This morning, a convo developed on my Twitter stream about helping primary school-age kids learn basic computer skills.
This convo highlights some issues that have been addressed among educational bloggers quite a bit lately and that became especially pertinent to me this summer as I realized just how digitally illiterate my 9 year old is compared to (some) others his age.
In her post, “Is There a Digital Divide or an Intellectual-Pedagogical One?”, Jackie Gerstein ponders just how much of the “digital divide” is located within and perpetuated by schools, both the trenches of the socioeconomic divide and the supposed source of the intellectual currency needed to bridge that divide:
- But I wonder if the digital divide is really an intellectual or pedagogical one.
- I wonder that if a comparison was done of higher and lower income schools, what would be the ratio of 1:1 (one mobile device per student during school time) initiatives?
- I wonder, for those lower income schools, how many students have computer devices at home that match those they are using in school.
- I wonder if technology integration strategies are similar for higher income schools in comparison to lower income schools.
While there may be differences in which schools have more access to technology, I’m not sure that there is much difference in how those schools use that access. As recently pointed out by Lee Skallerup Bessette in her article “It’s about Class: Interrogating the Digital Divide”, low-income families and schools place a premium on protecting their valuable resources:
There is little time or mental energy for an individual or family trying to make ends meet to just sit and play with their technology. Failure, as well, is more expensive, because if something breaks, there is no time or money to fix it. There are also few resources in the schools to help foster this sense of play and experimentation. In this era of high-stakes testing, suggesting to schools that are “failing” that perhaps what they need is less structured time and more time to play and experiment (particularly with technology) is unthinkable. Once again, the fear of failure, of breaking something, is too great. Firewalls are erected; computers and software are used for drill and kill exercises, if at all; strict rules and guidelines developed and enforced, and tech just becomes one more tool that imposes the banking concept of education on students.
While Bessette provides a bleak but not so surprising overview of how technology is viewed and used in her poverty-stricken area of the country, this fear of giving students the license to drive technology is evident in my own son’s school, which, by most standards, would fall within the middle-class socioeconomic bracket. The median household income for our county is $42,000 to $52,999 (this is in Alabama, where the cost of living and housing is relatively low). The suburban city school system in which my son is enrolled recently constructed two new school buildings, added an addition onto one, and remodeled another, plus built a community arts center. There are four elementary schools, one intermediate school, two junior high schools, and one high school. But, as reflected in my tweets, this economic capital has not resulted in increased access to technology for the students. My son’s school, one of the newly-constructed, has a single computer lab. Students use the lab during one 50-minute class each week. Most of the work done during the computer class involves extremely basic skills focused on completing worksheet-type lessons. In 3rd grade, students are taught to create a PowerPoint. Each student completed a PowerPoint on an assigned state and, as mentioned in my tweet, were given guidelines regarding what to place on each slide, and their slideshows were saved on the school’s server, so that students’ access to them was limited to the lab. My son’s 3rd grade classroom also had three desktop computers that were used to take Accelerated Reading tests.
This example provides an insightful view into one school’s philosophy regarding technology. What is most disconcerting for me is how technology is isolated into a distinct domain. Technology has it’s own space geographically–a lab or distinct computer area in the classroom–and temporally–lab time or testing time. This has an intellectual ripple effect for students: technology is to be used for distinct, domain-specific practices. Bessette has experienced the pushback that results from such schooling in her English classes:
I have been trying to get my students in Freshman Writing to blog, use Twitter, and to play with the technology that is available to them. I have always been met with great resistance. For them, Twitter is a waste of time, blogging is just an essay in another form, tech is a tool they have been taught to fear. This is not to say that they don’t know how to play, to create, to experiment. One of the reasons they disdain the technology is because many of them don’t see how it will help them get a job in their low-tech worlds.
Interestingly, this same kind of resistance exists in my area, where technology-heavy jobs are the norm (the major employment sectors are health care, the government, and education). I often come face-to-face with this philosophy in my classes as many students question having to use digital media in my writing and literature classes. One student in my summer FYC course blatantly expressed the belief that, since he had signed up for an English class, he did not think that he should be required to use technology. On the other hand, I have had two students who have used technology learned in my English classes to get (non-technology related) jobs. The aspect of technology that needs to be emphasized for today’s students is its flexibility and applicability beyond any one domain or discipline or even utility. Yet, this is not how technology is taught in many K12 schools, nor in many colleges. I share Gerstein’s fear that “the digital divide is really an intellectual and pedagogical one and that it is being perpetuated in our educational system by the use or lack thereof of the technologies that are influencing and driving our society-at-large.” While my son’s school has a computer lab, it’s as useful to him as the family car–it’s a vehicle that someone else gets to drive while he fulfills the role of passive passenger. Access alone is not enough, it’s how schools use the tools that they have.
Jean Anyon argues that the digital divide is not so much one of resources as one of “teaching methods and philosophies of education.” Colleges, as the educators of educators, must do more to encourage not only the integrating of technology, but a new philosophy of digital literacy. It’s important that this happen not just within schools of education, but throughout the disciplines. Secondary education majors spend just as much time in their specialty classrooms as they do education classrooms and, whether we realize it or not, look to those professors as models of teaching in action. Complicating the issue even further, the intellectual divide is a two-way street in the university environment. In my own department, many of the tenured professors view the use of technology and social media as dumbing-down the curriculum because it takes the focus away from both the human mind as an intellectual technology and the resulting analog (read: canonical) humanities. Those who favor the integration of technology and the digital humanities face both disdain from an entrenched conservatism and logistical hurdles in an environment in which our building (which houses English, drama, history, and foreign languages) is the last to receive any technological upgrades, if we receive any at all. In an ironic twist of fate, my department mirrors my son’s school with our one computer lab and our isolated, specially designated “computer-assissted” writing classes.
The good news, for my son, is that I have the economic capital and the access to and knowledge of technology and social networks to close the gap for him outside of school. Many of his classmates are not so lucky, either because of their parents’ a) socioeconomic status, b) lack of technology skills, c) belief that it’s the school’s job to teach digital literacy, d) faith that the school is doing so, or e) all of the above. Perhaps many of their parents share the school’s philosophy that technology has a place and time and that play and creation are not as important as school-sanctioned uses. Either way, there is no real pressure on the school system to change either their methods or philosophy regarding digital literacy because those parents who do value digital technology provide the economic and intellectual environments within which their children can attain digital literacies outside of school-sanctioned domains. And students are certainly not lined up at my Dean’s office to protest the lack of digital media in their college classes; they either don’t see a place for it in the humanities or would rather have the freedom to digitally play and create for themselves without school-sanctioned rules and regulations.
This philosophy of technology as something to be isolated into a controlled pedagogical environment devoid of context, connections, relevancy, or wider applicability is the real root of the digital divide. And until parents, students, and educators begin to take the initiative of other reform movements and demand a change in philosophy–not just more money and more computers–the divide will continue to widen.