There's No Crying in Instructional Technology. NO CRYING!

BLOGGER'S NOTE: This is a re-published post from 2010. As I have edited to reflect some more "contemporary resources," it still reflects my views on why we should be using technology in the classroom, and why digital literacy and instructional technology are so very important to our students, and our profession. Enjoy.

Last week, it happened again. A solemn, forlorn student, looking blankly and helplessly at a screen after several vain attempts at trying to get something to work they way they wanted it to work. A moment comes and I hear that so often uttered statement:

"Mr. Lammers,  I think this computer hates me."

Yes, it does. It hates you like Arnold Schwarzenegger hated Linda Hamilton in The Terminator. In fact, your computer just made SkyNet self-aware and has begun a countdown sequence that will destroy every computer and network on the earth. That's how much it hates you.

And of course I said none of that. Instead I reminded this student that computers don't act, they are acted upon, and they are machines that are sometimes prone to mechanical failure, not fits of emotional rebellion. Sometimes what is done can't be un-done, but most of the time, the damage can be reversed. You must be patient, you should back-up your work often, and you should learn the ways of The Force. (I actually said that one. At least it got the student to laugh a little.)

Yup. One of my first computer hate-crushes. 

Other comments will from students will include (but are not necessarily limited to) "this computer sucks," I'd rather be using my PC/Mac," and my all-time favorite "this thing it taking forever." I wish I still had that Radio Shack TRS-80 computer that really did take forever just to boot up to demonstrate how far we've come. ("You want forever, kid? I lost a good three months of my high school career just waiting for the damn blinking "OK" to appear on my computer screen.")

Why do we do this? Why do we subject ourselves to learn a technology that is flawed - albeit better than it was long ago - and then turn it loose on our students? Sure, they may know more about Twitter, Facebook, MySpace and other social media, but it's up to us to take that knowledge and turn it toward the "bright side" of the force. Again, why?

Because without a little direction, the technology is merely a toy. Something to divert us, to titillate us, or to just pas the time. Oh, what a waste.

Can you write a paper on a blog? Probably not according to the Chicago Manual of Style. But can you formulate a thought and get feedback? Sure. Research? Probably, given a little direction. Answers to questions? Again, yes, with a little preparation. All of that can lead to formal papers, dissertations, essays and other scholarly writing with a little planning. Just a little.

It amazes me that with just "a little" forethought, direction or patience you can find a vast audience for your work - and thus create something better than you possibly imagined.

Forgive me for drinking the Kool-Aid, but I think the amount of access at our fingertips can be tapped to just about any one's advantage. If my past education (UNI Instructional Technology program) and current experiences (Google Trainer classes and COVID 19 interruptions) teach me anything, it's that the tools we have access to are pretty powerful.

Which leads me back to what I read on page 9 of Disrupting Class (Christensen, Johnson, Horn) about when a country (which I read to mean "educational system") goes from "developing" to "established." Our country is in love with the technology because it is fun, it keeps us in contact with each other and lets people know what "is on our minds." We're established, we've accomplished advanced medical practices, we've gone to the moon. We've done our homework. What we are largely missing is the amount of information we have access to that can expand our knowledge to almost limitless proportions. Certainly a number of creative thinkers can point us in the right direction. The problem is that we still have people who are at that precarious moment that I illustrated at the beginning of this post:

"This thing hates me."

From A League of Their Own, 1992, Columbia Pictures

There is no crying in Instructional Technology. There might be a little angst, time invested, trial and error and - OK, I'll admit it, I've done it before - yelling at inanimate objects of technology. But we shouldn't cry. We'll get there, those of us who are behind the curve. Play, experiment, try the applications in places they were never developed for. Keep notes. This is just as academic as hacking through Keats, Chaos Theory, imaginary numbers or the Malthusian Theory. The only difference is that it's just a lot newer.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/striatic/2192192956/