Traditional pedagogy is premised on a belief that older generations teach younger generations how to learn. At this point in history, however, through their ubiquitous exposure to media, technology, and communication, younger generations understand contemporary forms of communication better and more tacitly than older generations. Yet schooling lags behind advances in communication and technologies, clinging to a concept that older generations still impart knowledge to prepare younger generations for the future. Jake Telluci (2007), a participant in our research study on marketplace production, articulated this discrepancy well, when he said, “It’s about when technology is in the hands of people, they will often just do things with it.” In this chapter, I argue that unveiling new media and digital technologies production practices exposes a logic and language that better serve as a contemporary model of learning. The process of adopting new media is iterative and cyclical in that meaning-makers pick up new media production practices, remix them, and make them their own. Forging a twenty-first century identity entails reappropriating practices and texts consumed on a daily basis.
There is nothing new in the role popular culture plays in issues of young people and identity. Few people reading this chapter did not, at some point, present their identities or claim their affiliations through displays of popular culture content or preferences. Beatles or Rolling Stones? Tupac or Biggie? Star Wars or Star Trek? Halo or World of Warcraft? Sex in the City or Grey’s Anatomy? We have all argued, shared, reminisced, disdained, or delighted in performing our identities through popular culture and using it to gauge potential friends or possible adversaries.
I don’t want to feel out of place (pauses, searching for the “right” words). I don’t want to have my difference hinder me. But, help me if anything. So, I want to express myself so they can understand me—so, that I can communicate.
But, in Jamaica, when I was a little kid, you always heard crazy little things when you’re a kid (laughs). And, you’re like: “Oh, they act like this, and they do this. They’re so silly: They spell color without the u.” And they didn’t necessarily seem to make it a bad thing to be that way, but it was understood that we were different.
And, I liked being different. I liked being Jamaican.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto”1—a statement Dorothy made to her dog, Toto, in The Wizard of Oz—sums up reasonably well the point I want to make in this article. That is, as literacy educators no longer con-strained (or protected) by older, more familiar 20th-century print-centric modes of communicating, we may at times feel challenged to keep pace with students’ preferences for producing and learning with multimodal texts that combine moving and still images, sounds, performances, icons, symbols, and the like. Often digitally mediated, these texts are familiar and freely available to youth who have access to the Internet. Indeed, a small but growing body of research suggests that young people’s ways of telling, listening, viewing, and thinking in digital environments may fac-tor into their self-identifying as literate beings (e.g., Alvermann, 2010; Livingstone, Bober, & Helsper, 2005; Ito et al., 2008; McClenaghan & Doecke, 2010; Rennie & Patterson, 2010; Skinner & Hagood, 2008; Thomas, 2007; Walsh, 2008). Although this research on young people’s online literate identities has implications for classroom practice, the liter-ature remains largely untapped by teachers, school library media special-ists, and literacy teacher educators. Why is this so? Just as importantly, what does this literature have to offer?
Just as a child who has learned to grasp stretches out its hand for the moon as it would for a ball, so humanity, in all its efforts at innervation, sets its sights as much on currently utopian goals as on goals within reach. Because . . . technology aims at liberating human beings from drudgery, the individual suddenly sees his scope for play, his field of action, immeasurably expanded. He does not yet know his way around this space. But already he reg-isters his demands on it. (Benjamin, 1936/2008, p. 242)
In the past fifteen years, there has been a shift in the way researchers have conceptualized identity, moving from the “identity-as-thing” to an under-standing of “identity-in-practice” (Leander, 2002, 198–199). This is not necessarily a new concept, as earlier researchers recognized sociocultural influences on perception (Bartlett, 1932/1995; Vygotsky, 1978) and on the performative nature of identity (Butler, 1990; Goffman, 1959). New Literacy Studies theorists (Barton, 1994, 2001; Gee, 1996, 2000; Street 1995, 1999) began to examine identity-in-practice in relation to literacy. In addition, ethnographic accounts (Heath, 1983; Purcell-Gates, 1997; Taylor, 1983; Taylor & Dorsey-Gaines, 1988) began to document ways that literacies and identities were interconnected. There was an epistemolog-ical shift, underscoring the individual and community practices that help to shape one’s identity. Literacies included all activities inside and out-side school, highlighting the relationship between people’s literacy prac-tices and their situated actions, behaviors, beliefs, and values, or their Discourses (Gee, 1999, 2008, 2011).
Pofessional development should be an ongoing endeavor for all faculty members because their growth as instructors has a profound impact on their students. There are always opportunities for improvement, new teaching techniques to learn and master, and experiences to share with colleagues.
This is why we have created this special report. Whether your institution has extensive, well-funded faculty development initiatives or you operate on a shoestring, I’m sure you will find some useful information in this special report to help with your faculty develop-ment efforts.
The articles, compiled from The Teaching Professor and Academic Leader, offer inspira-tion and practical (and often inexpensive) ways to accomplish the goal of improved teaching and learning.
In the traditional college classroom today, faculty and students arrive with a certain set of expectations, shaped largely by past experiences. And although students may need the occa-sional (or perhaps frequent) reminder of what’s required of them, there’s usually something very familiar about the experience for both faculty and students alike.
In the online classroom, an entirely new set of variables enters the equation. It’s a little like trying to drive in a foreign country. You know how to drive, just like you know how to teach, but it sure is hard to get the hang of driving on the left side of the road, you’re not quite sure how far a kilometer is, and darn it if those road signs aren’t all in Japanese.
Effective classroom management is much more than just administering corrective measures when a student misbehaves; it's about developing proactive ways to prevent problems from occurring in the first place while creating a positive learning environment.
Establishing that climate for learning is one of the most challenging aspects of teaching, and one of the most difficult skills to master. For those new to the profession, failure to set the right tone will greatly hinder your effectiveness as a teacher. Indeed, even experienced faculty may sometimes feel frustrated by classroom management issues. Strategies that worked for years suddenly become ineffective in the face of some of the challenges today’s students bring with them to the classroom.
When Canada was created in 1867, the churches were already operating a small num-ber of boarding schools for Aboriginal people. In the coming years, Roman Catholic and Protestant missionaries established missions and small boarding schools throughout the West. The relationship between the government and the churches was formalized in 1883 when the federal government decided to establish three large residential schools in west-ern Canada.
Since 1981 the Canadian Federation of Students has been the progressive and democratic voice of Canada’s college and university students. Today the Federation comprises over 400,000 graduate, undergraduate and college students from over 60 students’ unions from Newfoundland and Labrador to British Columbia.
On October 17 1990, the members of the Canadian Federation of Students presented the first edition of its alternative funding model for post-secondary education. The proposal, entitled Strategy for Change, articulated students’ concerns about public funding for post-secondary education, as well as problems with federal student financial assistance programs.
In the intervening seventeen years since the first version of this document was published, federal funding and student aid policies have changed substantially, as have many provincial approaches to post-secondary education. Perhaps the single over arching trend is the federal government’s retreat from a leadership role in broad higher education policy.
Over the last twenty years, the public—through the federal government—has spent an increasing amount of money on student financial aid and education-related financial incentives. Driven by rising tuition and ancillary fees (coupled with stagnant middle-income earnings), the cost of pursuing post-secondary education has led an increasing number of low- and middle-income Canadians to rely on these programs. Each developed separately and at different times, the Canada Student Loans Program (CSLP), Canada Student Grants Program (CSGP), Registered Education Savings Plan (RESP), and education-related tax credits (Education and Tuition Fee Tax Credits [TFTC] and Student Loan Interest Credits [SLIC]) now cost the public over $4.2 billion each year, with an additional $2.5 billion given out in loans.
March 6, 2014, Toronto350, the University of Toronto chapter of the larger 350.org movement, presented the Office of the President with a petition requesting that the Uni- versity of Toronto fully divest from direct investments1 in fossil fuels companies within the next five years and to stop investing new money in the industry [the “Petition”].2 In response to this petition, President Gertler struck an ad hoc Advisory Committee on Divestment from Fossil Fuels [the “Committee”] under the terms of the University’s Policy on Social and Political Issues With Respect to University Divestment [the “Policy”]. The Committee’s mandate was to review the Petition and accompanying brief, and consider the University’s response to the call
for divestment. The Committee was also invited to reflect more generally on the University’s role in responding to the challenges posed by climate change.
Post-secondary education is effectively a requirement to succeed in today’s labour market. Unfortunately, while the demand for education has increased, public funding has failed to keep up. Public funding shortfalls have resulted in a significant growth of costs that have been downloaded onto individual students, namely in the form of high tuition fees. From 1990 to 2014, national average tuition fees have seen an inflation-adjusted increase of over 155%. In Ontario, tuition fees have increased over 180%.
The University of Toronto serves a large and diverse student population and is dedicated to fostering an academic community that allows its students to thrive. The University environment is one that is both stimulating and demanding at every stage, from transition to the learning and social environment, through to graduation.
Student health and well-being has become a prime consideration in post-secondary institutions. While the majority of students flourish during these years, many others experience mental health challenges that may put them at risk. The mental health continuum can range from healthy and flourishing behaviour where students are comfortable, confident and capable of performing, to situations that create anxiety and stress, to clinical disorders that persist and impair ability to function in a safe and productive manner.
Australia’s vocational education sector is a mess. Tightening regulation and tweaking some of the settings will contain the damage, but these measures alone will not address deeper problems in the sector. Real, sustained improvement requires rethinking the funding and regulatory models but also the purpose and idea of vocational education.
Attainment of a post-secondary education has become a prerequisite to participate in the Canadian workforce. This shift was precipitated by a recession that resulted in the near-collapse of Canada’s manufacturing sector, but it reflects a broader shift that has been happening for the past two decades in Canada and around the world.
Public post-secondary institutions are responsible for delivering both high-quality education and research in the public interest. This responsibility requires the right for academic researchers to exercise independent inquiry that is free of influence or restrictions from both the government and private industry.
Over the last two decades, there has been increasing pressure from the private sector to re-shape the mission of the university to be more closely aligned with the needs of business. In the area of university research, this has led to a premium placed on research commercialisation. This shift in focus of publicly-funded institutions is a significant departure from the academic principle of independence on which universities have operated for centuries.
For over a century, the central goals of Canada’s Aboriginal policy were to eliminate riginal rights; terminate the Treaties; and,
to cease to exist as distinct nd operation of residential schools were a central element of this policy, which can best be
described as “cultural genocide.”
Physical genocide is the mass killing of the members of a targeted group, and biological
genocide is the destruction of the group’s reproductive capacity. Cultural genocide is the
destruction of those structures and practices that allow the group to continue as a group. States
that engage in cultural genocide set out to destroy the political and social institutions of the
targeted group. Land is seized, and populations are forcibly transferred and their movement is
restricted. Languages are banned. Spiritual leaders are persecuted, spiritual practices are
forbidden, and objects of spiritual value are confiscated and destroyed. And, most significantly to
the issue at hand, families are disrupted to prevent the transmission
of cultural values and identity from one generation to the next.