I and Eyes

Today's struggle while teaching with digital technology: not having their eyes.

As a teacher, I have not really considered how important it is to see my student's eyes.  I mean, stopped to reflect on how much simple eye contact transmits: engagement, understanding, confusion, unity. . . Of course, like so many things, I have suggested this importance thousands of times.  After all, how often have I said, "look up please," or used physical proximity to make someone with his head down engage me?  It is so common, I do not even notice anymore.  And there's the problem.

When students are not looking at me because they are looking somewhere else--intently at a book or mindlessly into space--I can make a quick read of the situation, determine if I need to get them reengaged, and, if so, consider how best to do so.  But when they have the laptop open while I am using my computer to explain something projected onto the screen at the front of the room, it is a bit more confusing.

I know most people would say, "just tell them to put their screens down when you are talking."  Of course I do this.  Sometimes.   On one of the first days of class, we decided that I would say "Acute" when it was time for them to really look at me--acute representing the angle that their laptop screen should at (their suggestion).  I realize that I am ultimately in control of the technology, not the other way around.

But what about the numerous times that they could be looking at a document just as easily on their own computer?  And what about the times that I share an article that includes hyperlinks that they want to check out?  Or the times when I tell them about a helpful website, and they want to explore it?  Or bring up a name I think they should know, and they want to learn about the person on the spot? This is when I struggle, because to deny them these moments could be to deny them a moment of genuine curiosity or engagement.

When I ask students about these moments, they assure me that they are listening, that disengaging eye contact does not mean they have lost the thread of what I am saying.  I know others have studied, discussed, and experimented with this element of the technology-enabled classroom: Rheinghold, Davidson, Turkle.  But I am also finding that it is much easier to read about and ponder over than to actually encounter.

Getting comfortable with the ways that students use devices in class is going to take some work.  As well as the help and cooperation of my students.   

Attention! Why write?

I’m thinking about two things after today’s Media Collage class: first, the importance of making clear to students why I ask them to read, write, and speak about certain ideas.  Obviously, this idea is important regardless of the subject matter.  But teaching this new course has reminded me of all sorts of basic instructional practices.  For instance, in my mind I know exactly why we should read, write, and talk about attention and distraction: it has become an increasingly important subject for people who use, research, and critique digital technology.  And, in fact, these topics came up in our conversation after the first round of student presentations.  

When considering the benefits of audience members using computers during presentations, some people commented on how it proved to be an exercise in self-control and how it made paying attention easier.  Interesting comments.  In my mind, then, this topic became worthy of “more attention.”  However, just because I see a clear link from one activity to the next does not mean the same link exists for students.  As I said, it was a good reminder.

The second thing I’m considering revolves around why writing, particularly for a blog, is useful. Consider the little experiment we did in class: everybody closed his or her eyes and tried to focus on a particular idea.  After three minutes, we opened our eyes and wrote down what we thought about. As those who shared their lists made evident, distraction appears to be the brain’s standard operating mode.  Here's an example:

And one more:

Whether it is external stimuli--coughing, ring tones, loud computers--or the way our thoughts naturally flow from one idea to another-- “I’m hungry. How are machines made?”--it is hard to achieve deep, sustained focus on an idea by simply “sitting and thinking.”

But why is deep, sustained focus important?  After all, we have lightning fast connections and a wealth of information that is only a click away.  

Although a student posed this question to me, other students answered it quite well: deep sustained focus allows for growth, for increased understanding of those things for which we are passionate, for making interesting connections, for making important realizations and discoveries, and for allowing ideas to flourish.  

The next question, I fielded: But how does writing fit in?  Because writing well requires concentration and focus, or, to come back to one of the key terms, it requires attention.  In short, the attempt to articulate an idea in an interesting and coherent manner requires dedicating one’s mental faculties to this sole task.  

I recognize some of the arguments made in favor of distraction: it is akin to divergent thinking and allows for surprising connections and novel ideas.  I find these arguments convincing.  But distraction all the time is as detrimental as attention all the time.  At some point, we need to delve into one idea and learn what we think.  This is what writing offers.  As for blogging in particular, the writing can then become part of an ongoing conversation with people anywhere.  And they, in turn, can distract me with their own fantastic, thought-provoking ideas.

Resistance is Not Futile

The latest from my adventures in teaching digital technology.  The students are giving group presentations focusing on learning experiences.  While one objective of this activity is to examine helpful ways to use technology, particularly Google Presentation, and create engaging slide shows, my main interest is in what they do when not presenting.  I am interested in how they fulfill their roles as audience members.

To this end, each student has a laptop in front of him or her during the presentations.  On that computer screen, they are supposed to have open a shared Google Doc on which they make comments in real time.  I stress the word supposed because I am not sitting behind them;  I do not have a handy mirror reflecting back to me what they are doing while their classmates present; I can not eavesdrop on their activity with a big brother screen on my computer.  As I told them, this is an experiment to see what benefits, if any, a computer has for them as audience members.

When the presentations are over, I told them we will discuss the degree to which it was helpful to have a device open during presentations.  We will also look at the comments on the Google Docs and evaluate if the feedback is constructive and purposeful.  I look forward to these discussions, anticipating some honest conversation concerning whether the computer became a distraction.  Honest because I have allowed them, even mandated, that they have computers open.  They do not have to worry about the kinds of consequences that result in furtive device usage.  Hopefully this conversation will prove to be a learning experience in and of itself.

Regardless, I have already learned something about changing habits.  It has been extremely difficult for me not to admonish them as I have watched them type some silly-seeming comments:  

WOO. very cool. Trombone=awesome. MURRKAT ROCKS!!! meoowWwWwWw great presentation by all the ladies. <3.

After the first presentation, I was on my way to making an announcement when I realized, "this is what I am asking them to do."  After all, if I want an honest discussion about their use of technology, the students and I need to start from their natural inclinations.  Which has meant restraining my own.