Not your grandparents’ technology…

We’re at a phase in history where we still speak of “technology” and the effect “it” is having on us and our culture. And everybody seems to share some vague idea of just what this “technology” is and how to be excited/alarmed/confused/hyperbolic/apathetic/joyous/etc. about it.

And yet, I’m pretty sure the “technology” we talk about today typically no longer includes gramophones, or Xerox machines, or Velcro, or refrigerators, or the telegraph.

So I wonder: in this moment in time, what makes something “technology”? Is “technology” that which elicits strong emotional reactions? Forces us to reflect on novelty and continuity? Amuses us? Helps us to see the contingencies of our current moment? Seduces us with new opportunities? Or something else entirely?

Facebook–a friend?

I’m not a huge fan of birthdays–especially my own. They’re kind of a hassle. But this time around, it was beautifully low-key. And, much to my surprised, I found it was enhanced by my old (usually pretty onerous) friend Facebook. I actually really loved watching wall posts trickle in–first from Turkey and Germany, then from some night-owl friends in the States, then finally from the (small but loyal) masses of admirers I have scattered across the country. It was fun to go about my day, with the occasional little red “notification bubble” popping in my browser or on my iPod to let me know someone was giving some lovin’.

And if anyone wants to counter that Facebook messages are “less meaningful” than a good old fashioned card in the mail, I’d say: maybe, but it doesn’t matter. I know that, when I’m composing a birthday post for someone, I’m at least holding them in my mind for a few seconds out of my busy day, and thinking back to a time when there was less distance between us. And that’s simple, and good, and can reach farther and extend to a broader spectrum of friends and acquaintances than cards can. And I like the idea of people doing the same for me on my birthday. So thanks, Facebook and friends, for a low-key birthday!

State Fair

Took the shuttle over to the St. Paul campus this morning (which, for those who don’t know the campus well, is right next to the State Fair grounds). Along the way, I couldn’t help but think of all the times during my childhood when my parents would refer to a place as being “near the fair grounds”. Someone’s house, maybe, or a business would be “near the fair grounds”. And for me, this was such an obvious impossibility. Nothing could be near the fair grounds. The State Fair was so magical–such a clear anomaly against all the rest of the grown-up world–that there was no way it could even be on this planet, let alone next to a regular, workaday house or business.

But you know what? It turns out there is stuff near the fair grounds.

Google thinks I’m a boy!

Given all the shakeup in the discussion on Internet privacy these days, I decided to take some time to click through Google’s new privacy policies. I logged into my university e-mail account (a university-hosted Google apps setup), opened up the overview of Google’s privacy Policies & Principles, and started clicking around. Imagine my surprise when I discovered…Google thinks I’m a boy! Or better: it’s classified me under the demographics “Age: 25-35″ and “Gender: Male” for advertising purposes. The proof:

Even more shocking, though: Google thinks I like basketball! I am stunned. I have never been to a basketball game in my life. (Well, except for the one time when I was in the high school pep band and was forced to go play cymbals on “The Star Spangled Banner”.) How could Google’s algorithms be so shockingly misinformed? Or is it me? Have I been behaving in a manner recently that would suggest I actually like basketball?

I’m at a loss here. Do I go in now and correct it, only to discover that it has me liking hockey by next week? Or worse–horse racing?! Or do I keep up the ruse and just let it label me whatever the hell it wants to?

Whatever, Google. You don’t know me. Srsly. Back off.

Because I could not stop…

I found out yesterday that my grandma (my mom’s mom) died, and that we’ll be heading down to Iowa this weekend for a funeral. I’ve been through grandparents’ deaths before, but this is my last grandparent to die, which feels more finite somehow. It’s got me thinking about a few things…

• Rarely do I get to see my parents in their role as children. The death of a grandparent is one of those rare occasions. And it feels scary. And it also feels important.
• Rarely in our society do we actively allow ourselves to pause. We hardly ever fight for our right to recenter and create some space. Death, though, seems to be one of those things that we still have a little respect for. Perhaps not as much as in other parts of the globe, but people in my little part of America still do seem to step aside and give death some room. (I always think about bereavement fares on airlines here, for example.) And I’m convinced we’d be a pretty sick society if this weren’t the case. Although I wonder: if we gave death a little more room in our day-to-day lives, would we maybe also be clearing a little more space for life?
• I listened to a podcast recently that got me excited about the power of mourning, and rituals in mourning. Check out Moth Radio Hour 401, Segment 2 . It’s a good story.

Empire of (Dis)Illusion

I just finished up a pretty depressing book, am pretty down on America at the moment, and could use a little positive visioning. I know things are going down the tubes. I know our economy is tanking. I know we’re getting dumber in some ways (although perhaps smarter in others?). I know I probably won’t have any Medicare in my old age. It’s the beginning of February, and it hasn’t dipped below freezing for more than a week running this winter. I get it.

But I’m getting really sick of doomsday prophecies, without some kind of positive counter-image I can grasp onto. Because I think media doom and gloom freaks people out and turns us into deer-in-headlights, just waiting to be mowed over by whatever crushing societal/governmental/economic force is barreling at us. People need positive images that compel us in new directions. (And I’m also starting to suspect that visual images may be more compelling than print-based imagery these days…)

Fortunately, I also happen to have discovered a home remedy for a case of “America Blues”: Norman Rockwell. More specifically, Rockwell’s “Four Freedoms” series. Makes me want a little more for our nation than all the ambient fear and negativity that’s been floating around.

Have a look at the paintings here .

Graduate Review & Improvement Project (GRIP) meeting

I attended a meeting of the Graduate Review and Improvement Project (GRIP) today and wanted to throw up a quick reflection here.  This discussion is still nascent, but I’m posting a quick summary and my reaction to try to get the word out.  If you’re a CEHD (and particularly PsTL) student, I’d love to hear some feedback so I can better represent our views as this discussion progresses.

The context:

The OLPD department in our College has been working on developing a process to evaluate and improve its graduate programs.  They’ve been trying different strategies–surveys, regular meetings for grad students, “town hall” meetings with a broader community, etc.  From what I gathered, the goal is to put evaluation and program improvement closer to the departments, students, and faculty whom it affects, rather than let it get stuck at a higher institutional level that can be less accessible and more nebulous for students and faculty.  Now, they’re calling together representatives from the various departments so they can share what they’ve been doing and invite a College-wide discussion on how we can work on improving our graduate programs.  We met today–a mix of faculty and students from each department across the College–to discuss ways to evaluate and improve our graduate programs.

Concerns/questions that came up:

• There was a lot of concern (expressed by both faculty and students) about the power differential that exists between students and faculty.  A key question:  How do we make sure that we’re getting “the real picture” in student feedback, and not just creating avenues where students may feel constrained or intimidated from speaking their mind?
• There was a lot of discussion about a set of metrics that has been created at the University level to try to flesh out what it means to be a “quality” Ph.D. program.  These metrics may be used in some form to guide funding decisions for programs, although the details of this process are still unclear to me.  You can have a look at the metrics here.  If you want some context, I believe these metrics were created by the Enrollment Management Subcommittee at the Provost’s office, and speak to point #4 on page 10 of this document.  In our discussion today, there was some concern about how to respond to and incorporate these metrics in our own College improvement processes.
• The topic of advising came up, and the central role that advising plays in the graduate student experience.  OLPD has been working on a list of expectations for graduate advisors, and the Institute of Child Development (?) has established the expectation that advisors meet with their advisees at least once a month.  The key question:  How do we establish norms and expectations for advisors so that faculty and students know what to expect and what to demand?  How do we create a culture that is responsive to students and what they need to succeed?
• Faculty expressed concern about the kinds of demands they are forced to juggle and trade-offs they are forced to make (ex: spending more time on advising vs. working on their own research).  Having a realistic understanding of the resources it takes to be a good advisor, researcher, etc. seems crucial to improving both student and faculty experience.
• The COGS Survey came up as a potential source of good information on graduate students’ experiences.  We also discussed creating a repository for survey tools, policy documents, etc. that CEHD departments can draw from when evaluating their graduate programs.

My reaction:

I, like most in the meeting, was concerned about some of the metrics the Enrollment Management Subcommittee has developed.  When defining a “quality Ph.D. program”, I would like to see metrics that take faculty members’ teaching/advising efforts into account.  And, at a land grant institution, I would also like to see metrics that value service to the Minnesota community.  I worry about metrics that are overly quantitative, such as number of grants, publications, citations, time to degree, rankings, etc.  I feel that these kinds of numbers obscure contributions that are powerful but not easily quantifiable.  They also set up a kind of one-size-fits-all “game” that may make us misallocate resources in ways that are not necessarily efficient, or beneficial to students and academic innovation.  I also believe that these numbers can be sloppy to collect (even as they purport to be “clean” and “unbiased”).  I would like to find out more about if/how these metrics are being used to allocate funding across the University.

I also have a suspicion that a key lurking variable behind any graduate program’s success is the quality of advising (which I believe, at the grad level, is essentially coterminous with “teaching” and “mentoring”).  It is that exciting and powerful “meeting of the minds” that goes on inside and outside of the classroom.  Advising has primacy–it is where the whole hoopla of grants, publications, citations, and conference proposals is born.  Graduate students don’t need course content as much as they need a sound support structure and sound relationships with mentors and peers.  And faculty mentors need the time and resources to offer this to graduate students.  The bad news: this defies–or at least problematizes–”the bottom line”.  You can’t cut corners on this.  And if you do, quality will suffer.  If we can articulate principles of good advising, give faculty the resources to focus time and energy on advising, and empower students to expect and demand quality advising relationships, that’s a huge step towards graduate program improvement, in my mind.

In thinking about this, we would also be wise to expand our scope to nourish not just faculty-to-student advising, but student-to-student mentoring and community.  We should also remember that promising a solid support community–and then delivering on these promises–also sells well with prospective grad students.  So, the bottom line is: pulling advising and community onto center stage can simultaneously advance our success in other metrics (publications, grants, citations, time to degree, etc.).  Let’s figure out where the horse is here, and let it pull the cart.

But mine is just one voice, so…

My questions:

• What am I missing?  Any graduate students out there want to weigh in on this?
• Is advising actually as central as I think it is to quality graduate education?  Or is there something else to focus on?
• How do we feel about online/distance education programs?  What makes a “quality” distance education grad program?

Feel free to comment below, or shoot me an e-mail at linkx109@umn.edu .

First Amendment

As I was riding the bus yesterday morning, I started flipping through an article on how we need to “take back the media” to support a more robust “communicative democracy”. The details aren’t important, other than to say that the author used very pointed language and a very unapologetic critique of the current corporate media structure to support his claims.

In true American fashion, I prudishly pursed my lips and found myself thinking: “Well, that’s all well and good, but aren’t we getting just a little too ornery here?” I’d even say I nearly heard the words “dirty socialist” running through my subconscious. (And for the record, I in no way believe that socialists are dirty.)

And then I checked myself. And I realized: if I had been reading this article in German, in a German publication, I wouldn’t have resisted at all. In fact, I likely would have been nodding along in agreement, sharing it with a few friends, and discussing it over tea.

So what’s the difference?

It honestly feels like George Orwell’s ghost rose up from the grave to come slap me in the face. This is one of the first times where I’ve felt the sheer normalizing force of “socially acceptable language” actively steering and censoring my thoughts. But the scariest feeling: it’s probably not the first it’s happened.

Yes, America, we have reached the point where saying things courageously and unequivocally–if these things fall outside the increasingly narrow realm of “expected discourse”–will get you censored, dismissed, and ignored. And not just in the abstract macro sense, but in the very real micro sense of me, sitting on a bus, warily pursing my lips and steadying myself against the rocking boat.

And so I question: Where is the First Amendment these days? And how do I fight for it, if the struggle is within?

Some Thanksgiving food for thought.

7 Things You Should Know About…Technology Integration in Education

I had a rather serendipitous “Web 2.0″ moment the other day when I stumbled across this blog post by Scott McLeod. He’s engaged in some great webinar discussions with Iowa school board members who are exploring ways to integrate technology into the K-12 environment.  Scott was also generous enough to open the floor to a broader audience of educators and tech enthusiasts.  So tonight, I found myself sitting as a guest facilitator for their most recent webinar discussion. I’ll admit to feeling a little “out of my element”, because the K-12 technology integration context is in many ways quite distinct from what I see in higher education. Still, I was excited to listen for the continuities and learn about some of the “big questions” floating around K-12.

I’m guessing we all probably left the webinar with more questions than answers, but I’m glad to be able to connect with such a dedicated group of fellow tech ponderers. (And yes, I’m proud to admit that the experience was brought to us by technology!)  The discussion has inspired me to formulate my thoughts on how technology can and should fit within education. This is intended as a first among many (I hope!) drafts as I continue learning and exploring.  Critiques and comments are always welcome!  So, in the vein of EDUCAUSE’s “7 Things You Should Know about…”, here it goes:

7 Things You Should Know About…Technology Integration in Education:

1) Technology is a support to, not a substitute for, pedagogy.
The corollary: Technology discussions should be embedded in curricular discussions, and not the other way around. Technologies are servants to good learning practices. The advent of certain technologies can inspire new ideas and conversations about what “good learning” is, but the technology itself is not the focal point–it is the learning possibilities at play.

2) We often seem to focus on the “what” questions first: What should we invest in? What is everyone else using? We need to start asking the “how” questions as the same time–or earlier. How can we make sure we support teachers in exploring technology tools? How can we assess and support their ongoing needs and aspirations for technology?
I don’t have exact percentages here, but I’m going throw out a ballpark estimate and say that infrastructure (the What? question) is 10% of the game, while ongoing support and time for professional development (the How? question) is 90% or higher. And the biggest ingredient in the recipe for professional development?: Time, time, and more time. And then a little more time.

3) Watch your language! The word “technology” is often used monolithically and wielded in ways that are wrapped up in deeper power discourses that merely serve to intimidate. We need to break apart this monolith to start more useful discussions.
We can’t speak of “throwing technology” at a problem–primarily because that usually means we have no nuanced understanding of what this “technology” of which we speak actually is. We can’t even extol the virtues of “technology” or emphasize the importance of “technology” without specifying first what we mean by “technology”. Instead, we do better to speak of exploring technologies (note the plural)–or even better, shift the discussion from the tool to the task. Speak of new ways of connecting with people, encouraging collaboration, facilitating administrative tasks, gathering and evaluating information, stimulating discussion, bridging skill development from the classroom to the outside world–and then speak of the exciting ways that technologies can play a part in these.
Similarly, in speaking of technologies, I think specific language is always preferable to blanket language. Blanket language can be expensive–indeed, it is typically what leads up to large-scale investments.  But specific language is more effective. Specific language will start with deeply listening to teachers and their aspirations for the classroom.

4) It doesn’t make a lot of sense to fix a toilet with a computer. So don’t try.
Not all technologies will work for all people in all ways. While we owe it to students to help them grow into their lives as engaged citizens, productive workers, and critical thinkers–and while technologies will play an important role in this–there are many ways of going about this.  Don’t expect that one tech tool should work the same way in every classroom.  Again, I think a shift from the tool to the task is helpful here.  This might be something along the lines of one teacher mentioning to another: “Hey! I discovered this great way of helping my students peer-edit each others’ work”.  If that “way” is Google Docs–and it is, indeed, a good way–then that’s exciting!  If that “way” is passing around red pens and paper, then that’s great, too!

5) The “last inch” makes all the difference.
Instructors can be as pumped about technology as they can possibly be, but if they don’t have a sense that someone is there to back them up in the last few steps–when glitches pop up or last-minute flukes can arise–then they (very rationally, I might add) may decide it’s not worth their time. What business executive is willing to invest hours into preparing a Power Point without a guarantee that she’s got someone there to help troubleshoot if her system crashes? Teachers are no different. Time with students is precious, and technology needs to work well and have someone to help with “just in time” support.  Otherwise, we risk wasting teachers’ and students’ time.
Also, the old adage “once burned, twice shy” is only magnified with technology. Make it more like: “once burned, and someone had better do a damn good job of convincing me this thing is going to work next time around, or I’m going to get out my hammer and smash the the thing to smithereens.” (Note: I think your average teacher is actually way more flexible than that, but it’s not an uncommon or unreasonable reaction for anybody to have.)

6) Teaching and learning are sacred practices. Technology can enhance that or detract from that. Engaging with technology is ultimately a subjective, personal experience for teachers and students, and it is something we must respect.
We need to respect that teachers are the ones who have the best understanding of classroom specifics. The best, most nuanced discussions on technologies’ potential to promote learning will start and end with them. Technologies will fit into various places of the learning equation, but the second it becomes forced or stops feeling genuine to teachers’ and students’ classroom dynamic, it will become alienating. Bottom-up excitement is a million times more transformative than top-down pressure. Give some tools, give lots of hands-on supports and time, give avenues for transformative discussions between teachers (and even engage students in these discussions!), and let the magic unfold. Incorporating technologies into teaching can be rewarding, but also harder for teachers, so we need to respect the enormous demands on time and expertise that this involves, and compensate teachers accordingly.

7) Play, play, and more play! (Less theory, more “hands on”.)
Ask any tech geek how they learned their trade, and I’m willing to bet they’ll say they “played around with it, Googled a few things, then played around with it some more”. (For the record: I am actually willing to bet serious money on this.)
Teachers and students exploring technologies are no different. Teachers need time to be in playful community with each other, trying out new tools in a low-stakes environment before they’ll want to try it in the classroom. This is a good instinct–it makes them good pedagogues, because it means they want to co-create and explore with colleagues to make sure that they’re as effective as they can be when they get in a classroom with students. Give teachers the tools, give them space and time and wide creative berth, and let them use each other as “guinea pigs” to explore new ideas.
From the student end, they’ll also need some scaffolded “play time” with a new tool before they’re ready to produce their best work (i.e. work that can fairly be graded or assessed).

And one future-oriented addendum:  We owe it to students to help them explore technologies that will enhance their engagement, productivity, creativity, and critical judgement. These are life skills, and job skills.
This does now, however, imply that we owe it to students to “teach them Word, Excel, and Power Point” and send them on their way. We’re at the point where we need to think more creatively, platform-independently, and sustainably. Word today may be gone tomorrow. We can start with specific tools to help students navigate basic skills, but eventually we need to get around to teaching them how to build their own technology landscapes with the tools that excite and inspire them.  That’s a skill, for example, that comes into play in a big way during the undergraduate years.  So I guess I’ve just spelled out my own challenge for myself…

Sorry for getting so verbose on this one.  Thanks again to everyone in the webinar for such great food for thought!

Academic Hierarchy

I headed to my old middle school the other day to chat with a class about life after middle school.  (Which subsequently led to the happy realization that my life has only been getting better since middle school.)  I also asked them to help me test the “Twitter Challenge” project I’m working on for my M.A. capstone.  The premise is simple: give them a kind of Twitter scavenger hunt comprised of mini “challenges” that illustrate different principles of media literacy.  The result: after about an hour of snooping around Twitter and several shocking discoveries, in which Barbie emerged as a “global news source”, and Justin Bieber was accepted as having a “chique” profile, I learned that middle schoolers approach Twitter way differently than I do.  In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have been so surprised here.  And they’re not necessarily wrong about most of it.  I’m still contemplating Barbie’s global reach…

Going back also reminded me just how much energy and chaos teachers get to juggle in middle school classrooms.  In light of this rediscovery, I’d like to propose a revision of the academic hierarchy:

Top tier:  Middle school teachers
Second tier:  Pre-school/Elementary teachers/High school teachers
Third tier:  College professors

Now, I know there are people who work hard across the whole spectrum, and I don’t intend to knock professors (whom I work with every day and respect dearly).  In fact, I’m not trying to comment on college professors at all.  Rather, I’m concerned about the growing, ambient disdain for K-12 teachers that we’re seeing in politics and the media that is both insulting and grossly unjust.  We are shockingly dismissive of teachers’ and students’ classroom work–work that is profoundly shaping the direction our society will take in the future.  Work that contributes “deep value” to society that is more stable than most of our financial institutions and all the value shuffling that goes on there.  Only rarely and inconsistently do we stand up to this malicious maligning of teachers.  So perhaps an inversion of the accepted hierarchies of respect–or, even better, just more respect all around–would make sure credit goes where credit is due.

*end soapbox*