Tagged Twitter

Twitter exchange between instructor and student about how one author was connected to the British royal family but could find no biographical information on her. One tweet also has a picture of Han Solo from the movie Star Wars.
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Possibly Impossible; Or, Teaching Undergraduates to Confront Digital and Archival Research Methodologies, Social Media Networking, and Potential Failure

Abstract

This article details an undergraduate student research project titled “The Possibly Impossible Research Project,” a collaborative effort between the Baldwin Library of Historical Children’s Literature at the University of Florida and the Writing and Communication Program at the Georgia Institute of Technology. The article outlines the pedagogy behind a multimodal digital research project that provided Georgia Tech students with in-depth instruction into archival research processes while improving the Baldwin’s annotated bibliography. The article then details the process of teaching the course and how students responded to the project both during and after the course. This assignment also offered students an opportunity to uncover and make meaning as researchers in their own right, and to distribute that new knowledge through public facing digital platforms such as Twitter and Wikipedia. The authors conclude that the collaborative project had meaningful impacts on the undergraduate students, the course instructor, the curator of the Baldwin Library, and the larger academic community; further, it can serve as a model for engaging undergraduate students with archival research, analysis, and dissemination. This article outlines the assignment in detail, including the interactive digital scaffolding assignments. The article cites student research journal tweets and final reflective portfolio essays to demonstrate the successful fulfillment of the student learning outcomes.

“There’s no use trying,” [Alice] said: “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There (1871)

Introduction

For first-year undergraduate students, college work can feel like the expectation to do the impossible. When confronted with projects that require original research, these students may feel ill-equipped to engage with unfamiliar techniques and may give up without even trying. If, by emulating Lewis Carroll’s Red Queen from Through the Looking-Glass, instructors can encourage students to practice believing in their ability to achieve “impossible” things, and create a situation in which it is acceptable to fail, students can begin to feel secure enough to try for the impossible.

In this spirit, our article details an undergraduate student research project titled “The Possibly Impossible Research Project,” a collaborative effort between the Baldwin Library of Historical Children’s Literature at the University of Florida and the Writing and Communication Program at the Georgia Institute of Technology. This article outlines a multimodal digital research project that provided Georgia Tech students with in-depth instruction into archival research processes while improving the Baldwin’s “Guiding Science” annotated bibliography. This assignment also offered students an opportunity to uncover and make meaning as researchers in their own right, and to distribute that new knowledge through public-facing digital platforms such as Twitter and Wikipedia. Overall, the project produced a meaningful collaboration among the undergraduate students, the course instructor, and the curator of the Baldwin Library, while contributing knowledge to the larger academic community. Further, it can serve as a model for engaging undergraduate students with archival research, analysis, and dissemination.

“Guiding Science” Bibliography Project

The contributions of women to early scientific discoveries and the dissemination of international scientific theory are still largely unknown outside of the fields of children’s literature and the history of education. In 2014, the Baldwin Library of Historical Children’s Literature was awarded an American Libraries Association Carnegie-Whitney grant to develop a digital annotated bibliography of women-authored science books for children during the long nineteenth century. As an ancillary to “Guiding Science: Publications by Women in the Romantic and Victorian Ages,” the George A. Smathers Libraries digitized 200 titles from the project to provide context to the bibliography and encourage use of these texts in teaching and research.[1]

One of the main aims of the bibliography project was to highlight the important—and often neglected—work of women to promote scientific invention, discovery, and the development of the scientific method. However, with the professionalization of the sciences from the home to the academy, the work of these women was ignored and, in some cases, maligned. As science formalized fields of study and work, women were pushed out of their work as lab assistants and translators of scientific theory. Since women could not receive any formal training in sciences (women were not allowed to attend universities in Great Britain until the twentieth century, and very few women were able to attend universities in the United States until then), they were relegated to the role of mere amateur. Their previous work as authors, educators, and partners in scientific discovery was forgotten or dismissed as being of lesser quality than that of their formally trained male counterparts.

In compiling the bibliography, the Baldwin Library curator, Suzan Alteri, identified titles, authors, and subjects in the library’s online catalog. Identifying subjects proved difficult since the many fields of science during these eras fell under the umbrella of natural history. In order to fully capture the scope of scientific endeavors, it was necessary to keyword search scientific concepts rather than broad science subject fields. In searching for titles to include in the project, Alteri discovered many anonymously written titles. Since the project had already identified many books written by women, Alteri began to wonder how many of the anonymously written titles were actually authored by women. Because of the enormous legal and social barriers to education, work, and full participation in society before and during the nineteenth century, books authored by women were often published anonymously so as to avoid derision, as Cheryl Turner noted in Living by the Pen: Women Writers in the Eighteenth Century (2012).[2]

In addition to the bibliography, Alteri felt it was necessary to add additional contextual information so readers would understand the time period and constraints under which these women were writing while also providing a better understanding of how science and science education developed in tandem. Since the project was rooted in the idea of discovering the hidden work of these women, Alteri believed one of the most important aspects of contextual information would be biographical information on the authors. Since most women did not receive a formal education until at least the mid-nineteenth century, how were they able to write so many crucial texts for science education? By tracing biographical details such as familial status, exposure to education through tutors, and other pathways to education, Alteri thought that readers of the bibliography would be better able to grasp women authors’ contributions to literature, education, and science. Moreover, compiling biographical details often uncovered interesting facts about how women’s writing was received by both the scientific community and how their entry into the public sphere, as writers, was viewed by society.

However, finding biographical information on over one hundred different women authors who wrote in the eighteenth and much of the nineteenth century was surprisingly difficult. While some writers, such as Sarah Trimmer, wrote numerous texts and are well-known for their contributions to early children’s literature, many women authors did not sign all or any of their books. This tendency to leave texts unclaimed was compounded by the fact that in British society of the time, vital record information was not regularly kept on daughters and wives. Since Alteri was working alone to compile biographical information, tracking vital record information would have been too laborious a process. Instead, Alteri opted to search the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography and Wikipedia for biographical information. The ODNB was originally published in 1885 (and continuously updated) as the Dictionary of National Biography, a biographical listing of important peoples from Great Britain and its colonies. Wikipedia was used for the small number of American authors.

Searching biographical dictionaries by name yielded interesting results. For authors who had their own entries, summarizing biographical information was simple. For others, scant biographical information was discovered through more famous husbands and brothers. For example, a few sentences on Emily Taylor are contained in her brother’s entry, Edgar Taylor. As noted earlier, women writers often faced steep criticism for entering the public sphere of professional writing, and many simply published under their married names—Mrs. Thrope or Mrs. Brook—or signed their work as “A Lady” or “A Mother.” Alteri was able to cobble some information together by searching for male relatives, particularly if, as in the case of Mrs. Norman Lockyer, they were scholars of some note. A very small number of authors were able to be tracked through their publications, since most books of the time period contained the phrase “By the Author of…” Still, out of the 123 authors listed in the bibliography, fifty authors, or forty percent, were untraceable by these methods. Alteri was struck by how large the percentage was, but struggled with how to convey a partially successful recovery project to end users of the bibliography. For Alteri, and other scholars on the original project, it was obvious that the barriers to women’s education and participation in the public sphere in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were the result of sexist practices, but would people unfamiliar with children’s literature, women’s history, and feminist recovery projects understand the impact of having no information on a person except a copy of a book? By compiling biographical information on these women authors, it is not only their texts and ideas which are recovered, but their lives as well.

Undergraduate Research Collaboration

As chair of the Baldwin Library’s Scholars Council, instructor Rebekah Fitzsimmons of the Georgia Tech Writing and Communication Program (WCP) was familiar with the goals of the “Guiding Science” project and the curator’s struggles. WCP houses the core communication courses for Georgia Tech, including the two-semester composition sequence, and emphasizes multimodal communication through the WOVEN (Written, Oral, Visual, Electronic, and Nonverbal) framework. English 1102, “continues to help students learn how to communicate more effectively, but with a greater emphasis on research, argument, and applied theory. Instructors of English 1102 construct courses around intellectually engaging and relevant themes from science, technology, literature, and popular culture.” The course also encourages projects that “help students learn the role that research plays in formulating social and cultural ideas.” Inspired by conversations in the popular media surrounding the #MeToo movement and films like Hidden Figures (2016), Fitzsimmons felt students at an elite technical institute would benefit from a research project that not only highlighted the vast number of women involved in scientific discovery during the Victorian age, but also actively demonstrated the ways in which the accomplishments of those women were forgotten or actively appropriated by others.

Fitzsimmons and Alteri collaborated to design an ENGL 1102 course that would provide Georgia Tech students the opportunity to contribute original research to the “Guiding Science” bibliography. The resulting course was titled “The History and Rhetoric of Science Writing for Children” (syllabus available here). Students were asked to think through the ways rhetorical communities of science writing—especially those focused around education—changed given various historical moments, and the ways in which certain voices within those communities have long been privileged, ignored, or actively silenced. Students read children’s literature with scientific themes, including Charles Kingsley’s The Water-Babies (1862), Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden (1911), Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time (1962), and contemporary (2011–present) science-themed picture books. Engaging with primary texts and secondary critical literature, classroom discussion touched on the historical transformations of “scientific” ideas about race, gender, evolution, astronomy, mechanics, health (physical and mental), professionalization, and science education from the Victorian age into the twenty-first century. In dedicating the research unit of the course to investigating the lives of these lost Victorian science authors, the students engaged with real world examples of Victorian women working in and writing about the sciences with academic rigor, creativity, and a dedication to educating young people about physics, chemistry, astronomy, natural history, hygiene, horticulture, home economics, and geography.

The course utilized Paulo Freire’s problem-posing education model within a Critical Digital Pedagogy framework, which encouraged the students to experiment, play, improvise, and fail as a part of the learning process. In their book An Urgency of Teachers: The Work of Critical Digital Pedagogy, Morris and Stommel (2018, 23) note that “Digital pedagogy calls for ‘screwing around’ (Ramsay) more than it does systematic study . . . digital pedagogy is less about knowing and more a rampant process of unlearning, play, and rediscovery.” By embracing this model of learning, the course was designed to empower students to interrogate the rhetorics of scientific discourse that would be relevant to most of their future careers in the STEM fields, while breaking the hierarchical model of the classroom to encourage students to collaborate with the professor and one another. This process helped the students to make meaning, including applying this work to their own professional fields and connecting their developing skills to future projects and goals.[3] In addition, folding original research into the course exposed students to primary sources in literature and research processes using special collections and archival materials. Since special collections and archives are often viewed as the laboratories of the humanities, many of the research methods used by scholars in special collections and archives mimic those used in scientific laboratories, particularly observation and testing.[4] In this case study, students began with observations about science during the Victorian age, developed questions regarding their chosen author, and then began to “test,” through interrogation, various sources for biographical information. As Anne Bahde (2011, 75) states, allowing undergraduate students to interact, even digitally, with primary sources can “provoke an unusual level of critical inquiry.” Primary sources are often neglected in many undergraduate courses either due to curricular time constraints or pedagogical biases that reserve primary source research processes for graduate students. However, Pablo Alvarez (2006, 95), and others, document how using rare books in the undergraduate curriculum can “offer new perspectives that can lead to original research.” Students are often more engaged with primary source material, either due to the uniqueness of the resources or their novelty as a relic of times gone by. Providing students with the opportunity to act as a professional researcher helps them become more responsible and empowers them to drive their own education. The focus on process and experimentation in this project allows students to work, sometimes for the first time, in a space without a preconceived notion of right or wrong answers and a shared sense of authority within the classroom.

The Possibly Impossible Research Project” asked students to assist the curator of the Baldwin in researching the fifty female authors from the “Guiding Science” bibliography about whom she had been unable to locate sufficient biographical information. Each student was assigned one author and asked to research and compile enough information to complete either a multimodal Wikipedia article or a short textual biography to be posted on the “Guiding Science” website. Each student was given all the information Alteri had already compiled as a starting point, which might include lifespan dates, family information, known pen-names, or country of origin.

This assignment acknowledged from the outset that the chance of authoring any kind of public-facing biography might not be achievable. From the very title of the assignment, it was important for students to understand that the ultimate goal of the project might well be out of reach (as it was for the curator). Therefore, the assignment was structured to help students learn good research practices and goals, engage with various digital learning communities, and document their work with an eye toward process over final product.

The final project deliverable was a research portfolio, which permitted students to mix and match at least three of the following elements based on the information they found:

  • Multimodal biographical article posted on Wikipedia
  • Public-facing biography for the Baldwin “Guiding Science” website
  • Bibliography of sources in MLA format
  • Archived Twitter research journal
  • Research narrative of 600–800 words
  • Archived correspondence with librarians, scholars, archivists, or other experts
  • Archived images

The assignment sheet and in-class discussions emphasized that while the ideal outcome of the project was a public-facing biography, it was possible that students could fulfill the required learning outcomes of the assignment and earn an A even if they could not complete this portion of the portfolio. Ultimately, the assignment sheet instructed: “Students should approach this project as a journey into the unknown. They should be prepared to make mistakes, get messy, and potentially come up empty-handed.[5] A large part of the project will include figuring out how to make failure and frustration productive, how to document a research process so that future researchers might benefit, and how to enjoy the research rabbit holes.”

Pedagogical Goals

This assignment focused on four major pedagogical goals. The first was content related: to have students engage with historical records and the rhetoric of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century scientific communities. The women represented in the bibliography project were talented, often prolific authors; many were also brilliant scientific thinkers and researchers in their own right. However, due to the social and political realities of the Victorian age, the vast majority of these women were denied opportunities to practice scientific inquiry in any professional sphere or were considered mere assistants in the scientific careers of male relatives such as a husband, father, or brother.[6] Prior to the Victorian age, scientific discovery occurred in the home, which could make it easier for women to participate. But the professionalization of scientific inquiry into academic fields developed rapidly during the nineteenth century. Ann B. Shteir (1997, 236) notes that burgeoning professionalization coupled with the restriction of women in public sphere created circumstances which instilled “more exclusionary relations between women and science culture.”

At a technical institute that only began accepting female students into regular classes in 1952, this assignment offered an opportunity to have students encounter firsthand the ways in which science relegated these women to the sidelines. By asking twenty-first-century students to research nineteenth-century female authors, the feminist lens of this assignment pushed students to ask (often in outbursts of frustration, such as the Tweets pictured below) why these women’s lives weren’t better documented. This project, aided by classroom discussions, directly confronted the myths that the lack of women in STEM fields is due to disinterest or biological/psychological dispositions of different genders, or that women have only begun to be involved in STEM in the last 50 years.

Twitter exchange between instructor and student about how one author was connected to the British royal family but could find no biographical information on her. One tweet also has a picture of Han Solo from the movie Star Wars.

Figure 1. #RJ tweet exchange between the instructor and student Cheyenne Murray, who voices frustration about the lack of information about an author with significant political connections. (see original tweet: https://twitter.com/eng_1102_Murray/status/961018874882912257)

 

Twitter conversation between students about how they can find more information about women authors’ male relatives than the actual authors themselves.

Figure 2. #RJ tweet exchange between three students noting the ease of locating information on male relatives compared to the female authors. (https://twitter.com/nawereGT/status/962083179191590912)

The second goal was to help students move beyond Google and to harness digital research technologies, including social media, to find information. To encourage collaboration and professional networking, students were assigned two required and one optional digital scaffolding components. First, students kept a real-time research journal via Twitter (see next section), where they regularly reported the steps in their research process over the course of one month. Second, each student wrote a WordPress blog post summarizing their work approximately halfway through the project and then responded to two other posts with constructive feedback. These posts were included on the course blog, a public-facing website, with all student names anonymized. Third, one of the final portfolio options allowed students to include an archive of their email communications with experts from outside the class. This last optional component was rather broadly sketched in the assignment, but students were given an in-class tutorial on how to compose a polite, professional email asking librarians, curators, publishers, archivists, or other scholars for information or research assistance.[7]

Tweet showing how a student was able to contact the Massachusetts Vital Records Office to obtain birth and death dates. Tweet has image of email sent.

Figure 3. #RJ Tweet noting a significant discovery derived from an email exchange with MA Vital Records. (https://twitter.com/FrancescaKwok/status/962460819660398594)

 

Twitter exchange between students regarding a biographical dictionary of American women that might also have women authors in it.

Figure 4. #RJ Tweet exchange where one student points fellow students to a useful source about American authors. (https://twitter.com/gtac334/status/960404528876212224)

The third goal was to displace the expectation that the professor already knew all the answers and it was the students’ job to rediscover the “right” answers. Instead, the professor was presented as a partner in the learning process. This assignment contradicted the “banking” model of education in which “the teacher knows everything and the students know nothing” and “the teacher talks and the students listen—meekly,” (Freire 1970, 23). Using the problem-solving techniques of the inquiry approach allowed Fitzsimmons and Alteri to “introduce students to IL [information literacy] as a way of thinking that focuses on modes of thought involved in seeking appropriate sources” (Mazella and Grob 2011, 468).

At first, the unknowable nature of the assignment and the inability of the professor to accurately predict the successful completion of the ideal outcome—especially given the time constraints of the project, lack of access to physical materials, and the age of the material—made many of the students extremely uncomfortable. Many asked variations of the question, “But really, which of these authors will be easiest to research?” to which Fitzsimmons repeatedly replied “I honestly don’t know.” To many students, this felt like a drastic shift in the way they thought about research. Ben Ventimiglia[8] wrote in his final reflective portfolio essay[9]: “In high school, doing a research project meant googling the topic, reading the Wikipedia article, and maybe copying a few websites into a bibliography. Yet this project, as with everything else in this class, was different. This time, I wasn’t researching something that the teacher already knew about, this time I was researching something that hardly anyone knew about.” Some students even indicated in their blog posts that they initially assumed that Fitzsimmons and Alteri were only pretending ignorance. Kaylee Correll wrote in her blog post: “When first receiving the assignment for ‘The Possibly Impossible Research Project,’ I thought, surely Dr. Fitz has researched these authors and knows information exists on them. It’s just hard to find, so she’s challenging us to develop our research skills. Well, that has clearly proved not to be the case.” This was, in part, the very assumption the assignment was designed to challenge. In undermining the idea that the professor knows everything, this assignment offered students the opportunity to make meaning through engagement with an existing problem (a lack of information about a subset of scientific authors) and empowered students to become what Freire (1970, 27) terms “critical co-investigators in dialogue with the teacher.” In fact, most readily embraced the challenge of rediscovering knowledge and adding that information back into the historical record via the existing “Guiding Science” scholarly project and through public-facing Wikipedia articles.

This project further emphasized the concept of research and discovery as a process. Both Fitzsimmons and the Georgia Tech research librarians who instructed the class on digital research methodologies and available library resources reiterated that the research that students would likely be engaged in as civil engineers, computer-science developers, and architects would reflect this same kind of open-ended problem solving. These students are likely to find themselves in industries where they are asked to create a solution to a problem that has no preconceived “correct” answer. The exposure to this kind of problem, paired with the opportunity to conduct original research in a first-year composition class where the stakes were relatively low, allowed students to embrace the challenge and reorient themselves toward a new way of thinking about research and their own educations.

Tweet by a student who said they never had to do real research before this class.

Figure 5. #RJ tweet exchange where students discuss their previous lack of experience with “real research.” (https://twitter.com/mollyengl1102/status/962736430614306817)

 

Tweet by a student on how the assignment increased their ability to search online.

Figure 6. #RJ Tweet exchange where students reflect on what this research process taught them and how it might be useful in the future. (https://twitter.com/PeterLe01341419/status/962553797032726529)

The fourth goal was intimately tied to the third: in asking first year students to engage in difficult, original research without the promise of results, the assignment actively set up many of these high-performing students to fail in order to teach them to cope with and work around setbacks. Today’s college-aged students, in general, enter college facing pressures and expectations from all sides, leading to a rise in stress, mental health concerns, and reluctance to admit to confusion or mistakes. Geoffrey Cantor (2017) notes that these pressures can come from all sides such as “the ever-increasing emphasis on academic success in our target-driven culture” as well as stresses “about their finances and the substantial loans that they have to shoulder” in order to earn the degrees they have been told are necessary to succeed in a twenty-first century economy. Cantor further notes, “Schools, particularly prestigious private schools, often project a highly competitive ethos, causing some students to drop out of the race, while others enter it with an obsessive determination to succeed” while familial pressures can turn a bad grade on a test into familial disappointment. The pressures can be high whether the student comes from a long line of legacy degree earners or a family with no higher education background.

Given the highly structured, outcome-based educational policies that govern most of today’s students’ K-12 learning experiences, college courses that offer a lack of structure, supervision, or clear expectations often make students intensely uncomfortable. As many college faculty can attest, students who face frustration or difficulty in completing a project may shut down, give up, or blame the instructor for a lack of clarity in directions or expectations. In response, colleges and universities are increasingly trying to find ways to work with the “failure-deprived” or high-achieving students who are “[n]early perfect on paper, with résumés packed full of extracurricular activities” but as a result “they seemed increasingly unable to cope with basic setbacks that come with college life” such as scoring a B on a test or missing a deadline on a paper (Bennett 2017). In using a digital pedagogy framework that embraces play, experimentation, and failure, this course sought to join other beneficial experiences aimed at helping students learn to cope with failure, while also helping demystify and destigmatize failure through collaborative work practices. Others, such as David Gooblar (2018), have noted that sharing failure can help to normalize it as well as provide students with coping strategies, both in and out of the classroom.

Series of images and gifs featuring brick walls to signify the frustration of hitting a dead end in their searches. Other students offer sympathy, solidarity, or encouragement including an animated gif of a man running through a brick wall; another tweet shows an animated man clutching his head and screaming in agony.

Figure 7. #RJ Tweet exchange between six students, commiserating on the frustrations of hitting “brick walls.” Some offer advice, others sympathy, solidarity, or encouragement. (https://twitter.com/WestbrookKarin/status/961790136190160898)

In this vein, the structure of the assignment was built around the risk of failure as a regular part of original research, thereby emphasizing the need to develop good research habits, such as recording and documenting the steps of a research process, and on creative problem solving in the face of setbacks. To do this, Fitzsimmons first made clear that she expected each and every student to fail, or at least to encounter frustrations and setbacks, which the class came to refer to as “brick walls.” These brick walls might include leads that did not pan out, searches that ended in no results, or email queries sent with no responses.

After assigning the project, Fitzsimmons devoted at least five minutes each class period to a research check-in. Students were regularly asked to discuss what they had or had not found, what resources had been useful, and where had they gone astray. Early discussions were hesitant and limited, likely due to the fact that many students had not really started their projects yet. However, after the blog post (and the flurry of research and tweeting that took place the weekend prior), students became far more willing to admit to running into brick walls. Once the students were willing to share to these failures with their peers, a focus on creative problem solving emerged. As students began to share successes, their approaches often inspired others. For example, as some students began to hear back from archivists and librarians, more students were willing to reach out via email to outside experts. As students had reported success with specific digital resources available through our library’s subscription service, other students began to work with the librarians and databases to find archival records, images, census data, publication information or more. In asking students to confront these brick walls and frustrations, and then move on to new approaches, this project mimicked likely scenarios researchers face in both academia and industry.

One of the many threads of conversation the class repeatedly revisited during the project was how to manage frustration and failure from both a productivity standpoint and an emotional one. In some cases, this meant letting students vent their frustrations, while Fitzsimmons, and eventually other students, validated those emotions; phrases like “that does sound very frustrating” or “I hate it when that happens” acknowledged the students’ difficulties while also recognizing how common failure can be. Often times, identification and sharing of similar experiences was enough to help students. In certain cases of prolonged and ongoing “failure,” the class would sometimes suggest other search strategies, brainstorm new approaches, or offer to share physical resources. In a couple of dire cases, reassurance took the form of reiterating the requirements of the assignment and asking the “failing” student to account for what they had already accomplished and how the work they were producing (research notes, works cited, evidence of emails sent) were all that the assignment required for them to earn an A.

Twitter Research Journals (#RJ): Leveraging Social Media In Archival Research

In an attempt to emphasize the concept of research as a process, Fitzsimmons asked students to keep a public-facing research journal using Twitter. Over the course of the month-long project, students were required to send 30 original tweets about their research process that included the course hashtag (#1102kidsci) and the assignment hashtag (#RJ). The students were also required to reply to 10 of their peers’ #RJ tweets during this time. Students were encouraged to send tweets about their ideas, successes, failures, frustrations, questions, search terms, and correspondence in real time, as their research unfolded.

Given its informal nature, many faculty members, including Shannon Draucker (2018), observe that “Twitter offered my students a venue in which to share their more casual, impressionistic responses to our course texts and to communicate their immediate reactions and emerging insights with each other.” Further, the use of multimodal forms of communication (gifs, links, images) in the digital platform allowed students to share a wider variety of information with peers and the general public alike, regardless of Twitter’s 280 character limit. As a result, this form of a research journal recorded the ups and downs of the research process and made the usually invisible labor of research visible, tangible, and humanized.

Twitter exchange between student and Georgia Tech librarian celebrating finding a picture of an author. Exchange contains two images, one of author in an elaborate white bonnet. The other of cat with OMG written on it.

Figure 8. #RJ tweet exchange between a student and GT librarian Karen Viars, celebrating the discovery of a photograph of the student’s assigned author. Note the informality and collegial nature of Karen’s response, keeping largely with the tone set by the students in this collaborative space. (https://twitter.com/MaximENGL1102/status/961375465511546881)

 

Twitter exchange between students, featuring a photo of the original document in which a student found significant new information.

Figure 9. #RJ tweet exchange between Kevin Lau and a fellow student, featuring a photo of the original document in which Kevin found significant new information. (Tweet no longer available.)

The #RJ scaffolding component also allowed for real-time feedback and coaching from both the instructor and the Georgia Tech subject librarian, Karen Viars. In addition to Viars leading a workshop during class time on databases and digital resources, Twitter offered her the opportunity to respond to students and offer her expertise in an informal, collegial way. Given the nature of this project, both Fitzsimmons and Viars found it useful to reinforce a number of the concepts discussed in class, specifically the ideas that research is a process, that dead ends do not necessarily mean failure overall, and that finding no results in specific databases is still valuable information to be recorded and noted. Based on theories that experiential learning can provide more concrete learning outcomes, this real-time feedback in response to the students’ actual work likely made more of an impact than the in-class discussion of failure as an abstract concept. To encourage this tone and level of informality, both Fitzsimmons and Viars regularly responded with the same level of irreverence, humor, and emotion as the students.

Twitter exchange that features an example of informal coaching from the instructor, using an animated gif of a woman making angry, frustrated faces while simulating strangling the air with her hands.

Figure 10. #RJ Tweet exchange that features an example of informal coaching from the instructor, using an animated gif to sympathize with the student’s frustration while encouraging the professional protocols discussed in class lessons. (https://twitter.com/DrFitzPhD/status/963225008154791939)

 

Exchange on Twitter between student and instructor discussing importance of taking breaks during the research process, which features a gif from Big Hero 6 that reads “Low...Battery…”

Figure 11. #RJ Tweet exchange between a student and the instructor that reiterates some of the process oriented lessons about research discussed in class, namely the importance of taking breaks and self-care. (https://twitter.com/db110223/status/958791263066775553)

While one of the goals of the assignment was to teach students how to use social media to develop professional collaborative networks, the supportive and positive community that developed among the students within the #RJ hashtag discussions went far beyond the professor’s expectations. Although the assignment required students to reply to one another 10 times, most students quickly outpaced that requirement and embraced the digital space as a place to share database resources, books, articles, and search techniques. In her reflective portfolio, Annie Lee wrote: “Slowly but surely, Twitter became the place for collaboration. Between following accounts that may have been of help and exchanging ideas with my peers, we were able to create a community that was constructive and rewarding.” Many students admitted to turning to the Twitter hashtag when they felt stuck or frustrated, knowing that their class colleagues would have tips and new ideas for them to try.

Extended collaboration Twitter conversation. The first tweet includes a photo of two leather-bound books; the second image includes a photo of text from one of the books that is relevant to a classmate’s project. The third tweet responds to the image of text, asking the original poster to send more information about an author mentioned in the body of the text. Additional tweets facilitate sharing information; the final tweet from the instructor includes an image of Ron Swanson from Parks and Recreation nodding in approval and reads “I’m really proud of you.”

Figure 12. In this extended #RJ Tweet exchange, Bailey McLain shares photos from a physical book she checked out of the library and offers to check the index for other students’ assigned author; she tags Ben Ventimiglia on a photo of that text that mentions the author he was researching. Another classmate from a different section read the text in the photo and replied to Bailey, asking for more information. Bailey messages him the additional information; the instructor responds at the end of the exchange commending the whole group for their generous collaborative spirit. (https://twitter.com/bmclain1102/status/957983681292980229)

The #RJ assignment also offered students an opportunity to leverage social media as a networking tool. In early class discussions, students were encouraged to seek out scholars and professionals on Twitter who studied relevant fields, like Victorian literature, children’s literature, or science communication. Over the course of the project, students used their #RJ tweets to track their conversations with the Georgia Tech library staff as well as their work in reaching out to other experts via email or social media. Many expressed surprise at how helpful and responsive the librarians were, rather than being bothered by their requests. Jae Hee Lee Lee noted: “In fact, the librarians presented to me resources I have never heard of before where I could find the rarest books (in this case, written by my author) and other sources verifying the reliability of the information I was finding.” Additionally, many students cited the class lesson on writing audience-centered professional emails (and sending thank you notes!) as one of the most beneficial parts of the project. In fact, a number expressed the idea that until this project, asking for help had felt like a last resort or an admission of failure. Perhaps because failure was an expected part of this project or because collaboration was actively built into the project requirements, many students described a new outlook on asking for help. In his final portfolio, Zong-Rui Wee wrote that this project

opened up a new side of research that I had never really explored—it is okay to reach out to authorities on a given subject to ask for help and to be pointed in the right direction. … I had struck a goldmine by reaching out to the museums and archives, and even when they had no physical resources for me, they had pointed me in the right direction. If reaching out to professors or archivists for information was not one of the few suggested options for the project, I would probably never have found as much information than I actually had.

Teaching students how to approach fellow scholars in a collaborative spirit as a valid form of research thus became a major unexpected outcome of the project’s focus on networking and social media.[10]

Student tweet includes a screenshot of an email she received from the magazine Popular Science about her author; the Georgia Tech librarian responds with an animated gif of a man gesturing excitedly that reads “Yes! That is awesome!”

Figure 13. #RJ tweet by Karin Westbrook with a screenshot of an email from an editorial assistant at Popular Science; the magazine was started by the brother of the author Karin was researching. (https://twitter.com/WestbrookKarin/status/960911389656313856)

 

Student tweet to another Twitter user asking for assistance; that same Twitter user replies with a link to a blog post written about the student’s author and an invitation to direct message for more information.

Figure 14. #RJ tweet from Bethel Mamo to a Twitter user who describes herself as “Chronicler of 18th century royal life, both fictional and true!” @MadameGilflurt had previously tweeted about the student’s assigned author and provided her with information as a result of this exchange. (https://twitter.com/bethelkidsci/status/956729597818802176)

Research and Student Outcomes

At the conclusion of the “Possibly Impossible Research Project,” students submitted twenty-eight short biographies for authors in the “Guiding Science” bibliography. A further nine authors now have “leads,” or at least some information gathered by the students that can be used to conduct further research. Out of the fifty authors assigned to the students, only eight have no information. The additional biographical information, and the research processes used by the students, demonstrate a number of the barriers that existed for women writers and the increasing barriers placed on women in the sciences during professionalization. As evidenced in students’ research journals, a number of women had to be tracked through their male relatives, of whom there was far more written evidence.

The project also promoted the books of these authors and their contributions to scientific fields to a wider audience through the creation of new knowledge. In addition to the information contributed to the Baldwin, eleven students completed either new Wikipedia articles on their author, or edited and made significant improvements to their author’s existing Wikipedia pages.[11] Ultimately, the students viewed the Wikipedia article as the pinnacle of achievement in this project, owing to the high standards for “verifiable” sources required by the Wikipedia community and multimodal components, such as images of the author, that they felt made a Wikipedia page complete.[12] In contrast, students who wrote biographies for the Baldwin were permitted to hedge or qualify their research, allowing them to include information that they had not been able to confirm in published sources.

As with any original research, the potential for unexpected discoveries made this project especially exciting. A few lucky students uncovered scandalous content about their authors that directly defied the stereotypical image of a children’s literature author. One student discovered evidence that her author had been sentenced to hard labor after being arrested for stealing; another student found newspaper articles accusing her author of adultery.

One student uncovered a lead that indicated that Mary Trimmer might have been a fake name used by American publishers to capitalize on the success of the British author Sarah Trimmer. As students shared these discoveries via Twitter and during class discussion, their enthusiasm and surprise provided their classmates with both motivation and entertainment.

A student tweet about finding evidence her author stole a purse and was arrested, including an animated gif of a woman stuffing pastries into her purse and two additional tweets about further wrongdoing. The instructor responds with an excited textual reply; the Georgia Tech librarian responds with an animated gif of a man looking surprised that reads “at first I was like...”

Figure 15. #RJ Tweet where Lauren Becknell shares that she found evidence to suggest her author was arrested for theft and for counterfeiting coins. Both the GT librarian and the instructor react with excitement. (https://twitter.com/BecknellKidSci/status/960920003112591362)

 

A student tweet about an author accused of adultery, featuring an animated gif of Mr. T, and J. Alexander from America’s Next Top Model looking scandalized.

Figure 16. #RJ tweet in which a student reacts to finding evidence that the student’s author did not actually exist, but was a scam invented by American publishers to take advantage of another author with the same last name. (https://twitter.com/LitScience1102/status/962012675289960449)

 

A student tweet indicating evidence that the author never existed and was, in fact, a scam; the tweet includes an animated gif of Andy from Parks and Recreation looking shocked and reads “Oh snap!”

Figure 17. #RJ tweet in which a student reacts to newspaper articles indicating the student’s author committed adultery. (https://twitter.com/tweetinfeatin/status/962102325488779264)

Students felt successful regardless of how much information they located; even the eight students who turned in portfolios with no results reported feeling they had learned a significant amount from the project. The students with no results all admitted to feeling some level of disappointment but also reported feeling proud for sticking with the project. While some reported a good deal of content knowledge acquisition, specifically about their author, the topic(s) on which she wrote, and Victorian society, most reported a new appreciation for “real” research, an expanded understanding of the resources available to them through the library, and a growing appreciation for professional networking via digital platforms. Many of the students also noted that they appreciated their work going towards public-facing resources, rather than remaining between them and their professor. Lauren Becknell wrote: “I found this project to be very meaningful due to our own research being able to be seen, edited, and built upon by other literature researchers.”

Finally, the students had the opportunity to learn about the challenges, pitfalls, joys, and productive processes associated with original research in a relatively safe, low-stakes environment. In a study that examined the emotional responses of information seeking library patrons, Carol C. Kuhlthau (1991, 367) notes that the exploration phase of research is the one most likely to challenge previously-held conceptions about the information available and is often the phase where “users may find the situation quite discouraging and threatening, causing a sense of personal inadequacy as well as frustration … some may be inclined to abandon the search altogether at this stage.” By exposing students intentionally to this stage of research in an assignment predominantly focused on process and documentation as the graded requirement of the assignment, the students were able to refocus on methods rather than the final product. Helen Smith’s reflective portfolio included this observation: “For each of the assignments in this class, the process of getting to the final product was the key change in my mindset. It is often very easy to want to jump headfirst into a project. … Without realizing it, you begin skipping crucial steps in the brainstorming, outlining, creating, drafting, and revising stages.” The increased focus on process helped the students come to terms with the risks of original research, namely, the potential for failure. Peter Lee wrote “This project taught me that often in research, there will be dead ends and that its sometimes perfectly fine to not find anything substantial.” In classroom reflective discussions, many of the students reported that they felt far more confident to approach their research-driven major courses now that they had a more solid grounding on how to do “real” research.

The positive impacts of this project were not reserved merely for the students. First, the larger fields of English, children’s literature, the history of education, and the history of science will all benefit from the original research produced in bringing the lives of these (often incredible) women to light. Second, Alteri reported learning new and creative approaches to biographical research from the students (e.g. what sources they used, how they tracked down information). She noted, “they often thought of using sources that I, a more traditional researcher, would not have used, especially Ancestry.com and other genealogy sites that many students used to locate their authors through marriage records, census data, and obituaries. Also, I think a meaningful impact has been bringing the work and the lives of the women to light!” Third, Fitzsimmons noted that a lot of learning can come from admitting “I don’t know” as a professor. While this course was built on topics the professor knew a lot about, it also left space for the unknown in order to ignite student curiosity. Fitzsimmons noted, “I was genuinely thrilled by each new discovery but I was also prepared to roll up my sleeves and help students puzzle through a frustrating lack of findings during office hours or workshops.” This shared sense of discovery helped many students with no interest in pursuing the humanities beyond their required courses find value and importance in this particular project.

Student put together a Twitter thread on how to approach original research for this class as a self-directed reflective exercise—the multimodal animated gifs helped make the thread entertaining as well as informative. Animated gifs show Kermit the Frog typing furiously on a typewriter, a cat typing furiously on a laptop, Bert from Sesame Street looking up from a book as the camera zooms in on his surprised face, Belle from Beauty and the Beast swinging down a shelf of books on a ladder, a young woman applauding and nodding, Britney Spears giving a thumbs up and a scene from WWF wrestling.

Figure 18. Lauren Becknell put together a Twitter thread on how to approach original research for this class as a self-directed reflective exercise—the multimodal animated gifs helped make the thread entertaining as well as informative. (https://twitter.com/BecknellKidSci/status/963115838139191296)

Future Possibilities

In future iterations of this project, or for faculty members looking to create their own assignment based on this one, a few improvements should be made. First, students were very concerned about submitting their final research portfolios correctly in terms of format and document set up. A future version of the assignment sheet would clarify what the archive of images would look like, and additional time might be spent on how to create and curate a “Twitter moment” in order to create an archive of the students’ #RJ tweets and responses that would be easier to share. In addition, Alteri will be more active on Twitter, sharing her own frustrations doing research as well as interesting contextual information. Third, faculty members planning to use Twitter as an ongoing feedback tool might consider setting up digital office hours in which they check tweets on the course hashtag and respond. This would provide faculty members with a quantifiable amount of time spent providing feedback, as well as giving students a sense of fairness in terms of when they might look for responses. Given the mobility and accessibility of Twitter, these “office hours” could be a 15-20 minute window as a part of class prep.

There are also non-digital ways to encourage this level of idea exchange, both for faculty with privacy concerns, students without readily accessible computers, or those with a critical digital pedagogy that objects to supporting a large-scale commercial platform like Twitter. Keeping a paper and pen research journal and sharing the contents with a research team, or a faculty-guided small group, could certainly achieve similar levels of demystification and collegial collaboration. Finally, while this course contributed a great amount of information on these female authors, biographies from the “Guiding Science” bibliography still remains incomplete. In a future version of this class, students will be asked to research some of the authors for whom previous students were unable to find information. Therefore, in line with asking students to consider themselves as members of an academic community and using “unsuccessful” research to help build future research discoveries, the professor plans to share, with student permission, some of the no-result portfolios with the new student researchers. Hopefully, these portfolios will serve as good examples of how to record and preserve research as well as demonstrate actively that failure can still lend itself to progress.

Notes

[1] Full-text of titles can be found at http://ufdc.ufl.edu.
[2] Women authors often remained anonymous due to “the detrimental impact that their sex might have upon the earning power of their writing; the fact that it could undermine a proper evaluation of literary merit, either through premature rejection or ridicule, or through over-indulgence and condescension; and because the stigma of ‘unfeminine’ behavior remained attached to authorship throughout the period,” (Turner 2012, 95).
[3] See Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1970), chapter 2.
[4] Researchers often liken archival research to the investigative process. Alexis E. Ramsey’s Working in the Archives: Practical Research Methods for Rhetoric and Composition and Helen M. Buss and Marlene Kadar’s Working in Women’s Archives: Researching Women’s Private Literature and Archival Documents.
[5] This is a reference to Miss Frizzle’s catchphrase in The Magic School-Bus picture book series, which also appeared on the course syllabus: “Take chances, get messy, make mistakes!”
[6] See C. V. Burek and B. Higgs
[7] Some of the students included connections they had made via other platforms like Twitter or official query sites for institutions like museums in this “archived correspondence” section. See Figure 15 for an example.
[8] Throughout this essay, all student quotes are included with permission from the students; students are identified by name or included anonymously based on their expressed preferences.
[9] All WCP courses include a multimodal reflective portfolio in lieu of a final exam: students are asked to write substantial reflective essay to “help your readers understand and make sense of the work you did this semester and allow them to understand the ways you developed as a communicator.”
[10] On a personal note, given the ongoing struggles on college campuses to address the unique mental health needs of highly pressured students and resulting student suicide rates, the unintended outcome of teaching students it is ok to ask for help is the one Fitzsimmons is the most proud of.
[11] Of the eight proposed new pages, two were rejected by other Wikipedia users/editors as failing to provide “clear evidence of why the subject is notable and worthy of inclusion in an encyclopedia.” Wikipedia itself admits that the “notability” requirement is one that reinforces the online resource’s systemic bias. Take, for example, the recent case of Nobel prize winner Donna Strickland, whose first Wikipedia page was rejected because she did not meet the notability requirement.
[12] Wikipedia requires published secondary sources or official documents (i.e. government documents, public records) as support for an article; given the relative obscurity and age of the authors, these verifiable materials were the most difficult for students to locate and then cite digitally.

Bibliography

Alvarez, Pablo. 2006. “Improving Rare Books into the Undergraduate Curriculum.” RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts, and Cultural Heritage 7, no. 2 (Fall): 94–103. EBSCO Open Access Journals.

Bahde, Anne. 2011. “Taking the Show on the Road: Special Collections Instruction in the Campus Classroom.” RBM: A Journal of Rare Books, Manuscripts, and Cultural Heritage 12, no. 2 (Fall): 75–88. EBSCO Open Access Journals.

Bennett, Jessica. 2017. “On Campus, Failure is On the Syllabus.” The New York Times, June 24, 2017.
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/24/fashion/fear-of-failure.html.

Burek, C. V. and B. Higgs. 2007. The Role of Women in the History and Development of Geology: An Introduction. Geological Society, London, Special Publications, 281, 1-8, https://doi.org/10.1144/SP281.1

Buss, Helen M. and Marlene Kadar. 2001. Working in Women’s Archives: Researching Women’s Private Literature and Archival Documents. Waterloo, Canada: Wilfrid Laurier University Press.

Cantor, Geoffrey. 2017. “Students’ Debilitating Fear of Failure Must Be Addressed.” The Times Higher Education Supplement 2295, March 2, 2017. London: THE. LexisNexis Academic.

Carroll, Lewis. 1871. Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. New York: D. Appleton & Company.

Draucker, Shannon. 2018. “A Claim in 140 Characters: Live Tweeting in the Composition Classroom.” The Journal of Interactive Technology & Pedagogy, May 23, 2018.
https://jitp.commons.gc.cuny.edu/a-claim-in-140-characters-live-tweeting-in-the-composition-classroom/

Freire, Paulo. 1970. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Translated by Myra Bergman Ramos. New York: Herder and Herder.

Gooblar, David. 2018. “The Benefits of Doing it Wrong.” The Chronicle of Higher Education, January 23, 2018.
https://www.chronicle.com/article/The-Benefits-of-Doing-It-Wrong/242273

Kuhlthau, Carol. 1991. “Information Seeking from the User’s Perspective.” Journal of the American Society for Information Science 42, no. 5 (June): 361–71. Wiley Online Library.

Mazella, David and Julie Grob. 2011. “Collaborations between Faculty and Special Collections Librarians in Inquiry-Driven Classes.” portal: Libraries and the Academy 11, no. 1 (January): 468–69.

Morris, Sean Michael and Jesse Stommel. 2018. An Urgency of Teachers: The Work of Critical Digital Pedagogy. Hybrid Pedagogy, Inc.
https://urgencyofteachers.com/

Ramsey, Alexis E., Wendy B. Sharer, Barbara L’Eplattenier, and Lisa S. Mastrangelo. 2009. Working in the Archives: Practical Research Methods for Rhetoric and Composition. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press.

Shteir, Ann. 1997. “Elegant Recreations? Configuring Science Writing for Women.” In Victorian Science in Context, edited by Bernard Lightman, 236–54. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Sweeney, Richard. 2006. “Snake Person Behaviors and Demographics.” Teaching Tips. Last modified December 22, 2006. http://unbtls.ca/teachingtips/pdfs/sew/Snake Person-Behaviors.pdf

Turner, Cheryl. 2012. Living By the Pen: Women Writers in the Eighteenth Century. Hoboken: Taylor and Francis.

About the Authors

Suzan Alteri is an Associate University Librarian and Curator of the Baldwin Library of Historical Children’s Literature at the University of Florida. She has published in Digital Defoe and Education Libraries. Her current project, “Guiding Science: Publications by Women during the Romantic and Victorian Ages,” explores women-authored science books for children.

Rebekah Fitzsimmons is the Assistant Director of the Writing and Communication Program in the School of Literature, Media, and Communication at the Georgia Institute of Technology and a Marion L. Brittain Postdoctoral Fellow. She earned her PhD at the University of Florida in children’s and young adult literature and regularly publishes on bestseller lists, the cultural reception of children’s and young adult literature, and issues of prestige in children’s publishing. Her monograph in progress argues that the pioneering women in children’s literature fields, like librarianship, teaching, and publishing, appropriated the markers and rhetorical strategies of professionalization used in traditionally masculine fields to seize prestige and influence for themselves at the turn of the 20th century.

3

A Claim in 140 Characters: Live-Tweeting in the Composition Classroom

Shannon Draucker, Boston University

By live-tweeting course texts and class presentations, first-year composition students develop fundamental writing skills including thesis formation, evidence incorporation, and peer review.

 

Student 1: “Joanne seems like quite the outcast…how did a lawyer end up in Bohemia?”

Student 2: “And that too, a female lawyer! But also, weren’t bohemians actually quite

wealthy?”

Student 3: “interesting how she’s an outcast of these outcasts.”

Student 4: “literally same, like I think her only ‘edgy’ characteristic is that she’s not

straight.”

At first, the above conversation might seem rather unremarkable — typical of a discussion in a freshman composition class. Yet, this exchange did not take place in class or even in person, but rather on Twitter. In my Fall 2016 first-year writing seminar at Boston University, titled “La vie Bohème: Art and Counterculture from the Nineteenth Century to the Present,” I instructed my students to “live-tweet” as they watched Christopher Columbus’s 2005 film version of Rent, one of our course texts. After explaining that “live-tweeting” is a popular practice among audience members and critics at film festivals, orchestra concerts, and even academic conferences, I urged my students to compose five to seven tweets in response to the film, using the hashtag “#WR100F8,” our course number (Fig. 1). While I initially assigned the live-tweeting exercise as a fun, avant-garde diversion from our regular work, live-tweeting actually helped my students achieve some of the central compositional goals of the course: crafting arguments, substantiating their claims with evidence, and responding to the writing of others.

Figure 1: The above image depicts a screenshot of my introductory tweet to my students, which reads “Hello, BU WR 100 students (section F8!) Tweet using the hashtag #WR100F8.” It shows my name (Shannon B. Draucker), the Twitter handle (@profdrauck) for the account I created for the assignment, and a photo of me.

Figure 1: The above image depicts a screenshot of my introductory tweet to my students, which reads “Hello, BU WR 100 students (section F8!) Tweet using the hashtag #WR100F8.” It shows my name (Shannon B. Draucker), the Twitter handle (@profdrauck) for the account I created for the assignment, and a photo of me.

Teaching with Twitter: Current Conversations

Though oriented thematically around questions of alternative art culture and bohemian life, my course was at base a freshman composition class.[1] As described in the Writing Program’s syllabus template, students in WR 100 should achieve several aims: “craft substantive, motivated, balanced academic arguments; write clear, correct, coherent prose; read with understanding and engagement; plan, draft, and revise efficiently and effectively; evaluate and improve… reading and writing processes; respond productively to the writing of others; express yourself verbally and converse thoughtfully about complex ideas” (“WR 100 Syllabus Template” 2014). Live-tweeting enriched my students’ development as writers and helped them work towards several of these aims.

Pedagogy scholars have outlined uses of Twitter in K-12, undergraduate, and graduate classroom settings. Adeline Koh and Mark Sample argue that live-tweeting can encourage “backchannel conversations” between students who wish to continue their class conversations or ask each other questions that they might be hesitant to pose in person (Koh 2014; Sample 2010). Though Stephen J. Jacquemin and others worry that Twitter might inhibit “active discussion and feedback,” Brian Croxall suggests that Twitter offers shyer students a less intimidating venue in which to contribute (Jacquemin et al. 2014, 22-27; Croxall 2010). Jevon D. Hunter and Heidie Jean Caraway propose that Twitter provides an easily accessible space for students to take notes, reflect on what they are reading, and track their immediate responses to a text (Hunter and Caraway 2014, 76-82). Sarah Townsend examines how literature students can use Twitter to better understand the formal features of experimental novels like James Joyce’s Ulysses (Townsend 2017). Tracy Hawkins identifies Twitter as a tool for feminist pedagogy, as it encourages students to participate in activist discourses and consciousness-raising efforts that occur online, though she also emphasizes that instructors must work to “mentor their students about how to avoid being victims or perpetrators of online injustices” (Hawkins 2015, 167). Others have identified how Twitter can teach students to be social media-savvy and to develop transferable skills (Greenhow and Gleason 2012, 464-478; Nicholson and Galguera 2013, 7).

I found that Twitter offered my students a venue in which to share their more casual, impressionistic responses to our course texts and to communicate their immediate reactions and emerging insights with each other. I, in turn, was able to build on their “backchannel” conversations in order to propel our discussion the following day in class. Moreover, though most of my students were already technologically savvy, live-tweeting gave them a chance to practice their social media skills and use Twitter more creatively by incorporating GIFs and other images, “liking” each other’s posts, and using hashtags (Fig. 2). Live-tweeting also allowed my students to share their personalities and senses of humor, as well as communicate their enthusiasm for the material (Fig. 3). This space to get to know each other and engage thoughtfully with each other’s ideas was particularly valuable for a small, seminar-style class of freshmen just entering university life.

Figure 2: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “OMG they just kissed!! #tears #wr100f8.” It includes a GIF of two cats kissing.

Figure 2: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “OMG they just kissed!! #tears #wr100f8.” It includes a GIF of two cats kissing.

Figure 3: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads “Full on belting Seasons of Love right now #WR100F8 I love musicalsss.” The image also shows that this tweet has received “4 Likes.” It also includes another student’s reply, which reads, “I think it is an interesting song choice esp. because the film cycles thru all the seasons of the year and comes full circle!” In this and all subsequent images, I have redacted the students’ names, Twitter handles, and photos in order to protect their privacy.

Figure 3: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads “Full on belting Seasons of Love right now #WR100F8 I love musicalsss.” The image also shows that this tweet has received “4 Likes.” It also includes another student’s reply, which reads, “I think it is an interesting song choice esp. because the film cycles thru all the seasons of the year and comes full circle!” In this and all subsequent images, I have redacted the students’ names, Twitter handles, and photos in order to protect their privacy.

Live-Tweeting in #WR100F8

Live-tweeting requires that students create their own accounts on Twitter. As I was committed to making our Twitter feed a safe space for the students, I held a class discussion before the first Twitter assignment to address appropriate Internet conduct. I insisted that my students treat each other with the same respect on Twitter that they did in class. I also allowed my students to create new Twitter accounts (other than their personal ones) and to use pseudonyms that only their peers and I would know. They could also make their accounts “protected,” subject to their approval of individual “followers” (their classmates and myself). About half of my students created new Twitter accounts for the assignment, though this includes students who did not previously have a Twitter account, and two students “protected” their tweets. No one chose to create a pseudonym.[2] I also tweeted under an account I created for the purpose (@profdrauck), which I used to generate my own live-tweets in response to the course texts and respond to students’ tweets.

I directed my students to live-tweet on three occasions. I first instructed them to live-tweet as they viewed a recorded production of Giacomo Puccini’s 1895 opera La Bohème. Though I initially introduced the assignment in class, I also sent instructions to my students via email:

As you watch the video, generate 5-6 live-tweets with observations, quotations, questions, and points of interest from the film.

Remember to use the hashtag #WR100F8 and #LaBoheme if you’d like, and follow me at @profdrauck. Let me know if you have any questions. The conversations you have on this platform will spark our conversation on Monday.

I directed students to live-tweet for a second time several weeks later, when they were watching Columbus’s Rent. After realizing that their La Bohème tweets were insightful, but not particularly interactive, I urged students to engage with each other’s tweets more deliberately:

Please respond to at least two of your classmates’ tweets (by hitting “reply” on Twitter). This will allow you to get the discussion started before class even begins.

Our third Twitter exercise was optional. I invited students to live-tweet each other’s in-class presentations about their third (and final) paper for the course. They could quote or paraphrase their peers’ statements, pose questions, or offer suggestions that the presenter could read later.

All in all, my 18 students and I generated almost 500 tweets.

Thesis Formation

Twitter’s character limit enabled my students to practice making clear, concise claims. Though Twitter now permits tweets of 280 characters, at the time of my course (Fall 2016), tweets were capped at 140 characters (Larson 2017). As Mark Sample and Peter DePietro have written, this limit urges students to condense and focus their ideas (Sample 2010; DePietro 2013, 73, 76).

During the week in which they watched and live-tweeted La Bohème, my students were also brainstorming for their first paper. In WR 100, the first paper focuses on thesis statements and central claims.[3] For this assignment, I asked the students to argue whether a particular course text (either George Du Maurier’s 1894 novel Trilby or La Bohème) was truly “bohemian.” They needed to agree or disagree (or, ideally, find some kind of middle ground) with literary critic Jonathan Freedman’s claim that bohemia is “thoroughly benign: while poverty, prostitution, and drunkenness are hinted at…characters remain untainted by its worst aspects” (Freedman 2000, 98-9).

Live-tweeting, as it turned out, was not entirely auxiliary to my students’ work on their first paper, as it enabled them to practice making concise, authoritative arguments. One student, for example, tweeted about his perception of the hypocrisies and contradictions of bohemia (Fig. 4).

Figure 4: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “Going out and eating lobster while not being able to pay rent. Classic ‘bohemian.’ #WR100F8 #LaBoheme.”

Figure 4: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “Going out and eating lobster while not being able to pay rent. Classic ‘bohemian.’ #WR100F8 #LaBoheme.”

This student’s tweet, though casual and humorously snarky, informed the argument of his first paper. In this student’s early drafts, the thesis was vague, wordy, and unclear, so I pointed him back to this tweet as an example of a sharp statement that captured his attitudes about a course text. In a one-on-one meeting, I asked the student to explain what he meant by his Twitter comment “Classic ‘bohemian.’” He emphasized that the bohemians are often hypocritical in that they pretend not to have money but at the same time spend it with abandon. I pointed out that his tweet represented a much clearer and more direct argument than his original paper. In the student’s final draft, he agreed with Freedman’s notion of “bohemian gaiety” but also furthered the conversation by discussing the class dynamics at work in bohemian literature – an idea sparked by the live-tweeting exercise.

Several students began to develop ideas for their final papers while live-tweeting Rent. Throughout the semester, several students had become frustrated with the whiteness of Bohemia, as evidenced by the racially homogenous groups of characters in La Bohème, Trilby, and even Lena Dunham’s TV series Girls. My students were thus eager to discover– and discuss– the racial and ethnic diversity in Columbus’s Rent. Their tweets (Figs. 5 and 6) can be read as mini-thesis statements that make arguments about Rent and compare it to our other course texts.

Figure 5: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “The characters are really diverse, which is really abnormal from what we have seen so far in bohemia! Also, more than 1 female. #WR100F8.”

Figure 5: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “The characters are really diverse, which is really abnormal from what we have seen so far in bohemia! Also, more than 1 female. #WR100F8.”

Figure 6: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “It’s interesting to see the diversity in Bohemia, which was not shown in moulin rouge or la Boheme. #WR100F8.”

Figure 6: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “It’s interesting to see the diversity in Bohemia, which was not shown in moulin rouge or la Boheme. #WR100F8.”

In both cases, these tweets later transformed into formal thesis statements. One student’s final claim read, “[Larson] shows a diverse array of characters, along with the struggles that these characters face, and the close-knit communities that help them thrive…By portraying diverse characters and their struggles, close-knit communities, and artistic lifestyles, Larson makes Rent a bohemian text.”

While first-year writing students often struggle to eliminate “wordiness,” develop their own voices, and articulate forceful claims, in these moments, Twitter enabled my students to articulate short, incisive, and commanding arguments about the material. By mandating that tweets be less than 140 characters, Twitter encouraged my students to remove unnecessary jargon, hone in on their main ideas, and share their points of view.

Evidence Incorporation

As composition instructors have long discussed, it is often difficult to teach first-year writing students how to find and incorporate evidence.[4] In my experience, students often struggle to come up with concrete examples or are hesitant to quote or incorporate specific words, lines, or images from a text. They face an even greater challenge weaving these examples into an unfolding thesis. However, I found that the live-tweeting exercise helped my students practice these skills. The immediacy of live-tweeting compelled my students to pay close attention to specific moments as they occurred. Moreover, the technology that allowed them to pause videos, screenshot images, and quote individual lines helped them to engage more closely and carefully with specific moments and ponder how they served as evidence of larger points or ideas.

One student, for instance, live-tweeted about a specific image in Larson’s Rent (Fig. 7). In order to do so, the student had to pause the video, screenshot the image, and attach it to the tweet. This act allowed the student to examine and interpret the shot. In the text of the tweet, the student narratively connects the image to a larger point about Rent’s depiction of the discrimination faced by the LGBTQ characters in the film. Here, live-tweeting helped the student engage with evidence in a way she might not have were she passively viewing the film for homework.

Figure 7: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads “There is rampant hatred and opposition to the group. Words like ‘Nasty’ and ‘Bomb’ deface this beacon of hope. #WR100F8.” The tweet also includes an image from the film Rent, of a blue sign outside the Ryder Community Center, which reads “Helping to build a stronger community,” but is defaced with graffiti.

Figure 7: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads “There is rampant hatred and opposition to the group. Words like ‘Nasty’ and ‘Bomb’ deface this beacon of hope. #WR100F8.” The tweet also includes an image from the film Rent, of a blue sign outside the Ryder Community Center, which reads “Helping to build a stronger community,” but is defaced with graffiti.

Similarly, in Figure 8, a student quotes a line from Rent and analyzes it in the context of broader discussions about the class dynamics in bohemian works. The student who replies also raises another question in response to the quotation, building a dialogue around a piece of evidence.

Figure 8: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “Zoom in on my empty wallet”. Pretty typical of the bohemians we’ve seen, although many live beyond their means #WR100F8.” The image also pictures another student’s response to this tweet, which reads, “Totally agree, plus that also questions whether bohemia is an outcast’s fate or a chosen experience.”

Figure 8: This image depicts a screenshot of a student’s tweet, which reads, “Zoom in on my empty wallet”. Pretty typical of the bohemians we’ve seen, although many live beyond their means #WR100F8.” The image also pictures another student’s response to this tweet, which reads, “Totally agree, plus that also questions whether bohemia is an outcast’s fate or a chosen experience.”

In these instances, live-tweeting allowed my students to practice evidence incorporation and interpretation and to work together to make meaning out of textual moments.

Peer Review

Live-tweeting also propelled my students to practice what most instructors view as a crucial part of the writing process: peer review, or what BU’s Writing Program refers to as “respond[ing] productively to the writing of others” (“WR 100 Syllabus Template,” 2014). Kate Turabian insists that first-year writers must learn not only to make their own arguments but also to “[a]cknowledge and respond to readers’ points of view” (Turabian 2010, 68).

By responding to each other’s live-tweets about course texts, my students could bounce ideas off each other. Though they did so in a casual, conversational manner, they were nonetheless entering the kinds of critical conversations Turabian describes (Turabian 2010, 63-4).[5] Not only did my students offer each other implicit affirmation in the form of “likes” and “retweets” but they also replied directly to each other’s comments, challenging their classmates and urging them to think through how their claims relate to broader questions about bohemianism and art culture. In Figure 9, for instance, one student comments on the scene in Rent in which Mark and Roger burn screenplays to stay warm and articulates that it seems “counterproductive” to bohemians’ alleged venerations of art:

Figure 9: This image depicts a student’s tweet, which reads, “The destruction of screenplays to send a message seems almost counterproductive #WR100F8.” The image shows that the tweet received “1 Like.” The image also includes two students’ responses. The first reads, “this is so interesting because art is all the bohemians have so they also use it in destructive ways…” The second reads, “I feel that this highlights the almost-inherent hypocrisy of bohemianism. It’s also another La Boheme allusion.”

Figure 9: This image depicts a student’s tweet, which reads, “The destruction of screenplays to send a message seems almost counterproductive #WR100F8.” The image shows that the tweet received “1 Like.” The image also includes two students’ responses. The first reads, “this is so interesting because art is all the bohemians have so they also use it in destructive ways…” The second reads, “I feel that this highlights the almost-inherent hypocrisy of bohemianism. It’s also another La Boheme allusion.”

The respondents not only affirm their peers’ point (“this is so interesting”) but also build shared insights about the scene’s portrayal of the destructiveness and hypocrisy of bohemia. In doing so, they practice the kinds of acknowledgment and response Turabian describes.

Live-tweeting also served as a tool for peer review when students live-tweeted each other’s final presentations. Some students gave their peers positive reinforcement (Fig. 10), sometimes in the form of humorous GIFs (Fig. 11).

Figure 10: This image depicts a student’s tweet, which reads, “#WR100F8 I think that [STUDENT NAME REDACTED] has a great lens for arguing against Rent’s bohemianism. This financial outlook should be a great paper.” The image also reveals that this tweet has received “2 Retweets” and “2 Likes.”

Figure 10: This image depicts a student’s tweet, which reads, “#WR100F8 I think that [STUDENT NAME REDACTED] has a great lens for arguing against Rent’s bohemianism. This financial outlook should be a great paper.” The image also reveals that this tweet has received “2 Retweets” and “2 Likes.”

Figure 11: This image depicts a student’s tweet to another student, which reads, “@[STUDENT NAME REDACTED] argues that counterculture is sold to a mainstream audience, which is not an accurate portrayal of Bohemia #wr100f8.” The tweet is accompanied by a GIF, which depicts a white man standing at a podium with a gavel. The GIF includes the text “SOLD!”

Figure 11: This image depicts a student’s tweet to another student, which reads, “@[STUDENT NAME REDACTED] argues that counterculture is sold to a mainstream audience, which is not an accurate portrayal of Bohemia #wr100f8.” The tweet is accompanied by a GIF, which depicts a white man standing at a podium with a gavel. The GIF includes the text “SOLD!”

Other students used Twitter to engage more critically with their classmates’ work. In Figure 12, for instance, a student asks her peer to clarify her source material.

Figure 12: This image depicts a student’s tweet to another student, which reads, “@[STUDENT NAME REDACTED] are you focusing only on the pilot episode of girls or are you also analyzing later episodes in your paper? #WR100f8.” The image shows that this tweet has received “1 Like.”

Figure 12: This image depicts a student’s tweet to another student, which reads, “@[STUDENT NAME REDACTED] are you focusing only on the pilot episode of girls or are you also analyzing later episodes in your paper? #WR100f8.” The image shows that this tweet has received “1 Like.”

In Figure 13, a student more insistently challenges her classmate’s thesis, providing a counterexample in the form of a screenshot. In doing so, this student offers valuable feedback to her classmate, helping her to see that her example is not fully developed or that she might need to rethink her evidence or claim.

Figure 13: This image depicts a student’s tweet to another student, which reads, “@[STUDENT NAME READCTED] What do you mean by Mark is forced into the corporate world style? He never dresses in a suit in those scenes #wr100f8.” The tweet includes an image from the film Rent, which depicts the character Mark riding his bike down a New York City street. He has red hair and glasses and is wearing a tan jacket and carrying a messenger bag. The image includes the text, “How do you document real life when real life’s getting more like fiction each day?”

Figure 13: This image depicts a student’s tweet to another student, which reads, “@[STUDENT NAME READCTED] What do you mean by Mark is forced into the corporate world style? He never dresses in a suit in those scenes #wr100f8.” The tweet includes an image from the film Rent, which depicts the character Mark riding his bike down a New York City street. He has red hair and glasses and is wearing a tan jacket and carrying a messenger bag. The image includes the text, “How do you document real life when real life’s getting more like fiction each day?”

At the end of the presentation session, I projected the students’ live tweets on the board and asked them to ponder the similarities between live-tweeting and other peer workshopping exercises. My students commented that tweeting offered a fast-paced, “discussion-like” way to respond to each other’s ideas– a refreshing departure from reading each other’s essays at home and filling out feedback worksheets.

Live-tweeting encouraged my students to help each other with their work and to engage in the scholarly practices of listening and responding to each other’s arguments. My students practiced in real time the critical conversations they needed to develop in their formal papers.

Conclusion

Live-tweeting represented a surprisingly valuable tool that helped students practice, in a more informal setting, some of the skills they would develop further in their longer papers: making strong claims, locating and analyzing textual evidence, and engaging in critical conversations with other scholars. While instructors often view Twitter and other social media platforms as frivolous distractions or frustrating inhibitions to classroom learning, the experience of using Twitter in WR 100 reminded me that, at least in the composition classroom, we can look to such technologies for strategies and approaches that resonate, rather than clash, with our course aims. In some cases, I realized, perhaps all it takes to spark a claim, ponder a piece of evidence, or converse with a peer is 140 characters.

Notes

[1] For more information on the Boston University College of Arts and Sciences Writing Program, please see <http://www.bu.edu/writingprogram>.

[2] Townsend directed students to create separate Twitter accounts for her course, though she did allow them to share their projects publicly. I offered students the choice of whether to use their own accounts or to create new ones because several students expressed an interest in sharing their live-tweets with friends and family who already “followed” their accounts.

[3] The first paper asks students to create what Kate Turabian in Student’s Guide to Writing College Papers (the text used in the BU Writing Program) calls a “main claim” or the “core” of an argument (Turabian 2010, 65-6).

[4] See, for example, James Slevin, “Letter to Maggie” (Slevin 1999, 3).

[5] In fact, Turabian urges students to “[b]ounce ideas off friends rather than sources” and use their classmates to practice acknowledgement and response strategies (Turabian 2010, 38-9).

Bibliography

Boston University College of Arts and Sciences Writing Program. 2014. “WR 100 Syllabus Template, Version 2014-07-1.” Course Syllabus. Boston University, Boston, MA, <www.bu.edu/wpnet/files/2014/07/Fall-2014-WR-100-Syllabus-Template.doc>

 

Croxall, Brian. 2010. “Reflections on Teaching with Social Media.” The Chronicle of Higher Education: Profhacker. June 7, 2010.

<https://www.chronicle.com/blogs/profhacker/reflections-on-teaching-with-social-media/24556>.

 

DePietro, Peter. 2013. “Microblogging in the Classroom.” Counterpoints 435, no. 1: 73-83.

 

Freedman, Jonathan. 2000. The Temple of Culture: Assimilation and Anti-Semitism in Literary Anglo-America. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

 

Greenhow, Christine and Benjamin Gleason. 2012. “Twitteracy: Tweeting as a New Literacy Practice.” The Educational Forum 76, no. 4 (October): 464-478.

 

Hawkins, Tracy L. 2015. “‘Can You Tweet That?’ Twitter in the Classroom.” Feminist Teacher 25, no. 2-3: 153-168.

 

Hunco, R., G. Heiberger, and E. Loken. 2011. “The Effect of Twitter on College Student Engagement and Grades.” Journal of Computer Assisted Learning 27, no. 2 (April): 119-132.

 

Hunter, Jevon D. and Heidie Jean Caraway. 2014. “Urban Youth Use Twitter to Transform Learning and Engagement.” The English Journal 103, no. 4 (March): 76-82.

 

Jacquemin, Stephen J, Lisa K. Smelser, and Melody J. Bernot. 2014. “Twitter in the Higher Education Classroom: A Student and Faculty Assessment of Use and Perception.” Journal of College Science Teaching 43:6 (July/August): 22-27.

 

Koh, Adeline. 2014. “Livetweeting Classes: Some Suggested Guidelines.” The Chronicle of Higher Education: Profhacker. January 28, 2014. <https://www.chronicle.com/blogs/profhacker/livetweeting-classes-some-suggested-guidelines/54963>

 

Larson, Selena. 2017. “Welcome to a world with 280-character tweets.” CNN Tech. November 7, <http://money.cnn.com/2017/11/07/technology/twitter-280-character-limit/index.html>.

 

Nicholson, Julie and Tomás Galguera. “Integrating New Literacies in Higher Education: A Self-Study of the Use of Twitter in an Education Course.” Teacher Education Quarterly 40, no. 3 (Summer 2013): 7-26.

 

Sample, Mark. 2010. “A Framework for Teaching with Twitter.” The Chronicle of Higher Education: Profhacker. August 16, 2010. <https://www.chronicle.com/blogs/profhacker/a-framework-for-teaching-with-twitter/26223>.

 

Slevin, James. 1999. “Letter to Maggie.” Sweetland: Gayle Morris Sweetland Writing Center 23 (March): 1-4.

 

Townsend, Sarah L. 2017. “Ulysses Here and Now: Using Twitter to Teach Experimental Literature.” Journal of Interactive Technology and Pedagogy. February 1, 2017. <https://jitp.commons.gc.cuny.edu/ulysses-here-and-now-using-twitter-to-teach-experimental-literature/#_ednref4>

 

Turabian, Kate L. 2010. Student’s Guide to Writing College Papers. 4th ed. Eds. Gregory Colomb and Joseph Williams. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

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A Bechdel Test for #MLA16: Gendered Acts of Care on Academic Twitter

Shawna Ross, Texas A&M University

Abstract

This essay tracks gendered behaviors on academic Twitter during the Modern Language Association conference in January 2016. Drawing on Lauren Klein’s theory of carework and the Bechdel test for gender equality in filmmaking, I compare the way male and female social media users respond to presentations in the Twitter feed associated with three particular panels. Using Storifies from these panels, I classify tweets according to the gender identities of those mentioned in the tweet and those creating the tweets, as well as by the rhetorical function of each tweet. The resulting spreadsheet, figures, and tables are an example of “small data” at work as I hypothesize significant trends in the way women perform carework during conferences through their social media usage.

Editors’ Note

Shawna Ross has created a robust series of html pages to present her analysis of Twitter replies at the 2016 Modern Language Association Conference. Her presentation provides an example of the kind of scholarship we hope to see more of at JITP, i.e. scholarship that leverages the affordances of technology to present its theses, analyses and evidences more effectively. After exploring options, we found the iframe to be the best way to render Ross’s work on our site. We recognize that an iframe may not render the contents of the paper correctly on all devices and apologize for any inconvenience.

About the Author

Shawna Ross is an Assistant Professor of modern British literature and the digital humanities at Texas A&M University. Her collection, Reading Modernism with Machines, coedited with James O’Sullivan, comes out from Palgrave in fall 2016. Her work also appears in JMLDHQ, and the Henry James Review.

Images are for demo purposes only and are properties of their respective owners. ROMA by ThunderThemes.net

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