I recently had
to show my Mom how to use my iPhone 4s. She wanted to call my Dad. I could
sense her fear. It was like she was crippled by the thought that she might break
something on my phone or cause some other calamity. A gadget that a two year
old plays with and learns intuitively felt so foreign to her. She was like a
fish out of water. I felt impatient. But the reality is, the way she felt and
responded is like how I sometimes feel and respond in the face of contemporary technological
changes that impact, among other things, education.
Have you ever
tried to drink from a fire hose? I haven't. But I do remember trying to drink
from a lawn-hose squirt-nozzle as a kid. I didn't drink much but I did manage
to squirt water in my eye and up my nose. Getting water in my eyes and up my
nose wasn't a pleasant experience. I stumbled around disoriented for a few
moments until my head cleared and the discomfort dissipated. In truth, I've
never seen anyone attempt to drink from a fire hose but I have seen videos of
water cannons being used by authorities to blast protesters and knock them on
their butts. If you've ever seen a newbie on ice skates, you get the picture.
If not, imagine lots of trepidation and thin air betwixt and between arms and
legs flailing in all directions in vain search for sturdy support.
Along with
excited curiosity, this is a little of how I feel when confronting the
explosion of technology and the recent changes taking place in society as well as in
education. Some of the changes they imply seem staggering. Revolutions are
bloody. They are not comfortable.
To use an
educational metaphor, my thoughts about emerging technology are a little like
those of an excited but anxious child on his first day of Kindergarten. What
will my new environment be like? Will I be able to "make friends"
with this rapidly changing educational context? Will I be competent? Will I be
able to succeed? Where is my security blanket-the way I've always done
things? Will the other kids (my students) like me in this new environment, especially
if I struggle while learning new tricks? Will I be able to keep up?
When I watch
videos like Mr. Winkle Wakes, I can identify with Mr. Winkle wanting to stay in
his comfort zone. I like comfort. I like being comfortable. As the Chinese
character implies, change is opportunity but it's also threatening. Like the
water cannon, change threatens to knock us me off my feet and at least
temporarily disorient me. As I try to drink and take in the new technology,
some spills and is wasted because I don't know how to use it. I have a fancy
gadget (Panaboards anyone?) in my classroom but I haven’t been trained in how
to use it. ‘Smartboards’ can make great video screens.
As an educator,
am I a little like the one-year-old who gets a shiny new toy but prefers to
play with the box and wrapping paper instead?
You know you're
a technological dinosaur when you watch a video that you think is current, only
to find it was uploaded to YouTube in 2009. Don't you just hate that? The train
left the station hours ago. Hours are like years in the brave new wired-world
we live in.
You know you're
a tech newbie in danger of being left behind when you watch a video like 'Mr. Winkle Wakes' and you
totally identify with Mr. Winkle. You wrinkle your imaginary nose, wag your
metaphorical finger in your mind and you're like, "Hey, don't you be
poking fun at Mr. Winkle."
Just as one part
of the Chinese character for change is ‘threat’, the other part is
‘opportunity’. The kid on his first day in Kindergarten is still excited about
the possibilities. The first day turns into the second and the second, third.
Before long, our newbie is getting along famously in the sandbox. He’s learning
to share his new toys. As educators, we will learn how to share and collaborate
all over again.
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