100 YEARS OF NEW MEDIA PEDAGOGY

1. Prelude

1. Trailer
2. Introduction
3. Behind the Scenes

2. Methodological Play

1. Introduction
2. Thin Description & Data Visualization
3. Media Archaeology
4. Multimodal Performance
5. Methods of Data Collection and Coding

3. Visualizing the Archive

1. Introduction
2. Trends Across the Corpus
3. Radio
4. Film & Video
5. Television
6. Computer
7. Word Frequencies by Decade
8. Zooming Out

4. Listening to Audio Pedagogies

1. Introduction
2. English via the Airwaves
3. Mid-Century Audio Recording Pedagogies
4. Afterlives of Radio
5. Pedagogical Inspirations

5. Re-Seeing Film & Video Pedagogies

1. Introduction
2. Silent Film Devils
3. Making Movies in the 30s
4. Super-8 and Camcorder Fun
5. Pedagogical Inspirations

6. Remembering the “Perils” of Television

1. Introduction
2. TV Talk
3. McLuhan Redesigning Pedagogy
4. Pedagogical Inspirations

7. Conversing With Computers

1. Introduction
2. Act 1: Imagining Computer Futures
3. Act 2: PC Software Revolutions
4. Act 3: A Networked Social Turn
5. Act 4: Reading & Writing the Web
6. Act 5: Digital, Multimodal Literacies
7. Pedagogical Inspirations

8. Coda: Back to the Future

1. Introduction
2. The 7 Keys to Multimodal Pedagogy
3. Can You Really Believe They Said That?
4. The 5 Weirdest Classroom Technologies
5. Which English Journal Author Are You?
6. Playing in the Archives

9. Credits

1. Acknowledgements
2. References
3. Production Notes

Remembering the “perils” of Television

TV Talk

N. B.: The voices in the call-in segment are those of actors and not the actual English Journal authors. The words the actors speak represent a blend of imaginative paraphrase and direct quotation from English Journal authors. If you wish to see which material is directly quoted, turn on the closed captions or view the transcript.

• Click to view transcript

  
  

  TV Talk (.txt version)

  [Audio: main theme music, interspersed with television static]
  [Video: montage of vintage television production clips; text on screen reads “TV Talk” and “Hosts: BEN and JASON”]
  [Video: in-studio shot, with co-hosts sitting in front of stack of television sets]

  Ben: Hi, this is Ben.

  Jason: And this is Jason.

  Ben: And you’re watching—

  Both: TV TALK!

  [Audio: audience applause]

  Ben: The show where we talk . . . about TV.

  Jason: In today’s episode, we talk about English teachers . . . talking about TV.

  Ben: Well, if you want to get technical about it, Jason, they were actually writing . . .

  Jason: Yeah, sure, of course. We’re talking about how English teachers seriously wrestled with the promises and the perils of TV as a teaching tool. We’ve got a great program lined up for you today.

  Ben: That’s right, Jason. We sure do. We have a round-up of funny TV metaphors, some pithy McLuhan aphorisms, some cautionary tales, and ecstatic hopes—some of which feel strangely contemporary today. And, as usual, we’ll end our show with our call-in segment. Any English teachers out there, start calling in now.

  [Video: cut-away to phone number, reads “1-800-867-5309”]
  [Audio: Tommy Tutone’s “867-5309” plays in background]

  Announcer: That’s 1-800-867-5309. That’s 1-800-867-5309. Call now!

  Ben: It’s time for our first segment, so let’s get started, shall we? “Why U Hatin’?”

  [Audio: audience applause]

  Ben: English teachers have mostly been receptive to new media, but TV? Not so much. I mean, sure, it had its defenders and champions, but they were definitely chugging the Haterade back then. In this segment, we ask that most pertinent question: Why did television piss in English teachers’ cornflakes?

  Jason: Well, I can’t speak to the cornflakes, but I think TV presented a new kind of threat to English teachers. I mean, film wasn’t as scary because people had to go to the theater to watch it. But TV: it’s in our homes and it’s on all the time. It threatens to replace the parent and the teacher! Some English teachers were so threatened by TV that they came up with outlandish ways to personify the menace they thought it posed!

  [Video: cut to in-studio shot of Ben, seated at anchor desk]

  Ben: And on that note, we’ve scraped the archives of English Journal and come up with our own top ten list of wackiest metaphors for TV. So strap yourself in and get ready to feel the Gs!

  [Audio: audience applause, circus themed music]

  Ben: Right?

  [Audio: timpani drums accompany announcement of each number]
  [Video: caption overlays duplicate each metaphor listed in narration]

  Ben: Number 10: Talking furniture (Sorenson 1989, 42);

  Number 9: A household fixture—you know, kinda like central heating or the kitchen sink (Foster 1981, 70);

  Number 8: Electronic parent or electronic babysitter (Witkin 1994, 31);

  Number 7: A caretaker for children (EDN 1992, 30);

  Number 6: An invading army. In 1954, Martin Rugg promoted the idea of school magazine stores as:

  [Video: cutaway to Jason against D-Day invasion backdrop, airplanes flying and mortars exploding in background]

  Jason: “. . . beachheads against the inroads of television” (522)

  Ben: Number 5: A monstrous industry devouring our youth (Kiley 1961, 438);

  Number 4: A hypnotist controlling children’s brains (Brunstein 1958, 566);

  Number 3: The infamous “boob tube” (Hazard and Hazard 1959; Tincher 1967; Foster 1984). In 1967, Ethel Tincher wrote:

  [Video: cutaway to Jason against backdrop of Globe Theatre, wearing theatrical hat]
  

  Jason: “TV or not TV? That is no longer the question. Whether ’tis nobler to eschew the ‘boob tube’ or to grasp it to one’s bosom is a choice made only by the media-uninformed teacher.” (Tincher 1967, 596)

  Ben: [slow clap] And speaking of boob tubes, let’s not forget . . . Number 2: “The great electronic mammary” (Spatafora 1976). In 1976, Jack Spatafora worried that:

  [Video: cutaway to Jason against backdrop of futuristic wall of television screens, wearing lace-fringed hat and holding handkerchief]

  Jason: “Over 100 million Americans are suckled nightly at this great electronic mammary” (52).

  Ben: And the Number 1 wackiest metaphor English teachers used in reference to television: “The electronic cyclops” (Nevi and Hoffine 1962, 562).

  [Audio: circus themed music and audience applause]

  Ben: Alright everybody—we’re done here!

  [Audio: sound of glass breaking as papers are thrown at camera]
  [Video: cut back to in-studio shot]

  Jason: This list is funny now, but at the time English teachers were deadly serious about TV’s harmful effects. I keep noticing how TV is gendered as a kind of uncanny replacement for the mother . . . or for the gendered labor of babysitters and teachers. It’s like this weird kind of monstrous feminine id that English teachers tried and failed to repress.

  Ben: And, of course, this kind of rhetoric continues today. Only now we worry about teenagers texting in class or learning all about life and sex from their smartphones rather than their parents.

  Jason: Too true. But you know, I think this fear of TV also takes on a unique cast in this period because of the influence of McLuhan on teacher’s thinking.

  Ben: Yeah! I mean, here you had this Canadian rock star scholar proclaiming that TV was cool and print was outdated. And McLuhan even went so far as to argue that children were learning much more from watching TV than they were in the classroom. And this freaked English teachers way the fuck out.

  Jason: Way the fuck out.

  Ben: We’ll take a closer look at that topic right after this commercial break.

  [Audio: main theme and audience applause cues fade to commercial]
  
  [Audio: dramatic synthesizer music plays throughout]

  Announcer: Coming this fall, a private eye from the future with a knack for understanding the shady underworld of mass media. He’s . . . MCLUHAN!

  [Video: explosion over title sequence]

  Announcer: He’s controversial . . .

  [Video: text captions over image of vintage television set]

  “McLuhan is a terrible infant in the profession of teaching English.”—David Bronson English Journal 1968, 1151

  “[M]uch of what McLuhan wrote and said [. . .] has fallen into disfavor”—David Burmester English Journal 1983, 95

  Announcer: . . . and maybe just a little bit misunderstood.

  [Audio: laser sound effect]

  [Video: clip of McLuhan from film Annie Hall]

  McLuhan: I heard what you were saying. You know nothing of my work!

  Announcer: The critics are raving.

  [Video: text captions over images of Marshall McLuhan]

  “It’s hard to argue with Marshall McLuhan.”—Robert Kraft English Journal 1973, 1101

  “Marshall McLuhan . . . [is] making] us aware of the impact of the new media”—Nancy Cromer English Journal 1975, 71

  Announcer: Come see what all the fuss is about when McLuhan helps us make sense of TV, radio, film and more, in his signature cryptic, aphoristic manner.

  [Video: clip from Marshall McLuhan interview]

  McLuhan: When you look in the rearview mirror, you do not see what has gone past. You see what is coming.

  [Video: explosion over title sequence]

  Announcer: That’s MCLUHAN! Coming this fall, Fridays at eight pm Eastern Standard Time, only on this station!

  [Audio: main theme music, interspersed with television static; audience applause]
  [Video: TV Talk title montage; cut to in-studio shot]

  Jason: Welcome back to TV Talk. In light of the highly anticipated new show MCLUHAN! coming this fall . . .

  Ben: Omigod! I cannot wait! It looks so awesome!

  Jason: I know, right? We want to take a moment to look back at some of the fears and hopes that shaped English teachers’ relationship with television over time.

  [Audio: segment music plays over title caption reading “Fears and Hopes,” followed by audience applause]

  Ben: English teachers didn’t just use quirky metaphors to show the encroaching menace of television, they cited hard statistics too.

  [Audio: horror music swells during segment, ending abruptly at end of speaker’s line]
  [Video: studio backdrop cuts to evil television illustration]

  Ben: For example, in 1958, James Brunstein worried about teenagers watching “12–15 hours of television” a week (566). In 1963, Howard Rowland was concerned that “The American teenager spends twenty-one hours each week, fifty-two weeks each year, watching TV—more time than he spends in the classroom” (693). By 1980, David England fretted that students were watching “four to eight hours” of TV every single day—or up to fifty-six hours a week (83).

  Jason: That is, to use a technical term, a shit-ton of TV. With all this watching of the boob tube, teachers worried that students were no longer interested in reading. But, instead of just bemoaning this fact, they started to find creative ways to pair TV programs with literary works—to help students critically analyze the differences and the similarities between print and TV media.

  Ben: And, it wasn’t just that all this time was taken away from reading; teachers also rightfully worried about how many advertisements young people were subjected to each day. One teacher, Chris Eisele (England and Eisele 1981), even went so far as to argue that TV should be banned in school so that students are not forced to watch corporate propaganda

  Jason: You know, some days I feel the same way about the internet. I mean we have to worry not just about social media showing ads to our students, but also about it harvesting all their personal data. And spreading harmful lies that threaten democracy itself. We are living in a technological dystopia!

  [Video: short clip of televised news segment featuring President Trump]
  

  Trump: You are fake news! Go ahead.

  Ben: Agreed. Let’s just quit the field, go out and build us a cabin in the woods.

  [Video: cutaways to shots of articles alluded to in Jason’s dialogue]

  Jason: I am so there with you. But in the end, I think I side with the teachers who argued that we need to help students fight back against corporate media, rather than just ignore it. I connect with the teachers who combined media critique and production by having students make TV parody ads, write protest letters to TV executives, or make their own public service news programs.

  Ben: Yeah, I also loved that English teachers actively reached out to industry executives in an attempt to improve the quality of TV programming. In 1955, English Journal published an extended dialogue between English teachers and TV producers about best practices for adapting literature to TV (Forsdale 1955). Today, we’d have some critical questions for digital media execs like The Zuck—

  Jason: Ugh!

  Ben: . . . But the idea that English teachers should advocate for media industry change remains very timely.

  Jason: Preach. And with that, it’s time for another commercial break—we’ll see you on the other side!

  [Audio: main theme and audience applause cues fade to commercial]
  [Video: image of student asleep next to textbooks; black-and-white shot of hand knocking over old books]

  Announcer 1: Tired of your students falling asleep in class because or your boring old lectures? Well, jazz up your class with a TV!

  [Audio: swoosh sound effect; enthusiastic retro-style music plays throughout]
  [Video: shot of retro TV set with flashing image of Shakespeare wearing sunglasses; zoom in on image, with caption overlay reading “TV: Deal with it”]

  Announcer 1: The TV can make Shakespeare jump off the dusty page and come alive! Wherefore art thou? On the TV!

  [Audio: swoosh sound effect]
  [Video: rotating image of retro TV set, with caption overlay reading “Get a TV!”]

  Announcer 1: With the TV, you don’t even need a lesson plan. TV is the lesson plan. Just turn it on, dim the lights, and recover from your late night.

  [Audio: background music stops]
  [Video: cutaway of hungover teacher sitting at desk and turning on television set with remote control]
  [Audio: swoosh sound effect and main music reenters]
  [Video: figure wearing lab coat stands beside retro TV set, gesturing during voiceover; caption overlays duplicate voiceover dialogue]

  Announcer 1: TV is the best invention since the chalkboard. It lectures, it babysits, it educates, it entertains, it changes hearts and minds.

  [Audio: swoosh sound effect]

  Announcer 2: So act now and order your TV today! Call us at 1-800-TV-TEACH. Operators are standing by. That’s 1-800-TV-TEACH!

  [Audio: main theme music, interspersed with television static; audience applause]
  [Video: TV Talk title montage; cut to in-studio shot]

  Ben: Well that was . . . loud. Anyway, we’re glad you’re still with us. Now, it’s time for our call-in segment: “Where’s the Beef?”

  [Video: caption overlay reads “Where’s the Beef?”; cutaway to clip of 1984 Wendy’s commercial, with actress Clara Peller saying “Where’s the Beef?”]

  Ben: . . . where you tell us all about the exciting things you do with your class that involve TV. Are you an English teacher who has taught with TV in innovative ways? We want to hear from you. Jim, do you have our first caller?

  Jim: [Nods silently, giving thumbs up sign]

  Ben: Put ’em through. Hi caller, you are on TV Talk.

  [Video: cutaway to phone graphic with text overlay identifying caller
  [Audio: voice is distorted and compressed]

  Robert Meadows: Robert Meadows here. Long time, first time. Back in the sixties, I had my students collaboratively make their own TV programs based on fairy tales.

  Jason: Cool . . . what kind of equipment did you use?

  Meadows: Well we didn’t have any cameras then, so I had them perform live for the class.

  Ben: Okay, that works. What do you think they learned in all this, Robert?

  Meadows: I found that they learned a lot about audience and the craft of script writing. I could hear them debating in their small groups all the small choices they had of image and word and they were looking to their fellows, not me, for their answers.

  Jason: If you have once piece of advice for today’s TV teachers, what would it be?

  Meadows: Hmm. I’d say, “It’s what the students learn [when making TV], what they discover in a process that really concerns me as a teacher [. . .]. Evaluation is not an end product, nor is it solely a teacher activity. By virtue of [. . .] making choices, the students are evaluating constantly” (Meadows 1967, 124).

  Ben: Sir, you are a master TV teacher! I love the idea that the process of making rhetorical choices is what counts the most in your class. Thanks for calling.

  Jason: Yeah, I mean, this is great stuff. Jim can you get us another one?

  Jim: [Nods silently, giving thumbs up sign]

  Jason: Caller, you are on TV Talk.

  [Video: cutaway to phone graphic with text overlay identifying caller; voice is distorted and compressed]

  Dennis Kraynak: Hello? Am I on the air? This is Dennis.

  Ben: Yes, go ahead, Dennis.

  Kraynak: Good, good. Back in the 1980s, I taught an upper level English elective where students made their own public access TV programs. The cable company came out to our school and everything. They recorded the students right on site for free!

  Ben: That’s cool! How did you arrange that?

  Kraynak: It was easy . . . I just had to call them up and ask. “I knew the FCC liked to see some programming in the public interest—community-oriented material. It makes for good PR, especially for cable companies who have closer ties to individual communities than do the networks” (Kranak 1987, 53).

  Ben: Democratize the networks, man. We forget how revolutionary public access really was.

  Jason:  You know, we do. We really do.

  Kraynak: That’s right, but it was also serious business. I ran my class like a real studio. “Announcers and technical crew were allowed only one major goof before being assigned to a less responsible job (such as ‘gofer’)” (54). That kept the students motivated.

  Jason: You, sir, do not fuck around.

  Kraynak: No, no, I do not. But I would never have allowed such language on MY show. I wouldn’t even allow “controversial topics or guests” (54) to make sure we were able to stay on air.

  Jason: Oh dear, I apologize for my language, but I do find it a little disappointing that students couldn’t really take on the controversial topics of their day.

  Kraynak: Well, that’s the way it was. But we still had fun. It wasn’t just school news. We also “had cooking segments, stand-up comedy, mini wrestling matches, whatever would fit in my classroom” (54) —WAIT A MINUTE, I’m on the phone—Well, I have to go now. Goodbye—

  [Audio: dial tone]

  Ben: Thanks caller. Wrestling matches? Dude that sounds awesome.

  Jason: So awesome! Yeah . . . I totally would have wanted to be in that class, but I bet I would have been fired for trying to do controversial exposes. I guess it’s a reminder that production pedagogies aren’t always all that progressive if they conform to traditional media norms.

  Ben: True . . . Okay, Jim, next caller please.

  Jim: [Nods silently, giving thumbs up sign]

  Ben: Caller, you’re on TV Talk.

  [Video: cutaway to phone graphic with text overlay identifying caller; voice is distorted and compressed]

  Nancy Janek: Hi, this is Nancy, and while I didn’t have students make TV, I actually taught on TV myself in the 1990s. We were a rural school district, and not all schools had enough students for AP English Language and Composition. So, I taught a class on closed circuit TV for students at multiple schools. I even wrote an article about it in English Journal!

  Jason: Cool. You know, I think we read that one. Jim, could you pull it up?

  Jim: [Nods silently, giving thumbs up sign before cutaway to shot of Janek article]

  Jason: So how did you find teaching on TV to be different from the regular classroom?

  Janek: Actually, “my daily teaching, lecture-discussion style didn’t change much. I only had to remember to look at the teacher-camera rather than at my monitors to maintain eye contact with my network students as well as with my in-class students” (Janek 1995, 54).

  Jason: Okay. Any advice for other TV teachers?

  Janek: Yes. A lot of teachers worry that discipline will be a problem in the offsite classes, but it’s not if you videotape the students. I had students and their parents “sign a form agreeing to a code of behavior and to being videotaped and observed without their knowledge” (55) That really keeps them on their toes.

  Ben: That sounds—wait, whaaaat?

  Jason: Hmmm . . . have you ever heard of the panopticon?

  Janek: Panopta-what? I retired a while ago so I’m not up on the latest tech.

  Jason: Okay, caller. Thanks for your thoughts.

  Ben: Yet another reminder that new tech isn’t always liberatory. Surveillance culture runs deep when it comes to new media teaching.

  Jason: Indeed. It does. Jim, I think we have time for one more.

  Jim: [Nods silently, giving thumbs up sign]

  Jason: Caller, you are on TV Talk—go ahead.

  [Video: cutaway to phone graphic with text overlay identifying caller; voice is distorted and compressed]

  Margo Sorenson: Hi, this is Margo. I’m loving this program.

  Ben: Thanks Margo! What’s your experience teaching with TV?

  Sorenson: Back in the late eighties, I taught a TV unit in seventh grade English where students learned to rhetorically analyze and critique news and commercials. I remember the advertising unit was especially fun. Students really got into watching TV commercials and analyzing their audiences, their emotional appeals, their logical fallacies. And, then they worked in groups to write and perform their own parody ads that were as deceptive as they could possibly be.

  Ben: Awesome. You were culture jamming before culture jamming was cool.

  Sorenson: We sure were! “Students set to work enthusiastically, and the day the scripts and performances were due was filled with anticipation and hilarity. After each performance, the performers asked the class to identify the tone, the audience, the emotional appeals, and the methods used to deceive with statistics” (Sorenson 1989, 44).

  Jason: You know, I love love love the blend of rhetorical analysis and production in your classroom!

  Sorenson: Thanks. I remember this one hilarious diaper ad students made. “Despite hysterical giggles at the sight of two seventh-grade boys wearing towels pinned like diapers, there was serious learning going on” (42).

  Ben: Wait a second . . . that sounds familiar. Did you write about this in English Journal?

  Sorenson: Why yes I did . . . and I had the script of the ad and picture too!

  Ben: Jim, can you pull that up?

  Jim: [Nods silently, giving thumbs up sign before cutting to article pages on screen]

  Jason: That’s hilarious and meaningful. I can say that you found a way to make rhetorical analysis fun and engaging. Thanks for sharing, Margo.

  Ben: Well that’s all the time we have for this segment . . . But don’t leave just yet—there’s more TV Talk right after this commercial break . . .

  [Audio: main theme and audience applause cues fade to commercial]
  [Audio: upbeat polka theme plays throughout]
  [Video: Snuggies Diaper logo; cut to crudely animated image of students performing diaper commercial from English Journal article; intercut with image of Snuggies diaper box, Snuggies satisfaction graph, and Snuggies diaper logo]

  Pitch man: Having trouble with your diapers? If so, try Snuggies, like Ryan!

  [Audio: swoosh sound effect as product box shows up on screen]

  Pitch man: One hundred percent of all babies tested preferred Snuggies. Here’s a graph showing the percent of happy babies wearing Snuggies—isn’t that great? All the best parents buy Snuggies for their babies!

  [Audio: main theme music, interspersed with television static, followed by audience applause]
  [Video: TV Talk title montage; cut to in-studio shot]

  Ben: And we’re back. So, Jason, what are you taking away from this episode of TV Talk?

  Jason: I’m just fascinated by how the TV got rhetorically figured as a kind of threat to heteropatriarchal structures of the family and the classroom. It reminds us that cultures often displace their anxieties onto new technologies in some really problematic ways.

  Ben: Agreed. But, I think this figuring of TV as a threat had both upsides and downsides. It definitely seemed to limit interest in production pedagogy, but at the same time it really increased a focus on teaching critical media literacy. And, I’m inspired personally by teachers like Margo Sorenson who really showed how critical analysis and playful production can work together.

  Jason: Yeah, you know,  I just love teachers like Margo and Robert who let students collaboratively make silly TV programs and even have some control over how their work was evaluated. That’s just awesome. They really show that media critique does not have to be deadly dull . . . it can be fun.

  Ben: Exactly! And while those teachers mostly had students make fake TV programs, it’s a lot easier for us today to use digital video to reimagine cultural critique in some silly ways.

  Jason: Yes, that’s what we’re doing here. We’re not just fucking around with stupid iMovie effects, we are queering media criticism!

  Ben: Word. Well, that’s all the time we have for now. See you next week when we will take a deep dive into the sordid relationship between Mork and Mindy. Until then: Nanu Nanu!

  [Audio: main theme and audience applause cues fade to end credits]
  [Video: end credits scroll; text reads “Hosts, Ben McCorkle and Jason Palmeri; Special Guests: Gavin Johnson as Robert Meadows, Nicole M. Pizzaro as Nancy Janek, Jessie Male as Margo Sorenson, and featuring Ben Jolliff as Jim; Filmed primarily May 14–15, 2018 at the Denney Hall Digital Union Studio, Ohio State University, and on location in Columbus, Ohio. Edited with iMovie 10.1.8)”]

  Media assets used in this production listed in Production Notes.

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