Technology and Understanding: The Blog as the Key to Knowledge

I am drowning in a sea of education theory. Normally I’m a solid swimmer. Hell, I was the captain of my college swim team. But these last four weeks have been a monsoon of educational theory; it’s been raining constructivism, I’m choking on the salty waves of substantive conversation, a monster named Pygmalion is pulling me to the bottom of the ocean, and apparently, it’s all going to be recorded for my own good.

However, as I cling to the life-preserver that is the self reminded reassurance that the worst that can happen is complete failure and a move south to be a professional lifeguard, I’m beginning to put some things together. Or at least I think I am. Either way, it’s going on this page.

Basically, in my mind, (which tends to take an axe and chop things down to the simplest possible notion,) I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re trying to teach knowledge and understanding. It’s not what the book says, but rather the methods with which we utilize texts for further understanding and the creation of knowledge. If this is true though, if understanding what knowledge is and how it’s formed and created is the goal of education, perhaps there is a better way to do it. Perhaps understanding the blog is the key to wisdom.

Here’s how my mind justifies that bold statement: Technology dictates communication. Communication creates the culture. Culture defines the knowledge. Therefore, is it fair to deduce that the best way to help students understand the nature of knowledge in today’s world is to ensure that they have a strong basis in and understanding of technology?

Hmmm… maybe we should try to apply my layman pop-theory. To be a good citizen in a democracy a person should vote. A good voter is educated in the matters of the day. To be educated in the matters of the day, one must understand the culture in its broadest sense – what’s going on in the country. To understand the dilly yo, (beyond the personal sphere,) one must communicate with others. To communicate with others, in the personal or broad sense, we rely on communications technology. However, to best understand communication technology, one must understand all of its facets. Communications technology is much more complex than most take it for; from framing, to corporate ownership, to the impossibilities of objectivity, there is much to be considered. Thus, to best set up a student to understand the nature of knowledge, wouldn’t a firm grounding in technology be essential? I think so.

The bottom line is that communication, (which is driven by technological advancement,) dictates much of the knowledge of the day. When the telegram first became popular, it changed the very nature of the English language. Sentences had to become shorter and more meaningful, concise wording became the most valued form of language. How will the Internet change language? How has it already? To ground students in an understanding in technology is to hopefully set them up with the best ability to understand the nature of knowledge in today’s world.

"When you discard arrogance, complexity, and a few other things that get in the way, sooner or later you will discover that simple, childlike, and mysterious secret known to those of the Uncarved Block: Life is Fun."




Next Week: Technology, Taxonomy, and Epistemology

Technology and Idealism in Education

I think, or perhaps choose to believe, that there is an innate and essential element found in the make-up of all English teachers. This quality may not endure after years dealing with school politics and changing curriculums, student apathy and state mandates, poor pay and deficient funding. But there is a point, when these men and women first read a great book, felt again when they first step into the classroom, at which this vital flame slowly begins to glow warm. For some it is but a fleeting emotion, for others it is the fuel that drives them through the day. These teachers will be guarded at times, joking of the summers off, the good hours, the job options, and the ideals of this unquestionably noble profession. But there is unspoken passion. Perhaps it is too naive, possibly delirious in its own romance, but this little fire give a slight warmth to even the coldest days; it is simple notion of what can be, it is the unquestionable belief that with books we can change the world.

These teachers see teenagers full of angst, full of self-doubt, confused in self-identity, scared that the center simply does not hold. How these teachers would so like to explain to their students, soon to set foot into this sometimes harsh world, that these feelings will go away. But do they? Yet, as teachers, they believe that they can make a difference. If they can only teach these torch bearers of the future to covet the true love that Romeo and Juliet so unquestionably prove must exist, what a wonderful world we could live in. If only Gatsby can lead these students to live their own lives, teach them how to honestly pursue dreams, how fantastic life could be. If only the students would sit for a night and read O’brien’s The Things They Carried, how sure they are that war would be no more. How great the world would be if they could only teach the students to see the beauty, to know the horror, to feel that which is sublime. Spoken or silently understood, these teachers believe that the right few words can change the world. For, the world does need to change.


Today, given the choice, most children will sit at a desk with a computer rather than under a tree with a book. The average teenage would rather chat with their friends on AIM and stalk their ex-girlfriends or current love interests on facebook, than read the stories that fundamentally define what humanity is, what it could be. You may argue that they’re being more human with the computer and communications technology; they are speaking and interacting with other human beings, they are on national geographic seeing parts of the world that they would never see in a novel, they are learning the current realities of the world that no book can ever provide. Is this not better than arguing whether it’s better to be, or not to be?

There is no simple answer. I do think it’s great that the Internet can give us the realities of life across the globe. But what if I don’t want to teach realities, what if I want to teach ideals? What if I don’t want to teach what is, what if I want to teach what I do so honestly believe could be? Can I utilize the all that communication technology provides without distracting from the dream worlds and grandiose notions of being that I will teach? Do I sacrifice the glimmers knowledge I see in novels for the glare of knowledge that can be found online?

I'd give all the wealth that years have piled,
The slow result of Life's decay,
To be once more a little child
For one bright summer day.

- Lewis Carroll, "Solitude"


Next Week: Technology and Idealism in Education

The Problem of Hermeneutics: Why This Post Will Probably Offend Someone

University of Iowa Professor John Durham Peters, in the bible of communications theory that is Speaking Into The Air, writes that Hermeneutics is the reading of texts that have drifted out of their original historical setting. Essentially, it is the interpretation of stray texts. Historically, it has referred to the practice of looking at religious documents, but as a philosophical consideration the notion has come to encompass the whole realm of communication. Philosophers such as Hegel, Marx, and Kierkegaard even see face to face communication as a form of Hermeneutics, for it involves a great deal of interpretation; the spoken word is a poor representative of inner life. Considering the study in the context of Blogs, we might refer to hermeneutics simply as eavesdropping - the study of a text that was not intended for you.

Wow, that’s a lot of information. We’ve got some dead philosophers, a leading communications theorist, and a broad contemporary philosophical notion. I should probably do a better job of citing all that knowledge that I once learned from other sources. What if the plagiarism police come and take me? I picture old lady librarians breaking in through my door and locking me in the back of the bookmobile. It’s a scary thought. But I’m brave (or stupid, or perhaps lazy,) and have decided not to cite in depth. Why? Because this is my blog, it is my personal journal. Oh, wait. You’re reading it. It’s not personal anymore. Then again, it might not be intended for you, you’re essentially eavesdropping on my thoughts. I’m very confused. I bet you are too.

So here’s the dilly, yo: This is my blog. It’s supposed to be my personal thoughts, yet at the same time it’s open to the public. I view this as my tool to practice both my thinking and my writing. (That’s why I get to write words like dilly and talk about mind-boggling things like hermeneutics.) Yet, those who read it might see it as something different. Those who know me best might see it as a great personal toy, knowing very well how I like to play with the ideas I come across in the world of knowledge. Yet, those who don’t know me very well might see it as a stringent statement of my personal beliefs and the way I understand the world. Professors might read it and hang their head in shame at my writing style or my unprecedented ability to butcher ideas. My words will undoubtedly be misunderstood, misinterpreted, and as soon as I comment on anything anywhere near controversial, they will probably piss someone off. The amazing part is that I won’t intend to do any of these things, to produce any of those thoughts – but there is no way to avoid them.

Given more consideration, I assume that there will be two types of readers. There those who will read my words from Michigan; they are not necessarily engaging in hermeneutics for the words are semi-intended for them, and they have a chance to ask questions and I will get a chance to respond. However, the communication is still flawed and heavy on interpretation, for I know there are many who will read this and never comment or never ask for clarification, they will simply eavesdrop, or perhaps stalk. (Haha, caught you.) However, there will also be those who read this who are not in the class, who have no real connection to me at all, and are simply reading and trying to comprehend a text that is removed from them in both space and time. This is where problems may lie: whether my readers be those I know who just don’t ask for clarification or those far removed with no ability to move into a more reliable correspondence, there is always great room for miscommunication.

To refer again to Dr. Peters wonderful prose, we see that “communication is a risky adventure without guarantees.” New communications technology, while perhaps serving to expand the practices of communication, dramatically complicates it. Never has the room for misunderstanding, for finding fine lines between communication and eavesdropping, been so great and so challenging. Never has the possibility of coming across stray texts been greater. Never has the study of hermeneutics been so critical to a society as it is now becoming.

On Intellectual Ego and Academic Apprehension: We’re Supposed to be High-School Teachers, Not High School Students

Today our class periods were characterized by two overwhelming themes; debate fueled by strong emotions and unchallengeable personal opinions, and seemingly frantic concern about workloads and grades. I’m not a big fan of either. Understandably, if you put 55 pretty damn smart people in the same room and start talking about a subject that’s even remotely controversial, you’ll get a debate. Undoubtedly, a group of future high school teachers will want more than any other group to try to teach the knowledge that they have. This doesn’t mean that we should have class periods like that though. I think things could have gone a little bit smoother.

At times it seemed like people weren’t listening to each other; they were just waiting for the moment when they could make their knowledge/reasoning/experiences/voices heard. This amused me because I do enjoy a good debate, but it could have been so much better if we were more accepting of each others opinions without being so guarded. I believe that everything anyone says can be, or even is in fact, brilliant. The simple fact is that the greatest philosophers of the modern age have a hard time moving past solipsism. If great minds can’t prove that a world exists outside of our own perception, I find it simply incredible that people can hold so sternly onto their opinions and reasoning. There is not one simple piece of knowledge in western thought that can go unchallenged. We’re in grad school to learn. Part of learning is hearing others. (Perhaps we can even take a break from our constant discussions and debates and listen to our professors.)

Maybe the issue is that I’ve read too much Plato, (he wrote about the famous Greek guy in the robe that says ‘I only know that I know nothing,’) or perhaps the fact is that I’m younger and whole lot more naïve than my classmates. I may not agree with everything they say, in the future I may not agree with everything my students say, but I believe that any intelligent, reasoned, heartfelt opinion is brilliant. It can be nothing more, but it can also be nothing less. Simply put, I don’t believe you can educate unless you understand how truly and inarguably fickle our foundation of knowledge is in this world.


Along the same lines, I thought the degree of concern about grades and assessment seemed to be a little ridiculous. Okay, yes, we’re going to be high school teachers and understanding the values of assessments is important. But do you think, maybe, at least in some little way, we can move past that as graduate students? Would it be possible, after so many years of schooling to seek some knowledge, maybe even a fleeting glimmer of wisdom, instead of freaking out about exactly how many sentences our response is supposed to be or when it’s supposed to be due? At the end of this program you will be assigned some number out of 8 (or 4, I don’t even know.) No matter how high this number is, or how low this number is, it doesn’t have a great correlation with what you actually know. If it’s lower, it won’t take away from what you know. I guarantee all of you have walked out of a classroom with a great grade and understood less than when you’ve walked into it. I think the focus needs to change at this point in our education.

Finally, It’s not like we’re competing against each other in this program. We’re here to learn from each other. Part of the appeal of being a teacher is a lifetime of learning from others, adjusting our own opinions with the times, learning how to identify with and teach new generations of students new knowledge and ever-changing standard curriculums. It seems to me that some of us are failing to see the big picture here. Yes, I myself may never understand life outside of a school, but I at least hope that my understanding of what education is supposed to be represents something beyond striving for the first letter of the alphabet.


Sorry for the rant, I’m usually not one to complain. Next post: The Problem of Hermeneutics: Why this post will probably offend some people.