Well, This is Embarrassing

For some reason, I found posting a picture of my Facebook profile to my blog to be really unpleasant. This isn't how my profile usually plays with people - and I certainly don't spend this much time talking about it to anyone.

At any rate, I've never viewed Facebook (or MySpace) as a venue for meeting new people. The idea of making a friend only online has always been creepy to me. Instead, Facebook is just a different way for me to interact and (re)make connections with people I already know. If someone goes through the work of finding me on Facebook, assuming I know who they are (and they're not sociopathic), I'll probably accept their friend request. Now that I've moved away from the Midwest, where all my friends and family still are, Facebook helps fill the communication gaps. No, I haven't had time to call my aunt in a week or so, but by glancing at my wall, she can tell what I've been up to and how I'm doing.

Especially in comparison to some of the other profiles I've seen from class, my Facebook profile is robust, brimming with information - and all of it is true. I see my profile as something for all my Facebook friends. Newer people I've met and people I've fallen out of touch with can see what I'm doing, what I'm interested in, etc. And older friends can see a couple inside jokes and laugh at my multitude of quotes.



I personally like Vie's suggestion of social networking sites being possibly subversive to traditional labels, "social networking sites are challenging because of their ability to be both threatening tot he established order of things and at the same time protective of traditional ways of understanding the world" (20). On Facebook, I am a lot of different people. I'm a former high school classmate, a best friend, a daughter, an older cousin and sister, the young friend, a graduate student, a former student. And my profile tries to balance all these things (and more) at once. I fail to be all things to all people, but I want to trust people - so I probably err on the side of too much info than too little. What's the point of having an ironic Facebook profile?



Honestly, and kind of embarrassingly, this is the stuff I like. I do like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Project Runway, Jesus Camp, and my friend's hysterical band Axis of Action. But I guess I'd rather be honestly subversive than guardedly so.

36 Principles in the Composition Classroom

It seems like the easiest or perhaps most obvious way to incorporate several of Gee's learning principles into a composition classroom is to use multimodal teaching and assignments. Of course, that is not a simple answer, since I now have to unpack what kinds of multimodal assignments I would use. I've come up with a sampling of assignments or types of writing that would include many of Gee's principles.

Blogging/Responding to an Online Forum
This could incorporate Principles 1 (Active, Critical Learning), 3 (Semiotic), 4 (Semiotic Domains), and definitely 6 ("Psychosocial Moratorium"). There are more that could be included, but I'll argue for these four specifically. Blogging or responding to forums can be a more active and critical act than simply reading and highlighting an article for yourself. By making students responsible for the content and placing them in conversation about it, engaging the text should be much more accessible. Also, if we make the blogs multimodal (must incorporate image, links, video, sounds), then they are also learning about "interrelations between sign systems" along with how to navigate groups connected to them. Most obviously, by giving students the opportunity to somewhat cloak themselves online, they are able to take bigger risks in some of their opinions than if everything had to be spoken directly to their classmates.

Group Writing Assignment Using WikiSpaces
This could incorporate Principles 34-36 specifically. By working together in an online, students would create "affinity groups" based mostly on shared goals while knowledge would be dispersed. Finally, each student would be a producer of knowledge (and an editor, too) instead of simply a consumer.

While I think it would be fascinating to watch how a video game might be incorporated into the composition classroom, these two assignment ideas include Gee's principles without needing to buy a PS3.

Reveling in the Carnival

Our little Angel Adventure on Tuesday was bizarre, unexpected, funny, frustrating, and a completely new experience for me. While I've used multiple instant messenger programs, I had never talked with more than one person at a time in the same conversation. As Anna aptly said, it was even a bit like a junior high dance. However, I think what we were trying to do - hold class more or less as usual, just didn't fit the mode of communication we were using.

What frustrated me:
Like many other people in class have expressed, I was frustrated with Angel's chat interface. How different would class have been if we were using an instant messenger that told us when people were typing? How different would it have gone if there had been no lag time between hitting "enter" and seeing your text appear in the conversation? I'd bet money that conversation would have been much smoother than it was. I was also distracted by the multiple threads of conversation we had going at several points. I wanted our Angel chat to be like a normal class, where I have enough time to think and respond to people before we switch topics. I frequently felt like while I was free to "talk" at any point, I was less likely to be heard.

What delighted me:
While I was frustrated at the same time, I loved how quickly we moved from topic to topic without having to completely shut down any options for further thought. In class, I would have had a harder time saying, "Rachel, I know you said this 20 minutes ago, but just now that got me thinking about..." However, in the chat environment, no conversation truly ended - everything just opened up more doors for further thought. I also loved the "playful" environment we created.
From talking with several other people in class, I know just how frustrated lots of us were. While I understand that, we really were at our best when the conversation was unbridled and freewheeling. Control of the conversation slipped out of everyone's hands, and instead we were left riding a slightly unbalanced tilt-a-whirl - which can be frightening and fun.

How I would use this in my own classes:
As a method of actually holding class, of thinking deeply about our readings, Angel would not be effective. I mean, we're grad students for goodness sake and not even we could stay on task (despite the best efforts of several students and Dr. Arola). However, that's not a bad thing. What we did do was come up with a million little ideas - and that's how I would use instant messenger (especially for a large group) in class. It seems like chatting would be perfectly suited for coming up with discussion topics which could later be hashed out in more detail on message boards or in class discussion.

I know some people thought the class was wasted time. For me, it was so interesting to watch us "fail" at holding normal class while succeeding in coming up with different topics to talk about. Angel chat just wasn't suited for what we all wanted it to be.
In the end, I enjoyed the carnival.

dun... Dun... Dun... DA DUMM!! (?)

Dramatic, I know. Please imagine "Sprach Zarathustra" playing in the background.

The only experience I've had with distance education is one ICN (Iowa Communications Network) class I took while in high school. It was Psychology 101 offered by a community college in a town about 45 minutes away, and only upperclassmen or designated TAG (Talented and Gifted) students could take it for college credit for free. I took the class as a TAG sophomore, and I was pumped. I was excited at the prospect of learning something not ordinarily taught at my high school and taking my first baby steps toward the new frontier of college. The first time I sat down with the rest of my class, and I stared at the TV screen, waiting for new wisdom to be imparted to me, I felt remarkably like those monkeys at "The Dawn of Man." Because this ICN class would bring me knowledge otherwise locked away from me, this would fit into the pro-distance learning stance.



However, this is basically what my ICN classroom looked like. Those dorky things sitting in front of those grinning people are the microphones, so if you had a question, or just wanted the camera to automatically zoom in on you, you press that big clunky button down and talk. Hopefully the teacher, who is teaching to his own classroom and at least two other satellite locations, will notice you. When class actually started happening, I felt more than a little tricked. I was one of at least 60 total people taking the class. And the technology was the kind of thing our local sheriff and sweater-vested school board members were excited about, but the students were all painfully aware of how outdated it was. The clunky technology, overenthusiasm of the administration and huge class size fits right in with the anti-distance learning camp.



Basically, this was not a good class (thank god it was free). Actually, I never even transferred the credit, preferring to retake Psych 101 at my undergrad rather than count on whatever I might have recalled from that class. Ultimately, it was a failure - the kind of class where you learn more from reading the book than showing up ever would get you. But it didn't have to be that way. Had the class sizes been smaller and had the teacher cared even a little bit about doing more than marking up our tests, things might have gone differently. I suppose it was less a failure of "distance learning" than it was a missed opportunity.

With my Psych 101 class, I was initially excited because this technology would bring me new material to learn, and then after the class had started, I realized that how our technology was set up was hindering the class experience. While I walked out of the class with an A, and helping more than a few of my classmates along the way, I left dissatisfied that I hadn't learned more. I'm still unhappy about that, but the third perspective in Webb Peterson's article would have warned me against being blinded either for or against technology. I suppose with one lesson learned, I try to stay on this third side of the distance-learning debate. While my own experience wasn't very positive, I see so much room for improvement that I can't discredit it altogether.