Moodle or blogging on WordPress.  To jump on Barron’s idea, this is “the flexibility of digitised text” (117).  If the pencil and telephone are modern inventions, the computer and interwebs are postmodern inventions.  The difficulty we have with teaching writing in a digital age, then, is that we’re not just learning how to hold a new tool with our fingers to write cursive or speak clearly into the correct end of the tool, but we are learning to be aware of available navigation from link to link in doing our research, or the many Microsoft Word icons and features that do various tasks, and must constantly, because of their rapid creation, not only learn our way around new software and digital applications, but also (re)learn updated versions of existing ones dot dot dot.

N.B.  Our article by Barron was published in 1999.  Here is an interview with Barron on his latest book, A Better Pencil (2009), which may or may not update some of his thoughts.

Position Statements, or Why We’re Full of It

The 2004 CCCC executive committee’s “Position Statement on Teaching, Learning, and Assessing Writing in Digital Environments” was perhaps a necessary one to publish because of the growing immersion of literacy practices involved within these digital environments. As we rhetoric-compositionists are wont to do, I’ll begin with the good I think it provides. In the San Francisco Bay Area, at the time, I remember that an online composition class or two were popping up on the schedules of local community colleges. This was a good thing because one of the philosophies that the statement advocates is for digital literacy technologies to “provide for the needs of students who are place-bound and time-bound.” Fantastic. For the full-time workers who need work no less in order to pay all the bills, or the parents who choose to stay at home to tend to their children, taking an English class towards a degree became more possible. Access is key to education, and the statement’s confirmation of such, in terms of how technology helps, is perhaps its most important message.

However, the very fact that some kind of “committee,” made of a group of eight or so scholars representing an entire education system, gets together to collectively-but-exclusively compose and publish an official statement, is an authoritarian move that does not play well with Web 2.0 and where digital environments are headed. This kind of institutional stranglehold may work with traditional concerns, such as grammar, even form and style. My cynicism isn’t directed at the competence of gatherings of great scholarly thinkers such as this bunch. A committee like this has the power to allay any major concerns of literacy issues, direct where thought and scholarship are headed, or even lead. Rather, I’m doubtful of how much control we as educators have over this new literacy. The statement was published in 2004. Since then, many changes have happened, such as the growing prevalence of Facebook and Twitter in communication and social networking, or iTunes for both entertainment and even as educational forum. Yet some things, such as Napster and Geocities, simply disappear.

What I’m getting at is that official position statements like the one made by a CCCC committee are never completely neutral. This particular one, for all the liberatory pedagogical good that it is proud in advocating, nevertheless tries to retain power by being a monolithic representation. In this regard, it fails to see that the Web 2.0 and social networking have a life of their own that, if nothing else, grows, develops, changes based on the whims of “the people.”