Humanities: June 2008 Archive Page

A good overview of the issues relating to using Wikis in the classroom. From the NCTE Inbox Blog:

The benefits for collaborative writing should be obvious. Wikis allow multiple authors to edit a text easily. While the video doesn't discuss it, wikis include tracking information so anyone can look at who makes changes to the texts and compare the different versions at different points in its creation. Try to do that with a collaborative paper written in Word.

A group of Seton Hill graduates who bonded through the SHU blogosphere in 2003 and 2004 have continued to use their blogs, and there are some newer students who have made an effort to continue their blogging this summer.

Since the rise of social networking sites, the typical SHU student blog has gotten more academic, since the students who are intersted in developing their online identity and relationships already have several well-populated choices.

I only joined Facebook a few months ago. I've connected with a few old friends and people I know from conferences. I envisioned that a handful of students would "friend" me out of pity, but I found myself welcomed fairly quickly. 

Yet I'm surprised at how relatively dead Facebook is this summer.  I guess when there aren't that many shared real-world events to plan, reflect and post pictures about, there's not much point in visiting Facebook. Stuart Turton on PC Pro has some simillar reactions:

Facebook was a shorthand for my life - "here's who he is, what's he's doing and how he did it" condensed onto one page for your pleasure. Old conversational gambits were suddenly redundant, nobody ever had to ask "what you've been up to this week", because you knew and more so, you know exactly what I was thinking about it "Stuart is bored, Stuart is confounded, Stuart is wondering just why he is writing this."

In the end, the novelty has worn off. I don't think Facebook is any less useful than it was, but the novelty of being in my friend's pockets 24/7 has worn off for me. And presumably for them too. So, we're back on email and mobile. We make plans in the pub and dissect the resulting carnage over dinner. I'm won't close my Facebook account, that would take effort that I don't quite have the will to put in.

The Chronicle Review ponders the effects of Grand Theft Auto IV:

You need to be honest with yourself. Go outside and find a locked car -- or go to the back alley where missile launchers hover in a glowing light waiting for you to pick them up, or go drive down that street in your town where all the strippers hang out waiting for you to pick them up -- and see if you're tempted.

But not just tempted. Not just amused or excited by the possibility of becoming a dark hero of the criminal underworld. You need to determine if you're actually willing and able to act on those temptations. You need to determine whether it's possible for you to change from whoever you were into someone completely different, someone who no longer recognizes the conditions and regulations of a society that, until you played the video game, were all you knew and believed in. That is, you need to find out just how stupid you really are.

Inside Higher Ed:

Student newspaper advisers are something of an endangered species these days. They often get caught in the middle when administrators and student journalists clash over content, and in more than a few cases on college campuses in recent years, advisers -- sometimes faculty members with tenure or tenurelike protections, but often vulnerable staff members -- have found themselves losing their jobs. (High school newspaper advisers are even more vulnerable.)

"All you have to do is look around the country to see how many conflicts there are," said Mark Goodman, the Knight Chair of Scholastic Journalism at Kent State University and former executive director of the Student Press Law Center. "This has really gained steam."

It was with several recent such controversies in mind, and numerous instances of censorship at high schools in California, that the state's Legislature overwhelmingly approved legislation this month that would prohibit a college or school district from firing, suspending or otherwise retaliating against an employee for acting to protect a student's free speech. Last week, with the measure, SB 1370, sailing for passage and a trip to the governor's office for Arnold Schwarzenegger's hoped-for signature, the University of California quietly revealed its opposition to the bill.

In a letter to State Sen. Leland Yee, the legislation's sponsor, a lobbyist for the university system "respectfully" warned Yee that the university did not expect to abide by the requirement if it was enacted.

Although the First Amendment doesn't apply to Seton Hill because we are a private institution, I'm happy to work under an administration that upholds the principle of academic freedom.

Lisa Spiro posts an interesting analysis:

I wanted to get a quick visual sense of the two texts, so I plugged them into Wordle, a nifty word cloud generator that enables you to control variables such as layout, font and color. (Interestingly, Wordle came up with the perfect visualizations for each text at random: Pierre white type on a black background shaped into, oh, a chess piece or a tombstone, Reveries a brighter, more casual handwritten style, with a shape like a fish or egg.)

Using these visual representations of the most frequent words in each book enabled me to get a sense of the totality, but then I also drilled down and began comparing the significance of particular words.

Steve introduced Susan Gibb as a driving force behind the writing and digital media culture in a small town in Connecticut.  (I'm really impressed by what comes from Tuxnis Community College).

Susan presented us with the thinking behind the creation of a 300-node creative hypertext work in StorySpace.

Susan walked the audience through the process of a single "writing space" morphing into a story.  As the writer moves in time, the character reveals her past through vignettes. Reflections (from the present looking back) and memory (more dramatic and lyrical than the present.)

Hypertext welcomes "those neat distracting ideas" that we have to squelch into order to develop an idea in a linear format.

[My question... what does this do to focus? Are 1000 story spaces, of which 300 are really good, better than a story with 300 good story spaces?  Are 300 story spaces, of which 30 are phenomenal, preferable to a story with just 30 spaces?  Moving from brainstorming and world-building to the narration of details can be tricky... Susan is very careful and meticulous about what she does, and while like Alan she's inspired by the openness of the medium, my mind jumps to how I can use this in a class full of students who are taking basic comp, and therefore haven't developed even the basic skills that contribute to a coherent paragraph, much less a coherent webtext.  Susan's experience introducing multimedia to older people can build on the print literacy that a 75-year-old has developed over a lifetime of reading.]

Susan discusses the separation between the writer and character, and referred in passing to "One of the Annes," which I found interesting. 

[I never think of the "you" in a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure novel as having multiple personalities, but of course if the book were a "Develop-Your-Own-Consciousness" novel or "Interpret-Your-Own-Metaphors" book, then perhaps I'd need different language to describe the experience.]

Just after I wrote the above, Susan just mentioned the CYOA format...

Susan notes that a linear form needs a reason to go off on a side-track, but in hypertext you don't need a reason. [Again, does that limit the focus? I don't mean to suggest Susan is encouraging frivolous side-trips, since of course the reader can avoid sidestories.  What implications does this have for "Murder your darlings" -- Quiller-Couch's advice for writers who cling too much to passages that just don't fit. "Marginalize your darlings"?]

Susan says she feels she hasn't mastered the hypertext form... she says she doesn't mind when the reader misses side stories, but she does have a "full" text in mind and she wants to make sure the reader experiences it all.

[Is this why she says she hasn't mastered the form?  Would there be no difference between vital nodes and optional nodes if she had mastered the form, or if she masters the form will she be more confident in her ability to steer the reader, or if she masters the form will she embrace its differences and not worry it?]

Her narrative structure depends upon a loop, leaving the reader with uncertainty... suggests the image of macrame, with the threads forming a "complete story".

Susan noted that short sentences increase the pace in hypertext, but also the number of writing spaces. A short lexia forces the reader to stop and contemplate. [I'm puzzled... I would think that a long lexia would slow the reader down. I wonder how the use of bold keywords and bulleted lists would affect the reader's experience of a literary hypertext.]

Next example -- A Bottle of Beer -- a sample in Hypertextopia. Ended with a quote from Steve, emphasizing the value of even an incomplete sampling of a hypertext space. To "finish" a hypertext (as a reader) is less important than the value of contemplating the nodes one encounters.

In a question, Mark referred to "killing your children"  and a "defense of hoop-de-doodle."  "How do you decide what to cut and what to move to the margins?"

Susan noted that editing with each writing space means it's easier to trim the nodes.

Chris: 100 identical people each take different paths through a text, creating 100 different paths.  To what degree, if you were to estimate the quality of the experience, would there be a few that are really great, some that are horrible, or would they be pretty much the same quality?

[Susan noted that she liked the slide presentation tool Keynote, a couple of times referred to "angry people" who followed a particular path through the text... ]

Marc from USC -- notes that Susan seems to value her work when the ideal reader meets the ideal story... value comes from sympathy between the experiences.  Do we always have to write stories that look more like the new novel, and less like the discursive novel -- Robinson Crusoe, Moll Flanders.

How to get away from the concern about ensuring the reader get the "right" or "full" story?

Steve -- notes that we have not yet fully explored the aesthetic of linking.  "It may be that every path in a hypertext is the only way to read it.  Not the right way, or the wrong way."

Juan: If we have a message, the narrative piece created by the author, can be acquired by the reader... how closely does the reader's final perception of the work match the intention of the author?  [Juan's point was about information, but the establishment of the author's intention is subjective, and the value of a work fluctuates in culture, just as the author's intention fluctuates over the life of the author, and our understanding of that intention fluctuates based on what kind of access we have to the author's notes, letters, etc.]

Mark notes that craft is important -- a work that's not communicating its message might have a technical imperfection.
 

From Scholastic, a report that shows books still appeal to kids. Does this mean that mouse-clicking adults will think of books as childish?

A new study released today finds that 75% of kids age 5-17 agree with the statement, "No matter what I can do online, I'll always want to read books printed on paper," and 62% of kids surveyed say they prefer to read books printed on paper rather than on a computer or a handheld device.

However,

Two in three children believe:
that within the next 10 years, most books which are read for fun will be read digitally - either on a computer or on another kind of electronic device.

At Hypertextopia. I found an interesting, but incomplete and unsigned (update -- according to some mouseover text, it's by Brian Yearling) hypertext that maps out part of the plot of Death of a Salesman.  I was interested in the subject matter, but I'm not sure about what value this particular hypertext arrangement offers. If it were possible to re-arrange the items so that we can walk chronologically through Willy's life, that might help make some points about Willy's character, but at present this hypertext isn't part of a larger argument that uses the information in its hypertext form, so I'm not sure what the value is. 

Saint EMC² is a more complete example, with text highlighted according to whether the link is an extension, opposition, or illustration of the linked text. That might be useful as a device to get students thinking about why they are linking.

Here's a thoughtful overview of Hypertextopia, from if:book.

The line between blogging and journalism is fuzzy, and bloggers have been sued for making statements that a trained journalist would know not to make. The Society of Professional Journalists offers training sessions for bloggers who want to know what journalists know.

People are practicing journalism through blogs, Web site production and interaction with sites maintained by mainstream news organizations. They are contributing to the world's 24/7 news cycle, making it easy and accessible for more of us to be in the know.

The Society of Professional Journalists believes the world benefits from more news coverage, not less. Through its Citizen Journalism Academy, SPJ seeks to help everyone wanting to practice journalism to do so accurately, ethically and fairly. The Society aims to help participants understand how responsible practices could increase their reach and help them have strong journalistic reputations within their communities and around the world.

Nicholas Carr, in The Atlantic:

As the media theorist Marshall McLuhan pointed out in the 1960s, media are not just passive channels of information. They supply the stuff of thought, but they also shape the process of thought. And what the Net seems to be doing is chipping away my capacity for concentration and contemplation.... Thanks to the ubiquity of text on the Internet, not to mention the popularity of text-messaging on cell phones, we may well be reading more today than we did in the 1970s or 1980s, when television was our medium of choice. But it's a different kind of reading, and behind it lies a different kind of thinking--perhaps even a new sense of the self.

The article includes an interesting anecdote about Nietzsche and his typewriter, and also offers a clever interpretation of the death of HAL from 2001.

The UK Guardian offers this great interview with interactive fiction author and theorist Emily Short.

I think the renaissance happened about 15 years ago, during the mid-90s, when much better design systems for IF were suddenly available and a community coalesced devoted to writing IF seriously, if non-commercially. There's been plenty of development since then: lots of new techniques and new ideas about how to tell a good story, how to write a good puzzle, how to maximize enjoyment and minimize the un-fun kinds of frustration. But from the perspective of people inside the hobby, right now is not the beginning or even a rebirth.

I do see IF getting a little bit more attention from the outside world, from people who haven't been following it this whole time. I think that's largely because growing attention to independent gaming as a whole. The past couple of years have seen a huge growth in the number of websites devoted to following games not produced by a big studio, and that means that there are new ways to get attention for IF. It also means a change in prejudices. There are now more people who are willing to look at and try a new game format even if it doesn't come from a commercial studio.

There's also a growing concern within the gaming industry (as far as I can observe it) about how conventional game design is not producing enough good stories, enough strong characters, enough innovation. So there's more interest in turning to indie and hobbyist communities to see what we've been doing and whether there's any valuable technique here that would be applicable on a larger scale. I like to think that we do, in fact, have something to offer.

As long as those pesky neighborhood kids stay off of Joseph Epstein's lawn, the rest of us can read his Weekly Standard essay about the generation gap in education. I went to a Catholic high school, where I figured out that the whole point of requiring uniforms and "Yes, Sister... No, Sister" was to give the kids something concrete but harmless on which to focus their rebellious energy.  I could come to school in mismatched socks and a garish tie, and nowhere in the student manual did it say I was doing anything illegal.

I always pictured the sisters snickering behind their office doors. "Young Jerz thinks he's hot stuff because he managed to get ahold of a stack of signed hall passes." (I used them to get out of class so that I could work on the sets for the theater productions, but of course the teachers wouldn't have let me out of class if they thought I would cause trouble or fall behind.)

Epstein makes a good point about the role of feelings in literary analysis. I always cringe when a student dismisses a text because "It didn't hold my interest."  (Bad book! How dare you challenge my world view or create an occasion to reflect on something outside my personal interests?)  Since Seton Hill University markets itself as a caring place, and I chose to work at an institution that would reward me for expressing a personal interest in my students, Epstein would probably see me as part of the problem that he's identifying here.

What do you think... does he go too far? Am I defending the coddled millennials because I identify more with them than I do with Epstein's generation?

The most impressive students I had over my 30 years of university teaching were those I encountered when I first began, in the early 1970s, who almost all turned out to have been put through Catholic schools, during a time when priests and nuns still taught and Catholic education hadn't become indistinguishable from secular education. Many of these kids resented what they felt was the excessive constraint, with an element of fear added, of their education. Most failed to realize that it was this very constraint--and maybe a touch of the fear, too--that forced them to learn Latin, to acquire and understand grammar, to pick up the rudiments of arguing well, that had made them as smart as they were.

So often in my literature classes students told me what they "felt" about a novel, or a particular character in a novel. I tried, ever so gently, to tell them that no one cared what they felt; the trick was to discover not one's feelings but what the author had put into the book, its moral weight and its resultant power. In essay courses, many of these same students turned in papers upon which I wished to--but did not--write: "D-, Too much love in the home." I knew where they came by their sense of their own deep significance and that this sense was utterly false to any conceivable reality. Despite what their parents had been telling them from the very outset of their lives, they were not significant. Significance has to be earned, and it is earned only through achievement.

The article made sure not to phrase the poetry lessons as punishment -- the one who actually bought the beer served a few days in jail. This sounds like a creative and proportional way to respond to the problem. USA Today (Thanks for the tip, Rosemary.)

More than two dozen young people who broke into Robert Frost's former home for a beer party and trashed the place are being required to take classes in his poetry as part of their punishment.