Students noted that teachers did not necessarily discourage the use of search engines, but few recalled teachers actively encouraging online searches for information related to homework and school projects.7 Notably absent from the CSD’s Technology Planning policies was any mention of the value of incorporating online resources into students’ information-seeking practices. The primary focus was on the school-approved databases as the privileged sites of information seeking. The education professor Jessica K. Parker points out that discussions of online sources and school resources should not be presented as either-or questions; rather, “teachers should concern themselves with the quality of sources. … We can now be critical of all sources and determine which sources will help us find answers to a specific inquiry” (2010, p. 76). Additionally, the hyperlinked structure of the Internet connects information within a broader context that can lead to unintentional yet beneficial discoveries that static resources cannot provide.
Students at Freeway were asked how they determined if search results were accurate. Some said that they compared answers between sites— in other words, if the same answer appeared elsewhere, they assumed it was accurate and reliable, a strategy journalists refer to as “triangulating.” This was not necessarily a bad strategy; however, few participants said they paid much or any attention to the source, URL, author, date, or publication type (e.g., they did not distinguish between user forums such as Yahoo message boards and actual published articles). The web also validates and provides access to amateur voices alongside professional and learning how to interpret these distinct perspectives is an important skill students need to learn within a participatory media culture. Jasmine (16 years old; multiracial8) said “You can just tell if a site looks right or not.” Javier (18 years old, Mexican immigrant) agreed: “You have to use common sense [when determining if a source is accurate].” These are not misinformed strategies—common sense and triangulating information can be effective approaches to validating information online (what Rheingold refers to as “crap detection”). However, there were missed opportunities for developing deeper critical digital media literacy that extend beyond deciphering validity and accuracy.
Google has become easier and easier to use, and search results are increasingly more reliable, but discerning valuable information is not an innate skill. Contrary to the “digital native” discourse, which presumes that young people naturally know how to use digital media tools, research indicates that young people often lack critical thinking and literacy skills necessary to mindfully navigate the web (Oblinger and Oblinger 2005); instead such skills must be intentionally and actively honed through experience and teaching (Ito et al. 2010; Lange 2014; Rheingold 2012). For example, while discussing Google with student participants, few acknowledged that they utilized advanced search features, such as placing phrases in quotation marks or using a dash to filter out results they did not want.9 Most recognized and acknowledged that not everything online was valid and accurate, but they struggled to articulate their own strategies for finding, evaluating, and deciphering information. Critical digital literacy is where formal education can intervene, because teachers have a valuable opportunity to guide learning and foster critical digital literacy in meaningful ways.
Wikipedia: Analyzing Knowledge Production
Wikipedia is a free collaborative user-generated online database that virtually anyone can have access to and contribute to. Its name derives from the Hawaiian word “wiki” (which means “quick’) and the Greek suffix “pedia” (which is related to learning, as in “encyclopedia”). Wikipedia’s very name implicates its value as a source for quick learning. The entries are created and edited by users all around the world. Wikipedia’s collaborative nature makes it a contentious site of debate in the classroom, and understandably educators are concerned that students may over-rely on it as a source of information without questioning the implications of how the knowledge was produced. Wikipedia provides opportunities to explore the construction of knowledge in ways that traditional sources do not. Parker argues (2010, p. 68) that this is precisely the educational value of Wikipedia: “not only does it bring to our attention the construction of media … but also our ability to change it.” At Freeway, though, Wikipedia was rarely incorporated into the classroom in pedagogically beneficial ways.
Most students at Freeway used Wikipedia for looking up personal interests, but few admitted to using it for school work. This can partially be attributed to the fact that several participants noted that teachers outright discouraged the use of Wikipedia for school. Only a few participants reported engaging with Wikipedia in more advanced ways, such as clicking on embedded links, checking cited sources, or viewing the editing history. The “History” and “Discussion” tabs on each Wikipedia entry provide students with access to how and why information is generated on the entry’s main page. Unlike other online sources or school databases, Wikipedia allows students access to the “backstage” production of knowledge. According to boyd (2007b), “The key value of Wikipedia is its transparency. You can understand how a page is constructed, who is invested, what their other investments are. You can see when people disagree about content and how, in the discussion, the disagreement was resolved.” Parker (2010) suggests that teachers can lead classroom exercises that help students explore the discussion and history tabs on Wikipedia entries in order to discuss and analyze the construction of knowledge. Discussing the construction of information leads to deeper understandings about power and representation, which are key facets of critical digital literacy. Largely absent from any of the interviews I conducted with teachers or students was a focus on encouraging students to contribute to Wikipedia. The value of the participatory web lies in students’ ability to not only consume information, but to also contribute to knowledge production. Diving deeper into the back pages of Wikipedia also provides an opportunity for students to correct or add their own knowledge to a topic or debate.
There were some students at Freeway High—among them Sergio (18 years old, Mexican-American)—who viewed Wikipedia as a resource rather than an authoritative text. Sergio explained: “Sometimes people say don’t use Wikipedia because it’s not always accurate, but I’m not using it for accuracy. I’m using it more as a guide to compare one thing to another to see if they’re the same—similar—and that way I’ll understand. Wikipedia’s more like enlightenment, a little part of the subject, but then I’ll do more research.” Sergio constructed a learning ecology that tapped into the benefits of Wikipedia and simultaneously acknowledged its limitations. Other students avoided Wikipedia altogether (at least for formal educational purposes) because they were concerned it might not provide accurate information. Here we see evidence of harm-driven expectations actively shaping and limiting students’ learning ecologies, instead of helping them navigate the site with confidence and critical awareness.
Avoiding Wikipedia simply because it might be wrong reflects Fabos’ (2004) argument that digital media require us to approach texts beyond a framework of “accurate” and “inaccurate,” but that we must aim to understand the broader context in which the information is embedded and accessed. Critical digital literacy involves considering what purposes a text serves, as well as the ability to interpret its mode of production. Sergio’s use of Wikipedia as a starting point for further research demonstrated his ability to critically engage with Wikipedia in a productive way. But by not incorporating Wikipedia into the classroom, teachers missed a valuable opportunity to dissect and analyze various modes of knowledge production, collaboration, and collective intelligence. Wikipedia is a space that invites ontological questions: How do we know what we know? How do we prove it? Whose voices are validated and allowed in different discourses of knowledge production? But rather than using Wikipedia as a site for critical digital media lessons, teachers frequently reified harm-driven expectations and dismissed it as unreliable, and therefore as inherently lacking value. Of course, Wikipedia does include some misinformation—but
this is all the more reason why students ought to learn strategies and skills for finding and interpreting information online.
Wikipedia is only one example of the ways in which literacy needs to move beyond questions of reliability to also include questions of power, production, and ideology. Such skills should not only be taught in artificial simulations—that is, through pre-fabricated lesson plans—but should also be incorporated into real-time classroom situations that inevitably arise as students seek out information in formal learning environments. Of course these modes of learning would be more easily facilitated if students were encouraged to use their own mobile devices during class (see chapter 4) and if online searches were not strictly limited by CIPA filters. Many teachers encouraged students to rely on resources officially approved by the school district, rather than working with them to teach real-world critical digital literacy that bridges formal and informal modes of learning.
The Commercialized Web: Analyzing Motivations
To bring literacy discussions into conversation with discourses of risk, it is important to consider not only what material was blocked by school filters but also what content was not blocked by filters. Julie Frechette encourages us to think about cyber-safety and critical digital literacy within a broader context of critical media education. She argues that cyber-safety discourses exploit vulnerable parents and educators:
The discourse of cyber-safety and cyber-censorship manufactures consent through a hegemonic force that overlooks the invasion of online advertising or marketing strategies targeted at children. … I contend that the mainstream articulation of cyber-paranoia attempts to reach the consent of parents and educators by asking them to see some internet content as value-laden (i.e. nudity, sexuality, trigger words, or adult content) while disguising the interests and authority of profitable commercial and computer industries (in the form of advertising, marketing, tracking, and filters). (2006, pp. 149–150)
If we were to truly block out all potentially harmful information, then filters would also block advertisements aimed at exploiting teens’ insecurities (e.g., diet ads, beauty products, etc.), such advertisements are intent on capitalizing on students’ insecurities. The classroom should be a space that is free from the exploitation of teens’ online practices and potentially low self-esteem. Additionally, if we were to truly try to protect against harm then filters would prohibit websites from collecting data about students; data that is sold and traded as a way to profit from students’ online activities at school.10 Harm-driven expectations position some content—namely sexual content or misinformation—as inherently risky, but distracts us from considering the motivations of commercial software, databases, and advertising that are also potentially harmful to youth. This kind of information is not blocked via commercially profitable filters. It is technologically possible for filters to block online advertising and data collection, but both practices are presented as value-neutral or as unavoidable aspects of the web. Failure to block advertisements and data tracking highlights the importance of questioning how risks are socially constructed and emphasizes the power of harm-driven expectations to neutralize or sublimate other problems.
One way teachers could incorporate questions of power into critical digital literacy lesson plans is to have students look up the same information on Google and then compare it to the school’s library resources and discuss what the differences are—and, importantly, why information is different. This could involve not only discussing information accuracy and the value of amateur perspectives, but would also consider elements of design, ownership, motivations, advertisements, and the values or connotations therein. Additionally, all students could look up the same information online using the same search engine; due to personalized algorithms students would inevitably get different search results. Comparing students’ differing search results and advertisements is an opportunity to discuss echo chambers, personal biases, and to make visible the power of algorithms to influence access to information. Understandably teachers, librarians, and students were often critical of CIPA filters that blocked access to valuable and educational content (which I also argue limits critical media literacies), but Frechette’s point cannot be understated: filters are not only significant because of what they block, but also because of what they present as innocuous (e.g., commercial interests). So long as filters are left to third-party or profit-making companies “then educators, librarians, and parents need to ensure that they serve the public interests, rather than private commercial interest” (Frechette 2006, p. 170). I would add that, so long as filters are produced by profit-making companies, schools should strive to play an active role in empowering students to understand the full context and motivations of the information they encounter online. Schools have a responsibility to equip students to challenge hegemonic ideologies that overlook the proliferation of consumer culture online and in schools. Risk discourses and policies that focus on predators, pornography, and inappropriate (sexual) content serve to silence other value-laden concerns such as advertising, data collection personalized search results, and exploitation. By failing to acknowledge and validate students’ preferred information-seeking behaviors, such as Google and YouTube, schools miss out on important everyday opportunities to incorporate critical digital literacy skills into the classroom.
Crisis News and Activism: Navigating an “Always On” Participatory Culture
Another way schools could actively help students develop critical digital literacy would be for teachers and students to consume and evaluate news information together in real time. During the time of the study, Trayvon Martin—an unarmed black teenager in Florida—was shot and killed by a neighborhood watchman named George Zimmerman. This story made headlines across the nation and particularly resonated with some of the students at Freeway High, a significant portion of whose students were black. Some students were upset or scared in the wake of the incident, and their anger and frustration were exacerbated when Zimmerman was not arrested or charged with a crime. The lack of justice propelled Martin’s killing to national news as (black) activists across the country called for justice. Once the story was in the national spotlight, media outlets insinuated and perpetuated the idea that Trayvon looked suspicious because he was wearing a dark hoodie (Graeff, Stempeck, and Zuckerman 2014). Schools and protesters across the nation appropriated the hoodie as a sign of solidarity for Trayvon and as a call for justice (Weeks 2012). Along with other schools across the nation, students at Freeway High staged a “hoodie day” in memory of Trayvon Martin. For several weeks, some students at Freeway discussed the developing details of the incident and the lack of justice. When they were asked where they received information about the situation, the most frequent answers referred to some combination of parents, peers, and social media.
Some students reported discussing the situation in class; however, none of them reported using the Internet or social media in class to seek out more information about the case or protests. Cassandra (18 years old, biracial) explained: “[Martin’s death] was big at school. Like, we had a hoodie day at our school for him. Like, we talk about it in our classes. And a lot of the kids are getting involved in the conversation, ’cause I guess, I mean, everybody knows about it.” After Zimmerman was not initially arrested, Martin’s family created a Change.org petition to urge law enforcement to seek justice for Trayvon; the petition became the fastest-growing campaign in the site’s history (Ehrlich 2013). Many of the students at Freeway, along with most of the nation, learned about Martin’s initially silenced murder via social media. (His death gained national attention after Martin’s family and attorneys created the petition and tried to fight for justice. See Graeff, Stempeck, and Zuckerman 2014.) Beyond the details of the murder, Martin’s death sparked a broader conversation about racial tensions, injustices, and biases in US culture and news. Rather than merely learning where and how to access accurate information, students were turning to social media to make sense of what was happening on a larg
er cultural scale of racial politics in the United States. Cassandra recounted a conversation from one of her classes:
Somebody would say, like, “If that was black man that shot a black man, it wouldn’t be on the news.” If it was a white man who shot a white man, it wouldn’t be on the news. But it was a white man who shot a black kid, so that’s why it’s so big and a topic and stuff. … Like, I can see what they mean when it’s a different situation to the news than a white man shooting a white man or a black man shooting a black man. ’Cause black people are stereotyped as gangsters and, like, ghetto. And he had his hood on and it was the nighttime. … There’s still people that are racists, and there’s still people that might not be racists but, like, they stereotype races, which is still kind of racist because not all races are that stereotype that people think they are or whatever.
Cassandra struggled to articulate her thoughts about the incident as she attempted to understand how media perpetuate particular racial stereotypes. She rightfully points out that traditional print and television news have a long history of propagating stereotypes and promoting racial biases (Dixon and Maddox 2005; Mastro 2009; Oliver 2003; Peffley, Shields, and Williams 1996). These biases and prejudices are further complicated on participatory platforms such as Twitter, where everyday citizens can voice opinions and provide context alongside journalists, politicians, celebrities, and activists. Social media, and specifically Twitter, became a popular space for people to articulate and express the injustices and biases of Trayvon’s murder (Jurkowitz and Vogt 2013). Some have gone so far as to argue that Trayvon’s death sparked a new generation of (black) activism (Smith 2014), which has largely used social media such as Twitter and Tumblr as a way to organize and share their views.
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