I’ve been monitoring a discussion about the appropriate use of social software in schools. I’ve offered an alternate perspective, and I have an anecdote and some comments to share as well. But before I get to that I would like to simply say that I don’t consider myself an expert in these matters. My interest in computer technology is relatively recent, and springs from my interest in textual studies and literacy. Most of what I’ve learned about the internet has been learned from Chris Lott, and from reading and writing in this space that I’ve created on the web. I respect the variety of viewpoints that have been expressed because I have been given plenty to reflect on. For whatever the experience of one teacher is worth, I offer mine as an example of the problems with trust and danger that Miguel and Bud, Will and Darren talked about.

Glacier Travel: A near miss
Several years ago, when I first came to Alaska, I participated in a practical course in winter mountaineering sponsored by a local mountaineering club and the University of Alaska. We learned all about glacier travel, rescue techniques, and gear. We went on weekend climbing trips. I met some good friends. The course ended and the following winter one of those friends and I headed out on a trip into the Alaska Range on our own. It’s been said of mountaineering that experience is gained suddenly, and that you don’t necessarily grow from all the times when things go as planned. So on this unguided trip my friend and I discussed whether we should use a rope to cross the glacier - despite the fact that we’d been taught to ALWAYS use a rope. We’d hiked up the lateral moraine of the Castner Glacier for about 5 miles, and needed to cross it in order to reach our destination on the other side. It seemed like a trivial detail. There was light snow and rocks showing all the way. A huge and very intimidating crevasse lay to the right of our proposed route across. We’d steer clear of that! As an academic exercise, we finally decided to use the rope. We were about three quarters of the way across; the snow was only a few inches deep. I was about to step up onto a small pile of rocks when the bottom dropped out of my world. I remember that fall as an eternity. When I shook the snow out of my glasses I realized that I’d fallen into a small moulon - a glory hole - an abyss that is carved by summer runoff on the surface of the ice that ultimately finds a path to bedrock. It was not very big, maybe 10 feet across. I couldn’t see the bottom. From where I hung on the climbing rope, the top was a small hole showing only a patch of gray sky, way above my head. My first instinct was to claw my way back up, but of course that wasn’t possible. Instead, I had to remain clear-headed and follow the protocol we’d been taught. Summing up my feelings about this whole experience I’d say that I thank God for whatever inspiration prompted the impulse to use the rope that we carried, and I marvel at the ignorance that tempted me to consider leaving it in my pack.

Internet Highway Travel: Dodging trouble
Last spring I set up some student blogs for my fourth-graders. I considered district policies regarding their privacy and took measures to ensure their anonymity. I monitored the comments on a special email account I reserved just for that project. The student blogs were a big hit. I was very gratified. A couple of things happened, though, to give me pause. Early on in the project one young man decided he would publish jokes that people sent him. He tried to publish his personal email address so anyone who wanted to could send him jokes. I caught that one. I told him that I didn’t want him to engage in any email conversations with strangers. He was mad at me for ruining what he thought was a masterful plan to generate a great humor collection. The spectre of control began to haunt me. We worked with a professor from the University on a math-related project and she asked the kids to reflect on their experience with her research. One of the young ladies in the class expressed her feelings with what I would consider a vulgar and impolite word. So I began to ask myself, whose web space is this? And is this really blogging if I take this much editorial control of their writing. Still, they needed to respect the same social conventions that apply to all of their schoolwork. The final cautionary incident came shortly after school let out. I found a comment from a stranger on the blog of a boy who had written about trampolines. The comment was entirely appropriate on a superficial level. The commenter asked my student to provide advice on doing flips, and sent an email address for the child to respond to. I had to hack the template to allow only registered users to comment. Those student blogs are gone now, and we’re working out a new non-blog authoring alternative that would be suitable for elementary-aged kids.

I realized that there are issues and pitfalls to the use of social software that I’d not thought about. There are pedagogical limitations to using a journalling tool to teach writing, since revision is problematic with blogging software. There are questions about ownership of the web space. Who really owns the content? And I have misgivings about putting my elementary-age students in a situation where they could meet people that none of us know. I ask myself, who am I to decide these things? The school I work at serves a community that places a lot of trust in the teachers. My students’ parents didn’t really read or monitor their activity on the web. They left it up to me. My principal isn’t web savvy, and I don’t think he read their stuff, either. He trusted me. As to teaching our students about internet safety, I say that is an absolute requirement. Kids get safety lessons all the time. And it strikes me as altogether naive to think that those lessons will prevent bad things from happening. If that was true, there would be no teen pregnancies, teen drinking, or drug use. All teen agers would be home by curfew, do their homework, and go to bed on time.

Teachers need that training, too. But just like driver education, I doubt if such training will suffice to guarantee that nothing bad can happen with various socially enabled software applications. Just as we use seat belts in our cars, I believe we should use specialized tools for publishing student work to a dynamic internet environment. The issue of trust need not be construed as one that involves the integrity of a teacher’s ethical foundation or professional competence, but may be considered in light of our awareness and experience with powerful emergent technologies. As I read it, Miguel’s position could be construed as simply suggesting that we all rope up before someone takes a serious fall.