The Auto-Correct Generation

     In class, we read through a writing sample from a high school English student who was asked to take a stand on whether or not killing was ever justified.  The assignment was to include evidence from the novel Of Mice and Men, which he did not do, but he did include his own Internet research.  The problem is that the sheer accessibility of information available at his fingertips compelled him to list off facts and statistics as if they were common knowledge, not even bothering to give a single citation.  While this irresponsible use of online material was disturbing, I was even more perturbed by the low quality of his writing, which reminded me of another pitfall of our increasing reliance on technology. 

     Last year, one of my friends on Facebook posted the following article from BBC News: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-18158665.  The author cites a study conducted on 2,000 British adults in which the participants were asked to give the spelling of various words.  The results were discouraging: despite the nearly ubiquitous claim that proper spelling is important, two-thirds of the participants noted their reliance on spell-checking software, and without spell-check to aid them, most of them botched the spelling of common words like “necessary” and “definitely.”  Looking online, I now see that this study has been cited by other news agencies and has even been repeated by some, including a report from New York that showed similar abysmal results when Americans were tested instead: http://www.nydailynews.com/blogs/pageviews/2012/05/spell-checker-is-turning-us-into-dolts.

     Personally, I’m glad that spell-check exists.  If I ever doubted my spelling of a word in the past, I would seek out a dictionary and look the word up before continuing.  Now, I can attempt to spell the word on my own first and receive a notification if I’m incorrect.  I would actually argue that there is educational value in sounding out a word and attempting to construct a spelling for yourself rather than simply letting a dictionary do all the work for you.  Take the risk instead, and learn from your mistakes.

     I do, however, take issue with auto-correct.  It’s one thing to spell a word incorrectly and receive a list of suggested revisions; it’s quite another for the computer to correct the word on your behalf with no notification whatsoever.  This software allows people to type away in blissful ignorance of their own spelling mistakes, and when these mistakes are repeated over time, they eventually become habit.  The studies already show how much damage this has done to adults’ spelling, and these folks were raised using dictionaries.  If that’s the case, I shudder to think of how the world will look when today’s children come of age.  Twenty or thirty years from now, will the auto-correct generation be able to spell anything without electronic assistance?

Check Out Gooru!

     I recently had the opportunity to learn about a really fascinating online teaching tool called Gooru.  It’s sort of like a search-engine specifically designed to locate education materials appropriate for K-12 students, but the best part is that teachers can organize these materials into collections and share them with students via a class webpage.  Check out the site here: http://www.goorulearning.org/#!discover

     In constructing a how-to guide for my peers, I decided to focus on Gooru’s primary functions and explain the basics of using them.  Since the interface is so user-friendly (and since I wanted to keep the entire guide limited to two pages), I felt that I didn’t need to go into much detail.  In fact, the only button that I specifically pointed out via a screenshot was the “sign-up” button on the homepage for new users to get started.  Though not as explicitly done, I also drew attention to help button and the three main tabs at the top of the screen.  These tabs (discover, organize, teach) formed the basis for the remainder of the tutorial.  Each tab received its own section with a screenshot and a few bullet points describing the function, but I did not include any more explicit instruction on how to use them.

     Did I expect too much technological know-how from my readers?  Did I make unfair assumptions about their abilities?  My inclination is to say no.  I feel that if a teacher is willing to try to integrate a tool as innovative as Gooru into his or her learning, then he or she is probably already familiar with website usage to some extent.  In that case, I probably didn’t need to provide sign-up directions beyond “click the button and provide the requested information.”  Again, the interface is so intuitive that I felt it unnecessary to say something like “click ‘delete’ to remove a collection” when the button is so clearly labeled; instead, I included a bullet point simply mentioning that collections could be organized and deleted on that page.  This broader focus on function rather than tedious instruction seemed like the best approach, and if any of you visit the Gooru website, I think you may agree.

Your Posture

     In class, we had the opportunity to discuss the use of videos in the classroom.  And that’s when the subject came up: mental hygiene films.  Everybody knows the type: an old black-and-white video with corny acting and a didactic tone, where kids accept warm advice from a disembodied male narrator with a pleasant “Gee, willikers!”  While we may make fun of them now, what I didn’t realize was just how revolutionary these films were when they first came out in the late 1940’s.  Up until that point, on-screen acting was largely a realm for adults, with child actors appearing few and far between.  For the first time, however, these films gave kids center-stage and allowed them to connect with a school-age audience.  The producers specifically designed the films to be teacher-proof; that is, they figured that some lessons in life are too important to risk being spoiled by incompetent teachers, so they circumvented the issue altogether by providing teachers with a simple reel of film to show.

     The video that we watched, called “Shy Guy,” showed young people how to properly interact with others and form a basic social life at school.  The descriptors put forth by my classmates summed the film up nicely: dated, corny, conformist, earnest, condescending, and paternal.  The corniness was no surprise, but I was struck by the other qualities.  There was definitely a sense of slightly ill-delivered advice coming from superiors (the father in the video actually tells his son to act more like the popular kids if he wants to have friends), yet the lesson definitely seemed well-intended.  I was curious to see if this trend could be found in other mental hygiene films as well.

http://archive.org/details/HealthYo1953

     If you click the link above, you’ll be directed to another example that I found online.  Entitled “Health: Your Posture,” the entire point of the video is to encourage students to make a habit of standing and sitting up straight.  As expected, the quality and general tone of the film are laughable (though the special effect with the mirror was probably a big deal at the time).  Yet there are other common themes to be found.  For instance, the teacher and doctor fulfill the role of the earnest, paternalistic source of advice for their students, and they (as well as the narrator) speak condescendingly in the most caring way possible.  It would be interesting to look for this phenomenon in other videos as well.  Perhaps this relates to the culture of conformity and benevolent authoritarianism that prevailed during the immediate postwar era?

My Ideal Classroom Layout

 

 

Technology is all around us.  It permeates our lives in ways both obvious and obscure.  And even more importantly, it’s advancing at a rapid pace.  Given our familiarity with technology in our daily lives, as well as the immense benefits that it brings, why shouldn’t we harness it for the power of education in the classroom?  There are countless ways to integrate both old and new technologies into student learning, and I will be spending the next year exploring many possible avenues.  In the meantime, though, it doesn’t hurt to plan.  So on that note, how do I envision the physical layout of my ideal classroom?

            For starters, I would prefer to have the students’ desks arranged in two large blocks with an aisle in between them.  This would give me the space to traverse the classroom a bit while I lecture, rather than confining myself to a narrow strip of space in front of the board.  As for my own desk, it would be situated at the back of the classroom, out of the way of everything else.  Importantly, my desk would need easy access to a wall outlet so that I could plug in a computer, be it a desktop or a laptop.

            Speaking of electrical outlets, I can speak from personal experience as a student and say that they are invaluable for people who want to take notes on a laptop.  However, they always seem to be in short supply, which usually forces me to switch my laptop battery into a low-efficiency power-saver mode.  In other words, access to outlets can be a huge hassle, and I don’t want my students to suffer through ordeal.  This is why it is essential that my dream classroom include plenty of electrical outlets on the floor scattered amongst the students’ desks.  Of course, this rule only applies if the school allows students to use laptops in class.

            As for other technologies, I cannot forget to include various means to present information to the class during lectures.  First and foremost, I would require a tried-and-true overhead projector.  While they may seem archaic by some standards, I really appreciate the ability to write on transparencies and turn them into a sort of dynamic visual element during each lesson (drawing on maps is a prime example).  For those with more advanced tastes, an ELMO projector could serve a similar purpose, though I wouldn’t be able to reuse my paper visual aids as effectively as transparencies.  I would, however, be granted the benefit of color.  Perhaps a ceiling-mounted projector linked with my computer would give me the best of both worlds.  In fact, a truly ideal classroom would contain all three, giving me plenty of options for presenting my material.

 

            This is only a vision, and my reality could vary widely depending on the affluence and learning climate of the school in which I teach.  If there’s one thing I’ve gathered so far, it’s that flexibility is an important part of the teaching profession.  Should it come down to it, I’d be ready to teach with nothing but a blackboard and printed resources.  I’ll have to wait and see.