New Literacies – Literacy in the Disciplines

By: Dr. Todd Lilly, University of South Carolina

(For what it’s worth, this blog is peppered with a few hyperlinks to entertain the reader and to illustrate New Literacy Studies… for what it’s worth. Enjoy!)

Here’s a scene you might recognize: Everyone is concerned about the mental health of the young prince. The father of his fiancé finds him alone in a room in the castle, absorbed in a book. “What do you read, my lord?” The prince stops reading, flips through his book as if to try to find an answer to this most-important question. Then, as if making an astonishing discovery, he answers: “Words. Words. Words!”

I know what you’re thinking: “I’m not an English teacher! What’s this got to do with me?” Well… In the context of New Literacy Studies…Plenty. For what it’s worth, there was certainly a whole lot more in the prince’s book than words, and that should interest all of us.

“private property” by Lost Albatross is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Our house backs up to a popular public recreation area, so our Home Owners’ Association (HOA) posted signs: “Private Property/ No Trespassing!”

Many third graders would have no trouble sounding out the words:

“Pr…Pr… Pr as in Pretzel”

“Tr…Tr…Tr… as in Truck”

Hmmmm… I have no idea why the ‘ATE’ in “ PRIVATE” shouldn’t be pronounced like “8” or why the ‘ei’ in “eight” should. What exactly is a ‘ə’ anyway? “I’m not a reading teacher!” Anyway, that’s the gist of old literacy studies.

So, maybe we secondary teachers don’t actually know all that much about Old Literacy Studies, but still, we get the idea: If kids know enough rules to sound out words, they can read just about anything we give them, whether it’s a social studies text book or Hamlet. It’s an autonomous design: Learn to decode and you have power. It’s that simple.

Well… actually, no, it’s not that simple. And neither are the literacy events and practices we expect students to engage in when they enter our classrooms. That’s where New Literacy Studies gets interesting.

About 30 years ago, just about the same time as “You’ve got mail!” several out-of-the-box smart people from a few English-speaking countries got together and kicked around the idea that literacy was more than decoding, semiotics, and semantics. In the mid-1990s they saw how the rise in popularity of digital technology had the potential to radically change the way people produced and consumed all kinds of texts. They got so excited about this “New” idea that they made plans to meet in a small New England town, New London, New Hampshire, just to talk about it. And they did. They came to be known as “The New London Group.” What was their conclusion?

This might be a good time to get up, stretch, visit the bathroom and/or the refrigerator, maybe do a little yoga… Ok, here goes:

They decided that literacy is a social event embedded in a complex web of power-laden social and technological contexts that all revolve around texts and language. (Yes, English teachers; that’s what Pygmalion, written a century ago was all about… “Duh!”). Another way of looking at it is that literacy exists by means of some technology (a book, a sign, a billboard…) in a social space between a producer and a consumer. It involves ways of speaking, thinking, acting, and believing, which would mean that one’s identity and membership in social groups can and does affect meaning. This mutation from literacy as merely decoding to literacy as a social practice was coined “the social turn.”

So there. Move over Gutenberg!

That’s pretty much what they could agree upon. I can imagine the discussion got a bit contentious when they started thinking about the definition of “text.” Is an embroidery of birds on a pillowcase a text? Seriously, that’s an important question in the context of multiliteracies, but we’ll save that for another blog.

For now, let’s consider the “No Trespassing” sign above as a text. It’s not a Falkner novel or a Shakespeare play, “but ’tis enough, ’twill serve.”

Someone created the sign, someone nailed it to a tree, and there are indeed people who have come along and read it. The sign successfully transfers an idea from the sign’s producer to the consumer: “Keep off OUR property!” The literacy event is accomplished. What more might these New Literacy folks say?

Well…plenty. They would point out that that the posting and reading of the sign was but an event, part of a larger practice that brought together myriad social and power connections. The sign was initially a reaction to a legal context. At our annual HOA meeting, our lawyer noted that if we hadn’t posted these signs, we would be liable for any damages incurred by anyone who stepped onto our property. (Don’t you just LOVE lawyers?)

There’s also, of course, a power dynamic. Who are these potential trespassers? We can only imagine them happening by and reading our message: We own something/ you don’t/ you can’t have it/ We deserve it/ You don’t. Nanananana… “The sign said you got to have a membership card to get inside…Ugh!”

I’m sure y’all noticed the graffiti on the sign, probably a tag, a unique form of literacy that a certain group of people (in this case, graffiti writers) use to identify their work: Loosely translated, it says: “Hey, I’m somebody too!” And am I wrong to deduce a bit of anger and animosity?

If literacy, then, is all about contexts and social memberships, who gets to decide meaning? ELA teachers have heard this refrain before; it’s not new.

Student: “Mr. Lilly, I think Robert Frost’s ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ is about Santa Claus.”

I can’t remember my reply, but now in my current life, I call forth the literacy gurus:

Louise Rosenblatt would have said, “Ok, a reader has a right to make meaning out of otherwise meaningless symbols.”

E.D. Hirsch might exclain: “Hogwash! Go ask Frost!”

Michel Foucault would look up from his bath: “Go for it kid ‘cuz Robert Frost is dead!”

Here’s some song lyrics that were a bit more popular than Frost when I was a kid:

“Paranoia strikes deep. Into your life it will creep. It starts when you’re aways afraid. You step out of line, the man come and take you away.”
–Stephen Stills

In the words of the great Yogi Berra: “It’s like déjà vu all over again.” For you youngins (“Ok, Boomer…”), long before Post Malone, Lizzo, Chance, JayZ/ Beyoncé; long before Justin and Taylor, even before Back Street Boyz and still further back before AC/DC there was the Buffalo Springfield. Band member Stephen Stills, in 1967, during the tumultuous years of the Vietnam War and Civil Rights, immortalized these words in his “For What It’s Worth” which rocketed to #7 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.

Ok, what’s it about? Vietnam Protests? The Generation Gap? Was it a precursor to NWA? “Words, words, words.”

Nope, it was about an event in which riot police confronted a large gathering of young people who came together to protest a curfew in Hollywood, California. But to hundreds of thousands, it represented a division in America, an anti-establishment movement that exists to this day. If you don’t recognize the lyrics, I’ll bet if you click on the above link, you’ll recognize the tune. And if so, is the tune an integral part of the text? (If you actually click on that link, you’ve officially become involved in New Literacy Studies!)

Ok, that’s cool, but here’s the kicker: What happens to a text when it becomes older than the generation for which it was written? In the 1990s, about the same time the New London Group met in New Hampshire, the Buffalo Springfield band members (minus Neil Young, of course) all in middle-age, allowed their song to be used in a Miller Beer commercial. What?! An anthem of protest converted into an anthem of capitalism?! “Something’s happenin’ here. What it is ain’t exactly clear…”

Well, actually, it is quite clear. The baton had been passed to a new generation. The context, the setting, the medium, the identities and power dynamics of the producers and consumers had changed from social injustice to quaffing a cold one. If you think about it, it’s much like what kids experience when they march from math to social studies to ELA and to lunch, all in the course of a typical morning. Everything changes. Students might read the same word in each class’ lesson, (“plot,” for example), but it will have a totally different meaning as the bell rings and students march from one class to another. The fact that they can pull this off day after day demonstrates remarkable sophistication. No science teacher is going to accept a lab report written as a rhetorical composition. As soon as students cross the threshold into the science room, they abandon the aesthetics of poetry that defined the day’s ELA class and magically conform to the inductive reasoning espoused by Francis Bacon, whoever he was.

Where old school technology goes to die-
Alex Watson, CC.org

Nothing is benign; a literacy event is always at the intersection of competing contexts (identities, histories, cultures, purposes, technologies) that can wax and wane over time. While in the course of a single day, we demand students think like a historian, think like an artist, think like an author, think like a scientist, think like a mathematician, think like a musician; all of which require a different literacy practice.

This past March, those kids were sequestered to rooms in their home “castles” somewhere in the village or in places even Verizon won’t go. And at the flip of a switch we were found alone at our laptop at our kitchen table desperately trying to replicate the old literacy practices of a face-to-face classroom and project it onto the new, unseen, unfamiliar contexts of the students’ existence. We tapped out words that were meant to convey the same curriculum and the same standards, but we all sensed the inevitable: “Something’s happening here/ What it is ain’t exactly clear.” More than a few of us have been confronted students’ equivalent of “No Trespassing/ Keep Out;” maybe not in so many words,

This could be a very long, very hot summer!

Robert Davy “Protest” Licensed through Creative Commons

“What a field-day for the heat. A thousand people in the street. Singing songs and carrying signs. Mostly say, “Hooray for our sign!’…You step out of line, the man come and take you away. It’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound? Everybody look what’s going down…”

For what it’s worth, this New Literacy Studies stuff never gets old.

“It’s only words and words are all I have to take your heart away” –Shakespeare (Just kidding; it was the Bee Gees, and if that makes a difference to you, welcome to New Literacy Studies!)

About the Author

Todd Lilly has been a teacher for over 40 years, the majority of which was invested in middle and high school ELA and theater classes in and around Rochester, NY. Over the past 10 years he has served on undergraduate and graduate faculties in Wisconsin and currently at the University of South Carolina. He earned his Ph.D. in Curriculum and Instruction at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. His research interests include out-of-school literacy practices and the stories of marginalized, disenfranchised students. He is married to Dr. Catherine Compton-Lilly who holds the John C. Hungerpiller chair in the College of Education, University of South Carolina

By: Scott Buhr, South Carolina Physics Teacher

I was 11 years old when I got my first trumpet. My grandfather bought it for me and I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to learn how to play it. I had taken piano lessons for several years and I can remember my 11-year-old mind thinking, “The trumpet will be so much easier, it only has three buttons!” Silly right? I was taking my knowledge of the piano and superimposing it upon a completely different type of instrument. Sure, there are some things about playing the piano and the trumpet that are alike, but treating one like the other will leave your orchestra one instrument short. My piano literacy did not translate into trumpet literacy, who’d of thought?

Now twenty years later, I am an educator who thinks about the sort of transition that I went through from piano to trumpet on a daily basis. Each hour of the school-day, students arrive in my classroom from all sorts of differing classes—each one teaching them their own literacy practices. My job as a physics teacher is to teach my students how to think like a physicist. How do physicists solve problems? How do they think about the universe? How do they talk to each other about it? This is every teacher’s task. How do I get my students thinking like the professionals in this field think?

“QUARANTEACHING”—THE STRANGE TRANSITION FROM FACE-TO-FACE, BRICK-AND-MORTAR, GOOD-OLE-FASHION SCHOOL TO THE WHAT-IN-THE-WORLD, CRAZY-LAND OF ELEARNING.

Enter Covid-19. Suddenly, every teacher has been thrust into the unknown world of “quaranteaching”—the strange transition from face-to-face, brick-and-mortar, good-ole-fashion school to the what-in-the-world, crazy-land of eLearning. This unbelievable turn of events has forced teachers to make a literacy transition of their own. From the face-to-face to the virtual. Like many educators right now, you might be struggling to transition from the face-to-face environment that you know so much about to a completely digital experience. If you, like me, found the recent upset to feel rather normal and stress-free, then you might be a digital native—someone who was brought up with today’s technology and whose use of it feels less like using a prosthetic and more like using a natural appendage. Or, perhaps you would not consider yourself a digital native, but are comfortable adopting new technologies and have been for some time. Either way, there are many people whose comfort level with using all sorts of technology is high and there are some whose comfort is low. If you are an educator reading this, you probably could go through the names of the people in your department and pick out the ones who seem to like using technology just because it exists, the ones who avoid it at all costs, and everyone in between.

Now, I find myself in the comfortable position of being a digital native as well as having been enrolled in online grad classes for some time. My wife has taught virtually for years, and I am about to begin teaching my own virtual class. Many other teachers did not have my circumstances and were faced with the daunting challenge of online teaching with about two days notice.

Here is the interesting bit. I haven’t noticed that technology integration has been the biggest hurdle for teachers. Indeed, many teachers have been surrounded by all sorts of technology for quite some time—both in and out of the classroom. No, from my perspective, the biggest struggle for many teachers hasn’t been “How does this thing (Zoom, Google Docs, etc. . . ) work?” But instead, “How do I put it all together to work for me and my students?” “How should it work?”

The biggest struggle for many teachers is not “How does this thing work?”, but instead “How should this thing work?”

Let me explain:

I have seen many teachers share their plans of how they are going to replicate their classroom experience online. This includes bell work, short lectures, and even the possibility of taking tests online. These plans seem to elicit “oohs” and “aahs” for their elaborateness and are applauded for the fact that this teacher has created something so close to a brick and mortar classroom experience. Now don’t get me wrong, context is everything and there may be scenarios where any one of those strategies is really the best one for that particular age, class, or context. As a digital native though, here’s my two cents:

Is replicating the brick-and-mortar experience the best way to provide eLearning?

It is likely that your teacher-education program took a traditional approach to lesson planning and unit planning that involves students working linearly through materials as you guide them. This form very much fits the context of students who enter my classroom at the same time each weekday, stay about an hour, and leave with whatever, if anything, I have tasked them to do at home. Still doesn’t mean it is the best, but it certainly fits the context. Now, does a traditional lesson plan seem to fit our current context? Any online context?

Perhaps the nuts and bolts of the eLearning technology is really not the biggest issue. Maybe our approach to teaching in this sort of environment is what needs the most attention. Most online courses that I have taken have offered me less direct instruction and more opportunities to create things based upon research I have set out to accomplish with resources that the instructor has provided. That is, I have taught myself for the most part and then created some sort of product based upon my learning. Sometimes this has worked really well and other times it hasn’t.

The thing that has made this model the most successful is how the teacher approaches the class. If they take a “set it and forget it” approach, I am almost sure to be frustrated and unsure of what I am supposed to be doing. If, however, my first attempts on projects are met with specific, helpful feedback, then I am sure to thoroughly engage with the class.

Educational technologists have long towed the line that technology is a tool, but today it seems that the technology is more a context or environment than merely a tool.

So did you catch the key? Feedback. In my face-to-face classes, I provide this in a thousand small ways. Verbal feedback, facial expressions, and body language are paired with my planned materials to facilitate my being able to accurately gauge and respond to student understanding. Without those tools in an eLearning environment, my students will experience the same frustration that I had from my own online teachers who seemed to treat the courses I was in like an automated machine. In an online environment, many excellent teachers likely struggle to provide the incredible feedback that they normally would when working face-to-face. Could it be that the pressure to make eLearning look and feel like a traditional classroom is the wrong approach? Educational technologists have long towed the line that technology is a tool, but today it seems that the technology is more a context or environment than merely a tool. If my students are primarily engaging with me and my course through hardware and software, then hasn’t that repositioned the technology to more than just a tool? In fact, it becomes a whole different social discourse in which the ways we act, think, and communicate are quite foreign from the space of the traditional classroom. The literacy paradigm has changed. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

Personally I have faced this challenge with my honors physics students. I introduced them to a new online tool called MasteringPhysics as a part of my doctoral work. This platform provides immediate and elaborated feedback to my students, but many of them still struggled to connect with this feedback. This program is specifically designed to use a host of technological magic to give electronic feedback to students and yet they still struggle. How much harder it must be for new eLearning teachers to adjust to this new paradigm.

Hopefully, educators all across the country will begin to pressure themselves into designing online lessons rather than teaching lessons online.

Reshaping your thinking isn’t easy. Even as a digital native, I have found myself trying to force my prior learning experiences as a student onto my current classes. It just feels “right” sometimes. My 11-year-old self had to learn to treat the trumpet as a completely different instrument complete with all new ways of thinking about music. It could well be that teachers who have been thrust into eLearning need the same kind of adjustment in their thinking. So have you felt pressure as a teacher to replicate face-to-face style learning in the virtual world? Was this pressure internal or external? Hopefully, educators all across the country will come out of quarantine with a fresh perspective of the advantages and disadvantages of eLearning and begin to pressure themselves into designing online learning using online literacies rather than teaching lessons online. This is going to require New Literacy Studies.

About the Author

Scott Buhr is a high school physics teacher in Simpsonville, SC. He is a doctoral candidate at the U of SC College of Education studying Curriculum and Instruction. He has been involved with physics instruction, instructional design, and public speaking for nearly a decade. He was named in the Top Ten Teachers of the Year for Greenville County Schools in 2017-18 and shortly thereafter led his physics class to break a Guinness World Record. Scott also operates a small, gourmet popcorn business and actively ministers with his wife in their local church.