(First, the link to my VoiceThread.)
VoiceThread, an online interactive slideshow program, offers instructors a new way to conduct discussions that allows for video and audio posts, unlike typical discussion forums that rely almost exclusively on text. And this is a rather simple tool to use. After creating an account, users click the “Create” tab to upload files from a local drive, include files from a media source (VoiceThread gives direct links to other VoiceThreads, Flickr, Facebook, and over 700,000 images from the New York Public Library), insert URLs, and/or create videos using a webcam. Users can also edit how viewers see the slideshow and can edit the publishing options, adding a fair amount of security to the VoiceThread.
Once creators share the VoiceThread, viewers who have VoiceThread accounts can comment on that (or about any) VoiceThread. A viewer simply clicks the “Comment” button and chooses the mode of comment he or she prefers; the principle options include text, audio, or video—the latter two having ten minute limits. Another feature available to viewers commenting via audio or video is Doodle. When recording an audio or video comment, a viewer can draw directly on the slide using the mouse. These doodles will then be visible to anyone who views the VoiceThread’s comments. Finally, once posted, the comments appear as boxes bearing images chosen by the commenters around the sides of the original VoiceThread. As the slides progress, the comments follow in the order they were posted (but the slideshow’s creator can modify this order).
Though VoiceThread has broad educational and non-educational uses, it does offer a number of key affordances for instructors in English studies. As English studies becomes increasingly multimodal, instructors seek out new tools and methods to teach students about critiquing and producing multimodal texts. This presents two key challenges. The first challenge is to align the technologies and multimodal texts with particular goals of English studies (Selber 8; Journet 110-11). The second challenge is to debunk the idea that technology use is simply a skill. Indeed, as Jennifer Sheppard argues, producers of effective multimodal texts must make careful rhetorical considerations of audience, context, purpose, and media (122). This provides instructors with the opportunity to emphasize both critique and production of multimodal texts, challenging theory/practice divides (Sheppard 123; Journet 114; Selber 7; Hocks 644-45).
Several scholars and teachers have introduced pedagogical practices to meet these challenges. Especially germane to VoiceThread, at least for my purposes, is Stuart Selber’s three literacies regarding computers: functional literacy (use), critical literacy (analysis), and rhetorical literacy (production) (24-25). An instructor could put into practice, quite easily, Selber’s various literacies using a tool such as VoiceThread. In a course emphasizing visual rhetoric or multimodal composition, an instructor could upload any text (a video, an image, etc.) into a VoiceThread. Students would then have to engage in functional literacy practices by viewing and commenting on that text. Students would rely on critical literacy to comment on the rhetoric, content, and design features of the text. And students must also consider their own rhetorical practices (albeit in a somewhat limited capacity) in their comments, thereby engaging in rhetorical literacy. One can see, too, how an instructor might incorporate elements of the New London Group’s mulitiliteracies pedagogy in a VoiceThread project (see Cope and Kalantzis 30-36).
VoiceThread’s affordances are not only specific to visual rhetoric or multimodal composition courses. A literature course instructor, for instance, could easily upload a poem (so long as the font size makes for easy viewing), or one of the many thousands of images from the New York Public Library (images of the growth of New York City if one was doing a unit on literature of the metropolis) for the class to analyze. More generally, VoiceThread offers a somewhat tangential but important benefit, especially for asynchronous distance classes. As these classes typically rely on considerable amounts of text, VoiceThread gives its users the opportunities to see and hear those in the class, creating an added sense of connection in courses that might isolate students (see Owens, Hardcastle, and Richardson).
VoiceThread is not without some drawbacks, most of which deal with the limitations of the free version and the cost of the paid versions. The free version limits uploads to 25MB and allows a user only three VoiceThreads on his or her account at a time. If use of VoiceThread were to be more than infrequent, the instructor would need to delete VoiceThreads and all the comments associated with them to create new VoiceThreads. VoiceThread does offer a Pro version with unlimited VoiceThreads and unlimited audio and video commenting, file uploads of up to 100MB, among other features, for $59.95 per year. VoiceThread also offers educational versions for K-12 and higher education. In the higher education category, an instructor can purchase a single instructor/manager account for $99 per year that includes one Pro account and 50 basic accounts. Departmental licenses are $699 for ten Pro accounts and 250 basic accounts, though the site doesn’t specify if this fee is one-time yearly. The limits of the free account and the costs of the other products may be significantly prohibitive depending on planned uses and/or available funding resources. Finally, aside from account concerns, another problem (though a small one) is that users cannot link or embed YouTube videos in a VoiceThread, but a free download of a YouTube downloader remedies this. Otherwise, VoiceThread accepts the majority of common file types.
Ultimately, VoiceThread is an easily accessible tool that, because of its ease of use and flexibility, can contribute to a variety of courses that emphasize and/or encourage a number of modalities in presenting and producing information. However, unless users are willing to pay for greater access, they may be forced to incorporate this minimally, costing time and effort for students and instructors for limited use. A clearly articulated and longer project, though, could counterbalance these limitations; furthermore, if an instructor plans to use this in a number of ways, the $5 monthly expense of a Pro account may be nominal for the affordances of this tool.
Works Cited
Cope, Bill and Mary Kalantzis. “Introduction: Multiliteracies: The Beginning of an Idea.” Multiliteracies: Literacy Learning and the Design of Social Futures. Ed. Bill Cope and Mary Kalantzis. London: Routledge, 2000. 3-37. Print.
Hocks, Mary E. “Understanding Visual Rhetoric in Digital Writing Environments.” CCC 54.4 (2003): 629-56. Print.
Journet, Debra. “Inventing Myself in Multimodality: Encouraging Senior Faculty to Use Digital Media.” Computers and Composition 24 (2007): 107-20. Print.
Owens, Janet, Lesley Ann Hardcastle, and Ben Richardson. “Learning from a Distance: The Experience of Remote Students.” Journal of Distance Education 23.3 (2009): 53-74. Print.
Selber, Stuart A. Multiliteracies for a Digital Age. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois UP, 2004. Print.
Sheppard, Jennifer. “The Rhetorical Work of Multimedia Production Practices: It’s More Than Just Technical Skill.” Computers and Composition (2009): 122-31. Print.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Wicked Design
Marback, Richard. “Embracing Wicked Problems: The Turn to Design in Composition Studies.” CCC 61.2 (2009): W397-W419. Print.
In this sometimes dense piece, Richard Marback traces the recent turns to design in composition studies brought about by the increasing emphasis on digital technologies and multimodal text production, and he strongly supports this shift. He notes that since the 1990s, critique has hindered students’ ability to have agency in the texts they produce. His call, then, is for composition to move beyond critique and to adopt design as a way to give greater agency to our students in the production of their texts.
But his goals for design are precise: As the title suggests, he wants design to “embrac[e] wicked problems.” These “wicked problems” convey the notion that producing any artifact is a constant tension between previous iterations of that artifact, the designer’s goals, the audience’s potential responses to it, the interrelations of its constituent parts, and the designer’s negotiations of these tensions. Wicked problems, then, are provisional, ambiguous, and not ultimately solvable; designers can only meet the challenges of a particular situation through “an embrace of ambiguities in our responses to each other with and through our artifacts” (W418).
He also traces recent scholarship on the use of design in composition studies, examining the works of Gunther Kress, the New London Group, Richard Buchanan, Diana George, and Mary Hocks (among others). He sees in them some valiant efforts to promote the types of design considerations he advocates, but notes that these efforts tend to fall short of actively and thoroughly espousing the realities of wicked problems in design. They fail, by his accounts, by reducing design and analysis to textual terms, by not fully acknowledging the complexity of design, or by relying too much on the language of critique. He calls on instructors to view design as “a problem of ambiguity and indeterminacy in audience and purpose, a problem of struggling with our abilities to respond to artifacts, with the capacity in our artifacts to respond to us, as well as the problem of our responsibility we have as designers for the abilities of our artifacts to respond and elicit responses from others” (W415). He next provides us with a sample assignment, illustrating how students might consider and engage wicked problems.
Often, maybe too often, recent arguments about the need to incorporate design into composition studies seem to reduce practices to sets of principles that suggest relatively easy solutions or place multimodality in textual terms, neglecting their breadth and depth of appeals and designs. In other circumstances, design or rhetorical terms are invoked as a solution (even an easy solution) to the complexities of multimodal text production. Marback, despite engaging in something he faults others for (suggesting “wicked problems” as a sort of panacea), reminds us of the true complexity of producing effective texts and pushes against the tendency toward simplifying what design entails.
In this sometimes dense piece, Richard Marback traces the recent turns to design in composition studies brought about by the increasing emphasis on digital technologies and multimodal text production, and he strongly supports this shift. He notes that since the 1990s, critique has hindered students’ ability to have agency in the texts they produce. His call, then, is for composition to move beyond critique and to adopt design as a way to give greater agency to our students in the production of their texts.
But his goals for design are precise: As the title suggests, he wants design to “embrac[e] wicked problems.” These “wicked problems” convey the notion that producing any artifact is a constant tension between previous iterations of that artifact, the designer’s goals, the audience’s potential responses to it, the interrelations of its constituent parts, and the designer’s negotiations of these tensions. Wicked problems, then, are provisional, ambiguous, and not ultimately solvable; designers can only meet the challenges of a particular situation through “an embrace of ambiguities in our responses to each other with and through our artifacts” (W418).
He also traces recent scholarship on the use of design in composition studies, examining the works of Gunther Kress, the New London Group, Richard Buchanan, Diana George, and Mary Hocks (among others). He sees in them some valiant efforts to promote the types of design considerations he advocates, but notes that these efforts tend to fall short of actively and thoroughly espousing the realities of wicked problems in design. They fail, by his accounts, by reducing design and analysis to textual terms, by not fully acknowledging the complexity of design, or by relying too much on the language of critique. He calls on instructors to view design as “a problem of ambiguity and indeterminacy in audience and purpose, a problem of struggling with our abilities to respond to artifacts, with the capacity in our artifacts to respond to us, as well as the problem of our responsibility we have as designers for the abilities of our artifacts to respond and elicit responses from others” (W415). He next provides us with a sample assignment, illustrating how students might consider and engage wicked problems.
Often, maybe too often, recent arguments about the need to incorporate design into composition studies seem to reduce practices to sets of principles that suggest relatively easy solutions or place multimodality in textual terms, neglecting their breadth and depth of appeals and designs. In other circumstances, design or rhetorical terms are invoked as a solution (even an easy solution) to the complexities of multimodal text production. Marback, despite engaging in something he faults others for (suggesting “wicked problems” as a sort of panacea), reminds us of the true complexity of producing effective texts and pushes against the tendency toward simplifying what design entails.
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