Of Chalkboards and Laptops and Visual Literacy

This week, AnnMarie (co-author, former student, fellow educator) and I will be presenting a webinar  via UNC at Chapel Hill's SCALE Read. Write. Act. National Conference. Our focus is on achieving greater Visual Literacy through rhetorical analysis. You’re all invited, of course! We're "on" at 2pm EDT, Friday.

Because of the webinar, perhaps, my visual literacy senses are tingling painfully. Every image or video I watch, I consider its potential merit for discussion in a classroom. The image below came through on an assignment in one of my grad classes. We were to assume the role of a school improvement committee and present our plans for a technology upgrade. 

When I first looked at this image, I thought:  

        Graphically, this is a “clean” image. The colors stand out very well, and it’s easy to read. 

All noteworthy points to consider for a PowerPoint presentation. However, something about it bothered me.

It reflects an outdated mental model—that of chalkboards, chalk, and erasers. The word “technology” on a chalkboard doesn’t work. It’s contradictory. And the use of the image reflects the author’s mental model as holding desperately onto some Norman Rockwell idealistic image of teaching. 

Yes, the font is neat. Too neat. I can’t remember the last time my handwriting was that neat on a chalkboard. Yes, the image is clean. Too clean. My chalkboards hardly had any green on them at all as the dust from multiple erasures and changes created a funky nimbus cloud--that of a chalkboard in use. What’s the reality? Why do we strive so hard to avoid it?

This image, presented to an intended audience of teachers, ineffectively illustrates the argument of the slideshow, which was to encourage teachers to use more technology in the classroom. It doesn't work.

How are we going to get teachers to use and authentically integrate technology, if we insist on holding these images up as the ideal?  It’s cute and quaint, I grant you. On a subconscious level, which is where these visuals hit home, it says, "Not really. jk. Hold to tradition." 

Until districts and administrators understand that teachers need specific (paid!) training in how to use the available technology, and until teachers admit that they are somewhat daunted by it and holding onto familiarity, we’ll get nowhere. And our students will continue to disconnect from what we do, noting the discrepancy between the “real” world—an ironically digital one—and our static educational world, leaving us behind in a cloud of chalk dust.

Mindy Keller-Kyriakides is the author of Transparent Teaching of Adolescents: Defining the Ideal Class for Students and Teachers.  Become part of the conversation!

Twice Beckoned*

Whilst undergoing my daily meditation (okay, so I was "mindfully" washing dishes and listening to a Paul Collier playlist on YouTube, but still, it was very Zen)—I pondered the implications and opportunities within the recent Kenneth Cole billboard hoopla and how it could be used in a class.

I see a powerful lesson on visual rhetorical analysis for high school students, here.  Visual literacy is often completely over-looked, but it comprises a significant amount of today’s rhetoric, whether in the guise of static images, cartoons, or commercials. Their coercive subtlety is belied by the hugeness of the message, and students can unknowingly perpetuate a problem if they don't understand how to analyze visual rhetoric. 

As a context, before students even look at the image, they may need help understanding the distinctions between concepts such as group libel, bashing, and free speech. Once they determine their definitions of these terms, we could then move to an analysis of the image and the lesson in Visual Rhetoric. 

 

What specific argument does this billboard make? (What does it say about education, teachers, and/or students?)

How does it make the argument?  (Thinking in terms of graphics: the image of the model, use of color, visual format, font distinction, and text: implications of wordplay, use of pun, diction, and tone)

Why is the argument significant or exigent? (Connection to current events, zeitgeist)

How well does it make the argument? (Who is the target audience, based on the sponsor and image? How well does it reach this group?)

What seems to be the purpose of the billboard? (Ultimately, what did Kenneth Cole desire to do? Sell clothes? Send people to website?  Motivate for change?)

After students have determined the ins and outs of what Kenneth Cole strives to do and how well they do it, we could let them know what occurred as a result of this billboard—the overwhelming demand by teachers (mostly) to have it removed and the tweeted concession of the company: 

“We misrepresented the issue – one too complex for a  

billboard – and are taking it down.”

Have students evaluate the response of the educators to the billboard and the response of the company to the educators.  They could consider, amongst other appropriate responses that you would find for the lesson, this NY teacher’s analysis:  “the billboard’s effect was to ‘trash’ the teaching profession.”  Determining the validity of his/her point may also prove fruitful for analysis. 

Ask them how they might respond were they in either pair of shoes (those of the company, those of the teachers).  A nifty homework assignment might be the creation of a billboard in response, either in support or opposition to the argument Cole presented and the actions taken.

As Sabrina Stevens notes in her article on the same topic, “this is just one small victory in a much larger battle.”  (The victory being the removal of the billboard.)

Agreed. It was a small victory, and there is a larger battle. However, had we taken a moment to avoid the impulse to remove it and instead considered using it as a means for authentic discourse, we may have made greater strides in winning the battle.  

If teachers are to actually change perceptions as opposed to simply reacting to them, we’ll need to willingly open the discussion, not close it down. 

As the company notes, they’ve misrepresented the issue—the issue they have doesn’t go away because they’ve taken down their billboard. They didn’t say they were “wrong” on their issue, only that they screwed up in how (and by implication, how well) they presented it.   

We can fight with reason or might. However, by fighting with reason and understanding, we might more closely heed Dale Carnegie’s admonition that "A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still." 

We might win the battle.

*Opportunity is often difficult to recognize; we usually expect it to beckon us with beepers and billboards." ~ William Arthur Ward