eLCC Closing Keynote Preamble
First off, I just wanted to thank Kae, Kristen, Chris, Amy (and formerly Paul and others) and everyone else who have worked so hard this year and in years past to make eLCC the incredible event and community that it is (and has been) for so many educators and technologists in Colorado. In my decade-plus working on the Auraria campus in Denver, I had the honor of working alongside a ton of amazing people, many who found unimaginable. support and inspiration from orbiting the eLCC network. So before I jump in and talk about infrastructure inversion and lose all credibility, I just wanted to thank and acknowledge those who have put in the tireless (and often thankless) work required to sustain a community and conference like this one (virtual or otherwise).
As Spencer mentioned in his opening keynote on Wednesday (and others since), I wanted to reiterate how inspiring it is to see the altruism and resourcefulness of the eLCC team during such challenging and unprecedented times. We all intuitively understand it to be the case, but I think it’s worth pointing out that we have no prior collective experience to turn to in order to understand the current moment and instill hopefulness and reassurance (in ourselves or others) — yet, in the sessions I’ve sat in on, I’ve felt unquestionable undercurrents of resilience and fortitude. I’ve heard laughter. Hearing Chris’ honest and infectious laugh in the blockchain session on Wednesday was the embodiment of hope and optimism that’s so critical. to bring alongside the inevitable grief and sorrow we’re all experiencing.
One of the practices (or perhaps more accurate to say, mental frameworks or lifestyles even) that I’ve really come to value (*almost as much as teaching) is that of improv. And whether classically trained or not, I can say with conviction that many involved in this event and community are exquisitely adaptive and selfless and embody all of the things I’ve come to love about the esoteric world that is improv theater.
In fact, one of the many quotes that has stuck with me that I think applies here is: Improvisation is the simple art of being completely OK with not knowing what the fuck your’re doing. — And I think we’re in a moment where we can all relate to and lean into that sentiment.
So, anyway, a big thank you to all those who continue to embrace the unknown and unfamiliar, and if you take one thing away from this event, please continue to embrace the art of improvisation as we all work to shape a new normal…both individually and collectively.
So I had planned to jump right into my slides and presentation, but after hearing from others over the past few days, I decided it was important to offer a bit of a preamble. I’m certainly excited to share some of my work, but given the irony of all of us sharing this virtual, techno-mediated experience right now, I thought it was important to first share a few reflections on the current rearranged landscape of education.
Status Quo
Should access to quality education be a human right? Not an American right, not a right for those who happen to have resources or the right zip code, but a global human right?
For many (typically low-income, rural, and minority students) high-speed internet access and endlessly interconnected digital devices (joining a conference on Zoom for example) is like owning a private jet (it’s unattainable, not even worth consideration) — even in the U.S. (the most “prosperous” country in the world), 14% of student households lack access to the internet entirely. Global pandemics aside, the status quo as we know it today is something we should all be struggling to accept, much less endorse.
And if the current challenges weren’t enough, the COVID pandemic has cast a harsh and revealing light on the inability of our already strained learning infrastructures to address these equity gaps. 25% of students in LA Unified schools are lacking computer access, leaving nearly 150,000 students unable to receive communications and assignments during these times of social isolation. A third of Michigan’s K-12 public school students have no access to the technology they need — that’s 500,000 students without internet access or a computer at home. Societally, we should be ashamed for having ignored this digital divide for so long (I know I’ve personally felt shame…it’s part of the reason I took a step back from my work in HigherEd). With global economies collapsing (let’s not kid ourselves, that’s what’s happening), we can no longer afford to sit idle and watch the gaps grow wider.
In a special COVID-19 Crisis Report released by InsideHigherEd, it was reported that 76% of university heads surveyed are concerned about access to online learning and platforms, and 57% about technological readiness to conduct online learning. Despite these concerns, 98% of institutions surveyed moved the majority of in-person classes online. With 48% of institutions needing additional support for instructional technology, it’s unequivocal: universities standing alone are not ready to bridge these divides, let alone be expected to bridge it equitably for all students.
This crisis demands we do more than make yet another politically-driven proclamation. It demands that we unite to address the issues we now all see in plain sight. To turn a blind eye (or to return to the familiar Status Quo) is to hand down an unacceptable, and likely unmanageable, cost to future generations. These circumstances necessitate the need for rapid, accelerated change, rather than the tired rhetoric and slow incremental progress many of us have long found comfort in. With every crisis comes both opportunity and threat. In this time of fear and uncertainty, an opportunity has emerged to leap-frog systemic inequities, and collaboratively build a more resilient and durable future, one which finally favors human potential and public goods over profits.
Historically, ensuring these affordances on a national scale has been a game of misguided investments at best, and vapid political pandering at worst. The American elite have always done a good job of signaling focus on equity and inclusion, but as indicated above, the stats tell a different story with regards to how this is truly playing out for many, if not most, students. They deserve better. We deserve better.
Pandemic-proof Equity Networks don’t need to be fictions.
At Learning Economy Foundation, we have little interest in adding to the corpus of tired rhetoric. In the coming years, we aim to take action. By providing greater agency, open internet access, and merit-based opportunity to all learners regardless of their race, gender, or zip code, we hope to finally bridge the digital divide and seed new networks of human potential. Alongside a novel virus, we see an opportunity for novel education and employment infrastructures; ones which don’t leave us shouldering the burden of having settled for the status quo.
