Teachers as Customers?: Technology, IT, and the Classroom

Last week, as I was getting ready for the beginning of a new school year, I heard an interesting reference that got me thinking; "Faculty are a different type of customer in IT's [Information Technology's] eyes." I'm sure that I have heard this claim in various versions before but this time it stuck with me. To be sure, there is some truth in the statement. Students certainly have different needs from faculty. For instance, students will probably want to stream more media than faculty and faculty will probably need more complex software (e.g., SPSS) than students. Furthermore, there are often many more students with many more mobile devices than there are faculty or faculty mobile devices. In a sheer numbers perspective, student bandwidth needs burden the system more than faculty needs. Then again, when faculty need technology on campus, it is often for student learning needs, whereas students may absorb more bandwidth for various academic and social concerns.

On its face, then, faculty may indeed be viewed as a different kind of customer than students, especially when it comes to technology. What struck me about the claim I heard last week was not the logic but that word, customer. But why was I so hung up on that word? In all likelihood, it probably stuck with me because I am used to the title "user" being attributed to IT issues and service. I am certainly a user of technology but am I a customer? And if I am a customer, am I a different type of customer than my students?

The word customer comes from Middle English. It was used to describe an economic transaction, often brief, involving customs.  When we travel through customs, let's say at an airport, we report goods that we have brought from outside the country and, at our interaction with the customs official, sometimes pay a tax for bring those items with us. In a store, a similar economic transaction occurs when we purchase items that we want. In both cases, this is a single-point transaction. One customer takes or brings goods to an interaction with one seller or customs official. In many ways, this is different from a client, who has a longterm, often complex relationship with the seller.

So, am I a customer? I certainly hope not! I use technology continuously throughout the data, often on multiple devices at once. If IT views me as a customer, then at least one side of the relationship (theirs) is experiencing a relationship that is a "one and done" deal, whereas I'm looking for a longterm commitment (maybe without the long walks on the beach!).

But maybe this is the problem that so many faculty have with their IT departments. Like any relationship, when both sides differ in their expectations, conflict occurs. I wager that many faculty want a long-term, give and take relationship with their IT departments, whereas many IT departments, often drowning in a sea of request slips, are viewing interactions as "in process" or "complete" transactions. Maybe we need to explore some kind of IT/Faculty version of marriage counseling.

As for the differences between faculty and students, then, it seems that as customers, students will always win the attention of IT departments. Simply by their sheer numbers, they can create more requests for single-point transactions than any faculty group might be able to. However, as clients, may faculty as a little more important. In faculty, IT can find a group that has a bit more staying-power and institutional knowledge. Most of us certainly hope that we will be around for more than 4 years.

Am I a customer? I guess that depends. I would hope that my IT department and yours views you as a client, whether you are a student or faculty member. In this model, the relationship between the user and IT seems more like an investment, where both sides can learn from each other. Even just four years can provide a lot of learning experiences when the relationship is consistent, not viewing issues as single-point transactions. So, as we return to school, let's make an effort to get to know our IT departments as "an individual;" maybe we can even buy them a drink. And let's become their clients, not their customers.

Breaking Canaries from their Cages

It's back to school time and the rise in teachers' anxiety seems to be running a bit higher than normal. Of course, there are the back to school jitters that never seem to go away from our days as students. Maybe these jitters are a good thing. I had one professor tell me that you will know it is time to retire when you don't get a little nervous about the first day of school. Since I'm still getting a little nervous, I guess I should keep going!

Teacher anxiety is also high because of the political climate, one that has been particularly harsh on teachers. Like many in the US, teachers are overworked and underpaid. Unlike many professionals in the US, they are often viewed as less than capable and in need of constant development and reform. Claudia Swisher illustrates this anxiety quite well in her article Frog in the Pot, Canary in the Mine, or Rats from the Ship? In short, she questions why teachers don't attempt to take more control of their destiny, fighting against politicians, philanthropists, and critics (most of whom have never taught or do not currently teach) who are trying to determine how to training, assess, and direct teachers. In her analogy, she questions whether (1) teachers are the proverbial frog in the pot, adjusting little by little to the warmer waters until they are cooked, (2) canaries in a mine, sounding the alarm, often when it is too late, or (3) rats on a ship, most of whom are leaving the profession in droves. Although she is retiring soon, she still sees herself as a canary, hoping that her calls are not too late and advocating for other canaries to squawk as well.

Although I truly appreciate her thoughts, I'm not entirely convinced that any of Swisher's analogies quite fit the current state of education and education reform well. More specifically, I'm not sure why the canaries aren't trying to figure a way out of their cages while squawking at the same time. Indeed, in many ways, teachers are "in a cage." For example, politicians control the money that flows into education systems. While this provides a certain check on overspending, the situation requires educators to justify their expenses to those who often don't know what they are talking about. Another example of "caging" can be seen in the development of high-stakes standardized tests that most educators rightly view as an impediment (often a detriment) to deeper learning.

While these caging mechanisms are certainly things to squawk about, there is also the caging effect of public opinion. Here, unlike the examples of political/economic caging, educators have a bit more leverage, if they choose to use it. To be sure, there will almost assuredly always be detractors, those who think that teachers just aren't doing a good enough job. However, we have enabled a culture of critics as well. Let me explain...

Over the last couple weeks, I have repeatedly seen my Facebook friends post messages complaining about going back to school. They talk about how much they will miss their vacation, how much they hate their job, and how they will spend their "at Wednesday" of freedom. While I understand their sentiment, most of America doesn't. In fact, most of America (at least the luck ones that still have a job in this economy) hasn't had "a Wednesday of freedom" since they were in school themselves. In the court of public opinion, these comments amount to the "teachers as whiners" and "teachers don't have a real job" labels that most educators resent a great deal. Ironically, through unthoughtful uses of social media, I fear we are perpetuating this perception.

How is this perception illustrated in culture? One recent way these perceptions are realized is through back to school advertisements. My "favorite" is Old Navy's commercial, where Jenny Garth is described as a teacher in great jeans. Here teachers, both male and female, are seen as older versions of the children they teach, teddy bears and all. Certainly, most people in business might say, these teachers don't have real jobs; they don't even need to get dressed up for work! If this commercial can be used as an example of the publics perception of education and educators, we have fallen a long way from the respected professionals that Swisher describes her ancestor-teachers as.

I agree with Swisher; we, as educators, need to squawk about injustices to our students and our profession. We need to take back some of the power that others have ripped away from us because they don't view us as professionals. At the same time, however, we need to free ourselves from the cage that we have built, the cage where we think it is ok for others to view us as less-than-professional. We need to stop talking about our "last Wednesdays of freedom," start talking about new scholarship and our own scholarly work, and dress in nothing less than what a "professional" should look like. While I may agree with you if you argue that some of these suggestions are cosmetic, I would also argue that they drive perception. And as we all know, perception is reality.

Dividing Classroom Time: Teaching about Good New Media Use

I hate the notion of the "teacher's toolbox!" I'm not sure if saying that means that I will lose my teacher's license but I'm willing to take the risk. The teacher's toolbox concept has been around for awhile, a playful euphemism describing all the different techniques teachers might use to help their students learn. Indeed, there are certainly some truths that the phrase implies. For example, newer teachers have fewer "tools" with which to work. Teacher education can never be long enough or thorough enough to enable teacher candidates to master every tool. Like any profession, the real learning comes from the "doing" in the profession. This phrase also correctly implies that there is not one single teaching technique that will work for any particular student, topic, or instructional material. Teachers need to think flexibly about to to present the material in various forms so that all students can access it.

What I think I hate about the "teacher toolbox" concept is that, for all the good things it implies, it also implies that teachers need to "fix" something. As I have worked with pre-service teachers, I realize that many differentiate "toolbox" from "tools." In their minds, toolboxes are filled with supplies to help people fix things. Tools, on the other hand, can be used to fix or create. It is an interesting distinction that I think we as teachers and teacher educators need to be cognizant of when we use such "cute" terms.

More to the point, however, the "teachers toolbox" is often not very specific with regards to the tools in it. For example, we might have a hammer (e.g., "direct instruction"), a saw (e.g., "jigsaw activity"), and/or a screw driver (e.g., "guided reading activity") in our toolbox. What we don't have (or can't see) within our toolboxes is any specificity beyond the types of tools we have. Do we have a Phillip's head screwdriver or a flathead? What type of saw might work best as we work to scaffold students' knowledge? Indeed, one of the biggest, newest, coolest, and least specific tools that we have in our toolboxes is "technology." Rarely do teachers use "technology" (whatever that actually means) as a surgical tool, making small adjustments within a lesson in order to tweek students' understanding. Often, we use it as the Jaws of Life, prying open the motivation and imagination of students that we have a hard time reaching any other way.

As we are continuing to learn how technologies (see how I used the plural here?) can best used effectively in the classroom, we can't afford to make the mistake of generalizing the categories. Within our toolbox, we need to know what types of technologies we have mastery of and how to use each individually and in combination for the best result under the best circumstances. To do this will take time and consistent practice. As youths (and adults) become "one" with their electronic devices, we need to teach about good new media habits in the classroom. On top of everything else that teachers have to do, this can seem like just one more thing that we need to touch upon... but maybe it doesn't have to be.

When I teach students to create lesson plans, I often ask them to create three activities within the Procedures section that drive home the Mastery Objective. Newer teachers often get the first two down and then trip-up on the third; they aren't always sure what to do. One "easy" way of addressing both the issue of a third activity and teaching good media habits is to have one "technology block" per lesson. For example, if I want students to be able to justify a position using supporting evidence from text (one of the Common Core Standards, by the way), then I might ask students to practice this skill with me using a printed article, I might ask them to find a blog post about that topic online to analyze and think about in groups, and then I might ask them to develop their arguments individually. Rather than having a computer lab day (in the traditional sense that a class might spend the whole time there, working on computers), I've integrated blogging (one tool) into my lesson in a very strategic way.

Obviously, time and resources always play a role in the types of tools that any particular teacher can use. In addition, not all lessons will call for the same types of technologies. I think that it is important for use to think about how we can meet students where they are with technologies and be more explicit about the types of tools we have in our "teacher's toolbox."Doing so might allow students to practice good new media habits and increasing the academic rigor of students' media use.

Community as Partnership

Over the last few months, I've been engaged in a research study, trying to better understand the thought processes that civically engaged individuals go through when they are considering how best to act toward a perceived issue. While I'm collecting some excellent data, there are also things that I am learning that don't necessarily pertain to my study questions but as rather useful for us all to consider. One such comment made by one of my participants has had me thinking all week. When I asked her what she thought the biggest asset in the community was, she replied, "The community itself."
Now, I have to admit, when she first said this, I thought that she had possibly misheard the question. How could the community be its own asset? I had been expecting her to list specific local organizations, people, and/or spaces that enabled the community to thrive. Instead, she was defining the whole with the whole. I was a bit confused by all of this until she explained that there was a civic ethos within the community that allowed it to continuously approach issues as a community. Sure, there are organizations, specific people, and places that are important to this work but she adamantly maintained that the community (or at least its sense of civic responsibility) was its biggest strength.
As an argument, this all made a lot of sense to me. But how do you "map" civic responsibility, as we teach students to community map? How do you teach it within the confines of the school day, school curriculum, and state assessments? These were some of the questions on my mind when I began my last lecture of the summer term and when I asked my students, "How do we teach this thing called multicultural education on a consistent basis?" One of my students put it all together quite nicely. He argued that, aside from the strictures of the curriculum and the 46-minute classes, we had to engage our students in the community. We needed to show the students that our diversity is more than an asset; it is who we are and who we are proud to be. In essence, we have to show that we--the whole community--are partners in this thing called community.
As I'm beginning to think about my fall classes, I trying to take what I have learned, both from my study participants and from my students, to heart. Specifically, I'm trying to develop activities and lessons that enable my students to see that the communities of which they are becoming a part of (e.g., their academic communities, the College community, and the local community) are assets unto themselves and that being active in those communities is what we do. I am slowly coming to believe that the more they make connections between their various communities, taking responsibility for their care, maintenance, and improvement, the more they will learn... probably more than any term paper assignment I could ask them to research.