Wednesday, April 29, 2009
The Fire Sermon
This is my PowerPoint made for a dramatic reading of "The Fire Sermon" from T.S. Elliot's "The Wasteland." I selected images with a mind for two things: reflecting the allusions as explained in the Norton Critical Edition. The background on the slides is one of Elliot's drafts of "The Fire Sermon. I originally made the PowerPoint on the Open Office presentation software and converted it to a PowerPoint format. The result is what you see here. I thought it was well-made.
The Fire Sermon
Check out this SlideShare Presentation:
The Fire Sermon
View more presentations from himmelsgrau.
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Devil in the Details
'Powerpointlessness,' comes somewhat close to being an un-word in the fine German tradition of nominating the most infamous word of any given year. Certainly by degree it does not rank with such concepts as "ethnic cleansing" or "collateral damage" (both one word in German) in infamy, but somewhere in the lower echelons of mediocrity and imprecision, I feel like you will find this word lurking.
The idea behind the word is surely to suggest that much of the activity done under the guise of making a PowerPoint presentation is a gimmick and shoddy work. Two wrongs, however do not make a right. 'Powerpointlessness' is a catchy catch-all with all the precision and subtly of an atom bomb used to eradicate an anthill in your backyard.
Now, the concepts behind a word can lend it some utility, but if I have to stop and explain that by 'powerpointlessness' I mean that when students, teachers, and other professionals use a PowerPoint presentation they often err in multiple ways: cluttering their slides with stock images, sounds, animations and videos that amount to so much sound and fury, signifying nothing, then you have lost the battle. There are any number of things that can and do go wrong with a PowerPoint slide show as it relates to the classroom.
Beyond indicating there is a problem, 'Powerpointlessness' as a concept does not point to a solution, per se. It reminds me of the people who tell me the political system is 'broken.'
Yawn.
The political system is broken, as my friends say, but talk is cheap--to use another well-worn phrase. My question is: if Jamie McKenzie feels that the well-placed image or graphic that serves the point of the presentation is what differentiates the 'powerpointless' from the 'powerpointed,' how does he stack up in his article?
In the credits, McKenzie claims to have shot all the photographs--except the one's he attributed to other sources, I might add. In any case, few of his images seem "powerful." 'Functional' is the word I would use. They are certainly more striking than clip-art, but leave something to be desired. The man next to 'deliver dramatically' looks dramatic, were his face not something of a low-resolution blur. The diagram with antidotes for 'powerpoint poisoning' was legible, but managed to look cluttered, nonetheless. As a centerpiece with internal links to the rest of the article, it needed a bit more polish, I feel. I could not click on every bubble and get a response. The introductiory image with the frosted-abstracted poppy and surrounding flowers did not distract from--or relate to--the article's topic particularly, unless his goal was to have a solid image that did not call too much attention to itself. Shame on him for the little clip-art photographer under "Emphasize Ideas & Logic." Sure he was a sidelight, and that was probably the point the author wanted to make, but McKenzie does not transcend that creeping feeling that I am encountering gimmicks, no matter how thoughtful they are.
McKenzie seems to be confused about the idea of 'deconstruction.' Every work of art or cultural product, according to that theory, deconstructs itself and the knowledge it communicates. A better designed PowerPoint presentation will not seal up the aporia it contains even if it tightens the coherency of the presentation considerably, which is admirable.
McKenzie at his finest--or worst is section 'Eliminate Distractions' in which he inserts a graphic of the word 'flash' randomly to show how frills are distracting from content. He willfully participates in the activities that make or break PowerPoints, and some of them fall on both sides of the spectrum. It took guts to try to lead by example, but sometimes, he falls short as we all do.
I agree with McKenzie's call to show our students that we can do better than the nonsense that usually slips under the radar of our schools, colleges, graduate schools, and businesses. There is good in McKenzie's article, to be sure.
In my senior seminar class, I participated in a group that packed dense quotes and sentences with pop-in transitions and few images into a turgid PowerPoint I would rather forget. All the right ideas were there, but they were not sufficiently summarized, organized, and thought about.
By contrast, my PowerPoint on "The Fire Sermon" from T.S. Elliot's the Wasteland for my most recent English class, struck me as well-executed. Minimal, targeted quotes with carefully selected images to accompany them enhanced our group presentation of the section.
In addition to leading by example, teachers can clearly state objectives and criteria for PowerPoint grading, as McKenzie suggests. In addition, I feel that actually demonstrating features of PowerPoint will improve the quality of student and professional work using the program.
Accurately conveying meaning, as I have already argued, requires a mastery of the medium and its conventions, without which knowledge is powerless, and, yes, pointless.
The idea behind the word is surely to suggest that much of the activity done under the guise of making a PowerPoint presentation is a gimmick and shoddy work. Two wrongs, however do not make a right. 'Powerpointlessness' is a catchy catch-all with all the precision and subtly of an atom bomb used to eradicate an anthill in your backyard.
Now, the concepts behind a word can lend it some utility, but if I have to stop and explain that by 'powerpointlessness' I mean that when students, teachers, and other professionals use a PowerPoint presentation they often err in multiple ways: cluttering their slides with stock images, sounds, animations and videos that amount to so much sound and fury, signifying nothing, then you have lost the battle. There are any number of things that can and do go wrong with a PowerPoint slide show as it relates to the classroom.
Beyond indicating there is a problem, 'Powerpointlessness' as a concept does not point to a solution, per se. It reminds me of the people who tell me the political system is 'broken.'
Yawn.
The political system is broken, as my friends say, but talk is cheap--to use another well-worn phrase. My question is: if Jamie McKenzie feels that the well-placed image or graphic that serves the point of the presentation is what differentiates the 'powerpointless' from the 'powerpointed,' how does he stack up in his article?
In the credits, McKenzie claims to have shot all the photographs--except the one's he attributed to other sources, I might add. In any case, few of his images seem "powerful." 'Functional' is the word I would use. They are certainly more striking than clip-art, but leave something to be desired. The man next to 'deliver dramatically' looks dramatic, were his face not something of a low-resolution blur. The diagram with antidotes for 'powerpoint poisoning' was legible, but managed to look cluttered, nonetheless. As a centerpiece with internal links to the rest of the article, it needed a bit more polish, I feel. I could not click on every bubble and get a response. The introductiory image with the frosted-abstracted poppy and surrounding flowers did not distract from--or relate to--the article's topic particularly, unless his goal was to have a solid image that did not call too much attention to itself. Shame on him for the little clip-art photographer under "Emphasize Ideas & Logic." Sure he was a sidelight, and that was probably the point the author wanted to make, but McKenzie does not transcend that creeping feeling that I am encountering gimmicks, no matter how thoughtful they are.
McKenzie seems to be confused about the idea of 'deconstruction.' Every work of art or cultural product, according to that theory, deconstructs itself and the knowledge it communicates. A better designed PowerPoint presentation will not seal up the aporia it contains even if it tightens the coherency of the presentation considerably, which is admirable.
McKenzie at his finest--or worst is section 'Eliminate Distractions' in which he inserts a graphic of the word 'flash' randomly to show how frills are distracting from content. He willfully participates in the activities that make or break PowerPoints, and some of them fall on both sides of the spectrum. It took guts to try to lead by example, but sometimes, he falls short as we all do.
I agree with McKenzie's call to show our students that we can do better than the nonsense that usually slips under the radar of our schools, colleges, graduate schools, and businesses. There is good in McKenzie's article, to be sure.
In my senior seminar class, I participated in a group that packed dense quotes and sentences with pop-in transitions and few images into a turgid PowerPoint I would rather forget. All the right ideas were there, but they were not sufficiently summarized, organized, and thought about.
By contrast, my PowerPoint on "The Fire Sermon" from T.S. Elliot's the Wasteland for my most recent English class, struck me as well-executed. Minimal, targeted quotes with carefully selected images to accompany them enhanced our group presentation of the section.
In addition to leading by example, teachers can clearly state objectives and criteria for PowerPoint grading, as McKenzie suggests. In addition, I feel that actually demonstrating features of PowerPoint will improve the quality of student and professional work using the program.
Accurately conveying meaning, as I have already argued, requires a mastery of the medium and its conventions, without which knowledge is powerless, and, yes, pointless.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Summary
I like long posts.
It is alluring to have the open field of white cyberspace in which to place whatever I want. Writing is something of an act of good faith that there are--or could be--what Stephen King calls "constant readers."
In an attempt to respect the "constant readers'" time, I present a summary of the previous 2.5 entries:
Technology is a lot of fun, presents multiple opportunities, and is a tool to serve one's personal and professional needs. It cannot replace personal interaction during trying times, but can facilitate it by enabling coordination and communication. Finally, the open field of white space--also known as infinite, illusory space in the previous entry--gives the student or teacher enormous creativity and versatility to format information. In formatting this information, however, the student or teacher must be aware that the technology itself (as a medium) shapes the way the information appears to outside observers.
This is a short post, for those constant readers that appreciate brevity.
It is alluring to have the open field of white cyberspace in which to place whatever I want. Writing is something of an act of good faith that there are--or could be--what Stephen King calls "constant readers."
In an attempt to respect the "constant readers'" time, I present a summary of the previous 2.5 entries:
Technology is a lot of fun, presents multiple opportunities, and is a tool to serve one's personal and professional needs. It cannot replace personal interaction during trying times, but can facilitate it by enabling coordination and communication. Finally, the open field of white space--also known as infinite, illusory space in the previous entry--gives the student or teacher enormous creativity and versatility to format information. In formatting this information, however, the student or teacher must be aware that the technology itself (as a medium) shapes the way the information appears to outside observers.
This is a short post, for those constant readers that appreciate brevity.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Infinite-Illusory Space
I went walking under the "Cloud Gate" (affectionately known as "The Bean") in Chicago's Millennium Park and took the picture you see here.
I called it by the pretentious or 'cool' (to my mind) title: "Infinite Illusory Space." More on that in a moment.
http://www.education-world.com/a_tech/techtorial/techtorial011c.shtml
and
http://eduscapes.com/tap/topic69.htm
both reference Bloom's taxonomy which proposes types or aspects of learning. The former suggests that these aspects of learning can be addressed by technology in the classroom.
Bloom's Taxonomy involves knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation--all of which influence the affective domain, which is a technical name for the space in which we live life. "Interpersonal relations, emotions, attitudes, appreciations, and values" color our perception of the world and are cultivated--if they are intentionally cultivated at all--by what we know, understand, act on, analyze, combine with other information, and assess.
On http://www.education-world.com/a_tech/techtorial/techtorial011c.shtml, the authors suggest that "Technology, however, lends itself to all six levels of thinking and learning" included in Bloom's Taxonomy.
In my experience technology performs this gargantuan task by being something of its own problem--and I mean this in the most affectionate way possible.
My picture resulted from such a problem.
In our group of 4, three of us had digital cameras. Two of the cameras used AA rechargeable batteries. The trouble with rechargeable batteries is that they last for a limited number of charges before they no longer hold their charge. I had forgotten my SD card for my camera, besides having rechargeable batteries at the end of their usefulness. The third camera had a special battery, but when its owner dropped it, the zoom mechanism broke, rendering the camera useless.
The medium in which we were to capture our trip to convey information about it to our friends was endangered by problems with the technology that enabled it.
A trip to a downtown Target store and some purchases later, we were able to continue to document our adventure downtown via photos. Doing so, however, required not only the proper equipment (batteries, working cameras, SD cards), but also knowledge of how the equipment and medium related to one another. In sum: synthesis, knowledge, evaluation, and application of information from the location of a Target store to the workings of digital cameras allowed for a felicitous outcome.
Technology is a means for discovering information: such as through the internet, but also for synthesizing, comprehending, applying, and understanding information.
Technology provides media for each of these. My camera allowed me to explore Chicago in a certain way (paying attention to the visual aspects of the city and capturing them for further reflection). I discovered the identities of certain buildings that I found particularly photogenic, applied knowledge of techniques gained from photographing other structures, and so on.
I argue that technology allows for critical thinking by opening possibilities or spaces for exploration. A student taking a picture of the "Cloud Gate" might gain approximately the same knowledge from that activity as they would from reading a description of the sculpture: "the Cloud Gate is a curved, polished mirror reflecting the skyline of Chicago whose underside warps images into reflections of reflections," but the medium of this knowledge remains distinct. Knowledge, whether conveyed in print (electronic or paper), audio, or image form, is conveyed through a medium and reported to others in a different medium. Technology challenges students to gather information from various media and put it into other media in a synthesized, analyzed, or otherwise critically processed form.
In a sense, technology is about creating an "infinite-illusory space" for information. The combination and recombination of information in different media, viewed from different perspectives, gives students tremendous flexibility in how they arrive at and explore information critically. I call this space illusory because it simply looks infinite. It is not. There are ways of critically analyzing information that are more acceptable than others. My photo is a reproduction of many reflections of the same scene in the surface of the "Bean." Technological media function similarly to show the same information from a variety of perspectives and in a variety of ways.
In a nutshell: technology helps critical thinking by giving students more tools to process information with.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
An Interlude
I met with a friend face-to-face yesterday.
Alerted by his/her profile picture on a social networking site, I shot off a reply to his/her new picture asking for clarification.
S/he declined, until I met with him/her in person, to divulge what happened.
And she/he was right, I believe.
Though the news disseminated to his/her circle of friends via text-messaging and telephone calls, and an event announced on the networking site, I feel that certain situations call for a presence and support not transmittable remotely. Technology enables organization and coordination of, but not substitution for personal interaction face-to-face--not yet.
Alerted by his/her profile picture on a social networking site, I shot off a reply to his/her new picture asking for clarification.
S/he declined, until I met with him/her in person, to divulge what happened.
And she/he was right, I believe.
Though the news disseminated to his/her circle of friends via text-messaging and telephone calls, and an event announced on the networking site, I feel that certain situations call for a presence and support not transmittable remotely. Technology enables organization and coordination of, but not substitution for personal interaction face-to-face--not yet.
Monday, April 13, 2009
On Hijacking a Teacher
Blogs can be anemic self-disclosure censored by the drive toward privacy and vague fears of identity theft. While I would like to claim that I do not fall prey to such concerns, I cannot.
I can, however, avoid the trend toward anemic self-disclosure masked behind pseudonyms and vagaries. Personal affairs can inform blogging, however--and they should. But they should not hijack it. You do not want to know that my ear itches and I went to the doctor about it once, or that I have fish that are fighting over food in an aquarium to my right. This blog is about educational technology, not medical complaints, my fishes' Darwinian struggle for resources, or my favorite things to teach, necessarily.
Personal affairs certainly inform blogs (and teaching too), but they should not hijack it. I love to talk about philosophy and literature, but I teach German grammar and vocabulary currently. If I tried to sneak philosophy and literature into my class in ways that do not service learning grammar and vocabulary, then my interests have hijacked my teaching. If I try to sneak a comment about how Kafka is an excellent short story writer into a blog on technology, my interests have hijacked my blog.
Speaking of hijacking, though: technology can hijack a teacher--easily. The point of teaching is not technology any more than the point of this blog is to vent personal loves and hates.
For example: I adore Rosetta Stone (an immersions-style language-learning software program). I wish I could buy it and that all my students could use it, and I could roam around and direct the class via answering individual questions. I would be a linguist-computer guru. That would be excellent. It would also be a pipe-dream because of the buzz-word: 'budget.' The money simply is not there. A handful of 20 Dollar Textbooks was a daring request. It is naive to think that because I could not afford to buy everyone Rosetta Stone, that I could not do a good job teaching my students German. To the contrary, if I do not effectively incorporate Rosetta Stone, or a textbook, or any other teaching tool into the classroom, then I could fail with my 500 dollar-a-copy Rosetta Stone German software as easily as with my 20-dollar-a-copy Schaum's Outline of German Grammar.
Nothing is a quick fix without effective implementation.
I use technology daily, imbibing it like water. I have a computer that can burn my iTunes mixes for use on my car-trips to and from school. Two iPod nanos (since the old one was outmoded by newer models) make sure I can have my music where ever I go if I so choose. My Xbox 360 and Wii and Nintendo DS take advantage of my Wireless hub to download and play game content, and if I choose, my computer can run many games as well.
You will have noticed, as astute readers, all the things I can do with my technology. I am comfortable using all of these gadgets and more, but what I do do with them varies from what I can do.
I use my computer for the Internet. As a student, I can check facts that I am familiar with, but do not have entirely committed to memory. I especially cherish the ability to find the locations of passages from the extensive amount of literature (I find it extensive, at any rate; extensive is not exhaustive, unfortunately) for use in papers.
I entered into the technological era hesitantly, if readers can believe that, given the extensive amount of technology (again: for me, it seems extensive) I possess. I am not a Luddite, but I would not have bought an Xbox 360 if my friends had not promised that we could socialize, scattered to the four winds as we are, over its voice-chat and online game play. My computer, I got for professional, scholarly, and personal reasons. The latter mirror the reasons for owning an XBox 360: the promise of keeping in touch with friends in other states an countries easily and conveniently.
Professionally, I do prefer carrying an iPod and speakers to class rather than a boombox for German listening exercises. If I had a laptop, I would likewise prefer that to carrying mounds of notes and paper to and fro.
I might miss paper, until I look at the clutter of my office-bedroom. I'd rather have that info backed up on an SD card than on my floor or in filing boxes. 1" x 1.5" SD cards are a lot easier to store. Nonetheless, if I get lonely for paper, there is always my black and white/color printer-fax-scanner to keep me company (it was only 99 dollars; 7 years ago that bought me a printer. Period).
I am enrolled in a class on educational technology, and I really hope that I learn from it not to be hijacked. For that to be the case, of course, the class itself cannot already be hijacked by technology. I grant that technology is neat, fascinating, convenient, and other superlatives, but all of that is a means to an end. I want this class to help clarify what that end is: technology 'hijacked' by effective teaching. If it shows me what that looks like, then I am all in favor.
I can, however, avoid the trend toward anemic self-disclosure masked behind pseudonyms and vagaries. Personal affairs can inform blogging, however--and they should. But they should not hijack it. You do not want to know that my ear itches and I went to the doctor about it once, or that I have fish that are fighting over food in an aquarium to my right. This blog is about educational technology, not medical complaints, my fishes' Darwinian struggle for resources, or my favorite things to teach, necessarily.
Personal affairs certainly inform blogs (and teaching too), but they should not hijack it. I love to talk about philosophy and literature, but I teach German grammar and vocabulary currently. If I tried to sneak philosophy and literature into my class in ways that do not service learning grammar and vocabulary, then my interests have hijacked my teaching. If I try to sneak a comment about how Kafka is an excellent short story writer into a blog on technology, my interests have hijacked my blog.
Speaking of hijacking, though: technology can hijack a teacher--easily. The point of teaching is not technology any more than the point of this blog is to vent personal loves and hates.
For example: I adore Rosetta Stone (an immersions-style language-learning software program). I wish I could buy it and that all my students could use it, and I could roam around and direct the class via answering individual questions. I would be a linguist-computer guru. That would be excellent. It would also be a pipe-dream because of the buzz-word: 'budget.' The money simply is not there. A handful of 20 Dollar Textbooks was a daring request. It is naive to think that because I could not afford to buy everyone Rosetta Stone, that I could not do a good job teaching my students German. To the contrary, if I do not effectively incorporate Rosetta Stone, or a textbook, or any other teaching tool into the classroom, then I could fail with my 500 dollar-a-copy Rosetta Stone German software as easily as with my 20-dollar-a-copy Schaum's Outline of German Grammar.
Nothing is a quick fix without effective implementation.
I use technology daily, imbibing it like water. I have a computer that can burn my iTunes mixes for use on my car-trips to and from school. Two iPod nanos (since the old one was outmoded by newer models) make sure I can have my music where ever I go if I so choose. My Xbox 360 and Wii and Nintendo DS take advantage of my Wireless hub to download and play game content, and if I choose, my computer can run many games as well.
You will have noticed, as astute readers, all the things I can do with my technology. I am comfortable using all of these gadgets and more, but what I do do with them varies from what I can do.
I use my computer for the Internet. As a student, I can check facts that I am familiar with, but do not have entirely committed to memory. I especially cherish the ability to find the locations of passages from the extensive amount of literature (I find it extensive, at any rate; extensive is not exhaustive, unfortunately) for use in papers.
I entered into the technological era hesitantly, if readers can believe that, given the extensive amount of technology (again: for me, it seems extensive) I possess. I am not a Luddite, but I would not have bought an Xbox 360 if my friends had not promised that we could socialize, scattered to the four winds as we are, over its voice-chat and online game play. My computer, I got for professional, scholarly, and personal reasons. The latter mirror the reasons for owning an XBox 360: the promise of keeping in touch with friends in other states an countries easily and conveniently.
Professionally, I do prefer carrying an iPod and speakers to class rather than a boombox for German listening exercises. If I had a laptop, I would likewise prefer that to carrying mounds of notes and paper to and fro.
I might miss paper, until I look at the clutter of my office-bedroom. I'd rather have that info backed up on an SD card than on my floor or in filing boxes. 1" x 1.5" SD cards are a lot easier to store. Nonetheless, if I get lonely for paper, there is always my black and white/color printer-fax-scanner to keep me company (it was only 99 dollars; 7 years ago that bought me a printer. Period).
I am enrolled in a class on educational technology, and I really hope that I learn from it not to be hijacked. For that to be the case, of course, the class itself cannot already be hijacked by technology. I grant that technology is neat, fascinating, convenient, and other superlatives, but all of that is a means to an end. I want this class to help clarify what that end is: technology 'hijacked' by effective teaching. If it shows me what that looks like, then I am all in favor.
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