We live in a virtual world, maybe not entirely, but more so
than any generation before.
In fact, as I celebrate the third day of my summer vacation,
I find myself staring longingly at my computer, which I am trying (and failing)
to ignore. The lure of all that
information is almost too strong; I want to know; I want to interact; I want to
connect.
What happened to me?
I used to spend my summers with a paperback in my hand at the beach, but
I seem to have been replaced by a crazy virtual avatar, whose only desire is to
consume information and make connections digitally. I even prefer my Nook and
iPad devices to actual paperbacks.
It seems that I no longer need to have the tactile
experience of turning paper pages; instead, I am perfectly content swiping a
screen to advance to the next section.
I never thought in a million years, I’d prefer that…never. So, as I sat by the pool yesterday reading
on a digital device, I asked myself whether this was the year to move to digital
books in the classroom?
The majority of my students have laptops, iPads, iPhones,
Kindles, or Nooks, and this past year was the first in which multiple students
in each class were using their iPads to read assigned novels. At first, I resisted; I explained that
they needed to be able to write in their books, annotate passages, etc. Then, while reading Feed by MT Anderson (for those who have
experienced this haunting novel, you will find this ironic), I asked a class to
find passages that relate to the downfall of education. I expected this activity to take ten or
fifteen minutes, as it had in the past; however, as my paperback students were
hurriedly flipping pages and re-reading passages, a student exclaimed, “I’ve
found nine references to education.”
I was shocked. How was it
possible for her to find that many reference in less than two minutes? There was no way it was possible.
Then, it hit me…she was using an iPad. She’d simply typed the word “education”
into the search box on her digital Kindle book, and—voila—instant access to
numerous passages on that particular subject.
This was an enlightening experience for me; it was the first
time I realized that reading a digital book might have more advantages. You can highlight in different colors
without carrying around those pesky markers, bookmark specific pages and never
lose them, type (legible) notes on any page, and most importantly, search a
book for specific words or phrases.
This is a literature teacher’s dream.
But digital reading also has a few drawbacks: requirement of
internet service to download books, possibility of a device breaking or running
out of battery power, and in the case of one frustrated student, the difficulty
for some of the less tech-savvy to learn the ins and outs of the device.
Maybe I should wait on the switch. It wasn’t that many years ago that I read Fahrenheit 451 and nearly wept over the
loss of thousands of important books burned in the fires. With my students, I discussed the
likelihood of this ever happening, and we agreed that there was little to no
chance of books ever being rendered useless, and yet here I sit a short eight
years later questioning whether to make the move to digital media. Is this just
metaphorical book burning?
I look at my bookshelf and I think of how beautiful and
fragile my 1840 copy of Ivanhoe is or
how worn my copies of the first few Harry Potter novels are or even how filled
with notes my copy of Frankenstein is
and I ask myself how long it’s been since I last cracked them open. The answer lies in the dust… a long
time.
Maybe what Bradbury was warning us about is happening, but instead of a bonfire filled with paper, we’re
just giving up our books, trading them for something that seems the same, but
isn’t, not quite. Our books will be gone--not with a bang, but a whimper.
