Category Archives: Bruner

Good Book, Good Life

That’s the saying on a t-shirt I bought at the Green Valley Book Fair near Harrisonburg, Virginia. It’s so true for me. I don’t feel complete if I’m not in the middle of a book. My favorites are well-written fiction books like Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walters that I bought and finished in two days. Stories of love, loss, and learning that stick with me even after the book has ended. Complex characters who don’t always do the right thing or make the best choices as they struggle to live happy full lives. I read mysteries but often for the historical setting (Maisie Dobbs and Maggie Hope are two current favorites set in war-time Britain) where the murder almost happens off screen and the plot is about the critical thinking that goes into solving problems rather than the grisly details of torture or killing. The most violent I get is Bernard Cornwell but there’s something about his swashbuckling storytelling that makes up for the battle scenes.

So, Paula White’s post about Sharing Books really resonated with me this morning. Paula has been reading the books on the Virginia Young Readers list so she can share them with her students and I am eager to get started on them myself. But, she finds herself unwilling to share some of them with her elementary school children and even questions the content for the older kids. Paula writes:

Just finished Okay For Now by Gary Schmidt.  I’m trying to remember back to my middle school years and what in the heck I read beyond science fiction.

NOT books like this one…where the main character has what could be considered to be an awful life.  I don’t remember reading books where parents wouldn’t let their hard of hearing kids learn sign language (Hurt Go Happy) or kids killed other kids (Hunger Games) or kids committed suicide (13 Reasons Why).

I asked myself the same question as, like Paula, I was a voracious reader, always bringing home stacks of books from the library, a book hidden behind my social studies textbook, a book squirreled away in my purse for odd moments in the car or even church.  I remember loving The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and climbing into the back of my own closet to see if I could find a magical world. One summer, I read every Nancy Drew mystery. E.L. Konigsburg was a favorite, especially From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler. I dabbled in science fiction from the Dune series to Mrs. Frisby and The Rats of NIMH. And so many more…too bad there wasn’t a Librarything back then where I could track them all.

And I also wonder, as Paula does, about the diet of violence on which we all seem to live these days. In my antenna driven world, I get to see all the old shows from my childhood and while they seem hokey, I’m glad I grew up with the Brady Bunch and MASH rather than CSI and Criminal Minds. They portrayed a view of the world where honesty and kindness were valued and, while the world wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t as dark and evil as it seems now.

I also love sharing books and am hoping to get involved with a book group at my local library this fall. I’ve been sharing books with a friend’s daughter and can’t wait to get home and read The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear, a loaner from her that I forgot to bring with me on vacation. I sent her home with a box of Nancy Drews and a few other favorites and am looking forward to chatting with her about them. I also share books with an old teaching friend in Pennsylvania with whom I exchange “real” letters about reading. Finally, I blog about books on my personal blog In One Place.

Postscript: Paula has been blogging faithfully every day about her reading and her adventures with her students. Amplifying Minds is definitely worth adding to your aggregator.

 

Technology Use As Narrative

I just finished reading Bruner’s 1996 book, The Culture of Education.  In Bruner’s discussion of the narrative mode of thought, I found some significant connections with Nye’s first chapter of Technology Matters.

Nye relates tool use to narrative.  Deciding to use a tool is part of a story.  There is a problem and a solution that fall into a sequence:

“Composing a narrative and using a tool are not identical processes, but they have affinities.  Each requires the imagination of altered circumstances, and in each case beings must see themselves to be living in time.  Making a tool immediately implies a succession of events in which one exercises some control over outcomes.  Either to tell a story or to make a tool is to adopt an imaginary position outside immediate sensory experience.  In each case, one imagines how present circumstances may be made different” (p. 3).    Bruner suggests that it is in this narrative mode in which we live out most of our lives.  He believes that in order to introduce innovation, it will be necessary to change those stories–in particular, change the folk psychological and folk pedagogical theories of teachers and students.  And, I would add, parents, whose stories of education involve paper, pencil and textbooks.

Bruner and Nye seem to overlap in their discussions of culture as well.  Nye comments that cultures emerge before texts.   For Bruner, this means that practice, or knowing by doing, emerges before the theories that then govern the doing.  Drawing on Foucault’s Discipline and Punish, Bruner writes, “You will be struck to the degree to which the practice of punishment preceded that theory, but also by the effort that was made, once theory came into being, to construct one that fit practice” (p. 158).

Nye discusses the mistrust of technology because it often threatens the status quo.  He quotes Leo Strauss who wrote that classical thinkers realized “that one cannot be distrustful of political or social change without being distrustful of technological change” (p. 7).  The members of the community would determine the diffusion of technology.  Within the culture of education, there are certainly those who wish to preserve the past by condemning the new technologies.  Webkins, according to at least one internet-safety guru, are “gateway drugs” to larger virtual worlds like Second Life, as though moving into these online communities is bad and should be discouraged.  Bruner points to the contemporary version of the classical thinker when he criticizes academics as being the guardians of culture.  He singles out Allan Bloom: “I am not proud to admit that much of the most strident recent criticism [of education] has come from such self-appointed guardians of the culture as Alan Bloom, who longs bitterly for an imaginary past while immured in his ivory tower” (p. 118).   Alan Bloom has a certain version of the world that does not take into consideration more diverse cultures and points of view.  And, we see the conflict between education as a conserving enterprise and education as a radical enterprise.  In both cases, education courts “risk” as it carries out its fundamental role of transmitting culture:

“In carrying out that function, it inevitably courts risk by ‘sponsoring,’ however implicitly, a certain version of the world.  Or it runs the risk of offending some interests by openly examining views that might be taken as like the culture’s canonically tabooed ones.  That is the price of educating the young in societies whose canonical interpretations of the world are multivocal or ambiguous.  But an educational enterprise that fails to take the risks involved becomes stagnant and eventually alienating” (p. 15).  So, when schools ban technologies, they are doing more than banning a tool, they are banning a new cultural movement that threatens the past.  And, since change is the norm, then they are becoming less flexible.

This argument, however, seems to spill over into technological determinism and Nye concludes his chapter with the question of whether we should accept such determinism.