Rebecca Dymond

Unit 6, ED 800

Coming of Age as a Digital Literate

Until recently, I was a pretty casual consumer of technology. My digital literacy was not
non-existent, but my range of skills was rudimentary at best: some social media, Google searches
(of course), email, an online fitness tracker. As a teacher I had students using blogs and a range
of Google Drive applications. The story of my digital coming of age is inextricably linked to the
different roles I assume in my life - three levels of responsibility that maintain the tension
between what I know and what I think I need to know. First, I am a teacher of students from
whom I think I have a lot to learn. Second, I am new to the role of graduate student in a program
that I interact with completely online. Finally, and most personally, I am the mother of a three
year old technology native. My story and this journey are deeply personal, and I am too close to
the levels of inquiry they require to draw purely objective reasoning from them. However, this is
a journey all students and professionals need to decide for themselves, and honoring my own
autobiographical influences allows me better perspective as I honor the stories of others.

I have worked at an independent boarding school for 6 years and this past school year
was my first in the classroom as a Learning Specialist. I had some ideas when I started the year
about the technology instructional needs of the students, and I had a lot to learn. One student,
who started the school year needing to finish a course through an online university, had led the
administration to believe her progress in the course had been steady, and all she needed was time
to complete the remaining requirements. Another student wanted to take an additional math class
to accelerate her credits and to provide a challenge. Her parents supported her and were willing
to pay for an online class; they assured me that it didn’t matter how much progress she made,
they were happy that she was taking initiative to self advocate. I also worked with a student who
wanted to drop a class and was referred to me to determine what he would do instead. None of
my previously held ideas helped me at all to know what to do with these students.

​ interview for ​Digital Nation, Secretary of Education, Arne Duncan, said that
In an
educators have no way of knowing what school will look like in 5, 10, or 20 years. It does not do
a student well to train them for what school or careers looked like yesterday, so Mr. Duncan
asserts that the relevant questions are, “How do you continue to learn and how do you continue
to increase your knowledge?” The three students referenced above had a lot to learn, and most
of that learning had to do with pragmatic skills that overshadowed the rigors of their course
work. I learned alongside them.
 I learned that the student who was finishing an online course had only moved steadily
through the comprehension quizzes of her class; she’d not yet even accessed the writing
assignments or projects that were 85% of her grade. Together, we prioritized the assignments and
worked through the anxiety provoked through submitting work for evaluation to an instructor
she’d never met. The available technical support was minimal, so this also became an exercise in
troubleshooting, while practicing grit, when my student threatened to give up.

My second student enrolled in an online Geometry class. This was the most control she’d
ever had, and it was a challenge to make sure she felt empowered to make her own decisions.
She was more than willing to defer to me. The next challenge was providing the opportunities for
her to organize a plan and follow it through without giving me ownership of the accountability.
We created a shared online calendar for her self-imposed deadlines that allowed for visual
accountability that was not owned by me. Our check ins were led by the student, who adjusted
her own plan as needed.

The student who needed to find a new class worked with me to design a course. He
needed an English credit and had high level of technical interest and knowledge, so the class we
​ designed was called ​Writing Styles Across Technology. I assigned five writing projects from
different genres, each inspired by a technological means of publication. He created a digital
Holley Portrait​, a short story embedded with digital photographs, an editorial piece for
submission to the ​New York Times Student Editorial Contest​, a research article with
corresponding podcast, and a resume and cover letter geared toward his dream job. His
culminating assignment was a portfolio ​website​ for display of all of his work. (The website is no
longer fully functional, but does still display some of the work.)

I give detail of each of these experiences with my students because they highlight the
extent to which the technology education was anything but impersonal. Each student needed
help, support, and guidance. None of them needed lecture or a test to demonstrate that they
learned something. They each learned content, but more importantly they learned how to learn
through digital means. There was considerable metacognition, but it was authentic, genuine, and
happened in real time. I learned that it is okay (and really fun) to let students push their and my
own limits of technological ability, and I was reminded that there is as much to learn from failure
as from success.

Bolstered from the experiences with my students last year, I started my graduate school
experience this summer. My decision to attend graduate school online was one of necessity, and
not one that I made with great confidence. There are no universities within commuting distance,
and I could not afford to relocate as a full time student. The biggest challenge so far has been
learning to read online. One of my students, an avid online reader, told me that he knows a little
about almost everything, and a lot about almost nothing. I laughed at his quip, but I now know
what he means. Reading in the presence of hypermedia is hard! It requires almost constant
decision making, wanting to read for understanding the current page, but my curiosities (and
attention) are piqued by the hyperlinked text. I feel stressed about all of those links, the pressure
to absorb all of that information. I then find myself in an unrelated wormhole four websites later
before returning to the task at hand. The ​Online Academic Abilities document summarized my
new skill acquisition well. “...[T]rue development, in the quest for better thinking and practice,
carries the obligation for reflective change, or the measuring of any proposed gains for the uses
of the mind against what might be lost.” In another course I took this summer, there was a high
level of interaction among the class, and an intimate level of collaboration among a small group.
Though I felt intimidated to put my posts “out there” for my class, I experienced such warmth
and community, and really high quality collaborative work. I feel better prepared, even with just
two graduate courses, to help my students become aware of what they need to know as they enter
the next realm of their academic journey.

My own little technology native is three years old and will spend as much time
navigating an iPad or iPhone as he is allowed. He is unflinching when trying new apps, and
easily flustered when his taps or swipes do not create the result he expected. The need for limit
setting has occurred much earlier in his life than I expected, and I am constantly aware of how
my own technology use influences him. I want, as I am sure most parents want, to expose my
son in such a way that he is a confident, literate, able, and responsible user of technology. His
life will be at least as much immersed in communication technologies as is mine, though he will
not have the experience of adjusting to it. Equally, though, I want him to have an off-line life, to
experience the kinds of connections with others and with nature that I value so much. Of course I
am putting my own value judgement on such relationships; there is nothing to empirically
measure that one is more meaningful than another. However, for those things that make me
happy and those relationships that help ground me in who I am, I don’t think it is wrong to want
the same for him.

I was struck by the videos on the Digital Nation website about ​Evan Skinner​, a mother
who commits herself to protecting her children from the dangers of their online lives. As Mrs.
Skinner talked about her self-imposed responsibility to inform other parents when photos and
videos of children were posted online showing drinking and partying, her conviction was
familiar. In the protection of my child, I could go there. However, in her decision to share with
other parents, her ability to parent her own son through the situation was usurped. He was
overrun by the pressure of the other students whose parents reacted to his mother’s
communication. In the end, she perpetuated what she most feared - harm coming to her children
because of something posted through the Internet. I felt so sad when Cal Skinner talked about his
anger toward his mother, and saw her tears as she explained that he’s pulled away.
 I think ​Douglas Rushkoff​ offers really sound advice as he navigates the early years of his
daughter’s life: “When we’re at home with each other, we are at home with each other. I don’t
want her to feel like she’s competing with technology.” On one level, I am focused on setting an
example for my son. I monitor my own use of technology such that he never feels like my
attention is divided. Just as I would stop washing dishes to attend to him, I will put my phone
down and close my laptop. Further, I would not want my impression of my son’s technological
behavior to come between him and my ability to be his parent. This means putting aside my own
journey as a digital literate and seeking always to understand before making a judgement. It also
means that I need to honor his journey as a digital literate. If I am wrestling to find balance at 30,
I need to grant him understanding and patience throughout his life. This does not mean
permissiveness toward risky behavior, but there will be little I can do to provide guidance and
protection if I cross his boundaries and he shuts me out.

My story of living and working with new information and communication technologies is
woven through the different roles I assume throughout each day. In all, the things I have learned
that resonates most soundly is to seek always to be a learner and to be open to the opportunities
of adapting in all situations. To be adaptable is to be resourceful, and there are incredible
resources available and becoming accessible constantly. I hope that writers like ​Clive Thompson
can assuage higher educators like ​Mark Bauerlien​. It is an invigorating time to be an educator, to
be teaching students in preparation for yet undiscovered careers.