Monthly Archive for March, 2010

Back to the Future

In 1968, Douglas Engelbart presented a 90 minute demo at the Fall Joint Computer Conference (FJCC) in San Francisco.  He and his research team from the Augmentation Research Center at the Stanford Research Institute had been developing an online system (called NLS for oN Line System) since 1962, and at the FJCC they debuted the first computer mouse and demonstrated hypertext, file linking and tele-conferencing to an audience of one thousand.  Engelbart was concerned with collective intelligence and networked knowledge; only these paradigms of shared thinking, he proposed, could effectively meet the urgency and fast-changing nature of contemporary problems.

Engelbart is oft-associated with firsts and technological history; in the photograph below, his 1966 workstation is complete with keyboard, monitor, and square black mouse on the far right.

But at the same time, many conversations about the future of technology and networked life invoke Engelbart’s theoretical positions and proposed practices as guiding principles and visions not-yet-achieved.  He is as much a part of the discourses of origins as he is with those of the future. I thought of Engelbart recently while reading about poet and essayist Lewis Hyde’s new project on intellectual property and the cultural commons.  Hyde argues that we have not yet spoken back to the market-driven gluttony of copyright law by articulating precisely where and how a limit should be set between public and private.

So it was somehow no surprise to learn that the mouse-maker himself awarded the first Collective Intelligence Recognition Award for an organization to Creative Commons, the non-profit dedicated to promoting sharing within the limits of copyright law, at the 2008 Program for the Future conference.  It was a celebration of the 40th anniversary of the famous 1968 demo — and a simultaneous anointment of Engelbart as oracle of what’s to come.

But I still only have two eyes…

The Onion, 2009

Nielsen Media Research, the group that lets us know exactly how many people tune in to the Super Bowl each year, recently reported a drastic upswing in the amount of Americans who surf the web while they watch television.  Just in the last two years, since 2008, there has been a 35 percent increase in simultaneous TV-watching and Internet use.  Whether you are one of these people or not, you have to admit that the amount of time you spend staring at a glowing rectangle has increased exponentially in recent years.  Computer monitors, TV screens, and cellphones are ubiquitous in American life, so much a part of our everyday experience that the phenomenon is even parodied in The Onion:

“We discovered in almost all cases that Americans find it enjoyable and rewarding to put their faces in front of glowing rectangles for hours on end,” said Howard West, a prominent sociologist on the Stanford team. “Furthermore, when citizens are not staring slack-jawed at these mesmerizing shapes, many appear to become lost, confused, and unsure of what they should be doing to occupy themselves.”

Added West, “Some even become irritated and angry when these rectangles are not around.”

More and more, when I am standing in front of a group of undergraduate students, I feel like I am in direct competition with the lure of the rectangle.  Whether they are anxious to check that text message they feel buzzing in their pocket, or opening a laptop to ostensibly “take notes,” it is clear that many students would much rather be staring at their rectangle of choice than the human instructor (and other students) before them.

I am not a Luddite.  In fact, I’m a huge believer in the engagement of technology in the classroom.  For better or worse, technology has become an integral prosthesis for human communication, and learning to navigate in the digital world is a fundamental component of higher education.  But the younger our students get, the more likely they are to arrive in our classrooms with a lifetime of digital experience; they will have lived their entire lives in a world where multiple, simultaneous rectangle-viewing is commonplace.

How does this impact the classroom experience?  How can we preserve what is valuable about the “old-fashioned” college lecture as technological communication continues to evolve?  Are there ways to integrate the traditional academic experience with the brave new world of omnipresent glowing rectangles?

Exploring this admittedly philosophical issue has practical purposes as well.  A recent rash of viral videos depict angry college professors confiscating and destroying various pieces of student technology.  The videos (two of which are posted below) show what can happen when such communication issues remain unaddressed.  Try viewing them while you are simultaneously watching TV, and feel the future…

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pm1CJPIqUpI[/youtube]

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5w-7IpI0fI[/youtube]



Agents of the Information Age? Perhaps Not.

Last month, Lauren blogged about Helene Hegemann, a 17-year old author from Germany whose novel Axolotl Roadkill has become a best-seller and a finalist for a major prize in fiction—despite the fact that entire passages of the book were lifted from a novel by another author.  After reading Lauren’s post, I decided to assign the New York Times article on Hegemann to the students in my Writing II course here at Baruch.  We read the article last week, and while discussing it in class, I was quite surprised by a lot of what my students had to say; their comments really got me thinking about how they view both the web and the act of writing.

For one thing, though I tend to (mostly) agree with them, I was shocked to find that all 26 of my students thought this was a case of shameless and unacceptable plagiarism—not a single one of them bought the idea of Hegemann as “the representative of a different generation, one that freely mixes and matches from the whirring flood of information across new and old media, to create something new.”  Furthermore, despite being members of this generation themselves, many of the students said, to my surprise, that they find that “whirring flood of information” intimidating at times, particularly when it comes to the web.  As one student spoke about how she’s leery of using online sources for academic assignments both because they might not be as “good” as print sources and because she doesn’t want to be accused of plagiarism, I noticed a number of other students nodding in agreement.  Yet, though students certainly need to use more caution and discretion with online sources than with print ones, they shouldn’t be afraid to use the web for academic assignments.  As teachers, it’s our job to help them learn how to use the web cautiously and properly (for what I think is a particularly useful resource for students regarding this, see UC Berkeley’s Guide to Evaluating Web Pages), but perhaps we also need to place more emphasis on teaching students how to harness the web’s endless possibilities.  Personally, I’ve always assumed that because my students are the so-called representatives of the “information age” that this automatically means they make constant use of the web, not just for socializing, but also for academic purposes.  Our conversation in class forced me to re-think this assumption, and has also left me wondering how many of my students really understand how to make the most of what the web has to offer them as students (and beyond the worlds of Facebook, twitter, and youtube).

I was also surprised to find that my students might not have come down as hard on Hegemann had she been a musician rather than a writer.   We discussed in class how mixing and sampling are prominent in the music industry today, with artists like Girl Talk making enormously successful careers this way:

Yet, while most of the students didn’t think that what Girl Talk does is either “wrong” or unoriginal, they all argued that Hegemann’s version of mixing is unacceptable and that the praise her work has received is undeserved.  For some reason, it seemed to them that there is something almost holy about the written word on the page—that to lift that and put it into your own work—even if you give credit where credit is due (which Hegemann didn’t)—is somehow both more unethical and less original than to, say, re-use an old MJ song in a new remix.  In general, they were willing to allow authors far less room for “artistic play” than they were willing to allow musicians and other artists (photographers, filmmakers, etc), which I found curious, fascinating, and perhaps a little troubling.  As we begin the seventh annual Ethics Week at Baruch today, I can’t help but wonder if academia’s constant emphasis on stamping out plagiarism hasn’t made some students a little fearful of the writing process—or, at the very least, caused them to view writing as more “restrictive” and less creative than other forms of art.

All about My Mother….

This is reference to one of my favorite movies directed by one of my favorite directors, Pedro Almodovar, called All about My Mother (Todo sobre mi madre, 1999). It is a hilarious comedy, and more than that, as Almodovar’s movies frequently are.

I am hijacking the title here because I am thinking a lot about my own Mother these days. (Of course this post will be my most personal ever.) So, my Mother is coming to town this summer. First time in New York City, first time in the US, and this is a big thing, really big. (Explains why I had little sleep during this past weekend, tracking my Mother, via my cell, on her way “down” to Bucharest for her visa interview, and back “home,” in the northern areas of the country. In the absence of Luke’s usual, gentle nudge, I forgot about my Cacophony rotation as well, mea culpa.)

My Mother does not speak English. She is a most successful professor of Hungarian in Romania, piling up awards of teaching excellence and shuffling her “kids” around the country from one competition to another, and they usually win, if not the first prize, than one of the remaining accolades. Her lifeline is her language and her strong ethnic identity. And now that I have started to live in the expectation of her coming, I can also understand the eternal immigrant conundrum: having parents who become a burden because they do not speak the host language.

Yet, my Mother is a charmer, and much of her charm comes from her talk, though I think she is quite a beauty as well. (Arabic has a concept of seduction through words: “samar” means literally “talking late into the night” while investing into the power of words in order to seduce the beloved. Reminder that our “Western” obsession with the body underestimates language and the communication of thoughts.) In an English-speaking environment, my Mother will lose her most important tool: her ability to reach out to people and to seduce her listeners into an appreciation of her intellect. I, on the other hand, will get the chance to be there for her with my English. Translating their mothers, daughters reach a home.

Google’s Book Scanning Project

During my usual channel-surfing the other day, I caught an interesting debate on Google’s book scanning project. Robert Darnton (cultural historian at Harvard University), David C. Drummond (Senior Vice President of Corporate Development and Chief Legal Officer at Google) and author James Gleick were the participants in the discussion, each respectively representing the rights and interests of users/readers, Google, and authors/publishers.

In 2005, Google launched its ambitious project to digitize books. It has already scanned 12 million different titles so far. There were lawsuits brought by the Authors Guild against Google regarding a violation of copyright laws because a majority of these books (about 8 million) were out-of-print but still copyright protected. Under the new settlement reached in 2008, authors have control over how and when the material is displayed and receive a share of market revenue. The below video clip features Robert Darnton who criticizes this move as excluding the interests of readers, libraries, and the public good from the process.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18V0OAsLB9s[/youtube]

I am one of those old-fashioned people who prefer reading in print instead of on screen. But I can’t help but admit that electronic books might be our future destination, particularly considering the younger generations who were born digital. What bothers me the most is not whether or not we should trust the good will of Google, which is, after all, a profit-making private corporation. What is scarier is, as Darnton argues, we as users are not just ignored by one legal settlement and commercial deal between the Authors Guild and Google but excluded from any knowledge of what is happening behind the scene.

Flowery Writing

I had big writing plans for the weekend, including my Cacophony post. After spending the whole Sunday drafting a conference abstract and having no topic in mind for my blog post, I ventured out into the rain. Around 11 pm I found myself buying flowers at a local grocery store. I always confuse florists when I randomly pick up individual stems rather than completed bouquets. And then I usually say no to the easy filler of Baby’s breath. No such fluffy nonsense in my Ikebana!

Photo credit Ikebana Arts Studio

Ikebana is a form of Japanese floral art whose major premises are minimalism, symmetry, and organic composition. The stems must be positioned at designated angles, and they must be visible, not hidden in a vase. For this purpose, Ikebana arrangements are made in a kenzan, a flower holder consisting of many closely positioned spikes upon and between which the stems and twigs are placed. If kenzan is not a part of a larger container, it can be placed in one that is best suited for the given arrangement.

Ikebana has a very rich history and philosophy that I have never had a chance to study; for instance, in the most basic composition three stems are slanted in certain ways to symbolize the relationship between heaven, earth, and human being. When I work on my flower arrangements, I don’t usually think about these higher meanings. But I do enjoy every step of the process from selecting flowers to finding the right surface and background in my apartment for the finished arrangements. I wish I could say the same about writing.

And yet last night Ikebana taught me something really valuable about writing: concentration and discipline cannot fully preempt chaos. There was a moment when my major stems were in place, but the arrangement wasn’t appealing. It didn’t express what I intended it to express. Usually by the end of process, I’m pleasantly surprised that the final composition is more exact and beautiful than I imagined it to be. This was not the case yesterday!

I was upset, but then reminded myself that I wasn’t fully done, that there were several small flowers and leaves I could add to reshape the arrangement. Not really having faith in my actions, I cut my remaining thin stems and began sticking them into the kenzan. Magically, my unbalanced composition was transformed into a (not exactly minimalist) cascade of yellow daisies!

Now I have to go back to my conference abstract, and I so hope it will be transformed in the same way.

Our Course Blog Will Eat Your Brains

One of our goals in supporting Blogs@Baruch is to generate new models for online and hybrid instruction. We encourage the faculty we work with to confront the challenging question of what’s made pedagogically possible by using an online publishing platform.

The potential answers are vast. They include, but are not limited to, extending the classroom by tying together face-to-face meetings; creating opportunities for the social consideration of course material; imagining a range of audiences; staging larger assignments; inviting and providing a platform for students to easily create and share work that is visual and/or aural in nature; providing a tool for nurturing, reinforcing, and tapping into the sense of community in a course; and, of course, easily sharing course materials with students.

Faculty who are relatively new to teaching with technology usually design course sites that take advantage of one or maybe two of the possibilities above. So, I have to give it up for Mikhail Gershovich and his students, who are absolutely killing it on the course blog for “Topics in Film: Fear, Anxiety, and Paranoia.” I’ve tried not to blog about this course blog because I don’t want to be seen as buttering up the boss. But when students showed up this week for a presentation dressed as zombies and attacked one of their classmates, I simply had to bite the bullet and write about this awesomeness.

They’re using their blog for a variety of purposes:

First, Mikhail uses it to share information with his students so that they can easily access course readings and find their way to a wide range of required and recommended films, compiled from disparate locations.

Second, the students are posting in a rotation to very specific prompts that he spent much time designing, and which mix an emphasis on close readings of text and film, allow students to write to reflect, and encourage students to find visual representations of their ideas.

Third, Mikhail has very much constructed the blog as a kind of social glue, tying students together by encouraging all to get Gravatars (though only some have… I’m surprised Dr. G hasn’t docked their grades), to comment regularly, and to write freely.

Fourth, the students will be using the blog to develop and present remixes or re-enactments of short sections of films they’ve engaged this semester, and will write to reflect upon how going inside the productive process impacts their perspectives on both the themes of the course, and the art of film overall.

So, kudos to this group: this is a ton of work they’ve taken on, and they’ve done so openly, creatively, and collaboratively. Mikhail has taken advantage of various support services in the most productive way, from the library’s subscription to the film repository Swank.com, to his Twitter network (where he crowd sourced ideas for films, readings, and discussion), to his awesome educational technologist — me — who he’s consulted on both technology and assignment design. We’re lucky to have their model to build upon.

I encourage you all to check out the site, and to scare the students by leaving some spooky comments.

*note: Jim Groom posted about this course blog simultaneously.

Dare to use (and teach) the semicolon! ;;;

semi
Creative Commons License photo credit: mag3737

As a Writing Fellow, I work with students who are having trouble structuring their essays, or need help clarifying their thesis statements, but sometimes I cannot help but address grammar problems. Yesterday I had some extra time with a student, so I gave him some feedback on a recurring grammar issue I noticed when I looked over his draft essay: rampant misuse of commas and semicolons! In speaking with him, it became clear that he didn’t really know what the difference was between a comma, semicolon, or colon, or when it was appropriate to use them.

As far as commas go, I taught him the “pause” trick. Read your sentences out loud to identify where you naturally pause, and that is where the comma(s) should go. When you read, your sentences out loud, it often becomes clear, when you’ve put in unnecessary commas. [When you read [pause] your sentences out loud [pause] it often becomes clear [pause] when you’ve put in unnecessary commas.]

Unfortunately, I did not have any neat tricks up my sleeve to explain semicolon usage. In the draft that the student showed me, his semicolons should have been commas; they did not connect two independent but related clauses that could stand on their own as complete sentences. “Get rid of them,” I advised. “If you don’t know how to use them, don’t use them at all.”

This got me thinking: I can help students identify when not to use the semicolon, but how do I teach them when it is appropriate to use? I’m a sociologist, not a grammarian! I’ve never had a formal grammar lesson myself, and cannot articulate all the rules of grammar, despite implicitly knowing and using them when I write. When I told the student to err on the side of caution by not using the semicolon, I realize that I was also erring on the side of caution in my proscriptive, rather than prescriptive, advice.

I was discussing this last night with a friend I ran into on the way home from the subway. My friend, who is absolutely not a grammarian either, reminded me about her favorite podcast, Grammar Girl. “I used a semicolon for the first time in my life this year, after listening to the Grammar Girl podcast about them,” she told me. By finally learning the rules about the semicolon, she finally felt confident about using them. Now, I’ve never been afraid to use the semicolon, but I’d like to feel more confident about teaching its usage. So, off to Grammar Girl I go.

Teaching teaching

The phrase “classroom management” appears a few times in this Sunday’s New York Times article on teaching, and the author seems to apologize for it. It is kind of icky, but why?

final exam
Creative Commons License photo credit: dcJohn

I think part of the problem is that it implies one-size-fits-all, when individual students are…individuals, and group dynamics vary from class to class. There are video clips in the article of teachers in class, with a narrator who explains their techniques. I watched all the ones on the Times website, and went to the Uncommon Schools site to watch more. They’re compelling and entertaining. And then, the wince factor arises with a description of how a teacher “draws kids’ attention to the normalcy of compliancy, everyone is doing it.” Lots of the ideas on the Uncommon Schools site seem useful and insightful, but I also know that if I tried to mimic what I’ve watched people do in videos, it would be ridiculous. There’s a smile between a teacher and a student in one clip that isn’t instructional so much as inspirational. It shows the kind of particular attention to a person’s distinct way of thinking and expressing themselves, that seems beyond these techniques and studies.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioLDgaA5Fqw[/youtube]

“I think that’s why after citing a lot of research on teaching, this article and a recent Atlantic article both claim that it is very hard to predict what traits make good teacher. The teacher is one part of a huge variable, and one person’s cheesy gesture is another’s brilliant interaction.

The Stressful CPE

184; Stress level: Midnight (please read description!)
Creative Commons License photo credit: Sara. Nel

After doing several workshops for students planning to take the CUNY Proficiency Exam (CPE) I’ve been thinking about some fairly basic questions about standardized testing that are nonetheless important ones. I’ve come to realize (as have other Fellows at Baruch) that one of the most important functions of these workshops is to alleviate student anxiety. While some students do not seem to worry too much about the exam, many (some of them excellent students) become rather anxious especially in regards to the time constraints. This raises a number of questions for me regarding the effectiveness of this form of assessment. Are we really setting up a situation that accurately measures student performance of these skills given the stress of the testing situation? According to this article, we aren’t.

As health blogger Laurie Pawlik-Kienlen points out, “Scientists have long known that long-term stress impairs brain cell communication, but they’re just now learning that even short-term stress – such as a few hours of anxiety – can negatively affect cognitive skills.” Pawlik-Kienlen cites research from the University of California (Irvine) School of Medicine as well as the Laboratory of Stress Research at Douglas Hospital Research Center to make this point. Given this negative affect of stress on memory it would seem that we are setting up students for failure. Of course, it could be argued that the anxiety-producing test situation is preparation for stress soon to be experienced by students in the work world. If this were the case, why wouldn’t we coach students on ways to manage this type of stress early in their educational careers? In general I understand the need for assessment of student learning; however, I wonder if it isn’t time for us to start thinking about some different ways of accomplishing this goal outside of the traditional timed exam.