Showing posts with label digital citizenship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label digital citizenship. Show all posts

Thursday, February 13, 2020

My Social Media Use Continues to Evolve as I Ask Myself: Is it the Truth or Confirmation Bias?

One might think that by being a kindergarten teacher, I wouldn't have any concerns regarding content shared via social media aside from protecting students' and colleagues' identities and avoiding posting unprofessional photos or tweets of myself.  But as social media algorithms continue to promote what's shared the most, and lies (*actual* fake news) continue to go unchallenged and are shared ad nauseam, the truth, of which I am a fan, becomes harder and harder to find.  Authentic, transparent, and occasionally painful, the truth helps us to become better navigators of our lives. As a teacher, the truths about children and how they develop, rather than the selling points of edu-brands and promises of education reform initiatives have guided and helped me to grow my pedagogy.

I've taught for a quarter of a century, so I can find the humor in teacher memes.  I have snickered, giggled, and admittedly guffawed at some of them, and have even created one or two myself. When I began to encounter some rather tasteless memes regarding teachers and our jobs, where the humor was being pushed toward titillation rather than truth, I incorrectly assumed that the masses wouldn't care, and would certainly recognize the rhetoric as entertainment rather than fact.  My humor didn't have to be their humor, to each his or her own, after all.  But as I watched the outrage that began to attach itself to these memes, and even the embracement of the naughtiness of the not-quite-true content, the thought began to nag at me: rather than fading, these misrepresentations were spreading like cancer, superimposing themselves upon the architecture of public education just as they would the cells inside a healthy human body, damaging, then destroying it.  Upon deeper reflection, I realized that my career and students have had to endure No Child Left Behind, Race to the Top, and now "failing government schools," all big-business initiatives, labels, and election-year rhetoric primarily created to manipulate how the public views this profession, while creating the appearance that the government sincerely cares about quality education and how children are taught in schools.  Voters consumed headlines about NCLB, the Common Core, and Race to the Top initiatives like they were Skittles.  How many will now eagerly gobble up "failing government schools" simply because they don't realize they are trapped by their own confirmation biases (and blind trust) masquerading as truth?


Memes and other content don't magically appear out of thin air. When I created the one above several years ago, I had to log onto the eCard site, choose a suitable illustration, figure out how to make my text fit, and hit "publish." People apparently liked it a lot, recognizing and sharing the humor of my sigh-of-relief declaration that there are no photos of me holding the clammy hands of a boy during PE in the 1970's.  Fine... maybe MY hands were the ones that were clammy.  But more and more often, rather than illuminating the art and hilarity of teaching, or commiserating with other teachers about the ups, downs, laughter and tears of our profession, the memes I was encountering were becoming the newest weapon for those who would continue the attack on teachers for their own economic benefit. Other professions and groups of people are regularly targeted as well, which made for an onslaught (ugh!) in all of my feeds because of how diverse (yay!) my friends and those I follow are in reality as well as digital-land.  In trying to find a compromise so that I wouldn't end up tossing the baby out with the bathwater regarding social media (there's so much that I do want to see and share, despite the content I find misleading and unsavory), I first chose to unfollow a whole bunch of folks. On FB it was friends, colleagues, families of former students, strangers, and even family members, though they all remained contacts. On Instagram and Twitter, it was acquaintances and strangers alike. Unfollowing people on Instagram and Twitter yielded almost immediate relief, frankly because I wasn't closely connected to most of them, and because unfollowing removed them and their content entirely.

The hard work came a few months later when I had to challenge my ideas on how I wanted to use FB, rather than how FB wanted to use me (thank you grad school and Digital Minimalism). Was I okay with clothing and cute shoe businesses knowing what I like and don't?  Sure. Have I become a member of a kindergarten curriculum, baking, or crochet-related group on Facebook based on its suggestions?  Yep, and I love what I've encountered there. Did I like the content that was being suggested to me by what some of my friends appreciated? No, not all of the time. But even after fiddling with all of the account settings, I had to re-acknowledge a truth about myself that I've articulated in different ways over the years: I am triggered by very obvious bovine fecal matter. My jaw sets, my cheeks flush, my body tenses, and I feel anything but relaxed, pleasant, or safe.  Despite my own confirmation bias (who doesn't like to be right?), having to repeatedly acknowledge others' truths and mindsets by their continued and often excessive spreading of some of the most unsophisticated memes, pages/groups and clickbait left a bad taste in my mouth, making me feel more fight-or-flight than engaged or entertained.  That's right, unsophisticated. The clickbait posing as investigative journalism claiming to be able to prove that all immigrants are rapists and "articles" about how drinking seventeen cups of coffee per day is healthy are shams and should be easily recognized as such by most of us.  While photos of flowered headbands resting upon the heads of pit bulls are products of the same technique utilized by those who manipulate images for political gain, and though the dogs are certainly deserving to be seen in a more flattering light, shouldn't most people by now have caught on to the ploy? The tugging of the heartstrings?  The triggering of patriotic rage?

Call me a truth snob. Stereotypes, prejudices, misrepresentations, lies, and other marketing ploys really aren't hard to spot for adults.  "Girls aren't good at science." "Those Chinese kids always excel at math." "A woman can't be president because she'd be too emotional." Bovine. Fecal. Matter.  Consumers just want to feel something, and fear, anger, jealousy, and hate are easy sells.  Within our schools, students rely upon us to be good stewards of accurate information as we teach them to navigate all of the content that is available.  This makes it necessary in my opinion, to weed, guard, protect and continue to educate ourselves as teachers, even when we're outside of the classroom getting our social media groove on. Being vigilant about information and knowledge we impart is a significant part of our profession.  CommonSense.org has resources for challenging confirmation bias here

Eventually, I unfriended almost three-quarters of my contacts on Facebook and experienced the visceral gut-punch of having a much smaller audience.  I, the person who for years has sought out affirmation from others as a gauge to measure whether or not I'm actually deserving of anything, doing my job correctly, or creating content that helps others, did something that immediately shattered a significant conduit by which I had been feeding myself the idea that who I am and what I do matters. And I survived. Not unlike other addictions, there have certainly been some withdrawal symptoms to work through, but without the mob, there's much less BFM through which I have to sift, making it easier to ground myself and identify any new evolutionary change that might be occurring in my life and pedagogy. As it turns out, I'd like to move from the classroom into the library.  Until then, I'm still a kindergarten teacher, ranter, and sharer of good news. And the good news remains this: knowledge is power. Know how to find the truth, and be brave if and when it challenges your own confirmation biases. 

Though you may need to take some Dramamine (good grief, he never puts the camera down) this video from Veritasium, "Why Facts Don't Matter Anymore," is a great opener for those needing or wanting to learn more about confirmation bias, the tendency to interpret new evidence as confirmation of one's existing beliefs or theories.  Initially interested because of the negative effect my own social media use was having on my mood and optimism, I quickly came to realize that other educators and our students would also benefit from the following point being made explicitly: our biases aren't the truth.

Monday, February 17, 2014

The Upshot to NOT Being Told "Yes"

Earlier this month I was working online from home (snow day) and decided to take a break and scroll through Facebook.  As I follow several illustrators, I enjoy seeing their updates appear in my newsfeed from time to time.  Sure enough, a beautiful illustration of lions caught my eye as I was skimming through statuses.  Pamela Zagarenski had updated her cover photo, and it immediately inspired me to ask her for permission to use it in my classroom.  Our next letter-of-the-week was going to be Ll, and I thought her wonderful lions would be the perfect focal image to be used as wallpaper on my SMART Board.

Being respectful of her rights as an artist/illustrator, and aware of copyright infringement, I messaged her to ask if I might be allowed to copy the photo and use it in my classroom.  I explained that I wouldn't photograph the image or distribute it; I simply wanted to discuss lines, lions, lionesses, like and love with my Super Stars over the week.

Ms. Zagarenski replied, and it wasn't with a resounding "yes."

I was disappointed, but understood.  As we so often tell our students, we can ask, but it doesn't mean we'll receive the answer we're hoping for or want.

Then Ms. Zagarenski asked if wanted a lion print for my classroom and asked me for my address.  Pleasantly surprised, I gave it to her.  Thanks to additional snow days and the inevitable delayed lesson plans and let's-get-back-into-the-school-groove routine once we returned, my interaction with the wonderful artist  slipped my mind.

Until last Friday, when this arrived:



Excited to show my kindergartners Ms. Zagarenski's lions, I opened the tube to find that a narwhal and a tiger had also been sent to us:


There were audible gasps from my Super Stars as I unrolled each print, and then oohs, whispers, giggles, exclamations, and discussions about animals, artwork, colors, letters, books, painting, and letter sounds continued on throughout the day.  "So that's what a painting looks like when it's not in a book" and "I like how she puts crowns on people and animals 'cause I like crowns too" were some of the comments the Stars shared.  Then, another lightbulb moment:  "Mrs. Sommerville!  Mrs. Sommerville!  That's the same picture from our book!"  And so it is:


Later in the day, I shared the story of how I had asked Ms. Zagarenski if I could use a picture of her lions on my SMART Board, and how she hadn't really said "yes."  Asking my Stars if I should have thrown a tantrum, or used the picture anyway, they replied "no" and reminded me that we "don't take things without permission."  Two students also reminded me that we should say ~thank you~ to Ms. Zagarenski, for sending us her wonderful illustrations.  The Stars decided that we'll write her a note and make a gift of gratitude this week for her.

As art brings color to our lives in our homes, galleries, museums and outdoor displays, so too does it enrich our classroom and school environment.  Ms. Zagarenski, thank you for sharing your art and gifts with us.

*****

You can purchase archival prints and cards by Ms. Zagarenski at her ETSY shop, Sacred Bee.