Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
– Arthur C. Clarke, “Profiles of the Future”
I am going to take a step backwards from the discussions about mobile devices centered on smart phones, iPads, and tablets to discuss my most recent encounter with mobile learning with less-advanced technology.
Our school just returned from a trip to Peru. We travel internationally with our students a number of times per year, but the July trip is always the most ambitious. Students spend two weeks preparing for the trip academically, studying the culture, food, religion, government, geography, history, flora and fauna of the region, as well as studying documentary filmmaking. We then spend two weeks exploring and traveling, with the students filming, taking photographs and conducting interviews with the goal of producing and premiering a documentary film.
This year, older students traveled in Peru while newer ones traveled in Costa Rica and Panama, so the driving question of the documentary needed to be something that would reveal a universal human characteristic, not investigate something site-specific. With this in mind, the students decided to interview people from all walks of life in all three countries and to end the interview by asking what their one wish would be if it could be granted. I loved this approach, as it connected the students to real people, instead of documenting simply the history of an area.
But the connection (and the tie-in to mobile learning) that I want to discuss here – and the one which made me think of Arthur C. Clarke’s quote above – happened on a small island in the center of Lake Titicaca. To arrive on the island – which had only solar electricity, no gasoline engines, obviously no internet or cell phone signals – we hiked for hours, took sail boats and then a ferry, and then climbed another hour to 13,000 feet. The whole time, I had a telescope strapped to my back (it was a gift from parents of a graduating student, and what better place to gaze at the stars.)
That night, as the Milky Way ran like a river across the darkening sky, we aligned the telescope and all gasped – students, teachers and locals alike – as we gazed at the rings of Saturn, saw the red giant Betelgeuse peacefully hiding its supernova destiny, and counted four moons around Jupiter. We were literally star struck. But, being adolescent boys, the novelty faded quickly, leaving me alone with two or three “Taquilenos”, the indigenous inhabitants of the island. We discussed the planets and the stars, and then Hector asked me how I thought the world would end.
As it turns out, he did have one piece of mobile communication to facilitate learning, a small, battery-powered transistor radio, where he had heard of the mounting hysteria surrounding the prophecies of the end of the world in December of 2012. Because it came over the radio along with the news, to Hector it was more than a prophecy, it was a fact.
I explained my opinion – that I believed the prophesies would end as all doomsday visions had, with a fizzle quieter than Y2k – and that if anything actually happened, I hoped it would be a dawning of a new age of knowledge rather than fire and brimstone. He thought about this somberly, contradictions to his radio coming from a guest, and concluded he did not know what to think.
Upon reflection, I realized that this encounter with Hector illustrates our need as educators to guide students in how they process the huge amount of information they have access to with mobile devices. Without that guidance, any information that is relayed by these technologies has the dangerous potential to become fact.
Hector and me