So, what do you think of technology?

Technology as a (fun) one-way street

When I called a few third period students to a huddle in the last two minutes before the bell rang, I wasn't expecting them to be so interested in talking about their technology use. They weren't bubbly; they weren't chatty; they were so darn serious. It's like they were at the doctor's office, giving answers to questions that would determine whether they were going to die from malaria.

For kids who habitually and spontaneously burst out with odes of love for Instragram ("Do you have an account, Ms. Cash?"), they become all kinds of stoic when talking about technology in the context of school. It's not that they didn't want to answer the questions: they just seemed anxious and quiet, almost as if they were concerned about giving the right answers. Some have computers at home; some don't. Some have cell or smart phones; others didn't. The only consistent element among all the students is that technology at school is compulsory, unexciting, not theirs. Technology outside of school, when they can get it, is the best thing in the world (Assassin's Creed IV has begun to come up even more than the latest 49'ers game).

The main difference, it seems, between how adults/ teachers and kids/students think about technology is how focused the students are. Technology for them is fun. It's video games, apps, social media. They see technology as a one-way street, and perhaps because of that, they are able to focus on all of the unexpected joys they stumble upon ("Oh my gosh Ms. Cash look at this picture my friend just uploaded!") while we adults are left wringing our hands and asking questions like "Are we using technology enough? Are we using it too much? I should really spend less time on the computer. I should really spend the next four hours lesson planning on my iPad. Will technology destroy our civilization? Can I afford the new iPhone?" And on and on...

I like the simplicity that students treat technology with. But I also want to equip them with the skills to use technology healthfully and productively as adults. Perhaps as I figure out how to help them, I will learn some of their joy and curiosity.

A Vision of Technology

Coming from a Classics background means two things for me. First, I love books. Second, I

Technology as Reluctance

will fight a mother grizzly bear to the death to defend paper texts against electronic ones.

Though I never would have expected that even while I am still in my 20's I would be closer to my great-grandmother's perspective on technology than that of the junior high and high school students who use iPods, iPads, iPhones, and iMacs with breezy ease, I still rode the technology tide well into my adulthood. I have a MacBook and an iPhone. I've taken university classes entirely online. I'm even considering purchasing an iPad this year.

But there is an increasingly powerful fire inside me that propels me in the opposite direction of change and the technological coattails it usually rides.

The smell of an old tome of Keats poems, the rough yet gentle feel of an old edition of Homeric hymns, and the absolutely sensual joy of a mug of tea singing my left hand while my right hand strains to hold open a paperweight-sized novel is nothing short of addicting.

For some reason, I just can't find that kind of gratifying addiction in technological mediums.

As a teacher in training, technology is proving to be a small but unremitting stumbling block. Prezis, PowerPoints, and GoogleDocs—the effectiveness of these I can attest to. But crafting lesson plans that can be delivered via an iPad connected to a screen that is aligned with Apple TV? In some ways, I'd be better suited to regress to a chalkboard and a wooden pointing stick.

Perhaps technology continues to be a thorn in my side because of all the new masteries I must achieve as a classroom teacher—content, management, resources—the scariest and most unfamiliar to me are the shiny new tools being produced with alarming speed by the educational technology industry.

Technology, I think, gives me the closest sense of what my students are going through in the learning anxiety they feel. 

My vision of technology in education, then, is blurry at this point and is made up mostly of vague hopes. 

• I hope that the technology in my classroom will increase the curiosity, comfort, and courage of me and of my students. 
• I hope that it will connect us to each other and to the world. 
• I hope that it will gives us mediums of self-expression that we only dreamt of in our pervious paper-and-pencil world. 
• I hope that it becomes an art form and a skill set owned by, rather than owning, young students, old teachers, and everyone in between.