Friday, September 24, 2010

Hypertext: Annotated Choose Your Own Adventures?

I've been trying to think this week about what we know about how texts work well and engage audiences--and how we can apply those understandings to improve our creation of hypertexts and hypermedia. For me, and based on the readings over the past few weeks, good hypertext expands on what we know from our understandings of literacy, rather than abandoning them.

When I was younger, I loved reading Choose Your Own Adventure novels--having that much control over how the story enfolded was an amazing amount of control. Those two--or three--short sentences at the end of each page completely changed the way I engaged with the text. I'll be the first to admit--I almost always peeked ahead to see what was going to happen next with each of the choices before I decided on one--and even read one cover to cover once, rather than by jumping around--and was just continuously amazed at how much the act of flipping pages shaped my experience. When hypermedia is well constructed--especially if we think about novice or intermediate learners (in terms of content knowledge), the format of Choose Your Own Adventure books seems particularly helpful.

When I've created hypermedia before as a teacher, I've often focused on embedding multiple layers of meaning and scaffolding for students. I was amazed to find in this week's literature review that there really isn't any benefit--and in some cases it's even detrimental--to include semantic information like that. In many ways, it reminded me of the editions of Shakespeare I read in high school and college. In the high school texts, the right page was always the traditional Shakespearean text--word for word, line for line. The left hand page included footnotes, translations, and explanations to help clarify the language. In college, however, both pages were Shakespearean text, while the annotations and explanations were at the end of each volume as a series of footnotes. While I remember feeling at the time that the high school versions were a bit too juvenile--too much support and analysis--the formatting was so much more helpful than flipping back and forth to the footnotes--especially when it wasn't clear when there would be information there to find--or not. I wonder how, especially for more advanced/crucial topics, we can take this idea of paralleling annotation and narrative to make semantic information more helpful, rather than distracting.

While there are a lot of things that hypermedia and hypertext can learn from traditional text--formatting, consistency of font, ability to quickly find information--I keep coming back to this idea of conceptualizing good hypermedia as a well constructed, annotated, multimedia choose-your-own-adventure....without the death and injury ;)

What do you think?

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Hypermedia: The good, the neutral, and the really ugly

In thinking about sources of hypermedia, I tend to categorize websites into three basic categories:
  • The Good: those that are so amazing I wish I knew how to design that well
  • The Neutral: those that are ok....but nothing too special
  • The Really Ugly: those that make me think they were designed circa 2000 (or earlier)...and not updated since.
While each has the potential for being rich sources of information, I know that I'm much more likely to be able to focus on the information when sites are well designed and, to some degree, predictable, if the information is something that I really need, I can deal with worse design.

One of my favorite websites to use as an example of an "I wish I could do that" is TasteSpotting. For me, I find it extremely clean and easy to use--it's a great way for me to browse recipe ideas and figure out what looks good--and what doesn't. They draw from several great sources in the blogosphere, and just give a nice snapshot of current trends in "home cooking." It's not perfect--the search engine could be a lot more powerful--but I love the combination of images and text that create a wonderful overview--and provide inspiration for what I'm going to have for dinner tonight, as well as what I'll have in the future.

In terms of a really ugly website, and I hate to say this because the organizers really do run a wonderful festival, is Irish 2000. While the green font on a black background might be culturally appropriate, it's too reminiscent of DOS to be particularly effective. Additionally, no matter what browser you open it in, subsequent pages load below the anchor bar on the left hand side rather than in the frame, making it impossible to get information without scrolling down. The layout is cumbersome, and information difficult--if not impossible--to find.

When evaluating a website as "good design" or "bad design," I think these are my high leverage questions:

1) How easy is it to access the information on each page? Is the layout distracting? Too many flashing icons/colors?

2) How easy is it to navigate between pages? Are links clear? Is it easy to travel in both directions? How many clicks to get back to the home page from any given page?

3) How easy is it to find a specific piece of information? Is there a search and/or index function? How many layers do you have to "dig through" to get to any detail?

What questions do you ask?

Kate

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Digital Native, Digital Immigrant Reflection

I was first introduced to Prensky's dichotimization of digital natives and digital immigrants last summer, and in this reading as in the first, I was struck by how many individuals I know that don't really fall into either of these categories. I am chronologically, and I think accurately, a digital native. In 2001, when this article was published, I was graduating high school. My parents purchased an IBM greenscreen with actual floppy disks and no hard drive that I remember playing with from a very early age. I dabbled with programming for a while because it was a feature in the 3-2-1-Contact magazine I got as a gift, but when I stopped getting the magazine, I moved on to other endeavors. I generally find it easy to pickup new technologies, and moreover, really enjoy exploring their capabilities and developing expertise.

In my work at the Kurt Hahn School (www.kurthahnschool.org), one of my roles was to help teachers, staff, and students use our online grade book and biographical database programs. Some adults--both those within the D-gen and older--would need only short, targeted instruction on basic functions, at which point I could more or less set them free to explore the system, troubleshooting individual problems as they arose. Other adults--both older than and within the D-gen--required much more significant instruction. They wanted their hands held through every step of the process the first several times that they completed any individual task. They were unwilling, or at the very least, wary of exploring the system beyond the confines of what they had already been shown. I saw the same kinds of trends with my high school students (who were born between 1988 and 1995)--some took to technology like fish to water, while others were starkly phobic and required constant supervision and encouragement--and every level in between.

When thinking of instruction, this range of comfort and fluency reminds me that I can't take technological skill or ignorance for granted in any situation. With every group--whether its an online course, virtual meeting, or face to face walkthrough session, some of my instructional time needs to be devoted to providing an appropriate baseline of technological fluency, as needed by the course. While this could include an option for digital natives to "test out," it needs to be robust enough so that when that initial experience is complete, I can reasonably assume that technical issues will not be the driving factor in determining success from that point on. I also need to be sure that the technology in my instruction supports the learning process--that individuals aren't spending more time learning the technology than learning the content. There are many wonderful technologies out there--but if it takes 3 hours to learn how to use it at even a basic level, it might not be worth it for 15 minutes of instruction.

While I think Prensky is right to say that the world is changing, and that the way we view the world is evolving, I find little evidence to suggest that this gap is either consistent or based only on age. Socioeconomic status, country of origin, access, willingness to experiment, and curiosity seem to be essential factors in determining whether an individual has more in common with the digital natives or the digital immigrants. As an educator, I need to be careful not to assume that all individuals over 30 are digital immigrants--or that those under 30 are digital natives.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Welcome!

Hi all, and welcome to my blog for MSTU 4036, Hypermedia and Education. I'll be posting here as I delve into readings and experiment with web design. I've done a fair amount of work adapting existing templates (customizing Blogger, Google sites, etc.), but haven't really done any work from scratch--and I'm looking forward to it!


Hope to learn a lot this semester!

Kate