As a literacy educator, I try to stay current with forms of campus literacy, including that which appears in the campus newspaper.
A while back, I was troubled by something that appeared on the opinion page, and I felt a personal obligation to respond to a letter by an instructor of Ethnic Studies.
It seems that this instructor was offended by David Horowitz's appearance on campus and Pepsi-Cola's sponsorship of the event. Others had written letters as well about the public presentation, voicing their concern that the University--or one of its funded organizations--could bring such an exclusionary speaker to campus. They claimed the practice was discriminatory in that certain members of the audience would be unable to listen to the man's prejudiced views and that his appearance at BGSU was an affront to the diversity they sought to uphold.
This example violates a very core value I hold about education, and because of that, I felt the need to respond. I was upset because it seemed the reactions to Horowitz on campus were doing the opposite of what they claimed: they were attempting to limit access to diverse viewpoints. Instead of reacting with logic and persuasive tactic to ideas that they found discriminatory, they sought to silence those voices. Merely silencing them, however, would do nothing to change the hearts and minds of those producing the ideas. Who is right or wrong is not at issue here; what is at issue is the need to protect speech we hate precisely because we hate it. It gives us something to think about--it stirs us up, and most importantly, there is no possible way that it can hurt us. If anything, it makes us clarify our values further. There is no true risk in controversy. In fact, it is the stuff of education, or should be. Debate over issues is what keeps public discourse alive; it is part of what keeps the university campus so vital and fertile.
I was disturbed by the suggestion that students would be safer sitting in their dorm rooms instead of exposing themselves to individuals who think differently. Should students be taught to reject ideological positions they've never had the opportunity to hear first-hand? Is that what the educational experience is about?
Not in my opinion. And, herein lies my educational philosophy.
I feel it is important to teach students that we do have a choice about whether we will accept or reject the ideas we hear, ideas that are growing increasingly global and diverse in the Information Age.
I also feel it is important to recognize our natural impulse to reject anything that does not match our limited, individual views of reality. In Jane Austens book Persuasion, she observes, How quick come the reasons for approving what we like." Persuasion is something we do to ourselves, we have control over it, and it is essential to recognize that control in order to get to the heart of critical thinking. It is especially crucial in the face of changing literacies, medium/message relationships, and technologies.
There are two bits of advice that I consciously dispense to students every semester. One I administer on an as-needed basis when individual students ask me to excuse an absence for something they feel is of questionable validity. When their motive is pure and their regret genuine, I recognize that they are willing to accept responsibility for their own education. I tell them, "Don't let school get in the way of your education." Education is an indefinite activity, unique to each individual; it is not a finite, passively-acquired quantity. In order to become educated, one has to seek ways to make it happen. These ways sometimes lie outside of the classroom.
The other bit of advice, I give to the whole class. I tell them, "Every teacher has an agenda." Too often, students believe they are in school to listen to authorities speak on subjects that they must learn by rote, and they fail to question the fallibility of the information they are receiving. Not only should they learn to practice critical evaluation of society and media while in college, but they should turn those same skills upon the system of education itself as a social institution representing specific values.
With greater subtlety, I communicate the message that they should remember, whatever their roots, their family's perspective composes a part of public opinion, and they should use that perspective to educate those around them even as they critically evaluate it. Sometimes it is the teacher who doesn't understand their needs.
Specifically, then, what do I believe it is important to teach? For me, literacy instruction is the most important job of the compositionist. This educator is responsible for sponsoring critical literacy in students by providing guidance in the acquisition of skills, abilities, and knowledges that are crucial to the student's success in a specific discourse community or culture, so they can learn learn how to manipulate components of a field independently to demonstrate literacy.
In terms of technological literacy, this does not mean trying to master, access, or control all of the information technology makes available; rather, it means developing strategies for finding useful material and learning to read it critically. Critical technological literacy means questioning and distancing oneself from the images and content that confront us on frontiers of technology, while at the same time using it effectively.
And we have to admit that as technology educators, we are also technology learners; we must continue to update our knowledge and stay flexible for the inevitability of change (and the inevitability of the big "crash"). Technological literacy, like education, it seems, is cumulative, but never exhaustive. And, every day is a crash course. |