Power, Privilege, and Technology: Teaching Digital Literacy in Light of Digital “Haves and Have Nots”

            Throughout the readings for this week, I noticed the relationships between power, media, digital literacy, privilege, and schooling. It was interesting and important to revisit the concept of digital natives—a term I’m intimately familiar with. Having been born after 1982, I consider myself (and am considered by the broad definition) a digital native. Reading through Boyd, I did a lot of reflecting on my privileged experiences with technology, and how many students who are labeled as “digital natives” by the de facto criteria of birth year have vastly different experiences with technology based on their lack of that privilege.

           

            Growing up in a middle-class, suburban, S.C.W.A.A.M.P. household, I had access to technology at a pivotal time. It was the early 1990s, and my family had just purchased a brand-spankin’-new IBM computer, complete with a massive 50MB hard drive. I learned first how to launch my favorite computer games: “Prince of Persia” and, when I could sneak it in, the staunchly-prohibited “Doom II.” I then learned how to work the MS-DOS software by typing and executing commands, such as “c:\>_runwin” to launch Windows 95. We eventually upgraded to a bigger, better machine, complete with America On-Line and dial-up internet. The privileged youth of the new millennium have similar experiences of navigating burgeoning technologies, albeit with cloud storage instead of 3 ½ floppies and iPads instead of GameBoys. Digital literacy often comes back to privilege and power.

            The white middle class student who grew up with the family’s IBM or Macintosh at his or her disposal has the privilege. I look at my students, very few of whom even have access to cell phones, and their inability to navigate technology is telling of their lack of privilege and power. With privilege (i.e. the family where all three children have a phone, tablet, and computer access) comes the power of being “native.” This power opens many of the doors of “high-status opportunity,” such as careers in technology, that remain closed to those without power (Boyd 198).

Even those with the power, privilege, and iPads can be at a disadvantage when assumptions are made about their digital competencies. Boyd makes an interesting case using Wikipedia and Google to illustrate how off the mark youths (and adults) can be when trying to think critically about information technologies. Despite being more democratic and organic, Wikipedia continues to suffer from the paranoid assumptions that much of its material is falsified or unverifiable. Having edit history and discussion boards open to the public make Wikipedia much more transparent than Google, with their corporate-influenced algorithms. There are opportunities missed when the concepts behind Wikipedia are not taught. Wikipedia is the best contemporary example of “how people produce knowledge” by coming together and engaging in public debate (191). This transparent, non-corporate, open, and collaborative practice is not found at Google (what are they REALLY doing with our search history and GPS locations??), and is absolutely not found in Texas textbook publishers. 

As educators trying to navigate power, privilege, and technology, it is up to us to enable our students to reap the benefits of widespread access to technology. The access alone is not enough, and requires extensive instruction and support. Our students being born into this world doesn’t automatically enable them to navigate it or critically contribute to it (177). Marshall and Sensom reference a very useful analogy of comparing our students to fish. As educators, we live in the same fish tank as our students. As such, we must get them thinking about the water.