The project's main goal was to simply provide more concrete ways for newer technologies (such as videos or blogs) to be implemented in the classroom. At first, this blog started out mainly hosting bits and pieces of my research, such as the pros and cons of a professor using a social networking site, and basic definition of some of the "hotter" media items today, but the blog quickly became the research itself...which was cool. The project began to shape itself more: me positing content that I tied in to various concepts/problems with English (context/allusion/intertextuality/figurative language), and in general, hinging very much on the feedback of others. I had two co-authors for this specific blog, both of whom I owe thanks for providing contributions and ideas to think about/use this new technology, but other than that, the direction of the site was mostly in the classes' hands -- what did they want to learn about, what new technologies were they interested in seeing that I could do the grunt work for, what new cool thing did they want to show to the class or connect with a post? With that in mind, a new kind of research question evolved: How best to gain this kind of learning-rich participation from the classroom.
The answer, the conclusion I have reached so far, is troubling. Most of the feedback is troubling, saying that the most effective way would be to make it a part of a syllabus, a percentage of a student's grade based holistically on criteria ranging from the number of posts they make to the "quality" of the post. It's interesting that there were only three main authors, simply because if everyone in a class was made an author, I'm not sure how many would have taken the initiative to post, knowing that it had no effect on their grade. The times I did get feedback/interaction was during class time, where students felt obligated to post, and while I did get some quality discussions going there about some of the issues I or others may have brought up, there was a definite lack of consistency to this. A lot of reasons were given as to the "why" this happened: lack of time, forgetting where the blog was, or feeling that there was nothing significant to add. While I can agree that a discussion forum like a blog shouldn't be used to just post will-he-nil-he, there is also a difference between reading the content, processing it, and providing a new, unique take on what's being presented. A remedy to forgetting the URL is simply to either bookmark it or feed to it with a feed reader (firefox has one built in, and their are things like protopage where you can host all your feed subscriptions online). That way, you can check your feed reader once or twice a day as you do normal surfing to "see" if anything new is created. I think the lack of time is probably the biggest area to suggest: again, with this not being "required," I don't think anyone felt extraordinarily compelled to comment -- they had their own projects to work on, which is totally understandable, but then again, in a classroom setting, usually students will always have something else to work on.
This brings us full circle -- how do you "beat" these odds concerning forums such as these (blogs, discussion boards, etc) and help foster in the student a feeling that they need to contribute without making them feel obligated or forced? I think, as of now, the best way may be a three-step model. The first step would be to begin by simply orienting them to the technology being used. I may have made too many assumptions about the ease in which people could access and use this site, so it may be best to begin by gauging the classrooms knowledge set -- what do they already know about x; how do they already use x in their everyday lives. With this in mind, I could move onto step two, which would result in showing students more "real world"/"academic" examples of the tool in use. That way, a student knows that the technology can be taken seriously, and is beneficial to learn instead of just being a waste of time, energy, and/or money. The last step would be to integrate some "fun" into the tool -- show them examples that are not only entertaining, but educational as well. This should show students the full gamut of a tool's functionality, and it may make them more likely to use the tool, knowing that it's nothing to be afraid of and the results of using the tool can benefit them in a variety of realms.
I don't think this project will ever end; rather, I am striving to keep the information as current as possible, adding more outlines of new technologies as they come down the line, and hopefully providing an interested user with the know-how to use them.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Protopages
Mr. J-Bizzle (aka Josh Benson) just pointed out a neat-o RSS feeder:
Proto Page
At first blush, it seems very flexible -- it's an online RSS feeder, so I assume once an account is created, you can sign on from anywhere and have access to all your feeds you want. I need to play with some more, but it looks like a real nice solution to possible problems of having to check a million sites to get what you want.
Proto Page
At first blush, it seems very flexible -- it's an online RSS feeder, so I assume once an account is created, you can sign on from anywhere and have access to all your feeds you want. I need to play with some more, but it looks like a real nice solution to possible problems of having to check a million sites to get what you want.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Blogs!
I'm a bit slow on the uptake, but for those that may teach research classes/group papers -- blog would be an awesome collaborative space. There is an option at least for this blog to limit the people who can see the information to the authorized authors, or a very select audience. Imagine splitting up a work loud and posting summarizes to a central repository, one that can be accessed online that's not taking up space (like a fatty word doc) -- this would eliminate the hassle of forgotten emails, attachments disappearing in ether, and other convenient excuses.
In the same mold, this would be awesome to work in a class that focuses on discussion, like 602 -- everyone could be given author permissions with the prof as admin, and maybe a person/group are responsible for providing talking points for each class/doing critical analyses of essays for one class. Again, there is this central repository of information, a microcosm community of academics, who are "freed" from traditional academic methods, yet still are "bound" by them (e.g., correct grammar, appropriate citations, but a "looser" style).
As usual, my ideas come out in jumbled spurts, but I can definitely see blogs becoming more and more collaborative spaces over time, and drastically cutting down research time, especially for group projects.
Comments?
<3 Gl3nn
In the same mold, this would be awesome to work in a class that focuses on discussion, like 602 -- everyone could be given author permissions with the prof as admin, and maybe a person/group are responsible for providing talking points for each class/doing critical analyses of essays for one class. Again, there is this central repository of information, a microcosm community of academics, who are "freed" from traditional academic methods, yet still are "bound" by them (e.g., correct grammar, appropriate citations, but a "looser" style).
As usual, my ideas come out in jumbled spurts, but I can definitely see blogs becoming more and more collaborative spaces over time, and drastically cutting down research time, especially for group projects.
Comments?
<3 Gl3nn
The Issues of Rhetoric
Using and studying lolcats steers us to many dimensions of rhetorical persuasion we might overlook. Glenn's entries focus on the nonverbal persuasive dimensions and the emotions involved in persuasion. If we jump into this and discuss it a bit more at our working session on Wednesday, we can address more of those questions.
Please read his earlier entries and conribute your entries. His research project depends on our participation.
RP
Please read his earlier entries and conribute your entries. His research project depends on our participation.
RP
Friday, November 7, 2008
Cognitive Technology
I worked in bookselling from 1994 to 2004. During that time, the death of the book was a constant source of conversation and consternation. I imagine that it still is. And yet… And yet the book continues to not die. The survival of the book depends on a complex array of factors—the conservative nature of the publishing industry, the singular smell of old paper in a leather binding—but, fundamentally, the book persists because it is a remarkably successful piece of technology.
When we encounter the word “technology,” we tend to think of things that run on silicon chips and have an LED screen. We think, for example, of the iPhone. The iPhone is, of course, a piece of technology. It was invented for a complex array of reasons—Apple’s market-driven need to duplicate the success of the iPod, the gadget-lover’s desire for a new new thing—but, basically, it exists because people would rather have one small device that allows them to check e-mail, take photos, listen to music, google stuff, and—oh, yeah—make phone calls than carry around 20 pounds of electronic equipment.
The book as we know it exists because people found it preferable to stone tablets, papyrus scrolls, and the various other means of recording and transmitting text that were invented before somebody had the brilliant idea of folding together separate pages and binding them between two covers. The book has changed over the millennia, of course—very few of us have our books hand-printed and illuminated by monks these days—but the basic form persists because it works. The digitization of printed material is a worthwhile project, and I’m interested to see where it goes. I have, myself, used and purchased ebooks. It’s nice to have the Harlequin novel I want delivered to my computer at the click of a button. However, if I try to take my laptop out into the backyard on a sunny day, or if I try to read my romance in the bathtub, I discover once again what a wonderful piece of technology the lowly mass market paperback is.
I’ve been thinking about this because Professor Primeau mentioned print-on-demand in our last class, and because we talked about the value of traditional scholarly discourse. I’ve been thinking that the hoary old expository paper persists because it works. It’s important to be aware of the many ways in which the academy has been and continues to be exclusionary, and I remain open to the possibility that there may be something inherently discriminatory about traditional discourse. I would like to argue that discrimination is not, itself, a bad thing—if what academic discourse rejects is bad scholarship rather than groups of people. But I also know that groups of people have been excluded by the academy arguing that certain groups of people are constitutionally incapable of sound scholarship. So…
So, I guess I would like to suggest, as some of my colleagues did Wednesday night, that traditional discourse is valuable because it works well. As a means of communication, it has proven useful in transmitting thoughts from one person to another. And, as a piece of what we might call cognitive technology, it encourages critical thinking and enforces clear organization. It is an effective tool for fostering a community of ideas.
But, I would like to add that this doesn’t mean that there’s no room for innovation, just as the advent of the paperback didn’t mean that no one would ever again need or want a hardbound book. What it means is that pretty much every paper I write begins as a five-paragraph theme—the form I learned from Ms. Dye in the tenth grade. Often, I find it necessary to deviate from this scheme. We did talk briefly Wednesday night about the possibility that certain texts require particular—even “alternative”—forms, and I think that makes perfect sense. But, myself, I don’t abandon the traditional form that has served me so well over twenty years of schooling until I feel that I don’t have a choice.
Certainly, with my latest research, I tried strenuously to wrestle it into a paper before I decided that it really should be a website. I’m guessing, though, that, when I reach the end of the project, I will feel the need to summarize my web-based experience. I’m guessing that I’ll feel compelled to organize my thoughts and try to arrive at some conclusions. I’m guessing that when I’m finished with this process of assessment, what I’ll end up with is a text that looks very much like a good, old-fashioned expository paper.
When we encounter the word “technology,” we tend to think of things that run on silicon chips and have an LED screen. We think, for example, of the iPhone. The iPhone is, of course, a piece of technology. It was invented for a complex array of reasons—Apple’s market-driven need to duplicate the success of the iPod, the gadget-lover’s desire for a new new thing—but, basically, it exists because people would rather have one small device that allows them to check e-mail, take photos, listen to music, google stuff, and—oh, yeah—make phone calls than carry around 20 pounds of electronic equipment.
The book as we know it exists because people found it preferable to stone tablets, papyrus scrolls, and the various other means of recording and transmitting text that were invented before somebody had the brilliant idea of folding together separate pages and binding them between two covers. The book has changed over the millennia, of course—very few of us have our books hand-printed and illuminated by monks these days—but the basic form persists because it works. The digitization of printed material is a worthwhile project, and I’m interested to see where it goes. I have, myself, used and purchased ebooks. It’s nice to have the Harlequin novel I want delivered to my computer at the click of a button. However, if I try to take my laptop out into the backyard on a sunny day, or if I try to read my romance in the bathtub, I discover once again what a wonderful piece of technology the lowly mass market paperback is.
I’ve been thinking about this because Professor Primeau mentioned print-on-demand in our last class, and because we talked about the value of traditional scholarly discourse. I’ve been thinking that the hoary old expository paper persists because it works. It’s important to be aware of the many ways in which the academy has been and continues to be exclusionary, and I remain open to the possibility that there may be something inherently discriminatory about traditional discourse. I would like to argue that discrimination is not, itself, a bad thing—if what academic discourse rejects is bad scholarship rather than groups of people. But I also know that groups of people have been excluded by the academy arguing that certain groups of people are constitutionally incapable of sound scholarship. So…
So, I guess I would like to suggest, as some of my colleagues did Wednesday night, that traditional discourse is valuable because it works well. As a means of communication, it has proven useful in transmitting thoughts from one person to another. And, as a piece of what we might call cognitive technology, it encourages critical thinking and enforces clear organization. It is an effective tool for fostering a community of ideas.
But, I would like to add that this doesn’t mean that there’s no room for innovation, just as the advent of the paperback didn’t mean that no one would ever again need or want a hardbound book. What it means is that pretty much every paper I write begins as a five-paragraph theme—the form I learned from Ms. Dye in the tenth grade. Often, I find it necessary to deviate from this scheme. We did talk briefly Wednesday night about the possibility that certain texts require particular—even “alternative”—forms, and I think that makes perfect sense. But, myself, I don’t abandon the traditional form that has served me so well over twenty years of schooling until I feel that I don’t have a choice.
Certainly, with my latest research, I tried strenuously to wrestle it into a paper before I decided that it really should be a website. I’m guessing, though, that, when I reach the end of the project, I will feel the need to summarize my web-based experience. I’m guessing that I’ll feel compelled to organize my thoughts and try to arrive at some conclusions. I’m guessing that when I’m finished with this process of assessment, what I’ll end up with is a text that looks very much like a good, old-fashioned expository paper.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Intertexuality
As a discipline, folkloristics is built on the principle of intertextuality. While contemporary folklorists respect each performance a folktale as a unique text, folklorists believe that critical consideration of that text must take into account not only other iterations of the same tale, but also various versions of related tales. The key reference works of folkloristics—the Aarne-Thompson classification system and Stith Thompson’s Motif-Index of Folk-Literature—are, essentially, attempts to map the terrain of folklore by identifying common elements and tracing them through multiple variants of thousands of tale types.
These works are amazing artifacts of the structuralist impulse, and they are invaluable tools for folkloristics. This is not, however, to say that they are easy to use. There are a number of reasons why this is the case, but one of them is the dumb physical labor or repeatedly flipping back and forth—referencing and cross-referencing—across several thick volumes of close type. I am, at the moment, involved in a research project that relies heavily on both the AT system and the motif index, and it has occurred to me—several times an hour—that this is one instance in which electronic text would be vastly superior to print text.
It has also occurred to me, as I have amassed information and tried to wrestle it into coherence, that my project itself would make so much more sense in hypertext than on paper. Electronic expression allows me to demonstrate how the intertextual approach to folklore works, rather than just describe it. It also makes it easy for the reader to take whatever avenue of exploration is most compelling, rather than follow my narrowly delimited argument—a feature that is especially appealing to me, since I don’t actually have an argument. My project is research of the purest kind: I’m not seeking evidence in support of a thesis; I am, rather, just travelling through the texts, looking for whatever I find.
So, here it is: my research project, one step at a time…
These works are amazing artifacts of the structuralist impulse, and they are invaluable tools for folkloristics. This is not, however, to say that they are easy to use. There are a number of reasons why this is the case, but one of them is the dumb physical labor or repeatedly flipping back and forth—referencing and cross-referencing—across several thick volumes of close type. I am, at the moment, involved in a research project that relies heavily on both the AT system and the motif index, and it has occurred to me—several times an hour—that this is one instance in which electronic text would be vastly superior to print text.
It has also occurred to me, as I have amassed information and tried to wrestle it into coherence, that my project itself would make so much more sense in hypertext than on paper. Electronic expression allows me to demonstrate how the intertextual approach to folklore works, rather than just describe it. It also makes it easy for the reader to take whatever avenue of exploration is most compelling, rather than follow my narrowly delimited argument—a feature that is especially appealing to me, since I don’t actually have an argument. My project is research of the purest kind: I’m not seeking evidence in support of a thesis; I am, rather, just travelling through the texts, looking for whatever I find.
So, here it is: my research project, one step at a time…
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