The school had a unique opportunity to not only help students evaluate the accuracy of online information (albeit important), but to also help them navigate a multitude of mediated ideologies, perspectives, and emotions that eventually became the foundation of the #BlackLivesMatter movement. As part of helping students navigate the emotions and information, they also could have helped students learn how to contribute their voices and perspectives in safe and valuable ways. During the time of this study history was being made, in large part as a result of the murder of an unarmed black teenager—something that influenced the teens at Freeway. They were seeking guidance—and the school provided spaces for dialog—but they did not help students navigate the plethora of information they were encountering online. There was a unique opportunity to help students not only decipher between accurate information and misinformation, but also to understand how social media contributes to larger conversations and activist movements. There was a missed opportunity to help student students view themselves as agents of change, to help them learn how they could actively participate in the dialog, and how to get involved in an emerging movement that resonated with their lives.11 In other words, an opportunity to expand critical digital literacy beyond consumption, to active online civic participation.
The purpose of this example is to illustrate the ways particular modes of literacy are inhibited by harm-driven expectations of control (and policies of panic), which in turn hinder students’ abilities to fully engage with digital media tools and resources in a participatory culture. As Watkins poignantly states (2012, p. 9), “one of the most urgent challenges regarding technology, diversity, and equity is the need to expand digital literacy; that is, the development of young people’s capacity not only to access and use digital media but to use digital media in ways that create more enhanced and more empowered expressions of learning, creative expression, and civic engagement.” I too see critical digital literacy as more than just access and skillsets, but as a way to close equity gaps and empower students to civically engage online and in their local spheres of influence. Critical digital literacy exceeds beyond the limits of critical consumption, but also enables, encourages, and empowers young people to actively participate in the creation of knowledge and information—to be part of their own mediated cultures and publics. In this way, I also echo Kellner’s (1998, pp. 103–104) conceptualization of critical pedagogy:
Media literacy involves teaching the skills that will empower citizens and students to become sensitive to the politics of representations … and the need to cultivate a wide range of types of critical literacies to deal with the exigencies of the cultural and technological revolution in which we are currently involved, ranging from computer literacy to multimedia literacy to new forms of cultural literacy. Such concerns are part of a critical pedagogy that summons educators, students, and citizens to rethink established curricula and teaching strategies to meet the challenge of empowering individuals to participate democratically in our increasingly multicultural and technological society.
The social-justice reaction to Trayvon Martin’s death provided an opportunity for the school to focus on the potential of social media to facilitate literacy development and student activism. Instead the example highlights the ways in which policies that block social media actually limited the role of teachers to empower students to participate in an increasingly mediated society.
Conclusion: Access Is a Right
It is problematic that students have received mixed messages regarding the school’s view of digital media: on the one hand they were told that mastering technology and online tools could provide a pathway to future success (see chapter 7), and on the other they were told they were not trustworthy enough to fully engage with digital media and online resources. Prensky (2008, p. 43) argues that schools are overly focused on teaching the past—and by extension, skills and literacies from the past—rather than on preparing students for future careers, intellect, and knowledge: “[If schools were future-oriented] students would be learning and practicing such future-oriented skills as collaborating around the world electronically and learning to work and create in distributed teams.” Such collaborative, global, and future-oriented skills are exactly what some of the technology teachers were trying to do (as will be discussed in chapter 7), but policies that restricted access often prohibited teachers from fully incorporating critical digital literacies into the classroom.
What is important here is to connect how historical fears and policies of panic mobilize harm-driven expectations that effectively limit the incorporation of critical digital literacy in the classroom. Policies that restricted access to online content—from objectionable material to social media—prevented students from practicing the kinds of critical literacies and skills they need as active citizens and will need in their future careers. Some students, but by no means all students at Freeway High were adept at working around access restrictions (see chapter 4). Students who broke the rules to bypass filters risked getting into trouble and students who did not or could not work around restrictions were barred from accessing potentially valuable content. It is also important to remember that restrictive policies do not affect all students equally, but students with limited online access outside of school were further marginalized as a result of blocked content. Students who relied on school as their primary point of access were barred from opportunities to develop and practice the essential skills they needed to participate as 21st-century learners. School ought to be an equalizer for students and provide access and opportunities not afforded in the home (thus alleviating families of the burden of providing equitable resources), yet restrictive policies have the potential to exacerbate (digital) inequities by denying economically disadvantaged students access to tools and resources they need.
This chapter has also demonstrated that controlling access to objectionable content is always a socially constructed and value-laden choice. Blocking access to sexually explicit content or controlling access to authoritative and verified information may have reduced some risks, but they also exacerbated other risks—such as missed opportunities to participate in the creation of collective knowledge and online activism. If we look for ways that the Internet can be harmful, we will find them. Yet policies of panic frame information as something that students must be protected from, rather than as part of a networked culture in which students can also actively participate. The construction of content as something students passively consume is archaic and out of date with the affordances of digital media and participatory culture. Rheingold (2013, p. 218) explains that “a participatory culture in which most of the population see themselves as creators as well as consumers of culture is far more likely to generate freedom and wealth for more people than one in which a small portion of the population produces culture that the majority passively consume.” It is important to remember that Wikipedia is not just for static information consumption, but is a way for students to contribute to and analyze the construction of knowledge. Twitter and social media are spaces for critical public activism, open dialog, and the privileging of amateur voices alongside expert opinions. Policies must expand beyond one-way understandings of information and instead embrace the participatory nature of knowledge and students’ contributions.
Finally, and equally important, harm-driven expectations that aim to avoid risk fail to help young people identify and manage risks on their own. Outside of the authoritarian school environment, many students have access to and come across potentially inappropriate content on a regular basis. Schools should equip students with the literacies necessary to intentionally and safely navigate risky online spaces. Mr. Lopez, a teacher whose views stood out in stark contrast to the official school policies explained: “I just think we need to have more balance [in our approach] so we can truly empower students to learn how to think. I think there’s so much information out there now because of the Internet, you really have to teach people how to think and how to utilize that informati
on to solve our world’s problems.” Schools must help build trust and dialog between students and adults so they will feel comfortable seeking guidance. We cannot create a risk-free environment—at school or elsewhere. Instead we must empower young people to understand how to manage the risks they will inevitably encounter. To do this we must stop conflating risk and harm. That students may encounter inappropriate content does not necessarily mean they will be harmed by it. We must acknowledge teens’ emerging sexualities and equip them to search for resources and information, rather than shame them for it. And we must validate students’ civic identities in ways that empower them to participate in online spaces not as passive recipients but as active citizens who can confidently navigate networked publics. Blocking access to valuable and educational content does not insulate students from the potential harms they may encounter online, but it could lead to greater inequities and missed opportunities. We must approach online content with expectations of opportunity, rather than fear and control. Equitable access is not just a goal, but a right.
Notes
1. 101 pregnancies per 1,000 girls, whereas the national rate is 84 (Bridges 2008).
2. 62 births per 1,000 girls ages 15–19, whereas the national rate is 41 (Bridges 2008).
3. This can result in what is known as the “echo chamber” effect. It is both intentional (we seek out information that supports our beliefs) and unintentional (search engines and social network sites use algorithms to learn our preferences and show us results that support our perceived beliefs). See Pariser 2011 for more information about the “filter bubble” and Sunstein 2009 for more information about “echo chambers.”
4. For more information on how information spreads (or “goes viral”) online, see Jenkins, Ford, and Green 2013 or Nahon and Hemsley 2013.
5. I deliberately omit his name here so as not to further link his name to this false accusation.
6. The analysis for this section relies on an analysis of district wide policies that were made available to me by Freeway’s principal and in interviews with teachers and students. CSD is a pseudonym.
7. The exception to this was the Tech Apps teacher, Mr. Lopez, whose students noted he often encouraged them to look information up online using resources, such as Google. Mr. Lopez’s courses and approach are discussed in greater detail in later chapters.
8. See appendix A for more detailed information about participants’ ethnic identities.
9. For other advanced search tips, see Widder 2014 and Rheingold 2012.
10. The Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act prohibits the collection of data for the purpose of advertisements for children under the age of 13, but does not protect older students, such as the participants in this study.
11. We did not speak with every student or teacher at Freeway High. It is possible that some classes were going online together to learn about and contribute to conversations about racial injustice. However, our conversations with students and teachers didn’t seem to indicate that that had been done.
4
Negotiating Control: Distractions, Stress, and Boredom
I would change the electronic rule at Freeway High, because it just limits the students to be free. They’re just sort of like a prison. … Like in prison, you’re locked in the room for a long time, and then they give you breaks sometimes and they feed you. School and prison both feed you. School and prison both keep you in a room for a certain amount of time. Then there’s times where they take you outside, so gym and the prison field would be a similar thing. It’s just a way students compare the two. They compare school to a prison because they just lock you down and take away certain rights.
Sergio (18 years old, Mexican-American)
Walk through the halls of Freeway High on a typical school day and you will quickly notice mixed messages regarding media and technology. Friends meet up at their lockers in between classes to pass off an iPod Touch. Students walk by wearing hoodies to conceal earbuds. Girls gather around a phone to laugh at a friend’s video before heading off to their next class. Teens shoot off quick text messages to their parents to coordinate after school plans. And adult administrators stroll down the hall wrapping up a conversation on their mobile phones. Enter one of the two well-equipped computer labs and you will find students listening to music, watching videos, editing photos, reading news, writing papers, updating their Facebook profiles and checking their grades.
All of this is taking place amid multiple signs declaring the school a “No Personal Electronic Device (PED) zone.” Like many other high schools in the United States, Freeway has a “can’t be seen or heard” policy regarding personal technology. There are signs posted in the front office, in classrooms, and in the hallways to remind students not to use their mobile devices at school. Yet when one speaks with students and teachers it is immediately clear that the rules are ambiguous and negotiable. Ask just about any student about the technology policy, and you’re likely to hear a long-winded, frustrated rant about the rules. Or perhaps you’ll pick up on a general sense of exhaustion, as students are tired of the daily negotiations related to their use of technology. As you can also imagine, many teachers share the same frustrations and tire of the constant battles about phones, MP3 players, and tablets.
Through an analysis of legal literature, as well as personal experiences in schools across the US, Cramer and Hayes (2010, p. 43) have found that schools’ acceptable use policies for mobile devices “are often more ‘unacceptable-use’ policies, which focus on how students shouldn’t use mobile phones and the consequences for breaking the rules.” In other words, rather than incorporating mobile technologies into learning environments and teaching students how to responsibly use mobile devices, school policies focus on banning and limiting students’ and teachers’ use of personal electronics in the classroom. The Video Game Production teacher at Freeway, Mr. Warren, expressed frustration with the restrictive policy: “We say no to the iPad, then we see the admin coming into the room with their iPads and telling the students, ‘No iPads.’ You can’t say no to the future tool of learning that is shared by other students. So, I’d rather have a policy that is about ‘Here’s how we teach responsible usage.’”
Mr. Warren’s remarks iterate the need to shift focus away from “unacceptable use” policies to a policy of “acceptable use.” Further, as Mr. Warren also alludes, research consistently demonstrates that teens increasingly use mobile media outside of school, thus media ought to be incorporated as a tool of learning. Cramer and Hayes (2010, p. 43) contend that “the next step toward truly connected youth is bridging the gap between in-school and out-of-school technology use, both in policy and practice.” As will be demonstrated, “unacceptable use”—or rather harm-driven expectations—describes the practices and policies regulating mobile devices at Freeway High.
The ambiguity around technology led to frustrations from students, but on a deeper level it reflected a more general uncertainty about the school’s overall value of technology for learning. For example, Sergio noted that the school “is really anti-technology, but then it supports the technology program that it has, so it’s just anti-technology toward the students using it in the hallways and in class, unless the classroom involves that.” His statement acknowledges the abstruseness of the school’s relationship with technology and the growing disparity between how students prefer to learn and how schools perceive learning. He goes on to say “I would change the electronic rule [at school] because it just limits the students to be free.” By and large, all of the participants stated that they were frustrated by the restrictive rules. The general attitude was that they felt the school should allow students more freedom and responsibility with technology because it would help maintain their interest and aid in school work. These attitudes also reflect contemporary research that demonstrates the ways mobile media can enhance learning (Ito et al. 2010; Katz 2006; Kolb 2008).
Students and teachers were also frustrated by the fluid and negotiable
nature of the rules. When asked if there was a punishment for bypassing filters or using a phone, many students alluded to the fact that the rules were flexible; they were dependent upon students’ relationships with their teachers. Gabriela (16 years old, Mexican-American) explained what happened when teachers noticed students bypassing filters: “It depends on what teacher that you have. If you’re a student and you do your work, some teachers just don’t care. Because they know that you’re going to get your work done anyway. It really depends.” The fluidity and subjectivity of the rules led to exasperations from students who did not get away with breaking the rules. Selena (17 years old, Mexican-American) explained: “I used to get in fights and stuff, so, like, the teachers, they just have it out for me. Too many. They just expect me to be bad, right? So, like, if a girl they like, she break the rules, they just be, like, whatever. But me, they kick me off the computer or outta class, ’cause, like, they think I must be doin’ something bad. I’m not. I’m like them, I’m just looking things up for school and stuff.” Anna (18 years old, Mexican-American) reiterated Selena’s point when she explained: “You know, for the most part, teachers don’t really mind, especially if you’re, like, not a troublemaker. If you’re a good student, then they’re not going to bother you about it.” Anna’s and Selena’s explanations highlight the extent to which the rules are mediated by students’ behaviors. Rather than being a transparent policy that would give all students opportunities to earn particular privileges, participants agreed that each teacher had different rules for different students. The rules were opaque and subjective, and even the “good” students agreed that the inconsistent enforcement was unfair. Students expect transparency and objective policies that provide all students with opportunities to earn privileges, rather than rules that are murky, negotiable, and subjective. Without equal opportunities to earn technology privileges, it is not surprising that students responded to restrictive rules by covertly breaking them or by learning how to negotiate rules with particular teachers.
Worried About the Wrong Things Page 17