The Web of the Class and a Digital Fairy Tale
Something quite wonderful happened in my Online Folklore-Mythology class today: our class is making its own web of stories! Each week the students add a new story to their Storybook Project, and here is what I found when I opened the "Constellation Mythology" project that one student is writing:
"There is no mythology linked with the constellation Monoceros [Uni-corn], so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to give my own explanation. It also just so happens that I read ____'s storybook project last week, and it is all about unicorns! I loved her story of the Last Unicorn, and thought that would be a perfect place to start."
That is the web of the class! Students sharing stories, retelling the stories in their own words, connecting stories to their own interests, making the stories meaningful all over again, connecting with other students in the class.
And even better: the students trading stories here had never created webpages before they took this class. In fact, one of the students really balked at it and struggled for weeks - literally, for weeks - before she was able to publish her webpages with confidence. But she didn't give up, and now she is fully "connected", a vital part of our storytelling web.
But... the students should NOT have to struggle for weeks with technology. In fact, one student had a particularly bad experience with our student web server last week and here is the fairy tale he wrote about that this week (another of the weekly writing assignments). Nothing like fairy tales to work out inner angst. And to poke fun at the instructor!
Once upon a time, in a land far far away; well, actually, it was a time not to far in the recent past, in a place which was ironically, very similar to where I am now. In fact, it was on the OU campus; never mind, maybe I am losing my head. Anyway, there was this beautiful princess. "Princess of the upstairs Kaufman Hall restroom," we called her; but that is an entirely different story. With the wisdom of her advisor, the princess had enrolled in Latin, French, German, and an online course (she never told me which one); but the most important class of the semester was her course in computer jibber-jabber.
Well, it just so happened that I met up with the princess as she was coming out of the restroom, one day.
"Hey Princess, What is up?" said I.
Her eyes got very wide at the site of me. "You have the evil eye upon you, my son!"
"What? The evil eye; get it off, get it off!" said I, as I jumped around trying to brush of this creepy thing that had attached itself to me. "Oh wait, that is just the picture on the t-shirt, that I purloined at the last concert I attended," said I, as I calmed down.
"Sic transit Gloria mundi!" said the princess. "It’s a loop, an endless loop. If you can’t code the button, you fail. Make sure to end the program."
"K," said I. "Cool beans and rice."
"I love beans and rice, are we having that for lunch," jumped in Jim. He always has the weirdest ability to appear out of thin air. "Are they serving this at Cate? I thought that it would be Hot Dog Day again."
In the next moment, Jim was gone again, and the Princess and I walked to the computer lab in the Library school area of the library.
"I can’t believe that I took this online class, along with jibber-jabber," said the princess. "These computers never do what they are supposed to do, sometimes they can’t even understand simple English. Computers should all understand English, French and German, before they can get out of the factory."
We sat down at two computers next to each other, and she picked up the microphone with the rolling ball in it. "Hello computer," she said. "Hello computer!"
"Hello, Princess," said the computer. "You've got mail."
"Excellent, I have been expecting an email from my online class instructor. Aw, this is the third response, that I have gotten back from him, like this. He never actually answers my questions. I just have to take him with a grain of salt."
"I love salt," said Jim, who appeared between the two computers. "I could eat salt all day long," he said; but then he was gone again.
"Well, what did he say in the email?" said I.
"Okay, I will read it to you," said the Princess.
‘Greetings Princess,
Chicken pot, chicken pot, chicken pot pie. Aw, those poor little ducks.
Those look like comfortable shoes. I bet you could walk all day in shoes like that and not feel a thing. I wish I had shoes like that. You know, momma used to say that there’s an awful lot you can tell about a person by their shoes. Where they are going, where they have been. I have worn lots of shoes. I bet if I think about it real hard, I could remember my first pair of shoes… http://www.firstshoes.com.
Careers and higher education are leading to the masculinization of women, with enormously dangerous consequences to the home, the children and our country. When our boys come home from war, what kind of girls will they be coming home to? And now, the most disgusting example of this sexual confusion, Mr. Walter Harvey, of Harvey Bars, is presenting us with women’s baseball. Right here in Chicago, young girls plucked from there families have gathered at Harvey’s field to see which one of them can be the most masculine. Mr. Harvey, like your candy bars, you are completely nuts.
Guru
OU Department of Jibber-Jabber and stuff
(405) 325-1234
Guru@ou.edu’"
"Well, what was the question that you ask him, Princess?" said I.
"I asked him how a paper-clip worked."
Ah, do we detect a little student alienation from the world of jibber-jabber? Yes indeed. Students expect to absorb lots and lots of academic jargon in school; in fact, they pay good money for it. But there are many students who rebel, and rebel absolutely, against the use of computer jargon. True confession: I have jibber-jabbered to my students. I have said ftp and html and jpeg and gif and sundry four-letter... and three-letter... words to them. It is true. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Possibilities for atonement will be explored tomorrow.
