What's up with Worlde?

Lately I’ve blogged a lot on technology applications in the classroom. From texts to Twitter, YouTube to machinima, I have focused on a variety of applications that have potential in pedagogy. One web application I would love to incorporate into a lesson plan is Wordle. You can find it here:

http://www.wordle.net/

Visit the site; play around; use a paper written for a class to see what the results are. Wordle creates word clouds based on the text users input. The clouds are based on the frequency with which the data uses certain words. Words that are used often are made to stand out more; users of Wordle can alter the style of the word clouds: changing fonts, colors, layout, etc. Besides a really fancy tech-savvy way to bolster a PowerPoint, this application can help visual learners map their key ideas.

Instead of rereading a paper, outlining a thesis and topic sentences, graphing the trajectory of the paper, students can copy-paste their essays into Wordle and see what words they’re using most often. The implications of this are numerous: students can see which words they are repeating most often. If non-key terms appear large, the student may want to consider revising the essay with the notion to whittle those repetitions down; if key terms come up big, the student can compare which of those terms seem most important based on frequency and see if it aligns with the important words they wanted to use.

But those are just a couple examples; the benefits don’t end at editing. Students can analyze the rhetoric of a popular essay by using the essay as the data for Wordle’s word clouds. Instead of asking them to write an essay based on Swift’s “A Modest Proposal,” imagine what fun results pedagogues and students would come up with when they analyzed Wordle’s interpretation of Swift’s famous essay.

Viewing language as an art can be a difficult concept to convey, and Worlde can help. Students can step outside what they feel is stagnant text while staying within the confines of the course goals and aims of the discipline.

Utilitarianism in the Classroom

Last Friday I taught one of my favorite articles: Sirlin’s “Play to Win.” The class was learning arguments for position and had read the corresponding chapter in our Faigley rhetoric. The essay, which I found years ago, argues that when playing competitive games, players should be competitive. Sounds difficult, right? Well in gaming circles it can be difficult to convince players to “play to win” -- a lot more difficult than it sounds; but Sirlin handles the matter effectively. His article became so popular amongst the niche gaming culture that he was given a book deal. Before going further, here is the link to the first part of his argument (the only part we read in class):

http://www.sirlin.net/articles/playing-to-win-part-1.html

I preface the article with brief information on the world of competitive gaming (big LAN tournaments, cash prizes, team sponsors, etc.) and also show them this YouTube clip to get them whet:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7cW2nMf1gk

The clip shows a full parry (trust me, it is more impressive than most people realize) in a 2004 Street Fighter tournament. A packed crowd that erupts to the outcome of a video game helps alleviate any doubt about the veracity of my preface for students unfamiliar with the world of competitive gaming. Sirlin’s position is relevant even to non-gamers. I draw parallels to sports and board games; and because nearly everyone, at some point or another in their lives, has undertaken some competitive venture, they can relate.

Now, I could talk at length about why I like the article and how it matches suitably with teaching argument, but that is not what today’s particular blog entry is about. As the title indicates, utilitarianism is the focus here. My readers have probably gleaned my direction already: the article is not too popular amongst the females in the class. However, the males absolutely love it. I get more discussion out of the guys in the class period I teach this article than the entire rest of the year combined.

So that brings me to my question: Is it wise to practice utilitarianism in the classroom? Is alienating the females to entice the other gender to discuss the topic conscionable? Will men only participate when they’ve been given something they’re intimate with? Don’t misunderstand: in my mind, there is no reason for the women not to discuss Sirlin’s position; and this is not to say no females do discuss (or that males never discuss other topics), because they do; but rather, for the most part, the women remain silent while their counterparts come alive.

My female students are generally more talkative (in the interactive, discussion, good way) than my males, so I don’t feel too sore about serving a dish suited mainly to the menfolk once a semester. But I’m curious to hear feedback from my readers.

An Analogy for the Academe

As technology advances, the world turns flat and time becomes a coveted commodity. Acronyms and abbreviations become the norm world-round, but only certain ones have any commonality within the niche communities that use them. This is problematic. I noticed this first, years ago, when I saw a PSA concerning parental awareness about children chatting online. The commercial informed parents to get educated about their children’s e-activities and the danger of online predators. It listed a number of acronyms and their meaning: LOL (laugh out loud), other commonly known ones; but the final acronym was POS (parents over shoulder).

Woah, I thought. Since when did POS get turned into some covert signal to online friends to be on alert? I’m pretty positive everyone still thinks it means “piece of sh*t” and that no child has ever warned some predator to censor himself because the parents are looking over the kid’s shoulder. But like I said, it got me thinking.

Being active online for well over a decade has given me insight into niche community language. In order to keep afloat in the raging torrent of time sinks, every online community resorts to using acronyms or abbreviations unique to their topic matter; the brevity of communication is a life preserver. The subject matter of an MMORPG, for example, demands hundreds of acronyms/abbreviations: from the typically recognizable conversational to the esoteric and game-related. It is not uncommon to see entire conversational exchanges made in acronyms and abbreviations: “LF2M lock war 25man VoA” is a clear, concise meaning to somebody who plays World of Warcraft. To others, it is coded jibberish.

But the academe has a parallel, not in acronyms and abbreviations necessarily, but in scholarly discourse. To somebody outside the field of English, hearing two intellectuals discussing postmodernism versus poststructuralism as it pertains to Foucault would be as alien as reading the trade channel in WoW (assuming they didn’t play the game). As teachers, if we can create this analogy and utilize it effectively for our students, using whatever niche communities they may be familiar with, we can demystify some of the intrigue surrounding academic discourse and make them comfortable with approaching it. The secret to understanding is in the language.

Doc Cam

Dr. Cam? No. Document camera. Remember those old overhead projectors? Yeah, those ones that required transparencies and had the light bulb that always burned out. Yes, I mean the ones with those knobs the teachers always fiddled with to try to make it clearer; it was like a trip to the optometrist: “Is number one better, or number two? Number three, or four? Now, or now?” Well the document camera (or doc cam) is the younger, more debonair, sexy relative of the overhead projector.

Doc cams come standard in any SCSU “smart classroom” along with a vast array of other tech gadgets that make teaching easier (on both student and instructor). Perhaps one of the greatest benefits of the doc cam is that there is no prep involved in presenting material with it. What does this mean for the composition classroom? Quick, easy workshops of student writing: there is no need to make a transparency copy, or plan ahead. In-class writings go straight to the doc cam and can be presented, critiqued, admired, lampooned, etc. by the entire class.

But why is the ability to immediately workshop student writing critical in the composition classroom? Isn’t asking students to bring in multiple copies of their papers for a workshop good enough? The short answer is no. Not only does that require students to print more copies (save a tree in paper; use a forest in bandwidth), but it also inhibits the spontaneity of the endeavor. In order to obtain as early a draft as possible, we need to use writing taken immediately from the hands of the author.

If a student knows his or her paper is going to be reviewed in class, they may work more diligently at the assignment (which can be good). But to get a glimpse at unadulterated student writing, it needs to be handwritten – no word processors will meddle, no extra time to edit and review. Doc cams let a classroom look at writing in one of its earliest tangible phases and see the core, that central component of writing. Question minutiae: is that a random dribble of ink or a comma? Is that pair of words that sit close to one another supposed to be hyphenated or was it unintentional? The goal: get students thinking about their writing. Often times, it is difficult to know if a mark in their writing is a semicolon or period or comma or colon or what.

They may think that handwriting doesn’t matter; if the writing matters, they say, it will be done on a word processor. But it is my contention that handwriting is the extension of how words, sentences, paragraphs are viewed in the mind: what the brain sees, the hand writes. If composition teachers can use doc cams to get students to think critically of how they form their sentences, use their letters and punctuation, they can get them thinking about writing in progressive, process-oriented ways. And that’s one of the biggest goals we can aim for in composition.

YouTube as Writing Prompt

When I was in my undergraduate program, every writing prompt was given aloud, written on the board, or read on a slip of paper. It often dealt with reading the class had done (or was supposed to have done) for homework. The prompts, for me, were typically engaging; but I am not a typical student. I love English. Not so for most of the students in our Freshman Composition course. For them, I propose a more engaging alternative, one promoted by our tech-rich classrooms and the media-hungry youth: YouTube writing prompts.

But Cody, you might say, that is exactly what we are combating! We want them to read more, not watch YouTube. Yes and no, is my answer. Yes, we want them to read more – and they are still required to read the homework that leads up to the prompt. The contention that watching viral videos or clips from YouTube is infectious and erodes the ability to compose or comprehend is jibber jabber. Students, from my limited experience, have appreciated YouTube clips as a welcomed visual stimulus in an otherwise visual wasteland.

In addition to YouTube providing easy, quick access to video, the site allows students to critically engage the reading homework in an effort to draw connections to the clip shown. YouTube should be embraced by pedagogues as a welcomed relief: it takes the focus off the instructor for a brief period (which the students need on occasion) and allows the instructor to reflect or observe the class. Below I will give an example of one YouTube clip I use and its benefits:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNqAjquGadc

“The Life and Death of a Pumpkin” is both humorous and appropriate. I use it to teach personification to my classes: they are shown the video, given a brief description of the term, and told to personify a common object. Few tropes encourage such creativity and critical awareness as personification. Thinking about an inanimate object’s feelings, opinions, actions, etc. provides an outlet for “fun” non-academic writing and challenges the students as well.

Machinima Update

As my readers may have noticed, I haven’t quite kept up my plan of giving one weekly blog entry pertaining to my machinima creation goal. The biggest reason for this is that World of Warcraft had been performing less than smooth for me. Consistent, debilitating lag spikes made it next to impossible to even play the game, let alone film anything in it. After spending a lot of time talking with my more tech-savvy friends and tinkering with in-game settings (to no avail), I installed over-clocking software to see what temperature my video card was running. The answer: one hundred and twenty degrees Celsius. Oh my. Luckily silicon has a higher melting point than water does boiling point.

Now, my video card is relatively new – I purchased it this last summer when my other one overheated. Although the former card burned out, I had zero reason to think the new one would because my air conditioning unit was broken over the summer and my apartment was frequently 85-90 degrees Fahrenheit. So the old card had a good reason to overheat; the new card does not. After more consultation, the last ditch effort to remedy the heat situation (which I was informed was more than likely the cause of the previously unexplainable lag) was to clean my box.

Dust bunnies flew out of my tower like the timid creatures they are. I don’t mean to hyperbolize, but it seemed as though a cat had vomited in my computer. There was quite a bit of dust. After a thorough spritzing with canned air, I ran the software again to check the temperature: eighty five Celsius idle, and one hundred ten in game. Thankfully ten degrees makes a lot more difference in a computer than it sounds like it should. While the post-cleaned card still ran quite hot (my friend’s runs around sixty five idle), the lag issue was gone. Hurray!

With the system specs a bit old (I purchased the comp in 2003 as a high school graduation gift to myself) at 1.5gb RAM with a 3.0mhz processor, the only question remains whether my setup will be able to manage the very taxing process of Fraps’ing ( Fraps is the software used to film in the game) and rendering the movie. The only way to find out is to do it, and I guess that’s my next step. Hopefully I will find time this week to give it a try, but as I’ve contracted bronchitis, my readers may have to wait longer.

Texts and Tweets

I’ve never used Twitter. I dislike texting. Yet, the thought of using them in a classroom thrills me. Allow me to clarify. I know about Twitter (140 characters or less, sent as an update to a blog or profile, etc.) and I do actually text message – I’d just prefer to call. I hate having entire conversations over text. However, I see both of these technologies as wonderful opportunities to teach composition. Not only are students familiar with and using both (more so texts than tweets), but they can provide many strong lesson plans that focus on important aspects of the writing process.

Text messages get a bad rap. The media seems to have it out for them: every couple months I see an article or hear a news byte about how text messaging is destroying the youth’s grammar and mechanics. Anchors quote grumpy old retiring English profs about their opinion and get, inevitably, the same answer every time: kids don’t know squat. Well, guess what: curmudgeons have been saying that since time began – it is old folks’ right to complain, but that doesn’t mean they’re right, even if they are English teachers.

I read an interesting article in a recent issue of American Speech by Sali Tagliamonte and Derek Denis (two sociolinguists from U of Toronto) that contradicts the popular notion that text messaging, instant messaging, and all other SMS (synchronous messaging services) ruin the ability to write. You can find information on the article here:

http://americanspeech.dukejournals.org/cgi/content/short/83/1/3

The gist of it is that texting actually helps strengthen stylistic fluency and that there is nothing to fear. Fancy that. Hence, I intend to exercise the power of texting in class. While the lesson plan is still fluid, I will break my students into small groups and give each one a different passage from an essay in their reader, something short but potent. The groups will translate their passage into a text message and send it over to another group. After each group has received another group’s text-encrypted passage, they will have to translate the passage back into prose. I’ve no idea what to expect; my instincts tell me they will do a better job than the media might give them credit for.

Twitter, while untested (by me – I know a lot of TechRhet listserv folks use it pedagogically), has great potential to stress the need for conciseness. Some great lesson plans can be found in a limitation of 140 characters: the elimination of wordiness, the affordances in writing as well as the constraints. Students would try to write something (jury is out on what I’d have them write specifically) using Twitter restrictions. Now, I doubt I’d have them actually do either exercise on cell phones; it would be too distracting and logistically complicated (I wouldn’t force them to give other students their numbers). But by using the templates of each, it could provide interesting results. Below is a bit by the folks at Penny Arcade (my favorite web comic) on Twitter. Warning: Some NSFW language (in writing).

http://www.penny-arcade.com/comic/2008/4/23/

The F Word

Yes. The actual F word. Not some other word beginning with F that I have decided to call the F word in order to get your attention. The word arose over the weekend and got me thinking. I was home, in the cities, with my fiancé, at lunch with our mothers, before heading to the catering meeting for our wedding. Dawn, my future mother-in-law (not to be confused with Dawn, my mother – both share the name) was reading aloud from the caterer’s menu. She said something about “vegetables: chef’s choice,” and the word came up. Yes, I said it in front of my mother and future mother-in-law. Let me preface, to ease my ethos.

Certain things agitate me, some more than others. Some mundane, trivial, unimportant things lend rise to such indignation that I lash out at them. It is an issue I am working on. However, the idea of a chef picking the food (even a side dish, vegetables) on our wedding day infuriated me. I spoke on instinct, before I could catch my tongue or filter my language: “That’s fucking stupid,” I said to gasps from my audience. I felt like Ralphie in A Christmas Story dropping the lug nuts, only time didn’t slow down as I said it – it sped up. There were no repercussions; a quick chastising about picking my battles, an apology from me, and all was well.

My parents are fairly conservative when it comes to swearing. After the incident I raised the topic with my parents and was informed that when they were growing up only sailors and criminals used the F word. Needless to say, America today views the word quite differently. In fact, the whole situation made me think of a YouTube video I once saw, which I will post below after warning my readers that the content is definitely Not Safe For Work (NSFW): it repeats the word often throughout the two and a half minute clip. You can find it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCcCzj_yRtk

The tone of the video is noteworthy: the educational voice over black and white images gives it the sense of a war propaganda movie; but more importantly are the misspelled words throughout. Even as the voiceover expertly explicates the multi-modal uses of the flexible F word, the text contradicts the authority by showing words like: centence, disatisfaction, and incompitance. So when the voice instructs the viewer to use the word more often, saying “it will identify the quality of your character immediately” the tone is clarified as ironic (had the content not already proven otherwise).

One of the curiosities of the video is the etymology of the F word, which the viewer is told derives from the German word frichen, to strike. I had always heard that the word was an acronym Fornication Under Carnal Knowledge – but that could very easily be an urban legend (no entry in Snopes to verify it). The video, and the incident earlier, made me wonder what freshman would think if shown the YouTube. Would they catch the misspellings? Would they be offended? Would they think people say the F word nowadays too much? Or is it part of modern colloquial English? If nothing else, it would be interesting examining the flexibility of the word as explained in the video. It could provide a good grammar lesson.