Cyber-Social
This blog is a public forum for meditations on online communication and the formation of virtual communities. It begins its life as a component of my summer 2011 class on the same topic. Contributions here have been made (at least initially) by students enrolled in that class. However, we welcome comments from all others and will seriously consider any contributions to the conversation.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
What does it mean for educators to own their own content?
First off, read this article. It does a fair job of covering Apple's costly plans to replace traditional textbooks in K-12 schools and beyond. What's scarier here for the obvious cost issues is this line here Noguchi writes, "Every year, the school district will have to buy more $14.99 textbooks that it will never own."
I've never considered myself a strict materialist; in fact, I think a widespread embracing of an economics and politics of virtualization and the intentions and extensions of a technologically extended body is an important and overlooked aspect of education, generally. I don't think that books need to be physical objects in the future of education. However, I'm wary that one company (Apple) may be making a bid to serve up a proprietary e-book format, only playable on their devices. While they may be offering a free book creation service, they will determine what e-books are "suitable" for their store, and what to reject.
We're quite possibly looking at the barrel-end of peer-reviewed scholarship here. If a profit-driven company takes hold of any exclusive fraction of the education market (an unfortunate trend already underway in universities), we're going to see severe drops in the quality of educational materials, hiding under the guise of self-publishing.
Educators and librarians need to be making a bid for open standards, be they HTML5, or some new standard. Why should we ever choose to adopt a proprietary standard from a single consumer electronics company? This is would be similar to a single paper company copyrighting the bookmaking process and putting a financial analyst and paper/ink/binding quality control person in charge of vetting any and all future educational publications.
We can't let one corporation determine (and have editorship over in their digital stores) what textbooks our children can access. Even if their devices get cheaper in time, their business model for education needs to be fought in order to preserve the diversity of ideas and opinions that we are trying to preserve in our collective pedagogy about and embedded within the world.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
(I Don't Usually Title Stuff)
According to the DeLuca and Peeples, the public sphere evokes echoes of ancient Greece, a place to be seen and heard, with an amplified solo voice always addressing a captive audience in an arena with a stone microphone. I find the imagery and visual rhetoric of this metaphor useful. Don't really know about ancient Greece though, but if i associate that role with the West African tradition of a griot it makes sense to me. I'll admit I struggle with anxieties with writing online, the thought of writing in stone, if you will, posting a blog publicly, that I can't quickly delete, frightens me. As a spoken word artist I am more familiar with the ephemerality of performance.
[Press play to listen while you read the rest slowly simotaneously ;-)...]
situated in the local
i am an advocate who articulates in a modality
auto-ethnographic
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
The Art Of Digital Communication
The school that started my adventures with Facebook |
My pride and joy; Miss. Gucci |
Core Communication Courses Online – Not a Good Idea, or Necessary?
Any online communication classes available? |
This is my first time publicly blogging. I experienced my first reading of a blog during this SPCM 421 class (summer 2011). I was thinking when I joined this class, I might learn how to catch up to technology and find out about the online world that I had been missing out on. Prior to this class, my daily online interactions consisted of Facebook and PSN (Playstation Network). We did spend a day talking about online education classes as well as the same topic coming up once or twice a week on side conversations. I do have personal experience taking online courses and have many friends who have also taken them. I would like to comment on web-based online communication education courses.
“Online communication” is a valid form of communication and is growing rapidly. Businesses are turning to Skype more and more instead of in-person conversations and meetings. The future of businesses and institutions seem to be holding Skype as its new way of dealing with clients and members. Skype is reporting that 35 percent of its users utilize it for business purposes. This means that out of the 560 million users on Skype, 196 million of them are using it for business purposes. This number has increased by 25% in the last year (statistics from 2009). It appears that Skype will be a tool for all businesses in the future, meaning students need to learn how to use it. The best way to learn may be from actually using it in an online communication class.
On-campus integration? |
Varieties of teaching help us succeed! |
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Cyber Nostalgia
(lolcats on the nets) |
Can you recall the day you learned how to create and send out a text? Or the day you received your first text message? I can recall the very first person I had a text conversation with; I remember feeling giddy, tech savvy, and full of excitement.
My first finger conversation was with a boy I went to high school with; we had a past, but had lost touch over some time. Because of a single text message, a text message of simple words, “hey how are you?” the boy and I were able to rekindle an old flame. Talk about exhilarating.
When I think back at the beginning stages of texting, I still get thrilled. It was new and freeing. I wasn’t faced with the horror of actually speaking over the phone or in person, with the individual I liked or maybe didn't like. I don’t know if you were all as shy as me as a teenager, or young adult, but boy-oh-boy my face turned into an instant tomato as soon as I was approached or approached someone I was crushing on. It was embarrassing and exhausting. I always felt I needed to pre-plan a scripted conversation in my head before actually speaking.
With that said, the popularizing of the text message allowed me come out of my shell. I began to develop a sense of confidence, and was more at ease not only messaging people but talking to them face-to-face as well. I believe that the progression of text messaging has really helped in developing my personality; I suppose it became part of me as well, an important part of me.
“We have seen young people walk the halls of their schools composing messages to online acquaintances they will never meet. We have seen them feeling more alive when connected, then disoriented and alone when they leave their screens. Some live more than half their waking hours in virtual places.” (265)
Turkle discusses the excitement one feels when they are connected, she claims that “some live more than half their walking hours in virtual places” I believe this to be true, but I do not see a fault in it. Turkle then goes on to explain how when unconnected- we are “disoriented” and “alone.” She expresses her concern: when unconnected we feel out of the loop, or like she said, “alone.” I can relate; I definitely see how one could feel this way. Have you ever lost your phone and had to live a week or so with out it? It seriously turns you into a crazy person; I do not believe this to be a negative feeling though. In today’s society it is becoming the norm to be virtually connected at all times, and this is not going to change. We need to take it in stride and progress with new ideas and new social networks that will keep us grounded, yet connected.
I not only have reminiscent feelings of nostalgia with texting, but I also have nostalgia for early social networks.
One of the very first websites I spent a significant amount of time at was on TFLN also known as "texts from last night." Is it a coincidence that I both started texting and reading about people texting at the same time? I’m not sure. Some could argue that TFLN came much later than text messaging; I guess I was a late bloomer. For those of you who are not familiar with TFLN, it is a website based off of text submissions. People submit funny, gross, inappropriate and totally random text messages they have received or have sent out. For example:
I can remember spending hours on the website, laughing, sharing, re-texting the submitted texts to my friends etc. I was obsessed with the fact that you could submit a text, share it with others, and then re-text it to even more people. I would send out mass texts of the texts I was reading online… I loved it. This obsession sparked the social networking "panda" inside of me; after this I began looking harder into different websites, blogs etc. This is when I discovered lolcats.com(813): The last thing I remembered was laying in the bathtub fully clothed with the shower running while he was picking grilled cheese out of my hair. I couldn't figure out if i was more upset about being soaking wet or the fact that my grilled cheese was in my hair instead of my mouth. (TFLN)
Now it's hard to describe lolcats in words. It sounds very childish and immature, but if I had to give a definition of the website I would say it’s a portfolio of cat photographs with horribly phrased captions ("grammatically incorrect," if you will) that are completely hilarious. Only pictures do this site justice.
(Donotwant Lolcats)
So along with spending hours upon hours text messaging, I also spent hours on TFLN and then on lolcats: I texted my friends about texts from last night; I texted my friends about lolcats and forwarded pictures; I shared texts from last night on facebook; I shared my favorite lolcats photos on facebook; I emailed my friends both of these websites and also texted them the links to these websites, if I hadn’t discussed the sites with them before. As you can see, I get extremely nostalgic daydreaming about my beginning days of texting, and my favorite new social networking websites. For me, I linked them all together to ultimately create a super massive collaboration of Amanda’s likes. I liked texting, reading about texts, texting about cats and seeing pictures of cats. I got connected in a way that I will never forget: I started a relationship solely because of a text message, and I entertained myself by reading dirty texts and looking at ridiculous cats whenever I could. I daydream about that beginning technology and cyber-stage of my life.
Bring it on, Turkle.
Turkle, Sherry. Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. New York: Basic Books, 2011. Print.
http://www.facebook.com/
Robot Apocalypse
The robots look like the machines pictured in this post. Human appearance was not reflected in the design – just a machine that cruised around on wheels. Each robot contained six sonar sensors. With a little bit of programming, the sensors allowed the robots to determine the distance between them and an obstacles in their path. This helped the robots communicate with each another to avoid collisions when navigating autonomously. If a human wished to intervene, we designed a touch-screen tablet that an operator could use to control the robots remotely, and the human could see what they “see” through a webcam mounted on the robot. This allowed the operator to navigate the machines around even if he or she was not in the same room.
We gave this technology to high school students during computer science day, because the robots were fun to use and we thought students would find them entertaining. During the demonstration, sometimes the robots' sonar ping would travel through a wall and hit the studs, throwing off the distance the robots calculated between themselves and the wall. As a result, the robots sometimes rammed into walls at full speed and made a few (additional) holes in Faner Hall.
The emotional impact on everyone was different. High school students, and us, winced when the robots slammed the wall, but for different reasons. Unlike the high school students, we didn't want the robots damaged primarily because they were expensive. The robots also had value to us because we spent a lot of time working with them. Nothing more. The robots were simply machines. It wasn't the same “feeling” of being intensely connected with non-living objects, as many individuals described in Sherry Turkle's book Alone Together. The robot was programmed to conduct simple tasks, and it just needed to work at the end of the day.
The high school students in attendance felt a bit different. The ability to control the robots was exciting, and they didn't want to lose a source of entertainment. Some high school students probably saw a robot slamming against a wall as serious excitement, especially when it created a new hole. When our robots had a collision, the unintended disruption caused many high school students to want to take control of the robots. A connection developed between the people wanting to compete over who could operate the robots most effectively, and not necessarily the connection between humans and machines themselves. In this case, the technology helped facilitate bonding and built friendships in the form of competition. It was healthy. To the high school students, I suspect watching the robots accidentally slam into the walls was a healthy and safe way to relieve some aggression indirectly – similar to why people watch boxing or aggressive sports. I also suspect that if Sherry Turkle was reading this post, she would probably express her legitimate concern to me and disagree completely, claiming these actions are destructive to society.
Later, when the robots were navigating autonomously, we programmed them to avoid obstacles and each other. Students often took this as an opportunity to walk into a group of robots operating autonomously, curious how the machines would react. As expected, the robots tried to move quickly out the way and avoid the students and each other, but the students also had to move to avoid them in the chaos. Both the operator and the robot would manipulate each others actions in a response to a disturbance. The high school students seemed to enjoy this the most. Perhaps it was the mystery of the robot that they found intriguing. It makes me question if the “connection” that Sherry Turkle mentions between humans and robotics would remain once the novelty diminished. Much like a human relationship, it's likely to get boring if it remains predicable. As a programmer, I knew how the machine would react, so perhaps my perception of the robot was different than what the high school students felt.
We also programmed the robots to follow people that came within a certain distance. The robots provided attention to the high school students and responded to their behavior and interactions by following them. When the occasional pedestrian member passed by too close to our demonstration, the robots would stop following the high school students and would begin to follow the pedestrian instead. At first it was amusing because this was completely unexpected. Innocent bystanders were suddenly in control of our robots. Some bystanders were anxious because they accidentally influenced the demonstration. Others enjoyed being the center of attention. Realizing this, students began to compete for control over who could get the most robots to follow them. It was a competition, and connection, between people... not humans and machine.
This robot demonstration was on my mind when reading Sherry Turkle's book Alone Together. As programmers, when the robots hit a wall, sometimes we just felt bad because of the potential loss of value in the robot and the time put into it. It was like a car... we work hard to pay for our vehicles and feel terrible when they get rear ended in a parking lot. We felt the same when the robots had a collision, which is why I found it so difficult to relate to Turkle's stories. When students had the attention of the robot, there was a feeling of satisfaction because of the human interactions that took place. These interactions were facilitated by the use of technology, and it was healthy – even when things went wrong. When that attention was lost, there was disappointment. Communication, even with objects, can play with our emotions in many unexpected ways. The outcome isn't always terrible, either.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Our Life in Photographs: the Art of Remembering or Technological Distraction?
With the rise in popularity of cell phones with cameras and small, user-friendly digital cameras, it is no wonder that almost everywhere we go, we can witness someone taking a picture, or have our picture taken. Since cameras of all varieties can now fit in our purses and even our pockets, we can use them to capture any and every daily moment, and many of us do. I am interested in exploring here our desire to record our lives through our abundant and very present technological devices.
Sherry Turkle, author of the book Alone Together, refers to this phenomenon as "life capture." She writes, "These days, anyone with a smart phone (equipped with a camera and/or video recorder) is close to having a portable archivist. And indeed, many say that when they don't use their mobile phone to document their lives, they feel remiss, guilty for not doing so" (pp. 299-300).
The desire to record our life experiences (and the concerned response over this constant archiving) is nothing new. During my senior year of college, I embarked upon an adventure called "Europe Semester" with fifty other students and three professors from my university. In three and a half months we visited twelve countries with one suitcase, and little technology (compared to what we might have brought now in 2011.) With no laptops, a few iPods and digital cameras, and even fewer cell phones, many of us (including myself) furiously recorded our experiences in our handwritten journals and on our film cameras. Even without much technology, I often felt distracted by my own desire to record all of my experiences. (I have to admit, sometimes I would even visit a point of interest and imagine how the layout of photographs and ticket stubs would appear in my scrapbook.) However, even though I was often thinking of my scrapbook layouts, I don't believe that I experienced those moments and places any less, just simply through a different lens. To some, capturing and recording a place or event through technology allows them to experience the space more richly and with new artistic perspectives.
CS Lewis writes in The Great Divorce, "If you're interested in the country only for the sake of painting it, you'll never learn to see the country." Here he questions if we are truly experiencing the places, people, and events of our lives to the fullest if we are caught up in the business of recording it all. I appreciate this point and wonder about the distraction and possible burden that life recording may cause. I also know that I am very thankful for the photographs and journal entries that serve as the only tangible memories of this college experience.
I am drawn to the ways that photographs serve as a method, an art, of remembering. Several web-based photographic collaboration projects speak to the ways photographs preserve moments in time. "Dear Photograph" is a new tumblr that curates submissions of photographs that juxtapose older photographs, and the space and time in which they were taken, with that same space in a current context (see example below). Check out the tumblr to read the sweet/moving/nostalgic photo captions. Artist Jason Powell takes on a similar concept in his Flickr series titled, "Looking into the Past." However, instead of using personal photographs, he has chosen to use images from the Library of Congress as his subject matter. He has also created a group on Flickr, which allows others interested in a similar process of remembering to upload and share their photographs as well.
I love the way Frederick Buechner, in his compilation of essays titled A Room Called Remember, describes the process of remembering as an important and intentional practice:
"But there is a deeper need yet . . . —not all the time, surely, but from time to time—to enter that still room within us all where the past lives on as a part of the present, where the dead are alive again, where we are most alive ourselves to turnings and to where our journeys have brought us. The name of the room is Remember—the room where with patience, with charity, with quietness of heart, we remember consciously to remember the lives we have lived." - Frederick Buechner
I know, without a doubt, that my own practice of remembering is aided by the photographs that I (or my friends and family) have taken. Photographs elicit memories of moments and experiences that vanished too quickly to be written down. For a short time at least, photographs can bring back emotions, people, or places as we once experienced them. Photographs are an important part of the art of remembering.
However, our drive to constantly archive our lives through our technological devices brings several issues into question. First, Sherry Turkle is concerned that through our "life capture," we might slowly lose the ability to remember. She writes, "If technology remembers for us, will we remember less? Will we approach our own lives from a greater distance?" (p. 300). If we only remember a person or experience when the photograph appears on our screen saver or Facebook wall, have we missed the work, the intentionality of remembering that Buechner writes about? What becomes lost, when we forget how to remember?
Turkle also suggests that our desire to keep up with our own life archive is not only an act of remembering, but also an act of seeking validation. Many of us might send our iPhone pictures straight to Twitter or Facebook, in order to immediately share our experiences with our friends. Turkle writes, "But these days, the photograph is not enough. Sending implies being" (p. 302). We wait with anticipation for a friend's vacation photos to appear on our Facebook feed. If they never appear, we wonder if our friend lost their phone, or maybe even that their trip plans got canceled. This might cause one to wonder, if we didn't photograph it, were we really there?
Others are concerned about the distraction that constant life capture through digital photography devices may cause. A recent article by the author of the popular blog Off Beat Bride describes how some couples are electing to have an "unplugged wedding," asking guests to not use their cameras or electronic devices for a certain portion of time during the day, or not at all. The author, Ariel, writes, "Welcome to the era of the over-documented wedding, where, even if you've hired someone to take photos, every guest has a camera and an iPhone and is tweeting the whole event. They're there with you, but are they really present?" Off Beat Bride also offers "copy 'n' paste" ideas for wording on programs and signs to inform guests politely of the unplugged policy.
Susan Sontag, author, director, and activist, wrote in her book On Photography: "Photography has become one of the principle devices for experiencing something, for giving an appearance of participation . . .Our very sense of situation is now articulated by the camera’s interventions. The omnipresence of cameras persuasively suggests that time consists of interesting events, events worth photographing" (p. 10-11). Turkle would probably agree with Sontag here, as she completes her book Alone Together on the last page by questioning if the archived life is truly living?
I end here with a couple of questions for us to think about: What drives our desire to archive our lives through technology? What might we gain or what might we miss as we capture experiences through our abundant and ever-present technological devices? And last, do you view this phenomenon as an art of remembering or a technological distraction, or somewhere in between?
Image Credits (in order of appearance):
1. Derren Raser
2. Leslie Kalbfleisch via Dear Photograph
3. Nora and Tony of Aurora Photography via Off Beat Bride
Works Cited:
Buechner, Frederick. A Room Called Remember: Uncollected Pieces. San Francisco: Harper, 1992. Print.
Lewis, C. S. The Great Divorce. New York: Macmillan, 1946. Print.
Sontag, Susan. On Photography. New York : Farrer, Straus and Giroux, 1977. Print.
Turkle, Sherry. Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. New York: Basic Books, 2011. Print.