ICT and International Learning Ecologies: Representation and Sustainability Across Contexts 2021001118, 2021001119, 9780367358556, 9780367363673, 9780429345463

Citation preview

ICT and International Learning Ecologies

ICT and International Learning Ecologies addresses new ways to explore international, comparative, and cultural issues in education and technology. As today’s development orthodoxies push societies around the world to adopt imported information communication tools, new approaches are needed that integrate cultural responsiveness, autonomy, and sustainability into technology-enhanced learning. This edited collection conceptually and methodologically reframes the complexities of teaching and learning in historically marginalized communities around the world, where inequities are often exacerbated by one-size-fits-all programs. Graduate students and researchers of educational technology, international/comparative education, and sustainability education will be better prepared to lead information and communication technologies (ICT) implementation across a range of contexts and learner identities. Ian A. Lubin is an international learning design and technology consultant with experience in national and global educational issues. He is editor of the book ICT-Supported Innovations in Small Countries and Developing Regions: Perspectives and Recommendations for International Education, which received the Best Book Award from the Association for Educational Communications and Technology (AECT)'s Culture, Learning, and Technology Division.

“Can education move beyond the heritage of neocolonialism and neoliberalism? ICT and International Learning Ecologies offers a radical vision of educational technology for a pluralistic world that cherishes human diversity.” —Andrew Feenberg, Professor in the School of Communication at Simon Fraser University, Canada “ICT and International Learning Ecologies is like no other book that I have encountered. It shows how cutting-edge technologies can be harnessed in support of education that challenges Western hegemony and respects diversity around the world. It provides a novel vision of how education can, in turn, support cultural and environmental sustainability, building upon and learning from traditional, local, and indigenous ways of being. This is a timely contribution as the world struggles with climate change, environmental degradation, and growing inequality.” —Juha I. Uitto, Director of the Independent Evaluation Office at the Global Environment Facility, USA “Settler colonialism and its logic of elimination continue to impact Indigenous people and disrupt our ways of knowing, being, and doing in the world. But we are still here. Indigenous peoples remain sceptical about our cultural knowledges and how new technologies have the ability to further marginalise our lives and our collectivities. Certainly, we have little evidence to support that any form of Western intervention will be beneficial to us. ICT and International Learning Ecologies brings forward the debates around Western knowledge and ICT and Indigenous participation. This is an important contribution to the discussions on technology and learning ecologies and how we ensure a more just world where Indigenous peoples are not further exploited and marginalised.” —Bronwyn Carlson, Professor and Head of the Department of Indigenous Studies at Macquarie University, Australia

ICT and International Learning Ecologies Representation and Sustainability Across Contexts

Edited by IAN A. LUBIN

First published 2021 by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 and by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2021 selection and editorial matter, Ian A. Lubin; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Ian A. Lubin to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Lubin, Ian A., editor. Title: ICT and international learning ecologies : representation and ­sustainability across contexts / edited by Ian A. Lubin. Description: New York, NY : Routledge, 2021. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2021001118 (print) | LCCN 2021001119 (ebook) | ISBN 9780367358556 (hardback) | ISBN 9780367363673 (paperback) | ISBN 9780429345463 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Educational technology—Social aspects. | Education—­ Environmental aspects. | Education and globalization. Classification: LCC LB1028.3 .I28 2021 (print) | LCC LB1028.3 (ebook) | DDC 371.33—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021001118 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021001119 ISBN: 9780367358556 (hbk) ISBN: 9780367363673 (pbk) ISBN: 9780429345463 (ebk) Typeset in Avenir and Dante by Apex CoVantage, LLC

For Kai and Kehlani My heritage rediscovered The soul of my rebirth

Contents

List of Contributors ix Acknowledgmentsxi Forewordxii PART I

Introduction and a Landscape of Literacies and Language: Frameworks, Models, and Illustrations

1

1

ICT and International Learning Ecologies: An Introduction Ian A. Lubin

3

2

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, and Brown Paper Larry Stillman, Misita Anwar, Anindita Sarker, Viviane Frings-Hessami, and Gillian Oliver

3

The Impact of Technology on a Multilingual World: Problems and Opportunities Andrew P. Wu, Sarah-Lee R. Gonsalves, and Daniel A. Wagner

4

A Methodology for Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework for Diverse Socioeconomic and Sector Contexts David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

17

42

61

viii Contents PART II

Promoting Cultural Information and Knowledge 5

6

7

Making Culture Visible: A Primer for Culturally Grounded Design Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin Aesthetics and Power: Reforming Access to and the Inclusion of Cultural Content in ICT-Supported Education: A Peruvian Case Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems in ICT-Enabled Education Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, Edwin Blake, Donovan Maasz, Chris Muashekele, Peter Gallert, Colin Stanley, and Alphons Kahuhu Koruhama

85 87

109

132

PART III

Reflections on Positionality, Sustainability, and Design 8

9

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces: Digitization of Intangible Cultural Heritage and the Co-Design of ICT Alongside Indigenous Communities in Namibia Kasper Rodil On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm: Reflections on Mentoring Visiting Saudi Arabian K–12 Teachers Deepak Prem Subramony

159

161

179

Index203

Contributors

Misita Anwar Digital Equity Group, Faculty of Information Technology, Monash University, Victoria, Australia Edwin Blake Department of Computer Science, University of Cape Town, Rondebosch, South Africa Viviane Frings-Hessami Digital Equity Group, Faculty of Information ­Technology, Monash University, Victoria, Australia Peter Gallert Department of Computer Science, Namibia University of ­Science and Technology, Windhoek, Namibia Sarah-Lee R. Gonsalves Graduate School of Education, University of ­Pennsylvania, PA, USA Alphons Kahuhu Koruhama Namibia University of Science and Technology, Windhoek, Namibia Nancy W. Y. Law Centre for Information Technology in Education, Faculty of Education, University of Hong Kong, Hong Hong, China Ian A. Lubin Independent Scholar and Researcher, Riverside, CA, USA Donovan Maasz Namibia University of Science and Technology, Windhoek, Namibia Chris Muashekele Namibia University of Science and Technology, Windhoek, Namibia

x Contributors

Gillian Oliver Digital Equity Group, Faculty of Information Technology, Monash University, Victoria, Australia Kasper Rodil Human-Machine Interaction Group, Department of ­Architecture, Design and Media Technology, Aalborg University, Aalborg, Denmark Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco Faculty of Artificial Intelligence in Education, Central China Normal University, Nanhu Campus, Wuhan, Hubei, China Anindita Sarker Digital Equity Group, Faculty of Information Technology, Monash University, Victoria, Australia Colin Stanley Faculty of Computing and Informatics, Namibia University of Science and Technology, Windhoek, Namibia Larry Stillman Digital Equity Group, Faculty of Information Technology, Monash University, Victoria, Australia Deepak Prem Subramony Department of Curriculum and Instruction, ­College of Education, Kansas State University, Manhattan, KS, USA Michael K. Thomas Department of Educational Psychology, College of ­Education, University of Illinois at Chicago, Chicago, IL, USA Daniel A. Wagner Graduate School of Education, University of P ­ ennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA, USA Heike Winschiers-Theophilus Department of Computer Science, Namibia University of Science and Technology, Windhoek, Namibia David James Woo Centre for Information Technology in Education, Faculty of Education, University of Hong Kong, Hong Hong, China Andrew P. Wu Graduate School of Education, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA, USA

Acknowledgments

This project was a labor of love from many generous and honorable individuals. A special thank you is extended to all the contributors and reviewers who have worked tirelessly to make this volume possible—almost entirely during the COVID-19 pandemic. I would like to thank the following individuals for their comments and other forms of assistance regarding this volume: Dr. Luanne Serieux-Lubin, Alvinus Melius, and Danny Moonie.

Foreword

This book comes with a sense of urgency. As 2030 approaches, our efforts to assess progress and stagnation toward the Sustainable Development Goals increase, yet we do not seem to provide answers just in time to promote the courses of action that would lead to success. When, as it happens with this book, the common thread is technology, accounting for the added value to development and the ‘what works’ in making it happen seems to be an impossible task. Yet, this is what this book attempts to do. In policy discussions about the contribution of technology to development, we still lack the evidence that would help us navigate beyond exacerbated pessimism and evangelism. Many voices remind us that technology evolves at a pace that makes it extremely difficult for those countries or groups lagging behind to reach that comfort level that would dramatically increase life chances and maximize economic and social development opportunities. Other voices see in technology just the contrary: A window of opportunity that could translate into leapfrogging, and they remind us that if access is easy, even laypeople can make technology appropriations that are not foreseen. Many chapters in this book show that the effects of technology use usually go beyond what could have been reasonably expected or planned, and unforeseen benefits, as well as damages, emerge here and there. When it comes to the contribution of technology to development, where are we? The right way to address this multifaceted issue is to expose the existing evidence, both about processes and outcomes, to promote informed decision-making—as this book tries to do. A pending question is whether the resulting knowledge can be of any practical value for those who have to make decisions involving technology in search of social and economic development,

Foreword  xiii

be that at the international, local, or institutional level. Quite often, decisionmakers feel as if they are left in the dark in this domain. The absence of well-supported evidence may quickly turn into unavoidable risks, such as the imperative to follow what others are doing, or to embrace technology-based solutions without a clear understanding of the needs to address or the opportunities to tackle. Some evidence might already exist, but decision-makers, particularly in developing contexts, require access to this evidence in a way that becomes significant for them. There is an urgent need to increase our efforts in capacity development in this area. Compiling what specialists know and making an effort to tailor expert knowledge into practical recommendations are the first steps to strengthen our capacity to deal with very complex issues. Doing that is the mandate of this book. I can undoubtedly certify that the editor has done an excellent job at managing very diverse contributions, both geographically and thematically, intended to enhance our knowledge base about what works and why. Indeed, this is not an easy task. Still, the reader will soon realize that this book excels at addressing that sense of urgency that comes with the Sustainable Development Goals: Collectively, we can make development happen. There is substantial evidence in this book that illustrates how technology can help.

Francesc Pedró, Ph.D. Director, UNESCO International Institute for Higher Education in Latin America and the Caribbean (IESALC) Former Chief of Education Policy at UNESCO Education Sector

Part I

Introduction and a Landscape of Literacies and Language Frameworks, Models, and Illustrations

ICT and International Learning Ecologies

1

An Introduction Ian A. Lubin

1.  Introduction Western forms of education are characterized by hierarchical categorization, chronological sequencing, and institutionalized knowledge, configurations, and relationships. These modalities have come to be regarded as formal/ mainstream education (Coombs & Ahmed, 1974; La Belle, 1982) and reflect a Western modernistic emphasis on productivity and a view of human beings and the natural world as exploitable in the quest for material wealth accumulation. Further, these modes of education reflect conceptions of Western civilization and knowledge that center and solidify questionable beliefs and attitudes about the exceptional power of Western institutions and people. While linked to discernible cultural, economic, and social change, it is debatable whether the spread of Western education around the world has resulted in a more just and culturally diverse global society. Notwithstanding, information and communication technologies (ICT) have been effective transmitters of Western formal education around the world with the promise to improve the life outcomes of the world’s poorest. Out of prudence, it must be stated that while ICT have been shown to improve access to education, serious questions remain about their impact on education quality (Di Battista, Dutta, Geiger, & Lanvin, 2015).

4  Ian A. Lubin

Moreover, there are persistent concerns about the rate of implementation failure of these technology innovations as well as the concentrations of inappropriate, inequitable, and seemingly intractable outcomes (Lubin, 2016, 2018). In some places of the world, the limitations of the colonial expansion of Western education have been laid bare revealing a cultural bankruptcy and an inability or unwillingness to take into consideration local knowledge and ecologically specific modes of meaning. Even worse, Western education has come under criticism for its role in actively destroying local or what is otherwise referred to as traditional and/or indigenous forms of knowledge and culture through systemic means of delegitimization. ICT and International Learning Ecologies is a book that focuses attention on diverse ontologies, design methodologies, and innovations in ICT. The new attention challenges existing perceptions about the learning that occurs outside of the boundaries of traditional Western institutions, settings, and knowledge systems and re-presents this learning as legitimate with ineffable value to an information society. The work embraces an ecological framing that recognizes and promotes traditional/indigenous/local information and knowledge, languages and literacies, oral and textual cultural content, and intangible cultural heritage as inseparable components of peoples’ learning. The authors encourage a careful inspection of the diverse cultural and socioeconomic contexts that are featured by the inquiries in this book. Two distinguishing characteristics of these inquiries are: 1) the explicit framing of ICT to find sustainable solutions for engaging traditional/indigenous information and knowledge; and 2) the endorsement of participatory, experiential, and grassroots co-design methods for international development projects. The work therefore links theory and research on learning design and technology with cultural and ecological sustainability and the promotion of a pluralistic knowledge society. The studies in this collection are at the vanguard of a conceptual and methodological reframing that conjoins the complexities of teaching and learning and the nuances of sustainable cultural life. The cultures and communities encountered in these inquiries help us to unravel the challenges of connecting the digital world (via ICT innovations) to traditional/indigenous/local contexts. The stories portray community life in terms of what the members have reason to value within their ecologies, without discrimination. ICT are therefore given significance by members explicitly for a range of activities deemed congruent with their values and needs, including: 1) safeguarding traditional information and knowledge; and 2) from a ‘development’ standpoint, sustainably improving personal, social, and economic life outcomes. In

ICT and International Learning Ecologies  5

response, the research traditions reflected in this volume include community co-design, participatory design, and critical and analytic reflection. Learning is complex and overlaps multiple social systems and contexts that embody human activity and experience. That is the quintessence of an ecological framework. Put simply, thinking of learning as ecological allows us to recognize individuals and their social relationships that span the multiple contexts (historical, cultural, political, etc.) through which they experience their lives. This conceptualization has established support in the social sciences (Bateson, 1972; Garbarino, 1977; Germain, 1973, 1979, 1991), including in education and human development (Barab  & Roth, 2006; Barron, 2004, 2006; Bronfenbrenner, 1979, 1993, 1995; Lemke, 2000, 2002; Odom, Brown, Schwartz, Zercher, & Sandall, 2002; Timberlake, 1984). Particular to education, ecological perspectives have guided studies in various domains, including, for example, teacher identity (Goodnough, 2010) and perspectives on formal, non-formal, and informal learning, as well as personal and lifelong learning (Barnett  & Jackson, 2019; La Belle, 1982; Maina  & García, 2016). Ecological frameworks have also influenced some work related to information and educational technologies (Barron, 2004, 2006; Luckin, 2010a, 2010b; Nardi & O’Day, 1999; Normak, Pata, & Kaipainen, 2012; Pachler, Cook, & Bachmair, 2010; van den Beemt & Diepstraten, 2016). In spite of these efforts, previous work fails to fully explore the cultural and ecological landscape of technology with a specific focus on ICT and global contexts. This volume provides such an examination of technological innovations in cultural contexts as it expands the ecological framework to the field of educational technology and ICT.

1.1  International Learning Ecologies When the term ICT is used to prepose social and economic endeavors (e.g. ICT‑4learning, ‑4development, and ‑4peace‑building), there often is an implicit proposal of beneficence toward deficient others in faraway places. The ICT enterprise is seen to take on an international aspect. We are cued to think about the social, political, cultural, and economic collectivities of these people in these contexts, as well as their shortcomings that validate the need for our ICT interventions—their ignorance, poverty, and conflict. Yet in spite of the values we hold about other people, we often think of technologies in agnostic terms—as being neutral and value free. This potentially serious conflict results in us failing to think about how our own cultural values, embedded in our technologies and instructional processes, collide with the values

6  Ian A. Lubin

of others in the international ecologies where we export and implement our innovations. In reality, our ostensibly benevolent ICT advocacy reflects our value judgments (valid or not) about those people and places, and our values are transmitted through our technology designs and modernizations. I introduce the term ‘international learning ecologies’ to respond to learning that takes place in contexts that are not considered Western or mainstream, and to integrate this conception and phrasing into the common education technology research parlance. As new attention is being placed on the importance of recognizing the diversity of these non-Western learning contexts, an accepted or even useful nomenclature paves the way for legitimizing research and discourse.

2. Reflecting and Representing the Traditional, Local, and Indigenous Three main terms in the literature denote or describe the contexts and people studied in this book: Traditional, local, and indigenous. While the terms are sometimes used interchangeably, they convey different meanings depending on use, and therefore need some clarifications for our purposes. First, when we speak of traditional people or contexts, we are referring to individuals or groups who observe specific customs, values, or beliefs that have been handed down from generation to generation. Traditional may also refer to the manner in which people pass down their traditions, or the stated condition of being passed down in this way. In this sense, traditional speaks to the transmission of customs in a way that is distinguished from knowledge or cultural diffusion in Western society. Thus, it is common to see the juxtaposition of traditional versus Western modes of human activity and experience. A second term, local, conveys individual or group identification with a specific area, and also denotes a specific area. In other words, local customs can be thought of as belonging or relating exclusively to the people of a particular area. Additionally, the term local contrasts with notions of being imported from some other place, and therefore signals the importance of origin and source. Local is therefore often used to distinguish the insiders and outsiders of a community. However, it is conceivable for an outsider to eventually become an insider through various mechanisms, e.g. exposure or acceptance. This characteristic does not apply for the term indigenous discussed as follows. A third term, indigenous, while also conveying similar meanings as traditional and local, is a bit more nuanced. To be indigenous means to originate

ICT and International Learning Ecologies  7

or be born in a specific place. It refers to natives or first people by birthright. It also denotes things that occur naturally in such an environment, e.g. the language. An outsider cannot plausibly become indigenous. Notably, in every part of the world today, indigenous people and their ecologies have become marginalized, undervalued, and vulnerable. The following sections bring this state of affairs into sharper focus.

2.1  Indigenous People? There is no single definition for indigenous (UNHR OHC, 2013). Indigenous people are quite heterogeneous, even as there is overlap in how they are described. The United Nations (UN) and other international organizations, such as the World Health Organization (WHO), have opted to describe indigenous people rather than to define them. What their various descriptions have in common is that indigenous people are the historical inhabitants of land spaces and they maintain an identity, culture, and way of life that is closely linked to this land. According to the WHO (2020), Indigenous populations are communities that live within, or are attached to, geographically distinct traditional habitats or ancestral territories, and who identify themselves as being part of a distinct cultural group, descended from groups present in the area before modern states were created and current borders defined. They generally maintain cultural and social identities, and social, economic, cultural and political institutions, separate from the mainstream or dominant society or culture. Indigenous people are ‘first people.’ These ‘first people’ were displaced by new arrivals who “became dominant through conquest, occupation, settlement or other means” (UNPFII, 2020, p. 1). Spanning approximately 90 countries around the world, indigenous people represent about 6 percent of the world population (World Bank, 2020). Put another way, there are between 370 million and 500 million indigenous people across the globe (UNDP, 2020). They live in every world region (Buchholz, 2020; Cultural Survival, 2020) and represent approximately 5,000 different cultures (UNDP, 2020). Importantly, some regions have a higher concentration of indigenous people than others. For example, in spite of China having the largest population of indigenous people in the world (about 112 million), the country with the largest percentage of indigenous persons in the population is Greenland, with an 88 percent indigenous population (Buchholz, 2020).

8  Ian A. Lubin

2.2 Why Focus on Indigenous People? Indigenous people represent about 15 percent of the world’s extreme poor (World Bank, 2020; UNDP, 2020) and often suffer from inadequate social protections and economic resources (UNDP, 2020). Additionally, their life expectancy can be as much as 20 years less than non-indigenous persons worldwide (World Bank, 2020; UNDP, 2020) and they typically lack sufficient healthcare and health information (UNDP, 2020). According to the World Bank (2020), indigenous communities face “multidimensional aspects of poverty” that could only be alleviated by “promoting public investments in quality and culturally appropriate service provision.” This would include improving security of land tenure, strengthening governance, and supporting indigenous systems for the livelihood and resilience of these communities. Indigenous people have added great value to the world, and this must not go unnoticed. For example, with respect to language, the vast majority of the world’s 7,000 languages was created by and is still spoken by indigenous people (UNDP, 2020). Indigenous people today speak more than 4,000 of the world’s languages (Cultural Survival, 2020). This is important since languages are at the core of identity, worldview, and “expressions of self-determination” (UNDP, 2020). Language and literacy are also indispensable in the preservation of culture. Unfortunately, it is estimated that one indigenous language dies every two weeks (UNDP, 2020). Approximately 40 percent of languages are under threat of extinction, the majority of which are indigenous languages (UNDESA, 2019). There are over 5,000 different indigenous groups worldwide—people who are distinct from non-indigenous groups in terms of language, culture, and belief (Amnesty International, 2020). A  defining feature across indigenous people is the retention of cultural characteristics that are distinct from other segments of the general population (UNPFII, 2020). Indigenous people share a close symbiotic relationship with their ancestral land and the natural world, and this is important to their culture and way of life (Cultural Survival, 2020; UNPFII, 2020). Important to indigenous culture is knowledge about the natural world and the place of humans living harmoniously with nature. Many of these cultural traditions are still practiced. Unfortunately, the reality is that most indigenous groups are denied the opportunity to express their culture (Amnesty International, 2020). As an example, “Peaceful efforts by Indigenous Peoples to maintain their cultural identity or exercise control over their traditional lands, which are often rich in resources and biodiversity, have led to accusations of treason or terrorism” (Amnesty International, 2020).

ICT and International Learning Ecologies  9

Indigenous communities have given much in terms of environmental sustainability. They are at the forefront when it comes to protecting the environment, as these communities live in harmony with their surroundings. Biodiversity and forests thrive where indigenous groups have control over land, and their contributions to combating climate change are still only being discovered (UNDP, 2020). Remarkably, indigenous persons and groups own, occupy, or use about only 25  percent of the surface area of the globe, yet approximately 80  percent of the remaining biodiversity of the world rests with indigenous populations. They have important ancestral knowledge and expertise on adapting to, mitigating, and reducing climate and disaster risks (World Bank, 2020). Unfortunately, indigenous people are often not formally recognized as the owners of their lands, territories, and natural resources (World Bank, 2020). They are often not prioritized in terms of public investments in basic services and infrastructure. Further, the barriers that they face often prevent full participation in the formal economy, political processes, and decision-making, and prevent access to justice (World Bank, 2020). In terms of development, “indigenous peoples hold their own diverse concepts of development, based on their traditional values, visions, needs and priorities” (UNPFII, 2020). Because of this, often times, indigenous populations and their cultural and development priorities are at odds with governments and multinational corporations, in particular extractive industries. These groups often violate the rights of indigenous peoples by “operating in their territories without their Free, Prior and Informed Consent” (Cultural Survival, 2020). New attention is being paid to indigenous and traditional people by national governments, as well as in the form of international instruments and other legal frameworks, including 23 ratifications of the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention from 1991, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) in 2007, the American Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples in 2016, the establishment of the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (UNPFII), the Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (EMRIP), and the UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNSRRIP) (World Bank, 2020). Additionally, 2019 was declared by the UN General Assembly as the International Year of Indigenous Languages in an effort to, among other things, improve the lives of the speakers of these languages whose complex bodies of knowledge and whose cultures are increasingly viewed as “strategic resources for good governance . . . and sustainable development” (UNDESA, 2019). It is against this backdrop—a careful inspection of international learning ecologies—that we present this collection that delves into the role of

10  Ian A. Lubin

technology in learning in contexts that embody traditional, local, and indigenous ways of being. It is hoped that such a focus could inspire genuine and positive social change and a society that tilts toward plurality.

3. Structure of the Collection The chapters in the volume are assembled in order to distill positions and conversations around technology and cultural and ecological sustainability. The works are diverse in terms of their topics, methodologies, and geographic contexts. There is also diversity in terms of the contributors—making this a truly multicultural effort. Educators, designers, researchers, and community members who are featured in this book are situated in a wide range of contexts around the world. The authors are committed to working toward a better and more just society. The chapters feature people and cultural activity in Argentina, Peru, Namibia, South Africa, Bangladesh, Saudi Arabia, and the United States, thus spanning four continents. The authors are based in six countries.

3.1 Thematic Structure The volume is separated into three parts to help focus readers’ attention on the essence of the chapters. After an introduction by Lubin that lays out the intentions, expectations, and definitions of the volume, the first part focuses on language and literacies and introduces new frameworks and models. Stillman, Anwar, Sarker, Frings-Hessami, and Oliver, in their chapter ‘Talk, smartphone, notebooks, and brown paper’ (Chapter 2) examine the concepts of orality and literacy and describe them as cultural constructs that are enabled in different ways by technology. The chapter focuses on traditional village environments in Bangladesh. The authors expound on what they describe as an ‘information ecology’ and its impact on the sustainable creation, preservation, and pluralization of traditional information and knowledge. They offer recommendations on how to work in international development contexts. Wu, Gonsalves, and Wagner, in their chapter ‘The impact of technology on a multilingual world: Problems and opportunities’ (Chapter 3), demonstrate how the challenges faced in multilingual education are parallel to and interdependent with the threats that confront the domain of technologies for education. The authors provide a framework for analyzing and designing educational projects for information and communications

ICT and International Learning Ecologies  11

technologies. They carefully demonstrate how language planning and policy can enhance our understanding in technology domains of ICT4E by applying their framework to analyze design solutions for indigenous languages in Argentina and South Africa. Woo and Law, in their chapter ‘A methodology for deploying a digital literacy framework for diverse socioeconomic and sector contexts’ (Chapter 5), describe the development of a pathway mapping methodology for digital literacy that accounts for the complexities in the broader social contexts when creating solutions compatible with local needs. The pathway methodology tracks the progression of digital literacy skills and competencies needed to design context-appropriate digital literacy education, training, and assessment for changing ecologies, and it emphasizes stakeholder collaboration. The second part focuses on the recognition and promotion of cultural information and knowledge. In their chapter ‘Making culture visible: A primer for culturally grounded design’ (Chapter 5), Thomas and Lubin make the case for a cultural theory of ICT for learning. They argue that not only is considering culture beneficial to the field of instructional design, but that making culture visible is a moral imperative. The authors contend that failure to make culture visible is tantamount to viewing technologies as mere tools, devoid of any agency or cultural relevance, and such an approach ultimately leads to new forms of imperialism as we design for contexts other than our own and as we expand ICT4L efforts throughout the world. The authors track the development of Native American education in the United States as an illustration. Salas-Pilco, in her chapter ‘Aesthetics and power: Reforming access to and the inclusion of cultural content in ICT-supported education: A Peruvian case’ (Chapter 6) makes a strong appeal for the inclusion of cultural diversity in education by using ICT to incorporate not only cultural content but also cultural aesthetics to meet the needs of indigenous communities. The author illustrates such efforts in Peru, as in the case of the Aymara indigenous people. The author tracks this work at the regional, national, and local school levels, and promotes a vision of a future of multiethnic, multilingual, and multicultural indigenous learning fostering cultural diversity and empowering indigenous culture. In a similar fashion, Winschiers-Theophilus, Blake, Maasz, Muashekele, Gallert, Stanley, and Koruhama, in their chapter ‘Embracing indigenous knowledge systems in ICT-enabled education’ (Chapter 7), argue that it is not merely indigenous content, but also their underlying epistemologies and values, that must be embraced. The authors emphatically call for a reimagining and repositioning of indigenous people and their knowledge systems with a focus toward a pluralistic knowledge society channeled through an ICT-enabled integration of indigenous knowledge systems

12  Ian A. Lubin

in education. The authors detail their work with the Ovahimba indigenous people in Namibia. The third part contains analytic reflections on issues of positionality, sustainability, and design. Rodil, in his chapter ‘Reflections from the boundary spaces: Digitization of intangible cultural heritage and the co-design of ICT alongside indigenous communities in Namibia’ (Chapter 8) speaks to the importance of collaboration between outside researchers and technology designers and local community members involved in international development work. The author elaborates on the usefulness of participatory design methodology for resolving some challenges in safeguarding intangible cultural heritage with indigenous communities. The author offers reflections on his positionality as a Westerner traversing non-Western ecologies, and illustrates how outsiders cross over these boundary spaces with cultural perspectives that can actively misrepresent the indigenous cultural heritage they attempt to safeguard. Finally, Subramony’s chapter, ‘On being proficient enough to do (no) harm: Reflections on mentoring visiting Saudi Arabian K–12 teachers’ (Chapter 9) points to a set of critical considerations for attempting to introduce Western technology-based performance solutions into non-Western sociocultural ecologies. The author’s perspectives are supported in his work as a Western-educated and trained educational technologist mentoring Saudi Arabian in-service K–12 teachers in an international and cross-cultural professional experience inside the United States. The author describes how contemporary attempts at cross and intercultural exchange are shifting the direction of our technology advocacy as we now see non-Western countries sending their selected representatives to sample and curate from inside Western learning ecologies to bring back to their own.

3.2 Pedagogical Features This volume explores the cultural and ecological landscape of technology for educational purposes globally. The collection would likely appeal to those teaching in graduate programs in the learning sciences, educational technology, and instructional/learning design from a critical/cultural perspective. Additionally, it may be useful to graduate programs in educational leadership, international education, or critical studies in education. This is a broadly based book that can also add value to discourses in cultural studies that focus on technological innovations or digital interpretations of society, cultures, and individuals. To assist in making this volume instructionally and pedagogically accessible, we the authors have included several features that are discussed in what follows.

ICT and International Learning Ecologies  13

3.2.1 Issues in Brief In these sections, authors provide short explanations of the essential problem(s) or issue(s) that the chapters address. This is important, as many issues in international education are complex and co-defined. Helping the reader to focus on the chapters’ main issues can be of great benefit in our effort to account for the diversity across the topics. The ‘Issues in Brief’ sections will appear at the end of each chapter.

3.2.2 Key Messages At the end of each chapter, there also will appear a section outlining ‘Key Messages.’ This is a space where the authors will signal to readers, in an explicit way, the fundamental knowledge they believe readers should gain from engaging with the work. In so doing, the authors are able to communicate directly to the reader the takeaway messages that are germane to the work.

3.2.3 Reflection Questions The authors provide ‘Reflection Questions’ at the end of each chapter to help guide readers as they internalize the work and gain metacognitive knowledge. These questions should help readers consolidate their knowledge about the subject areas, discover the limits of their own knowledge, and develop new questions to guide their future learning.

Summary The authors of this volume re-establish the usefulness of an ecological framework by refocusing our attention on international education and development work with ICT. By recognizing the frontiers of local, traditional, and indigenous learning ecologies in international contexts in relation to our own Western ecological frame, we may be able to arrive at greater moral and ethical realizations in our design practice and our technology advocacy. It is hoped that the works presented in this collection will contribute toward building a more pluralistic and cosmopolitan knowledge society and be a catalyst for advancing genuine and long-lasting educational and social change.

14  Ian A. Lubin

Acknowledgments The author would like to thank Dr. Luanne Serieux-Lubin for her valuable insights and her research contributions to this chapter. All shortcomings are the responsibility of the author.

References Amnesty International. (2020). Indigenous peoples. Retrieved from www.amnesty.org/en/ what-we-do/indigenous-peoples/ Barab, S. A., & Roth, W. (2006). Curriculum-based ecosystems: Supporting knowing from an ecological perspective. Educational Researcher, 35(5), 3–13. Barnett, R., & Jackson, N. (Eds.). (2019). Ecologies for learning and practice: Emerging ideas, sightings, and possibilities. London: Imprint Routledge. Barron, B. (2004). Learning ecologies for technological fluency: Gender and experience differences. Journal of Educational Computing Research, 31(1), 1–36. Barron, B. (2006). Interest and self-sustained learning as catalysts of development: A learning ecology perspective. Human Development, 49(4), 193–224. Bateson, G. (1972). Steps to an ecology of mind. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979). The ecology of human development. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1993). The ecology of cognitive development: Research models and fugitive findings. In R. H. Wozniak & W. Fisher (Eds.), Development in context: Acting and thinking in specific environments (pp. 3–44). Hillsdale: Erlbaum. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1995). Developmental ecology through space and time: A future perspective. In P. Moen & G. H. Elder Jr. (Eds.), Examining lives in context: Perspectives on the ecology of human development (pp. 619–647). Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Buchholz, K. (2020, May  27). Indigenous people: Where the world’s indigenous people live. Retrieved from www.statista.com/chart/18981/countries-with-the-largest-share-ofindigenous-people/ Coombs, P. H., & Ahmed, M. (1974). Attacking Rural Poverty: How non-formal education can help. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press. Cultural Survival. (2020). The issues. Retrieved from www.culturalsurvival.org/issues Di Battista, A., Dutta, S., Geiger, T., & Lanvin, B. (2015). The networked readiness index 2015: Taking the pulse of the ICT revolution. In S. Dutta, T. Geiger, & B. Lanvin (Eds.), The global information technology report (pp. 3–30). Geneva: World Economic Forum. Garbarino, J. (1977). The human ecology of child maltreatment. Journal of Marriage and the Family, 39, 721–735. Germain, C. B. (1973, June). An ecological perspective in casework practice. Social Casework, 51, 323–330. Germain, C. B. (Ed.). (1979). Introduction: Ecology and social work. In Social work practice: People and environments. New York: Columbia University Press. Germain, C. B. (1991). Human behavior in the social environment: An ecological view. New York: Columbia University Press.

ICT and International Learning Ecologies  15 Goodnough, K. (2010). The role of action research in transforming teacher identity: Modes of belonging and ecological perspectives. Educational Action Research, 18(2), 167–182. La Belle, T. J. (1982). Formal, nonformal and informal education: A holistic perspective on lifelong learning. International Review of Education, 28(2), 159–175. Lemke, J. (2000). Across the scales of time: Artifacts, activities, and meanings in ecosocial systems. Mind, Culture and Activity, 7(4), 273–290. Lemke, J. (2002). Language development and identity: Multiple timescales in the social ecology of learning. In C. Kramsch (Ed.), Language Acquisition and Language Socialization. Ecological Perspectives (pp. 68–87). London: Continuum. Lubin, I. A. (2016). Intentional ICT: Curriculum, education and development [IBE Working Papers on Curriculum Issues No. 17]. Geneva: IBE-UNESCO. Lubin, I. A. (2018). Global forces, local needs, and ICT-supported innovations in small countries and developing regions: Overcoming the misalignment [An editorial ­introduction]. In I. A. Lubin (Ed.), ICT-Supported innovations in small countries and developing regions: Perspectives and recommendations for international education (pp. 3–26). ­Switzerland: Springer International Publishing. Luckin, R. (2010a). Re-designing learning contexts. Technology-rich, learner-centred ecologies. London: Routledge. Luckin, R. (2010b). Learning contexts as ecologies of resources: A unifying approach to the interdisciplinary development of technology rich learning activities. International Journal on Advances in Life Sciences, 2(3), 154–164. Maina, M. F, & García, I. (2016). Articulating personal pedagogies through learning ecologies. In B. Gros & M. Kinshuk (Eds.), The future of ubiquitous learning, lecture notes in educational technologies (pp. 73–90). Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer. Nardi, B., & O’Day, V. (1999). Information ecologies: Using technology with heart. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Normak, P., Pata, K., & Kaipainen, M. (2012). An ecological approach to learning dynamics. Educational Technology & Society, 15(3), 262–274. Odom, S. L., Brown, W. H., Schwartz, I. S., Zercher, C., & Sandall, S. R. (2002). Classroom ecology and child participation. In S. L. Odom (Ed.), Widening the circle: Including children with disabilities in preschool programs (pp.  25–45). New York: Teachers College Press. Pachler, N., Cook, J., & Bachmair, B. (2010). Whither a socio-cultural ecology of learning with mobile devices. In N. Pachler, J. Cook, & B. Bachmair (Eds.), Mobile learning. Structures, agency, practices (pp. 155–171). London: Springer. Timberlake, W. (1984). An ecological approach to learning. Learning and Motivation, 15(4), 321–333. United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs (UNDESA). (2019). 2019 International Year of Indigenous Languages. Retrieved from www.un.org/development/desa/ dspd/2019/01/2019-international-year-of-indigenous-languages/ United Nations Development Program (UNDP). (2020). 10 things to know about indigenous peoples. Retrieved from https://stories.undp.org/10-things-we-all-should-knowabout-indigenous-people United Nations Human Rights, Office of the High Commissioner (UNHR OHC). (2013). Indigenous peoples and the United Nations human rights system. [Fact Sheet No. 9/Rev.2]. New York and Geneva: United Nations. Retrieved from www.ohchr.org/Documents/ Publications/fs9Rev.2.pdf

16  Ian A. Lubin United Nations Permanent Forum in Indigenous Issues (UNPFII). (2020). Indigenous peoples, indigenous voices. [Factsheet]. Retrieved from www.un.org/esa/socdev/unpfii/ documents/5session_factsheet1.pdf van den Beemt, A., & Diepstraten, I. (2016). Teacher perspectives on ICT: A learning ecology approach. Computers & Education, 92, 161–170. World Bank. (2020). Indigenous peoples. Retrieved from www.worldbank.org/en/topic/ indigenouspeoples World Health Organization (WHO). (2020). Indigenous people. Retrieved from www.who. int/topics/health_services_indigenous/en/

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, and Brown Paper

2

Larry Stillman, Misita Anwar, Anindita Sarker, Viviane FringsHessami, and Gillian Oliver

1. Introduction The purpose of this chapter is to discuss oral and textual information and knowledge in traditional communities and their relationship to information technology. In its broadest terms, many traditional communities, governments, and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) are concerned about the loss of traditional knowledge and skills, as well as enhancing the life chances of vulnerable communities through the help of technology. If we understand an information ecology to be “[a] system of people, practices, values, and technologies in a particular local environment” (Nardi & O’Day, 1999, p. 49), traditional communities are faced with the challenge of digitally documenting their information and knowledge in a sustainable way—in a way that promotes human dignity and economic, social, and psychological sustainability. This is not the place to discuss the vast literature on sustainability, but as a point of reference, the Capability Approach with its emphasis on outcomes that promote human freedom and dignity is taken as a benchmark (Kleine, 2014; Nussbaum, 2000; Sen, 2001). A  case study of village communities in

18  Larry Stillman, et al.

Bangladesh is used to illuminate the challenges of developing and sustaining such an endeavor for both local and international partners. To an outsider, at first sight, the task of transferring local—particularly oral—community knowledge to a documented format (such as text, or electronic media, such as an application) might seem simple: With the community’s permission, record as best as you can their oral stories, accounts, illustrations, physical activity, and practices (such things as drawings, performances, or agricultural processes). Then, the next task appears to be to redistribute authentic and correct information to that community in a useful form. Potentially, this information and knowledge could also go to other audiences, including other traditional communities or NGOs, or it could be used in research. In fact, it is a far more complex process than that just described, because much traditional activity is processual and heavily embedded in local cultures that may not be easily entered by outsiders. As well as this, not all the players involved have the same understandings of what is important or valid to document or preserve, nor may they have the same political understandings about whose knowledge is to be accessed and in what ways that is to be made available. Most often, traditional communities live in collective environments, or ecologies, “in communion” with each other (Ketelaar, 2005, p. 45). Consequently, outsiders working in local contexts are interacting with what we can call data cultures in all their social, cultural, and political complexity. This chapter discusses data cultures in international development in the following ways. First, the project setting in Bangladesh is discussed. Second, key literature and concepts are reviewed. Third, the concept of the ‘double hermeneutic’ is reviewed, as a way of explaining the relationship between researchers and the researched. Then, participatory action research conducted in Bangladesh with villagers is considered as a case study in the transmission, creation, and sharing of knowledge in a traditional community though accounts of different activities in the project. Finally, conclusions and observations are drawn. We then offer key points and questions for reflection.

2. Project Setting The PROTIC (‘Participatory Research and Ownership with Technology, Information and Change’) project is a collaboration between Monash University in Australia and Oxfam, through its affiliates in Australia and particularly Oxfam in Bangladesh. The acronym PROTIC fittingly means ‘sign’ in the Bengali language. Bangladesh has a population of approximately 160  million, of which around 80  percent live in villages and whose livelihood and

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  19

daily nutrition are dependent on agriculture or aquaculture. Geographically, it can be regarded as a fertile, mostly low-lying riverine floodplain adjoining the Himalayas to the north, with 230 rivers, though it is dominated by the massive Ganges-Brahmaputra delta. Floods, cyclones, earthquakes, and now climate change have negative impacts on food security and sustainable livelihoods for low-income people, and the security of the country as a whole (Asaduzzaman, 2016; Uttam, 2016). Bangladesh “is not so much a land upon water as water upon a land” (Novak, 2008, p. 23). PROTIC in its first stage (2015–2019) was a participatory action research initiative to support and empower isolated village women with ICT in Bangladesh. The project has received funding for 2020–2025, with different foci. The main goal of the first stage of the project was to empower rural women through smartphone technology by giving them information in order to support the development of sustainable agriculture, aquaculture, and related issues. The development of suitable technology, content, and safe interfaces for women in Bangladesh is a recognized problem (Sambasivan et al., 2019). Three hundred women farmers in three villages that were part of ongoing projects with NGOs were given smartphones and phone credit to enable them to access information on agricultural topics relevant to their everyday lives. The research focused on three isolated communities, chosen because they represent different ecological systems in this environment. One village is in the far northwest of Bangladesh, where sand islands form, and which is largely dependent on crops. The second is in the coastal United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) World Heritage Site southern mangroves region, where the economy is dependent on aquaculture. The third, in the northeast region, is characterized by bowllike depressions that form wetlands and vast inland seas. However, only the first two communities were involved for the research presented in this chapter.1 As a participatory action research project, PROTIC aimed to have as much participation as possible from the women themselves in the development of homegrown content based on their highly localized information, indigenous knowledge, and needs.2 The academic research team itself is multicultural, with members from Australia, Bangladesh, Belgium, Indonesia, Italy, and New Zealand. The Oxfam Bangladesh staffing in Dhaka is Bengali- and English-speaking. In the target communities, the local NGOs have far less facility with English and in fact, at times, both Dhaka-based staff and the NGOs use a localized spoken and written English called ‘Banglish’ with which the foreign researchers have had to adjust. While this multicultural and participatory

20  Larry Stillman, et al.

research dynamic can only be briefly acknowledged here, it has contributed to a richly interpretive perspective on linguistic, textual, and cultural interactions in the research process (Sarrica, Stillman, Denison, Chakraborty, & Auvi, 2019). The women were also provided with training and regular staff assistance to learn and use the devices and understand the information they received as part of the project. A media outreach company was engaged to provide localized agricultural information about crops, poultry, livestock, vegetable gardening, fish, crabs, and shrimp, as well as weather-related information based on the women’s expressed priorities. Information was sent to them via short message service (SMS) and outbound dialing (OBD) on a regular basis. A  call center that women could contact was established, with staff trained in agricultural and fisheries information. Local NGOs were also engaged by Oxfam to engage in training and support through onsite community development workers. In addition, two mobile phone apps—one on maize production, the other on the government subsidies available to villagers—were developed specifically for the project. As part of this training, the women were also shown how to use Facebook to share various information related to agriculture, as well as to discuss other topics of interest to them. Significantly, the use of notebooks and communal brown paper posters by the village women participants for documenting the information and oral discussion and sharing in everyday life is a practice that developed autonomously and was supported by the local NGOs. This is in contrast with the digital information promoted by the project. This important aspect will be discussed more fully later.

3. Literature Review 3.1 Traditional Communities, Indigenous Communities, and Anti-Oppressive Research For the purposes of this chapter, traditional community is a term of convenience used to include both indigenous and other community groups that are closely linked to the land and traditional ways of life and that have a collective orientation. International development should aim to work well at this local level, which represents “the life and history of a people” (Escobar, 1995, p. 98). We have also adopted Sillitoe’s (2006) conception of indigenous knowledge as relevant to the study here:

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  21

Indigenous knowledge informs behaviour, learnt from birth onwards. It focuses on provincial interests and concerns, often communicated in foreign idioms and styles, which we understand to varying extents. It is the heritage of everyday life, based on experience, often tested over centuries of use, adapted to local conditions. Repetitive practice may typify its learning, it being equally skill as formally transmitted knowledge. It is understanding, evolved over generations, subject to continual revision. While it is ever-changing and modified by information from elsewhere, it maintains its distinctive character, subject to ongoing local, regional and global negotiation. (p. 2) Furthermore, as the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples makes clear, collective cultural rights and rights of control of culture and knowledge are to be recognized. Such recognition considers the collective orientation and the collective rights of communities over the information they produce and use. In other words, one should act as an antioppressive researcher (Bishop, 2005; Potts & Brown, 2005; Smith, 1999). Active participation of communities as research partners, not merely subjects of researcher control, is strongly encouraged, though there is considerable controversy over the reality versus the rhetoric of this kind of bottom-up participation. An outsider’s taken-for-granted assumption that ‘speaking openly’ and ‘democratic participation’ will occur with village participants (assuming that these words and concepts can be adequately translated and understood) is a good example. In fact, such assumptions can easily come into conflict with traditional power relationships that determine who and how people talk, at least in public settings. Structural impediments can exist in the traditional village or via social or economic structures (Arens, 2011). Or, as was observed in the project, and is discussed in Section 4.3 of this chapter, unintended consequences of social media activity can hurt a community. Of course, similar behavior can occur in any setting, but in international community development, colonization and patronization by outsiders of traditional modes of communication and participation, however well-intended, can be seen as insulting and disrespectful and threatening to personal security. Outsiders, unless invited in to do so, should not unilaterally challenge what are seen as problematic community ways of doing and being, and even then, doing so demands great care and skill (Bryceson, Manicom,  & Kassam, 2008; Chae, 2008; Potts & Brown, 2005). Consequently, a modified and culturally sensitive participatory orientation has informed PROTIC’s research and implementation processes with the communities.

22  Larry Stillman, et al.

3.2 Information, Knowledge, and Information Ecologies From an anthropological point of view applied to development projects in Bangladesh, Sillitoe (2006) speaks of information and knowledge as, any understanding rooted in local culture. It includes all knowledge held more or less collectively by a population that informs interpretation of things. It can vary between regions with similar populations. It comes from a range of sources, is a dynamic mix of past “tradition” and present invention with a view to the future. (p. 1) However, there are multiple forms and interpretations of knowledge, and even points of entry to knowledge, as determined by community stakeholders, are qualified by Sillitoe’s (2006) statement that there is no “grand repository” (p. 3). Some archivists also make a related claim that “there is no single collective memory. Even if members of a group have experienced what they remember, they do not remember the same or in the same way” (Ketelaar, 2005, p. 44). These nuances, when filtered through the dimension of community politics and power relations and access to resources, serve as an alert about naïve expectations and assumptions by outsiders concerning unitary and representative communal expression, memory, process, and participation. Traditional communities can be as riven by divisions, politics, and hidden stories and agendas as much as any community or institution (Bryceson et al., 2008; Christens & Speer, 2006). If we accept that there is no such thing as a grand repository of unique, absolute knowledge to draw upon, some thinkers in information studies usefully suggest that information and knowledge should rather be considered as an information ecology, a system in which “people, practices, values, and technologies” interact in the complex ways suggested previously (Nardi  & O’Day, 1999, p.  49). Lack of attention to the ecologies in technology projects can result in narrow and technical “tunnel design” that can ignore significant social factors making projects unsustainable. These limitations can “bite back”—and not infrequently result in constraints and failures to projects (Brown & Duguid, 2013, p. 1; Brown & Mickelson, 2019; Heeks, 2002). Significantly, people (and objects) can have different points of intersection in this information ecology. For example, what suits external researchers in their understanding of information and knowledge processes (and researchers are under the publish-or-perish imperative), and how and when to obtain them, may be very different from what an NGO in Dhaka desires, or what people in a remote village—hundreds of miles away from Dhaka

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  23

by plane, bumpy road, and riverboat—have the capacity or will to make available. In sum, the totality of information and knowledge relations in an information ecology come to constitute a data culture. Consequently, the way that people at various levels in an information ecology navigate cultural communalities, differences, and access to resources, the variant ways they create and obtain information, and the ways they access and interpret that information sets up cultural and structural conditions that enable and constrain the flow of information via different media. This in turn affects the sustainability of information flows. For example, information could be oral data filtered by the provision of certain written records via authorized spokespersons (for example, only certain parts of oral written-down community history that is regarded as private or sacred may be shared). Consequently, while in a perfect world information or data flows between parties in an unimpeded manner, nothing in the real world functions perfectly and there are always constraints. We can, in fact, suggest that there exist at least two forms of data culture. One is the normative context or ideal for information literacy: “a set of abilities requiring individuals to recognize when information is needed and have the ability to locate, evaluate, and use effectively the needed information” (American Library Association, 2020). This is akin to what is known in program evaluation as a program theory that sets out the conditions for what is supposed to happen with a particular intervention. Investigating what happens in the field helps to understand the reality of the program theory and its result in practice. In this specific case, we contrast the ideal of information literacy with the second type of data culture that actually exists on the ground (Chen, 2005).

3.3 Orality and Textuality In comparison to written text, orality and related forms of culture, such as dance, music, and performance, have been regarded by some key thinkers in the West—at least since the time of Homer and the ancient Greeks—as the only authentic and genuine forms of communication. Thus, in [a]n oral culture learning or knowing means achieving close, empathetic, communal identification with the known. . . . Textuality (writing and documentation) separates the knower from the known and thus sets up conditions for “objectivity”, in the sense of personal disengagement or distancing. (Ong, 1982, p. 45)

24  Larry Stillman, et al.

The previously mentioned privileging of oral culture continues in descriptions of indigenous culture, in contrast to the deleterious distancing effects of external, colonial textuality. Thus, we hear of the “ ‘treasures of the ancestors’, the collective wisdom of the ages, that guides and monitors everyday practice” (Bishop, 2005, p. 128). In fact, according to such influential critics as the Maori scholar Tuhiwai-Smith, to compensate for the effects of colonization and repression, “there should be methodologies and approaches that privilege indigenous knowledges, voices, experiences [and] reflections” (Tuhiwai-Smith, 2005, p. 87). However, the question needs to be asked: Is there truly such a thing as an indigenous culture that has not suffered from politics or intrusion? World history points to a dialect between culture and politics from the earliest times of which we know. Oral culture and written culture coexisted in ancient Mesopotamia from the time of the invention of writing, as even the earliest texts from the late fourth millennium BCE reflect the intersection between indigenous knowledge (legends, scholarship) and prosaic recordkeeping and the development of particular documentation priorities. However, orality was always valued because relatively few people could read clay tablets, and texts were written to be read out loud. Additionally, the tradition of reading out loud and extemporizing continued to be widespread until very recently in many cultures, though oral traditions and practices continue to be valued within some religious communities up to this day, albeit within a canonized format (Kelber & Avery-Peck, 1992; Steinkeller, 2004; Civil, 1974). Consequently, a fixation on the privileged place of oral indigenous culture against colonizing effects of Western writing and other technologies misses the point that it is not just a question of suggesting that there is a privileged place for indigenous culture. The circumstances in which that culture is created and transmitted also needs to be interrogated. Male-dominated indigenous cultures can be as unconsciously intolerant and repressive as that found in so-called developed societies. Oral tradition should not be equated with unquestionable cultural truths. In fact, we have to guard against a “noble savage” (Belich, 2011, p. 6) syndrome that can result in erroneous imaginaries, with myopia to intolerance and repression contained in wisdom of the past (the secondary status of women is the most obvious dimension of many traditional societies). While the connection with a project in Bangladesh might seem remote from these points, it is not so distant a step away. Rural women in Bangladesh live in an enormously rich culture that has produced masterworks of world culture (e.g. Ranindranath Tagore’s songs and the Rabindra Sangeet are known by one and all), yet women have been subject to systematic economic

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  25

and social repression and exclusion for centuries, and this repression still continues (as it does in urban, middle-class contexts). Women’s informational liberation lies in working with their strong oral way of knowing as a community and their current literacies, in order to provide new ways of knowing and to help transform gender oppressive structures. All this enters into a new dimension in encountering information and communications technologies, but it is not without its challenges. Thus, women in a remote Hindu and Muslim village in Bangladesh can interpret pictures and labels to navigate tasks in seeding or marketing produce; can write on scraps of paper and then collect in notebooks lists of medicines and seeds and advice received via SMS; and can calculate on their smartphone— forms of literacy not sufficient enough to be able to read a novel, but enough to learn to put simple posts and photos on Facebook or navigate app icons. They are capable of sharing traditional knowledge and religious texts and songs orally (and can also share and listen to them on phone apps!). However, this has come via gaining the confidence of their husbands and relatives to participate in a project that breaks traditional cultural constraints. They are not in an imagined benign world of the village, but face the shocking realities of horrific second-class status—violence, early marriage, and an unforgiving environment, as depicted in Mallabarman’s (1995) classic ethnographic novel of Bengali village life. A more recent anthropological account of the anxieties over mobile phones in northern India has been detailed by Doron (2012). In the face of such challenges to developing a healthy informational and environmental ecology, they are equally capable—with a combination of their oral knowledge, traditional ways of doing, and modern technology—of adopting modern scientific terminology relating to animal husbandry within the context of the traditional, gendered environment in which they live. They can organize and write out in notebooks the important messages they have received, and this information and knowledge are shared orally with those who are not sufficiently literate, whether informally in the family courtyard or uthan, over the phone, or in a community meeting. Consequently, as Sillitoe (2006) suggests, “The mix of orality and literacy become a dynamic mix of past ‘tradition’ and present invention with a view to the future” (p. 4). Thus, there are different literacies and textualities to be dealt with (writing a note on paper, reading information off a medicine bottle, interpreting the text/visual/aural information from an app or Google search, or sharing high culture as in the songs of Tagore). All these are social resources that are pooled into their information ecology. From the point of view of what is known as new literacy studies, that has sought to problematize the notion of social literacy in international development, we can assume there

26  Larry Stillman, et al.

to be a variety of literacies in different contexts, no clear boundary between literate and illiterate, and a range of cognitive and social skills associated with orality and literacy. Everyone in society has some literacy difficulties in some contexts; where oral cultures can be the predominant means of communication, we need to think of a continuum of social practices that conceptualizes and investigates the relationship between language, literacy, and society differently (Street, 2013, p. 31). In summary, indigenous knowledge—primarily oral knowledge—should not be regarded as ideal or unchanging, despite the effects of colonization. History shows us that the interaction between orality and writing and documentation has contributed to the growth of both indigenous and external information and knowledge that contributes to social, psychological, and physical sustainability and resilience, even though we have become particularly aware of factors that inhibit access, such as gender, disability class, culture, religion, or caste (Steyn, 2011).

3.4 An Integrating Perspective: The Information Continuum The dynamics of working with the ecology of oral and other information in traditional communities can be viewed through what is called the Information Continuum Model. This conceptual framework has had considerable influence in information and archives thinking internationally, since its original conceptualization in the 1990s by researchers at Monash University in Australia (Upward, 2000; Upward & Stillman, 2006). The model drew upon the structuration theory of the British sociologist Anthony Giddens in interpreting the dynamic between human agency and social structure, including the idea that both were dependent on the reproduction of information and knowledge as part of everyday life, as well as on material resources such as food. This theory of information and knowledge reproduction has had a strong influence in information systems thinking, as well as in the library sciences (Giddens, 1984; Jones & Karsten, 2008). The Information Continuum Model analyzes how “information is represented, recalled and disseminated” (Upward, 2005, p. 95). It has also been adapted for generic community development (Schauder, Stillman, & Johanson, 2005) and heritage studies (Upward & Stillman, 2006). In this chapter, it is interpreted for the purpose of understanding the pluralization of information and knowledge in traditional collectivities. However, because of space limitations, we can only briefly note that traditional gendering and systems

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  27

of social control found in many developing countries must also be acknowledged as an important factor in determining the dynamics of the model (Rai, 2011). The main characteristics of the model are its four dimensions—Create, Capture, Organize, and Pluralize—that can be used to analyze how information objects of different sorts are manipulated in different ways by different stakeholders. In this case, as noted, the model is adapted for understanding the information and knowledge process in the traditional village environment and its relationship to other stakeholders and technologies like the mobile phone. However, it needs to be understood that the process of transmission is not one way, but recursive; the information and knowledge process goes backward and forward, in line with structuration theory. There is a relationship between the parts to the whole; the structures of communication also interact with what is produced—each informs the other. Of course, this model is an ideal. There can be any number of hindrances or constraints that result in things only working partially and sometimes not working at all. For example, a constraint could be cultural (a constrained woman’s world), or social-technical: Individuals in an NGO and the ICT designers might not always understand each other’s specialist needs adequately. In Figure  2.1, the Information Continuum is reconfigured as a Community–Pluralization Continuum. Information objects are created ­ though communicative actions (Dimension 1). These information objects are then captured in different systems to be kept as memory or documentation objects of different types based on the community’s social literacy that can later be drawn upon as a resource (Dimension 2). Memory or documentation objects are then organized within a system that activate or draw upon collective memory of an organization in environments such as the family or village association. This is done so that the documents can be accessed and used over time and space—for example, between different villages when conveyed in a phone call (Dimension 3), and then pluralized and embedded in the structures of a larger memory and action systems like that of an international NGO like Oxfam or in the world of university research (Dimension 4). As an example, the collective memory of a community about growing, harvesting, and processing techniques for a particular product, such as jute, is produced or reproduced through collective talk and action and perhaps through work songs (Dimension 1). Potentially, if the community desires it, aspects of this complex agricultural and technical process (which involves the cutting of plants, further soaking, drying, and weaving of fibers) could be transformed into written or other documentation, which represents an abstracted higher form of memory storage (Dimension 2). Recursively, this also influences how

28  Larry Stillman, et al.

Figure 2.1  Community–Pluralization Information Continuum

agriculture can be practiced back in the community and potentially, the app could educate many other farmers in a region about jute processing, made freely available via an app on Google Play (Dimensions 3–4). However, if the designers of the app fail to consider what information is important to the community, or provide incorrect or incomprehensible information, or design an unusual interface, or even produce an app that requires too much time online (which is expensive), then as a form of knowledge and information transmission the app fails (Brown & Mickelson, 2019). That is why such an Information Continuum needs to be two-way; information and knowledge that is ‘extracted’ for a product fails unless it is useful, and there needs to be a two-way ‘vector’ or recursive relationship. However, in line with Sillitoe’s (2006) observation that in fact there is a kind of meridian of interests and intersections at play, the model cannot be viewed in a unidimensional fashion. It also needs to be understood from the perspective of academic researchers and other parties, such as NGO workers and ICT developers, because they are also engaged in, are being influenced by, and are themselves influencing the form of the information and knowledge through their participation in the creation of an information ecology.

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  29

Academics should be able to engage in critical and emancipatory self-reflection about their own roles in the project, the project activity, and the theory frameworks within which they work (Krauss & Turpin, 2010).

3.5 The Double Hermeneutic Effect By introducing new concepts or practices about the use of oral and textual information and knowledge into the project, and in turn being influenced by what the village women provide as oral, textual, or user-feedback; researchers and others are engaged in what Giddens (1984) has called a “double hermeneutic” (p. 20). This idea has been very influential in the social sciences because it discusses the immutable connection between researchers (and others) and the ‘researched.’ The double hermeneutic consists of interconnected cycles of meaning in which the community’s “lay concepts” (Giddens, 1987 p.  71) are provided with higher level “metalanguages” (1984, p.  374), such as the language of social science, of systems design, or of international development in order to speak to particular expert communities. But this metalanguage entirely depends on its connection with the community’s own conceptual framework. Thus, a community provides its indigenous knowledge or expertise to researchers, who in turn interpret it in terms of their particular needs (for example, in designing an information system or an app interface). This can then be fed back into the community as a new way of doing things, or a new terminology. In the PROTIC project, we saw women with very basic education adopt expert language on a number of occasions—for example, talking about what the concept of a sustainable information network meant to them. Yet before the project, they had no such term or idea of what an information network was, or what it could be. Here, it originated directly from the project intervention, through mutual activity with the project workers and researchers. The recursive process of research, community development, and discussion with women produced new knowledge (Brogden, 2010). A double hermeneutic was at play. The women came to realize that a sustainable information network was something that was based upon shared knowledge among themselves. At the same time, the villagers’ interpretation of an information network modified what the researchers had come to believe was an appropriate model through their conscious self-reflection. In this particular case, they saw that their emphasis on an electronic network was incorrect, since the emphasis should have been on a model for a human-centric network, based on shared knowledge between women in their particular ecology.

30  Larry Stillman, et al.

4. Case Study: Literacy Research in Bangladesh Villages The case study here primarily investigates the dynamics around oral and textual information that has been used for learning in the PROTIC project. At the same time, we see how the researchers are influenced by what the women have done and understood. The episodes discussed here include a workshop and a visit to a village. Publications are being developed on this aspect of the project (Frings-Hessami, Oliver, Sarker, & Anwar, 2020).

4.1 Workshop: Digital Literacy The first workshop, in March 2019, was designed by one of the Australia-based authors. The aim was to investigate the nature of information literacy among the women. Further insight into cultural process, as well as facilitation, was provided by one of the co-authors who is of Bangladeshi origin with years of experience in village-based international development programming. This added to the double hermeneutic process because the women villagers’ ways of talking and being literate influenced the researchers, while at the same time, new ideas were brought back to the women to educate them about particular concepts and issues. The original plan was to conduct the workshop in one of the PROTIC villages, but because of a security alert, the workshop had to be conducted in Dhaka. The villagers had to travel for many hours by foot, boat, and then a long bus ride to Dhaka to get to the workshops from their geographically isolated village. They had to arrange for care for children and animals, and their husbands needed to consent to their presence. One side effect of the project is that even as women called their husbands and vice versa to check on each other, the women were also proud of this new freedom to travel. Participants were 12 women from two rural regions of Bangladesh and four facilitators (all Bengali speakers). The participants were randomly divided into four groups, and a Bengali facilitator was assigned to each group. At the conclusion of the workshop, the facilitators reported on activities to the non– Bengali-speaking researchers. PowerPoint slides with drawings and handouts were used to help ensure clarity and understanding. Participants were very lively, active, and engaged. Each activity was completed on a group basis rather than individually. The group approach compensated for the fact that some individuals could not read very well. People assisted each other, in line with the communal sense of being.

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  31

There was an interest in facilitating further access to information resources for agriculture and climate-related issues, and to link them with local government, NGOs, and the market. Looking at the issue in terms of the Information Continuum (Figure 2.1), local village information (in Dimension 1) could be used to inform and develop information resources for Dimension 2 (local government, NGO, or the market), and these information resources could also be fed back into the oral and local text culture (diaries, community charts, and diagrams) at the village level. Alternatively, Dimension  2 could feed into Dimension 3 (telcos, call centers) for the design of different information products such as apps or call center services that would be adopted by the community. While various activities were conducted, due to limitations of space, only a summary of two activities is presented. The first activity involved information mapping. Upon request, the male academic participant excused himself from this part of the discussion, as women’s health issues were discussed, even though he did not speak Bengali. The first activity was designed to understand women’s information needs and seeking methods. The facilitators reported that information mapping provided a new way of thinking about information for the women (again, the double hermeneutic at play). Their discussion explored interconnections and different types of information. The activity also illustrated the communal way of thinking. In assessing their information needs, participants included information related to health (especially for pregnant mothers and newborns), market, food and nutrition, literacy and education, legal matters, and employment for older children. However, it was known that none of the women at the workshop was pregnant. The fact that they mentioned pregnant women and babies, and other family issues, indicated that that they were thinking of a communal informational ecology. This information would ultimately become oral knowledge in the village setting. The second activity covered the basics of online safety. A short presentation was given to the whole group on basic privacy and safety protocols, including creating and managing passwords. This was followed by small group discussion. The facilitators reported that the women shared personal stories about sharing passwords. It appears that there is a general agreement that passwords need to be shared because the women feel that they might forget their password and that the smartphone account is project related, not personal. Consequently, passwords should also be shared with community development workers and with other family members. For these women, the importance of ensuring access to the smartphone overrides the view that the password is something personal or confidential that

32  Larry Stillman, et al.

needs to be kept private. Sharing the password with trusted others was seen as a logical measure of personal and group security in a communal environment. This interpretation of privacy and security—contrary to what is emphasized for cybersafety—is in line with the view that information and knowledge is to be shared with others, such as family and trusted community group members. The catch here is that women’s usage of the smartphones is often checked by husbands, and other male members of his family can inhibit usage. This cultural factor offers a challenge for the developers of security systems. The workshop also illustrated the collective nature of decision-making. Working in groups seemed to enhance participants’ capabilities in analyzing information. Often, when looking at information at a glance, one might jump to a quick conclusion, but having another person/team member provided a checking mechanism. However, group dynamics also showed that more important individuals in the community dominated decision-making, in accord with traditional customs. In this case, group decisions tended to favor those who were considered to be more knowledgeable (for example, if a person could read and write better than others), but oral communication with others was critical, whatever the medium. As well as this, cultural and emotional attachments to the source of information (for example, if a person was Hindu or Muslim) could color responses. In any case, knowledge and information are overwhelmingly fed back into the traditional common space found in the 1st dimension of the Information Continuum.

4.2 Second Workshop: Cybersafety A second workshop was then held in Dhaka in September 2019, focusing on cybersafety issues. It was designed based on what was learned from the first workshop. Improved access to online information and platforms, such as Facebook, had resulted in increasing cybersafety challenges to women. This has become a significant issue in Bangladesh in both rural and urban areas, and was also reflected in discussions and development of clear ethics and management protocols around these issues for Oxfam and the research team. The  workshop on cybersafety went into further detail about online safety, including privacy and surveillance, online security, and cyberbullying. The participants were in fact aware that cyberstalking was a phenomenon that was even present in isolated communities. The one-day workshop with 12 of the PROTIC participants from two different areas and four Bengali-speaking facilitators was conducted in Oxfam in Bangladesh’s main office. Once again,

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  33

the villagers from different parts of the country had to travel for many hours and make family-care arrangements. As with the first workshop, participants were also divided into groups and a facilitator was assigned for each group. The activities were designed as a series of group work, presentations, and individual sessions. A Bengali-speaking Ph.D. student assisted in contextualizing the workshop content and activities. Initially, abstract concepts related to online safety were difficult to explain, but when a facilitator asked them to compare online safety with the physical world, such as in the village, the women were better able to convey their perceptions. They talked about how their online activities are dictated by social norms within the community. Interestingly, in a society where personal behavior is being constantly monitored by others (houses are by and large just large rooms with verandas grouped around shared courtyards or uthan), the Internet is seen as a way to look for information without being monitored. Unfortunately, the women perceive no sense of potential danger, nor do they possess the ability to distinguish online fact from fiction. One participant explained, When we search anything on Internet, we don’t need to say anything to anyone. We can search those things as well which we do not talk about to others in the community, because we feel shy. (Research Participant) During the second session, a facilitator presented important issues around online security, particularly creating strong passwords and keeping passwords safe. This was followed by open questions and answers at the end of the session. The issue of password sharing with family was also discussed. Participants said that they liked the method that was presented to create strong passwords. Many participants had been using easy-to-guess phrases, their birth date, or personal names as passwords. The third session was a group brainstorming activity where participants were presented with several scenarios on online safety around privacy and digital trails. The scenario-based activity, which depicted likely events that participants could relate to well, prompted discussion within groups. It was evident that the way participants internalize information was influenced by their view of how women in their community should behave. An example was a scenario of a girl who accidentally posted on Facebook a group photo in which her sari was slipping. Some participants responded with a caution that the girl should be more careful, while others said they would feel sad for the girl for any potentially negative treatment she would experience.

34  Larry Stillman, et al.

The last session was designed to encourage women to tell stories about cyberbullying/online abuse they or others (who they know) have experienced or how they feel about it and their/others’ coping mechanisms. More than half of participants agreed to share their stories. The importance of face-toface oral discussion came across strongly in their narratives, as it conveyed intimate details that they would not have been willing to share in text or online. In fact, a similar sense of caution can be associated with their Facebook posts, where by and large, their shyness was revealed in the innocuous nature of the posts they made on the project page, as there were very few comments made on posts (though there were often likes). The women only posted things that were considered innocuous by them, matters such as agricultural advice or even photos of babies or young children that they have found on the Internet as an illustration for holiday greetings. This is very different from the highly social nature of communication that is characteristic of social media. Posting something about agriculture does not necessarily give to individuals the confidence needed to post something more personal (such as photos, as we saw previously). The women’s concern for reputation more than likely made them reluctant to post too much about themselves. This desire for privacy of self online—ironically coupled with interest in the world around them in a new online visually oriented culture—is an issue that needs much more careful research.

4.3 Village Visit: Notebooks and Sheets of Brown Paper After the first workshop, a follow-up field visit to one of the villages was conducted in April 2019, when the security situation improved. Two focus group discussions were held to explore and further investigate some of the research questions related to the information literacy and documentation practices of the participants. Fifteen of the most active women participants of PROTIC attended the focus group, and most brought their notebooks with them, as well as the sheets of brown paper they kept for their groups. These women were more literate and engaged more than most of the others in the project, but—as the data show—their textual literacy was also used to support oral information and knowledge in the community. The discussion focused on exploring the documentation practices of the PROTIC participants, including how they started their documentation practices, who initiated them, how they evolved over time, the types of information they usually documented, and their reflections on the process, its usefulness, and its challenges.

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  35

Significantly, women kept the notebooks as a non-digital backup to what they were receiving by SMS or from the call center. They also knew that smartphones could be unreliable; some had been broken or suffered damage from water or heat, solar chargers could be drained, or people could be out of phone credit. People also found that they or their family were accidentally deleting old SMS messages. From early 2017, the women started writing down the information they received from the call center and SMSs on loose pieces of paper. They then started to organize information by using notebooks instead of on bits of paper. They called the paper record ‘bhuleo muchbena,’ which means ‘not be erased mistakenly.’ They found this useful because they could easily get to the notebook to refresh their memories or pass on information to a family member, a neighbor, or someone else. Even if a notebook gets soaked with rain, once it dries out, it tends to be legible for many years to come. Using notebooks was also faster than contacting the call center that had limited operating hours or might be busy. Notebooks were instantly at hand. In addition to using their notebooks, the women also transcribed the SMS messages onto sheets of brown paper, sorted them by topic, and hung them in their community meeting places. This use of notebooks to record knowledge in a structured way, and sharing on brown paper sheets, was a clear innovation in the village. Others—PROTIC villagers and non-participant ­villagers—could read them, or they could be read out to people who could not read what was presented. From an ecological perspective, the development of an indigenous form of sustainable content was useful not only for the project participants but also for how researchers and others came to further understand, at the micro level, community understandings of information processes that could positively affect community capital, food security, and livelihoods. The big question for the future, beyond the life of the current project, is how the many subtle learnings of the project can be fed back into the development of local networks in a way that both takes advantage of local ways of doing and knowing and ICT through the continuing participation of villagers in the research process.

5. Conclusions The case studies permit us to draw a number of conclusions and observations about the relationship between oral and textual (including electronic cultures) activity, at least in one traditional and gendered village environment in Bangladesh. We explored this through an examination of a range of concepts associated with orality and literacy, as well as through the lens of the

36  Larry Stillman, et al.

Information Continuum, which we adapted to represent a recursive or double hermeneutic process of community activity (orality, action, various forms of literacy) to wider adaptation and pluralization as outlined in Figure 2.1. This occurs as follows. The primary form of communication and knowledge in the referenced village is via oral communication and community activity (agriculture, husbandry, child-rearing), expressed within a traditionally gendered culture with a variety of connected social literacies. This occurs in Dimension  1 of the Information Continuum. Even if a person can read or write to some degree and can use a phone, she will share relevant information via her own personal documentation (notebooks) or a kind of public bulletin board (brown paper posters) for her or others to read out to those who cannot read. In this regard, we see an ongoing relationship or recursion between the oral and written information, because one can lead to, and influence, the other activity. We have observed instances of information being shared publicly beyond self-interest because of the collective culture, for example, in the case of information for new mothers. Thus, organized information products can be something as simple as notebooks and brown paper posters. These represent Dimension 2 of the Information Continuum, where people capture information and knowledge with which they have come into contact. They classify and sort, also creating information products—in this case, the notebooks and brown paper posters. This was an independent innovation in the project. In fact, there is very little research literature available on the creation of such sustainable personal documents, “an aspect of life that is so common and so prevalent that it is almost invisible to us” (Trace, 2007, p. 148), yet one that can be overlooked easily. Here we have an example of it occurring in practice. We have also seen that although the PROTIC project directed much of its implementation activity toward system design and online information adoption and use (SMS, some advice apps, Facebook, searching or contacting the call center, the electronic Dimension 3 of the Information Continuum), the villagers have been much more selective and pragmatic in their approach. Consequently, they can use the smartphone for personal phone calls and connecting to other people, but at the village level, the preference appears to be for simple and sustainable information self-organized in a way that is meaningful for them. This is very important for any information campaign that can easily aim too high in its goals! As much as researchers and developers may be enamored of multipurpose aims, there is a clear message from this research: Start work where the community is comfortable and give the intervention time to gestate. Let the people become familiar with the technology in their own way, and support whatever emerges. In time, there will be innovation.

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  37

As for the pluralization Dimension 4 of the Information Continuum, this hardly enters into the lives of the villages. This, rather, is the domain of the NGOs and researchers as they seek to use the information and knowledge that they have gained as participants in the project (particularly derived from work in researching Information Continuum Dimensions 1–2) for their institutional purposes. However, we need to be conscious of what the Information Continuum does not tell us about the information ecology. The workshops show us that there is considerable naïveté among the women with whom we worked. These things are highly relevant to any activity with ICT with vulnerable populations. We also know from other work that the women do not have effective skills at judging the veracity of information. Furthermore, their activities are also constrained by social rules that limit women’s agency, and they are reluctant to develop a personal presence online. That itself is not necessarily a bad thing, but it can hinder access to information and relationships with people who have useful information. The great challenge is to develop education and practices with women that are sensitive to that context based in the intersection of their oral and text culture, values, and life experience that enable them to take advantage of the tremendous informational opportunities that now exist globally. Significantly, the concept and practice of cybersecurity is a difficult one for them. This leaves them exposed to all sorts of potential problems. But we also know that a strength that they have is a sense of community and sharing of information and knowledge they deem to be valuable. The women live within a particular societal ecology, and within this, they (and those who work with them) experience a particular information ecology in which, as was cited earlier, “the spotlight is not on technology, but on human activities that are served by technology” (Nardi & O’Day, 1999, p. 49). Overall, adopting a development perspective that does not privilege ICT outcomes over and above the community is not only important, but also imperative if it is to promote sustainable human, crop, and animal well-being (Steyn, 2011). Sensitivity to the dynamics of the community ecology on the ground, its data culture, and its relationship to others is critical for project success.

Issues in Brief As Street has written, we need to think of a continuum of social practices that conceptualizes and investigates the relationship between language, literacy, and society differently (Street, 2013). This is particularly the case when

38  Larry Stillman, et al.

developing a technology project that engages different forms of literacy at individual and community levels. This can also be compounded by the effects of gender, where cultural factors can serve to inhibit women’s engagement in innovation. In this case, innovation did occur, though of a sort that used a very simple but robust technology (the notebook), rather than the mobile phone. Consequently, members of a project or development team need to be very open to unexpected consequences, because what may be of most technological use to a community may not be what was expected, though it suits the social literacy needs of a community.

Key Messages •

• •

Information and knowledge are embedded in local culture and practices. Any innovation involving ICT needs to take account of the local “information ecology” and particularly the range of interactions and capacities for engaging in oral and text-based information and knowledge exchange. The preferred medium for information and knowledge is not necessarily the most sophisticated one. Communities can be quite innocent and vulnerable when it comes to their interaction with ICT. Important ethics and practice issues are raised that need to be considered in any project.

Reflection Questions • • •

In a development community, how would you go about assessing different forms of literacy? How would you identify the information ecology in a development project or community? Are frameworks like the Information Continuum useful in identifying informational processes and important social factors? How would you modify or redevelop such tools for adoption?

Notes 1. An account of the project, focusing on ‘success stories,’ has appeared in the Climate Tribune Supplement of the Dhaka Daily Tribune as “Bangladesh’s climate champions” (December 2019), available at https://tinyurl.com/u475xhv.

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  39 2. In this chapter, we use the terms ‘information’ and ‘knowledge’ interchangeably, though knowledge tends to be interpreted as having more of an applied sense: ‘information-in-use.’

References American Library Association. (2020). Information literacy—welcome to ALA’s literacy clearinghouse. Retrieved from https://literacy.ala.org/information-literacy/ Arens, A. M. J. (2011). Women, land and power in Bangladesh: Jhagrapur revisited. Dhaka: University Press Limited. Asaduzzaman, M. (2016). Climate change. In Ali Riaz & M. S. Rahman (Eds.), Routledge handbook of contemporary Bangladesh (pp. 440–458). London: Routledge. Belich, J. (2011). European ideas about Ma¯ori—Modern racial stereotypes. In Te Ara—the encyclopedia of New Zealand. Retrieved from https://teara.govt.nz/en/ european-ideas-about-maori/page-6 Bishop, R. (2005). Freeing ourselves from neo-colonial domination in research: A Kaupapa Mäori approach to creating knowledge. In N. K. Denzin  & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), The SAGE handbook of qualitative research (pp. 109–138). Thousand Oaks: Sage. Brogden, L. M. (2010). Double hermeneutic. In Encyclopedia of case study research. Retrieved from https://dx.doi.org/10.4135/9781412957397.n122 Brown, J. S., & Duguid, P. (2013). The social life of information—introduction: Tunneling ahead. First Monday. doi:10.5210/fm.v5i4.737 Brown, S.,  & Mickelson, A. (2019). Why some well-planned and community-based ICTD interventions fail. Information Technologies  & International Development, 15, 49–61. Bryceson, D., Manicom, L.,  & Kassam, Y. (2008). The methodology of the participatory research approach. In R. Tandon (Ed.), Participatory research: Revisiting the roots (pp. 178–193). New Delhi: Mosaic. Chae, Y-G. (2008). Development discourse. In W. Donsbach (Ed.), The international encyclopedia of communication. Retrieved from https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/ abs/10.1002/9781405186407.wbiecd027 Chen, H.-T. (2005). Theory-driven evaluation. In S. Mathison (Ed.), Encyclopedia of evaluation (pp. 416–420). Thousand Oaks: Sage. Christens, B., & Speer, P. W. (2006). Review essay: Tyranny/transformation: Power and paradox in participatory development. Qualitative Sozialforschung/Forum: Qualitative Social Research, 7(2). Retrieved from http://nbn-resolving.de/urn:nbn:de:0114-fqs0602223 Civil, M. (1974). Lexicography. In Sumerological studies in honor of Thorkild Jacobsen on his seventieth Birthday (pp. 123–157). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Doron, A. (2012). Mobile persons: Cell phones, gender and the self in North India. The Asia Pacific Journal of Anthropology, 13(5), 414–433. Escobar, A. (1995). Encountering development. In The making and unmaking of the third world. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Frings-Hessami, V., Oliver, G., Sarker, A., & Anwar, M. (2020). Documentation in a community informatics project: The creation and sharing of information by women in Bangladesh. Journal of Documentation, 76(2), 552–570.

40  Larry Stillman, et al. Giddens, A. (1984). The constitution of society : Outline of the theory of structuration. Berkeley: University of California Press. Giddens, A. (1987). Social theory and modern sociology. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Heeks, R. (2002). Information systems and developing countries: Failure, success, and local improvisations. The Information Society, 18(2), 101–112. Jones, M. R., & Karsten, H. (2008). Giddens’s structuration theory and information systems research. MIS Q, 32, 125–137. Kelber, W. H.,  & Avery-Peck, A. J. (1992). Oral tradition. In D. N. Freedman (Ed.), The Anchor Bible Dictionary (Vol. V, pp. 30–37). New York: Anchor Books. Ketelaar, E. (2005). Sharing: Collected memories in communities of records. Archives and Manuscripts, 33, 44–61. Kleine, D. (2014). Technologies of Choice. ICTs, Technologies, and the Capabilities Approach. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Krauss, K.,  & Turpin, M. (2010). Towards the emancipation of the ICT4D researcher: Reflecting on a case study in deep rural South Africa. ICT and Development—Research Voices from Africa. International federation for information processing (IFIP), Technical Commission 9—Relationship Between Computers and Society. Mallabarman, A. (1995). A river called Titash. Berkeley: University of California. Nardi, B., & O’Day, V. (1999). Information ecologies: Using technology with heart. Cambridge: MIT Press. Novak, J. (2008). Bangladesh. Reflections on the water. Dhaka: University Press Limited. Nussbaum, M. C. (2000). Women and human development—The capabilities approach. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ong, W. J. (1982). Orality and literacy : The technologizing of the word. London and New York: Methuen. Potts, K.,  & Brown, L. (2005). Becoming an anti-oppressive researcher. In L. Brown  & S. Strega (Eds.), Research as resistance: Critical, indigenous and anti-oppressive approaches (pp. 255–285). Toronto: Canadian Scholars’ Press/Women’s Press. Rai, S. M. (2011). Gender and development: Theoretical perspectives. In N. Visvanathan, L. Duggan, N. Wiegersma & L. Nisonoff (Eds.), The Women, gender and development reader (pp. 28–37). London: Zed Books. Sambasivan, N., Batool, A., Ahmed, N., Gaytán-Lugo, Sanely, L., et al. (2019). They don’t leave us alone anywhere we go”: Gender and digital abuse in South Asia. CHI Conference on human factors in computing systems proceedings (CHI 2019), May 4–9, Glasgow, Scotland, pp. 1–14. Sarrica, M., Stillman, L., Denison, T., Chakraborty, T., & Auvi, P. (2019). “What do others think?” An emic approach to participatory action research in Bangladesh. AI & Society, 34(3), 495–508. Schauder, D., Stillman, L., & Johanson, G. (2005). Sustaining and transforming a community network: The information continuum model and the case of VICNET. Journal of Community Informatics, 1(2). Retrieved from https://openjournals.uwaterloo.ca/index. php/JoCI/article/view/2045 Sen, A. K. (2001). Development as freedom. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sillitoe, P. (2006). Introduction: Indigenous knowledge in development. Anthropology in Action, 13(3), 1–12. Smith, L. T. (1999). Decolonizing methodologies: Research and indigenous peoples. London; New York: Zed Books.

Talk, Smartphones, Notebooks, Brown Paper  41 Steinkeller, P. (2004). Archival practices at Babylonia in the third millennium. In M. Brosius (Ed.), Ancient archives and archival traditions: Concepts of record-keeping in the ancient world (pp. 37–58). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Steyn, J. (2011). Paradigm shift required for ICT4D. In J. Steyn & G. Johanson (Eds.), ICTs and sustainable solutions for the digital divide: Theory and perspectives (pp. 19–44). Hershey, PA: IGI Global. Street, B. (2013). Social literacies: Critical approaches to literacy in development, ethnography and education. London: Routledge. Trace, C. B. (2007). Information creation and the notion of membership. Journal of Documentation, 63(1), 162–164. Tuhiwai-Smith, L. (2005). On tricky ground: Researching the native in the age of uncertainty. In Norman K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), The SAGE handbook of qualitative research (3rd ed., pp. 85–107). Thousand Oaks: Sage. Upward, F. (2000). Modelling the continuum as paradigm shift in recordkeeping and archiving processes, and beyond—a personal reflection. Records Management Journal, 10, 115–139. Upward, F. (2005). Continuum mechanics and memory banks. Multi-Polarity Archives and Manuscripts, 33(1), 84–109. Upward, F., & Stillman, L. (2006). Community informatics and the information processing continuum. In L. Stillman & G. Johanson (Eds.), Constructing and sharing memory: Community informatics, identity and empowerment (pp. 300–314). Prato, Italy: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Uttam, K. D. (2016). Agriculture and food security. In A. Riaz & M. S. Rahman (Eds.), Routledge handbook of contemporary Bangladesh (pp. 257–282). London: Routledge.

 he Impact of Technology T on a Multilingual World

3

Problems and Opportunities Andrew P. Wu, Sarah-Lee R. Gonsalves, and Daniel A. Wagner

1. Introduction At the moment of this writing, the COVID-19 pandemic continues to affect millions of children and families worldwide. Political bodies large and small are scrambling to adapt, economies local and global have been rendered unstable, and societies all around the world remain uncertain as to what is to come or how to move forward. The impacts of the pandemic on educational systems have been swift and substantial. International and local communities alike have made haste to impart sweeping changes, but all are still just beginning to understand, examine, and reimagine what might be likely or feasible in times to come. Among the many facing change, uncertainty, and hardship, minoritized populations are more susceptible to disturbance and turbulence than others. At a global scale, the pandemic has made even clearer the needs of impoverished and indigenous populations; concerns that were prominent before and have become even more severe and urgent now. As a community, even before the pandemic, the world has been growing ever more committed to building a more peaceful, prosperous, and just

The Impact of Technology  43

future for our planet and peoples. The 2015 adoption of the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development by all United Nations member states, for example, is proof of this. Among the Agenda’s 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) are the interrelated goals of Quality Education (SDG 4) and Reduced Inequalities (SDG 10) (cf. UNESCO, 2017). The Education 2030 Framework for Action and the 2020 Global Education Monitoring Report include a rights-based framing of education and the need for inclusive and equitable quality education for all (UNESCO, 2016a; UNESCO, 2020a). Moreover, specific attention to the role of indigenous languages in education systems also continues to be a point of emphasis with the designation of 2019 as the Year of Indigenous Languages and 2022–2032 as a Decade of Indigenous Languages (United Nations, 2018; UNESCO, 2020c). In these turbulent times, the need to communicate efficiently has been made especially prominent. The complex and dynamic intersections of technology and language, occurring at and among all levels of social organization, stand out as major factors that sometimes help but oftentimes hinder effective communication. These intersections impact education deeply; one example is how technology potentially gives access or creates obstacles to quality education for speakers of marginalized languages. It is the purpose of this chapter to discuss possible ways for researchers and practitioners to think about and act upon the dynamics of the intersections between technology and language.

2. ICT and Multilingualism Arguments related to how pervasive and indispensable technology has become for the ways in which we organize our lives have, for the most part, become self-evident. The International Telecommunications Union (ITU) (2018) reports that 51.2 percent of the world’s population has access to the Internet with a continuing upward trend in information and communications technologies (ICT) use and access. Additionally, almost all of the world’s population lives within range of a mobile-cellular network, but lack of skills required for ICT on the part of users remains an obstacle to Internet access. During the COVID-19 pandemic especially, remote/online learning has generally been a solution stakeholders have sought to bridge the gap of learning loss (UNESCO & McKinsey, 2020). We define multilingualism as the ability of individuals or groups to make use of more than one language. This ability affects many forms of

44  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

communication across all aspects of social structures. For some individuals and societies, multilingualism has rendered their societal stability and development more vulnerable. When socially dominant languages (such as English, Hindi, Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, Arabic) are beyond their reach, speakers of minority languages become undervalued, and inequities in both educational/economic opportunities and life outcomes are exacerbated. The legacy of European colonialism in promoting ideologies that devalue nonstandard, non-European languages has also played an important role in the current state of affairs. In a world of around 200 nations, societies have generally been multilingual, but among the world’s approximate number of 7,000 spoken languages, a mere handful represent half of the world’s population. If left unexamined and unchecked, hegemonic powers of politics and economies have a tendency to tilt away from plurality in favor of the few dominant language varieties. To borrow from Orwell (1945), all languages might be created equal, but some multilingualisms are more equal than others. Furthermore, modern advances in ICT delineate an unprecedented shift in human language use. On one hand, ICT developments have greatly reduced traditional time and space barriers to interpersonal communication, and the Internet has made an abundance of information more readily available to millions. On the other hand, ICT development in and of itself is not impartial to specific values, yet it is not ideologically neutral, either. It has been observed for almost three decades now that the ways and means in which ICT have permeated the world correspond with specific diffusions of the most dominant languages online, chief among them English (e.g. Tsuda, 1994). As of early 2020, the six official languages of the United Nations (Arabic, Chinese, English, French, Russian, and Spanish) all dominate the top ten languages used online, with English and Chinese alone accounting for almost half of the world’s Internet users (Internet World Stats, 2020). As ICT enhance the domination of specific languages, they also further embed the perspectives, ideas, knowledge, values, and biases communicated through such languages. It then becomes more and more difficult for users of less-dominant languages to have their values, knowledge, and cultural practices sustained without adjusting to more dominant languages.

2.1 Multilingualism and Language Planning and Policy To better conceptualize the intersections of how interlinking changes in multilingualism and technology can be addressed in specific educational contexts, we adopt here an ecological systems view. Ecological framings of human

The Impact of Technology  45

learning and development can be traced back to the work of Urie Bronfenbrenner, whose ecological systems model places the individual at the core of multiple layers of interpenetrating systems termed microsystems, mesosystems, exosystems, macrosystems, and chronosystems, based on the order of proximity to the individual, collectively evolving through sociohistorical time (Bronfenbrenner, 1977, 1994). Furthermore, conceptualizations of multilingualism through such ecological systems approaches may also be seen in the work of Haugen, in which he defined the study of the ecology of language as “the study of interactions between any given language and its [psychological and sociological] environment” (Haugen, 1971, p. 65). Haugen made clear the importance of considering fluid and dynamic language use in context (that is, language as process), in contrast to the cognitive-behavioral abstractions of language as static and decontextualizable (or language as pure system). To this end, Haugen argued for the framing of each language as multifaceted. Ecological framings of language, therefore, focus on users. This social, ecological framing of multilingualism also implies that languages are living and changing entities, continuously evolving in contact with one another (Haugen, 1971). Rooted in this ecological perspective to multilingualism, the field of language planning and policy (LPP) is concerned with how figures/bodies of authority plan and execute decisions regarding language for particular groups, and for what purposes. It also investigates the processes involved and subsequent results (Cooper, 1989). The three most common types of LPP (Wiley, 1996) are status planning (whereby languages are recognized and positioned), corpus planning (to govern and intervene in the use of specific forms), and acquisition planning (issues of education, maintenance, and revitalization). LPP is concerned with orientations to language, with the most common orientations viewing multilingualism in society as either a problem to define and solve, an inalienable right of particular subgroups to exercise and uphold, or a resource to harness and utilize (Ruiz, 1984). These orientations drive the various goals and actions of policy makers, whether they are political, economic, educational, or otherwise social (Hornberger, 2006). These orientations to language are reflected in the beliefs and attitudes individuals hold regarding specific languages and their users (Baker, 2006). In short, LPP is concerned with how social change happens through the framing and management of language issues by particular individuals and groups. More specifically, Ricento and Hornberger (1996) proposed the metaphor of a multilayered LPP onion to investigate the interlocking legislative/political

46  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

processes, states and supranational agencies, institutions, and practitioners that design, modify, interpret, and implement policies that affect language change. Later, Hornberger and Johnson (2007), working from the lens of ethnography, argued that by “slicing the onion” to examine different agents, levels, and processes of LPP within a linguistic ecology, all stakeholders would benefit from the prying open of “ideological and implementational spaces” between the layers (p. 511).

2.2 ICT for Education and Multilingualism Working also from an ecological perspective of human learning and development, Wagner (2014, 2018b) proposed a conceptual framework to examine information and communication technologies for education (ICT4E) projects. Wagner’s framework has four components—purposes, devices, endusers, and contexts—which combine to produce specific design solutions to address specific educational issues (Figure 3.1). The ICT4E model was proposed to be intentionally broad in order to sufficiently encompass the most prominent dimensions of ICT4E projects. At present, the ICT4E model broadly considers language issues as vital to understanding the context of a project. Here we further propose that issues of multilingualism can not only be understood as context, but further examined within each of the domains by borrowing some analytical concepts of LPP. In this way, the specific language issues associated with ICT4E purposes, devices, and end-users can be better understood. As ICT4E projects are both

Purposes

Design Solution Devices

End-Users

Context

Figure 3.1  ICT4E Framework Sources: Wagner (2014, 2018a, 2018b)

The Impact of Technology  47

language driven and often involve literacy goals, further use of LPP ideas offers insight into how technology is a double-edged sword. As previously mentioned, technology can be an impetus for either enhancing or decreasing multilingualism. On the one hand, ICT4E can play a role in language maintenance or revitalization; on the other hand, ICT4E can support the attrition of less-dominant languages. The considerations of LPP with ICT4E together compel us to consider the interactions of multilingualism and technology, the beliefs and attitudes that drive decisions, and the potentials and consequences of particular solutions and projects.

3. South Africa and Argentina: Comparing Two Case Examples To further highlight the importance of considering ICT4E and multilingualism, we illustrate how the present frameworks might be applied in two case examples (South Africa and Argentina), with a focus on how ICTassisted interventions can promote multilingual ecologies and indigenous languages. We focus specifically on indigenous languages as these languages and their speakers represent some of the most marginalized and undervalued in modern societies. Indigenous languages may be defined as those used by speakers in communities that are distinguishable from other sections of a nation by their social, cultural, and economic conditions, and whose speakers are descendants of populations that inhabited a region at the time of European conquest and colonialization (International Labor Organisation, 1989). It is estimated that approximately 5 percent of the world’s population is indigenous, representing some 370 million people (Clothey, 2015). Sparse and low-quality educational offerings in indigenous communities, as well as low rates of literacy, have continued to be cause for concern for many governments and local stakeholders around the world. Traditional educational policy, which sought to exclude these languages, has resulted in significant loss of indigenous language and culture and may have been a contributing factor in the poor educational achievement some have observed in indigenous communities (UNESCO, 2011). In the last three decades, the United Nations has called attention to the challenges faced by indigenous communities, such as the realization of their human rights, the protection of their land and environment, and the provision of access to education. Focusing specifically on language and the need to preserve and promote indigenous languages, particularly as an educational medium, 2019 was declared the Year of Indigenous Languages and it was recently

48  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

announced that 2022–2032 will be the Decade of Indigenous Languages (United Nations, 2018; UNESCO, 2020c). As previously noted, ICT may present an obstacle or an opportunity in the preservation of multilingual ecologies. In the case of indigenous languages, the incapability of popular software to produce characters for indigenous languages can be seen as one such obstacle. However, ICT may also empower indigenous communities and encourage the development of culturally responsive learning resources (UNESCO, 2011; Clothey, 2015; Wagner, Daswani, & Karnati, 2010). To ensure the success of ICT-assisted education projects in indigenous communities, Clothey (2015) posits that projects must be designed to address the specific needs of the population, and policies must provide "equitable access to ICT infrastructure, digital devices, and Internet connectivity as well as culturally appropriate digital resources” (p. 73). Asiedu (2012) further made a case for blending newer technology with older technology, such as radios, and outlined benefits this can have for the most marginalized, least educated in communities.

3.1 South Africa With approximately 25 languages spoken in the national territory, South Africa is one of the most linguistically diverse countries in sub-Saharan Africa. There also seems to be a very positive policy and legislative climate for the promotion and preservation of indigenous languages. Gumbi (2019) suggested that this is evident in the large variety of regional legislation promoting multilingualism: The Organisation of African Unity’s Language Plan of Action for Africa (1986), the Charter for the Promotion of African Languages (1996), and the 2000 Asmara Declaration. In post-apartheid South Africa, the right to basic education was recognized in the national constitution, and literacy improvement has been the goal of many educational initiatives for both youth and adult learners (Castillo  & Wagner, 2019). National legislation and language policies, such as the 1996 Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, the 1997 Language in Education Policy, and the 2003 National Language Policy Framework, have been used to frame these initiatives. The education clause in the post-apartheid Bill of Rights states that students have the right “to receive education in the official language or languages of their choice” (Makalela, 2005, p. 147). The National Language Policy Framework (Department of Arts and Culture 2003, p.  10) aims to promote “the equitable use of the 11 official languages,” foster better management of linguistic diversity, and develop local indigenous languages as

The Impact of Technology  49

a path to redress for their historical marginalization. The management of linguistic diversity with respect to literacy acquisition in basic education is especially important. In addition, a lack of opportunity to learn in home languages in early education is thought to contribute to disparities in achievement among linguistically diverse student populations (Castillo & Wagner, 2019; UNESCO, 2016b; World Bank, 2015). Educational attainment is inextricably tied to each student's ability to follow what is happening in the classroom, and the use of a medium of instruction that is different from the students’ home language complicates this process. A  complimentary Language in Education Policy introduced by the Department of Education encourages the use of students’ home language for teaching and learning with further advice to promote the acquisition of additional languages (Department of Arts and Culture, 2003). However, the dominance of English in almost all domains of society helps to perpetuate the belief among many parents that English-medium education is best since it is thought that early exposure to English will improve proficiency, which has implications for social mobility and further success in higher levels of education (Bamgbose, 2006). The potential and value of ICT for education has been championed by government and local education stakeholders, as well as the numerous NGOs in many sub-Saharan African countries, including South Africa. The South African 2003 White Paper on e-Education articulates the goal of making schools 21st century centers of quality learning and teaching by ensuring that every teacher, learner, and administrator at all education levels can “use ICTs confidently and creatively to help develop the skills and knowledge they need as lifelong learners to achieve personal goals and to be full participants in the global community by 2013” (Department of Education [South Africa], 2003, p. 17). Gumbi (2019) highlights the previously mentioned document as one of the main frameworks guiding the implementation of ICT initiatives in the local education system, but laments the unsustainability of ICT education projects and their ad hoc, unsystematic implementation. The opportunities for indigenous African languages afforded by ICT is also a subject of much discussion and research in the South African context. In a recent study by Castillo and Wagner (2019), it was found that primary school children who learned to read in an ICT-based intervention gained on average a half year of reading knowledge when compared with those without the intervention. Furthermore, it was found that learning in local indigenous languages helped children to learn to read in English. While more research is required, this type of research begins to lay important groundwork for supporting policies of

50  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

multilingualism, based on ICT, that have direct and positive impact on basic skills in South Africa. The Bridges for the Future Initiative in South Africa (Castillo & Wagner, 2019) employed an ICT-based approach toward strengthening early literacy instruction that takes into consideration local linguistic diversity and the development of culturally appropriate content. This South African project sought to complement the existing reading curriculum in schools in Limpopo province by providing content in English and three indigenous languages: Sepedi, Tshivenda, and Xitsonga (Castillo & Wagner, 2019). In the software program developed for this project, students were provided with self-paced lessons, where they could complete activities in the language of their choosing to strengthen literacy skills, such as phonemic awareness, grammar and reading, and comprehension skills. Results showed a strong relationship between the use of local language and the development of reading achievement both in the local (indigenous) languages and in English.

3.2 Argentina In the region of Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC), there are over 400 ethnic groups, with the largest indigenous populations living in Mexico, Bolivia, Guatemala, and Peru. While there are over 600 languages spoken in the region, Spanish, Portuguese, English, and French remain the dominant languages (UNESCO, 2020b). Historically, the colonial legacy in LAC has resulted in racial and linguistic discrimination, social and economic inequality, high rates of poverty, and low rates of educational achievement for many indigenous populations (Hernández  & Calcagno, 2003; UNESCO, 2020b). Particularly for those in rural, remote areas, it is estimated that 20 percent of economically disadvantaged students complete secondary school and only 20  percent have access to sufficient drinking water and proper sanitation (IDB, 2017, 2018). In recent decades, individual countries in the region have developed and implemented national iterations of bilingual intercultural education in an attempt to make the education system more inclusive to those who have been historically marginalized by geography, ethnicity, and language. In 2004, the National Bilingual and Intercultural Education Program [Programa Nacional de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe] was created in Argentina (Serrudo & Machaca, 2011, p. 13). The objectives of this project were to strengthen the processes of teaching and learning, teacher education, and the production of materials and development of education projects

The Impact of Technology  51

to specifically meet the needs of the indigenous population. In 2006, the National Education Law No. 26.206 established Bilingual Intercultural Education [Educación Intercultural Bilingüe (EIB)] as one of eight education modalities of the Argentinean education system, and it also made English language a compulsory subject in primary and secondary education (Porto, 2014; Serrudo & Machaca, 2011). In a recent study, it was found that students in rural and indigenous communities in Argentina do have some familiarity with ICT, however, ICT4E projects that have been previously implemented do not adequately address the inclusion of indigenous languages (Caldas  & García-Valcárcel MuñozRepiso, 2013). Additionally, these projects were implemented unsystematically by a wide variety of actors, and this has complicated efforts to track the availability of devices and Internet access in local schools. Between 2011 and 2012, the government program, Conectar Igualdad [Connecting Equality], aimed to address the digital divide, build a federal digital inclusion policy, and enhance public education through the distribution of laptops to all students and teachers in grades 10–12. However, Caldas and García-Valcárcel Muñoz-Repiso (2013) raised questions about the inadequacy of the program to address lack of access to Internet and to provide support and training for teachers for the integration of ICT and the curriculum, especially in the EIB modality. The Technology-Based Secondary Education initiative for rural Argentina is a collaborative project of the Argentinean government, the United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF), and other partners that aims to leverage ICT to increase access to a secondary education for remote rural areas that were not covered by previous ICT projects (Duro, 2016). The program focused primarily on the provinces of Chaco, Jujuy, Salta, and Misiones, where indigenous languages such as Aymara, Guarani, and Quechua are spoken. The Technology-Based Secondary Education program was designed as a cluster of satellite classrooms equipped with computers with a lead teacher located in urban headquarters. In this way, students would be able to attend school without leaving their communities and have access to a tutor (in some cases an indigenous teacher assistant) who can help to guide classes. An evaluation of the project revealed that between 2012 and 2016, 46 rural classrooms were set up across all four provinces and enrollment increased from 98 to 861. Additionally, decreased rates of grade repetition and increased rates of retention were recorded (López Ochoa, Rodriguez San Julian, & Izquierdo Carballo, 2016). However, most concerning was the finding that girls and indigenous students performed more poorly on these indicators than their male and non-indigenous counterparts.

52  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

4. Discussion The case examples of South Africa and Argentina and their implementational successes and limitations highlight how important it is to consider issues of multilingualism in addition to technology. By comparing and contrasting these case examples using the information and communication technologies for education (ICT4E) framework (Wagner, 2014, 2018a, 2018b), we can also see how language issues were considered. For the present discussion, we will juxtapose the ICT4E framework with language planning and policy (LPP) environments, stakeholders/agents, orientations/approaches to language, goals, and processes. Issues of multilingualism permeate every aspect of technological interventions, and through juxtaposition, we can see how integrating these ideas underscore what considerations and limitations are most vital for designing solutions in other contexts and for the future. The comparisons are summarized in Table 3.1. In The Bridges for the Future Initiative in South Africa, the ICT4E context and LPP environment suggest a multilingual indigenous language context within a National Language Policy Framework and a languagein-education policy that encourages the use of indigenous languages in the classroom. The ICT4E stakeholders and the LPP agents are the students and teachers involved. The orientations/approaches to language planning suggest a language as a resource framing for mother tongue/home languages to improve literacy skills and educational attainment for speakers of indigenous languages. The purpose of the ICT4E project was to support this by providing self-paced lessons in various languages. The specific ICT4E devices involved include computers in school computer labs that support the LPP process of transitional bilingual education. The specific goal of this program was to leverage ICT to reading acquisition in indigenous languages in the education system using a design solution that offered students the ability to select their language of choice for learning on computers. The integration of ICT4E and LPP allowed for a studentled complement to the traditional curriculum. Results showed an improvement in student literacy skills—specifically, mother tongue fluency and reading comprehension. This initiative may better support schools with high linguistic diversity where teachers are not fluent in the multiple languages spoken by students in the classrooms. As in the case of South Africa, the ICT4E context and LPP environment of the Argentina case suggest a multilingual indigenous language context; however, this time with a legislation and education policy with a bilingual intercultural education modality available at all education levels. The ICT4E

The Impact of Technology  53

Table 3.1  Brief Comparison Between South Africa and Argentina Cases

ICT4E Context and LPP Environment Stakeholders/ End-Users Approaches to Language

Purposes

Devices

Design Solutions

South Africa

Argentina

Multilingual indigenous language context

Multilingual indigenous language context

Students and teachers

Students, teachers, and tutors

Language-as-a-resource framing for mother tongue/home language education Improving literacy skills and educational attainment for speakers of indigenous languages, and English Classrooms and school computer labs; selfpaced lessons on computers with special multilingual software Leveraging ICT to promote indigenous language reading acquisition for marginalized populations

Language-as-a-resource and language-as-a-right framings for bilingual intercultural education Improving inclusivity and educational attainment for speakers of indigenous languages Computers and Internet connections between rural satellite schools and urban headquarters Leveraging ICT to promote/include indigenous languages in the education system to improve educational attainment for marginalized populations

stakeholders and LPP agents are the students and teachers in local schools. The orientations/approaches to language planning suggest a language as a resource framing for bilingual intercultural education modality (subject to availability of specialized tutors) to promote inclusive education and improve educational attainment for speakers of indigenous languages. The purpose of the ICT4E project was also to support this goal by providing multilingual, self-paced lessons. The specific ICT4E devices involved include rural satellite classrooms facilitated by tutors (at least one indigenous language speaker where applicable/available) in cluster schools with lead teachers in urban headquarters. The specific goal of this program has been the leveraging of ICT to promote/include indigenous languages in the education system to improve educational attainment for marginalized populations, and this has

54  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

been supported by a design solution that includes a tutor proficient in the bilingual modality. The integration of ICT4E and LPP has provided new ways for addressing the shortcomings of previous efforts that sought to increase access for students in remote rural educational contexts. The cases of South Africa and Argentina illustrate attempts to leverage ICT to promote indigenous languages and improve educational attainment for historically marginalized populations. Both contexts benefited from a positive ICT and language policy environment, where national legislation and language in education policy protected rights of indigenous language–­ speaking students to have access to educational support in their home language. Even so, a challenge for both projects is the uncertainty of consistent indigenous language support. In South Africa, the inclusion of the home language may only be available in transitional bilingual models, where it is expected that students will receive instruction in English or Afrikaans starting in grade four. In Argentina, the availability of tutors who can provide indigenous language support is encouraged, but not guaranteed. In light of the COVID-19 pandemic, a major ongoing issue has become the lack of access to school computer labs and other equipment while schools are closed. It has become apparent that regions of the world are massively unequal in readiness to the ICT-driven educational transitions that the pandemic has demanded (Guthrie, Tordoff, & Meisner, 2020; UNICEF, 2020). Close to 90 percent of high-income countries were prepared for the transition to remote learning, contrasted with about 25 percent in lowincome countries (Vegas, 2020). This may highlight the need to implement online and offline alternatives that allow students to use their own devices, where available, or that incorporate traditional media, such as radio and television. A recent report suggests that very few low-income contexts have Internet penetration rates above 50  percent, and while middle- and highincome countries have been able to blend online platforms, such as learning management systems, Web conferences, and traditional broadcast media to keep students learning during the ongoing pandemic, low-income contexts have depended heavily on the latter (World Bank, 2020). The urgency to find an educational response during the pandemic has also highlighted the importance of implementing sound ICT4E projects that can be easily tailored in ever-evolving circumstances. Some contexts lacked the necessary infrastructure to implement distance and online learning while others were challenged with the integration of the existing curriculum and a new modality and sufficiently supporting teachers so that they could effectively support students during times of extreme uncertainty. Utilizing localized, multilingual factors as the foundation for addressing community-identified

The Impact of Technology  55

education issues could be of benefit in further tailoring ICT4E projects to the new normal.

5. Conclusion The pandemic has highlighted and exacerbated social inequalities, yet it is also clear that our post-COVID world will become more and more digitized and technology driven (Wagner, Castillo,  & Zahra, 2020). New developments in ICT will undoubtedly play ever more complex and far-reaching roles in education and society more generally. The long-term impacts of ICT are unclear, yet it is certain that technology will continue to impact our multilingual world in various ways. ICT and multilingualism are both dynamic and increasingly interconnected—and by considering technology and multilingualism in tandem, and by developing technological solutions that consider specific language goals, curricula, and objectives for educational attainment, all stakeholders can better address the crucial and urgent gaps in equity between speakers of more minoritized languages and those who speak dominant languages. This, in turn, will help to offset some of the most negative effects of widespread ICT, which has the potential to further lead toward more economic and social equality overall. In the interconnected domains of language and (technological) power, it remains important to ensure that ICT solutions incorporate effective and continued support for multilingual stakeholders, many of whom live in marginalized contexts with major educational needs.

Issues in Brief In a world that is becoming more interconnected, and with more languages in contact, a major question remains as to how technological advances will impact education and society at large. In the current global COVID-19 pandemic, the use of information and communications technologies has accelerated with the need for remote learning in schools and commerce. This chapter compares the impact of technology on the expanded role of international languages and the alternative universe of trying to maintain local and indigenous languages in a world of change. Two frameworks are considered that help to explain how such countervailing perspectives can provide new ways for considering the impact of technology on multilingualism in the coming years.

56  Andrew P. Wu, et al.

Key Messages •

As we continue to ascertain and respond to the effects and aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, developments in ICT will undoubtedly play increasingly complex and far-reaching roles. It is imperative that we keep in mind how the potential of technology may overlook the intricacies and inequalities of multilingualism. Technology is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, ICT may strongly increase the use and spread of international languages (such as English) which may benefit globalization and repress local and indigenous languages at the detriment of local cultures; on the other hand, ICT provide means toward establishing the credibility and resources of local languages, which can lead to improved support for mother tongue education. Overall, the future for multilingualism remains strikingly unclear. • By developing technological solutions that consider specific language goals, curricula, and objectives for educational attainment, stakeholders can more readily address the crucial and urgent discrepancies within their control. • By comparing and contrasting contexts along the domains of the ICT4E framework, insights into how different initiatives, similar projects in different settings, or even the same project across time can produce better outcomes for marginalized children.

Reflection Questions •

•

•

Consider your own research/educational context of interest. How has multilingualism generally been viewed and addressed? Is it mostly viewed as a problem to define and solve, a resource to harness and utilize, or a right to exercise and uphold? How, in your view, does ICT narrow or widen the gaps between linguistically diverse users? What types of ideological/implementational spaces (physical, virtual, or abstracted) would you define or designate as most pertinent to understanding the challenges of multilingualism in your context? How would you imagine an ICT4E intervention impacting these spaces? Using the examples in the chapter, draw up your own brief comparison (real or imagined) across two related educational contexts or even one context pre- and post-intervention. What insights can be gleaned from this juxtaposition?

The Impact of Technology  57

Acknowledgments The authors would like to extend special thanks to Dr. Ian A. Lubin, editor of the current volume, for his keen editing eye and assiduous guidance throughout this process. We would also like to thank Dr. Nancy H. Hornberger at the University of Pennsylvania for her mentorship of the chapter's first two authors, and for her incisive advice on several aspects of the present chapter.

References Asiedu, C. (2012). Information communication technologies for gender and development in Africa: The case for radio and technological blending. The International Communication Gazette, 74(3), 240–257. Baker, C. (2006). Psycho-sociological analysis in language policy. In T. Ricento (Ed.), An introduction to language policy: Theory and method (pp. 210–28). Malden, MA: Blackwell. Bamgbose, A. (2006). A recurring decimal: English in language policy and planning. In The handbook of world Englishes. West Sussex, UK: John Wiley & Sons, Inc. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1977). Toward an experimental ecology of human development. American Psychologist, 32(7), 513. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1994). Ecological models of human development. In T. Husen  & T. N. Postlethwaite (Eds.), International Encyclopedia of Education (Vol. 3, 2nd ed.). Oxford: Elsevier. Caldas, F., & García-Valcárcel Muñoz-Repiso, A. (2013). The role of ICTs in rural schools of Patagonia. In F. J. García Peñalvo (Ed.), Multiculturalism in technology-based education: Case studies on ICT-supported approaches. Hershey, PA: IGI Global. Castillo, N. M.,  & Wagner, D. A. (2019). Early-grade reading support in rural South Africa: A  language-centered technology approach. International Review of Education, 65, 389–408. Clothey, R. A. (2015). ICT and indigenous education: Emerging challenges and potential solutions. In W. J. Jacob, S. Y. Cheng, & M. K. Porter (Eds.), Indigenous education: Language, culture and identity (pp. 63–76). London: Springer. Cooper, R. L. (1989). Language planning and social change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Department of Arts and Culture. (2003). National language policy framework. Retrieved from www.gov.za/documents/national-language-policy-framework-final-draft?gclid= EAIaIQobChMIxa-rl8Dz6gIVGrbICh0_4wnWEAAYASAAEgJFrPD_BwE. Department of Education (South Africa). (2003). Draft white paper on e-Education: Transforming learning and teaching through Information Communication Technologies (ICTs). Retrieved from www.gov.za/sites/default/files/gcis_document/201409/267341. pdf Duro. (2016). Making the right to secondary education possible: Technology-based rural schools in Argentina. Buenos Aires: UNICEF.

58  Andrew P. Wu, et al. Gumbi, P. (2019). On the inconspicuousness of indigenous African languages: The case of IsiZulu linguistic integration in KwaZulu-Natal’s basic education sector. Journal of Linguistics and Education Research, 1(1), 31–38. Guthrie, B. L., Tordoff, D. M., & Meisner, J. (2020). Summary of school re-opening models and implementation approaches during the COVID 19 pandemic. Global Health at University of Washington. Retrieved from www.doh.wa.gov/Portals/1/Documents/1600/ coronavirus/20200706-SchoolsSummary.pdf Haugen, E. (1971). The ecology of language. Linguistic Reporter, 13(1), 19–26. Hernández, I., & Calcagno, S. (2003). Indigenous peoples and the information society in Latin America and the Caribbean. Santiago de Chile: United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean. Hornberger, N. H. (2006). Frameworks and models in language policy and planning. In T. Ricento (Ed.), An introduction to language policy: Theory and method (pp. 24–41). Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. Hornberger, N. H., & Johnson, D. C. (2007). Slicing the onion ethnographically: Layers and spaces in multilingual language education policy and practice. TESOL Quarterly, 41(3), 509–532. Inter-American Development Bank (IDB). (2017). Did education improve in the last decade? CIMA Brief 1. Washington, DC: IDB. Inter-American Development Bank (IDB). (2018). How adequate and equitable is school infrastructure? CIMA Brief 3. Washington, DC: IDB. International Labor Organisation. (1989). Indigenous and tribal peoples convention. Geneva: International Labor Organization. International Telecommunications Union (ITU). (2018). Measuring the information society report volume 1. Geneva: International Telecommunications Union. Internet World Stats. (2020). Usage and population statistics. Retrieved from https://www. internetworldstats.com/stats7.htm López Ochoa, P., Rodríguez San Julián, E., & Izquierdo Carballo, J. (2016). Evaluación del programa escuelas secundarias en parajes Rurales mediadas por TIC: Informe final [Evaluation of the Technology based rural secondary schools program: Final report]. New York: UNICEF. Makalela, L. (2005). ‘We speak eleven tongues’: Reconstructing multilingualism in South Africa. In B. Brock-Utne  & R. K. Hopson (Eds.), Languages of instruction for African emancipation: Focus on postcolonial contexts and considerations. Cape Town: Mkuki na Nyota Publishers. Orwell, G. (1945). Animal farm. London: Secker and Warburg. Porto, M. (2014, January–March). The role and status of English in Spanish-speaking Argentina and its education system: Nationalism or Imperialism. SAGE Open, 1–14. Ricento, T. K., & Hornberger, N. H. (1996). Unpeeling the onion: Language planning and policy and the ELT professional. TESOL Quarterly, 30(3), 401–427. Ruiz, R. (1984). Orientations in language planning. NABE Journal, 8(2), 15–34. Serrudo, A.,  & Machaca, A. R. (2011). La modalidad de educación intercultural bilingüe en el sistema educativo argentino. [The intercultural bilingual education modality in the Argentinean education system]. Serie Documentos EIB no. 1/2011. [EIB documents series no.1/2011]. Buenos Aires: Ministerio de Educación de la Nación. Tsuda, Y. (1994). The diffusion of English: Its impact on culture and communication. Keio Communication Review, 16, 49–61.

The Impact of Technology  59 UNESCO. (2011). ICTs and Indigenous people. Policy brief. Paris: UNESCO. UNESCO. (2016a). Education 2030: Incheon declaration and framework for action for the implementation of sustainable development goal 4. Paris: UNESCO. UNESCO. (2016b). If you don’t understand, how can you learn? Monographs on fundamental education. Paris: UNESCO. UNESCO. (2017). UNESCO moving forward the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. Paris: UNESCO. UNESCO. (2020a). Global education monitoring report 2020: Inclusion and education: All means all. Paris: UNESCO. UNESCO. (2020b). The lifelong learning approach: Implications for education policy in Latin America and the Caribbean. Paris: UNESCO. UNESCO. (2020c). Upcoming decade of indigenous languages (2022–2032) to focus on Indigenous language users’ human rights. Retrieved from https://en.unesco.org/news/upcomingdecade-indigenous-languages-2022-2032-focus-indigenous-language-users-humanrights UNESCO & McKinsey. (2020). COVID-19 response—remote learning strategy: Remote learning strategy as a key element in ensuring continued learning. Paris: UNESCO. UNICEF. (2020). COVID-19: Are children able to continue learning during school closures? (p.  17). UNICEF. Retrieved from https://data.unicef.org/resources/ remote-learning-reachability-factsheet/ United Nations. (2018, December 17). Rights of indigenous peoples A/RE/73/156. New York: United Nations. Vegas, E. (2020). School closures, government responses, and learning inequality around the world during COVID-19. Center for Global Development. Retrieved from www.brookings. edu/research/school-closures-government-responses-and-learning-inequality-aroundthe-world-during-covid-19/ Wagner, D. A. (2014). Mobiles for reading: A landscape research review. Technical report. Washington, DC: USAID/JBS. Retrieved from https://allchildrenreading.org/resources/ mobiles-for-reading-a-landscape-research-review/ Wagner, D. A. (2018a). Learning as development: Rethinking international education in a changing world. New York: Routledge. Wagner, D. A. (2018b). Technology for education in low-income countries: Supporting the UN sustainable development goals. In I. Lubin (Ed.), ICT-supported innovations in small countries and developing regions: Perspectives and recommendations for international education. New York: Springer. Wagner, D. A., Castillo, N., & Zahra, F. T. (2020). UNESCO’s futures of education initiative: A background paper for the thematically cross-cutting section. In Global learning equity and education: Looking ahead. Paris: UNESCO. Wagner, D. A., Daswani, C. J., & Karnati, R. (2010). Technology and mother-tongue literacy in Southern India: Impact studies among young children and uut-of-school youth. Information Technology and International Development, 6(4), 23–43. Wiley, T. G. (1996). Language planning and language policy. In S. McKay & N. Hornberger (Eds.), Sociolinguistics and language teaching (pp. 103–147). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. World Bank. (2015). Mind, society, and behavior. World development report. Washington, DC: World Bank. Retrieved from www.worldbank.org/content/dam/Worldbank/Publica tions/WDR/WDR percent202015/WDR-2015-Full-Report.pdf

60  Andrew P. Wu, et al. World Bank. (2020). Remote learning and COVID-19: EdTech knowledge pack on remote learning response to covid-19 with special focus on LDCs and FCV. Retrieved from http:// pubdocs.worldbank.org/en/925611587160522864/KnoweldgePack-COVID19RemoteLearning-LowResource-EdTech

 Methodology for A Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework for Diverse Socioeconomic and Sector Contexts

4

David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law 1. Introduction Digital technologies can no longer be regarded as a neutral means of delivering information that is merely instrumental or functional (Buckingham, 2006). They have fundamentally changed how people access and elaborate knowledge (OECD, 2016). Their usage has been acknowledged as critical for personal fulfillment, employment, social inclusion, and citizenship (European Commission, 2018). Not using digital technology may exacerbate existing social inequalities that disadvantage people who lack the knowledge, skills, and disposition to use digital technology and who do not already benefit from the use of computers (Aesaert, van Braak, van Nijlen, & Vanderlinde, 2015). The use of digital technologies involves multiple literacies, and the concept of digital literacy (DL) has emerged to encompass them (Ala-Mutka, 2011). DL is a provisional concept (Martin, 2006). There is no unanimous understanding of DL ( Janssen et al., 2013). Nonetheless, scholars have proposed rigorous, timely definitions of DL. For example, Law, Woo, de la Torre, and Wong (2018) reviewed 11 definitions of DL from governments and

62  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

non-government agencies. They found definitions of DL comprise dimensions of competence areas, learning domains, modes, purposes, and tools. Synthesizing the existing definitions of DL, Law et al. (2018) proposed the following definition of DL: the ability to access, manage, understand, integrate, communicate, evaluate, and create information safely and appropriately through digital technologies for employment, decent jobs, and entrepreneurship. It includes competences that are variously referred to as computer literacy, ICT literacy, information literacy, and media literacy. (p. 6)

1.1 Digital Literacy Competences and Frameworks The importance of DL is demonstrated in major efforts to particularize DL so that it can be developed for education and assessment. A particular unit to emerge from policy papers is competence (Ilomaki, Paavola, Lakkala, & Kantosalo, 2016). A competence is broader than a skill, and refers to knowledge, skills, and attitudes for digital technology use (Ferrari, 2012; Blau & ShamirInbal, 2016). DL competences may compose a framework “to be discussed at a macrolevel of the average citizen acting in various areas of society” (Pettersson, 2018, p. 1006). A framework may be produced to develop DL education, proficiency levels, and assessments in a macro-level population—for instance, a nation may develop a DL framework for its citizens, a regional organization may develop a framework for its stakeholders, and an international commercial enterprise may produce a framework to be deployed across the world. However, a challenge to the deployment of a DL framework appears to be accounting for diverse contexts, because issues of equity, opportunities, constraints, and priorities invariably exist in a macro-level population, such that finding homogeneity is difficult (Ng, 2012).

1.2 An Ecological Perspective: Local Contexts of Digital Technology and Practice Learning occurs in different contexts around the world. Education researchers (Zhao & Frank, 2003; Law, Yuen, & Fox, 2011) have advanced an ecological perspective to conceptualize how different contexts influence learning.

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  63

Specifically, each learning context can be conceptualized as an ecology, or a system of parts and relationships for learning. For example, the parts involved in learning to use digital technologies may include stakeholder groups (e.g. teachers, students, parents, administrators), digital technology practices, types of technologies (e.g. desktop computers, mobile phones, laptops), and the physical and conceptual infrastructure (e.g. curricula, policies, assessments). The various parts interact and influence learning outcomes. Additionally, some parts and interactions may be more essential than others for learning. In this way, the essential parts and relationships compose a culture. Furthermore, since they exist in a system, each individual part necessarily sustains the others. A local context has its own culture and composes, alongside other local contexts, a macro-level population. An ecological perspective is useful to conceptualize the opportunities and challenges of developing digital literacy education. Reviews of DL frameworks and assessment instruments (Covello & Lei, 2010; Chetty et al., 2018; Law et  al., 2018) find that DL frameworks and assessment instruments have been adopted around the world, and they tend to have similar methods and intended audiences. A representative case is the commercial instrument ETS iCritical Thinking (Certiport, n.d.): It assesses DL competences through an hour-long online examination administered exclusively in the English language at authorized exam centers around the world. ETS claims that individuals, organizations (e.g. businesses, NGO workforce development organizations), and institutions (governments and secondary, post-secondary, and higher education environments) can use the instrument. However, from an ecological perspective, ETS’s claim presupposes an ideal context where people are proficient in English, familiar with high-stakes examinations, and are used to using desktop computers in their everyday digital technology practice, and that educational institutions are familiar with the use of standardized instruments for assessment. The context would also need supporting infrastructure, such as a reliable Internet connection, a stable electricity supply, and transportation infrastructure. Therefore, while ETS targets a global audience for DL development, the local contexts that can actually use the instrument may be limited. Specifically, economically developed rather than emerging contexts may be more suited to using this and similar instruments. In sum, within a macro-level population, we may find local contexts that are targeted for DL development but find qualitative differences in each context’s essential parts, such as in educational priorities, technology infrastructure, socioeconomic situation, and usage domain. As a result, a DL framework may be successfully deployed in one local context, but the deployment of the same framework could be compromised in another context because the

64  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

attempted deployment is not relevant to the alternate local context or culture. We argue that DL competences must be enacted with suitable practice for the local context (Pettersson, 2018). Specifically, we contend that the usability of a DL framework to design DL education is dependent on its suitability for promoting and sustaining the well-being and advancement of the digital technology usage context. In addition, the enactment of DL competences into realistic goals and concrete activities requires engagement from policy makers, local/international organizations, NGOs, educational institutions, etc. (van de Oudeweetering & Voogt, 2018), without which the deployment of a DL framework may lead to compromised results. The purpose of this chapter is to consider how a DL framework can be deployed for diverse socioeconomic and sector contexts so as not only to guide DL development, but also to promote ecological and cultural sustainability. We approach the enactment of a DL framework through an explicit methodology that emphasizes context-appropriate DL education, proficiency levels, and training. The methodology starts with identifying examples of digital technology usage. These examples may emphasize current (i.e. popular) and prospective technology usage in a given target context. By comparing the differences along these dimensions, the competences and proficiencies needed for adequate performance could be ascertained and one would be able to identify the DL aspects that need attention for developmental purposes. The chapter begins by introducing a project designed to produce a global framework of reference on digital literacy skills (GFDL). The current proposed methodology was derived from the project. The chapter reviews one of the GFDL project’s empirical studies that demonstrated the need for a practical and context-sensitive approach to guide the deployment of the GFDL. It then elaborates a Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology and illustrates it with a comparison of case examples of digital technology usage. The chapter finishes with a discussion of how the methodology can promote and sustain a local context’s digital technology and practice, and how it can empower community stakeholders to develop their local context’s digital technology and practice.

2. A Global Framework of Reference on Digital Literacy Skills for Indicator 4.4.2 High-income countries, regions, and enterprises have made essential contributions to digital literacy development, notably in the delivery of DL

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  65

frameworks. For example, Voogt and Roblin (2012) had identified eight wellknown 21st-century competence frameworks drawn from the European Union member states; high-income countries, such as Australia, Korea, Singapore, and the United States; large capitalization American enterprises; the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD); and the International Society for Technology in Education (ISTE). Similarly, the DigComp framework (Vuorikari, Punie, Carretero, & Van den Brande, 2016) was synthesized from 15 frameworks drawn from European Union member states and organizations; high-income countries, such as Israel and the United States; and UNESCO (Ferrari, 2012). At the same time, it is important to recognize the equitable contributions of lesser developed countries, regions, and enterprises to advance DL. This social equity dimension of DL is all the more important in view of the UN Sustainable Development Goal 4.4, ‘To substantially increase the number of youth and adults who have relevant skills, including technical and vocational skills, for employment, decent jobs and entrepreneurship,’ and its thematic indicator 4.4.2, ‘Percentage of youth/adults who have achieved at least a minimum proficiency in digital literacy skills.’ To facilitate widespread international collaboration, monitoring, and assessment of DL, the UNESCO Institute of Statistics Global Alliance to Monitor Learning commissioned a project to develop a global framework of reference on digital literacy skills. UNESCO published the completed GFDL in ‘A Global Framework of Reference on Digital Literacy Skills for Indicator 4.4.2’ (Law et al., 2018). As a global-level digital literacy framework, the GFDL draws on empirical input from a global distribution of parties. It is intended to be broadly applicable to different countries, regions, and enterprises over time. The GFDL project’s mixed methods design (Creswell, Plano Clark, Gutmann,  & Hanson, 2003), as well as four empirical studies, are explained in depth in the GFDL final report (Law et al., 2018). The first empirical study analyzed the extent to which existing, well-developed, and all-encompassing DL frameworks would be relevant for all countries and over time. It used DigComp 2.1 (Carretero, Vuorikari,  & Punie, 2017) as a base framework and extended it to include two additional competence areas. The second empirical study analyzed the extent to which the extended framework would be relevant for examples of digital technology usage in everyday contexts. The third empirical study was an in-depth consultation with DL experts from specific geographic regions to validate the extended framework. The fourth empirical study was an online consultation with a higher number of DL experts to arrive at the final GFDL. The following section focuses explicitly on the second study, which demonstrated the need for a practical and context-sensitive approach to guide the

66  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

deployment of the GFDL, and from which the current proposed methodology was derived.

3. The GFDL: Examples of Everyday Digital Technology Usage Based on our analysis of existing digital literacy frameworks, we have identified the following: 1) the absence of perspective from people’s everyday usage of digital technology, particularly from less developed countries and regions; and 2) the absence of relatively important DL competences based on economic development and other contextual factors. From an ecological perspective, this gap in knowledge about the digital technology culture and practice of local contexts could compromise DL framework deployment. Consequently, in our subsequent research, we approached production of the UNESCO global framework of reference on digital literacy skills from a practical standpoint, particularly to obtain perspective from developing countries and regions. We analyzed the extent to which the extended framework would be relevant for examples of digital technology usage in everyday contexts. Inspired by examples of digital technology usage for employment and learning found in DigComp 2.1, we collected authentic, everyday examples of digital technology usage. The examples were gathered using a snowball process involving systematic searches for news and media. We delineated examples by the non-European geographic regions designated for study by the UNESCO Institute of Statistics for the GFDL project (e.g. Asia, sub-Saharan Africa, Middle East and North Africa, Latin America) with a focus on lowand middle-income countries. Initial Google searches were made using the name of a geographic region, or the name of a low- or lower-middle–income country from that region, and the key words ‘digital technology use.’ We scanned search results for titles that named particular digital technologies or suggested the names of digital technologies in their contents—for instance, ‘how digital technology is changing farming in Africa.’ We intensively read content to identify examples of specific digital technologies being used in specific countries. Searches were also made on YouTube using the same key word procedures. We watched videos to identify names of countries and specific digital technologies being used in those countries. Subsequent Google and YouTube searches were made using the name of a geographic region, or the name of a low- or lower-middle–income country from that region, and the specific digital technologies being used in that region—for instance, ‘solar power Africa,’ ‘mobile money Africa,’ and ‘ride sharing Asia.’ From the

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  67

contents of these search results, we found 59 examples of specific enterprise digital technologies being used in 32 countries. Twenty-four of the countries are classified as low-income or lower-middle–income countries according to the World Bank national income classifications (The World Bank Group, 2017). During data collection, we identified four essential economic and/or employment sectors—agriculture, energy, finance, and transport—into which each usage example could be categorized. After a UNESCO conference held in March 2018, examples for an additional two sector categories, migration and empowerment of refugees were added. Note that examples of digital technology usage could be subsumed under more than one category. Twenty of the 59 usage examples were developed into cases for the study’s mapping exercise, which will be discussed further later. The 20 cases came from 14 countries and represent the complete spectrum of World Bank national income classifications. A case was limited to a person or a group of people using a branded digital technology in a way related to employment, decent jobs, and entrepreneurship. The examples were selected for case development based on the clarity and richness of information about the purposes and generic operational functions (e.g. turn on/off and charge the device, share location data, create a public profile) encompassed by each instance of digital technology usage. Enterprise websites, YouTube videos, and app stores were used for searches, as they can provide such details. Although we sought more than one data source from which to develop a case, and to find as much information as possible for mapping, methodological triangulation was a secondary consideration for case development. To map cases to the extended framework, we developed a coding scheme of generic operational functions found in the 20 cases. We mapped these generic functions to specific competences in the extended framework. Then we coded the types of functions found in each case. Our analysis identified differences in operational functions according to major economic sectors. Additionally, during data analysis, we found that all cases required use of either a mobile phone or a smartphone, and that there were differences in operational functions according to different digital technologies (e.g. mobile phone or smartphone). In addition, only 16 of the extended framework’s 22 competences were covered in the operational functions found in the cases, so that some DL competences are not immediately useful or necessary to everyday operations in a wide range of socioeconomic and sector contexts. In sum, the importance of specific competences, as well as users’ proficiency levels, appeared strongly differentiated based on category sector, digital technology, and infrastructure availability. Our findings were consistent

68  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

with the literature, which has shown that the immediate context and broader culture affect learners’ acquisition of digital literacy competences (Aesaert et al., 2015; Blau & Shamir-Inbal, 2016). From our findings, we concluded that a practical and context-sensitive approach is advisable to guide the deployment of the GFDL for the design of DL education, training, and assessment. From an ecological perspective, the study demonstrated that category sector, digital technology, and infrastructure appear to be essential parts of digital technology culture and practice, and should be promoted and sustained by any DL framework deployment.

4. The Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology for Context-Sensitive Advancement of DL The Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology was designed to guide development of context-sensitive DL education, training, and assessment. It was designed to guide the deployment of the UNESCO global framework of reference on digital literacy skills, although it can be applied to other DL frameworks. A  pathway is a progression of competences alongside accompanying changes to a local context. It describes levels of sophistication in technology usage moving from those that are necessary for competent performance in the existing target context to further competence areas and/or levels of performance needed to meet the needs of more sophisticated digital technology usage for the longer-term development of the context. The pathway mapping starts with targeting a local context for DL development. It is important to specify the local context’s culture of digital technology practice, such as a target stakeholder community and a particular economic sector, such as farming, and specific uses such as e-government applications that are promoted by the government. Example cases of digital technology usage should be developed. To build a case, evidence of the digital technology usage should be gathered. The evidence can include video, articles, interviews, direct observations, photos, etc. For each case, it is important to identify the purpose of the digital technology usage, the economic/employment sector role(s) involved, and the digital technology and the software applications involved. A  case may involve more than one technology type or economic/employment sector that shows how DL competences for employment, decent jobs, and entrepreneurship are closely linked with a set of interrelated sectors and technologies. Ensure that each case has a title.

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  69

Each case should be mapped to a framework of DL competences (e.g. GFDL) in a two-step process. First, each case should describe adequate performance for the digital technology usage in terms of the key operational functions that the user may need to perform; these include actions without involving other parties, interactions with other parties, and material/monetary transactions with others. Second, the DL competences required for each key operation should be identified. A context-sensitive approach to DL development should promote and sustain a culture of digital technology and practice. One example case of technology usage should describe a base scenario of the current, popular usage of digital technology in the target context; other cases should describe scenarios of prospective digital technology usage at a higher level of context development and technological sophistication. A pathway is formed by comparing example cases of digital technology usage to identify the difference in DL competence required for adequate performance between the popular case and the aspirational case(s). The inclusion of more than one case at a higher level of development and technological sophistication expands a pathway’s scope and specificity. Through our analyses, we have identified three possible progressions of DL competences due to different demands in a given target context: 1) increasing the proficiency level for acceptable performance within the same competence, where more sophisticated digital devices or software systems are used; 2) developing competences not found in less sophisticated digital technology tasks and developmental contexts; and 3) changing the relative importance of specific competences due to changes in application areas or technology advances.

4.1 Developing DL With a Pathway Mapping Methodology: An Example of Case Comparisons To illustrate the mapping methodology, this section presents an example that compares case examples of digital technology usage within a major economic sector. Each case contains rich information developed from an example of digital technology usage in a non-European geographic region. For the illustration mapping, we focus on developing regions that share the same major economic sector. We have selected the UNESCO global framework of reference on digital literacy skills as our framework. Table  4.1 compares three case examples of digital technology usage in agriculture. The cases in Table  4.1 are numbered to show the pathway of

Competence area

Software applications (if applicable) Competences

Adequate perfor mance level

Adequate perfor mance level

Ag ro Market Day

A smartphone with Inter net connectivity

Mobile phone with voice call and SMS capability

Not applicable

Far mer

Far mer

Far mer

Adequate perfor mance level

Arduino prog ram; USB plug; moisture sensors; wires and transmitters; power supply; (water) tank supply sensor; relay; clock; LCD display; laptop Arduino prog ram

Ag riculture

Ag riculture

Ag riculture

Economic area of case example Role(s) of the person(s) using the dig ital technolog y Dig ital technolog y used

3. A far mer makes a data-driven ir rigation system through Arduino

2. A far mer in Uganda conveniently buys and sells product through a smar tphone app

1. A far mer in India makes better far ming and trading decisions using a mobile phone service

Case example of digital technology usage

Table 4.1 A Comparison of Three Case Examples of Digital Technology Usage in Agriculture

70  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

0. Devices and software operations

0.2 Identifying software to operate digital technologies

0.1 Physical operations of digital devices

The far mer can input a subscriber identity module (SIM) card, charge his mobile phone and tur n it on; the far mer can carry his phone while work ing

The farmer can set up the smartphone ­operating system settings and is aware of Inter net connectivity

The farmer can input a SIM card, charge his smartphone and tur n it on; the far mer can carry his phone while work ing; the farmer knows how to take a picture with the smartphone camera

(Continued)

The far mer can properly power the system and read its setting on an LCD display, or on a laptop; the far mer can plug in Arduino into a powered laptop via USB; the far mer can place sensors at appropriate depth in soil and locations in field, and place watering devices at appropriate height and location

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework 71

1. Information and data literacy

The far mer is able to search for and download the Ag ro Market Day app from the Android store; the far mer can search for a particular product in the app and view listings; the far mer can also browse ag ricultural news and access prices from several markets The far mer can compare prices in different markets. A far mer can evaluate recommendations for where to buy genuine ag ricultural tools and inputs (herbicides, pesticides, fertilizers, etc.) and make purchase decisions The far mer can organize infor mation on multiple prices for multiple products in multiple marketplaces to buy and to sell

The farmer can receive four to five personalized SMS messages each day about weather, market prices and farming practices; the farmer can navigate the mobile phone interface to find relevant messages The far mer can compare prices in different markets and decide on a market to sell his product on a particular day

The far mer can organize and delete the SMS messages on the phone

1.1 Browsing, searching and filtering data, infor mation and digital content

1.3 Managing data, infor mation, and digital content

1.2 Evaluating data, infor mation and digital content

2. A far mer in Uganda conveniently buys and sells product through a smar tphone app

1. A far mer in India makes better far ming and trading decisions using a mobile phone service

Case example of digital technology usage

Table 4.1 (Continued)

The far mer can organize code so that others can read it and comprehend it; a far mer can keep track of times and dates of irrigation

The far mer can compare Arduino and clone specifications to determine which type to purchase

3. A far mer makes a data-driven ir rigation system through Arduino

72  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

2. Communication and collaboration

2.3 Engaging in citizenship through digital technologies 2.4 Collaborating through digital technologies 2.5 Netiquette 2.6 Managing digital identity

2.2 Sharing through digital technologies

2.1 Interacting through digital technologies

The far mer can call other far mers and show infor mation to other far mers A buyer can call a seller and arrange time, date, and location for transaction; the far mer with the smartphone can cooperate with the far mer without a smartphone and a buyer to transact A far mer with a smartphone can cooperate with a far mer without a smartphone to post produce advertisements on the app for the far mer without a smartphone

(Continued)

The far mer can reach out to the Arduino online community to lear n to prog ram and to troubleshoot prog rams, and to the Arduino far ming community to lear n appropriate ways to physically connect an irrigation system and prog ram it

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework 73

3. Digital content creation

3.2 Integrating and re-elaborating digital content 3.3 Copyright and licenses 3.4 Programming

3.1 Developing digital content

Case example of digital technology usage

Table 4.1 (Continued)

1. A far mer in India makes better far ming and trading decisions using a mobile phone service The far mer takes pictures of his product, and uploads that with price, location, and a phone number to the app

2. A far mer in Uganda conveniently buys and sells product through a smar tphone app

The far mer can define constants on the prog ramming interface, pins, the maximum dryness, and the water delay and water post-delay; the far mer can prog ram a loop to read sensor value, compare it, and to take action with water and delay if the soil is too dry; the far mer can reprog ram the system to irrigate based on time, or to irrigate based on fertilizer not water

3. A far mer makes a data-driven ir rigation system through Arduino

74 David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

4. Safety

4.3 Protecting health and well-being 4.4 Protecting the environment

4.2 Protecting personal data and privacy

4.1 Protecting devices

The far mer is able to register the app and log in with a phone number and password The far mer does not disclose password or sensitive information about himself or a fellow far mer

(Continued)

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework 75

5. Problem solving

5.3 Creatively using digital technologies

5.1 Solving technical problems 5.2 Identifying needs and technological responses

Case example of digital technology usage

Table 4.1 (Continued)

1. A farmer in India makes better farming and trading decisions using a mobile phone service

A farmer without a smartphone identifies the approach to cooperate with a farmer with a smartphone and Agro Market Day to post advertisements of the farmer’s product; a farmer decides on whether to post an advertisement for product or to go to a market based on prices at marketplaces

2. A farmer in Uganda conveniently buys and sells product through a smartphone app

The farmer can refer to sample code in Arduino to learn to program; the farmer can reach out to the Arduino online community to learn to program and to troubleshoot programs, and to Arduino farming community to learn appropriate ways to physically connect an irrigation system and to program it

3. A farmer makes a data-driven irrigation system through Arduino

76  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

Source: Reprinted from PATHWAY MAPPING METHODOLOGY, by Centre for Infor mation Technolog y in Education, retrieved from http://gaml.cite.hku. hk/pathway-mapping-methodolog y/ Copyright 2018 by Centre for Infor mation Technolog y in Education, Faculty of Education, University of Hong Kong

6. Careerrelated competences

5.4 Identifying digital competence gaps 5.5 Computational thinking 6.1 Operating specialized digital technologies for a par ticular field 6.2 Inter preting data, infor mation and digital content for a par ticular field

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework 77

78  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

competences and proficiency required for adequate performance in the common scenario of a farmer using digital technology to enhance productivity and profit. The first case scenario is representative of an existing target context: A  farmer in a developing country is able to make better farming and trading decisions using a mobile phone service that provides four to five text messages each day about short- and long-term weather forecasts, market prices of different produce, and effective farming practices. The farmer can sell his/her produce directly using the market information provided without going through the services of mediating agents, and can also customize preferences about which type of texts to receive. In the second case scenario, a farmer uses a smartphone app that connects buyers and sellers directly to decide on price, place, date, and time of delivery. The farmer takes pictures of his/her product and uploads that with price, location, and a phone number to the app. A buyer scrolls through the product listing in the application and can call the seller directly for the purchase of a particular product. The farmer can also post product advertisements in text format for fellow farmers, who do not have smartphones. In the third scenario, a farmer uses Internet of Things technology, such as moisture sensors and controlled watering equipment, to improve the farming productivity through constructing an automated watering system that can be remotely monitored and activated. We observe three progressions of DL competences in Table 4.1. We see an increasing proficiency level for adequate performance within the same competence, arising from the usage of more sophisticated digital technologies. For example, under Competence 0.1, which concerns the physical operations of digital technologies, the farmer in Case 1 needs to use a mobile phone, which may have fewer physical features and pairing possibilities with other digital devices than a smartphone that the farmer uses in Case 2. The use of the datadriven irrigation system in Case 3 requires the farmer’s organization and use of many device components. We also observe the need to develop new competences. For example, Case 1 does not require Competences 0.2 (basic knowledge of account management), 2.2 (sharing information on the Internet), and 5.2 (identifying needs and technological responses that are immediately useful). However, progression to Case 2 will require these competences. Finally, we observe how the immediate importance of specific competences may be less important because of fine-grain application and the sophistication of the technology usage. For example, in Case 2, since the application focus is to help the farmer make more efficient and profitable sales, Competence 3.1 (developing digital content) becomes an immediately important competence that is not necessarily important to Cases 1 and 3.

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  79

5. Implications for Community Stakeholders The Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology is a context-sensitive approach to guide digital literacy framework deployment for education, training, and assessment. This section returns to an ecological perspective and discusses how the methodology can promote and sustain existing and diverse contexts of digital technology culture and practice and empower community stakeholders to take responsibility for their unique context. First, the methodology is inclusive of diverse socioeconomic and sector contexts that are necessarily important for DL development, as well as ecological and cultural sustainability. From our research, we identified category sectors of agriculture, energy, finance, transport, migration, and empowerment of refugees, but we expect more category sectors to be identified and bolstered by DL development. For example, some category sectors may be prevalent in high-income countries and regions and others prevalent in developing countries and regions. At the same time, each community has its prevalent category sectors to promote and to sustain through DL development, while other category sectors may be marginal. Community stakeholders can gradually develop DL for a prospective or marginal sector by developing a pathway to prospective case scenarios involving more than one interrelated sector. In this way, for instance, while a sector such as agriculture may be immediately important for socioeconomic and DL development in some countries and regions, other countries and regions may only gradually emphasize that same sector for development. Second, the methodology is socially inclusive. Case examples of digital technology usage describe people’s different roles and the DL competences necessary for each role in the target context. In this way, developing cases enables the promotion and sustainability of essential roles found in the target context of digital technology culture and practice. Not only that, but it enables community stakeholders to discover roles or groups that are necessarily important to support DL development in the context but that would otherwise be overlooked in a traditional deployment of DL. For example, from the case examples of digital technology usage comparison presented in this chapter, farmers and traders play different, essential roles in agricultural development. Some African countries would definitely benefit if farmers and traders with mobile phones can effectively use the RML Farmer app and Trader app, respectively, with support from community knowledge workers in agriculture with smartphones. A  pathway of DL development integrating community knowledge worker support would be immediately meaningful and motivating for farmers and traders involved and bring tangible benefits. The social inclusion of

80  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

individuals, groups, and organizations for DL development may be especially important in developing regions and countries where there may be weak institutional support (e.g. government, schools, employers). The methodology facilitates the replication and spread of a popular digital technology usage in the target context. A case for the popular usage of digital technology objectively describes the popular usage in terms of key operations and DL competences, so that the replication value of the usage increases. For example, the usage of mobile phones with SMS capability for agriculture in India can become more widespread if stakeholders have a clearer and more specific understanding as to what mobile phone functions and DL competences are needed. The popular digital technology usage is sustained in the context because the pathway from the popular usage to the prospective usage occurs alongside a progression of DL competences, infrastructure changes, and other changes to context. It is to be expected that, for example, the transition from a farmer using a mobile phone to a farmer using a smartphone to a farmer building a selfirrigation system cannot be immediate, but instead will be gradual. Finally, the methodology facilitates community stakeholder engagement that bolsters ecological and cultural sustainability. Developing a DL pathway requires collaboration and decision-making among the different roles and other local stakeholders (e.g. individuals, communities, institutions, NGOs, national or international organizations) within a target context. Based on the illustrative agriculture pathway in this chapter, for example, the decisions and implications for an individual farmer are different from those of an NGO serving farmers to increase farmer productivity through technology usage, and different from those of policy makers in the Ministry of Agriculture. Necessarily, important collaboration may be hierarchical, such as between national agricultural ministries, NGOs, and individual farmers. Collaborations may also be multistage, such as between the many groups that serve farmers at different stages of the agricultural process from crop selection, to harvesting, to selling at the marketplace. We may also observe intra-level collaboration, such as NGOs that serve farmers in the same context working together: 1) to convince farmers that digital technology and DL are relevant to their everyday work; 2) to research existing practices and available digital technologies for case examples of digital technology usage; and 3) to develop the modes and media for training farmers.

6. Conclusion The purpose of this chapter was to address the challenge of digital literacy development for diverse socioeconomic and sector contexts, while promoting

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  81

ecological and cultural sustainability. We proposed the Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology by which a DL framework can be implemented to design DL education, training, and assessment. The methodology goes beyond existing approaches to DL framework deployment by adopting an ecological perspective and emphasizing: 1) the promotion and sustainability of a local context’s existing culture and practice of digital technology; and 2) community stakeholder collaboration to develop DL. Policy makers, local/international organizations, NGOs, educational institutions, etc., can benefit from a specific methodology to take full advantage of a DL framework, such as the UNESCO global framework of reference on digital literacy skills. The methodology should be especially useful for DL stakeholders from developing regions and countries that have not received as much methodological guidance in the development of DL as high-income countries, and whose contexts of digital technology culture and practice may be far more diverse than those in high-income countries. Therefore, for a DL pathway to be a coherent progression of competences useful for DL development of a local context, community stakeholders should first pay careful attention to the context’s essential parts, such as the qualities of infrastructure and digital technology available, as well as the target category sectors. It is worth noting limitations to the methodology’s development. First, English language data was used to compose case examples of digital technology usage, and the cases are of a particular breadth and depth. Particularly outside the Anglosphere, we expect the composition of case examples of digital technology usage would involve data of non-English languages. Likewise, the development of a DL pathway in a target context would require the translation of languages. In addition, the mapping of cases was without an interrater reliability protocol. Therefore, the research was not an attempt to precisely capture all different contexts and case scenarios. The example pathway in this report is but an illustration of the methodology. We do not know what pathways may be developed with all possible case examples of digital technology usage, job areas, and sectors. We expect the methodology can be realized with qualitative and quantitative data of digital technology usage of varying breadth and depth. We also expect that local stakeholders would collaborate to keep account of what functions of digital technology correspond to which DL competences and proficiency levels. It is also important to note other implications of the methodology’s current use. First, by using cases to develop a pathway, individual users may view a case example of digital technology usage as too particularistic or irrelevant, dismissing a case and not drawing salient analytical generalizations from the case to the user’s experience. Second, the methodology is clearly not

82  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law

conducive to traditional, one-size-fits-all DL assessment, such as high-stakes, desktop-based assessment, but that is not to say that traditional forms of DL assessment are not a meaningful approach to advance DL development in some contexts. Finally, while a DL pathway is a coherent progression of competences alongside changes to a target ecology, it may suffer looser interpretation of competences, as well as what is considered adequate performance for competences and other DL concepts as it is implemented through multistakeholder, hierarchical collaboration.

Issues in Brief • People around the world require digital literacy skills for education, employment, and entrepreneurship. Not having such skills may exacerbate existing inequalities among people. • Developing digital literacy skills around the world is challenging not least because people live at different levels of socioeconomic development and have different digital technology cultures and practices. Existing frameworks of digital literacy skills may not be appropriate for diverse contexts. • All digital literacy skills are not universally important for development. Some skills may be more important to develop than others in a local context, so skills should be prioritized for development. • A local context can drive its own development of digital literacy skills not least to promote and sustain its existing digital technology culture and practice, and to promote community collaboration.

Key Messages • • •

•

An ecological perspective conceptualizes a context as a system of parts and relationships for learning. The qualities of a local context will determine how learning is realized. A case example of digital technology usage developed for the Digital Literacy Developmental Pathway Mapping Methodology may articulate a local context scenario in terms of socioeconomic and/or other category sector(s), roles, digital technology and software, and operational functions and digital literacy competences. Digital literacy competences may progress in three ways, according to the changing target context.

Deploying a Digital Literacy Framework  83

Reflection Questions • • •

What is a popular digital technology usage that should be replicated and spread in your context? What is a prospective digital technology usage that could be gradually introduced in your context? What kinds of changes (e.g. in terms of roles, digital technology and software used, operational functions, competences, stakeholder collaboration, and supporting infrastructure) would be necessary to realize a prospective digital technology usage in your context?

Acknowledgements The authors wish to acknowledge that the research underpinning this chapter was funded under contract by the UNESCO Institute of Statistics, no. 4500343457.

References Aesaert, K., van Braak, J., van Nijlen, D., & Vanderlinde, R. (2015). Primary school pupils’ ICT competences: Extensive model and scale development. Computers & Education, 81, 326–344. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.compedu.2014.10.021 Ala-Mutka, K. (2011). Mapping digital competence: Towards a conceptual understanding. Retrieved from Spain: http://ipts.jrc.ec.europa.eu/publications/pub.cfm?id=4699 Blau, I., & Shamir-Inbal, T. (2016). Digital competences and long-term ICT integration in school culture: The perspective of elementary school leaders. Education and Information Technologies. doi:10.1007/s10639-015-9456-7 Buckingham, D. (2006). Defining digital literacy: What do young people need to know about digital media? Digital Kompetanse, 1, 263–276. Carretero, S., Vuorikari, R., & Punie, Y. (2017). DigComp 2.1: The Digital Competence Framework for Citizens With eight proficiency levels and examples of use. Retrieved from https:// ec.europa.eu/jrc/en/publication/eur-scientific-and-technical-research-reports/dig comp-21-digital-competence-framework-citizens-eight-proficiency-levels-and-exam ples-use Certiport. (n.d.). iCritical Thinking™ powered by ETS FAQ IC3 practice test frequently asked questions. Retrieved from www.certiport.com/portal/common/documentlibrary/ iCritical_Thinking-FAQ.pdf Chetty, K., Qigui, L., Gcora, N., Josie, J., Wenwei, L.,  & Fang, C. (2018). Bridging the digital divide: Measuring digital literacy. Economics: The Open-Access, Open-Assessment E-Journal, 12(2018–23), 1–20. doi:10.5018/economics-ejournal.ja.2018-23 Covello, S., & Lei, J. (2010). A review of digital literacy assessment instruments. Retrieved from www.academia.edu/7935447/A_Review_of_Digital_Literacy_Assessment_ Instruments

84  David James Woo and Nancy W. Y. Law Creswell, J. W., Plano Clark, V. L., Gutmann, M. L., & Hanson, W. E. (2003). Advanced mixed methods research designs. In A. Tashakkori & C. Teddlie (Eds.), Handbook of mixed methods in social and behavioral research (pp. 209–240). Thousand Oaks: Sage. European Commission. (2018). Proposal for a council recommendation on key competences for lifelong learning. (COM(2018) 24 final, 2018/0008(NLE), {SWD(2018) 14 final}). Brussels Retrieved from http://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN/TXT/HTML/?uri= CELEX:52018DC0024&rid=2 Ferrari, A. (2012). Digital competence in practice: An analysis of frameworks. Retrieved from Spain: ftp://ftp.jrc.es/pub/EURdoc/JRC68116.pdf Ilomaki, L., Paavola, S., Lakkala, M.,  & Kantosalo, A. (2016). Digital competence—an emergent boundary concept for policy and educational research. Education and Information Technologies (21), 655–679. doi:10.1007/s10639-014-9346-4 Janssen, J., Stoyanov, S., Ferrari, A., Punie, Y., Pannekeet, K., & Sloep, P. (2013). Experts’ views on digital competence: Commonalities and differences. Computers & Education, 68, 473–481. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.compedu.2013.06.008 Law, N., Woo, D., de la Torre, J.,  & Wong, G. (2018). A global framework of reference on digital literacy skills for indicator 4.4.2. Canada. Retrieved from http://uis.unesco.org/ sites/default/files/documents/ip51-global-framework-reference-digital-literacy-skills2018-en.pdf Law, N., Yuen, A.,  & Fox, R. (2011). Educational innovations beyond technology: Nurturing leadership and establishing learning organizations. New York: Springer. Martin, A. (2006). A European framework for digital literacy. Nordic Journal of Digital Literacy, 1(2). Ng, W. (2012). Can we teach digital natives digital literacy? Computers & Education, 59(3), 1065–1078. OECD. (2016). Working party on measurement and analysis of the digital economy: Skills for a digital world: Background paper for ministerial panel 4.2 (DSTI/ICCP/IIS (2015)10/FINAL). Retrieved from oecd.org Pettersson, F. (2018). On the issues of digital competence in educational contexts—a review of literature. Education and Information Technologies, 23, 1005–1021. van de Oudeweetering, K., & Voogt, J. (2018). Teachers’ conceptualization and enactment of twenty-first century competences: Exploring dimensions for new curricula. The Curriculum Journal, 29(1), 116–133. doi:10.1080/09585176.2017.1369136 Voogt, J., & Roblin, N. P. (2012). A comparative analysis of international frameworks for 21st century competences: Implications for national curriculum policies. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 44(3), 299–321. doi:10.1080/00220272.2012.668938 Vuorikari, R., Punie, Y., Carretero, S., & Van den Brande, L. (2016). DigComp 2.0: The digital competence framework for citizens update phase 1: The conceptual reference model. Retrieved from https://ec.europa.eu/jrc/en/digcomp/digital-competence-framework The World Bank Group. (2017). World bank country and lending groups. Data. Retrieved from https://datahelpdesk.worldbank.org/knowledgebase/articles/906519-world-bankcountry-and-lending-groups Zhao, Y.,  & Frank, K. A. (2003). Factors affecting technology uses in schools: An ecological perspective. American Educational Research Journal, 40(4), 807–840. doi:10.3102/ 00028312040004807

Part II

Promoting Cultural Information and Knowledge

Making Culture Visible

5

A Primer for Culturally Grounded Design Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

1. Introduction Instructional design (ID) has moved well beyond traditional applications in laboratory-type settings for contexts such as K–12 classrooms, higher education, military, medical, corporate, and business training (Dick & Carey, 1978; Smith & Ragan, 1999; Reiser, 2012; Spector, 2012). Contemporary ID underpins a variety of approaches for applying information and communication technologies (ICT) to novel and more diverse global learning contexts, and this is generally celebrated. In fact, the discourse of applying technology to support learning and development is so pervasive that to argue against it is to invite the criticism of being anti-progress. Thus, as we in the developed world advocate for global economic transformation through ICT, the rest of the world asks, “How can we afford to let ourselves be left behind?” In light of and perhaps because of our educational technology advocacy, we raise questions about how to translate and implement ICT4L designs into contexts for which they were not originally intended. We see this as essentially a problem of culture, as all technologies and tools emerge from culture. Information and communication technologies are agentive cultural

88  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

artifacts. When we apply them for specific purposes and in specific contexts, we effectively export the cultural values that are embedded in these tools (Feenberg, 1991, 1995, 1999; Buckingham, 2007). Thus, for example, when ICT becomes ICT for learning (ICT4L), this problem of the imposition of cultural values must not be ignored. Unfortunately, far too often in our rush to offer learning solutions to the world, we overlook the very ways that humans make sense of their world. Veritably, we see the world and make meaning in cultural ways. One way of seeing the world is through our Western rationality and scientism, which arguably can be thought of as our local knowledge that is the product of our given context expressing our set of values (Latour, 1987). Our modernistic emphasis on predictability, efficiency, and cultural and ecological reductionism is partially responsible for our uncritical imposition of ICT4L innovations into contexts they were not intended (Ritzer, 2000). This approach must be called into question. Culture must never be treated as irrelevant or invisible by the instructional designer. Instead, our goal must be to make culture visible. To leave culture invisible—as too often occurs when we make use of rational, modernistic tools—is a moral failure and may result in an unintentional retreat to cultural imperialism. Cultural criticisms of instructional design are not new (Thomas, Mitchell, & Joseph, 2002; Young, 2009, 2014). They point toward the inability or failure of traditional instructional designers to see into the additional dimensions of learning that correspond to everyday human activity in context. We further argue for ID to reconsider ecological perspectives (Bateson, 1972; Lemke, 2002) that allow the closer examination of not merely the content of learning, but also the personal and social relationships bound by historical, temporal, and cultural human activity. When intentionally seeing through an ecological lens, culture becomes visible as those for whom we design are then able to inform our values and provide inspiration. ICT4L practitioners who fail to recognize the central role that culture plays in how we make sense of the world inevitably take on the role of the cultural imperialist. We argue that as technology itself is not neutral, but rather, as it is agentive and carries with it a set of inextricably interwoven values and assumptions, the person who uses technology for the purpose of instruction, who approaches the notion with a sense of agnosticism or ambivalence, is making the profound choice to make culture invisible. When this happens, the cultural proclivities of the instructional designer, the learners, local stakeholders, and indeed the technologies themselves are rendered mute. But we see this as a choice. It is not necessary for us to render culture invisible.

Making Culture Visible  89

When applied to ICT4L, instructional design work, knowingly or unwittingly, is shaped by global forces that are adept at homogenization. By viewing the application of ICT4L through an ecological framework, we are allowed to recognize local actors and their complex relationships. This may allow local communities to interrogate globalizing processes and to interrupt the active cultural colonization that comes with the application of modernistic, agentive technologies (Dusek, 2006). It is our hope that the instructional designer who uses ICT4L can learn to centralize and prioritize the notion of culture in the systemic design of instruction and avoid being a force for cultural destruction. The instructional designer must never become a destructional designer. Here we will use this term destructional metaphorically to interrogate and reflect upon our work as designers of instruction in different global contexts. These contexts we see as essentially cultural and caught up in the morass of Western modernism, neoliberalism, technological instrumentalism, and a pervasive pessimistic nihilism. However, we do not view this condition as inevitable. The goal of new work like this is to foster reflection for mutually affirming learning processes and knowledge creation that is culturally centered, as well as compassionate and ultimately optimistic.

1.1 Invisible Man Writing about culture is like writing about time and space. It is so all-encompassing, so expansive, that it is hardly possible to point to it and describe it. Even worse, the notion of culture is inextricably tied up in the problem of status. To talk about culture is to talk about privilege, domination, exploitation, and injury both present and past, and both apparent and concealed. Yet the very way that we think is cultural. Heidegger (1977) struggled to get across his idea that to even refer to how something is in the world is to talk about how it is pre-framed and thrown into the world and upon our consciousness in a certain way. The simple and inescapable referring to a thing makes the thing. Moreover, the thing is made in a cultural way. In a word, there is nothing that is not experienced in a cultural way. Obviously, that is not a very helpful notion. To say that something is everywhere (e.g. culture) is to say that it is nowhere in particular. To say that it is not possible to exist without that something is to say that the thing is so obvious that it barely merits a mention. But culture does matter! Rogoff (1990) argued that all cognitive activity occurs in cultural contexts. She asserted,

90  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

It is essential to view the cognitive activities of the individuals within the cultural context in which their thinking is embedded. The human heritage is notable for the cultural legacy of values and skills, which each new individual inherits from near and distant ancestors and practices with the assistance of caregivers and the companionship of peers. (p. 42) Culture structures a “system of assumptions” (Rogoff, 1990, p. 43). It is at the heart of what people consider to be important. It structures the priorities of both individual lives and of communities. Political systems and communities of practice are all grounded in culture. Learning, the contexts in which learning takes place, and therefore design are also grounded in culture. Information and communications technology for learning (ICT4L) is no exception. It is essentially a cultural activity. Nevertheless, to say that culture matters is an admission that to not see it or to refuse to see it is a problem tantamount to a turning away from culture. It is rendering culture invisible. Ralph Ellison articulated this problem eloquently when he noted that the main character in his novel Invisible Man was invisible because people refuse to see him. I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I  am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or figments of their imagination— indeed, everything and anything except me. (Ellison, 1995, p. 3) It was an imposed invisibility that drained away his humanity. It was a violent and malignant invisibility that slowly and imperceptibly drove him mad (Ellison, 1995). When culture is made invisible, there is a violence taking place. As we will see, however, there is also a violence that takes place when we make it visible. This must not be taken as an unavoidable dilemma or a problem that forever eludes a solution. Instead, we must strive to make culture visible and see culture in ways that do not do violence.

Making Culture Visible  91

1.2 The Violence of Learning: Culture, Ecology, and the Destructional Designer Education is often talked about in terms that imbue it with a sense of lifegiving mission. Teachers are said to be called to the profession. The profession is generally feminized, especially in the younger years. Love is said to be so important in the field of education—‘I love my students.’ Training and instruction, however, are spoken of in very different terms. If you are trained, then the right attitudes, performance, and actions are expected. Learning involves the development of habits of mind and habitual actions. One learns to think and behave in a specific way and to fail to behave in this way is an indicator that something has not been learned properly and that there is a problem. One conception of culture is that it represents a collection of ways of thinking and behaving in accordance with norms in a given ecology (Geertz, 1973). In this view, learning is the deliberate extinguishing of particular ways of thinking and being in the world in favor of its new matrix. Leonard Nimoy stated this phrase coldly, as Mr. Spock, in the 1982 film, Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (Meyer, 1982). The primary characters, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy were discussing the effects of ‘Genesis,’ a new fictional technology with the power to terraform an entire planet. The terraforming device, if used on a planet that already supported life, would destroy such life and replace it utterly ‘in favor of its new matrix.’ In this way, the device was not simply a terraforming tool but could be used as a powerful weapon. This was not a moral consideration, but instead one that was steeped in historical precedent as ‘it has always been easier to destroy life than to create it,’ explained Spock (Meyer, 1982). The metaphorical new matrix described here corresponds to our use of culture in the learning ecosystem and in the systemic design of instruction. Instruction, thus, is a sort of violence against a culture in support of another. The values we embed into our technological innovations have been used to supplant existing cultural life. The field of instructional design has either rendered culture invisible or has been used to build understandings of cultures so as to design for them. A cultural lens allows us to also see the violence done by the cultural recreator or the destructional designer. Destructional design is a way of thinking about how learning environments and tools are developed to (intentionally or inadvertently) dismantle and replace a culture. How is the systematic design of destruction accomplished? There is a powerful example in the American experience with indigenous education.

92  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

1.3 The Work of the Destructional Designer In 1892, US Army Capt. Richard H. Pratt gave his now infamous speech (Pratt, 1892; Churchill, 2004). In his speech, he emphasized that it is wrong to exterminate native peoples who stood in the way of American manifest destiny. He described the Indian (sic) as being fully human and fully capable of becoming American (a rather liberal notion at the time). He thought that it was a great tragedy to have to fight wars against the native peoples. He was, after all, a soldier and an instrument of empire. But, he was a liberal soldier and he thought a lot about culture and race. He proclaimed, “all the Indian there [that] is in the race should be dead. Kill the Indian in him, and save the man” (Pratt, 1892, p. 46). However, the speech was not particularly focused on culture or race. It turned out to be primarily about public education for native peoples. It was the designing and implementing of curricular instruments of empire that were the order of the day. It was about public education in America, and it was given by this soldier some years earlier on the occasion of the establishment of a school. In 1879, Pratt established the Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. It was a non-reservation boarding school for Native American children and some adults. The work was considered enlightened at the time. In fact, Pratt’s mission was to bring civilization to the ‘savage’ and to prove that racism, a term he actually coined, was wrong. Pratt was so firm in his convictions that he was dismissed from his position as superintendent of the Carlisle School in 1904. On the project of Indian education he opined, Indian schools are just as well calculated to keep the Indians intact as Indians as Catholic schools are to keep the Catholics intact. Under our principles we have established the public school system, where people of all races may become unified in every way, and loyal to the government; but we do not gather the people of one nation into schools by themselves, and the people of another nation into schools by themselves, but we invite the youth of all peoples into all schools. We shall not succeed in Americanizing the Indian unless we take him in in exactly the same way. (Pratt, 1892, p. 54) Tragically and outrageously, native peoples were not only subject to the professional education work of destructional design, they were also put into

Making Culture Visible  93

permanent prisons established by our heroic President Ulysses S. Grant’s Attorney General. Pratt was put in charge of these permanent prisoners at Fort Hood in Florida. In many respects, Pratt (1892) was prodigious and prophetic when in the Kill the Indian speech he also stated, It is a sad day for the Indians when they fall under the assaults of our troops, as in the Piegan massacre, the massacre of Old Black Kettle and his Cheyennes at what is termed “the battle of the Washita,” and hundreds of other like places in the history of our dealings with them; but a far sadder day is it for them when they fall under the baneful influences of a treaty agreement with the United States whereby they are to receive large annuities, and to be protected on reservations, and held apart from all association with the best of our civilization. The destruction is not so speedy, but it is far more general. (p. 49) Sadly, things have hardly changed. Indeed, they are arguably worse now than ever. Among people 18–24, Native Americans have the highest rate of suicide in America: 23 per 100,000, compared with 15 per 100,000 among whites (Green & Waldman, 2020). Interestingly, the dramatization of the life and work of Captain Pratt appeared on television and the character ‘Yellow Bear’ was also played by Leonard Nimoy. The same project is at work with African-Americans in the United States. As with the native peoples, there were parallel but contradictory policies at work. On the one hand, the African-American, like the Native American, was unwelcome in white society—‘They should be segregated into separate communities permanently.’ But at the same time, there should also be a project of cultural replacement. The African and the native should speak English only, should become Christian, and should develop habits and proclivities that are the same as those of ‘mainstream’ America. In the following sections, we delineate the processes through which ICT4L become destructional in global contexts. We will discuss globalization (Bauman, 1998; Spring, 2009; Steger, 2009), neocolonialism (Sartre, 2001), neoliberalism (Mirowski, 2009; Harvey, 2005), and instrumentalism (Feenberg, 1991).

2. ICT4L International Policy, Process, and Practice The work of ID does not have to be destructional, but in order to achieve this we have to be mindful of and educate ourselves about the veiled processes

94  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

that influence our theory, design, and praxis. These processes include: 1) globalization; 2) neocolonialism; 3) neoliberalism; and 4) instrumentalism. It is hoped that our efforts to illuminate these interdependent forces will help identify the destructional aspects of our work and so we can realign them culturally. Ergo, as a matter of prudence, we do NOT posit that all instructional design is valueless, nor is ID in and of itself a destructional process. What we argue is that in our advocacy, we assume that we are offering something good, but in the context of international work, there has always been the problem of innovation being deficient in crossing into new ecologies in ways that are appropriate—in ways that give meaning and value. Globalization is one process that affords sharing all manner of ideas, and all its co-occurring related processes can feed into the destructional approach to ID.

2.1 Globalization There is a new manifest destiny at work in the 21st century. Globalization is also doing cultural violence on a planetary scale. The term globalization refers to, “the expansion and intensification of social relations and consciousness across world-time and world-space” (Steger, 2009, p. 15). Location, and therefore local authority, becomes less important as communication, transportation, and logistic technologies metaphorically make the world smaller by increasing the ease and speed of what these technologies convey. This calls for new ways to resist invisibility and new ways to stymie that work of destructional design. The case example previously presented was one of promoting assimilation. Hundreds of Native Americans had their cultural memories wiped clean and their languages, religions, and habits intentionally replaced. This cultural genocide was not the physical genocide openly advocated by others in the 19th and 20th centuries, but it was genocide nonetheless. It was making native peoples invisible. It was wiping away the culture that made them distinct. Globalization must be thought of as a process through which localization is de-emphasized and transnational structures are thrust to the fore. There is the decreasing influence of the individual nation-state and the promotion of international entities, such as banks, markets, corporations, non-governmental organizations, and other entities that are not tied to any specific geographic locality (Bauman, 1998; Spring, 2009; Shields, 2013). This delocalization operates to lessen the importance of national borders and the sovereignty of national dominion. Globalization is a social and cultural process, as well as an economic and political one. In some respects, it includes a wiping

Making Culture Visible  95

away of some cultures and the making of others. Globalization has given rise to the notion of a global ubiquitous culture to which we all refer. It is a Habermasian lifeworld that has become a common referent spanning the globe (Habermas, 1984). But this is not an emergent, agnostic culture that is an amalgam of others. It is one spawned by specific powers that utilized technologies to globalize—and to do so for their own benefit. Let us consider the rise of the English language, a truly great harbinger of globalization. In the Western Hemisphere in 1492, there were no fewer than 300 languages spoken on the continents of North and South America. Today, most of these languages are extinct or endangered (Campbell & Bright, 2016). While many exult in the emergence of the Internet, more than 80 percent of its content is in English (Steger, 2009). There are specific values that were imparted along with English. Whether we like it or not, globalization has involved a process of Westernization, and yet accompanying globalization is an urgent promotion of universality—the experience or quality of being shared by all people. The World Bank, the United Nations, UNESCO, and the World Conference on Education for All were grounded on this idea of a universal right to education (Shields, 2013). The World Bank, established in 1944, sought to provide development funds for nation-states, while it itself remained a freefloating entity not bound to any particular nation-state. The following year, the close of the Second World War saw the United Nations charter signed by 50 original members and the setting up of a ‘Security Council’ that had the power to veto otherwise binding resolutions. This globalizing structure was then tied to colonialism with the system rigged to support the most powerful nations of the post-war era (Spring, 2009). The very next year, in 1946, both UNESCO and UNICEF were founded (Spring, 2009). At the same time, nations in Asia and Africa were becoming independent, but these new nationalizations came at the same time as the establishment of a new globalized power structure. Power was being not redistributed, but consolidated. In 1947, the first major colonial country (India) became independent and in 1948, the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights was ratified in a 48–0 vote and included the point that everyone has a right to education (Shields, 2013). The United States Agency for International Development (USAID) was founded in 1961. In 1963, the World Bank made the first loan for education (Spring, 2009). The World Conference on Education for All was held in 1990 and pledged universal education by the year 2000 (Shields, 2013). As we examine this globalization through the portals of history, the proverbial elephant in the room is how this globalization has happened, who did the globalizing, for whom it was done, and to whom it was done. Might

96  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

these same queries be raised about education, as well? For example, Apple and many others have noted that education is essentially a political act (Apple, 1988, 2001, 2004). Globalization has involved the projection of power, and there have been many identifiable winners and losers. In the application of ICT to learning, might we consider that there may also be many of these winners and losers? We may be tempted to ask, “How could learning be bad?” or “How could the application of ICT to learning possibly hurt anyone?” But then let us take a step back and ask again, “Who, for whom, to whom, why?” What we may come away with, in the short term at least, is a sense that globalization—and even technology itself—is a Western project. As we have seen, there is little doubt that the world has, for a lack of a better word, shrunk. But it is not smallness that is important. It is globalization and its component processes: 1) the de-geographicalization of everything; 2) the vanishing relevance of the nation-state; 3) the burgeoning importance of transnational markets; and 4) cultural homogenization. What is important here is that globalization is made possible by technology and that it creates new asymmetrical expressions of cultural power and that it accompanies a new kind of colonialism. It is our hope that a global awakening to the interrelated needs of the entire world may be brought to the forefront in this critique and that globalization in the economic and cultural sense may be supplanted by a global collective consciousness that is more ethically than economically and politically defined.

2.2 Neocolonialism Globalization first came with colonization. The first underpinning and interwoven process that accompanies globalization is neocolonialism. As the name implies, this process is not simply colonial in the traditional sense. That is, it does not involve the military occupation of lands to exploit natural resources and human capital and remake a nation in another locality. Globalized colonialism does not need to rely on physical occupations. It is simply a promotion of a global culture, a global society, a global economy, and a global polity. Education is one way of transmitting these global values. According to Shields (2013), In terms of both culture and economics, education is co-constitutive of this process of economic and cultural globalization: it facilitates the transmission of world culture values and integration of individuals and societies into the world economic system, and, in turn, educational policy and practice are continually reformed and redefined by these trends. (p. 117)

Making Culture Visible  97

The spread of this new, modern, global culture is not one without tension. Indeed, there is quite a lot. The terms homogenization and hegemony are common to this critique. Homogenization is the remaking of the world into a ubiquitous sameness. It is a new sort of colonization that is not primarily about the theft of natural resources or strategic pieces of land. It is about replacing the many different cultures of the world and remaking them into a monochromatic monolith in the technologyrich modern world. This new hegemony is remade by transacting with the currency of information. Education is, therefore, an essential component of information age colonialism. The old colonialists conquered new geographically closed worlds in the guise of bringing civilization and religion. However, the world has been made open by technology. The neocolonialists conquer knowledge and cultural systems in the guise of advocacy—education, justice, peace, and prosperity to the technologically open world. This is neocolonialism, and its burden is taken up by the proselytizing destructional designer who aims with practiced proficiency to remake the world. Many advocacy movements only borrow terms like change and reform when they are in fact seeking to reaffirm the status quo. In the field of ICT, we must be in the business of demystification. The pretentious jargon of ICT in education too often is used to hide economic and political interests and hypocritical exploitations written into the DNA of the status quo. As an illustration, efforts like ‘One Laptop per Child’ promoted learning with technology, but also promoted the notion of individual ownership. The work of the neocolonialist is to show the world its transgressions and compel it to confess its failings and its deficiencies. At the same time, like true evangelists, the neocolonialists present salvation and metaphorical rebirth in the form of technological modernity and Western culture. Tibi (2008) observed, “The project of modernization was driven by the almost missionary zeal of the universalist modernization approach that dominated American thought and Western approaches in general in the postcolonial period” (p. 362). The price to pay for this is a surrender of one’s cultural identity and ecological frame in favor of its new matrix.

2.3 Neoliberalism Accompanying neocolonialism as a foundational process related to current practice in ICT4L is neoliberalism. Neoliberalism is an animating principle that suggests disdain for the power of the nation-state in favor of empowering market forces. According to Harvey (2005),

98  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

Neoliberalism is, in the first instance, a theory of political economic practices that proposes that human well-being can best be advanced by liberating individual entrepreneurial freedoms and skills within an institutional framework characterized by strong private property rights, free markets, and free trade. (p. 2) Neoliberalism involves the privatization of any public enterprise and generally involves the deregulation of economic structures so that markets may be left alone to function on their own without hindrance from governments. This means that there is a liberalization of regulation with regard to trade and industry. There are also tax cuts on large-scale corporate entities and business elites. While regulations of corporate entities are liberalized, organized labor is policed strictly. Labor unions are disempowered as enemies of business. Public expenditures, especially those devoted to social spending programs, are all reduced. Nation-state–level entities are made smaller, while international markets are expanded. This may include education, public works, social security, and other entities. The true neoliberal, when faced with problems, considers that the problem can be solved by letting market forces act upon them. It is endowing market forces with an almost supernatural power of correction. Harvey (2005) posited, In so far as neoliberalism values market exchange as “an ethic in itself, capable of acting as a guide to all human actions, and substituting for all previously held ethical beliefs,” it emphasizes the significance of contractual relations in the marketplace. It holds that the social good will be maximized by maximizing the reach and frequency of market transactions, and it seeks to bring all human action into the domain of the market. (p. 3) In this neoliberal context, education has become a commodity that market forces can prevail upon. As a commodity, education is importable and exportable. As a commodity, it has transactional value and privatization is emphasized. Education is no longer the burden of the nation-state. It can be bought and sold by anyone. If a government can no longer provide public education, then there is again a waning of the power of the nation-state. If the state can now be circumvented with respect to the education of its general population, then local, indigenous, and traditional constituencies are rendered even more vulnerable to Faustian bargains. ICT is the instrument of these neoliberal,

Making Culture Visible  99

neocolonial processes, and governments are powerless to resist. ICT4L is the new global clipper ship running transnational voyages of discovery in the new information economy.

2.4 Instrumentalism But what of the tools that make this all possible? Instrumentalism is a rather conventional theory of technology. It states that tools, including advanced technological machines and processes, are mere instruments for extending the reach of an agentive actor. There is no agency on the part of the tool. A pen does not write; a person writes using a pen. A gun does not kill; a person kills using a gun. “Technology is deemed ‘neutral,’ without valuative content of its own” (Feenberg, 1991, p. 5). The existence of a tool implies action. It calls out for this action. “A tool always implies at least one small story. There is a situation; something needs doing. Someone obtains or invents a tool in order to do it” (Nye, 2006, p. 5). Instrumentalism implies an apolitical universality of technology. This value-neutral notion of technology also implies that locality is not important and therefore culture is not important in the tool itself. This contrasts with a substantive theory of technology that posits that tools and techniques restructure the wielder of the technology. The tool, in some way, changes the user of a tool. This applies some agency to the tool in that the tool, as a designed artifact, controls the user. Technology, in this way of thinking, comes with its own culture and value system—and this is not neutral. The tools that we use make us different and they afford some behaviors and actions over others. The tools of a colonial master come with the culture, the choices, and the values of being or becoming a master. In the current globalized world that sees the surrender to technologies (non-human entities), there is the ostensible adoption of ICT using an instrumentalist approach, and this fails to recognize the colonial values of the technologies. Feenberg (1991) offered, “If technology is truly neutral, it should be able to serve a plurality of ends. But the close association of mass democracy with cultural Westernization seems to deny that pluralism, and in fact confirms the arguments of substantive theory” (p.  12). Viewing technology as an agnostic tool accompanies viewing the world as simply a resource. Heidegger, who explored the essence of technology wrote, Everywhere we remain unfree and chained to technology, whether we passionately affirm or deny it. But we are delivered over to it in the

100  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

worst possible way when we regard it as something neutral; for this conception of it, to which today we particularly like to do homage, makes us utterly blind to the essence of technology. (Heidegger, 1977, p. 4) However, does technology have to be a Western thing? Human expression is variable. There are different forms of culture. There are different languages and tribal expressions. But somehow, there is only one modernity characterized by technological advancement (Feenberg, 1991). Could there have been a different expression of technological advancement that was not European? The alternative to our modernity (Feenberg, 1999) may be constructed through the use of theory-driven practice that is critical. Just as there has been the development of critical theories in the social and political sectors, so too must there be this development in ICT. Layton (1997) on the purpose of theory mentioned that, Theory directs our attention to particular features of social behavior, and suggests connections between what we see and hear.  .  .  . Theories are not idle speculation. Wherever they guide practical action, they have political implications. (p. 3) We must work to build a cultural theory of ICT4L that will interrupt the un-interrogated problems of modernism, globalization, neocolonialism, neoliberalism, and instrumentalism, and does NOT allow us to make culture invisible.

3. Toward a Cultural Theory of ICT for Learning If we assert that culture cannot surrender to technology (Postman, 1992) then we are faced with many critical questions. How might we move forward in our work in ICT for learning (ICT4L)? Is it possible to reframe things in a cultural way so that we do not make culture invisible? Can we make destructional design work visible but still engage in the work of instructional design? How has education fared under the scientific management of modernism and resultant globalization? A critical theory or perhaps a cultural theory of ICT4L will give us a powerful tool for interrogating our own work. With globalization, what local knowledge is being washed away? What folkways are being exterminated? What languages and ways of being in the world are being homogenized out of existence (Lubin, 2018)? And how are we in the

Making Culture Visible  101

field of ICT4L being the arbiters of the extermination? Many times, there have been implementations of ICT4L projects that are strictly for show. This performative implementation comes about because the show of the technology is far more important than any of its stated goals (Thomas & Yang, 2013). The rhetoric of progress and development in the field of ICT4L is ubiquitous and reflects our goals and values. If progress is looked upon as a unilinear journey toward ever-improving conditions made possible through the application of technology, then we become trapped in a deterministic path that extinguishes freedom. We have to think not only of alternative approaches to education or alternative technologies, but alternatives to our modernity itself (Feenberg, 1999).

3.1 Focusing on the Others There are several steps needed to make the culture of others matter in instructional design and development. Attempts must be made to recognize and promote others, not with a cheap and reductionist sense of universality (equal visibility for all) that begs the question, “From whose perspective?” but rather with a sense of pluralism that recognizes their ecologically specific value as being no less than ours. There is no validity in saying that Western approaches are better than other value systems. We must move beyond the mere recognition of the value that always existed in local contexts but has been systematically delegitimized. Simultaneously, we must remain committed to assisting others in finding solutions to sustain and preserve local cultures. In the following sections, we further discuss the notions of cultural plurality and sustainability and propose how to engage in culturally grounded design so as to deal with visible culture in ethical ways.

3.1.1 Cultural Pluralism in the Information Age In the information age, we are compelled to consider the notion of culture to make it visible. However, it is essential that we also consider the notion of cultural pluralism. This is a philosophy or theory that promotes the coexistence and interactivity between two or more states, groups, or ultimate sources of authority. Here we particularly consider systems of knowledge or paradigms. In advocating for cultural pluralism in the information age, we do not reject science as simply a Western folkway. We propose, however, that science must not be thought of as so monolithically authoritative that it includes a wholesale rejection of local knowledge and folkways as primitive, non-rational,

102  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

superstitious, or ‘merely magical.’ By assuming that a Western or scientific approach to the design of instruction should proceed in a ‘rational’ way, we also assume that to not do so would be ‘irrational.’ This is a mechanism by which we have imbued Western science with a great deal of power. For example, when we unpack scientific claims, we can see that science can presumably be: 1) applied universally; 2) unmoored from time, location, and circumstances, resulting in law-like statements or hypotheses; and 3) is only refutable scientifically. In contrast, local or traditional knowledge and culture is seen as unscientific since it offers notions that cannot be applied universally, and must then only be idiosyncratic in their application. What does this mean for ICT4L? The most essential principles that we must gain from this is that ICT4L must be grounded in the assumptions that: 1) science is itself a form of local knowledge; and 2) science is not superior or inferior to local or indigenous ways of thinking and problem solving. Our culture of science is not superior to the cultures of other learners. More importantly, if we do not seek to understand other knowledge and cultural systems, they will remain marginalized or even wiped out of existence. Importantly, we also do not advocate for the supplanting of one knowledge system in favor of another. On the contrary, we simply argue that there is value in recognizing other knowledge systems. These other systems can coexist, drawing upon a plurality of cultures, traditions, and cosmologies. What we need is cultural plurality in our existing information society. Instructional design, as a field, is grounded in systems theory. This is the idea that many different functions and processes co-occur in concert for the functioning of a larger whole. When applied to the human body, we may think of the digestive system, the circulatory system, the nervous system, and so on. The systematic design of instruction as conceived by theorists such as Dick and Carey, Reigeluth, Smith and Reagan, Branch and others contributed to the idea that the parallel processes of analysis, design, development, implementation, and evaluation when applied to the process of creating instruction will result in effective instruction. However, we must consider that a lot more than system theory is assumed here. At a fundamental level, there is an assumption that the problem of designing instruction may be dealt with in a rational, scientific, and systematic way. This same way of thinking may be thought of as underpinning the application of ICT itself. When we seek to use ICT for learning, we are also applying these assumptions to our way of thinking about learning. As we have seen, culture is at the very heart of meaning making and therefore culture is at the heart of learning and at the heart of ICT4L. When we apply ICT for learning, we are making and enacting technologies that are themselves the product of a Western culture. Now let us consider the idea of ICT4L for learners who see themselves as belonging to

Making Culture Visible  103

or being informed by non-Western cultures. The field of instructional design and technology has generally been agnostic about culture and the need for cultural plurality.

3.1.2 Cultural Sustainability Not only must we recognize local cultures in terms of their innate value in pluralistic terms, because they have been delegitimized by the monolith; we have to recognize the acute vulnerabilities that have emerged. Local cultures have been systematically downtrodden. How do we bring the information world into traditional and local spaces that seek sustainable solutions? A goal must be to maintain existing ecologies and to assist one another in preserving and sustaining them rather than supplanting or colonizing them. This is the escape from destructional design. Our focus must then be on sustainability— on capturing intangible cultural heritage, and on promoting indigenous knowledge systems. We must also work to include cultural content without distorting it and finding ecologically appropriate solutions that do not corrupt and misshape the worldview of others to fit what we already have. In order for our systems of knowledge to collide by way of our advocacy whereby the ecological viability of local, traditional, and indigenous constituencies is maintained and sustained, we must (re)focus our philosophical and methodological groundings and our commitments—both ethical and practical. This begins with making culture visible while complexifying our notion of what it means to design with rather than for learners. This is the essence of sustainability.

3.2 Toward a Design Practice Grounded in Culture Once we have made culture visible rather than invisible, we can work toward changing our design practices from those that may be destructional toward those that are truly instructional. This includes developing design practices that offer sustainable solutions. Just as others have called for cultural relevance in pedagogy and curriculum (e.g. Ladson-Billings, 1995), so too must ICT4L develop design principles, approaches, and processes that honor and incorporate rather than ignore or wipe away the cultures of those for whom we design. This must constitute a more participatory approach. This must involve co-design. These would be approaches that value the ecology and the culture of those for whom we design (Thomas, 2017). In order to do that, we must explicitly frame our design practice around those contextual

104  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

complexities or global forces that we have discussed (e.g. neoliberalism, globalization, and instrumentalism) to mitigate their harmful effects. Here we emphasize that the key to sustainability is collaborative, co-design using participatory, emancipatory, grounded methods that make local community members the curators of their own traditions and ecologies. Table  5.1 lists the contextual complexities previously discussed. These are aligned with short descriptions of each of these, with brief citations for Table 5.1 A Designer Primer or Heuristic for Culturally Grounded Design (Making culture visible while avoiding the path of the destructional designer) Contextual Complexities

Short Description

Questions to Address

The general socioIn what ways might economic force this piece of that describes the ICT4L promote dislocation of peoglobal Western ple and processes culture over local in favor of systems cultures? that function simultaneously in different part of the world (see Bauman, 1998) Neoliberalism The promotion of How do we make laissez-faire ecovisible local nomics and faith knowledge? in markets (see Harvey, 2005) Instrumentalism Viewing tools as In what ways are we non-agentive considering how (see Feenberg, 1999) users are influenced by tools and tool usage? Neocolonialism Seeking to supplant In what ways might one culture for this piece of another for the ICT4L promote advantage of the neoliberal interfirst ests, and who are (see Said, 1978) the winners and losers in this? Globalization

Actions to Take To avoid the pitfalls of globalization, include design elements that are locally co-constructed

Use methods and materials that are not copyrighted or shared for profit Explicitly listing the affordances of any tool

Always work with local co-designers whose motivations can be articulated and negotiated with the design team

Making Culture Visible  105

further reading. This is followed by questions to address these contextual complexities when doing culturally grounded design work that makes culture visible and promotes cultural pluralism. This is followed by brief statements that represent actions designers may take to address the contextual complexities respectively.

4. Summary The field of ICT4L is under theorized with so much focus on ‘effectiveness’ and very little on consequence. As we have seen, tools are not dumb instruments. They have agency even when the wielder of the technology is not very apparent. As we explore ICT4L efforts throughout the world let us, at the same time, work to develop and refine a cultural theory of ICT4L that will turn our attention to these important issues.

Issues in Brief The work of the instructional designer is essentially cultural. Therefore, culture must be made visible and carefully interrogated as part of the design of instruction. Failing to do this may change the instructional designer into a destructional designer, hostile to the cultures of the people and communities for whom she/he designs, directly or indirectly.

Key Messages • Culture must not be ignored. On the contrary, it must be explicitly addressed and made visible in instructional design and ICT4L. • Apparent or not, the instructional designer is doing cultural work and is influenced by contextual complexities (globalization, neocolonialism, neoliberalism, instrumentalism). • There are practical steps that may be taken for doing cultural design that account for these cultural complexities and offer practical solutions for avoiding the pitfalls of destructional design. In this way, we may promote cultural pluralism in the information age. • Mere recognition of the culture of others is not enough; we must also engage in sustainable design thinking.

106  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin

Reflection Questions We have not even begun to consider the ecological impact of ICT4L because we often are too eager to celebrate its potential to save us from being left behind. Instead, we should consider basic questions when working in the design, development, and implementation of ICT4L: • • • •

In what ways might this piece of ICT4L promote neoliberal interests, and who are the winners and losers in this? In what ways might this piece of ICT4L promote global Western culture over local cultures? What is meant by the environmental impact of a piece of ICT4L? Will ICT4L efforts contribute to the flourishing of people’s lives?

References Apple, M. W. (1988). Teachers and texts: A political economy of class and gender relations in education. New York: Routledge. Apple, M. W. (2001). Educating the “right” way: Markets, standards, God, and inequality. New York: Routledge. Apple, M. W. (2004). Ideology and curriculum (3rd ed.). New York: Routledge. Bateson, G. (1972). Steps to an ecology of mind. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Bauman, Z. (1998). Globalization: The human consequences. New York: Columbia University Press. Buckingham, D. (2007). Beyond technology: Children’s learning in the age of digital culture. Cambridge, UK: Polity. Campbell, L.,  & Bright, W. B. (2016). North American Indian languages. Encyclopedia Britannica. Retrieved October  31, 2020, from www.britannica.com/topic/ North-American-Indian-languages Churchill, W. (2004). Kill the Indian, Save the man: The genocidal impact of American Indian residential schools. San Francisco, CA: City Lights. Dick, W., & Carey, L. (1978). The systematic design of instruction. Glenview, IL: Scott, Foresman and Company. Dusek, V. (2006). Philosophy of technology: An introduction. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. Ellison, R. (1995). Invisible man: Second Vintage international edition. New York: Vintage. Feenberg, A. (1991). Critical theory of technology. New York: Oxford University Press. Feenberg, A. (1995). Alternative modernity. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Feenberg, A. (1999). Questioning technology. London: Routledge. Geertz, C. (1973). The interpretation of cultures. New York: Basic Books. Green, E. L.,  & Waldman, A. (2020). I  feel invisible: Native students languish in public schools. New York Times. Retrieved May 26, 2020, from www.nytimes.com/2018/12/28/ us/native-american-education.html

Making Culture Visible  107 Habermas, J. (1984). The theory of communicative action: Lifeworld and system: A critique of functionalist reason. Boston, MA: Beacon. Harvey, D. (2005). A brief history of neoliberalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Heidegger, M. (1977). The question concerning technology and other essays. New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. Ladson-Billings, G. (1995). Toward a theory of culturally relevant pedagogy. American Educational Research Journal, 32(3), 465–491. Latour, B. (1987). Science in action. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Layton, R. (1997). An introduction to theory in anthropology. Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press. Lemke, J. L. (2002). Language development and identity: Multiple timescales in the social ecology of learning. In C. Kramsch (Ed.), Language acquisition and language socialization: Ecological perspectives (pp. 68–87). London: Continuum. Lubin, I. A. (2018). Local needs, global forces, and the politics of technology-supported innovations: An editorial introduction. In I. A. Lubin (Ed.), ICT-supported innovations in small countries and developing regions: Perspectives and recommendations for international education. New York: Springer. Meyer, N. (Director). (1982). The wrath of Khan [Film]. Paramount. Mirowski, P. (2009). Postface: Defining neoliberalism. In P. Mirowski & D. Plehwe (Eds.), The road from Mont Pelerin: The making of the neoliberal thought collective (pp. 417–455). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Nye, D. E. (2006). Technology matters: Questions to live with. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Postman, N. (1992). Technopoly: The surrender of culture to technology. New York: Vintage Books. Pratt, R. H. (1892). The advantages of mingling Indians with Whites. In I. C. Barrows (Ed.), Proceedings of the national conference of charities and correction at the nineteenth annual session held in Denver, COL. June 23–29, 1892 (pp. 45–59). Boston, MA: Press of George H. Ellis. Reiser, R. A. (2012). What field did you say you were in? Defining and naming our field. In R. Reiser & J. V. Dempsey (Eds.), Trends and issues in instructional design and technology (3rd ed., pp. 1–7). Boston, MA: Pearson. Ritzer, G. (2000). The McDonaldization of society: New century edition. Thousand Oaks: Pine Forge Press. Rogoff, B. (1990). Apprenticeship in thinking: Cognitive development in social context. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Said, E. (1978). Orientalism. New York: Random House. Sartre, J. P. (2001). Colonialism and neocolonialism. London and New York: Routledge. Shields, R. (2013). Globalization and international education. London: Bloomsbury. Smith, P. L., & Ragan, T. J. (1999). Instructional design: Second edition. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Merrill. Spector, J. M. (2012). Foundations of educational technology: Integrative approaches and interdisciplinary perspectives. New York: Routledge. Spring, J. (2009). Globalization of education: An introduction. New York: Routledge. Steger, M. B. (2009). Globalization: A  very short introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Thomas, M. K. (2017). Globalization, ironic binaries, and instructional technology: Toward the emergence of a robust critical theory of technology. In A. Benson, R. Joseph, & J.

108  Michael K. Thomas and Ian A. Lubin L. Moore (Eds.), Culture, learning and technology: Research and practice (pp. 44–57). New York: Routledge. Thomas, M. K., Mitchell, M., & Joseph, R. (2002). The third dimension of ADDIE: A cultural embrace. Tech Trends, 46, 40–45. Thomas, M. K., & Yang, W. L. (2013). Neoliberalism, globalization, and creative educational destruction in Taiwan. Educational Technology Research and Development, 61(1), 107–129. Tibi, B. (2008). The challenge of fundamentalism. In F. J. Lechner & J. Boli (Eds.), The globalization reader (3rd ed., pp. 358–363). Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. Young, P. A. (2009). Instructional design frameworks and intercultural models. Hershey, PA: IGI Global/Information Science Publishing. Young, P. A. (2014). The presence of culture in learning. In J. M. Spector, M. D. Merrill, J. Elen, & M. J. Bishop (Eds.), Handbook of research on educational communications and technology: Fourth edition (pp. 349–361). New York: Springer.

Aesthetics and Power

6

Reforming Access to and the ­Inclusion of Cultural Content in ICT-Supported Education: A Peruvian Case Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

1. Introduction The rapid development of digital technology is impacting our societies as technology plays a key role in promoting diversity through the accessibility of content that previously was marginalized and avoided. Thus, new technologies have the potential to include and integrate other cultures and worldviews into mainstream education and curricula development. Educational systems usually reflect the values and perspectives of the dominant culture and often maintain the status quo (Gay, 2004). In other words, there is limited expression for other cultures, such as those of indigenous peoples, which creates power inequalities when the educational system reinforces only the values of the dominant group. Education systems should undergo systematic and systemic evaluations of their efforts to promote cultural diversity, in order to provide educational equality, especially to those students belonging to marginalized groups. In this regard, information and communication technologies (ICT) could play an important role, because it helps to make visible those cultures that have

110  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

been marginalized from mainstream education and could empower those societies. Offered in this chapter is relevant contextual information about Peru’s cultural diversity, its intercultural bilingual education (IBE), and implementation of ICT in the educational system. Three cases are presented that illustrate the interplay of power and provision related to indigenous culture (namely, of the Aymara people) at national, regional, and local school levels. Also discussed are the lessons learned and challenges faced to include ICT implementation at those three levels, including some general observations derived from the reviewed cases. This chapter outlines disparities in cultural education and the need for the inclusion of indigenous communities’ culture through ICT-supported education. It also shows the impact of government interventions, by exploring the access to and the inclusion of cultural content as in the case of Peru. The hope is that by providing examples of initiatives at different levels of the education system, the quality of education in multicultural societies can be impacted and improved.

1.1 Cultural Diversity and Sustainability Cultural diversity is an important discourse in our globalized world that has become more connected due to technological advancement. Veritably, the overconnected societies of the 21st century require an increased sense of global mindedness and cultural awareness (van Laar, van Deursen, van Dijk, & de Haan, 2017). Cultural diversity is understood as the willingness to engage with others, which fosters openness toward different cultural experiences and the valuing of contrasts rather than uniformity (Hannerz, 1990). In other words, cultural diversity has to do with developing an attitude that enables the harmonious coexistence of diverse cultures. Cultural diversity can also be explained based on the concept of multiculturalism, which “focuses on the existence of various ethnic communities within a given territory whose cultural claims are recognized and respected by the state” (Incirlioglu  & Tandogan, 1999, p.  52). Moreover, as Collado (2013) states, cultural diversity represents the creative potential of world society, which is acutely important in a knowledge society. While diversity is important, in the last few decades, cultural sustainability has become a growing priority within sustainable development agendas both for the preservation of indigenous communities’ heritage and for educational equity. Therefore, for indigenous cultures, an increased understanding and appreciation of their values is necessary not only for

Aesthetics and Power  111

continued survival (Loach, Rowley,  & Griffiths, 2017), but also because they are relevant for building the country’s social cohesion, promoting tolerance, and granting equal rights and opportunities in society (Fonseca, Lukosch, & ­Brazier, 2019). Aesthetics, as Hartwig (2015) indicates, has sometimes been treated as a synonym for the study of culture; thus, it includes the theology, philosophy, ethics, art, and folklore that are all human expressions of cultural groups and communities. In a multicultural society, there are dynamic tensions between and among dominant and marginalized cultures, which creates power struggles. In this state of affairs, power, culture, and aesthetics are connected by point of view. For example, cultural relevance is reflected on/by whomever determines what is beautiful/disagreeable, tasteful/improper, elegant/ savage, or sophisticated/primitive. The end result is that dominant cultures impose their points of view not only over a national population, but sometimes globally as well, thus determining what is included and what is excluded from cultural expression.

1.2 Power: Exclusion and Inclusion In the social sciences, power is defined in terms of control and influence (Fiske, 2001). It should be highlighted that power exists inside the context of relationships (Mitchell, Crowson, & Shipps, 2011). Expressly, the complex interactions within any organization or society define who, or which group, has control over—and can impose their viewpoints and values on—all the others. Generally, government policies mirror the values and practices of dominant cultural groups, often resulting in strong systemic discrimination toward indigenous people and their cultures rather than building cooperation with them. This situation is observed around the world and has been shown to cause sociopolitical tensions, such as segregation, discrimination, the radicalization of positions, and social unrest (Battiste, 2002; Branca, 2018). Most often, indigenous cultures are not visible in cyberspace because they are aesthetically distinct from the prevalent culture—that is, as the dominant cultures impose their values and aesthetics (theology, philosophy, ethics, art, etc.) on others via digital presence, indigenous cultures remain marginalized. This dynamic tension restricts the development of multicultural coexistence. In order to provide a space for cultural expression for all, the power inequalities reinforced by educational programs should be reanalyzed (Incirlioglu & Tandogan, 1999). Institutional support for diversity, inclusion, and cultural awareness represents an imperative in education, given the needs of a pluralistic society

112  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

in which members of each group acknowledge and respect the cultures and values of other groups (Schachner, 2019). Such support should be extended to include indigenous knowledge and culture in cyberspace, and should allow indigenous people to modify, adapt, or build technology to meet their own needs and express their own values ( Jenkins, Clinton, Purushotma, Robison, & Weigel, 2006; UNESCO/IFAP, 2015).

1.3 ICT Content and Cultural Diversity Information and communication technologies (ICT) not only are tools that carry and transmit the values of those who create them, but also are processes that shape and simultaneously are shaped by societies. Cultural diversity is now a key feature of our world. Therefore, the role of ICT in education is important because ICT presents a set of tools that foment cultural exchange and diversity in a globalized world where even marginal societies may spread their own values (Gurstein, 2007). ICT can help indigenous cultures become more visible in cyberspace, thus ensuring the dissemination and transfer of indigenous cultural heritage and the enrichment of human knowledge (Lattimore, 2017; Ott & Pozzi, 2010; UNESCO/IFAP, 2015). Regarding ICT content, Bhatta (2008) mentions three types of educational digital content: 1) interactive activities (or software modules), which are mainly to be used by students in the classroom and at home; 2) digital libraries (or platforms) that provides full-text documents and other educational resources; and 3) creative works created by teachers and students themselves. This classification helps to identify and organize ICT educational resources relevant to the current discussion.

2. The Peruvian Context: Indigenous and Multicultural Learning Ecologies The educational situation of Peru, in general, provides a great illustration of the importance of examining ecological dimensions of educational development. In particular, efforts toward indigenous educational provisions with technology highlight the need for an ecological framework that allows us to examine several interconnected elements such as culture, inclusion, equality, technology, and empowerment. Peru is located in the west-central part of South America. It has a diverse geography that includes sandy beaches on the South Pacific Ocean, the high Andean mountains, and a rich Amazonian rainforest (see Figure  6.1).

Sources: left image: Chowell, Munayco, Escalante, & McKenzie (2009); right image: Ministry of Education (2013)

Figure 6.1 Map of Peru with political boundaries and map of Peruvian languages

Aesthetics and Power  113

114  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

The country has a population of 31 million that comprises mestizos, indigenous people, and groups of European, African, and Asian descent (CIA, 2020). Peru is a multicultural country; the spoken languages are Spanish and 47 indigenous languages, including Quechua and Aymara. According to the Supreme Decree No. 005–2017-MC, the indigenous languages have official status “in the areas where they predominate” (Ministry of Culture, 2017). Between 2002 and 2013, Peru had an average annual GDP growth rate of 6.1 percent, making it one of the fastest-growing countries in Latin America (The World Bank, 2020). The main economic sectors in Peru are commerce, manufacturing, and mining—e.g. exporting gold, silver, and copper (Central Reserve Bank of Peru, 2019). According to the Peruvian National Institute of Statistics and Informatics (INEI, its Spanish acronym) (2019), the current access to mobile phones is 93.6 percent in urban areas and 79.9 percent in rural areas. The Internet is accessed by 27.1 percent of households in urban areas and only 2.1 percent of households in rural areas. Moreover, 35 percent of urban households have a computer, while only 5.8 percent of rural households own a computer (see Table 6.1). These statistics show that rural areas are disadvantaged in comparison to urban areas. Such disparities point to inequality regarding basic access to technological resources.

Table 6.1 Percentage of Access to ICT in Urban and Rural Areas in Peru from 2008–2018 Year 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018

Mobile phone

Internet

Computer

Urban

Rural

Urban

Rural

Urban

Rural

70.1 76.3 81.3 82.7 85.7 87.9 89.4 90.8 92.5 93.5 93.6

24.3 36.0 46.2 49.8 58.2 63.1 68.9 73.1 76.4 78.6 79.9

 6.7  8.6 11.4 14.2 18.3 20.0 21.1 21.5 24.2 25.7 27.1

0.1 0.1 0.3 0.4 0.8 0.9 1.2 1.0 1.5 1.6 2.1

20.2 23.5 27.6 29.5 33.5 36.0 35.3 35.1 36.0 35.1 35.0

1.6 2.2 2.6 3.5 4.4 5.8 6.1 5.7 5.8 5.5 5.8

Source: National Institute of Statistics and Informatics (2019)

Aesthetics and Power  115

2.1 Peruvian Cultural Diversity Peru is a place of ancient civilizations and cultures. For example, the 5,000-year-old Caral city—located close to Lima—is recognized as the most ancient city of the Americas, and the well-known Inca civilization flourished in the Peruvian Andes. There were also many pre-Inca c­ ultures— such as the Chavin, Nazca, Tiahuanaco, and Moche—well before the Spaniards arrived, followed by enslaved Africans and later, immigrant groups from other parts of Europe and Asia. The heritage of the ancient Peruvian civilizations is still reflected in the present Andean culture, which has been well-preserved by the Quechua and Aymara people. Additionally, the Amazonian ethnic groups have maintained their indigenous cultures. All of them constitute the Peruvian multiethnic and multicultural ecology, which consists of 47 indigenous languages. Table 6.2 shows the consolidation of the written system for the indigenous languages. The Andean languages of Quechua and Aymara have already developed a written system, while five Amazonian languages are in the process of consolidation. On the other hand, 15 Amazonian languages are in the initial stage, and 21 Amazonian languages are in the process of revitalization so that they are not lost. Consequently, this diversity of languages reflects varied cultural manifestations in the arts, gastronomy, dress, ways of life, knowledge, and viewpoints. According to the National Peruvian Census 2017 (National Institute of Statistics and Informatics, 2019), 4,477,195 inhabitants (25.7 percent of the Peruvian population) have an indigenous language as a mother tongue. Of these inhabitants, 85 percent (3,799,780) speak Quechua, 10 percent (450,010) speak Aymara, and 5 percent (227,405) speak an Amazonian indigenous language. There are approximately 14 million Quechua speakers throughout Latin America, which makes it the most widely spoken indigenous language on the continent, followed by the Aymara language, which has four million speakers. Quechua and Aymara were spoken by the ancient Inca and Tiwanaku civilizations. These ancient cultures are pre-Columbian and have left wonderful archaeological vestiges in the Andes. Both languages are still vibrant in the region.

2.2 Intercultural Bilingual Education (IBE) in Peru Peru has included intercultural bilingual education (IBE) in education since the 1970s. Here, the term intercultural means the encounter

116  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

Table 6.2 Stages of the Written System Consolidation for the 47 Indigenous Languages in Peru Consolidation of written system

Indigenous language

With written system In process of consolidation

1. Quechua   2. Aymara   3. Ashaninka   5. Shawi   4. Awajún   6. Shipibokonibo   8. Achuar 12. Kakataibo   9. Cashinahua 13. Kakinte 10. Ese eja 14. K andozichapra 11. Harakbut 15. Madija 27. Amahuaca 33. Ishonawa 28. Arabela 34. Jaqaru 29. Bora 35. Kapanawa 30. Chamicuro 36. Kawki 37. Kukama 31. Ikitu kukamiria 32. Iñapari

In initial phase

In process of revitalization

  7. Wampis

16. Matsés 17. Matsigenka 18. Nahua 19. Nomatsigenga 38. Maijiki 39. Muniche 40. Muruimuinani 41. Nanti 42. Ocaina

20. Secoya 21. Sharanahua 22. Ticuna

43. Omagua 44. Resígaro 45. Shiwilu 46. Taushiro 47. Yagua

Source: National Institute of Statistics and Informatics (2019)

between cultures to foster mutual understanding, reciprocity, and equality among them (Gudykunst, 2003). Initially, IBE was focused mainly on the Quechua and Aymara languages. However, since 2014, the Ministry of Education has supported the inclusion of six indigenous languages that have consolidated written systems (i.e. Quechua, Aymara, Ashaninka, Shipibo, Awajún, and Shawi), and has provided written materials for teachers, including didactic guidelines and ‘learning pathways.’ Peruvian IBE includes topics related to the indigenous cultures, their worldviews, and ways of living (Ministry of Education, 2013, 2016). Using Latin characters as a basis, the written systems for the Andean languages, Quechua and Aymara, have had an official alphabet since 1985. However, the consolidation of written systems for the Amazonian languages started in 2006 and continued until 2018 through recognizing their official alphabets also based on Latin characters. There has been an IBE curriculum in Peru since the 1980s, but it has not worked well because of some incongruences between the policies and their implementation, such as selecting schools located close to urban areas,

Aesthetics and Power  117

insufficient teacher training, and logistical problems (Hornberger, 1987). In the 2000s, the Puno region—located in the highlands of the Andes—had the initiative to develop the Regional Curriculum Project to include content related to the culture of the local native indigenous people (Regional Directorate of Education, 2009). Nevertheless, in 2015, the Ministry of Education launched the National Plan of Intercultural Bilingual Education 2016–2021, which intended to provide a pertinent IBE curriculum (Ministry of Education, 2015).

2.3 ICT Implementation in Peru Peruvian ICT initiatives in education started with the Infoescuela (1996– 2001) and Edured (1996–2001) programs. However, the Huascaran Project (2001–2007) was the first initiative that included rural high schools that were attended by indigenous students. The project provided computer labs and access to the Internet through VSAT antennas (Salas-Pilco, 2014). Later, the government introduced the 2007–2010 ‘One Laptop per Child’ (OLPC) project, through which XO laptops were used as a one-to-one model which gave each student access to a personal laptop. LEGO WeDo robotics kits were also implemented in rural primary schools. These rural schools are predominantly multigrade, where students of two or more grades are taught by one teacher at the same time. These isolated schools have electricity, but limited Internet access due to Peru’s geographic characteristics (Cristiá, Ibarraran, Cueto, Santiago, & Severin, 2012). Since 2011, the educational portal PeruEduca has been in place. PeruEduca is a digital learning system that allows teachers, principals, students, and parents to access educational resources, tools, and services using any computer, laptop, tablet, or mobile phone that has Internet access (Ministry of Education, 2019a). These initiatives show the evolution of ICT provision, as well as the gradual integration of technology in the teaching and learning activities. These ICT implementations indicate that Peru has made some progress in order to provide access to technology within schools, but there is still much to be done regarding rural connectivity, as well as the use, ownership, and sustainability of ICT in education.

2.4 The Aymara People The Aymaras, also known as Qollas, are one of the 54 indigenous groups in Peru. Their communities are located mainly in the area surrounding Lake

118  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

Titicaca. Their ancestral way of life, which survived the Spanish conquerors, has been preserved and is still practiced today. One of their main cultural contributions to humankind was the domestication of the potato (Graves & Cabieses, 2001). The Aymaras’ main organizational form is through rural communities; this Andean organizational form has its roots in the pre-Columbian ayllu system. The elders have the crucial role of keeping and transmitting oral traditions, as well as Aymara knowledge. The highest authority is the communal assembly comprised by all families. Aymara make decisions based on unanimous agreement (consensual agreement), which is different from Western democracy, in which agreements are obtained by a majority (Muñoz & Chiroque Solano, 2009; Montenegro, 2008).

2.4.1 Some Values of the Aymara The Aymara revere Mother Earth (Pachamama) because it provides them sustenance, and they conceptualize space-time (Pacha) as being cyclical. Aymara’s Andean cosmovision portrays everything as alive or like an allencompassing life (Arnsdorff Hidalgo, 2006; Bellido, 2012). Aymara’s main values are as follows: 1) respect—to recognize, accept and appreciate the qualities of others, to live in harmony with the community, and to revere nature or Mother Earth; 2) reciprocity—to coexist in harmony and balance, both with nature (e.g. Mother Earth) and with society; 3) work—to earn a livelihood that is not oriented to wealth accumulation, but to ensure the existential fullness of the daily living of one’s family and community; and 4) sense of community—the ability of each member to contribute to and live in their community (Montenegro, 2008; Muñoz & Chiroque Solano, 2009; Regional Directorate of Education, 2009).

2.4.2 Some Festivals and Ceremonies of the Aymara Festivals are very important in the Aymara people’s lives and present a vivid manifestation of their culture, religion, arts, and folklore. The festivals and ceremonies are a syncretism of the Roman Catholic and Andean religions, and they tend to renew and reaffirm respect for their own cultural traditions (Llanque, 2004). This syncretism is accepted and valued by the regional population, and recently by the whole nation; however, it is often difficult for people from other cultures to understand the complexity of this syncretism that has been developing for centuries. Aesthetically, however, it appears that

Aesthetics and Power  119

the national mainstream gradually has been embracing Aymara festivals as represented by dances and music. Importantly, the ceremonies of the Aymara community are based on its ancient culture that considers Mother Earth (Pachamama) a living being. The land is not owned as an economic property, but is respected as the embodiment of Pachamama. Furthermore, the people follow nature’s cycles. Sometimes, this dynamic and organic interaction with Mother Earth (Pachamama) conflicts with the market economy (Arnsdorff Hidalgo, 2006). It is interesting to note that the Aymaras’ perspective regarding Mother Earth is not appropriately understood by the dominant culture, especially when it clashes with the economic interests of foreign multinational companies. Consequently, the need for cultural sustainability in the face of large national and multinational companies’ economic interest is of utmost significance in Peru, considering its multiethnic and multicultural ecological constitution. It is important to appreciate and make relevant the different cultures and their expressions through arts, music, dance, festivals, ceremonies, and so on.

3. ICT Content to Support Multicultural Ecological Diversity in Peru This section provides examples of the inclusion of Aymara cultural content in ICT-supported education at three levels of the Peruvian educational system. These examples show the possibility of including and valuing indigenous people’s cultures.

3.1 At the National Level: Promoting Indigenous Languages Over the past decade, the Peruvian Ministry of Education has implemented several initiatives to include content related to indigenous people’s culture, such as providing didactic guidelines for elementary school teachers to work in six indigenous languages: Quechua, Aymara, Ashaninka, Shipibo, Awajún, and Shawi (Ministry of Education, 2016). For example, there are teacher guidelines in Aymara and six Aymara textbooks, one for each grade of elementary school, among other text-based resources. In 2013, 18,217 schools (21  percent of all Peruvian schools) provided indigenous bilingual education (IBE). In 2005, the government decreed that teachers who work in these

120  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

schools must have bilingual skills, because the education in these institutions was done only in the Spanish language (Servindi, 2013). The dominant culture in Peru transmits values that are sometimes not compatible with indigenous principles and worldviews. Nevertheless, it is empowering to support the inclusion of indigenous languages into the Peruvian educational system, promote them in bilingual education, and develop teachers’ guidelines and text-based educational resources while making them available online or in digital format for easy distribution. In that way, the General Directorate of Intercultural, Bilingual and Rural Education (Ministry of Education, 2013) is reducing the lack of representation of indigenous culture and has increased teachers’ cultural awareness in mainstream education. Regarding access to ICT for indigenous children, a significant initiative has been the ‘One Laptop per Child’ (OLPC) project that has provided digital devices (XO laptops) to rural schools (Salas-Pilco, 2014). However, this initiative lacks digital content that is contextualized to the indigenous communities’ knowledge and culture. Digital resources that include indigenous contexts are still very limited or not yet available. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Education has been developing text-based content in indigenous languages. In 2013, it gathered several groups of expert educators whose mother tongue was an indigenous language; these educators worked to develop several texts for early-childhood and primary education teachers who work in IBE schools. Today, the PeruEduca platform is offering online courses for training IBE teachers in order to improve their indigenous language skills (Ministry of Education, 2019b). In spite of these gains, there are few audiovisual resources available to Aymara students. The software and content included in the XO laptops are related to general topics based mostly on the national curriculum, with very limited materials contextualized to the Aymara reality. Overall, however, the initiative of the Peruvian government to include indigenous languages in the educational system was welcomed, including the creation of policies to support indigenous bilingual education (IBE).

3.2 At the Regional Level: Developing a Regional Curriculum Including Aymaran Content The Puno region is located in the southern part of Peru, in the highlands known as the Collao High Plateau, at an elevation of 3,820 meters above sea level. According to the National Census 2017, the Puno region has a

Aesthetics and Power  121

population of 1,172,527; Aymaras make up 313,283 of the inhabitants (27 percent), and Quechuas are represented by 496,643 people (42 percent) (National Institute of Statistics and Informatics, 2019). Owing to the large size of the indigenous population, it was crucial to officially include indigenous knowledge, arts, and worldviews in the regional curriculum and make the content more relevant for indigenous students. Thus, the Puno Regional Directorate of Education, encouraged by the need to include local knowledge based on indigenous cultures in all schools, worked from 2005–2010 in partnership with CARE Perú (2019) to develop the Proyecto Curricular Regional de Puno (Regional Curriculum Project of Puno) (Regional Directorate of Education, 2009). Expressly, it was developed as a regional context-relevant curriculum for local societies and indigenous communities. This curriculum was created, refined, and validated, along with 48 workshops involving the participation of several stakeholders, such as local authorities, parents, principals, teachers, and students (especially those from indigenous backgrounds). The stakeholders were organized into groups and helped to include indigenous knowledge in the curricular content to consolidate a cultural identity in an intercultural context (Regional Directorate of Education, 2011). The regional curriculum illustrated the indigenous Andean values, and was based on the complementarity of the feminine and masculine as a foundation of well-being, and followed by values such as good living (living in harmony), wanting good (feeling positively about all that surrounds us), learning (to know and understand well), and doing well (acting with equilibrium). This includes the philosophical principles of relationality (everything is related to everything), correspondence (there is a harmonious correspondence among different aspects of reality), complementarity (opposites complement each other becoming one integrity), and reciprocity (the pragmatic ethics of mutual interaction). In spite of the good intentions, the implementation of this curriculum was not possible due to: 1) a lack of the required budget to implement the initiative in the regional schools; 2) the introduction of national standardized tests in 2006 that considered only the Spanish language; and 3) the absence of support from the Ministry of Education for a decentralized curriculum (Figueroa Díaz, 2016; Ministry of Education, 2007). Regarding ICT use for supporting indigenous viewpoints included in the regional curriculum, there were limited digital resources created by very few teachers because of a lack of support for decentralized regional initiatives. In the final procedure, each school decided for itself whether it should follow the proposed curriculum, and only a few of them—supported by parents

122  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

and teachers—implemented the regional curriculum. Consequently, the context-relevant ICT educational resources are still limited in the region.

3.3 At the Local School Level: Sharing the Aymara’s Way of Life Rural schools located in the district of Acora (province of Puno) are attended by indigenous students who belong to Aymara communities. These schools have to follow the national curriculum. Although rural schools were provided with ICT devices (e.g. XO laptops), there was a shortage of digital materials and resources relevant to the Aymara culture. Few schools, such as the rural elementary school No. 70678, developed learning activities oriented toward the Aymara context (Salas-Pilco, 2019). One learning activity required Aymara students to document their daily lives using their XO laptops by gathering digital photos and writing digital text. The students focused on the agricultural and livestock activities carried out daily in the community. They took photos of the crops, traditional tools used for removing the soil and sowing seeds, and their rural animals (see Figure 6.2). The children wanted to share their photos on the Internet because although they took many photos using their XO laptops, they were mainly shared among themselves and their families. One issue that emerged was that the community did not have Internet access. Nevertheless, the children wished to visit the closest city and use an Internet café, and so the parents agreed and collaborated to arrange a visit to a facility in the city of Ilave. The parents suggested that the activity be carried out on a Sunday because this is the day on which Aymara families go to the regional market to buy and sell their fresh products. At the Internet café, the Aymara students created a blog and posted digital texts and images, thus contributing digital content and enhancing the information about their indigenous community and Aymara culture and, in turn, sharing Aymara’s way of life with the world. While in it is own right, it is empowering to let indigenous children participate in the decision-making processes about their learning activities and to decide what topics are most relevant to them, this participation also helps them to share the Aymara viewpoint with others through content creation and results in building bridges of understanding among cultures. Moreover, by having ownership of the content, they become the stewards of their heritage and culture, and ambassadors for expressing authentic Aymara values and worldviews. Regarding ICT content, this was the first time that students of Huilasipe posted information about their Aymara community in a blog. They developed familiarity and competence with the activity and uploaded their digital texts and images.

Aesthetics and Power  123

Figure 6.2 Top left: At the crop field; top right: Chaquitaclla, a traditional tool for removing soil; bottom left: The crop; bottom right: An Aymara house and animals

4. Discussion In order to understand ICT’s role in supporting the inclusion of cultural ­content—such as indigenous knowledge, languages, and culture—in the Peruvian educational system, the previous section presented the ICT’s inclusion at three levels (i.e. national, regional, and local). Each of these levels provides lessons and challenges.

4.1 At the National Level The Peruvian government gradually increased the inclusion of cultural content in the educational system throughout the 2010s. Its support mostly fostered indigenous bilingual education (IBE) in the whole nation and issued important policies in this area, thus increasing intercultural awareness. Also, several indigenous languages have been rescued, reinforced, and introduced as part of teachers’ training nationwide (Ministry of Education, 2016). There have also been continuous efforts to develop digital text materials for teachers

124  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

and to provide national online training to teachers through the educational portal PeruEduca (Ministry of Education, 2019b). This initiative is laudable because it contributes to the visibility of material written in indigenous languages (Lattimore, 2017). However, there is still a lack of digital resources for indigenous students, especially those including multimedia such as animations, audio clips, or videos related to indigenous contexts. It should be highlighted that multimedia resources allow the dissemination of indigenous digital content, because it incorporates the oral and visual elements of indigenous cultural knowledge. In addition, multimedia resources are more appealing to young users (Ferguson, 2006). Importantly, according to Bhatta’s (2008) classification, the Ministry of Education is offering only ICT content that is based on a platform or digital library. Clearly, there is still a need to produce more interactive audiovisuals with indigenous content. Regardless, the digital educational resources offered by the Peruvian government have gradually begun to include more digital materials for teachers, creating awareness about indigenous language, knowledge, and culture.

4.1.1 Achievements •

Indigenous languages have been given more visibility in cyberspace, and cultural diversity and interculturality have been valued. • Online training on indigenous language skills was given to teachers throughout the country.

4.1.2 Challenges •

There remains a lack of audiovisual and multimedia learning materials that are appealing to young students.

4.2 At the Regional Level At the regional level, the example shows an innovative approach for developing a regional curriculum that incorporates indigenous knowledge and culture. The example presented went beyond the expectations and led to a comprehensible, detailed, and relevant curriculum for all school subjects,

Aesthetics and Power  125

with the participation of regional indigenous stakeholders through several revisions and refinements to reach a consensus. Regrettably, there were power struggles in reconciling the regional initiatives and national policies because the regional initiatives did not have the support of the centralized government which imposed a national curriculum. Moreover, proponents of the regional initiatives were unable to secure the financing needed for their implementation in all regional schools (Figueroa Díaz, 2016). As a result, there is little regional ICT content in Aymara, and the limited Aymara resources that do exist were developed by only a few teachers, who created learning designs for their own classrooms. The regional curriculum discussed previously provided a space and voice for indigenous people by incorporating their knowledge, culture, and viewpoints. Alternatives to developing ICT educational resources that would not face budget limitations include using open resources such as Wikipedia (2020) in Aymara or to create a multistakeholder partnership with regional universities and NGOs to develop audiovisual resources for young students that include topics related to Aymara culture.

4.2.1 Achievements • •

The importance of the participation of several indigenous stakeholders was realized. The local heritage was appreciated and recognized in an intercultural context.

4.2.2 Challenges • •

There exists a lack of government financial support in the budget. There is a lack of context-relevant ICT resources.

4.3 At the Local School Level ICT can be used by students to create digital content to express their indigenous identity and to demonstrate valuing of their own culture and heritage (Kral, 2010). In this way, indigenous students are not merely passive consumers but instead have the opportunity to create content that shows the rich aesthetic of the Aymara culture, such as arts, worldviews, and religious

126  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

festivities. In this example, students became empowered as they saw their own positive contributions to the dissemination of digital content related to Aymara knowledge and ways of life. The major challenge to ICT at the local school level is the lack of access to the Internet. This is due to the Peruvian geography that acts as a logistical barrier and poses several challenges to initiatives that require infrastructure for basic services such as drinking water, electricity, and transportation. Thus, the Internet is a luxury in rural areas. This situation creates disadvantages for indigenous students regarding their ability to access online resources and materials and to share their own content. Nevertheless, according to Bhatta’s (2008) classification, the educational digital content that has been created by students themselves corresponds to the higher type of digital content. This gives ownership and empowers indigenous students in affirming and strengthening their indigenous identity and culture. It should be highlighted that the Internet’s values are mainly of those who have built the devices and those who have access to create content on Internet. The values of those without Internet access are minimized or completely ignored. Therefore, it is important for indigenous people to participate in the creation of digital content and also to be part of building digital devices.

4.3.1 Achievements •

Support was provided to indigenous students so that they could create their own digital resources, which gave them a sense of ownership and empowerment.

4.3.2 Challenges •

There is a lack of access in rural areas to the Internet, which is essential for dissemination of cultural expression.

In sum, the three examples discussed in this chapter show that governments should promote cultural diversity, by inviting indigenous people to participate in developing digital content related to their indigenous cultures, values, and worldviews. This is similar to what Guadamuz (2007) asserted about ICT content: “each country must  .  .  . look towards developing content as well, perhaps even involving the communities in that same purpose” (p. 17). Moreover, Bhatta (2008) states that content is important and goes hand in hand with the context. Furthermore, the important role of ICT is highlighted

Aesthetics and Power  127

in providing access to indigenous cultures by including content about these cultures on the Internet. In the case of Aymara people in the Peruvian educational system, understanding the interplay of power systems and intercultural awareness is critical for promoting cultural diversity and empowering indigenous people.

5. Conclusion ICT have had a growing influence in our societies, including their potential to impact the status of indigenous knowledge and culture. This is the case because ICT can increase the visibility of indigenous languages, culture, and worldviews that constitute multicultural learning ecologies. ICT could enable diversity related to points of view and promote cultural diversity. This is a task that ICT can accomplish, given that indigenous youth are now gradually being introduced to digital culture (Kral, 2010; Lattimore, 2017; UNESCO/ IFAP, 2015). To promote sustainable initiatives, it is crucial to provide opportunities for indigenous people to create, adapt, and reuse the cultural content of digital resources to better serve their needs for self-expression, thus strengthening their indigenous identity and sense of ownership (Hornberger, 1987; Guadamuz, 2007; Dyson, 2011). In order to overcome the hegemony of dominant values in mainstream education that have produced a systemic marginalization of indigenous cultures, it is important to include the participation of indigenous people in the curriculum development process. Indigenous people also need the opportunity to be designers of digital content and new devices, as this would empower them to express their values and give them an active presence in the digital world ( Jenkins et al., 2006; UNESCO/IFAP, 2015).

Issue in Brief In the Peruvian context, there is an interplay of aesthetics from the perspective of culture (theology, philosophy, ethics, art and folklore) and power from the perspective of exclusion and inclusion of different viewpoints and values. ICT plays a background role, fostering the building of social cohesion for a sustainable cultural life, especially regarding hidden counter-narratives of minority groups. This chapter helps to deepen our understanding and awareness of the several challenges and opportunities in developing societies that seek to tolerate and promote a multiplicity of values and cultures that are critical for supporting and empowering indigenous people.

128  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco

Key Messages • Technology has a role in providing access to multicultural ecological diversity in education. • The empowerment of indigenous ethnic groups whose voices are hidden within the education system is paramount to effectively advance social cohesion, stability, and development. • The achievements and challenges of implementing initiatives that foster the inclusion of cultural content in ICT-supported education indicate that there is still the need to continue working on strengthening cultural and ecological sustainability.

Reflection Questions •

•

•

What lessons were learned from the implementation of ICT initiatives implemented at different educational levels for the inclusion of cultural content in the Peruvian system? How could you use ICT-supported education to build social cohesion in your own school, city, and country? What are the challenges, and how could you overcome them? Regarding aesthetics and power, what other examples could you offer to show the potential of ICT for providing sustainability and autonomy to people and communities who are underrepresented in the global context?

Acknowledgments The author would like to offer special thanks to the Peruvian Ministry of Education and Puno Regional Directorate of Education for their contributions, and to the Aymara students for their participation.

References Arnsdorff Hidalgo, M. A. (2006). Comunidades andinas aymaras. Coexistência e Modernização: A Nação Aymara contra a Nação boliviana. [Aymara Andean communities. Coexistence and modernization: The Aymara nation against the Bolivia nation] (Doctoral Dissertation). Brazil: Universidad Federal do Rio de Janeiro. Battiste, M. (2002). Indigenous knowledge and pedagogy in First Nations education: A literature review with recommendations. Ottawa, Canada: National working on education and the Minister of

Aesthetics and Power  129 Indian Affairs. Indian and Northern Affairs Canada [INAC]. Retrieved from www.afn.ca/ uploads/files/education/24._2002_oct_marie_battiste_indigenousknowledgeandpeda gogy_lit_review_for_min_working_group.pdf Bellido, M. E. (2012). Qoyllurit’i, una peregrinación que mueve montañas [Qoyllurit’i, a pilgrimage that moves mountains]. Lima, Peru: Culturande—Portal Cultural de la Comunidad Andina. Retrieved from www.culturande.org/Upload/2012625102420 QOYLLURITI.pdf Bhatta, S. D. (2008). Tackling the problems of quality and disparity in Nepal’s school education: The OLPC model. Studies in Nepali History and Society, 11(1), 17–47. Branca, D. (2018). La nación Aymara existe: Narración, vivencia e identidad aymara en el departamento de Puno, Perú. [The Aymara nation does exists: Narration, experience and Aymara identity in the Puno department, Peru] (Doctoral Dissertation). Spain: Autonomous University of Barcelona. CARE Perú. (2019). Quiénes somos [Who we are]. Retrieved from www.care.org.pe/ quienes-somos/care-en-el-peru/ Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). (2020). The world fact book. Peru. Retrieved from www. cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/pe.html Central Reserve Bank of Peru. (2019). Nota informativa. 20 setiembre 2019 [Informative Note. September  20, 2019]. Retrieved from www.bcrp.gob.pe/docs/Transparencia/ Notas-Informativas/2019/nota-informativa-2019-09-20.pdf Chowell, G., Munayco, C. V., Escalante, A. A., & McKenzie, F. E. (2009). The spatial and temporal patterns of falciparum and vivax malaria in Peru: 1994–2006. Malaria Journal, 3(142). https://doi.org/10.1186/1475-2875-8-142 Collado, J. (2013). Transdisciplinary education as ethic of the diversity reform in the worldsociety of the 21st century. In Global education magazine. Almansa, Spain: Educar para Vivir. Cristiá, J. P., Ibarraran, P., Cueto, S., Santiago, A.,  & Severin, E. (2012). Technology and child development: Evidence from the One Laptop per Child program. InterAmerican Development Bank-IDB [Working paper series No. IDB-WP-304]. Working Paper IDBWP-304, Inter-American Development Bank, Washington, DC. Dyson, L. (2011). Indigenous peoples on the internet. In C. Ess & M. Consalvo (Eds.), The Handbook of Internet Studies (pp. 251–269). Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell Publishing. Ferguson, G. (2006). Language planning and education. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Figueroa Díaz, M. (2016, October). Construcción del Proyecto Curricular Regional de Puno [Constructing the Puno Regional Curriculum Project]. Tarea, 92, 54–56. Fiske, S. T. (2001). Effects of power on bias: Power explains and maintains individual, group, and societal disparities. In A. Y. Lee Chai & J. A. Bargh (Eds.), The use and abuse of power: Multiple perspectives on the causes of corruption (pp. 181–193). Philadelphia, PA: Psychology Press. Fonseca, X., Lukosch, S., & Brazier, F. (2019). Social cohesion revisited: A new definition and how to characterize it. Innovation: The European Journal of Social Science Research, 32(2), 231–253. Gay, G. (2004). Beyond Brown: Promoting equality through multicultural education. Journal of Curriculum & Supervision, 19(3), 193–216. Graves, C., & Cabieses, F. (Eds.). (2001). The potato treasure of the Andes: From agriculture to culture. Lima, Peru: International Potato Center.

130  Sdenka Zobeida Salas-Pilco Guadamuz, A. (2007). The digital divide: It’s the CONTENT, Stupid! Computer and Telecommunications Law Review, 304, 73–77. Gudykunst, W. B. (2003). Cross-cultural and intercultural communication. Thousand Oaks: Sage. Gurstein, M. (2007). What is community informatics (and why does it matter)? (Vol. 2). Milan: Polimetricasas. Hannerz, U. (1990). Cosmopolitans and locals in world culture. Theory, Culture & Society, 7(2–3), 237–251. Hartwig, M. (2015). Dictionary of critical realism. New York: Routledge. Hornberger, N. H. (1987). Bilingual education success, but policy failure. Language in Society, 16(2), 205–226. Incirlioglu, E. O., & Tandogan, Z. G. (1999). Cultural diversity. Public space, aesthetics and power. European Journal of Intercultural Studies, 10(1), 51–61. Jenkins, H., Clinton, K., Purushotma, R., Robison, A., & Weigel, M. (2006). Building the field of digital media and learning. Confronting the challenges of participatory culture: Media education for the 21st Century. [White paper]. Chicago: The MacArthur Foundation. Kral, I. (2010). Plugged in: Remote Australia indigenous youth and digital culture. Center for Aboriginal Economic Policy Research [CAEPR Working Paper No.69/2010]. Canberra: The Australian National University. Lattimore, S. (2017). A comparative analysis of indigenous bilingual education policy and practice in Australia and Peru (BA Honours thesis). Australia: The Australian National University. Llanque, D. (2004). Vida y teologia andina [Andean life and theology]. Cusco, Peru: Centro Bartolomé de Las Casas. Loach, K., Rowley, J., & Griffiths, J. (2017). Cultural sustainability as a strategy for the survival of museums and libraries. International Journal of Cultural Policy, 23(2), 186–198. Ministry of Culture. (2017). Decreto Supremo N° 005–2017-MC. Implementación de la Política Nacional de Lenguas Originarias, Tradición Oral e Interculturalidad [Supreme Decree N° 005–2017-MC. Implementation of the National Policy of Original Languages, Oral Tradition and Interculturality]. Retrieved from www.gob.pe/institucion/cultura/ normas-legales/206195-005-2017-mc Ministry of Education. (2007). Evaluación Censal de Estudiantes 2006 (ECE 2006) [Census Evaluation of Students 2006]. Oficina Nacional de la Medición de la Calidad de los Aprendizajes. Retrieved from http://umc.minedu.gob.pe/evaluacion-censal-deestudiantes-2006-ece-2006/ Ministry of Education. (2013). Hacia una educación intercultural bilingüe de calidad. Propuesta pedagógica. [Towards a quality bilingual intercultural education. Pedagogical proposal] Retrieved from www.minedu.gob.pe/minedu/archivos/a/002/01-general/2-propu esta_pedaggogica_eib_2013.pdf Ministry of Education. (2015). Plan Nacional de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe. Matriz de Planificación Estratégica. [National Intercultural Bilingual Education Plan. Strategic Planning Matrix]. Retrieved from http://repositorio.minedu.gob.pe/handle/123456789/3791 Ministry of Education. (2016). Plan Nacional de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe al 2021 [National Bilingual Intercultural Education Plan towards 2021]. Retrieved from http:// repositorio.minedu.gob.pe/handle/123456789/5105 Ministry of Education. (2019a). PeruEduca. Sistema digital para el aprendizaje [PeruEduca. Digital system for learning]. Retrieved from www.perueduca.pe/sistemadigital/ perueduca-web

Aesthetics and Power  131 Ministry of Education. (2019b). PeruEduca. Aula virtual [PeruEduca. Online classroom]. Retrieved from http://aulavirtual.perueduca.pe/ Mitchell, D. E., Crowson, R. L., & Shipps, D. (Eds.). (2011). Shaping education policy: Power and process. New York: Routledge. Montenegro, E. C. R. (2008). On the road towards empowerment: Ayllu-community values and practices in an urban setting. The case of the community of urban Aymaras of Pampajasi (Doctoral Dissertation). Eugene: University of Oregon. Muñoz, S. M., & Chiroque Solano, H. A. (2009). La economía comunitaria en la nación aymara. Una ética para la reproducción de la vida [The communitarian economy in the Aymara nation. An ethics for the reproduction of life]. Otra Economia, 3(5), 125–145. National Institute of Statistics and Informatics. (2019). Censos nacionales 2017: XII de población, VII de vivienda y III de comunidades indígenas [National Census 2017: XII of Population, VII of Households, III of Indigenous Communities]. Retrieved from http://censos2017.inei.gob.pe/redatam/ Ott, M., & Pozzi, F. (2010). Towards a new era for cultural heritage education: Discussing the role of ICT. Computers in Human Behavior, 27(4), 1365–1371. Regional Directorate of Education—Puno. (2009). Proyecto Curricular Regional de Puno [Regional Curriculum Project of Puno]. Puno: Altiplano E.I.R.L. Retrieved from www. care.pe/pdfs/cinfo/libro/EDU_014_procurreg.pdf Regional Directorate of Education—Puno. (2011). Proyecto curricular regional de Puno. Sistematización de su proceso de construcción [Regional curriculum project of Puno. Systematization of its building process]. Puno: Editorial Altiplano E.I.R.L. Salas-Pilco, S. Z. (2014). ICT in Peruvian education: An overview of its development. In N. Cheung, L. Fang, & L. Jiang (Eds.), Research studies in education (Vol. 12, pp. 92–101). Hong Kong: The University of Hong Kong. Salas-Pilco, S. Z. (2019). Introducing technology into learning designs for indigenous contexts. Interaction Design and Architecture(s) Journal—IxD&A, 41, 62–77. Schachner, M. K. (2019). From equality and inclusion to cultural pluralism—Evolution and effects of cultural diversity perspectives in schools. European Journal of Developmental Psychology, 16(1), 1–17. Servindi. (2013, March). Una de cada cinco escuelas en el Perú es EIB [One in five schools in Peru is IBE]. Retrieved from www.servindi.org/actualidad/83767 The World Bank. (2020). The world bank in Peru. Overview. Retrieved from www.world bank.org/en/country/peru/overview UNESCO/IFAP. (2015). Linguistic and cultural diversity in cyberspace. In Proceedings of the 3rd International Conference, compiled by E. Kuzmin, A. Parshakova, D. Ignatova. Moscow: Interregional Library Cooperation Centre. Retrieved from www.ifapcom. ru/files/2015/khanty/yak_mling_2015.pdf van Laar, E., van Deursen, A. J., van Dijk, J. A., & de Haan, J. (2017). The relation between 21st-century skills and digital skills: A systematic literature review. Computers in Human Behavior, 72, 577–588. Wikipedia. (2020). Nayriri uñstawi. Retrieved from https://ay.wikipedia.org/wiki/ Nayriri_uñstawi

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems in ICT-Enabled Education

7

Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, Edwin Blake, Donovan Maasz, Chris Muashekele, Peter Gallert, Colin Stanley, and Alphons Kahuhu Koruhama

1. Introduction In this chapter, we will argue for a shift in perspectives concerning indigenous people and contemporary education systems, repositioning indigenous knowledge systems (IKS) in society, and accordingly suggesting an ICT-enabled integration of IKS in education. We support our claims with insights from our long-term local collaborations with indigenous people (IP) in Namibia. Our case studies present examples of encounters between elements of mainstream knowledge societies and indigenous people of the Ovahimba tribe. The Ovahimba (singular: Omuhimba) are one of the few tribes which have maintained much of their traditional cultural practices till today (Bollig  & Gewald, 2000). They are semi-nomadic pastorals in northern Namibia, in Southern Africa. Like many other indigenous tribes, they

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  133

are concerned with the lack of indigenous knowledge (IK) transfer to the next generation, having lost an entire generation of village youths to formal schooling and urbanization. Sharing this concern, the authors of this chapter, home in Southern Africa, have been engaged in co-designing tools to safeguard indigenous knowledge under these circumstances. This chapter contributes a viewpoint from the Global South. First, we insist on a shift in perspectives concerning the challenges of indigenous people with contemporary education systems. Indigenous people have been considered as deficient and ‘at risk’ learners in many parts of the world, whereby ‘support’ programs were conceptualized as remedies, without questioning the educational system as such (Mushiba  & Tutaleni, 2015). However, upon changing stereotypically deficient viewpoints, we argue, on the other hand, that contemporary national education systems are not merely inimical to indigenous knowledge systems but also are actively destructive. Contemporary education systems are inimical to the interests of IKS because of the differing views of what constitutes valid knowledge as well as debate over what is within the purview of knowledge that can be gained at schools and universities. Our collaborators in the indigenous communities have said, without exaggerating, that the current national education system is the biggest cause of the destruction of IK, claiming, “Western Education is killing our Indigenous Knowledge system” (U. Mbinge, personal communication, May 18, 2019). Meanwhile, IK has gained recognition in the resolution of global and local issues, providing sustainable and viable solutions in various sectors such as health (Cheikhyoussef, Shapi, Matengu,  & MuAshekele, 2011) and nature conservation (Vitos et al., 2017; Ziegler, 2019), to name just a few. Notwithstanding the significance of IK, it still has not been recognized in formal education systems (Salas-Pilco, 2019) and has been systemically excluded from repositories, such as Wikipedia (Gallert  & van der Velden, 2015). In development thinking, IK has been reduced to practical techniques and artifacts, while in scientific interpretations, it has been stripped of important details and contextual information that are critical to indigenous epistemologies (van der Velden, 2010). Underlying philosophies and research paradigms, such as Ubuntu and Afrocentricity, have been disconnected from mainstream empirical work and considered as theoretical lenses only (Mkabela, 2005). Thus, we suggest a radical paradigm shift toward research and development work that embraces a blending of epistemologies, and that will serve to recognize contributions from indigenous people through repositioning IKS. Unfortunately, only a few nations have attempted to integrate IKS within mainstream educational or research institutes, such as South Africa

134  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

(Le  Grange, 2007), Kenya (Owuor, 2007), and Australia (Nakata, 2011). Moreover, only practices and techniques that operate clearly within a crosscultural approach—and that can also be perceived and represented from an ethnocentric perspective—are represented and digitized (WinschiersTheophilus, Bidwell, & Blake, 2012). Our conceptualization and our vision of the world is one that it is inextricably based in an embodied, and therefore partial, perspective that makes us personally responsible for it (Suchman, 2002). Thus we note that, “any representation with new media and technology is a construction of a new reality by the people involved in the design, the technology and the usage context” (Winschiers-Theophilus, Jensen, & Rodil, 2012, p. 458). Digitization processes and technologies are far from being neutral, as the designers and developers have tacitly incorporated their values and practices into the technologies. This presents a major challenge in developing digital tools in one location and transferring it to user groups from another cultural background (Winschiers-Theophilus & Bidwell, 2013). Technologies designed within a Western epistemology implicitly encompass, replicate, and enact their own Western biased logics (Dourish & Bell, 2011; Christie, 2004). This means that learning technologies developed within a Western context provide affordances that emphasize values, aims, and methods of a Western education system (Traxler, 2019). For example, e-readers allow for convenient carrying and reading of multiple books on the go, reflecting a Western commuter reading culture— search engines, dictionaries, and encyclopedias are all deeply embedded in a dominant written knowledge society. Few educational advances and even fewer technology developments and innovations are attributed to indigenous people. We argue that learning technologies must be co-created within local learning ecologies in order to manifest required affordances in support of values, methods, and content of IKS that can then enrich global education.

2.  Shifting Perspectives Much has been published on challenges of indigenous learners in coping within mainstream education systems around the world, whether in primary, secondary, or tertiary institutions. Indigenous learners are often regarded as suffering from some deficiency (Mushiba  & Tutaleni, 2015). This state of affairs brings to mind the famous quote, “Everybody is a genius. But, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid” (Quote Investigator, n.d.). This quote

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  135

demonstrates what could be perceived as a fundamental flaw and a discriminatory approach within mainstream education systems—a failing to acknowledge the diversity of skill and knowledge that is most relevant in particular locales. This observed divergence is becoming now more significant than ever in an increasingly holistic and connected world that is striving for global sustainability. To extend the fish metaphor, besides climbing trees, swimming has become an essential skill in our globalized world, and it is therefore high time that we all learn to swim before the last skillful fish disappears.

2.1 Deliberation by an Omuhimba Youth To portray an indigenous perspective, we first share a personal contemplation by our indigenous Ovahimba youth co-author, on the perceived tensions between his formal education and indigenous cultural identity. Further, concerns raised by Ovahimba community elders and parents regarding the national school system lead us to inspect local national educational systems and global knowledge repositories, such as Wikipedia, with respect to their incorporation of indigenous knowledge systems. Being one of the indigenous youths who went through formal education I have seen how we deride our IK in our daily life. We spend most of our time in the cities in search of education and employment rather than in the village. This leads to inescapable loss of our core cultural values. Inherently we are robbed of our IK. We prefer to write, read, and speak English fluently as a symbol of intelligence. Some of us who have become culturally awakened have relearned our IK as we try to balance it with modern knowledge. However, we are facing bigger criticism from our peers, it comes in different ways, and it affects our friendships with other youth and becomes a hindrance to formulate relationships because we are regarded as old fashioned. No other tribe wants to associate with us, this discourages many youths from relearning their IK. We are then at a crossroad: neither truly indigenous nor truly modern. This imbalance creates a self-imposed inferiority complex among the indigenous youth, which has become so entrenched in the psyche that we do not even know ourselves anymore. We refuse to write or read in our mother tongue. When we visit the village on different occasions, our elders often use a general greeting etiquette, by which every local person has to narrate their

136  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

patrilineal (oruzo) and matrilineal (eanda) system of relating families to share their eanda as a form social bond before detailed discussions, which most of us failed to do. However, this always surprised our elders that most of the youth they encountered do not know their eanda, which make our elders think that we became stupid after going to school. Knowing IK is a survival toolkit in our community, not knowing simple general etiquette to our elders becomes concerning, as the risk of starvation or sickness increases out in the field. This is a clear indication to the elders that the youth have lost their identity and self-dignity as part of the community. Therefore, we are perceived by the elders as disrespectful towards age, values, and knowledge the community reveres. This worries the elders that we will be lost and have divided generations. Respecting elders is key in acquiring knowledge; one must be humble to learn better. In the village knowledge was being passed informally from elders to young ones around the fire in the evening or the afternoon under the tree. Teaching was in the form of storytelling or during a conversation of elders if there’s an incident of someone sick, then the elders will tell you what to do if you find yourself sick what you should do or eat to heal you. When you come to nature, we were told not to graze animals on only one side of the plot because animal’s hoofs can destroy the field and overgraze. Therefore, we were told to have a grazing rotation. We were told during the storytelling how to escape wildlife that can threaten our lives. For example, we were told if a rhino chases you, you must make a U-shaped turn because the rhino cannot make a U turn. And we were told to read the wind direction when we saw an elephant to find out where the wind is blowing to, by taking soil in your hands and dropping it, you have to check where the direction the dust is blowing. The elder will demonstrate how to do that and if the wind is blowing towards the elephant you must change direction because you have to avoid the elephants getting your smell if they can’t get your smell you can get closer than 100m without them doing anything to you. All this information in the school is shared differently from how it was being shared to us at home. School cannot teach you how to read the wind using soil, but it will rather teach you that the elephant can kill you. Information in schools are passed through formal education and it lacks practicality in some cases. (Alphons Kahuhu Koruhama, a 32-year-old Omuhimba youth from northern Namibia)

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  137

Figure 7.1 Omuhimba youth author and co-authors staging experienced reactions in South Africa Photo: Alphons Kahuhu Koruhama

2.2 Concerns Raised by Ovahimba Parents In a discussion with Uariaike and Kambindja, two indigenous Ovahimba elders (May 2019), the elders revealed what they have observed as the negative impact of formal education on the indigenous youth. Ovahimba (indigenous) school learners wearing their traditional clothes are chased out of school to go home to change their traditional attire because they make desks dirty due to their red ochre full-body lotion (Otjize). Home could be in a village far away posing the first difficulty. Second, switching from traditional to school attire can be a time-consuming and challenging task because of the embodied nature of the traditional attire. The request not to wear traditional attire has been regarded as most offensive towards the Ovahimba culture, wherein the traditional clothes and accessories have significant values and meanings. Undoubtedly, this situation leads to an unresolved dilemma for children. Moreover, the official language of teaching in schools is English, which is foreign to the indigenous learners. The discrimination against traditional values and the use of indigenous language leads the youth to reject IK, thinking the formal education knowledge is superior. The elders continue to explain that children change behaviors and show cultural ignorance when they come for a holiday. These sentiments confirm the data Hailombe (2011) gathered during his study investigating equity and quality of Namibian school systems, more specifically mobile schools for nomadic learners of the Ovahimba and

138  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

Ovazemba tribes. The researcher found that parents were dissatisfied with their ‘changed’ children when they came back, being disrespectful and useless, having learned smoking and abusing alcohol (Hailombe, 2011). School attendance in the region inhabited by the Ovahimba is reported to be only 56.2 percent (UNICEF, 2011). Importantly, by introducing changed values, by eliminating traditional dress codes and practices, and by failing to teach relevant local skills, formal education may well be viewed as contributing to the extinction of indigenous knowledge systems. Uariaike and Kambindja (May 2019) proposed possible remedies in this predicament, such as allowing their children to be taught in their traditional attire to maintain their dignity; employing more local indigenous teachers from the Ovahimba community, who understand and appreciate their own knowledge system and wear their traditional attire to be relatable to learners; and allowing IK to be part of the school curricula. This is in line with an academic publication recommending the review of curricula, instructional methods, and teacher training to promote IKS; respecting languages, culture, norms, and values; and creating meaningfulness through parental and community engagement with school (Matengu, Likando, & Haihambo, 2019).

2.3 Tensions Between Educational Systems Two types of educational systems are of relevance to the current discourse. We distinguish between formal Western, development-oriented education and informal indigenous education (Botha, 2010; Ng’Asike, 2019). These systems differ fundamentally in terms of philosophical assumptions, goals, and values. The contemporary national education offered is based on the promise that the system will transfer to individuals the skills necessary to compete in an idealized version of the globalized society. The underlying epistemology of Southern African contemporary education is that there is an objective world waiting for discovery that is destined for exploitation. Such education is generally devoid of pluralistic content, methods, and values (Baker, 2012). Instead, the implicit values imbued are those of discipline, competition, and getting ahead. This contrasts with a relational view of many African indigenous knowledge systems that are based on principles of conservation using a holistic approach operating within a non-disciplinary mode, not distinguishing subjects. Indigenous knowledge systems have an appreciation for interconnectedness whereby details in isolation are of lesser value (Boon  & Hens,

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  139

2007). Botha (2010) points out that indigenous knowledge has both a local and spiritual nature while Western formal knowledge tends toward the global and material. We postulate that since traditional/indigenous culture is not merely intellectual in nature, but is embodied and performed by the members of a given culture, educational requirements go beyond just the content of the material taught, but rather encompass cultural values, methods, and worldviews. Specific to our discussion, we observe the antagonism between Western (Eurocentric) and anti-colonial worldviews that is playing out in the educational sphere in Southern and Eastern Africa. In South Africa, the debate was ignited under the hashtags #FeesMustFall and #RhodesMustFall and has been pursued by a movement of decolonizing education. However, Reddy and Smith (2019) point out the irony of the extent to which the decolonization and subaltern narrative is framed in a Westernized rhetoric. Thus, the authors argue for a more authentic African alternative, building on an educational reform that has been promoting the introduction of IK into curricula (Botha, 2012). However, the inclusion of IK in the national curricula of modern African nation-states has been problematic in theory and practice. One suggestion, to include IK in contemporary formal education systems, is grounded in terms of Mouffe’s (2018) agonistic approach to politics as a way of dealing with antagonism and hegemony. Mouffe (2018) does not assume that consensus and rational conflict resolution is always going to be possible, but rather that the hegemony of the dominant authority may be challenged passionately but tolerantly. Mouffe’s paradigm of agonism was also advocated in the field of participatory design to return the field to its critical political roots (Björgvinsson, Ehn, & Hillgren, 2012) to achieve more democratic participation for heterogeneous and marginalized groups. The purpose is to create an environment where differences and controversies are allowed to exist and alternatives are explored. This approach is especially important in the context of an African educational system that has been anchored in virtues of ubuntu. Ubuntu (from the Zulu1), an African axiology, emphasizes principles of humanness, connectedness, and consciousness in human actions and interactions (Doke, 2017). It leads to a value-based approach in which learning is contextualized and meaningful for learners. Mbiti (1990) explains that a cardinal point in the African view of humanity involves understanding that “I am, because we are; and since we are, therefore I am” (Mbiti, 1990, p. 141). Ubuntu reflects a critical discourse. It introduces dimensions that Western discourses do not often associate with learning ecologies that include a temporality beyond an individual’s own life and an accountability to ancestors and descendants. Ubuntu

140  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

can be contrasted with agonism in that it always seeks to establish consensus. One has to straddle the tension between two approaches, agonistic and ubuntu. Both provide useful insights, but also present unresolved differences. In debates on the inclusion of indigenous approaches in Western education, there has been a plea for epistemological diversity in an ecology of knowledges (Baker, 2012; Santos, 2009). However, these discourses have been highly theoretical, with little guidance on how to realize such inclusion in practice. Meanwhile, Mozambique seems to have opted for an argumentative dialogue in introducing indigenous knowledge in their school curriculum (Castiano & Mkabela, 2014). Twenty percent of the teaching time is devoted to a local curriculum (LC), and the rest of the time is devoted to the national curriculum (NC) (Dhorsan, & Chachuaio, 2008). The topics in the LC are variable and determined by each local community. The aim is not to preserve traditional culture, but rather to make the school a place of interaction between local culture and new knowledge. Teachers at school bear much of the responsibility for consulting with the local community and developing the LC. The LC can be considered as complimentary and distinct, taught separately. We acknowledge that an epistemological and pedagogical inclusion of IKS into current established formal education systems is challenging on a theoretical and practical level, while IKS systems have not yet been repositioned in the wider public space.

3.  Repositioning Indigenous Knowledge Systems We observe an increased attention of IK in research and development projects around the globe, yet many recognize IK only as complementary—as merely adding value to the existing Western science. Headlines of popular articles ironically read “When Scientists ‘Discover’ What Indigenous People Have Known for Centuries” (Nicholas, 2018), illustrating the power relations within the knowledge systems and the lack of previous acknowledgment of orally transferred knowledge. An often-cited example is the ‘knowledge about the Hoodia plant,’ which San tribes from Southern Africa have used for centuries to suppress hunger and thirst while hunting. Yet the commercialization of Hoodia as a slimming product and appetite suppressant by foreign pharmaceutical industries has at first neither acknowledged the San as originators of the knowledge nor considered benefit sharing (Lee & Balick, 2007). IK is only recognized as knowledge once validated within a Western epistemology. But what if IK is challenging fundamental truths, contradicting established methods and results, or cannot explain causal effects in scientific

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  141

Figure 7.2  Ovahimba and University researchers Photo: Uariaike Mbinge

terms? Then IK easily gets dismissed as myth or belief, and is not recognized as knowledge. To illustrate these points, we share in the following sections: 1. An episode of ecologists’ encounters with indigenous people, exemplifying widespread sentiments. 2. The perceived inclusion of IK into global knowledge repositories, such as Wikipedia, demonstrating the superficiality and limitations of an epistemological fusion; further fostered biases in disruptive technologies, such as Artificial Intelligence (AI), hidden under the ‘neutral and objective’ umbrella of technologies and algorithms. 3. Afrocentricity challenging established research paradigms as well as concepts of truth and validity.

3.1 Ecologists Enkindled 3.1.1 Authors’ Encounter We present a recent encounter within a multidisciplinary nature conservation management project. Previously, involved ecologists had traveled to

142  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

communal areas to collect plant data and samples in isolation of locally residing indigenous community members. This was done under the assumption that community members are not formally trained and thus lacked the skills to identify endemic plants, lacked understanding of established scientific terminology, and could not conduct scientific data collections, such as growth rates, etc. Furthermore, collected plant samples were analyzed for active ingredients to determine uses that however had been long time established by local communities which had made use of the plants in the past. Local and indigenous communities often possess unique knowledge about the natural resources on which their livelihoods depend (Vitos et al., 2017). The project prescribed a collaborative approach to co-design conservation management tools with the Ovahimba communities, which the ecologists accepted with skepticism. A joint ethnobotanical walk from one of the collaborating communities was organized. As a means of reference, a tree and shrub book of Namibia, brought along by the researchers, proved to be very popular and useful as a communication tool between the researchers and the community. Researchers inquiring about specific plant species were guided to the occurrence location by community members, who recognized the plants either on the photos or by the local name indicated in the book. Community members eagerly made use of the book, and once at a plant location, they shared their knowledge with the researchers, adding additional information missing in the book, such as Ovahimba names, rituals, and additional uses. Researchers were truly amazed by the vast knowledge of the community members about their endemic plants. Plants not yet known to the ecologists were also visited and uses discussed. To leverage local knowledge, ecologists and technologists have to adopt participatory savvy methods (Ziegler, 2019). Thus, it was decided to create a joint and comprehensive digital endemic plant repository, merging published book entries and indigenous communities’ knowledge.

3.1.2 Authors’ Comments The inclusive design process of data collection and dissemination tools ensured that data sets are created and can be authored by alien ecologists and indigenous knowledge holders. Such collaborative projects facilitate mutual learning and knowledge sharing and creation around a subject of common interest. Having overcome initial concerns of communication and trust, all parties recognize the benefits of collaboration. At the point at which researchers and community members view each other as equal collaborators

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  143

lies opportunities for scientific and cultural discoveries that would have not been possible if the researchers and communities isolated themselves from each other. Yet the recognition of being equal partners still has a long way to go. Implicitly, current institutional established ethics regulations still suggest that indigenous communities are subjects rather than research partners, and thus have to sign informed consent forms rather than collaboration agreements (Goagoses, Winschiers-Theophilus, & Zaman, 2019). Even within this project, and despite recognizing indigenous people’s vast knowledge, they are labeled as ‘para-ecologists’ who are to be trained in scientific data collection.

3.1.3 The Encounter Continues Meanwhile, a number of community members and visiting researchers gathered around a freshly slaughtered goat, where the intestines were removed for prediction by renowned community intestine readers—an activity rooted in the Ovahimba culture. Numerous forecasts were made collectively concerning the village, the weather, and individuals. The prophecies were received with skepticism by the researchers, and the reading was classified as a myth rather than a scientific method. Only one of the researchers was cognizant of some scant research results on correlations between animal organs and weather forecasts. All others dismissed the validity of the readings, although the weather forecast predicting immediate drought followed by minimal rain was later confirmed, as well as the predicted death of two community members.

3.1.4 Authors’ Comments Acceptance of IK goes as far as it complements and fast tracks researchers’ endeavors, but once it is outside the established worldview, it often gets dismissed as belief.

3.2 Tensions Between Digital Knowledge Repositories and IKS Exclusion of IK is further perpetuated in digital systems, having been developed within a Western epistemology. Well-known examples are Wikipedia, as well as recent developments in Artificial Intelligence systems.

144  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

3.2.1 Wikipedia Wikipedia, despite its mission to collect “the sum of all human knowledge” (Miller, 2004, p. 1), suppresses indigenous knowledge on multiple levels. First, Wikipedia is not available in most indigenous languages. The reasons for this are manifold, including: 1) a computer literacy barrier that far exceeds the results of basic training; and 2) a threshold on minimum activity that speakers in the Global South are less likely to meet than those in the developed world. First of all, Mushiba, Gallert, and Winschiers-Theophilus (2016) state that Wikipedia readers become Wikipedia writers, and in indigenous languages, Wikipedia has neither (Koll, 2014). Second, Wikipedia’s writers are predominantly not indigenous. As many Wikipedians write about their own interests, expertise, and environment, indigenous topics are not high on the priority list of the people producing its content. Third, the manner in which knowledge on Wikipedia is distinguished from gossip or ornament places IK into the latter category. Valuable content for Wikipedia is information from written sources. Oral knowledge transfer is regarded as inferior, even though the reasoning for this rejection is questionable. Gallert and van der Velden (2015) explain this with the example of narratives that were given by the knowledge holder, translated, edited multiple times, and then published in a book or article. That academic writing is now a perfect source for Wikipedia, while the oral performance of the narratives will normally not be reflected. But consider that the acumen of researchers does not matter if they do not add to the narrative, the oral transfer of information has never been shown to be inferior to writing, and the editing and translating process is prone to errors that alter context and meaning. There is thus a plethora of related filters and hurdles that IK must pass in order to be accepted and documented by Wikipedia. One particularly destructive aspect is that even when IK is documented, it first has to be channeled through written sources, which then become referenced for existence and content of the indigenous narrative. Predominantly, these written sources are produced by outsiders to the indigenous community, who, apart from the general difficulty of conserving IK in textual form, introduce their own meanings and interpretations in the process of writing. This process is repeated once more when a Wikipedian reads the work and summarizes it for an article. IK has thus, if it ever makes it into Wikipedia, at least twice been filtered and reinterpreted by an outsider. It might be fair to say that the result is no longer indigenous (Gallert & van der Velden, 2015). Gallert (2014) described an experiment run in rural Omaheke region in eastern Namibia with the purpose of collecting oral IK in a form better palatable for Wikipedia editors. It addressed one of their major concerns about

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  145

oral sources of knowledge—that they are not deemed to be verifiable. Based on the assumption that core IK is not dependent on the speaker but rather rests in the community, oral citations giving the community location, the setting of the performance, the role of the speaker, and so on, were compiled and used to expand existing Wikipedia articles. Alas, as funding for this project was conditional on not enforcing by precedent new policies onto the editing community, the results were only made available in Wikipedia’s project space, i.e. on pages that are not visible when reading the online encyclopedia. Five years on, that is where they still sit (Wikipedia authors, 2015). Wikipedia’s IK-hostile procedures are remarkable because due to its enormous size and wide reach, the online encyclopedia has become hegemonic among all general-interest encyclopedias. This process has given it the ability to not only disseminate knowledge on never-before-experienced magnitude, but also to establish a bibliography of acceptable sources for human knowledge, namely those who have been used to write it. Ultimately, a hidden but powerful definition for knowledge is being produced: If it is not (even) on Wikipedia, it is not knowledge. IK, in this framework, clearly is not.

3.2.2 Biases in Artificial Intelligence AI has recently regained attention and is considered to be useful within many spectrums of life globally. Specific uses of AI lie in visual perception, classification, adaptive systems, speech recognition, and automation (Nayak  & Dutta, 2017). AI parameters are informed by datasets that are processed through machine learning algorithms. These datasets are taken from existing digitalized and mostly written data collections, such as Wikipedia, news articles, and many more. However, such systems mainly source Western datasets, leading to the development of Western-intuitive AI systems. These systems become exclusive, and thus not suitable for diverse contexts. Concerns have been raised in regard to the basis and logic that informs the design of algorithms and big data analytics (Crivellaro, Coles-Kemp, Dix, & Light, 2019). We thus, advocate for the collection and inclusion of IK datasets. IK is able to inform AI algorithms in creative and scientific spaces, such as arts, music, and medicine (Yeasmin, 2019). IK offers a different perspective that is yet to be extensively explored. These IK-influenced datasets will ensure lessbiased AI systems. The exclusion of IK in AI design further extends the digital divide (Crivellaro et al., 2019). For instance, Amazon’s home voice assistant system Alexa has the ability to understand frequently used phrases formulated by Western

146  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

users. However, it struggles to understand indigenous African phrases, given the limited datasets that are available within the indigenous context. We sternly postulate that the inclusion of the IK perspective can lead to novel technology designs within the AI spectrum. Importantly, IK value systems that are based on all things being equal (Aubrecht, Bawden, & Ballengee-Morris, 2017) speak to the inclusion of AI as a being of society. Given this stance, IK can contribute to the ethics and rules of engagement of AI.

3.3 Afrocentricity Catering for fundamentally different values and worldviews requires a significant shift in thinking. We need to deconstruct any conceptual framework that dislocates Africans and their knowledge system by maintaining a Western reference point. Asante (1991) proposed an Afrocentric paradigm as just such a new conceptualization—one from an African viewpoint. Such a position is critical in Africa, as researchers may misrepresent indigenous cultural practices and thus continue to perpetuate myths about indigenous African cultures (Mkabela, 2005). Adopting an Afrocentric method implies cultural, social, and intellectual immersion, as opposed to scientific objectivity (Mkabela, 2005). In our endeavors in rural Africa, we are continually reminded of an African worldview that is deeply rooted in a consciousness of connectedness with an overarching holistic approach. The existence of an African epistemology (Higgs, 2010) does not invalidate other ways of gaining knowledge. An Afrocentric research approach thus implies the existence of an African epistemology, although the specifics of such an epistemology remain contested. A  common theme is one of paying attention to African ways of creating knowledge in regard to deeper practical understanding and application of it. This is a methodological consideration, namely “community consensus building” as a valid method to provide design input and feedback rather than leaving the aggregation of individual statements to the technology designers only (Winschiers-Theophilus, Bidwell et  al., 2012, p.  2). Inclusive decisionmaking and participatory meetings are key traditions in rural African communities. Designers educated in more individualistic contexts raise objections to this ‘influencing’ of participants by their community and question the validity of non-individual options. This underlines the tension with a Western design perspective. The questions raised are not necessarily invalid and it must be clear that ‘a community,’ if such exists, is not a homogenous group. African traditions, however, include many time-consuming ways of building

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  147

consensus. Mkabela (2005) reminds us of the absurdity of analyzing indigenous knowledge with external methodologies. For example, many Western accounts of traditional healing have been reduced to knowledge of plant extractions subjected to scientific validation processes. The scientization of indigenous knowledge strips away the detailed, contextual, applied aspects of knowledge that might be crucial (van der Velden, 2010). The recognition of a holistic and spiritual view expressed in the relationship of the healer, the plant, the patient, and the environment has been deliberately devalued and ignored (Bidwell, Winschiers-Theophilus, Kapuire, & Rehm, 2011). In the process of this abstraction and modeling, it is not surprising to see the way in which current databases and repositories of so-called traditional medicine have erased fundamental links and views of the originating knowledge system. The knowledge is then represented episodically rather than preserving its semantic and contextual relevance (Bidwell et al., 2011).

4. Integration This section begins by exemplifying how indigenous people should be included as education partners in educational institutions, such as universities, the benefit being a more holistic and inclusive design of curricula worldwide that would realistically consider IP and IK as academic contributors in knowledge societies instead of as research subjects. This, in turn, will ensure appropriate attribution to IK and its resilient and valuable multidisciplinary contributions. With the rising interests globally in integrating technology into indigenous communities for collection and preservation of indigenous knowledge, opportunities are created for better conceptualization of indigenous knowledge systems worldwide. In conclusion to the section, we introduce community-based co-design (CBCD) as an overarching philosophy that not only engages epistemological differences but also integrates it into technology, by emphasizing communities cultural and societal value systems.

4.1 Indigenous Communities as Education Partners Including community elders as a source of knowledge into learning activities “allows the inclusion and validation of indigenous knowledge into mainstream formal education” (Salas-Pilco, 2019, p. 71). We propose a continual collaboration between educational institutions and indigenous communities.

148  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

Much has been deliberated on the benefits of university-community engagements promising a considerable yet distinct impact for both partners (Martinez, Mora,  & Reyes, 2013). Still today, it has been a challenge to define adequate university-community collaboration frameworks that can address issues of trust, mutual benefits and sharing, administration and management, evaluation, and measurement of impacts. We suggest long-term collaborations with indigenous and marginalized communities, comprising research, teaching and training, technology and policy development, and many other activities. Participatory action research provides a suitable platform to carry out projects beneficial for both parties (Kemmis, McTaggart, & Nixon, 2013) that can be integrated at all levels of education—be it primary, secondary, undergraduate, or postgraduate. Funding can be sourced if projects contribute to national development or are part of international niche areas. Of significance besides knowledge creation is the level of engagement with the community. Discourses revolving around postcolonial computing and ‘doing good’ unveil constructs of power relations and unequal collaborations (Rogers & Marsden, 2013). These relations are further fostered through outdated ethics guidelines that still consider community members as research subjects instead of education partners (Goagoses et  al., 2019). Thus, we advocate that communities that provide extended educational platforms for students’ learning and research activities should be recognized as such and relations be institutionalized. We argue further that collaborating with indigenous communities requires a fundamental reconceptualization of mainstream and traditional research and teaching paradigms. In most cases, indigenous communities are considered the object of study rather than research partners who over centuries have generated and disseminated their knowledge, just like universities. Indigenous knowledge systems have proven to be resilient and valuable in many disciplines, yet no formal recognition has been attributed. For example, very few indigenous epistemologies, methodologies, or methods feature in university curricula. Our learning from communities has often been narrowly focused on the defined engagement reduced to publishable research results. Teaching and learning strategies do not acknowledge community learnings besides formalized service-learning courses. Thus, neither curricular nor pedagogical approaches have embraced learning from community engagements. In order to foster communities as educational collaboration partners, we suggest that community members constitute representatives on university boards, like on the ethics boards; recognized wise elders become adjunct professors; and that short- and long-term benefits to the community become defined and incorporated into engagement strategies. It is essential that best

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  149

practices and lessons learned are systematically documented to inform further collaboration efforts. Surveys with stakeholders should be conducted regularly alongside the engagement. Thus, we welcome a systematic and collective effort of collecting best practices to acknowledge indigenous communities as educational partners in future educational institutions’ engagement strategies.

4.2 ICT as Integration Enabler for IKS Considering the ever-increasing affordances of ICT, and their ubiquitous applications in formal and informal learning ecologies, we postulate that such technologies provide novel opportunities to enable an integration of IKS into global learning and knowledge systems. Salas-Pilco (2019) sees a potential for the inclusion of indigenous learners’ worldviews and experiences, as well as new pedagogies through the use of ICT. IK could be anchored in learning systems and thereby disseminated globally. Besides the content, means of indigenous knowledge transfer, such as informal learnings in community settings (Bouvier, Battiste, & Laughlin, 2016), are now technically available and affordable. However, current technologies designed within a Western epistemology and conceptualization of learning are inadequate to fully integrate IKS, as discussed previously. In the following section, we illustrate considerations on how IKS can be integrated into new technologies.

4.2.1 Appropriation and Conceptualization of Technologies Embracing IKS Various indigenous communities have appropriated audiovisual media to convey their knowledge to wider audiences (Bidwell et al., 2011). Reconciling appropriated media with an African episteme must account for the situated nature of information transformation during that ongoing dynamic appropriation process. People create meanings with, and about, new representations consistent with their original concepts, values and beliefs, and contemporary culture (Bidwell et al., 2011). Traxler (2019) advocates that besides ensuring the use of locally suitable methods to explore indigenous communities’ learning, means, aspirations, and needs, the development of digital tools addressing those very same, in an innovative and locally appropriate manner, need to adapt indigenous pedagogies to the digital learning spaces. In other words, local learning ecologies are characterized by indigenous ways

150  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

of knowing that need to be reflected within contextually appropriate learning tools. For instance, Western traditions use outlined methods of temporal, spatial, and authorship referencing in transferring information to make information referable, while indigenous communities orientate spatially in social relations (Bidwell et al., 2011). Consequentially, learning tools mapping indigenous orientation systems would then be organized in a sociospatial manner. For example, an intergenerational three-dimensional (3D) graphic learning application we developed with rural communities in Namibia, intended to transfer traditional knowledge to urban youth, was redesigned in accordance with a locally meaningful categorization. Having realized that community members could not find the objects they were looking for within a categorization system created by a Western designer, a card sorting exercise with multiple representatives of the same culture—yet in different geographical locations—revealed a dominant sociogeographical organization of objects (Rodil, Rehm, & Winschiers-Theophilus, 2013). Thus, having implemented a spatially oriented user interface enabled the community members to ‘know’ where to access the objects and implicitly transferred this worldview to other users, who could learn the tribal regulations of movements, rituals, and the position of traditional objects within a homestead. Wikipedia as a knowledge repository also employs technology that reflects Western practices and collaboration patterns rather than those of indigenous communities. Gallert (2018) outlined a few of the cultural clashes and how to overcome them, some of which are just design preferences like the primacy of text over audiovisual content. Others are permanent configuration settings of the MediaWiki software on which the encyclopedia runs; for instance, the possibility of making anonymous edits, an idea that must seem absurd to indigenous communities, who validate information depending on who stated it. In other words, the identity of the knowledge holder editing Wikipedia would need to be known by the community in order to trust the information. But there are also restrictions that cannot easily be overcome and would require extensions of the software that are not yet in place; for example, the ability to congregate as a group or to look up the activities of others per location, users, and content. At this stage, however, these envisaged adaptations are speculations by outsiders and would need to be explored with indigenous communities.

4.2.2 Community-Based Co-Design of Technologies We claim that through the inclusion of indigenous people in a co-design process, we can develop culturally appropriate technological tools. We are

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  151

suggesting a transcultural approach aiming for plurality that can be realized through community-based co-design (CBCD) (Winschiers-Theophilus, Zaman, & Stanley, 2017). CBCD is a paradigm that combines action research and industrial design approaches with mutual education of participants (Blake, Tucker, Glaser, & Freudenthal, 2011). The paradigm is adapted to a community-oriented context, where all participants are seen as actors representing invested communities rather than as individuals. In this adaptation, ‘user-centered’ is extended to include an appreciation of community-centered factors and the ability to incorporate those into an iterative design process. When moving away from individualistic methods toward collective methods, several issues are foregrounded. We consider selecting individual participants to be a matter of power relations and control, which contests with concepts of autonomy and collectivity. Western designers tend to construct the participant group by selecting pre-categorized individuals and mediating discussion toward a valid set of views based on certain understandings of egalitarianism and individualized self. Further, the Western designer judges the correct aggregation of the distinct statements into a streamlined model. This implicitly undermines the manner in which communities achieve consensus and communicate ‘one’ view to the outside. CBCD allows an epistemological integration of embodied knowledge (Zaman  & Winschiers-Theophilus, 2015). It emphasizes community over individuals, implanting communities’ cultural and societal value systems in the technology. Essentially, what CBCD is achieving is a shared knowledge construction and learning within different dimensions.

4.3 Summary: Knowledge Society Embracing Indigenous People and Knowledge Systems This chapter has promoted a deeper appreciation for IKS, illustrating tensions between digital knowledge systems and IKS, and underscores the necessity to engage indigenous people in the design of learning tools to encompass not only indigenous content, but also underlying epistemologies and values. This chapter shares a viewpoint from the Global South contributing to a pluralistic knowledge society. Hall and Tandon (2017) define the concept of knowledge democracy as the importance of multiple knowledge systems, such as organic, spiritual and land-based systems, and frameworks arising from social movements and the knowledge of the marginalized or excluded (IP). Democratizing knowledge is about open access for the sharing of knowledge, making it a powerful tool for taking action in social movements to

152  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al.

deepen democracy and to struggle for a fairer and healthier world (Hall & Tandon, 2017). The only way the knowledge society can rise above the current discriminatory mindset and prevent an epistimicide of IKS is to embrace IP and their respective IKS on a communal level democratizing the concept of knowledge. We are promoting plurality and the fusion of epistemologies through a transcultural approach (Winschiers-Theophilus et al., 2017). This requires a heightened consciousness and open-mindedness toward different epistemologies and the ability to fuse those within newly created learning ecologies.

Issues in Brief There are misperceptions and deficiencies in thinking of indigenous people and indigenous knowledge in relation to formal education. This chapter addresses the undermining of IKS in knowledge society, the biases that exist in digital knowledge repositories and systems, and the lack of formal recognition of indigenous education and people. The chapter also contests the overall lack of engagement of indigenous people in the design of learning technologies, as well as the lack of integration of indigenous knowledge systems into the knowledge society.

Key Messages •

Formal education systems need to embrace plurality through the assimilation of indigenous knowledge systems. • Indigenous knowledge systems need to be acknowledged in their entirety in all spheres of the knowledge society. • It is important that indigenous communities are recognized as equal education partners. • Indigenous people are to be engaged in the design of learning tools, repositories, and algorithms to incorporate indigenous knowledge systems into the information and knowledge society.

Reflection Questions •

How could you (re)conceptualize formal education to shape global citizens to navigate in a pluralistic knowledge society?

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  153

• In what way(s) can technologies contribute to fast-tracking inclusive learning ecologies? • How can we ensure (more) indigenous people are involved in the design and development of learning systems and tools?

Acknowledgments We would like to acknowledge our Ovahimba collaborating communities, our university, and our funding partners (NRF, NCRST, WMF).

Note 1. Ubuntu is a word derived from the Nguni languages and it means humanness. Nguni languages are isiZulu spoken by the amaZulu, isiXhosa by amaXhosa, and isiNdebele seSewula (Southern Ndebele) by Ndebele people of South Africa, siSwati spoken by emaSwati of eSwatini (formerly known as Swaziland), Síphùthì spoken in Southern Lesotho, and siNdebele saseNyakatho (Northern Ndebele) spoken by Matabele people of Zimbabwe.

References Asante, M. K. (1991). The Afrocentric idea in education. The Journal of Negro Education, 60(2). doi:10.2307/2295608 Aubrecht, M., Bawden, H., & Ballengee-Morris, C. (2017). Earthworks rising—exploring, sharing, researching, and building community through teachers, parents, and learners. Proceedings of the International Conference on the Foundations of Digital Games—FDG, 17. doi:10.1145/3102071.3106351 Baker, M. (2012). Modernity/coloniality and Eurocentric education: Towards a post-occi dental self-understanding of the present. Policy Futures in Education, 10(1) http://dx.doi. org/10.2304/pfie.2012.10.1.4 Bidwell, N. J., Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Kapuire, G. K., & Rehm, M. (2011). Pushing personhood into place: Situating media in rural knowledge in Africa. International Journal of Human-Computer Studies, 69(10), 618–631. doi:10.1016/j.ijhcs.2011.02.002 Björgvinsson, E., Ehn, P., & Hillgren, P. A. (2012). Agonistic participatory design: Working with marginalised social movements. CoDesign, 8(2–3), 127–144. doi:10.1080/1571088 2.2012.672577 Blake, E., Tucker, W., Glaser, M., & Freudenthal, A. (2011). Deaf telephony: Community-based co-design. Interaction Design: Beyond Human-Computer Interaction, 1–48. Retrieved from https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/4079/1191a75bb36f25f3f4b430626b8632c55aab.pdf Bollig, M., & Gewald, J. B. (2000). People, cattle and land: Transformations of a pastoral society. People, Cattle and Land. Transformations of a Pastoral Society in southwestern Africa, 3(52).

154  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al. Boon, E. K., & Hens, L. (2007). Indigenous knowledge systems and sustainable development: Relevance for Africa (Vol. 1). New Delhi: Kamla Ray Enterprises. Botha, L. R. (2010). Indigenous knowledge as culturally-centred education in South Africa. Africa Education Review, 7(1), 34–50. doi:10.1080/18146627.2010.485804 Botha, L. R. (2012). Using expansive learning to include indigenous knowledge. International Journal of Inclusive Education, 16(1), 57–70. doi:10.1080/13603110903560093 Bouvier, R. I. T. A., Battiste, M., & Laughlin, J. (2016). Centring indigenous intellectual traditions on holistic lifelong learning. Indigenous Perspectives on Education for Well-Being in Canada, 21–40. Castiano, J. P., & Mkabela, Q. (2014). Towards an argumentative dialogue between local knowledge and official school curriculum: A case of local curriculum in Mozambique. Indilinga: African Journal of Indigenous Knowledge Systems, 13(1). Retrieved from www. ajol.info/index.php/indilinga/article/view/113767 Cheikhyoussef, A., Shapi, M., Matengu, K.,  & MuAshekele, H. (2011). Ethnobotanical study of indigenous knowledge on medicinal plant use by traditional healers in Oshikoto region, Namibia. Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine, 7(1). Christie, M. (2004). Computer databases and Aboriginal knowledge. International Journal of Learning in Social Contexts (1), 4–12. Retrieved from www.cdu.edu.au/centres/ik/ pdf/CompDatAbKnow.pdf Crivellaro, C., Coles-Kemp, L., Dix, A.,  & Light, A. (2019). Not-equal: Democratizing research in digital innovation for social justice. Interactions, 26(2), 70–73. doi:10.1145/3301655 Dhorsan, A.,  & Chachuaio, A. M. (2008). The local curriculum in Mozambique: The Santa Rita community school in Xinavane. Prospects, 38(2), 199–213. doi:10.1007/ s11125-008-9068-8 Doke, C. M. (2017). The Southern Bantu languages: Handbook of African languages (Vol. 19). Oxon and New York: Routledge. Dourish, P., & Bell, G. (2011). Divining a digital future: Mess and mythology in ubiquitous computing. doi:10.7551/mitpress/9780262015554.001.0001 Gallert, P. (2014). Workshop: Indigenous knowledge for Wikipedia. Proceedings of the 13th Participatory Design Conference: Short Papers, Industry Cases, Workshop Descriptions, Doctoral Consortium papers, and Keynote abstracts, 2. Gallert, P. (2018). Wikipedia for indigenous communities. Wikimania. Retrieved from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PG-Slides-Wikimania18.pdf Gallert, P., & van der Velden, M. (2015). The sum of all human knowledge? Wikipedia and indigenous knowledge. In At the intersection of indigenous and traditional knowledge and technology design (pp. 117–113). Santa Rosa, CA: Informing Science Press. Goagoses, N., Winschiers-Theophilus, H., & Zaman, T. (2019). Community protocols for researchers: Using sketches to communicate interaction guidelines. Ai & Society, 1–13. doi:10.1007/s00146-019-00914-x Hailombe, O. (2011). Education equity and quality in Namibia: A case study of mobile schools in the Kunene region (Dissertation). Retrieved from https://repository.up.ac.za/ handle/2263/24256 Hall, B. L., & Tandon, R. (2017). Decolonization of knowledge, epistemicide, participatory research and higher education. Research for All, 1(1), 6–19. doi:10.18546/RFA.01.1.02 Higgs, P. (2010). Towards an indigenous African epistemology of community in education research. Procedia—Social and Behavioral Sciences, 2(2), 2414–2421. doi:10.1016/j. sbspro.2010.03.347

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  155 Kemmis, S., McTaggart, R., & Nixon, R. (2013). The action research planner: Doing critical participatory action research. Singapore: Springer Science & Business Media. Koll, I. (2014). African language Wikipedias. WikiIndaba 2014. Retrieved from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:African_language_Wikipedias_-_Wikiindaba_2014_ (I_Koll).pdf Le Grange, L. (2007). Integrating western and indigenous knowledge systems: The basis for effective science education in South Africa?. International Review of Education, 53(5– 6), 577–591. Lee, R. A., & Balick, M. J. (2007). Indigenous use of Hoodia gordonii and appetite suppression. Explore, 3(4), 404–406. Martinez, D. F. C., Mora, H. G. C., & Reyes, J. I. P. (2013). ICT application from the perspective of university social responsibility. In P. Nielsen (Ed.), Proceedings of the 12th International Conference on Social Implications of Computers in Developing Countries. Norway: University of Oslo. Matengu, K., Likando, G., & Haihambo, C. (2019). Inclusive education in marginalised contexts: The San and Ovahimba learners in Namibia. Retrieved from http://repository.unam. edu.na/bitstream/handle/11070/2592/matengu_inclusive_2019.pdf ?sequence= 1&isAllowed=y Mbinge, U. (2019, May). Epupa conservancy. Lives in Otjisa. Indigenous knowledge and modern education. personal communication. Mbiti, J. (1990). African religions  & philosophy (2nd ed.). Oxford: Portsmouth, Heinemann. Miller, R. (2004, July). Wikimedia Founder Jimmy Wales Responds. Slashdot (28). Mkabela, Q. (2005). Using the Afrocentric method in researching indigenous African culture. The Qualitative Report, 10(1), 178–189. Retrieved from http://nsuworks.nova. edu/tqr/vol10/iss1/10/?utm_source= nsuworks.nova.edu/tqr/vol10/iss1/10&utm_ medium=PDF& utm_campaign=PDFCoverPages Mouffe, C. (2018). The affects of democracy. Retrieved from www.eurozine.com/ the-affects-of-democracy/ Mushiba, M., Gallert, P.,  & Winschiers-Theophilus, H. (2016). On persuading an ovaherero community to join the wikipedia community. IFIP Advances in Information and Communication Technology Culture, Technology, Communication. Common World, Different Futures, 1–18. doi:10.1007/978-3-319-50109-3_1 Mushiba, M., & Tutaleni, I. A. (2015). African pedagogy & technology-supported learning. In N. J. Bidwell & H. Winschiers-Theophilus (Eds.), At the intersection of indigenous and traditional knowledge and technology design (pp. 135–149). Santa Rosa, CA: Informing Science Press. Nakata, M. (2011). Pathways for indigenous education in the Australian curriculum framework. Australian Journal of Indigenous Education, 40, 1. Nayak, A.,  & Dutta, K. (2017). Impacts of machine learning and artificial intelligence on mankind. 2017 International Conference on Intelligent Computing and Control (I2C2). doi:10.1109/i2c2.2017.8321908 Ng’Asike, J. T. (2019). Indigenous knowledge practices for sustainable lifelong education in pastoralist communities of Kenya. International Review of Education, 65(1), 19–46. doi:10.1007/s11159-019-09767-4 Nicholas, G. (2018). When scientists “discover” what indigenous people have known for centuries. Retrieved from www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/why-science-takes-so-longcatch-up-traditional-knowledge-180968216/

156  Heike Winschiers-Theophilus, et al. Owuor, J. (2007). Integrating African indigenous knowledge in Kenya’s formal education system: The potential for sustainable development. Journal of Contemporary Issues in Education, 2(2). Quote Investigator. (n.d.). Everybody is a genius. But, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid. Retrieved from https://quoteinvestigator.com/2013/04/06/fish-climb/ Reddy, N. N., & Smith, M. N. (2019, July). How not to change a curriculum. Retrieved from https://africasacountry.com/2019/07/how-not-to-change-a-curriculum Rodil, K., Rehm, M.,  & Winschiers-Theophilus, H. (2013). Homestead creator: Using card sorting in search for culture-aware categorizations of interface objects. HumanComputer Interaction—INTERACT 2013 Lecture Notes in Computer Science, 437–444. doi:10.1007/978-3-642-40483-2_30 Rogers, Y.,  & Marsden, G. (2013). Does he take sugar? Moving beyond the rhetoric of compassion. Interactions, 20(4), 48–57. Salas-Pilco, S. Z. (2019). Introducing technology into learning designs for indigenous contexts. Interaction Design and Architecture(s), 41, 62–77. Santos, B. de S. (2009). A non-occidentalist west? Learned ignorance and ecology of knowledge. Theory, Culture & Society, 26(7–8), 103–125. Suchman, L. (2002). Located accountabilities in technology production. Scandinavian Journal of Information Systems, 14(2), 91–105. Retrieved from https://aisel.aisnet.org/cgi/ viewcontent.cgi?article=1082&context=sjis Traxler, J. (2019). Only connect: Indigenous digital learning. Interaction Design and Architecture(s), 41, 7–23. UNICEF. (2011). Improving quality and equity in education in Namibia: A trend and gap analysis. Retrieved from www.unicef.org/namibia/UNICEF_2011_Ninnes_Trends_and_ Gaps_final_combined.pdf Van der Velden, M. (2010). DESIGN FOR THE CONTACT ZONE Knowledge management software and the structures of indigenous knowledges. Proceedings of Cultural Attitudes Towards Communication and Technology. Retrieved from www.duo.uio.no/bitstream/handle/10852/41503/2/design-for-the-contact-zone22950.pdf Vitos, M., Altenbuchner, J., Stevens, M., Conquest, G., Lewis, J., & Haklay, M. (2017). Supporting collaboration with non-literate forest communities in the congo-basin. Proceedings of the 2017 ACM Conference on Computer Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing—CSCW, 17. doi:10.1145/2998181.2998242 Wikipedia authors. (2015). Oral citations experiment. Wikipedia (2014–2015). Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Oral_citations_experiment Winschiers-Theophilus, H., & Bidwell, N. (2013). Toward an afro-centric indigenous HCI Paradigm. International Journal of Human—Computer Interaction, 29(4), 243–255. doi:10. 1080/10447318.2013.765763 Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Bidwell, N. J.,  & Blake, E. (2012). Community consensus: Design beyond participation. Design Issues, 28(3), 89–100. doi:10.1162/desi_a_00164 Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Jensen, K.,  & Rodil, K. (2012). Locally situated digital representation of indigenous knowledge. Co-constructing a new digital reality in rural Africa. Proceedings Cultural Attitudes Towards Technology and Communication, 454–468. Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Zaman, T., & Stanley, C. (2017). A classification of cultural engagements in community technology design: Introducing a transcultural approach. Ai & Society, 34(3), 419–435. doi:10.1007/s00146-017-0739-y

Embracing Indigenous Knowledge Systems  157 Yeasmin, S. (2019). Benefits of artificial intelligence in medicine. 2019 2nd International Conference on Computer Applications  & Information Security (ICCAIS). doi:10.1109/ cais.2019.8769557 Zaman, T.,  & Winschiers-Theophilus, H. (2015). Penan’s Oroo’ short message signs (PO-SMS): Co-design of a digital jungle sign language application. HumanComputer Interaction—Interact 2015 Lecture Notes in Computer Science, 489–504. doi:10.1007/978-3-319-22668-2_38 Ziegler, M. (2019). Who breathes the smoke? Technologies for community-based natural resource management. Proceedings of the Fifth Workshop on Computing Within Limits— LIMITS, 19. doi:10.1145/3338103.3338107

Part III

Reflections on Positionality, Sustainability, and Design

 eflections From the R Boundary Spaces

8

Digitization of Intangible Cultural Heritage and the Co-Design of ICT Alongside Indigenous ­Communities in Namibia Kasper Rodil

1. Introduction For almost a decade, much of my research has been carried out in partnership with indigenous communities in Namibia (Rodil, 2016). The work has been orchestrated with participatory design as a collaborative methodology for designing meaningful computing systems for the purpose of transferring cultural heritage to indigenous urban-living youths. My objective was—and still is—to assist with technology development to create a bridge between rural-living elders (living curators of cultural heritage) and youths, who are not only far away from learning the often-situated practices and beliefs of indigenous origin, but who also are not interested in this heritage. As a Danish researcher venturing into this domain, it was quite obvious due to my cultural upbringing that I knew absolutely nothing about the cultural context in which these computing systems should function; neither can I claim to have known the cultural content for populating these systems.

162  Kasper Rodil

However, I had a lifelong fascination and curiosity about the boundary spaces where interactive systems and people meet, as well as a degree in constructing interactive systems. The elders (and other community members from different tribes) with whom I and primarily local researchers have collaborated over the years in Namibia knew little about computing systems, in general. Yet, these elders have lived long lives taking care of and living according to indigenous ways from which their community youths are becoming increasingly disconnected. For any meaningful output to emerge from these non-­ overlapping fields of knowledge, we would have to find a way of collaborating. Over the years, we have eagerly worked together—researchers from the design location or from other indigenous communities, non-indigenous nationals, foreign nationals, etc., and of course, community members representing the indigenous stakeholder side of the projects. Our participatory approach can best be understood as being guided by a transcultural approach to technology design and community interaction whereby all parties involved seek to engage with the designerly problem within a boundary space. As stated by Winschiers-Theophilus, Zaman, and Stanley (2017, p. 1), “when deeply immersed in joint design activities in long-term collaborations, we look beyond individual cultures and enter a transcultural mode of engagement.” Together, we have shared many great memories inside and outside of research agendas. Needless to say, these collaborations could only have happened by people welcoming colleagues and me into their communities. As well, the insights I have gained could not have happened in isolation, but are mutual products of working together. The points I wish to raise in this chapter are reflected and formulated over those many years working with indigenous groups in Namibia.

2. Participatory Design: A Scandinavian Design and Research Methodology for Designing ICT With Stakeholders Participatory design (PD)—originally cooperative design; used interchangeably with co-design, which is the more industrially rooted North American equivalent—became a research and design/development methodology optimally suited for this problem area of cultural heritage and ICT. At its core, PD carries the idea that people situated on different knowledge fields of a given problem space must work together and share their perceptions of their given reality, as the solution to the problem exists in the boundary spaces between

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  163

the cultural and contextual, and the computational domain (see Burstall, 1992). PD emerged in the 1970s and 1980s in Scandinavian industrial contexts as a response to the ongoing digitization of especially blue-collar work (see Bødker, Ehn, Kammersgaard, Kyng, & Sundblad, 1987; Nygaard, 1979; Kyng & Mathiassen, 1979 for early PD). The push for digitization was largely criticized for being a management decision, effectively bypassing the knowledge and acquired skills of the workers. Early PDers (shorthand for participatory designers) sided with the workers and formulated useful systems that needed to reflect the workers’ reality and skills. As early PDers knew little about industrial knowledge domains, and workers knew little about what computing systems could afford, both parties sat down and began designing systems together. Thus, with a principle of mutual learning (Nielsen, DirckinckHolmfeld, & Danielsen, 2003), the PDer learned about the context of the system and the workers learned about what ICT could do (these were the early days of computing), hereby creating an overlap of knowledge domains. This account ties the genesis of PD to the need to address seemingly unresolvable views of reality among parties. To further illustrate this point, Bødker, Ehn, Knudsen, Kyng, and Madsen (1988, p. 3) point out that “the normal resolution or understanding includes the blindness created by the tradition they come from. The design process is characterized by a breakdown of this understanding, by which a situation of irresolution is created.” To handle the irresolution Bødker and colleagues describe, the co-design toolbox contains creative and practical methods to physically construct sketches and prototypes. These collaborative processes of construction elicit information from both parties, thus serving as responses to or proxies for the perceived realities. When these prototypes are laid out in the open, they could be discussed, critiqued, and reformulated; thus, a system’s meaningfulness could be investigated from both ends. In sum, PD emerged as a response to real challenges of integrating local knowledge with computing systems.

2.1 Rationales for PD as Methodology Over the years, PD as a field has naturally evolved, and it is reinterpreted in new contexts with the influence of other emerging lines of thought and is thereby in constant motion. Notwithstanding, I  find it fair to identify a set of principles (rooted in the PD origin as I see it), which constitute how PD can be understood (Rodil, 2016; see Chapter 1). In this regard, the three rationales—theoretical, pragmatic, and political—provided by Greenbaum

164  Kasper Rodil

and Halskov (1993) can be seen as a methodological web for explaining the nature of PD.

2.1.1 Theoretical PD is philosophically grounded in constructivism (Vrasidas, 2000). One way to see this is through the five constructivist principles from Vrasidas (2000, p. 7): (1) There is a real world that sets boundaries to what we can experience. However, reality is local and there are multiple realities. (2) The structure of the world is created in the mind through interaction with the world and is based on interpretation. Symbols are products of culture and they are used to construct reality. (3) The mind creates symbols by perceiving and interpreting the world. (4) Human thought is imaginative and develops out of perception, sensory experiences, and social interaction. (5) Meaning is a result of an interpretive process, and it depends on the knowers’ experiences and understanding.

2.2.2 Pragmatic PD is originally about constructing digital technologies together (by elevating the worker to become a co-designer), and to do so there is a need to practically design and construct solutions to problems—these technical solutions are referred to as artifacts. The technical artifact (prototype is used interchangeably) is the cynosure of PD, primarily because the artifact represents parts of the goal (the goal is also to learn while designing). But as the work of Floyd, Züllighoven, Budde, and Keil-Slawik (1992, p. 2) explains, the artifact is a social construction formed by “bringing about what we hold for real, which is the key to constructivist thinking.” In this way the co-designers’ viewpoints are inscribed into the artifact and by construction exposed, allowing others to comment on it. Thus, the pragmatic rationale reflects the toolbox and methods enabling, in other words, designerly untrained co-designers to be constructive, creative, and collaborative (e.g. Kensing & Munk-Madsen, 1993; Spinuzzi, 2005).

2.2.3 Political PD is about siding with, to some degree, an oppressed actor. PD has origins in (participatory) action research, and because of this transformative

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  165

belonging, PD itself is action-oriented as problems are addressed with technology and design to change an unwanted situation. Ehn (1993, p. 47) explained that “in the interest of emancipation, we deliberately made the choice of siding with workers and their organizations, supporting the development of their resources for a change towards democracy at work.” In sum, PD ultimately represents a value-based productive approach to collaboratively solving and understanding real problems using computing technologies.

2.2 PD in Indigenous Contexts While PD was conceived in a democratic, industrial Scandinavian union context, its ability to become useful outside of this domain is largely due to the adaptive nature of the method. In the years succeeding early PD, the terms ‘community-based co-design/participatory design’ were formulated based on PD but to better reflect how to collaborate, engage with, and include indigenous communities in design work. This is primarily reflected in the African rural community contexts in opposition to the industrial, democratic contexts from early PD. Braa (1996) explained early that PD was about communities rather than workplaces, but in terms of technology design, Braa (1996, p. 2) commented: “I propose a community perspective as a strategy to enhance both the community as well as prepare technical development that goes beyond mimicking the first world.” With the use of an adapted PD methodology, various ICT have been designed over the years together with rural communities, and PD has adapted to local conditions and emerged in and out of various contexts across the globe. One example illustrating this large bandwidth is the project of codesigning prosthetic legs with children and engineers in Cambodia by Hussain, Sanders, and Steinert (2012). Another example is co-designing various technical systems for cultural heritage protection with the Bedouins of Egypt by Giglitto, Lazem, and Preston (2019). More locally, the ICT we have worked on in Namibia have focused on understanding specific gaps in the cultural heritage safeguarding model as a whole, but a series of other problems have been addressed, as well (e.g. gender-based violence: Ndjibu, Peters, Winschiers-Theophilus, & Namhunya, 2017). In a more personal light, these ICT primarily and collectively formulate an attempt toward collaborative digitization of intangible cultural heritage (ICH), which includes rethinking how computing systems could be cultivated using ICH and also being critical toward the embedded culture of ICT in efforts of digitization.

166  Kasper Rodil

3. The Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage: The Nucleus for PD Work in Indigenous Contexts The phenomenon on which we have worked so intensely is broadly termed cultural heritage. A recognized way to conceptualize cultural heritage is by following UNESCO’s almost dichroic split of cultural heritage into what is formally known as tangible cultural heritage (hereafter TCH) and intangible cultural heritage (hereafter ICH). UNESCO defines ICH in the following way: The ‘Intangible Cultural Heritage’ means the practices, representations, expressions, knowledge, skills—as well as the instruments, objects, artefacts and cultural spaces associated therewith—that communities, groups and, in some cases, individuals recognize as part of their cultural heritage. This intangible cultural heritage, transmitted from generation to generation, is constantly recreated by communities and groups in response to their environment, their interaction with nature and their history, and provides them with a sense of identity and continuity, thus promoting respect for cultural diversity and human creativity. (UNESCO, 2016, p. 5) Cultural heritage as a concept is inherently difficult to handle due to the intertwined nature of the TCH or material heritage (such as artifacts, monuments, sites, etc.) and the ICH and immaterial properties (such as spiritual beliefs, worldviews, practices, languages, etc.). See Ahmad (2006) for a fuller unpacking of concepts. Looking at cultural heritage in the context of this chapter requires one to acknowledge that without ICH (practices, beliefs, rituals, etc.), there would be, as an example, no physical manifestation known as rock art (existing in Africa, the Americas, Asia, Australia, and Europe). What you can bring into museums as artifacts and objects or as sites to visit are linked, at least historically (the meaning might be lost in time), to the immaterial practices and beliefs of people. After all, it seems logical that some cultural thought process must have been embedded in raising monuments and scraping animals onto rocks thousands of years ago. Cultural heritage is not only a thing of the past; it is produced (as knowledge and objects alike) all the time. UNESCO underpins ICH as not only a thing of the past but defines it as “traditional, contemporary and living at the same time: intangible cultural heritage does not only represent inherited traditions from the past but also contemporary rural and urban practices in which diverse cultural groups take part” (UNESCO, n.d.). In this way, PD, to be able to work with this

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  167

knowledge, is logically best employed in settings where there are people who have the knowledge.

3.1 Safeguarding ICH with ICT Dichroism (from the Greek dikhroos, meaning two-colored) enables one through a device to selectively pass light into a small range of colors while reflecting the others. The light analogy here is used to emphasize the fact that ICH and TCH—while socially constructed to be independent entities within cultural heritage academic fields (such as museology and archaeology)—are conceptually separated by people, yet in many ways remain inseparable. See Vecco (2010) for a discussion on the Eurocentric origin of the cultural heritage term, and see Kurin (2004) for a debate on the ICH convention. This chapter aims to bring digitization of this cultural patchwork into the discussion, not because of a technological deterministic (or optimistic) view, but because technology (here referred to as ICT) can be used for exploring avenues for safeguarding cultural heritage, which previously was unimaginable. As stipulated in Article 2, Paragraph 3 of the UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage (bold emphasis by author): “Safeguarding” means measures aimed at ensuring the viability of the intangible cultural heritage, including the identification, documentation, research, preservation, protection, promotion, enhancement, transmission, particularly through formal and nonformal education, as well as the revitalization of the various aspects of such heritage. (UNESCO, 2016) These bold terms do not mention how we should handle ICH, but illuminate the need for capture (documentation), revitalization of ICH (enhancement and promotion), and transfer (through various educational means) ultimately leading to preservation.

3.2 Focus on Indigenous Youths and Learning Ecologies In my view, seeking approaches for indigenous youths to become interested in their heritage to enable them as future curators is a worthwhile objective. Many indigenous youths of today are de-situated from this heritage either by geographical or educational distance, by lack of interest or in

168  Kasper Rodil

combination (Skovfoged et  al., 2018). The current state of affairs is that much of the world’s ICH is no longer thriving. This is especially true about the ICH being maintained in indigenous cultures. This ICH is not only beneficial as knowledge systems that can equip us with solutions to many problems of today and tomorrow, but they often represent the identity of many people across the globe, as well as a maintained legacy of splendor and cultural diversity. To be able to frame technology in this problem field, it is necessary to refer to yet another idea—the concept of a learning ecology. Barron (2004) defines a learning ecology “as the accessed set of contexts, comprised of configurations of activities, material resources and relationships, found in co-located physical or virtual spaces that provide opportunities for learning” (p. 6). The rationale for a learning ecology in the context of an indigenous community, such as ones I  have worked with in Namibia, is that one can understand ICH as the accumulated informal curriculum sustained through generations serving as the immaterial fabric binding the community to its context—in time and space. From an indigenous youth perspective, learning this experiential curriculum prepares the individual youth to partake, sustain, and grow a community. This is essential for the continuation of the community and the identity of the youth. In contrast, there is an impetus from broader surrounding society for youth to learn from essentially a wholly different formalized curriculum, manifested as schools and universities that actively tries to prepare them to partake, sustain and grow a nation in a context of being global. This competing global ecology renders many aspects of what a youth can learn in the indigenous community irrelevant, and vice versa. I want to stress here that I  take a general perspective, and obviously there are also valuable aspects already being transported between those two ecologies, and neither of the two are static. The main point is to grow the line of thought I have been busy with for some years by now; how can ICT be a vehicle to connect these two ecologies? At the center of it all, it is important to remain critical of and learn from digitization approaches for the simple reason that one must scrutinize how one array of interconnected cultural concepts embedded in computing devices pass or do not pass ICH from one ecology to another. The goal of the following section is to illuminate the many challenges automatically embedded in efforts of bringing ICT and safeguarding of cultural heritage together for the ultimate goal of passing it to and through another ecology for learning.

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  169

4. ICH Capture Is a Reductionist Approach: Also in Digital Matters One major inroad in this chapter has been to cultivate some criticality on the appropriateness of ICT in safeguarding matters. The important point to raise is that computing systems are as much manifestations of culture as are blowpipes and skateboards (for example, see Rodil, 2015, 2017). These tangible constructions are innovative tools developed to serve certain purposes and solve tasks—whether simple or complex—and come embedded with the worldviews of their constructors. They are, in effect, the intertwined product of ICH and TCH. Capturing, in this context, means approaches to document/record/collect multimodal data that arguably is the representation of any ICH (for a full account, see Rodil  & Rehm, 2015). As researchers, we are trained to approach the world around us in particular systematic ways that set limits on what we are most logically able to recognize. For instance, if one works with robotics, then cultural heritage may be seen through a robotic perspective. Interestingly, while conceptualizing cultural heritage through a robotic lens will only be seen as utopian to many, this conceptualization may not necessarily be idealistic in the larger context of capturing and understanding ICH as it might bring a missing piece. The capacity to capture ICH through the method or the technology we are most familiar with—known as the law of the instrument (or Maslow’s hammer)—is quite normal, given the complexity there is to untangle. Here the earlier quote about PD by Bødker et al. (1988, p. 3), “the blindness created by the tradition they come from,” seems fitting. Extending the metaphor, I wish to further emphasize the point that it is possible to be blind in more than one eye. There can be blindness about variance and, just as can people, technologies can come fully equipped with blind spots toward the variable nature of what must be captured.

4.1 Capturing Variance in ICH Across Local Contexts Capturing ICH within one community or from one actor can be termed ‘sampling.’ Sampling seeks to derive some representational understanding, but it is difficult to imagine the absence of some cultural variance also among these communities’ usage of and reflection on their ICH. Practically, it becomes impossible to interact with every OvaHerero community in Namibia and sample the ‘same’ ICH on, for instance, OvaHerero rituals surrounding the

170  Kasper Rodil

bride-in-wedding traditions. These rituals appear similar, but in practice will vary, as the ecologies for each community vary. In 2018, this challenge of sampling surfaced in work on revitalizing the African cautionary tales of the Tokoloshe (Skovfoged et al., 2018). The Tokoloshe is a mythic creature from African folklore that is present in many different tales. As the stories of the Tokoloshe have been transferred orally among communities over large parts of Africa, there are local variations (for instance, the characteristics of the Tokoloshe or the spelling/pronunciation of it) as communities have adapted these tales to match their surroundings and livelihoods. The objective of the research was to reconstruct the tale of the Tokoloshe as a fully immersive virtual reality (VR) game, whereby the player takes an active part in the tale. Composing a uniform understanding of a general representation of the Tokoloshe was impossible, since the many available captures being made accessible were conflicting in meaning. Additionally, even though they were of the same modality (written accounts), the captures were made by several people. Thus, none of the sources constituted the full picture of the Tokoloshe, but together they formed a more nuanced—though conflicting—picture of the Tokoloshe. This situation posits a persistent challenge in capturing and ultimately in safeguarding. The question is raised of how to collaborate with a given community without rendering others voiceless. And, even if it became possible to listen to all communities, should we ensure that all accounts are consistent copies of each other? Furthermore, should consistency be our main objective? This could be viewed as a form of accepting on face value eyewitness or expert testimony, where certain importance is laid on the information coming from one source, which receives a certain privilege—it is being heard. According to Allwood (1985, p. 2), the danger of misleading and biased generalizations is one of the greatest risks in research on intercultural communication, and that danger increases as soon as someone tries to describe the differences between groups from the perspective of a particular group’s interests. While Allwood (1985) specifically mentions differences, I wish to underpin the problem of describing similarities, as well. Describing similarities across the variance of Tokoloshe accounts by basing representation on one source washes away the local difference—distinctions created within local ecologies, since they have been meaningful locally. While this example holds for written accounts (as in the Tokoloshe example), it could be argued that the problem

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  171

is to some degree similar to other methods, as well as capturing technologies. For instance, this problem of representation persists whether one is using still photos or photogrammetry, a traditional video recorder or 360-degree video recorder, microphones or thermal cameras, and the list grows more extreme. These technologies are perhaps as biased themselves as any capturing approach, including seeking opinions of one community while ignoring others. As an example, a camera does not itself carry conscious bias, but it is constructed by people with a certain aim. The data extractable from a camera is vision-based, and the camera is by affordance limited in its ability to perceive. The researcher or youth, who only sees a cultural practice from the camera’s limited vision, will in turn have limited vision. This is the same case with the Tokoloshe—should one refrain from representing the Tokoloshe in light of conflicting sources, or accept that any representation is in fact limited by nature? The point is not to refrain from using technologies in light of this irresolvable conflict, but rather it is about acknowledging it and trying to understand the consequence.

4.2 Technologies Capture, People Represent In 2013, a group of OvaHerero elders requested assistance to help capture their wedding rituals (the account can be read in Rodil, Winschiers-Theophilus, Kapuire, Stanley, & Chivuno-Kuria, 2014). They knew about video recorders from years of working with us and requested to borrow a camera for this purpose. It quickly became clear that understanding the intangible cultural heritage of the OvaHerero weddings was not possible from this approach. Furthermore, as we consulted other published sources (such as written ones), they were discarded by the community as being inaccurate—for instance, the hidden bride concept described in written sources portraying the reason why the bride, to provide protection from witchcraft, would be hidden away in a house with other family members as part of the ceremony. The elders explained that it was wrong; it was due to instilling some humility in the bride as she would enter a new family. Two major aspects of capturing ICH were clear. First, although the person controlling the camera knows by heart the ICH, the camera output cannot provide a stand-alone transfer of meaning. Second, what is captured is only providing one perspective into the wedding (what is not in camera view is not captured), and although the capture was supported by additional data (such as community narration), that itself was directed by the capture (as the community narrated only what they saw as video); it did provide some

172  Kasper Rodil

fragmented understanding, yet it still did not render a complete and meaningful transfer for an outsider. From the perspective of a youth living in the city, this would be problematic, as they would not be able to fill in the missing pieces as the elders could do. Researchers, especially in ICT-related fields, are using technological devices as part of their capturing repertoire when working with ICH, and often the ability for capturing ICH with these systems conforms to the technical abilities and affordances of these systems. Just because the technology is sophisticated does not mean it automatically suits any purpose, nor does what is captured automatically reflect a shared view of the community whose ICH we purport to represent. Working with only one community or with one capturing approach with all its embedded preferences and affordances (such as cameras or dictaphones) renders safeguarding as reductionistic—both in terms of the quality of resources being outputted and the lack of a comprehensive representation. This is what people bring into cultural heritage safeguarding, their perspectives, and the affordances of their preferred technologies. We made the following claim (Rodil & Rehm, 2015, p. 12): “to really make an impact on safeguarding intangible cultural heritage, a multidimensional approach is necessary that combines several methods of data capture in order to allow for analyzing the phenomenon under investigation from as many perspectives as possible.” Taken on its surface, this quote can seem to suggest that as long as the diversity of capturing technologies/methods is large enough, it becomes possible to capture it all. For instance, by using motion capture sensors to capture movements of Icelandic folk dancers, interviewing the dancers, or by making handwritten notes and capturing photos of the very performance taking place, we can claim to get a full picture of their ICH. Veritably, while all approaches might capture aspects of the cultural heritage, none can claim to capture all, and they do not capture the same characteristics. Rather, the preceding quote could alternatively suggest that in digitization efforts, one should pay attention to whether the captured data enables a representation that leads to a meaningful output for dissemination, such a cultural VR game or a website. Safeguarding will in all likelihood be a case of selection, interpretation, and representation, whether the commitment is to explore ICH with ICT or some other capturing means. Working with people and their cultural heritage is naturally interpretive and reductionistic. It may well be that capturing the full picture is a rather utopian and fatuous endeavor. Careful and honest representation from the captured is the true burden of ICH work.

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  173

5.  Community Consensus and Learning As a reader, you might wonder why PD was important to mention. This is because PD—or community-based PD, as I  have experienced it—is about combining problems (safeguarding), domains (ICH), and technology (ICT) for the sake of learning about all three in combination, as well as in their isolation. The center of these activities has been energized by the different communities we have collaborated with. Our work on revitalizing the Tokoloshe cautionary tale(s) sought to promote local narratives in competition with Western game narratives, while seeking a transfer method to youths, such as a fuller sensorily experience in VR. A couple of points were clear from this work (see examples in Skovfoged et al., 2018). First, not only was understanding the written captures very difficult from a digitization perspective, but filling in missing parts of the material with our own understanding demonstrated how easily cultural byproducts become embedded into a representation. Sometimes these byproducts enter because of an interpretation of cultural concepts, and other times because of irresolvable variance or by the absence of explainable data. All these circumstances point toward the nuances of interpretation and of capturing. How is it possible to translate written accounts to a full VR experience without cultural translation or faulty aggregation? The second point is that at the center of PD is the bringing out of one’s understanding through prototypes and design methods. The Tokoloshe project allowed us to reveal aspects of our culturalization and the challenges embedded in building a digital ICH bridge. The Tokoloshe project represented the first exposure to how we understood the Tokoloshe tales and how its digital transformation could occur. This first phase represented an unreflected representation in the form of a prototype. Consequently, the VR prototype was brought to Namibia, showcasing and discussing its culture and usefulness as a bridge with indigenous community members. As mentioned in previous sections, the technological meaningfulness must be reflected and altered within the domain of ICH (within the community context) in order to arrive at true PD. As Suchman explained: “the development of useful systems must be a boundary-crossing activity, taking place through the deliberate creation of situations that allow for the meeting of different partial knowledges” (2002, p. 4). It is from this threshold, where we are not yet, that the Tokoloshe prototype from a local perspective will reflect what it should or should not be. Another point is that communities or designers may have thoughts and underlying cultural rationales of which they are no themselves cognizant.

174  Kasper Rodil

Naturally, these hidden aspects are difficult to isolate without them being first exposed. One of our more ‘popular’ examples of co-designing ICT was the work around the HomeSteadCreator (Rodil, Winschiers-Theophilus, Jensen, & Rehm, 2012; Rodil, Rehm, & Winschiers-Theophilus, 2013). I spent large parts of my doctoral thesis work collaborating with colleagues and OvaHerero elders from Erindiroukambe. The project was in all essence about a mobile device-based, three-dimensional (3D) graphical world in which a storyteller could move around 3D objects related to local objects. The core idea was to use it as a storytelling device, whereby elders could, by narrating and manipulating 3D objects, explain local cultural rules of, for instance, movement or organization of a homestead. These accounts could then be recorded using the device on which the application was installed, and transferred to urban-living youths. Instead of moving toward a final product that could be deployed for youths, the work turned toward a discourse about the embedded culture of ICT. I would typically implement some system functions (such as a fence builder) or create some 3D models (such as a house or horse) that I would then bring to the community. Then we would sometimes spend hours debating the visual accuracy of these objects or the conceptual misunderstanding underneath a seemingly culturally ‘innocent’ icon for deleting virtual objects. Why I chose to listen (which can be hard when it conflicts with your mental models) or why they chose to spend time explaining to me was because we had a mutual enterprise of understanding each other and then translating our understanding as ICT. But also, there was always respect between us and that is essential. PD is emancipatory by design and easily follows the ethical principles of the ICH Convention, which says: Communities, groups, local, national and transnational organizations and individuals should carefully assess the direct and indirect, shortterm and long-term, potential and definitive impact of any action that may affect the viability of intangible cultural heritage or the communities who practice it. (UNESCO, 2016) Besides the point that written commitments can be harder to follow in reality, PD enables one to acknowledge some limitations (or blind spots) we each have, and it prioritizes technologies designed to reflect domain knowledge to solve problems.

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  175

6. Conclusion Co-designing information and communication technologies (ICT) for the safeguarding of intangible cultural heritage creates a lens through which a certain level of understanding is achieved. This lens enables the indigenous curators to take ownership of the way their heritage passes through the technical lens. But ICT come already equipped with a particularly persuasive way to pass light. Thus, it must be a collaborative effort to find the right projection. As I have indicated along the way, I find it rather unreasonable to believe that one can fully transfer full modality ICH to limited modality ICT, vice versa, or combinations within. It is a projection of something by someone through something. We each have good reasons for how we go about ICH. In my view, we as outsiders to the ownership should not construct outlets of ICH without consulting the current curators of the meaningfulness of a representation. At the same time, it becomes difficult to generate outlets that are sensitive to the local perspective and yet not generalize to a point at which the meaning gets diluted or distorted. In these cases, perhaps people working with the digitization of ICH should consider more personal anchors, for example, by mentioning the specific communities, or by making clear in text who is responsible for the communications. Since it all began for me all those years ago, I have, with the assistance of communities, learned a lot about what ICT can do for ICH. But to no lesser extent have I and colleagues seen how ICT are a set of cultural tools, and we have experienced how ICT can be enriched by ICH. ICH is an incredible patchwork—taking one string out does not represent the patchwork, nor is the patchwork complete with a string missing. My objective is—together with communities—to co-create and revitalize ICH for the disinterested youths of today, learn from it, and remain critical toward the consequences for ICH in a digital future.

Issues in Brief Outsiders’ cultural perspectives can engender technology systems and processes that can actively misrepresent the very same indigenous cultural heritage they seek to protect and transfer. The PD methodological approach can be used to resolve this dilemma. The chapter distills some

176  Kasper Rodil

critical opinions about the role of ICT in matters of digitization of cultural heritage.

Key Messages •

•

•

The digitization of ICH can introduce cultural byproducts as the origin of the digitization ultimately handled through digital systems conceptualized by another culture. Technologies for the digitization of ICH have embedded perspectives of their own that, by construction, give them a particular focus. For example, still cameras are not typically anticipated to record video, nor audio recorders to sense the temperature, etc. Communities must be at the helm of digitization efforts, since they are the rightful custodians of their own ICH.

Reflection Questions •

What are the embedded safeguarding challenges of creating interactive experiences from limited data? • What is the role of the community in ICT approaches to safeguarding ICH? • Can non-curators of ICH create any media-technical artifact without introducing their own culture? What are the consequences, and what is the alternative?

Acknowledgments I wish to thank all those of Namibian communities who have opened their arms and homes for my colleagues and me.

References Ahmad, Y. (2006). The scope and definitions of heritage: From tangible to intangible. International Journal of Heritage Studies, 12(3), 292–300. Allwood, J. (1985). Intercultural communication. Papers in Anthropological Linguistics, 12, 1–25.

Reflections From the Boundary Spaces  177 Barron, B. (2004). Learning ecologies for technological fluency in a technology-rich community. Journal of Educational Computing Research, 31(1), 1–36. Bødker, S., Ehn, P., Kammersgaard, J., Kyng, M., & Sundblad, Y. (1987). A UTOPIAN experience: On design of powerful computer-based tools for skilled graphic workers. Computers and Democracy—A Scandinavian Challenge, 251–278. Bødker, S., Ehn, P., Knudsen, J., Kyng, M., & Madsen, K. (1988). Computer support for cooperative design (invited paper). In Proceedings of the 1988 ACM conference on computersupported cooperative work, CSCW’88 (pp. 377–394). New York: ACM. Braa, J. (1996). Community-based participatory design in the Third World. In Proceedings of the’96 conference on participatory design (pp. 15–24). Cambridge: CSPR. Burstall, R. M. (1992). Computing: Yet another reality construction. In C. Floyd, H. Züllighoven, R. Budde, & R. Keil-Slawik (Eds.), Software development and reality construction (pp. 45–51). Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer. Ehn, P. (1993). Scandinavian design—on participation and skill. In D. Schuler  & A. Namioka (Eds.), Participatory design—principles and practices (pp. 41–77). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Floyd, C., Züllighoven, H., Budde, R., & Keil-Slawik, R. (Eds.). (1992). Software development and reality construction. Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer. Giglitto, D., Lazem, S., & Preston, A. (2019). A participatory approach for digital documentation of Egyptian Bedouins intangible cultural heritage. Interaction Design and Architecture(s) Journal (41), 31–49. Greenbaum, J.,  & Halskov, K. (1993). PD: A  personal statement. Communications of the ACM, 36(6), 49–56. https://doi.org/10.1145/153571.214816. Hussain, S., Sanders, E.,  & Steinert, M. (2012). Participatory design with marginalized people in developing countries: Challenges and opportunities experienced in a field study in Cambodia. International Journal of Design, 6(2). Kensing, F., & Munk-Madsen, A. (1993). PD: Structure in the toolbox. Communications of the ACM, 36(6), 78–85. Kurin, R. (2004). Safeguarding intangible cultural heritage in the 2003 UNESCO convention: A critical appraisal. Museum international, 56(1–2), 66–77. Kyng, M., & Mathiassen, L. (1979). Systems development and trade union activities. Aarhus: Computer Science Department, Aarhus University. Nielsen, J., Dirckinck-Holmfeld, L., & Danielsen, O. (2003). Dialogue design-with mutual learning as a guiding principle. International Journal of Human-Computer Interaction, 15(1), 21–40. doi:10.1207/s15327590ijhc1501_03 Ndjibu, R., Peters, A. N., Winschiers-Theophilus, H., & Namhunya, F. (2017, May). Gender-based violence campaign in Namibia: Traditional meets technology for societal change. In Proceedings of the 2017 CHI conference extended abstracts on human factors in computing systems (pp. 1024–1029). New York: ACM. Nygaard, K. (1979). The iron and metal project: Trade union participation. In A. Sandberg (Ed.), Computers dividing man and work recent scandinavian research on planning and computers from a trade union perspective, number 13. Swedish Center for Working Life, Demos Project Report No. 13 (pp.  94–107). Malmø, Sweden: Utbildningsproduktion. Rodil, K. (2015). Reflections on visualization in cross-cultural design. In At the Intersections of Traditional and Indigenous Knowledges and Technology Design (pp. 319–340). Santa Rosa, CA: Informing Science Press.

178  Kasper Rodil Rodil, K. (2016). Co-designing digital technologies for cultural heritage preservation with indigenous communities in Namibia (Doctoral Dissertation). Aalborg: Aalborg Universitetsforlag. Rodil, K. (2017). A perspective on systems design in the digitisation of intangible cultural heritage. International Journal of Intangible Heritage, 12, 190–197. Rodil, K.,  & Rehm, M. (2015). A  decade later: Looking at the past while sketching the future of ICH through the tripartite digitisation model. International Journal of Intangible Heritage, 10, 48–60. Rodil, K., Rehm, M., & Winschiers-Theophilus, H. (2013). Homestead creator: Using card sorting in search for culture-aware categorizations of interface objects. In IFIP Conference on Human-Computer Interaction (pp. 437–444). Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer. Rodil, K., Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Jensen, K. L., & Rehm, M. (2012, October). Homestead creator: A  tool for indigenous designers. In Proceedings of the 7th Nordic conference on human-computer interaction: Making sense through design (pp. 627–630). New York: ACM. Rodil, K., Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Kapuire, G. K., Stanley, C.,  & Chivuno-Kuria, S. (2014). Participatory exploration of digitalizing cultural content: Getting married. Are we ready? In PDC (2), 93–97. Skovfoged, M. M., Viktor, M., Sokolov, M. K., Hansen, A., Nielsen, H. H.,  & Rodil, K. (2018). The tales of the Tokoloshe: Safeguarding intangible cultural heritage using virtual reality. Proceedings of the Second African Conference for Human Computer Interaction: Thriving Communities, 1–4. Spinuzzi, C. (2005). The methodology of participatory design. Technical Communication, 52(2), 163–174. Suchman, L. (2002). Located accountabilities in technology production. Scandinavian Journal of Information Systems, 14(2). UNESCO. (n.d.). Retrieved October  12, 2019, from https://ich.unesco.org/en/ what-is-intangible-heritage-00003 UNESCO. (2016). Basic texts of the 2003 convention for the safeguarding of the intangible cultural heritage. Retrieved from https://ich.unesco.org/en/convention. Vecco, M. (2010). A definition of cultural heritage: From the tangible to the intangible. Journal of Cultural Heritage, 11(3), 321–324. Vrasidas, C. (2000). Constructivism versus objectivism: Implications for interaction, course design, and evaluation in distance education. International Journal of Educational Telecommunications, 6(4), 339–362. Winschiers-Theophilus, H., Zaman, T., & Stanley, C. (2017). A classification of cultural engagements in community technology design: Introducing a transcultural approach. Ai & Society, 1–17.

 n Being Proficient O Enough to Do (No) Harm

9

Reflections on Mentoring Visiting Saudi Arabian K–12 Teachers Deepak Prem Subramony

1. On Being an Educational Technologist One of the most memorable observations I  have ever encountered in my 22-plus years as an educational technologist is one that Thomas M. Schwen, eminent performance technologist and my revered doctoral advisor at Indiana University, often used to make, back in the early 2000s: “We have only recently become proficient enough to do harm.” One of the (many) things he was hinting at with this statement was that ‘we’ had only recently arrived at that fateful juncture in human history where our scholarship and our praxis were starting to impact substantial numbers of people, including those living in parts of the world that had hitherto not experienced the dubious privilege of receiving our attention. Back then I  often wondered who ‘we’ were, as people. As a non-white, non-Western,1 non-Christian, and at the time, also a non-US citizen and closeted person, I did not seem to culturally have much in common with Schwen himself, with the countless scholars in the field whose works I had to read as a graduate student, or with my mostly straight, white, Western, Christian, US citizen classmates, many of whom appeared to be affiliated with the military and/or had industry experience.

180  Deepak Prem Subramony

Over the years since, I have also often wondered who we are, as professionals. I am yet to sit next to someone on a plane who doesn’t go “Whaaat?” when I reply “I am an educational technologist” to their “What do you do?” question. Unlike K–12 teachers, attorneys, physicians, and the like, we do not have a formal professional licensing process in place, which is why we can basically call ourselves pretty much whatever we like. The title ‘educational technologist’ just happens to be my currently preferred moniker. It is also why, at our academic conferences, we often hear the lament “These days every professor of [insert any field/discipline here] with a laptop calls himself an educational technologist!” More critically, our lack of formal professionalization means we are not subject to the same kinds of ethical protocols/parameters as are those practicing within more stringently regulated professions, leaving us to self-regulate as best as we can. As an illustration, the Code of Professional Ethics (see AECT, 2018) formulated by the Association for Educational Communications and Technology (AECT), and the words ‘ethical’ and ‘appropriate’ within AECT’s (2007) definition of educational technology as a field, both unquestionably constitute noteworthy efforts (see Subramony, 2017 for a more detailed discussion of this topic), but their influence and potential enforcement is limited to those who are affiliated with this particular grouping. When we juxtapose educational technology’s lack of professionalization in terms of an absence of formal licensing processes and universally enforceable ethical codes with the field’s increasing power to impact the lives of diverse stakeholders across the globe, the problem starts to come into sharper focus. During any attempt at transferring Western technology-based performance solutions into non-Western contexts, we navigate the minefield located at the intersection of mutually incompatible sociocultural ecologies. Are we okay simply waltzing through this minefield, unaware of any collateral damage we might be causing, especially now that we are “proficient enough to do harm”? At some point in time, it will become clearly apparent that our praxis is indeed hurting stakeholders more than helping, at which juncture we will lose significant credibility and respect as a profession. This chapter seeks to provide some guidance on ways by which we might avoid arriving at that ignominious moment.

2.  The Case at Hand Through 2019 and 2020, I had an opportunity to mentor ten Saudi Arabian in-service K–12 teachers, nine male and one female, as they formulated technology integration proposals to be implemented at their institutions back

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  181

home. These ten individuals participated (five during 2019 and five during 2020) in a year-long international educational exchange program funded by the Saudi Ministry of Education. This program sends Saudi K–12 teachers to universities in the United States and other Western countries for intercultural learning, allowing them to explore innovative ways of teaching—hence the program’s participants are designated as ‘teacher-scholars.’ The program’s aims include bolstering participants’ listening, speaking, reading, and writing skills in the English language, enhancing their capacities for effective instruction, and providing them with immersive experiences within US K–12 schools. The teacher-scholars whose proposals are discussed in this chapter completed coursework and programming in intercultural and multilingual education, and in the English language. They engaged in immersive experiences at two local public K–12 school districts, and also visited schools in other nearby communities. Finally, after exploring new pedagogical theories, instructional strategies, and the larger US educational system, these teacher-scholars each developed a capstone project—the aforementioned technology-based educational initiative/intervention—for implementation within their respective K–12 schools back home. These ten proposals displayed varying levels of scope/ambition and erudition/sophistication, reflecting the diversity of their authors’ professional contexts, familiarity with scholarly literature, and prior knowledge/experience with regard to K–12 technology integration.

3.  Technology and Learning Ecologies In a seminal but sadly overlooked work, Pierrette K. Jamison (1992) described how our field, particularly its branch that deals with instructional systems design (ISD), has its roots in the deeply patriarchic milieux of the military, industrial, and medical spheres. This has prompted it to traditionally look at the stakeholders targeted by our scholarship and praxis as uniform beings suited to uniform solutions. After all, our earliest target learners wore actual uniforms, whether on military bases or on factory floors. ISD thus started off as mere manipulation of content, following linear, restrictive, lock-step models that failed to comprehend the true nature of human learning as complex, multilayered, and messy. To its credit, ISD did eventually evolve from there. For example, Shirl Schiffman’s (1986) oldie-but-still-goodie essay carefully describes ISD’s development from a primitive media selection approach to a more systemic one that better befitted its instructional systems design moniker. This chapter concurs with and echoes one of this entire volume’s overarching arguments that an ecological approach to our scholarship and praxis is a

182  Deepak Prem Subramony

logical next step in the evolution of our field into one that is ready for the 21st century—one that extends the systems metaphor in a manner that allows us to see personal and social relationships as part of meaning making in an increasingly diverse, interconnected, globalized world; and one that recognizes learning as spanning multiple human contexts, such that the history, culture, race, politics, etc., of both us and our stakeholders all matter and need to be taken into account within our scholarship and praxis. The rest of this chapter can be seen as an ecological framing of my mentees’ and my worlds colliding in the context of the aforementioned mentoring experience. The chapter hopes to eventually transcend the limited bounds of said experience and morph into a discussion on how our field must now—more than two decades into the new millennium—finally push the envelope in terms of applying ethical and sustainable design thinking and praxis as a professional imperative. During my mentoring experience, I was tasked with taking on the role of a Western or, at the very least, a Western-educated and trained K–12 technology integration expert, advising aspiring change agents how to best integrate educational initiatives and interventions based on Western technologies into a decidedly non-Western sociocultural environment. Thomas, Mitchell, and Joseph (2002) wrote a TechTrends piece that richly deserves recognition as a truly groundbreaking work written on the topic of instructional systems design, but, like Jamison (1992) mentioned previously, it has not yet gained as much traction as it should have, simply because it emerged way ahead of its time. Thomas and colleagues argue that it is vitally important for us to focus on our intention, interaction, and introspection during the course of our praxis in order to be able to arrive at appropriate solutions. Inspired by their advice, I am focusing in this chapter on my intentions as a mentor, my interactions with my mentees, and my introspections regarding this entire enterprise. This entails discussing the respective intersectional positionalities of those involved in the case at hand (mentor and mentees), considering the systemic (sociocultural, economic, educational, and technological) contexts within which the aforementioned technology-based educational initiatives and interventions were to be implemented, and discussing the critical sets of issues that automatically arise whenever any cross-cultural application of Western technology-based performance solutions is attempted.

4.  Intersectional Positionalities The distinguished legal scholar, feminist, and critical race theorist Kimberlé M. Crenshaw coined the term “intersectionality” to describe how different

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  183

forms of discrimination can interact and overlap, and to emphasize the need to account for multiple grounds of identity when considering how the social world is constructed (Crenshaw, 1991, p.  1245). While Crenshaw originally used the term specifically to describe how race and gender intersect and compound each other as forms of oppression in the lived experiences of Black women, intersectionality as a concept has since been expanded—some would say appropriated or even hijacked—to encompass the entire gamut of pertinent social variables, including sexual orientation, nationality, socioeconomic class, disability, etc. (Emba, 2015). Nevertheless, intersectionality reminds us that our racial, gender, class, and sexual identities are with us in every social interaction (Collins, 1993), including teaching, learning, and technology usage. It shows us that we are complex bodies who experience privilege and oppression in ways that are deeply intersected, in ways that cannot be disassembled and their parts analyzed separately, because each part of our experiences and identities is profoundly interconnected with all the other parts (Richards  & Barker, 2015), once again including teaching, learning, and technology usage. Adopting an intersectional perspective shows us educational technologists that we cannot understand the contexts, experiences, issues, and needs of teachers, learners, and technology users if we ignore the very important—and inextricably interlinked—parts of their human identity and experience. To begin with, for my own part, in spite of having lived in the United States for more than two decades thus far, I still do not see myself as a Western person. The sociological literature is rife with various attempts to conceptualize Western-ness, including Appiah’s explanation that I cited earlier; however, for the purpose of this reflection, it makes more sense to consider how I personally conceive of said construct, shaped by my first-hand lived experiences in both West and non-West. One of these conceptions, based on growing up in a materially deprived non-Western milieu, sees a Western self-identity as one that takes material abundance for granted, at least at the systemic, societal level. Going by this definition, I  certainly do not qualify. For instance, in terms of access to educational and communications technologies (ECT),2 despite being born towards the close of the ‘Generation X’ temporal window, I literally had no access to computers throughout my K–12 schooling and undergraduate studies in India, during the 1980s and early 1990s. In fact, the K–12 schools I attended considered themselves lucky if they experienced an entire school day without interruptions to their electricity and supply of (decidedly non-potable) running water. A  Western person would not typically find themselves sitting for a high-stakes mathematics test in a packed, sweltering, 110°F classroom without even a working ceiling-fan to help move the air around!

184  Deepak Prem Subramony

Interestingly, my country of birth eventually experienced powerful forces of globalization and economic liberalization sweeping in during the aftermath of frantic reforms unveiled starting in 1991 to prevent its economy from falling off a cliff. These forces eventually saw me working as an instructional designer for an international technology firm in my early twenties, designing computer-based training (CBT) modules for the Republic of Singapore Air Force. As it happened, I finally got to inaugurate my first ever e-mail account during my first day on this job. Caught up in this wave of socioeconomic change, I found myself part of the generation whose labor served to change the global perception of India from an incurably backward, Third World basket case to an aspiring information technology superpower. Meanwhile, another way in which I have experientially come to characterize a Western self-identity is as one who enjoys an unambiguous feeling of belonging to, of having a stake in, and of even having outright ownership over a given Western society/culture—a sense that said society/culture is clearly constructed in one’s own image. If we were to take such a characterization of Western-ness as legitimate, then I do not fit the bill based on this criterion, either. This is partially because how I see myself is only one part of the equation: Within any given social context, there is also the matter of how others perceive me. Though I duly swear allegiance to the US flag, travel on a US passport, and vote in US elections, I am largely not permitted to feel ‘American’ because the question “Where are you from?” is inevitably followed by “But where are you really from?” if I were to answer “Manhattan, Kansas.” See Subramony (2007) and Subramony (2010) for more discussion of the perpetual foreigner syndrome that plagues those US citizens whom the US Census labels as ‘Asian,’ who include persons of Indian origin like myself. The other sociocultural syndrome afflicting Indians in the United States is our so-called model minority status. Take my own story, for instance. I came to this country in 1999 with an Indian bachelor’s degree and US$500 in my pocket, and six years later, I was a tenure-track assistant professor at a major US university. Indian-Americans happen to be the wealthiest and most highly educated ethnic group in the United States, Hinduism runs neck-and-neck with Judaism as the country’s richest religion per capita, and, while they do well in many elite professions, Indian-Americans’ progress and contributions are especially marked in Silicon Valley (Chakravorty, Kapur, & Singh, 2016). But, as Chakravorty and colleagues, as well as the prominent Indian-American historian Vijay Prashad (2001), have both explained, all of this has less to do with any innate intellectual or cultural superiority than the simple fact that it is mostly the smartest and most ambitious Indians who end up moving to the United States, due to US immigration policies being biased toward exactly

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  185

such individuals. Prashad (2001) has also noted the model minority stereotype was invented by white supremacist politicians not to denote admiration, approval, or acceptance, but rather to use Asian/Indian socioeconomic success as evidence of the absence of structural and institutional racism in the United States, and as a weapon with which to denigrate and beat down other communities of color. The exigencies of minority status—safeguarding oneself from oppression, preserving one’s sociocultural values and traditions, avoiding senses of loneliness/isolation/alienation, and so on—often inspire minority groups to emphasize cohesion and cooperation within their communities. A glance at the history of this ‘nation of immigrants’ informs us that mutual aid networks constituted its most popular form of voluntary association throughout the mid-19th and early 20th centuries (see Adereth, 2020). Such useful community support has been largely unavailable to me, however, due to another aspect of my intersectional positionality, namely, my sexual orientation, and my same-sex marriage to an individual from a vastly different ethnic and religious background than mine. I also happen to live, since the mid-2010s, in a small, isolated town on the prairie, within which I  am yet to encounter another LGBTQI3 person of Indian origin. Harking back to Thomas et al.’s (2002) intention, interaction, and introspection practices, let me explicitly state up front that I was not able to interact with my mentees at a(n) (inter)personal level as much as I  would have liked. The extremely intensive nature of their exchange program meant that their professional schedules were packed to maximum capacity, allowing us a grand total of only six hours of one-on-one, face-to-face consulting sessions per mentee, along with a two-hour group meeting at the beginning of the program. Furthermore, apropos the second (2020) cohort, the latter three hours of one-on-one consulting sessions with each of the five mentees had to be accomplished via videoconferencing due to an institutional move to emergency remote operations as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. This meant that we had to do our utmost to maximize the effectiveness of every minute we had together and the potential of electronic communication to enable the meaningful exchange of ideas. At the very least, we spent as much time we could to discuss the ‘critical considerations’ detailed in Section 6. To be perfectly honest, I often did wonder how my mentees saw me. Did they see me as legitimately Western, with all the attributes and privileges inherent in that label, or as something else? My own national origin also could be problematic in this regard; as Evason (2019) candidly notes, social stratification is quite noticeable in Saudi Arabia, with the unequal distribution of power, wealth, and status generally being socially accepted and seen as an

186  Deepak Prem Subramony

inevitable societal fact. More to the point, there exists a distinct class hierarchy between native Saudis and the low-paid foreign workers making up the majority of the Kingdom’s manual and domestic labor force, with a significant portion of this latter underclass hailing from the nations located in the Indian Subcontinent. Given that the Indians my mentees encountered back home often occupied powerless, subordinate positions in relation to them, would they now be able to accept an Indian-origin person, albeit one Western educated and credentialed, in the role of a mentor and guide? On the other hand, given the staunchly patriarchic character of Saudi society (see Liloia, 2019), my male sex could possibly carry some privilege/advantages within the context of my interactions with my mentees. That said, I reckoned it would be highly unadvisable to reveal my sexual orientation to them, considering the Kingdom’s official legal stance on homosexuality (see Equaldex, 2020). Within the LGBTQI population, I belong to the comparatively privileged subset that is generally able to ‘pass’ for straight; i.e., strangers usually do not catch on to my sexual orientation unless I choose to make it clear to them. While privilege by its very nature is typically invisible to its bearer (see McIntosh, 1988), reflecting on one’s own intersectional positionality can occasionally render one capable of comprehending one’s privileges. My ability to ‘pass’ has protected my physical safety and my social and professional prospects on countless occasions, representing a privilege that millions of my fellow LGBTQI people do not possess. As it happened, I did not experience any untoward interpersonal issues with my mentees whatsoever; they were polite, cordial, friendly, and impeccably professional, and I sincerely hope I was successful in coming across the same way to them. Some of them had visited and toured India, which gave them a better understanding of my cultural background. They appeared to appreciate my knowledge of Islamic culture, to which I  had been widely exposed growing up in India, and we had candid conversations about the differences in cultural values between East and West. They also seemed appreciative of my efforts to familiarize myself with their country of Saudi Arabia—its society, culture, economy, and educational system—as part of this mentoring process.

5.  Systemic Contexts In addition to the brilliant “proficient enough to do harm” quip mentioned at the start of this chapter, there is much else I have learned from Thomas Schwen that deeply informs my praxis to this day. As I detailed in Subramony

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  187

(2004), Schwen elucidated how folks in our field are often seduced by the belief that their research and development endeavors are value-free and therefore immune to social and technical criticism, and consequently engage in technological advocacy—which he characterized as our field’s ‘worst excess’—that works to restrict social choice, impose pedagogical options, and deprive equitable access. As he explained, we are often ignorant of the hidden assumptions and strong cultural values that accompany our work, and, in consequence, fail to make this self-evident to our audience. To avoid committing this ethical transgression myself, it was important for me to appropriately contextualize the interventions my mentees were proposing to understand the systemic frameworks—the sociocultural, economic, and educational environments—within which said interventions would be implemented. Specifically, I needed to familiarize myself with Saudi Arabia’s sociocultural ecology, its economic strengths and challenges, its public K–12 education system, and its national perspective on the role of technology in teaching and learning. I shall now briefly paraphrase some of what I learned about the 13th largest country on Earth by area that occupies the majority of the Arabian Peninsula in Western Asia. This Kingdom, as the birthplace and burial place of the Prophet Muhammad, and as one of the world’s biggest producers and exporters of petroleum, exerts major economic, political, and cultural influence internationally, and yet remains relatively enigmatic from the average Western perspective.

5.1 Society and Culture [Note: The content of this sub-section is sourced and paraphrased almost entirely from Evason (2019). I ‘member-checked’ this information with my Saudi mentees, and they corroborated its accuracy.] The majority of Saudi Arabia’s population is ethnically Arab; its society mainly comprises of the descendants of nomadic Bedouin tribes that have made the mostly arid Arabian Peninsula their home for millennia. Saudi cultural traditions are defined by Arab/Bedouin customs and Islamic teachings, and influenced by its long history as an important center for trade. With Saudi Arabia being the birthplace and burial place of the Prophet Muhammad and home to two of Islam’s holiest sanctuaries, Makkah the Blessed and Madinah the Radiant, the faith has extensive influence on Saudi society, guiding people’s social, familial, political, and legal lives. Saudi culture is fundamentally traditional and conservative, with conservative interpretations of Islam being a major social force that dictates much of Saudi life.

188  Deepak Prem Subramony

Notably—and this is a germane issue within teaching and learning ­contexts—there exists a broad gender separation throughout Saudi society that influences and determines ideas of privacy and space that are vastly different from those prevailing in the West. Many Saudi women veil their faces when in public domains where unrelated men are present. Unrelated men and women generally avoid communicating socially in person, and it is not p­ ermissible for them to be together in an enclosed space. To avoid the latter, public buildings in Saudi Arabia feature separate entrances for men and women, and most Saudi institutions of K–12 or higher education feature women-only/men-only buildings. Interestingly—and once again, ­ this is ­ relevant from an educational viewpoint—while physical gendermixing between unrelated Saudi individuals is largely taboo, gender-mixing is permitted to occur more freely in online spaces, since online cross-gender communication does not necessarily violate Saudi rules for behavior. However, Saudi society has been changing in recent decades due to the myriad ‘modernizing’4 forces unleashed by oil-fueled economic growth, industrialization, and heavily technocentric development. Local customs, traditions, and values are adapting in response to these external influences, and the Saudi people’s social norms and rules of behavior are being impacted and transformed by their attempts to balance their cultural traditions with the demands of Western modernity—an interesting example of this phenomenon being their permitting gender-mixing to occur more freely in online spaces. Other recent technology-driven sociocultural changes within Saudi society include widely accepting cameras, which were earlier held to violate Islamic tenets since they can simulate God’s creation by taking pictures of the human form; reintroducing cinemas; and granting women the right to drive vehicles. Reportedly, these changes can be partially attributed to social media providing a platform for Saudi people—especially the younger generations— to express their opinions more freely. Nevertheless, through all the aforementioned economic, technological, and sociocultural changes, the Saudi people retain a strong source of pride in their personal tribal identities, along with a strong moral code and deep cultural values such as hospitality, loyalty, and a sense of duty toward supporting one’s community. These are values that have historically been essential to ensure human survival in a harsh desert climate. Saudi culture continues to emphasize the importance of personal honor, integrity, ethics, morality, and righteousness, with these values also being formally reinforced by the nation’s educational and legal systems. The notion of honor is deeply intertwined with the idea of one’s personal dignity, and remains a central sociocultural concept, guiding behavior, and significantly influencing interactions in Saudi

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  189

society. As such, the preservation of honor and community opinion often features at the forefront of Saudi people’s minds. There also remains a very strong community focus embedded in Saudi culture, and a patrilineal kinship system remains pervasive throughout society. Saudi people are often mutually reliant on their relatives and neighbors, due to a collectivistic cultural perspective as well as a sense of duty. There persists a general understanding that with privilege comes greater responsibility to care for one’s community, with the fortunate being obliged to help the struggling.

5.2 Economy According to the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) World Factbook, Saudi Arabia has an oil-based economy with strong governmental control over key economic activities. The Kingdom possesses around 16 percent of the world’s proven petroleum reserves and the petroleum sector accounts for roughly 87 percent of its budget revenues, 42 percent of its gross domestic product, and 90 percent of its export earnings. Well before the COVID-19 pandemic decimated global oil markets in 2020, the Saudi government had been cognizant of the economic vulnerability inherent in basing the vast majority of its economy on a single resource. It has thus been pushing to reduce its dependence on oil revenues by encouraging the growth of the private sector in order to diversify its economy—not only within traditional focus areas such as power generation, telecommunications, natural gas exploration, and petrochemicals, but also more recently within the health care, education, and tourism sectors (CIA, 2020). Also an important part of the Saudi government’s agenda is to reduce unemployment among its own nationals, particularly its large population of youth (CIA, 2020). As Nereim (2020) explains, the Kingdom’s demographic bulge of young people requires the creation of around 150,000 new jobs per year, which is too large a number to be supported by public-sector employment and petroleum revenue alone; hence, Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s economic transformation plan has been predicated on creating enough private sector jobs to employ the Kingdom’s youthful population. Recently, as a result of disruptions caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the Kingdom’s non-oil private sector, its engine of job creation, contracted by more than 10 percent. Concomitantly, unemployment among Saudi citizens rose to 15.4 percent—the highest recorded in 20 years—despite a government stimulus program that covered 60 percent of many Saudi workers’ salaries (Nereim, 2020).

190  Deepak Prem Subramony

5.3 Public K–12 Education According to the World Education Network (WEN), public K–12 education in Saudi Arabia is managed and offered free of cost by the Kingdom’s Ministry of Education. Primary schooling is compulsory and is of six years’ duration, followed by intermediate and secondary school, each of which are of three years’ duration. Classrooms are segregated by gender. The medium of instruction is Arabic, with English introduced in grade four. Primary school provides Islamic education, develops basic literacy and numeracy, and seeks to foster a sense of social responsibility. Meanwhile, intermediate school provides age-appropriate knowledge and skills, along with Islamic education, and seeks to develop intellectual and scientific thinking skills, encouraging pupils to seek knowledge through scientific reasoning. Finally, secondary school provides comprehensive Islamic education, seeks to instill research abilities, and prepares students to continue their studies at institutions of higher education. Notably, secondary education in Saudi Arabia allows for tracking by featuring three types of schools—general/regular school, religious school, and vocational/technical school (WEN, 2021). Per the Saudi Embassy in Washington, D.C., the Saudi education system has undergone astonishing transformation since the Kingdom was established in 1932, at which time access to education was largely restricted to children from wealthy families in the major cities. With formal primary schooling beginning in Saudi Arabia in the 1930s, the Kingdom by 1951 featured 226 schools serving nearly 30,000 students. The first public school for girls was built in 1964, and girls’ schools were established in every part of the Kingdom by the end of the 1990s. With 30,000 K–12 schools currently in operation, Saudi Arabia sees education as obligatory for every Muslim, male and female, reflecting the repeated emphasis placed on the importance of learning in both the Holy Qur’an and the teachings and practices of the Prophet Muhammad. The Saudi government has been continuing to improve the Kingdom’s K–12 educational standards by offering quality teacher training programs, improving student evaluation standards, and increasing the use of educational technology. In 2000, computer science was introduced as a subject of study at the secondary level. Provincial school boards are also being given greater decision-making authority. Importantly, the Kingdom’s studentto-teacher ratio of 12.5:1 is one of the lowest in the world (The Embassy of The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, 2020).

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  191

5.4 Educational Technology The Saudi government appears to hold an extremely positive and optimistic view about the role of technology in facilitating effective teaching and meaningful learning at the K–12 level. In 2017, the Kingdom’s Ministry of Education (2020) launched the Future Gate initiative, a country-wide, largescale scheme to implement educational technology infrastructure and services covering more than 25,000 public K–12 schools and impacting six million students and half a million teachers. This initiative aims to kickstart a digital transformation of the Saudi public K–12 education system within the larger context of the Kingdom’s comprehensive Saudi Arabia Vision 2030 strategic framework (Saudi Vision 2030, 2020). Future Gate seeks to provide opportunities to understand more deeply how educational technology could empower stakeholders toward the goal of quality education for all, to leverage the power of information and communications technologies to enable innovation and creativity in all domains critical for the Kingdom’s economy and society, and to provide evidence of the value that could be achieved and sustained for public K–12 education by a carefully planned and executed use of educational technology focusing on digital literacy and 21st-century skills (Ministry of Education, 2020). According to Al Ohali, Al Suhaibani, Palavitsinis, and Koutoumanos (2018), by the time the Future Gate initiative is fully implemented, all public middle and secondary K–12 schools across the Kingdom will be connected to a comprehensive learning management system, which would support teachers, students, and parents by facilitating electronic testing, interactive content development, weekly planning, attendance recording, behavior monitoring, academic scheduling, lesson preparation, communication, discussion forums, task management, and student-created documents. Furthermore, the initiative is coordinating the creation of a solid infrastructure for broadband connectivity across all Saudi public middle and secondary K–12 schools, equipping the latter’s classrooms with interactive projectors, and launching a countrywide one-to-one student laptop scheme.

6.  Critical Considerations In relation to my experience advising my ten mentees as they went about developing their proposals for implementing technology-based educational initiatives and interventions at their respective K–12 schools in Saudi Arabia,

192  Deepak Prem Subramony

I would like to offer the following list of critical (sets of ) issues to consider during any attempt at the inter/cross-cultural application of Western technology-based performance solutions. I  use the word ‘critical’ here in three distinct senses simultaneously: 1) critical as in being crucial or vital in order to appropriately meet learning needs and bridge performance gaps; 2) critical as in being an informed and analytical consumer of ECT as opposed to a gullible, unsuspecting, and naïve one; and 3) critical as in possessing an understanding of socioeconomic and cultural phenomena as functions of underlying inequitable power relations.

6.1 Analysis Let me start with a concept that is intimately familiar to educational technologists, before foraying into ideas and themes that are further away from our field’s mainstream discourse and praxis. Anybody who has studied the (in)famous ADDIE model (see Molenda, 2003) knows the importance of analysis; rather, analyses—learner, task, topic, procedural, critical incident, contextual, and so on. Thomas et al. (2002) rightly recommended augmenting the effectiveness of this phase with their intention, interaction, and introspection practices. However, their proposed enhancement still does not mitigate the issue that our current conception of this phase of instructional systems design is far too limited in its focus. At the risk of sounding clichéd, appropriate instructional analysis truly requires a metaphoric 30,000-foot view, a capability to see the ‘BIG’ big picture. Noted theoretician Michael Molenda and I (Molenda & Subramony, 2021) recently propounded a new framework that presents a comprehensive, holistic view of the myriad factors (proximal, distal, and environmental/­ ecological) that impact instructed learning, and therefore ought to be taken into account while conducting an instructional analysis. Our expanded framework incorporates many factors that have traditionally not been taken into consideration by instructional designers. Some of these factors are within one’s direct control as an instructor/facilitator; for example, one’s instructional methods and materials, one’s own knowledge and attitudes and dispositions, and aspects of one’s classroom environment. Others might not be directly controllable, but could be indirectly influenced; for instance, one’s learners’ psychological states and consequently their motivation and efforts to learn, along with aspects of one’s school environment. Yet a vast array of more distal environmental/ecological factors may be neither controllable nor

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  193

influenceable, but nevertheless they must be recognized/acknowledged and accommodated/mitigated. These include peer and home/family i­nfluences and pressures, the impact of mass and social media, and other sociocultural variables. Also harder for one to control or influence as an instructor/ facilitator are factors inherent within one’s learners, such as their psychological traits and aptitudes. I encouraged my mentees to take the aforementioned factors into account while proposing their respective technology-based educational initiatives and interventions, and for the most part, they did very well in this regard. They were assisted by their immersive experiences that helped produce a profoundly personal, intimate awareness of the vast sociocultural differences between the United States and home, and a deep realization that what works here may not work there—and vice versa.

6.2 Straddling Two Worlds Years ago, I conducted a detailed quasi-ethnographic study (Subramony, 2006) of the complicated sociocultural impact of technology-rich K–12 schools on the deeply traditional native Iñupiat stakeholders served by Alaska’s North Slope Borough (NSB) School District (NSBSD). The expensive, cutting-edge ECT infrastructure of the NSBSD’s schools was largely funded by oil revenues (the Iñupiat exercised control over the bountiful oilfields within the enormous NSB that occupies most of the Alaskan landmass north of the Arctic Circle) and formed part of a wider effort by the territory’s Iñupiat leaders to harness the power of ‘modern’ technology to improve the quality of life across its harsh, Arctic landscape. When I  started familiarizing myself with Saudi Arabia’s physical geography, its traditional society and culture, and its recent oil-fueled socioeconomic development, I could not help but see significant ecological parallels with what I observed during my fieldwork up in the Alaskan Arctic. In each case we have: 1) an unusually harsh and inhospitable physical environment/ climate, whether frigid Arctic tundra or searing subtropical desert; 2) a distinct set of cultural traditions and values that evolved specifically to permit and optimally sustain human life within said physical environment/climate, and a set of communities that prioritize a collective ethos, cooperation, and social cohesion as a matter of survival; 3) a deeply traditional lifestyle presumably unaffected by Western socioeconomic and cultural trends until well into the 20th century; and 4) head-spinning, disorienting socioeconomic

194  Deepak Prem Subramony

transformation and material prosperity in recent decades following the discovery and exploitation of abundant fossil fuel reserves. What ensued following the aggressive, wholesale integration of ECT into NSBSD schools, along with similar infusions of technology into other spheres of human activity within the NSB, was the creation of a generation of younger Iñupiat who were faced with the difficult task of inhabiting two mutually exclusive worlds simultaneously—akin to the Chinese traditional expression of ‘standing in two boats’ with one foot in each. There was the world of school, steeped in Western educational ideologies and technologies and espousing Western notions and standards of success, which had nothing to do with the world of home and community that adhered to often diametrically opposite values, goals, and priorities. One particularly tragic consequence of the arrival of oil-fueled ‘modernity’ in the Alaskan Arctic has been a dramatic uptick in alcoholism, drug abuse, domestic violence, suicide, and other forms of self-harm within Iñupiat communities. One critical difference between the NSB and Saudi Arabia is that the Borough is a semi-autonomous subnational entity within the much larger, and quintessentially Western, political system of the United States, while the Kingdom is a sovereign entity with full freedom to set social, cultural, and economic policy. The latter’s independence, its economic and political strength, and its physical distance from the West may well enable it to avoid—or at least weaken and mitigate—issues like those confronting the former. Nevertheless, I reminded my mentees how extremely important it is that school and home culture be congruent in terms of their respective values, goals, and priorities, and to always evaluate any potential technology-based educational initiative or intervention in light of this vital consideration.

6.3 Cultural Trojan Horses Visionaries like Chet Bowers (Bowers, 2000; Bowers, Vasquez, & Roaf, 2000) have long emphasized that technology is not culturally neutral, seeking to dispel a pernicious, widely believed myth invented by technology vendors to characterize and sell their products as universally applicable, relevant, and appropriate solutions to human performance problems worldwide. As Bowers explained, technology vendors have multi-billion-dollar reasons to convince you that their wares are culture/value-neutral, while, on the contrary, every product and process technology has encoded and embedded within it the cultural values of its creator.

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  195

In my classes, I often use expressways as an example. I shared this example with my Saudi mentees as well. The modern expressway is definitely a Western concept. While it originated in Germany, the United States served as the first setting for its continent-wide implementation, as the country set about building its Eisenhower Interstate System starting in the 1950s. We may think of the expressway as a technology for getting people and goods from A to B, and it does not take too long to notice an entire culture that has arisen in its wake—a culture physically manifested in vast truck-stops, enormous billboards, supertall Golden Arches™, cookie-cutter chain motels, and Cracker Barrel™. This culture also assumes certain values as being more important than others; for example, speed, volume, efficiency, and monetary profits are far more important to it than smelling the roses, protecting the environment, supporting small towns, and beautifying the landscape. The tangle of freeways crisscrossing Los Angeles is brutally ugly, but this does not appear to bother anyone. And when non-Western nations build expressways across their territories, as India started doing in the early 2000s, some of the aforementioned physical and valuative cultural elements also show up uninvited, because they appear to be inherent to the cultural concept of an expressway. I have therefore long believed that technologies function as cultural Trojan horses.5 When a people adopt another people’s technology, they are also opening themselves up to be infiltrated by the latter’s cultural values. Those on the receiving end of said technology, therefore, need to be able to make an informed decision if they indeed want to be infiltrated by the values accompanying imported technologies. At the very least, receiving local contexts need to be cognizant of these values, so that they can take measures to mitigate their influence if necessary. The question of whether adopting a particular alien cultural value is a good idea or not is one that needs to be answered not from an etic perspective but from an emic one. We discussed how technology has already fueled some significant cultural changes within Saudi society such as: 1) allowing freer gender-mixing within online spaces; 2) accepting cameras; 3) reintroducing cinemas; and 4) permitting women to drive vehicles. Whether these changes are desirable or not is a decision that the Saudi people need to make, not anybody else. While talking to my mentees about their proposed technologybased educational initiatives and interventions, I encouraged them to determine the cultural values that might be embedded within and embodied by said technologies, and consider if the introduction of those values into their classroom—and, by extension, into their society—was something they deemed desirable.

196  Deepak Prem Subramony

6.4 Digital Colonialism Finally, I would like to bring up the issue of digital colonialism, a complex phenomenon with multiple ramifications, as something of which to be cognizant when considering any cross-cultural application of Western technology-based performance solutions. According to Marker, Vestergaard, and Hendricks (2019), digital colonialism involves the extraction of data by Western technology companies, advertising agencies, and consultancy firms via Western communication networks from citizens of the Global South without the explicit consent of the latter. It also manifests as the digitizing of indigenous data and information for commercial gains and/or to advance scientific/technological research without fully informed consent (Taiuru, 2015). Technology has always been intimately enmeshed with and deemed a prime engine/driver of the Western imperialist enterprise. Cutting-edge sailing ships and weapons enabled Spain to colonize most of the Americas as well as the Philippines, and Portugal to occupy Brazil, much of Africa, and parts of Asia. Steamships, trains, and even more advanced weaponry allowed later imperialist powers located further to the north in Europe to settle North America, Southern Africa, and Oceania, and to subjugate and plunder whichever parts of Africa and Asia the Portuguese had not yet managed to conquer. As a child growing up in India, I was taught in school about the fabled ‘immediate cause’ of our 1857 rebellion against British colonial rule. Spearheaded by sepoys (native soldiers enlisted in the British colonial army), the rebellion represented the figurative bursting of a dam of anti-British resentment that had built up over a century, and was finally sparked by a technology issue. The British masters had recently issued new rifle cartridges to the sepoys, and rumors soon spread that said cartridges were greased either with beef-fat, enraging the Hindu sepoys, or pork-fat, infuriating the Muslim sepoys. A mutiny ensued, which quickly escalated into a full-fledged war of independence that almost succeeded in driving the British imperialists out of the Subcontinent a full 90  years before their eventual departure in 1947. As Kwet (2019) explains, analogous to the technological architecture of ‘classic’ colonialism, digital colonialism is also rooted in the design of the technological ecosystem for the purposes of profit and plunder. If railways and maritime trade routes were the ‘open veins’ of the colonized lands back then, digital infrastructure takes on the same role today. Western technology corporations use proprietary technologies to spy on users across the Global South, process their extracted data, and use said data to create manufactured

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  197

services to sell back to them, just as Britain used to extract raw materials from India and Africa, transform them into value-added manufactured goods in British factories, and sell said goods back to her Indian and African colonial subjects at exorbitant prices for huge profits. In talking to my mentees regarding the appropriateness of their proposed technology-based educational initiatives and interventions, I  made sure to bring up the issue of digital colonialism, because this issue is germane to any situation in which a people adopt another people’s technology. Until a society becomes self-sufficient in indigenously meeting all of its technological needs, it will constantly remain vulnerable to digital colonialism.

Summary My pedagogical approach to in-service teacher education (Subramony, 2012) has been to foster teachers’ leadership skills by encouraging them to think systemically—to think outside their classroom—as the first step in becoming visionary agents of positive social change. To this end, I  attempted, in this chapter, to leverage the context of an international, cross-cultural professional mentoring experience, featuring myself as a Western-educated and trained mentor and Saudi in-service K–12 teachers as mentees, along with all the complexities inherent in our respective intersectional positionalities, to frame a set of critical considerations that need to be taken into account during any attempt at introducing Western technology-based performance solutions into non-Western sociocultural ecologies. As part of advocating an ecological approach to educational technology scholarship and praxis, I wanted, via this chapter, to discuss relevant issues including the narrowness of the traditional ‘systemic’ vision espoused by instructional systems designers, the propensity of inappropriate cross-cultural applications of technology-based solutions to do more harm than good, the cultural non-neutrality of technology, and digital colonialism. I believe it is especially vital for these concerns to be acknowledged and addressed, given our field’s lack of formal professional licensing and universally enforceable ethical codes.

Issues in Brief While theory and praxis are widely understood as being integral to any professional field, politics and advocacy are equally central, albeit less widely acknowledged, professional processes. Historically, the politics and advocacy

198  Deepak Prem Subramony

associated with our field of educational technology have long been rooted in the traditions of Western patriarchy and technocentrism. Our advocacy has thus largely entailed the crossing of Western sociocultural ecology into that of mostly invisible others living in distal, non-Western places, reflecting a purely Western posturing of the diffusion of innovations. Contemporary attempts at cross/intercultural exchange challenge this long-established status quo, as we now see other, newly financially empowered countries sending their specially selected envoys to sample and curate from inside our ecology to bring back to theirs. Notwithstanding changes in the balance of economic power, Western modernistic forces still remain hard at work, obliging us to be mindful of how our own cultural values are embodied by and transmitted via our technologies that pose as cultural Trojan horses. Only then can we ensure that we, as professionals, are indeed doing more good than harm.

Key Messages •

Educational technologists are seeing our scholarship and praxis impact progressively more diverse stakeholders around the globe. However, we as a field are yet to put in place formal professional licensing processes and universally enforceable ethical codes, leaving us to self-regulate to the best of our ability. This greatly increases our potential to do harm instead of good. • An ecological approach to our scholarship and praxis is a logical next step in the evolution of our field into one that is 21st-century–ready. This requires seeing personal and social relationships as part of meaning making in an increasingly diverse, interconnected, globalized world, and recognizing learning as spanning multiple human contexts such that our and our stakeholders’ history, culture, race, politics, etc. all matter and need to be taken into account within our scholarship and praxis. • Every product and process technology has encoded and embedded within it the cultural values of its creator, thus enabling it to function as a cultural Trojan horse. When a people adopt another people’s technology, they open themselves up to be infiltrated by the latter’s cultural values. Those on the receiving end of said technology therefore need to be able to make an informed decision if they indeed want to be infiltrated by the values accompanying it. At the very least, they need to be cognizant of these values, so that they can take measures to mitigate their influence, if necessary.

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  199

Reflection Questions • How would you respond to a classmate who questions: “Why is it important that non-Western societies get to retain their cultural identities? What’s the big deal, really, if non-Western peoples get acculturated and assimilated into Western culture? After all, look at how much success Western civilization has achieved, in terms of economic growth and human development, since the Renaissance. Clearly it represents a superior culture! In any case, wouldn’t communication be easier, and wouldn’t it be way better for business if the entire planet spoke the English language and shared similar cultural attributes and values?” • How would you respond to an instructor who declares: “Technology has to be culturally neutral, since technology is based on scientific and mathematical knowledge, and scientific and mathematical laws/rules apply universally across all cultures. For example, Newton’s Laws of Motion apply to every nation without exception, and 2 + 2 = 4 on every continent.” • How would you respond to a colleague who taunts: “So you claim that Western technology companies like Google, Facebook, Apple, etc., are engaging in digital colonialism. Now tell me: What would our world and your life be like if these corporations didn’t exist?”

Notes 1. As the renowned Ghanaian-American philosopher Kwame A. Appiah noted, “­ Western” and “non-Western” are broad, all-encompassing terms, coined in opposition to each other, and with both denoting different things at different times. In the past, non-Western was generally synonymous with “Eastern”—whether said Eastern referred to folks like me who grew up in a former British colony located to the east of the Suez Canal, or to folks like my spouse who grew up under a communist regime located to the east of the Iron Curtain—but of late, it has generally denoted the “Global South,” as in Africa, Asia and Latin America. In recent years, Western often refers to the North Atlantic, i.e. to Europe and its two wealthy former colonies in North America—even though many Latin Americans claim a Western inheritance, too—along with Australia, New Zealand, and white South Africa; ‘Western’ can thus look very much like a euphemism for ‘white’ (Appiah, 2016). 2. In Europe, the term information and communications technologies (ICT) appears to be more preferred. 3. Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer or questioning, and intersex. 4. I use quotation marks when using forms of the word ‘modern’ within this chapter, since popular, mainstream notions of modernity tend to espouse a heavily and unapologetically Western, Eurocentric perspective.

200  Deepak Prem Subramony 5. This metaphor of technology as a ‘Trojan horse’ transporting something else hidden within its figurative belly appears to be catching on lately—see Comstock (2016), Robinette (2018), and Lossec, Millar, Curcher, and Teräs (2020).

References Adereth, M. (2020). The United States has a long history of mutual aid organizing. Retrieved from www.jacobinmag.com/2020/06/mutual-aid-united-states-unions Al Ohali, Y., Al Suhaibani, A., Palavitsinis, N.,  & Koutoumanos, A. (2018, January  1). Digital transformation of education in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia: Deploying a country-wide learning management system for k-12 education. European Conference on e-Learning, 1–18. Appiah, K. A. (2016, November 9). There is no such thing as western civilisation. Retrieved from www.theguardian.com/world/2016/nov/09/western-civilisation-appiah-reith-lecture Association for Educational Communications and Technology. (2018). AECT code of ­professional ethics 2018. Retrieved from www.aect.org/docs/AECT_Code_of_EthicCurrent.pdf Bowers, C. A. (2000). Let them eat data: How computers affect education, cultural diversity, and the prospects of ecological sustainability. Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press. Bowers, C. A., Vasquez, M., & Roaf, M. (2000). Native people and the challenge of computers: Reservation schools, individualism, and consumerism. American Indian Quarterly, 24(2), 182–199. Central Intelligence Agency. (2020). The world factbook: Saudi Arabia. Retrieved from www. cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/sa.html Chakravorty, S., Kapur, D.,  & Singh, N. (2016). The other one percent: Indians in America. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Collins, P. H. (1993). Toward a new vision: Race, class, and gender as categories of analysis and connection. Race, Sex, and Class, 1(1), 25–45. Comstock, J. (2016, April 6). HHS CTO: Technology in healthcare is a trojan horse for culture change. Retrieved from www.mobihealthnews.com/content/hhs-cto-technologyhealthcare-trojan-horse-culture-change Crenshaw, K. (1991). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), 1241–1299. Definition and Terminology Committee of the Association for Educational Communications and Technology. (2007). Definition. In A. Januszewski & M. Molenda (Eds.), Educational technology: A definition with commentary (pp. 1–14). New York: Routledge. Emba, C. (2015). Intersectionality. Retrieved from www.washingtonpost.com/news/ in-theory/wp/2015/09/21/intersectionality-a-primer The Embassy of The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. (2020). About Saudi Arabia: Education. Retrieved from www.saudiembassy.net/education. Equaldex. (2020). LGBT rights in Saudi Arabia. Retrieved from www.equaldex.com/region/ saudi-arabia Evason, N. (2019). Saudi Arabian culture. Retrieved from https://culturalatlas.sbs.com.au/ saudi-arabian-culture

On Being Proficient Enough to Do (No) Harm  201 Jamison, P. K. (1992). Adopting a critical stance towards technology and education: The possibility for liberatory technology in an information technology age (Unpublished Dissertation). Indianapolis: Indiana University. Kwet, M. (2019). Digital colonialism is threatening the global south. Retrieved from www.aljazeera. com/opinions/2019/3/13/digital-colonialism-is-threatening-the-global-south Liloia, A. (2019). Saudi women are fighting for their freedom—and their hard-won victories are growing. Retrieved from https://theconversation.com/saudi-women-are-fighting-fortheir-freedom-and-their-hard-won-victories-are-growing-121610 Lossec, N., Millar, N., Curcher, M., & Teräs, M. (2020, July 6). Emergency pivot to online learning. Retrieved from www.digitalcultureandeducation.com/reflections-on-covid19/ the-edtech-trojan-horse-a-critical-narrative-of-the-emergency-pivot-to-online-learning Marker, S. L., Vestergaard, M., & Hendricks, V. F. (2019). Digital colonialism on the African continent. African Statistical Newsletter, 10(1), 6. McIntosh, P. (1988). White privilege and male privilege: A personal account of coming to see correspondences through work in women’s studies. Wellesley, MA: Wellesley College Center for Research on Women. Ministry of Education. (2020). The future gate: Digital transformation of k-12 education in Saudi Arabia. Retrieved from https://fg.moe.gov.sa Molenda, M. H., & Subramony, D. P. (2021). The elements of instruction: A framework for the age of emerging technologies. New York: Routledge. Nereim, V. (2020, September 30). Saudi economy shrank 7%, unemployment at record as virus hit. Retrieved from www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-09-30/saudi-economyshrank-7-in-second-quarter-as-virus-oil-hit-hard Prashad, V. (2001). The karma of brown folk. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Richards, C., & Barker, M. J. (2015). The Palgrave handbook of the psychology of sexuality and gender. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Robinette, J. (2018, May 2). The technological trojan horse. Retrieved from https://content. acsa.org/leadership-extra/the-technological-trojan-horse Saudi Vision 2030. (2020). Vision 2030: Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Retrieved from https:// vision2030.gov.sa/en Schiffman, S. S. (1986). Instructional systems design: Five views of the field. Journal of Instructional Development, 9(4), 14–21. Subramony, D. P. (2004). Instructional technologists’ inattention to issues of cultural diversity among learners. Educational Technology, 44(4), 19–24. Subramony, D. P. (2006). Culturally and geographically relevant performance interventions: A  case study from Arctic Alaska. Performance Improvement Quarterly, 19(2), 115–134. Subramony, D. P. (2007). Education, technology, and the Asian-American community: Forging a unique identity in the face of unique challenges. Educational Technology, 47(4), 24–32. Subramony, D. P. (2010). Asian American perspectives on education and technology. In H. Song & T. Kidd (Eds.), Handbook of research on human performance and instructional technology (pp. 431–444). Hershey, PA: Information Science Reference. Subramony, D. P. (2012). Implementing technological solutions within K-12 contexts: A comprehensive route guide. Educational Technology, 52(5), 14–19.

202  Deepak Prem Subramony Subramony, D. P. (2017). Revisiting instructional technologists’ inattention to issues of cultural diversity among stakeholders. In R. Joseph & J. L. Moore (Eds.), Culture, learning and technology: Research and practice (Ch. 3, pp. 28–43). New York: Routledge. Taiuru, K. (2015, July 23). Definition: Digital colonialism. Retrieved from www.taiuru.maori. nz/definition-digital-colonialism. Thomas, M., Mitchell, M., & Joseph, R. (2002). The third dimension of ADDIE: A cultural embrace. TechTrends, 46(2), 40–45. World Education Network (WEN). (2021). The Saudi Arabia k-12 education system. Retrieved from https://www.saudiarabiaeducation.info/k12/saudi-arabia-k-12-education-system. html.

Index

Note: Boldface page references indicate tables. Italic references indicate figures. acquisition: of digital literacy 68; of additional languages 49; literacy 49; reading 52 adapting 9, 21, 42, 112, 127, 149 – 151, 165, 170, 188 adopting 25, 29, 31, 36 – 37, 44, 63, 81, 99, 142, 146, 183, 195, 197 advocacy 6, 12 – 13, 87, 94, 97, 103, 187, 197 – 198 aesthetics 11, 111, 127 affordance of technology 134, 149, 171 – 172 Afrocentricity/Afrocentric paradigm 133, 146 – 147 agency 11, 26, 37, 99, 105 agonism/agonistic approach 5 – 6, 139 – 140 Alaskan Arctic community/people 193 – 194 Allwood, J. 170 Al Ohali, Y. 191 Al Suhaibani, A. 191 ancestors 9, 24, 90, 139 Ancient civilization 23 – 24, 115, 119 anthropological point of view 22, 25 anti-oppressive research 20 – 21 Anwar, M. 10 Appiah, K. A. 183, 199n1 Arab culture see Bedouin tribes; Saudi Arabia Argentina, multilingualism in 50 – 55, 53 artifacts 88, 99, 133, 164, 166 Artificial Intelligence (AI) systems 143, 145 – 146

Asante, M. K. 146 Asiedu, C. 48 Association for Educational Communications and Technology (AECT) 180 ayllu system 118 Aymara indigenous community/people: background information 117 – 118; community and organizational form of 117 – 118, 123; cultural content in ICT-supported education 119 – 122, 123; diversity and 11, 115; education of 11, 120 – 122; festivals of 118 – 119; inclusivity of 119 – 122; language of 114 – 116, 116, 119 – 120; lifestyle of 122, 123; local level of school system and 122, 126 – 127; multiculturalism and 119 – 122; national level of school system and 119 – 120, 123 – 124; overview 11; power and 110, 125; preservation of culture and 115; regional level of school system and 120 – 122, 124 – 125; Technology-Based Secondary Education initiative and 51; values of 118 Bangladesh village communities see PROTIC project Banglish language 19 Bedouin tribes 164, 187; see also Saudi Arabia belonging 6, 102 – 103, 109, 165 – 166, 184 Bengali language 18 – 19, 30, 32 – 33

204 Index Bengali village communities see PROTIC project Bhatta, S. D. 112, 124 Bilingual Intercultural Education (Educación Intercultural Bilingüe [EIB]) 51 bilingualism 50 – 54, 110, 115 – 117, 119 – 120, 123 biodiversity 8 – 9; see also diversity birthright 45 Blake, E. 11 – 12 blindness 163, 169 Bødker, S. 163, 169 borders 7, 94 Botha, L. R. 139 boundary spaces 12, 162 – 164, 173 Bowers, C. 194 Braa, J. 165 bride 171 bride-in-wedding traditions 170 Bridges for the Future Initiative project 50, 52 Bronfenbrenner, U. 45 burden 97 – 98, 172 Caldas, F. 51 Capability Approach 17 – 18 capability to see ‘BIG’ picture 192 Capture dimension of Information Continuum Model 27, 28, 31, 36 capturing (reductionist approach) 167, 169 – 172 CARE Perú 121 Carlisle Indian Industrial School 92 Castillo, N. M. 49 categorization 3, 150 Chakravorty, S. 184 chronological sequencing 3 chronosystems 45 civilization: Ancient 23 – 24, 115, 119; Eastern 199n1; non-Western 102 – 103, 195, 199n1; see also Western civilization Code of Professional Ethics 180 co-design methods coexist 24, 101 – 102, 110 – 111, 118 collaboration: co-design toolbox and 163 – 164; digital literacy and 65; Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology and 11, 80 – 82; hierarchical 80; with indigenous community/ people 132 – 133, 142 – 143, 147 – 150, 170, 173 – 175; intra-level 80; between

local community and researchers and technology designers 12, 132 – 133, 162; multistage 80; with Ovahimba indigenous community/people 142 – 143; participatory design and 161, 163, 165; of PROTIC project 18; sustainability and 104; of Technology-Based Secondary Education initiative 51; Western civilization’s patterns of 150 Collado, J. 110 collateral damage 180 colonialism/colonization 4, 26, 96 – 97, 196 – 197; see also neocolonialism communal assembly 118 communal expression/identity 20, 22 – 23, 30 – 32, 152 community see indigenous community and people; local community and people; traditional community and people community-based co-design (CBCD) of technologies 147, 150 – 151 community consensus 146, 173 – 174 Community-Pluralization Continuum Model 27 – 29, 28 complex roles of ICT 55 – 56 computer-based training (CBT) modules 184 Conectar Igualdad (Connecting Equality) program 51 conquering of knowledge and religion 97, 196 constructivism 164 context-appropriate digital literacy education 11, 64 context-relative curriculum 121 – 122, 125 corpus planning 45 cosmologies, plurality of 102 COVID-19 pandemic 42, 54, 185, 189 Create dimension of Information Continuum Model 27, 28, 31, 36 Crenshaw, K. M. 182 – 183 cultural destruction 89 cultural diversity 11, 110 – 112, 115, 126 cultural heritage 166; see also intangible cultural heritage (ICH) cultural pluralism 10, 101 – 103 cultural relevance 111 cultural sustainability see sustainability of cultural life cultural theory of ICT4L 100 – 105, 104 cultural Trojan horses 194 – 195, 198 cultural way 89 – 90 culture: conception of 91; gendered 35 – 36, 38; genocide 94; ICT4L and 87 – 88;

Index  205 instructional design and 87 – 90; learning and violence against 91; manifestations of 115, 118, 166, 169, 195 – 196; plurality of 102; Saudi Arabian 187 – 189; systems grounded in 90; transmission of 6, 18, 27 – 28, 96, 120, 167; ubiquitous, global 95; writing about 89; see also sustainability of cultural life; transfer of culture curating/curators 12, 104, 161, 167, 175, 198 cyberbullying 32, 34 cybersafety and cybersecurity 32 – 34, 37 cyberspace 111 – 112, 124 cynosure 164 damage, collateral 180 data cultures 18, 23 Decade of Indigenous Languages (2022– 2032) 43, 48 decentralized curriculum 121 declarations see specific name decolonizing education 139 deficient others 5, 133 de la Torre, J. 61 – 62 democracy 99, 118, 151, 165 democratizing knowledge 151 – 152 descendants 24, 90, 139 design 12; see also specific method destruction 89, 94, 100, 103, 133 destructional design/designer 89, 91 – 94, 97, 105 development perspective/thinking 4, 9 – 11, 18, 37, 133; see also specific development project dichroism 167 diffusion 6, 44, 198 DigComp framework 65 digital colonialism 196 – 197 digital literacy (DL): acquisition 68; challenges to developing 63; collaboration and 65; competences 62 – 63, 78; defining 61 – 62; digital technologies and 61; ecological perspective 62 – 64; empowerment for 64; ETS iCritical Thinking and 63; frameworks 62, 64 – 66; Global Framework of Reference on 64 – 68; local contexts of 62 – 64, 68, 80; in macro-level population 62 – 64; new competences and 78; overview 11; performance 64, 78; PROTIC project workshop 30 – 32; see also

Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology: case comparisons of digital technologies usage 69, 70 – 77, 78; collaboration and 11, 80 – 82; contextsensitive approach and 69; design of 68; empowerment and 79; example cases and, developing 68 – 69; implications for community stakeholders 79 – 80; inclusivity of 79 – 80; local community’s needs and 11; local context and 68, 80 – 82; overview 11, 80 – 82; progressions of digital literacy competences and 69, 78; spread of digital technologies and 80 dignity, human 17 discourse 6, 87, 110, 138 – 140, 148, 174, 192 discrimination 50, 111, 137, 183 disengagement 23 disrespectful behavior 21, 136, 138 distancing 23 diversity: Aymara indigenous people and 11, 115; cultural 11, 109 – 112, 115, 126; digital technological development and 109; ecological 119 – 122, 123; epistemological 140; ICT and cultural 112, 127; identity and 166; institutional support for 111 – 112; linguistic 48 – 49, 48 – 50, 52 Doron, A. 25 double hermeneutic effect 18, 29, 36 Eastern civilization 199n1 ecological diversity 119 – 122, 123 ecological systems model 45 ecology: environmental 25; information 10, 17, 22 – 23, 25, 28, 37 – 38; linguistic 46; multicultural 115; see also learning ecologies ecosystems 91, 196 education: of Aymara indigenous people 11, 120 – 122; bilingual 50 – 52, 110, 115 – 117, 119 – 120, 123; cultural diversity in 11, 109 – 112; decentralized curriculum and 121; decolonizing 139; equitable 43; global values and 96; ICT and 3 – 5, 12 – 13, 49; inclusive 50, 53; information age colonialism and 97; mainstream 3, 133 – 134; Native American 11, 92 – 94; in Saudi Arabia 190; universal right to 95; Western civilization 3; see also learning Education 2030 Framework for Action 43

206 Index educational and communications technology (ECT) 183, 191 educational technologies 179 – 180, 198 Edured program 117 efficiency 88, 195 Ehn, P. 163, 165 Ellison, R. 90 emancipatory methods 104; see also participatory design (PD) emancipatory self-reflection 29 empowerment: for digital literacy 64; Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology and 79; economic 198; Future Gate initiative and 191; ICT and 109 – 110; inclusion and 120; of indigenous community/people 11, 48, 122, 127 – 128; neoliberalism and 97 – 98; PROTIC and 19; of refugees 67; of rural women 19; of students 122, 126 enabling see empowerment enforceable ethics, universally 180, 198 engagement 38, 64, 80, 138, 146, 148 – 149, 152, 162 English language, rise of 95 epistemological diversity 140 epistemologies 11, 133 – 134, 138, 140 – 141, 143, 146 – 149, 151 – 152 equality/equity 43, 55, 109, 112, 116, 143 ethics 13, 32, 38, 96, 98, 101, 103, 118, 143, 146, 148, 174, 180, 182, 187, 197 – 198 ethnicity 50 ETS iCritical Thinking 63 Evason, N. 185 – 187 exclusivity/exclusion 111 – 112, 151 – 152 exosystems 45 faraway places 5 farmers 19, 28, 70 – 76, 78 – 80 far-reaching roles of ICT 55 – 56 Faustian bargains 98 Feeberg, A. 99 should be Feenberg festivals of Aymara 118 – 119 folklore 111, 118, 170 formal: economy 9; knowledge transmission 21, 25, 136, 139; learning 5, 133, 135, 137 – 140, 148 – 149, 152, 167 – 168, 190; professionalization 180, 197 – 198; training 142; see also mainstream freedom 17, 30, 98, 101, 194 Frings-Hessami, V. 10 Future Gate initiative 191

Gallert, P. 11 – 12, 144, 150 García-Valcárcel Muñoz-Repiso, A. 51 gender 25 – 27, 35 – 36, 38, 183, 188, 190, 195 generations 6, 133, 136, 166, 183 – 184, 188 – 189, 194 genocide 94 geography 50, 112, 113, 126, 193 Giddens, A. 29 Giglitto, D. 165 Global Education Monitoring Report (2020) 43 Global Framework of Reference on Digital Literacy (GFDL) 64 – 68 globalization: design practice and 104, 104; ICT4L and 94 – 96, 100; instructional design and 94 – 96, 100; international languages and 56; local community/ people and 94 Global South 151, 199n1 Gonsalves, S.-L. R. 10 ‘grand repository’ 22 Grant, U. S. 93 grassroots co-design methods see co-design methods Greenbaum, J. 163 – 164 grounded design/methods 11, 90, 95, 101 – 105, 104, 139 Gumbi, P. 48 – 49 Habermasian lifeworld 95 Hailombe, O. 137 – 138 Hall, B. L. 151 Halskov, K. 164 harm 104, 194, 197 – 198; see also ‘proficient enough to do (no) harm’ harmony 8 – 9, 110, 118, 121 Hartwig, M. 111 Harvey, D. 97 – 98 Haugen, E. 45 hegemony 97, 127, 139 Heidegger, M. 89, 99 – 100 Hendricks, V. F. 196 hermeneutic process 18, 29, 36 heterogeneous 7, 139 hierarchical categorization 3 hierarchy 80, 82, 186 high-income people and countries 54, 64 – 65, 79, 81 homogenous/homogenization 89, 97, 146 Hoodia plant knowledge 140 Hornberger, N. H. 45 – 46

Index  207 Huascaran Project 117 human-centric network 29 Hussain, S. 165 ICT for Education (ICT4E): in Argentina 51 – 52, 54; as language driven 47; local community/people and 53; multilingualism and 46 – 47, 46, 52; in South Africa 52 – 55 ICT for learning (ICT4L): cultural theory of ICT for learning and 100 – 105, 104; culture and 87 – 88; globalization and 94 – 96, 100; instructional design and 87 – 89; international policy, process, and practice 93 – 100; local community/ people and 89; neocolonialism and 94, 96 – 97; neoliberalism and 94, 97 – 99; ‘One Laptop per Child’ and 97; processes influencing 93 – 94; ubiquity of 101, 149 identity: diversity and 166; of indigenous people 7 – 8, 121, 125 – 127, 135 – 136; intangible cultural heritage and 166, 168; intersectionality and 183 – 184; of knowledge holder editing on Wikipedia 150; language and 8; neocolonialism and 97; teacher 5; Western self 184; of youth 168 immersion, intellectual 146 imperialism 11, 88 Inca civilization 115 inclusivity/inclusion 43, 50, 53, 79, 111 – 112, 119 – 122, 142, 146 – 147, 151 – 152 indigenous bilingual education (IBE) 119 – 120, 123 – 124 indigenous community/people: ancestral knowledge of 9; anti-oppressive research on 20 – 21; attention being paid to 9; challenges facing 48; collaboration with 132 – 133, 142 – 143, 147 – 150, 170, 173 – 175; community-based co-design of technologies and 150 – 151; cyberspace and 111; as deficient others 133; defining 6 – 7, 7; design practice and 13; from development perspective 9; ecological framing of 4; as education partners 147 – 149; empowering 11, 19, 48; empowerment of 11; Faustian bargains and 98; focus on, reasons for 8 – 10; ICT in learning and 9 – 10; identity of 7 – 8, 121, 125 – 127, 135 – 136; international instruments and other legal framework

for 9; languages of 8, 47 – 48; number of worldwide 8, 47; participatory design and 165; preservation of 110; reflection on 6 – 7; representation of 6 – 8, 120; sustainability of cultural life of 9; tensions between Western civilization education systems and 138 – 140; transfer of culture and 112, 133, 149, 161, 175; see also specific community indigenous knowledge systems (IKS): Afrocentric paradigm and 133, 146 – 147; Artificial Intelligence systems and 143, 145 – 146; community consensus building and 146; ICT as integration enabler for 149 – 150; integration within mainstream educational institutes and 133 – 134, 147 – 152; learning ecologies and 149 – 150; overview 11 – 12, 132 – 134; recognition of 133; repositioning 140 – 147; shifting perspectives on 134 – 140; Sillitoe’s conception of 20 – 21; technologies embracing 149 – 150; tensions between digital knowledge repositories and 143 – 147, 151; tensions between Western and indigenous education and 138 – 140; Ubuntu paradigm and 133, 139 – 141; Western civilization and 133; Wikipedia and 144 – 145; see also Ovahimba tribe inequality/inequity 50, 55 – 56, 61, 114 Infoescuela program 117 informal learning 5, 138, 149, 167 – 168 information and communication technologies (ICT), term of 5, 199n2; see also ICT for Education (ICT4E); ICT for learning (ICT4L) Information Continuum Model 26 – 29, 31 information ecologies 10, 17, 22 – 23, 25, 28, 37 – 38 information, term of 39n2, 199n2 inhabitants, historical 7; see also specific community and culture in-service teacher education see mentoring visiting Saudi Arabian K–12 teachers instructional design (ID): background information 87 – 89; cultural criticism of 88; cultural theory of ICT for learning and 100 – 105, 104; culture and 87 – 90; destructional design and 89, 91 – 94; globalization and 94 – 96; grounded in culture, moving toward

208 Index 103 – 105, 104; ICT4L and 87 – 89; ICT and 87; instrumentalism and 94, 99 – 100; neocolonialism and 94, 96 – 97; neoliberalism and 94, 97 – 99; processes influencing 93 – 94; see also specific design method instructional systems design (ISD) 181 – 182 instrumentalism 89, 93 – 94, 99 – 100, 104 – 105, 104 intangible cultural heritage (ICH): capturing 171 – 172; defining 166; ICT and 167, 171 – 172; indigenous youth and, focus on 167 – 168; learning ecologies and, focus on 167 – 168; local context of 169 – 171, 175; Namibia’s indigenous communities and 165 – 171; participatory design and 174; reductionist approach and 169 – 172; revitalization of 167; safeguarding 4, 12, 133, 165 – 168, 170, 172, 175; transfer of 167, 171 – 172, 175; variance in, capturing 169 – 171 integration of indigenous knowledge systems 133 – 134, 147 – 152 intercultural bilingual education (IBE) 50, 110, 115 – 117, 120, 123 intergenerational 3D graphic learning application 150 International Society for Technology in Education (ISTE) 65 International Telecommunications Union (ITU) 43 interpretations 12, 22, 29, 32, 82, 133, 144, 164, 172 – 173, 187 intersectionality and intersectional positionalities 182 – 186, 197 intersections 22, 24, 28, 37, 43 – 44, 180 interventions 5, 23, 36, 47, 49, 52, 56, 110, 181 – 182, 191 – 195, 197 intolerance 24 Iñupiat community/people 193 – 194 Invisible Man (Ellison) 90 Jamison, P. K. 181 – 182 Johnson, D. C. 46 Joseph, R. 182 jute processing 28 Kill the Indian speech (Pratt) 93 knowledge, term of39n2 Knudsen, J. 163 Koruhama, A. K. 11 – 12 Koutoumanos, A. 191

Kurin, R. 167 Kwet, M. 196 Kyng, M. 163 labor/labor unions 98 landscape: Arctic 193; artistic and cultural 5, 12; ecological 5, 12, 195 language: acquisition of additional 49; of Aymara indigenous people 114 – 116, 116, 119 – 120; Banglish 19; Bengali 18 – 19, 30, 32 – 33; bilingualism and 50 – 54, 110, 115 – 117, 119 – 120, 123; discrimination 50, 137; English, rise of 95; globalization and international 56; identity and 8; of indigenous people 8, 47 – 48; of local community/people 48 – 50, 55 – 56; marginalization and 50; mother tongue 115; orientations to 45; in Peru 115 – 116, 116; in South Africa 50; see also multilingualism Language in Education policy 49 Language Planning and Policy (LPP) 11, 44 – 47, 52 – 54, 53 language as a resource framing 52 – 53, 53 Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC) region 50 law of the instrument 169 Law, N. W. Y. 11, 61 – 62 Layton, R. 100 Lazem, S. 165 learning: community consensus and 173 – 174; complexity of 5; contexts of 62 – 63; cultural theory of ICT for 100 – 105, 104; ecosystem 91; formal 5, 133, 135, 137 – 140, 148 – 149, 152, 167 – 168, 190; informal 5, 138, 149, 167 – 168; lifelong 5, 49; nonformal 5; pathway 116; perceptions about, existing 4; three-dimensional graphic 150; violence against culture and 91; see also education learning ecologies: advantages of concept 5, 13; historical perspective 44 – 45; ICT and 4 – 5; indigenous knowledge systems and 149 – 150; intangible cultural heritage and, focus on 167 – 168; international 5 – 6; mentoring visiting Saudi Arabian K–12 teachers and 181 – 182; Namibia’s indigenous communities and 167 – 168; Peruvian context 112, 113, 114 – 119, 114, 116; technology and 181 – 182 liberalization 98, 184

Index  209 licensing processes 180, 197 – 198 linguistics 20, 46, 48 – 50, 52 literacy: acquisition 49; digital technologies and 61; media 62; orality and 10, 25, 35 – 36; social 25 – 26; see also digital literacy (DL) local community/people: access to digital technology in 51; adapting by 42; Aymara 122, 123, 126 – 127; collaboration with researchers and technology designers and 12; cultural sustainability of 103; as curators of their own traditions 104; design practice and 13; Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology and needs of 11, 68, 80 – 82; digital technology/practice in context of 62 – 64, 66, 81, 134; Faustian bargains and 98; globalization and 94; ICT4E and 53; ICT4L and 89; ICT in education system and 10, 49 – 51; information ecology and 17; intangible cultural heritage and 169 – 171, 175; knowledge and information in 4, 88, 100 – 102, 121, 142, 163; language of 48 – 50, 55 – 56; participatory design and 165; preserving 101; reflection on 6; representation of 6; sustainability of cultural life of 103; transfer of culture and 18; transferring knowledge and 18; see also PROTIC project; specific community/people localization, de-emphasis of 94 low-income people and countries 19, 54, 67 Lubin, I. A. 10 – 11 Maasz, D. 11 – 12 macro-level population 62 – 64 macrosystems 45 Madsen, K. 163 mainstream education 3, 133 – 134, 199n4; see also formal Mallabarman, A. 25 manifestations of culture 115, 118, 166, 169, 195 – 196 manifest destiny, American 92, 94 marginalization 50, 109, 151 – 152 Marker, S. L. 196 Maslow’s hammer 169 matrilineal kinship 136 Mbiti, J. 139 media: audiovisual 149; digital technology usage and 66; information

flow and 23; literacy 62; multimedia resources 124; new 134; social 21, 34, 188, 193; traditional 54; training for farmers and 80 media selection approach 181 mentoring visiting Saudi Arabian K–12 teachers: analysis of 192 – 193; critical issues for consideration 191 – 197; digital colonialism and 196 – 197; educational technology and 181 – 182, 191; intersectional positionalities and 182 – 186; learning ecologies and 181 – 182; overview 12, 180 – 181; ‘proficient enough to do (no) harm’ and 12, 179 – 180, 186; public education K-12 and 190; Saudi economy and 189; Saudi society and culture and 187 – 189; systemic contexts 186 – 191; technology as not culturally neutral and 194 – 195; two worlds and, straddling 193 – 194 mesosystems 45 metalanguages 29 microsystems 45 minority status 184 – 185 Mitchell, M. 182 Mkabela, Q. 147 mobile devices 20, 25, 27, 38, 66 – 67, 70 – 76, 78 – 80, 114, 117, 174 model minority status 184 – 185 modernism/modernization 3, 6, 25, 88 – 89, 97, 100 – 101, 188, 193 – 195, 198, 199n4 Mohammed bin Salman (Saudi Crown Prince) 189 Molenda, M. 192 Monash University 18 mother tongue 115 Mouffe, C. 139 – 140 Muashekele, C. 11 – 12 Muhammad, Prophet 190 multiculturalism 119 – 122 multilingualism: in Argentina 50 – 55, 53; background information 42 – 43; conceptualizations of 44 – 45; defining 43 – 44; future for 56; ICT4E and 46 – 47, 46; ICT and 43 – 47, 55; inequality and 56; language planning and policy and 44 – 46; orientations to language and 45; overview 10 – 11; in post-COVID-19 world 55 – 56; in South Africa 48 – 50, 52 – 55, 53; technology and 55 multimedia resources 124 Mushiba, M. 144

210 Index Namibia’s indigenous communities: background information 161 – 162; community consensus and 173 – 174; ICT in 165; intangible cultural heritage and 165 – 171; learning ecologies and 167 – 168; overview 12; participatory design and 162 – 165; transfer of culture and 150; virtual reality game and 170, 173; youth in 167 – 168 National Bilingual and Intercultural Education Program 50 – 51 National Peruvian Census (2017) 115, 120 Native American education 11, 92 – 94 natives 7, 92, 94; see also indigenous community/ people neocolonialism 93 – 94, 96 – 97, 100, 104 neoliberalism 89, 93 – 94, 97 – 98, 100, 104 Nereim, V. 189 Nimoy, Leonard 91, 93 nonformal learning 5 non-governmental organizations (NGOs) 17, 62, 94; see also specific name non-Western civilization 102 – 103, 195, 199n1 North Slope Borough (NSB) School District (NSBSD) 193 – 194 Oliver, G. 10 ‘One Laptop per Child’ 97, 117 ontologies 4 oral culture and tradition see orality orality 10, 23 – 26, 35 – 36, 140, 144, 170 Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) 65 Organize dimension of Information Continuum Model 27, 28, 31, 36 OvaHerero indigenous community/people 169 – 172, 174 Ovahimba indigenous community/people (singular: Omuhimba): background information 132 – 134; deliberation by youth 135 – 136; ecologists’ encounter with 141 – 143, 141; parents’ concerns 137 – 138 Oxfam 18 – 20, 27, 32 Palavitsinis, N. 191 paradigm: Afrocentric 146 – 147; CBCD as 151; cultural pluralism and 101; Mouffe’s 139 – 140; research 141, 148; shift, radical 133; teaching 148 para-ecologists 143

participatory action research see PROTIC project participatory design (PD) 4, 12, 104, 162 – 165, 173 – 174 partnerships 121, 125, 161 pathway mapping methodology for digital literacy see Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology patriarchy 181, 186, 198 patrilineal kinship 136, 189 performance: artistic as form of communication 23; digital literacy, adequate 64, 68 – 69, 70, 78, 82; gaps, bridging 192; oral 144; photos of 172; setting of 145; solutions to human 12, 194, 196; technology-based 12, 180, 182, 192, 196 – 197; training and 91 perpetual foreigner syndrome 184 Peru: access to ICT in 114, 114, 120; Aymara cultural content in ICTsupported education in 119 – 122, 123; cultural diversity in 110, 115; Edured program in 117; geography of 112, 113, 126; implementation of ICT in 117; indigenous bilingual education in 119 – 120, 123 – 124; intercultural bilingual education in 115 – 117; language in 115 – 116, 116; learning ecologies in 112, 113, 114 – 119, 114, 116; local level of school system in 122, 126 – 127; national level of school system in 119 – 120, 123 – 124; ‘One Laptop per Child’ and 117; Proyecto Curricular Regional de Pruno in 121; Puno region in 120 – 121; regional curriculum in 120 – 122, 124 – 125; regional level of school system in 120 – 122, 124 – 125; sharing way of life in 122, 123, 126 – 127; value transmission in 120; see also Aymara indigenous people PeruEduca platform 120 Peruvian National Institute of Statistics and Informatics (INEI) 114 photogrammetry 171 planning acquisition 45 platform, online 32, 54, 120, 124, 148, 188 pluralism/plurality: of cosmologies 102; cultural 10, 101 – 103; of traditional community and people 102 Pluralize dimension of Information Continuum Model 27, 28, 31, 37 positionalities, intersectional 12, 182 – 186, 197

Index  211 post-apartheid South Africa 48 postcolonial period 97, 148 post-COVID-19 world 55 – 56 power 11, 110 – 112, 125 pragmatic rationale 36, 164 Prashad, V. 184 – 185 Pratt, R. H. 92 – 93 praxis 94, 179 – 182, 186, 192, 197 – 198 pre-Columbian period 115, 118 pre-Inca cultures 115 preservation 8, 10, 48, 110, 115, 147, 167, 189 Preston, A. 165 privatization 98 privilege 24, 37, 89, 170, 179, 183, 185 – 186, 189 professionalization 180, 197 – 198 ‘proficient enough to do (no) harm’ 12, 179 – 180, 186 PROTIC (Participatory Research and Ownership with Technology Information and Change) project: collaboration of 18; communities focused on 19; cybersafety workshop 32 – 34, 37; digital literacy workshop 30 – 32; double hermeneutic effect and 18, 29, 36; empowerment and 19; first stage of 19; information ecologies and 22 – 23; multicultural participation and 19 – 20; notebooks and brown paper sheets and 34 – 35; observations about 35 – 37; orality and textuality and 23 – 26; overview 30; setting of 18 – 20; social media and 21; village visit 34 – 35 Proyecto Curricular Regional de Puno (Regional Curriculum Project of Puno) 121 Puno Regional Directorate of Education 121 Qollas indigenous people see Aymara indigenous people Quality Education goal 43 Quechua indigenous people 115 radicalization 111 reading acquisition 52 reciprocity 116, 118, 119 recognition of cultural information 11, 21, 101, 105, 133, 143, 147 – 148, 152 recreator, cultural 91; see also destructional designer recursive process 27 – 28, 36

Reddy, N. N. 139 reductionism/reductionist approach 88, 169 – 172 refugees 67, 79 repositories 22, 142 – 147, 150 representations 6 – 8, 120, 134, 149, 166, 169 – 173, 175 repression 24 – 25 respectful behavior 110, 112, 118 – 119, 136, 138, 174, 180 responsibility 79, 140, 189 – 190 revitalization 47, 115, 116, 167 Ricento, T. K. 45 – 46 Roblin, N. P. 65 Rodil, K. 12 Rogoff, B. 89 – 90 safeguarding intangible cultural heritage 4, 12, 133, 165 – 168, 170, 172, 175 Salas-Pilco, S. Z. 11, 149 Sanders, E. 165 San indigenous people 140 Sarker, A. 10 Saudi Arabia: comparison with Alaskan Arctic and 193 – 194; critical issues to consider in 191 – 192; cultural changes in 195; cultural Trojan horses and 194 – 195; culture in 187 – 189; economy of 189; educational technology in 191; education in 190; Future Gate initiative in 191; geography of 193; Ministry of Education in 181, 191; patriarchy in 186; as Prophet Muhammad’s birthplace 187; see also mentoring visiting Saudi Arabian K-12 teachers Schiffman, S. 181 Schwen, T. 179, 186 – 187 self-harm 194 Shields, R. 96 – 97 Smith, M. N. 139 SMS capability 80 social literacy 25 – 26 social media 21, 34, 188, 193 socioeconomic context 4; see also Digital Literacy Pathway Mapping Methodology South Africa: Bridges for the Future Initiative project in 50, 52; ICT4E and 52 – 54; Language in Education policy in 49; languages in 50; multilingualism in 48 – 50, 52 – 55, 53; post-apartheid 48; White Paper on e-Education 49

212 Index sovereignty 94 Stanley, C. 11 – 12 status planning 45 Steinert, M. 165 Sillitoe, P. 20 – 22, 25, 28 Stillman, L. 10 Street, B. 37 Subramony, D. P. 12, 184, 186 – 187 substantive theory of technology 99 Suchman, L. 173 sustainability of cultural life: collaboration and 104; cultural 103, 110 – 111; of indigenous community/people 9; of local community/people 103; overview 12; priority of 110 – 111 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) 43, 65 Tandon, R. 151 teacher-scholars 181 technocentrism 198 technological ecosystem 196 Technology-Based Secondary Education initiative 51 terraforming device 91 textuality 23 – 26 Thomas, M. K. 11, 182, 185, 192 Tokoloshe indigenous community/people 170, 173 tolerance 111 tracking 190 traditional community/people: antioppressive research on 20 – 21; attention being paid to 9; Bengali villagers and 18; Capability Approach and 17 – 18; collective environments of 18; collective memory of 27 – 28; data cultures and 18; defining 20; design practice and 13; development perspective of 37; double hermeneutic effect and 18, 29, 36; Faustian bargains and 98; ICT in learning and 9 – 10; Information Continuum Model and 26 – 29, 28, 31; international instruments and other legal framework for 9; orality and textuality and 23 – 26; overview 17; plurality of 102; reflection on 6; representation of 6; transferring knowledge and 18; see also PROTIC project transfer of culture: digital tools for 134; educational systems and 138; indigenous

community/people and 112, 133, 149, 161, 175; of intangible cultural heritage 167, 171 – 172, 175; local community/ people and 18; Namibia indigenous communities and 150; oral 140, 144, 170; Western civilization and 150, 180; youth and 173 – 174 transitions 52, 54, 80 transmission of culture 6, 18, 27 – 28, 96, 120, 167 Traxler, J. 149 ‘tunnel design’ 22 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development 43 ubiquitous culture 95, 97 Ubuntu paradigm 133, 139 – 141 undervalued 7, 44, 47 UNESCO 95, 166 UNESCO Institute of Statistics for the GFDL project 66 United Nations (UN) 7, 95 United Nations (UN) Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples 21 United Nations (UN) Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) World Heritage 19 United Nations (UN) International Children’s Emergency Fund (UNICEF) 51, 95 United Nations (UN) Universal Declaration of Human Rights 95 United States Agency for International Development (USAID) 95 urbanization 133 van der Velden, M. 144 Vecco, M. 167 Vestergaard, M. 196 virtual reality (VR) game 170, 173 vocational skills/school 65, 190 Voogt, J. 65 Vrasidas, C. 164 vulnerability, economic 189 Wagner, D. A. 10, 46, 49 Western civilization: collaboration patterns of 150; concept of 183, 199n1; cultural Trojan horses and 194 – 195, 198; democracy; education 3; game narratives of 170, 173; identity of self 184; indigenous knowledge systems and

Index  213 133; local knowledge in 88; non-Western civilization versus, 199n1; patriarchy in 198; technocentrism in 198; technologybased performance in 180, 182, 192; technology in 196; tensions between indigenous education systems and 138 – 140; transfer of culture and 150, 180 White Paper on e-Education 49 Wikipedia 144 – 145 Winschiers-Theophilus, H. 11 – 12, 144 wisdom, collective 24 Wong, G. 61 – 62

Woo, D. J. 11, 61 – 62 World Bank 8, 67, 95 World Conference on Education for All 95 World Education Network (WEN) 190 World Health Organization (WHO) 7 worldviews 8, 103, 109, 116, 120 – 122, 125 – 127, 139, 143, 146, 149 – 150, 160, 169 writing and orality 26 Wu, A. P. 10 Year of Indigenous Languages (2019) 47 – 49