Technology isn’t the Bogeyman You’re Looking For

I’m lucky. My love of computers and technology has been supported since childhood. I’ve gone to schools that were, if not exactly rich, still plenty wealthy enough to afford multiple computer labs (I played Oregon Trail on both Macs and PCs). Now, I study and teach at Purdue, where even the humanities are a haven for those who celebrate the potentials of technology.

Surrounded by all this positivity and support, it can be easy to forget that there are a lot of people out there who aren’t as gung ho about computers, digital access, and multi-modal publications as I am. At least…until I go home for the holidays and listen to family members talk about how “Video games are the reason kids don’t know how to do real things, like change tires!” or I read an op-ed piece in the New York Times about how too much tech isn’t really a good thing.

It’s no secret that I’m a techie and a gamer (nor would I want it to be), but I’m also a teacher. The last thing I want is for my passions and enthusiasm to get in the way of my students’ ability to learn and succeed. And, ultimately, I think technology’s nay-sayers share those same concerns. They see this sweep of devices and new techniques and are worried that fad-learning will hurt the people they are trying so hard to help. So this is a letter to Susan Pinker, to my relatives, and to my colleagues. I hear your concerns. I empathize with them. But I want to explain why I don’t think exposing students to technology is just a hobby or one approach of many…but my duty as a teacher.

Technology as Panacea

Pinker begins her article by highlighting how technology is seen as a cure-all…and let me stress that she isn’t wrong. The thing is, education policies are rife with “quick-fixes” that are supposed to make all our issues disappear. Go talk to any K-12 educator in the classroom and ask them their thoughts on high-stakes testing, No Child Left Behind, or Common Core. I guarantee there will be a lot of swearing.

Even so, if you really examine these movements and policies, it becomes clear that they aren’t the ultimate embodiment of evil (though there were many times I felt that way about NCLB). They are based in solid practice and in good intentions. They want to get a big-picture view of our educational system, hold teachers accountable, make sure economically and mentally challenged children get an equal chance at success, and ensure that our children leave the classroom with critical thinking skills. Obama’s promise to “protect a free and open Internet” and “extend its reach to every classroom and every community” is from a similar vein. Giving learners access to digital resources is a wonderful idea. The problem isn’t with the premise. It’s with the execution…and that’s not a problem that is limited to technology. That is a promise with panaceas. They are over-simplifications to complex problems.

Txting Hurtz teh Kidz

Pinker points to a 2010 study from Duke University which found that gaining access to home computers actually had a detrimental effect on students (particularly African-American boys). Children who suddenly gained access to home computing between 5th-8th grade struggled and fell behind, presumably distracted by the many non-academic purposes computers could offer. In their conclusion, Vigdor and Ladd say that:

The very existence of a “digital divide” implies that simple attempts to infer the impact of home computer use on achievement in non‐experimental settings are threatened by omitted variable bias… Using local variation in the timing of introduction of broadband internet service, as well as the within‐student analysis employed in the case of computer ownership, we find support for the hypothesis that access is in practice more detrimental for some students than others. The evidence is consistent with the view that internet service, and technology more broadly, is put to more productive use in households with more effective parental monitoring of child behavior. (34, emphasis mine)

Pinker focuses heavily on that detrimental effect, particularly in lower-income households where she says that “Babies born to low-income parents spend at least 40 percent of their waking hours in front of a screen — more than twice the time spent by middle-class babies. They also get far less cuddling and bantering over family meals than do more privileged children. The give-and-take of these interactions is what predicts robust vocabularies and school success. Apps and videos don’t.”

And here is where I think Pinker misses an important point…even if you removed all the screens from low-income houses, those children would not be getting more face-to-face time. Lower-income parents don’t drop their kids in front of a screen because they care less, or because they have a misguided view of the benefits of TV and computing. They do it because they are exhausted from having to work multiple jobs to barely scrape by, or because toys cost money and the TV is something the whole family can share, or because they are a single parent and they need a bit of alone time to be able to work/take care of the house/finish homework for night classes/what-have-you. What is actually being discussed here is a class barrier…not one of attention or technology.

Many middle-class or upper-class homes have access to screens much earlier than 5th grade. What distinguishes them from the cited students who “when their computers arrived, their reading scores fell off a cliff” is that they weren’t suddenly learning how to navigate a new system as they dove into middle school. Middle and upper class homes also probably have parents and siblings who are digitally fluent, so they can offer a support structure and learning environment where children aren’t forced to teach themselves the ins and outs of technology. If a lower-income student gains sudden access to a home computer, chances are that her parents may not have had experience with home computing either.

So no. Instant access is not enough. And yes, scores will probably take a backslide if students are suddenly overwhelmed with demands to conquer multiple systems at once. It’s like learning to drive. When a driver first begins to learn how to navigate a car, he has to think about everything. When to buckle the seatbelt. How to adjust the seat and the mirrors. When to look where. How hard to push on the gas pedal or the brake. Slowly and surely, these things become instinctual. If, later, you take an experienced driver and ask him to learn a new system (such as learning how to drive a manual transmission, or a semi), his driving will suffer, but only incrementally. The fundamentals of driving are already instilled, so it takes less time to get back to ground zero.

Let’s say, however, you take a novice driver. She’s only just beginning to find her feet with an automatic transmission when you drop her into a manual truck. She’s already faltering with the basics, and now there are two new systems to conquer on top of that. She is set up to fail. And heaven forbid that she have to teach herself, because no one in her family has ever driven at all…let alone with all those factors put together.

In this scenario, manual transmissions are not to blame. Trucks are not evil, or too prolific. The problem is that access alone is not enough.

Teacher Training

Pinker does reach the same conclusion…kind of. According to her, “ technology can work only when it is deployed as a tool by a terrific, highly trained teacher.” But she continues to say that technology, therefore, should stop where the teacher’s ability stops. No training? Uncomfortable with these new-fangled programs? No problem. Step back, teach to your level, and move on.

I get it. I really do. Teachers are massively underappreciated and over-worked. K-12 instructors have to juggle state standards, unsympathetic parents, state-mandated tests, and a ridiculous number of assemblies and announcements that cut into class-time (…if anyone ever wants to talk about the struggles of teaching in public schools, come to me. We can bond over coffee). Graduate instructors and adjunct professors are often thrust into classrooms with minimal training on the course material, let alone supplemental resources, and juggle massive course loads (both teaching and learning) that make the idea of “free-time” and “self-guided learning” a joke…and not a very funny one, at that. I am in this boat. I understand this struggle, and Lord knows I don’t want another thing added to my plate. I’m already full.

technology_featured

But I have to say this. We, especially those of us at the collegiate level and in tech-centered institutions like Purdue, are privileged. We don’t have to like technology, but we have access to all the programs and training we could want. We are surrounded by experts who are willing to reach out and give us and our students a hand up.

The fact of the matter is that low-income students will NOT have access to these kinds of resources. By the time these kids reach our classrooms, they are so far behind the technology game that catching them up can feel impossible. Hell…it might even be impossible. But that doesn’t mean we are off the hook on trying.

We can only give so much (we are human, and there are limits to our time and our mental health), but technology is a huge barrier for our low-income students. If we care about minimizing class barriers, part of that battle is providing them with practical skills that will let them do that. We don’t have to love technology, but we have to try and teach our students how to navigate it. We have to be able to point them to welcoming places and people who will understand the structural barriers our students have to face, even if we ourselves aren’t capable of offering help. If we have reached the limit of our technological know-how, the answer isn’t to throw up our hands and give up…it’s to reach out to the people who do love this stuff and get them to join in the conversation.

Technology is not a panacea. Access is not enough. But computers aren’t going anywhere, and digital fluency is crucial to gaining access to those privileged circles and networks and jobs that are closed off to many of our low-income citizens.

If you are an educator and you don’t like technology, that’s okay. You certainly aren’t alone. But you have a duty to examine what it is you don’t like about it and whether you are refusing to include it because tech really is detrimental to your students…or because you don’t want to step out of your comfort zone so you can address the class barriers they deal with every single day.