Wonderful, committed, I-sure-wish-I’d-had-her-when-I-was-in-second-grade (even though I had a wicked crush on Miss Fogg) second grade teacher Susan Hunberger has started a blog for her class. The coolness of this knocks my grade-school media experience sideways; yes, David Eddy and I did mimeograph a semi-underground school newspaper back in the sixties, but blogging in second grade would be a massive thrill. Especially when grown-ups from all over the world are leaving comments.
Which brings up a fascinating dimension of the matter: the varying ways that respondents address the second-grade authors. Some leave comments that look to me as though they’re taking part in a conversation with the second graders. That’s certainly what I was trying for — respectful attention to the authors and to other respondents, as though we were sitting around the family dinner table, batting ideas around. Other respondents, though, feel the need to tell the students what’s what. I’m sure Susan has the situation well in hand, but now I’m almost more interested in how Susan negotiates the varying voices that the blog students will be reading. (I have the feeling that this experience will play an important role in a presentation for a conference I’ll be addressing in the spring. I intend to challenge the conference-goers to begin to think of technology less as a pedagogical tool than as a pedagogical environment, though of course I’ll eschew spatial metaphors. I don’t treat gravity as a pedagogical tool; it’s just there, and I count on it to keep me vaguely tethered to the class I’m presumably teaching, but I don’t spend time thinking about gravity as a feature of my pedagogy. This connects with my presentation and Susan’s class inasmuch as the question of authority arises with particular force and complexity when one adds digital communication and technology to the pedagogical situation. Where some writers think the answer lies in filtering and editing web-based material, I will argue that the more immediate, appropriate response involves focusing the more vigilantly on students’ own capacity to ascertain the differences between “reliable” and “unreliable” information, an important human capacity that we ought to be doing better, always, regardless of whether we’re spotlighting technology in our pedagogy.)
Posted by AKMA at October 22, 2003 02:04 PM | TrackBackWhen Batman went home at the end of a night spent fighting crime, he put on a suit and tie and became Bruce Wayne. When Clark Kent saw a news story getting too hot, a phone booth hid his change into Superman. When you're programming, all the variables you juggle around are doing similar tricks as they present one face to you and a totally different one to the machine.
Posted by: Julius at January 13, 2004 01:49 AMWhen Batman went home at the end of a night spent fighting crime, he put on a suit and tie and became Bruce Wayne. When Clark Kent saw a news story getting too hot, a phone booth hid his change into Superman. When you're programming, all the variables you juggle around are doing similar tricks as they present one face to you and a totally different one to the machine.
Posted by: Dorothy at January 13, 2004 01:49 AMNote the new asterisks whenever we reference favoriteNumber, except for that new line right before the return.
Posted by: Dolora at January 13, 2004 01:50 AMThis back and forth is an important concept to understand in C programming, especially on the Mac's RISC architecture. Almost every variable you work with can be represented in 32 bits of memory: thirty-two 1s and 0s define the data that a simple variable can hold. There are exceptions, like on the new 64-bit G5s and in the 128-bit world of AltiVec
Posted by: Roman at January 13, 2004 09:15 AMThis will allow us to use a few functions we didn't have access to before. These lines are still a mystery for now, but we'll explain them soon. Now we'll start working within the main function, where favoriteNumber is declared and used. The first thing we need to do is change how we declare the variable. Instead of
Posted by: Rook at January 13, 2004 09:16 AMWhen a variable is finished with it's work, it does not go into retirement, and it is never mentioned again. Variables simply cease to exist, and the thirty-two bits of data that they held is released, so that some other variable may later use them.
Posted by: Andrew at January 13, 2004 09:17 AM