Ultimately I have argued for a shift in the way we approach technology, and in what we expect of young people, of media, of schools, and of policies. Rather than aiming to control technology or young people, and rather than expecting harm (and therefore aiming to protect), what if we were to expect opportunity? What if we were to approach policies and practices and systems from the perspective of how risky opportunities can benefit young people individually and society collectively? How can digital media alleviate burdens that create barriers for the most vulnerable in society? How can adults, schools, and laws not only protect young people, but also empower them to become citizens who participate in the creation of their own mediated cultures, opportunities, and networked publics? That is, what if we were to approach technology from expectations of opportunity, rather than harm? Rather than the model of disconnections that was presented in the introduction (figure I.2), I’m proposing a model of connections, as illustrated in figure 8.1.
Figure 8.1 Connections that contribute to opportunity-driven expectations.
Here we move away from a focus on media panics, and instead we focus on a relationship between lived experiences and mediated representations of youth. If young people are more accurately, holistically, and inclusively represented, heard, and validated in media, then their stories and experiences can positively influence policy and design. Not only can laws protect young people, they can empower young people and the adult institutions that serve them to play active roles in the development and influence of technology in young people’s lives. Thus, the second aspect is a mutual and symbiotic relationship between young people’s digital media practices and those of educational institutions. With opportunity-driven expectations, both young people and educational institutions recognize the expertise and experiences of the other and would work together to create curriculum, policies platforms, and opportunities that would protect and validate young people’s values. Finally, if we stop focusing so much on technology as a source of concern, and instead focus on young people’s lived experiences with technology, we may privilege young people as agentive, rather than as passive victims who are harmed by technology. This shift also facilitates opportunities for young people and adults to work and learn and play and explore the digital world together.
Although participation gaps are closing as more young people are afforded opportunities to develop critical digital literacies, we know that young people’s media ecologies—and therefore their participation in networked publics—remain unequal. I addressed some of the explanations and barriers that inhibit marginalized young people from fully participating, networking, and visibly sharing online in chapter 5. Participatory cultures afford new opportunities for young people to play active roles in their own ecologies, and that includes opportunities to co-create and co-design spaces that serve their unique needs. While I am critical of platforms that exploit and capitalize on young people’s practices, I am cautiously optimistic of hybrid models that profit in ways that respect young people’s preferences, expectations, and practices. But that can happen only if young people are equipped with the tools to create their own spaces and are empowered to view themselves as citizens and agents of change, rather than mere consumers or as vulnerable and passive victims.
When marginalized young people are empowered and trusted not only to create media but also to network, collaborate, deliberate, and organize within networked publics, the benefits are simultaneously individualized and collective. The opportunities require an approach to literacies that expands our constructions of young people beyond that of consumers to embrace understandings of young people as citizens. It must identify and acknowledge that all learning and media ecologies are not created equal, and that the experiences of marginalized young people demand attention and representation alongside their better-connected peers. Only when their stories are incorporated and validated can we begin to write policies that enhance equity and opportunity for all. This requires us to listen to, learn from, and value the perspectives of youth, to see their practices through a lens of survival, ingenuity, and creativity. Adults and institutions must value their expertise and unique generational practices rather than merely criticize or dismiss practices that we do not initially understand. Not until adults learn and respect the ways marginalized young people value media in their lives, the ways they make meaning out of their practices, and the ways they manage and negotiate risk and opportunity will adult institutions be able to implement policies and practices that truly serve their needs. This, of course, means relinquishing control and allowing young people to have opportunities to co-create spaces alongside and within educational institutions, policies, and law.
What Should We Be Worried About?
I am worried about the current generation of young people not merely as individuals, but as a collective population who are disadvantaged by current structural, material, and systematic inequalities. I am worried that fear is a driving force that aims to protect the privileged at the expense of the vulnerable. I am worried that we are creating systems that benefit some and disadvantage others. I fear that adult-controlled platforms undermine young people’s practices in the name of profit. And I am alarmed that when we aim to control young people, we miss out on opportunities to instead guide teens as co-creators and fellow citizens. I know that we have work to do to bridge the gaps between young people’s expectations and the realities of navigating current opportunities and future pathways.
In sum, I have tried to demonstrate that ultimately what we should be worried about are inequities related to regulation, access, control, participation, visibility, and opportunity. Although these concerns are interrelated and overlap, each has been given attention in its respective chapter. First, regulations (addressed in chapter 2) play a fundamental role in shaping practices. While I am critical of many of the policies that have attempted to regulate young people’s online practices, I am not suggesting that all policies that regulate and protect minors are inherently negative. Instead, I am arguing for a more nuanced evidence-based approach that moves beyond sensational fear-based stories and panics about individualized risk. Policies must be written and enacted in such a way that they take into consideration the collective nature and responsibility of risk in networked media, and in such a way that they not only reflect the concerns of the market or the most privileged but also rely on research that investigates the unintended consequences that policies have for marginalized and disadvantaged populations. Such an approach brings me to my next two concerns: access and control.
Concerns about access (as addressed in chapter 3) are often couched in conversations about digital divides—that is, about who does and who doesn’t have access to high-quality technology. Those concerns are valid, and although the gaps have been largely eradicated we know we still have work to do. However, I am concerned not only about access to technology (that is, hardware and software), but also about access to content—that is, about policies and rules that limit teens’ access to online discursive spaces, learning ecologies, communities, and networked publics. I believe that we do young people a grave disservice when we make decisions about what is and is not valuable and educational on the basis of limited adult-centric understandings and values. I have tried to demonstrate that we should not block all potentially objectionable content at the expense of access to beneficial content. We must equip teens—and the adults in their lives—with tools and literacies for safely navigating potentially risky content.
Both regulation and access can be summed up as battles for control (as addressed in chapter 4). Certainly adults and adult institutions have a responsibility to protect young people. However, as has been demonstrated throughout this book, negotiations of control can operate alongside—rather than in opposition to—discourses of trust and responsibility. Without doubt many parents negotiate a balance between control and trust, and between constraint and responsibility with their children. In the same ways, schools must find ways to allow students opportunities
to earn trust, responsibilities, and privileges so as to not only minimize harm but also maximize benefits. The argument then comes full circle to the role of policies that can empower institutions and equip schools, rather than exert control.
Further, as was addressed in part II of the book, I am concerned about unequal modes of participation, about structures that inhibit pathways to success, and about commercial platforms that fail to take into account young people’s preferences and strategies for maintaining visibility and privacy. We have an obligation to marginalized young people to identify barriers that inhibit their capacity for developing the network, social, and digital literacies necessary for visibly participating in networked publics (as addressed in chapter 5). Schools must work alongside institutions, policies, and the industry to understand how to create more equitable pathways for opportunity, success, and upward mobility (addressed in chapter 7). And we have an obligation not only to help young people navigate unintentional and intentional visibility in networked publics, but to also listen to and validate their own preferences and practices, rather than dismiss or exploit them (examined in chapter 6). While it is heuristically beneficial to address each of these concerns individually, and to address the discourses of risk separate from opportunity-driven expectations, I have aimed to demonstrate the integral and symbiotic relationship between discourses of risk—that is, harm-driven expectations—and the lived experiences of youth. Only when we transfer our expectations from harm to opportunity—and expand our concern beyond the most privileged—can we begin to create just policies and equitable opportunities.
Looking Ahead
The risk industry is pervasive and it shapes expectations, but it can change. It is my hope that opportunity-driven expectations of both youth and technology will be driven by a deliberate dedication to creating a more just digital and material world for young people. Imagine if all the time, energy, and money spent passing restrictive policies were instead invested in creating platforms that enabled young people and educators to manage and navigate risks via other modes of regulation. Instead of primarily investing research funds in identifying the harms of digital media, we must invest more funds in understanding how platforms, education, curriculum, and opportunities can help young people explore, learn, cultivate, and invest in meaningful participation and the acquisition of greater social and cultural capital. Policy makers and educators must work together to develop policies and curriculum that enable, educate, and empower teachers to incorporate technology in innovative ways. Schools and parents need to help young people develop mutually beneficial social norms—norms of respect, of boundary setting, of healthy habits, of self-efficacy, and of critical awareness. These norms simultaneously reduce risk and enhance opportunities for civic engagement and beneficial online participation. Imagine what we could accomplish by working together—as researchers, policy makers, educators, and young people—to bridge divides between education and the industry in a way that helped create new pathways for young people to succeed. This takes work. It takes money. It takes a dedication to protect and empower those on the margins of society. But it benefits us all when we recognize that managing risk is not an individual responsibility, but a mutually beneficial collective goal and obligation.
Much of the research discussed in this book is critical of current systems, but I hope it is also encouraging. I believe that we can do better, and that we owe it to the next generation to do better, and I fully expect that we can create more equitable opportunities for young people. I was constantly impressed and inspired by the resourcefulness, imagination, and cleverness of the young people I got to know during this project. I want to be explicitly clear that their shortcomings were attributable to structures and systems that inhibited them from achieving their goals. When we as a society work together to create policies and practices that respect and value the experiences of young people—all young people—and embrace technology for the better, I expect we will begin to create more equitable opportunities and pathways for all young people. But this must be a deliberate and intentional goal—one that values democracy, justice, and equity above the myth of meritocracy, profit, and control.
Memories of many of the young people I met at Freeway High will stay with me for many years to come. I was struck by their passion, their creativity, and their talent, as well as by the ways in which they were able to exhibit these with and through digital media. I will remember Gabriela’s beautiful images of downtown and Javier’s short film that used a mime to reflect upon identity. I’ll remember Selena playing her keyboard for me so I could hear the Evanescence songs she had taught herself. However, I will also remember my disappointment when Sergio told me he wasn’t applying to college. I’ll remember Jasmine telling me she only wanted to try for her associate’s degree because she did not think getting a bachelor’s degree would be possible for her. While I want to be cautious not to overly insert my own middle-class, highly educated, and white privileged values into my interpretations of their choices, I could not help but feel a bit of disappointment. Here were two talented, dedicated, passionate, and driven students who still did not think a four-year degree was attainable. But more so, they were ill-equipped to navigate career paths without the social benefits of a university degree. This speaks to institutional and systemic problems that are much more complex than the role of digital media in these teens’ lives. Yet I cannot help but wonder how schools might better leverage the potential of digital media to create more equitable futures.
A truly networked classroom would embrace the opportunities and wealth of information afforded by digital media. With digital media, students have the power to take an active role in helping to create and mold learning environments. In other words, education can move beyond traditional models that rely on teacher-to-student transmission of knowledge. With the right tools and support, schools can instead equip and empower students to contribute to knowledge formation and discovery. Douglas Thomas and John Seely Brown (2011, p. 52) refer to this as a collective learning environment. They define collectives as “a collection of people, skills, and talent that produces a result greater than the sum of its parts. … Collectives are not solely defined by shared intention, action, or purpose (though these elements may exist and often do). Rather, they are defined by an active engagement with the process of learning.” Digital media provide students and teachers access to collectives of limitless knowledge that are not bound by physical or geographical constraints. Digital literacy education moves beyond merely teaching students how to use tools, but rather allows students to contribute to the learning processes. Networked classrooms could and should empower students to harness the wealth of information available to them via the Internet and mobile devices.
During my time at Freeway High, I met students who had created impressive online portfolios of their work and accomplishments, students who had created their own YouTube channels, and students who were harnessing the potential of digital media to create online professional identities. Yet, for the most part, these were more middle-class and college-bound students. They had the social and cultural capital outside of school to appreciate the significance of their online endeavors in a different context. What role should schools play in all of this? Beyond helping students create online portfolios or manage positive digital footprints, how else might schools create networked classrooms that integrate digital literacies into broader conceptualizations of citizenship? “If the potential of connection is to outweigh the appeal of disconnection in the future,” Livingstone and Sefton-Green (2016, pp. 252–253) argue, “we must directly address the risk-averse fears and self-protective practices that stand in the way of rethinking society in the digital age.”
For the teens in this book, career pathways were presented in a dichotomous manner (college pathways or vocational tracks) that erased the role society played in creating and limiting those options; there were significant disconnections between students’ expectations and choices and the opportunities an
d realities of the labor market. In many ways, spaces such as the after-school clubs helped students legitimize their interests and practices in personally validating ways that valued self-expression and media production outside of the marketplace. However, at the same time, the practices and spaces were presented as pathways to career and economic opportunities that created the illusion of choices that were not readily accessible to marginalized students. As a society, we need to rethink the role of higher education as the preferred pathway to economic security, especially in light of rising tuition costs and the burden of student debt. Schools need to be acutely aware of the ways well-intentioned vocational tracks create expectations of opportunities that can actually exacerbate and reproduce the very inequalities they aim to alleviate. The connected learning model is a step in the right direction; it moves away from fear-based discourses that construe young people as passive and technology as a threat. But we need to carefully consider and continue to research how schools can connect young people to pathways for economic, social, and civic opportunities.
Worried About the Wrong Things Page 38