It seems as if every time I turn on the television, there’s a show on that promises to help me organize my clutter. Believing that our environment influences our ways of looking at and being in the world, the show promises to give me the tools and teach me the tricks that will ensure a clean living space that will give way to a “cleaner” mental space. Suddenly, I think to myself that I too can conquer the world if I can conquer my clutter.
Everyday, I must obsessively check two email accounts and, time permitting, I check six other email accounts. I say “must” because if I didn’t check these accounts frequently, the amount of email will reach an overwhelming magnitude. Each account has a purpose, and each account seems to be swimming in its own madness that doesn’t have a method. If only there were a show that promised to help me organize my web and computer clutter.
When we think about technology and Writing Across the Curriculum or Communication Intensive Instruction, we try to think of creative ways to infuse communication instruction with technology. We turn to blogs and email lists and discussion groups and services such as BlackBoard. Every addition adds to the bulk of our email inboxes and the sites we bookmark and visit everyday. With more technology comes more reading, more viewing, more commenting, more time in front of our computers, less time doing work that is–and, yes, this still exists–paper-based.
When I was teaching composition, I once got a paper from a student that was written entirely in the language of text messaging. Another student of mine tried desperately all semester to use her Sidekick in class by hiding it in her purse. She even tried to convince me that it was her electronic dictionary. At the CUNY WAC orientation in September, someone suggested that we get students to use more technology in the classroom by asking them to do an assignment in the form of a text message. I thought to myself: My students didn’t need help with using technology in the classroom–they needed help knowing when to differentiate between appropriate and inappropriate uses of technology, how to organize their technology, how to streamline their technology, and how to keep technology from keeping them from non-technology based work that they still have to do.
I’m assuming that these students will grow up to be professionals, will enter into a life that demands eight or more email accounts, subscription lists, discussion groups, and more web-based services that have yet to be invented.
Technology has given us the tools to be creative in communication intensive instruction, but it hasn’t necessarily given us the tools to make our lives easier.
When I was teaching composition, I was told that integrating my students into academic life was part of my job; I was told that because the instructor is in many ways a liaison between the student and the college, I had to help them become academically responsible, even if this meant helping them learn simple things such as why they shouldn’t sleep in class, why they should come to class, why they should take notes, where they should go when they have a problem with registration or financial aid. At some colleges, there are services or orientation events that help students learn these skills.
I’m not advocating that we use less technology. As much as I bemoan the state of my inboxes, I love checking my email. I’m just thinking that sometime between getting my first email account and today, I missed a step.
If we ask our students and instructors to use more technology, to use technology creatively, to make technology-based communication part of the curriculum, do we also have a responsibility to provide them with skills to help them become more “technologically responsible?” Does the state of our inboxes affect our mental states? Would our academic lives be easier if our inboxes, bookmarks, and other technology-based communications were organized? What would a technology “De-Clutter Plan” look like?
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