As technology pulls us into a truly global society, we are confronted with the need for future-forward teaching. This is especially obvious when studying the social sciences: most social studies curricula focus on students’ understanding of their role within their family unit, school, town, and state.
They do not emphasize making consistent connections to the world beyond the students’ own community. Without those connections, students don’t learn how the world that comes to them via technology relates to the world in which they go to school. The decontextualized bits of information that reach them from communities other than their own can lead to misunderstandings, mistrust, and division rather than an understanding of the rich variety of ways that people live, work, and interact. This does our students a disservice and has lasting, divisive effects on our country as a whole. Instead, we could be using technology to bring the world into our instruction, in the service of what the National Council for the Social Studies defines as global education, which “focuses on the interrelated nature of conditions, issues, trends, processes, and events” (NCSS Board of Directors 2016).
But the effects of technology in our students’ lives are not limited to their understandings of those who are distant from them. For the children who fill our classrooms today—the children who are now entering the stages of development when they begin to make sense of the world beyond themselves—technology is shaping the only reality they’ve ever known.
Young learners are on a constant quest to make sense of new information. They view themselves in juxtaposition with others, integrating new information about their peers into their existing schema (Piaget 1974). School is, for many children, the first time that they are tasked with learning in a large group environment where “we” becomes an important factor in learning, competing with the “me” focus students have had until this point. Inevitably, we see elementary-age children gravitate toward those who fall in line with their own identities or binary preferences: we like the same things; we have the same hat; we look the same; we are the same gender (Ziv and Banaji 2012). We also see this tendency toward binary thinking at work whenever we pull up alongside a reader to confer about a book and are met with a definitive “I like it” or “I don’t like it.” And, when these same children are given technological tools without further guidance, those same binary preferences persist in their online preferences: a cute cat video may lead them to thousands more cute cat videos, but not much else.
Meeting the Moment
Our role as teacher can reinforce these lines of division or break them down. The way we speak to, interact with, and manage students—whether intentional or unintentional—can reinforce these divisions and ask studentsto place themselves into a category that may make them uncomfortable. We can push students to think beyond a knee-jerk reaction to a book; introduce them to a new perspective; give students an opportunity to share their own stories and identities; and help them interact with, befriend, appreciate, and respect those who are different from themselves: all of these align with where they are on their developmental journey. We curate materials to ensure students can access multiple voices and stories. And, when we use technology thoughtfully and critically, it has the potential to be a powerful ally in this work. We share stories with our students so they can better understand others and themselves, and experience the wisdom of empathy.
Sadly, it’s not unusual for educators who emphasize children’s growth as humans to be met with pushback. Perhaps you’ve heard a colleague state that teaching empathy is not in their job description or that there isn’t enough time for social-emotional learning in the already-packed school day. Yet research has shown that “profound” empathy—the connection that develops “through close and frequent interaction” (Cooper 2010)—improves not only personal and social development, but academic development (Durlak 2018). Additionally, researchers have tracked organizations and seen gains in financial performance, growth, innovation, and productivity as a result of diversity in their teams, whether in terms of race, gender, or beliefs (Phillips 2014). As these diverse environments become more prevalent and valued, empathy is needed to ensure that all members of the community thrive. Empathy and the act of adding more voices to our learning aren’t “soft” skills; they’re essential skills.
We could try to limit students’ access to technology. But would that help them make sense of the world around them? To be critical thinkers and independent learners? To be resilient, empathetic humans? Or would it leave them powerless and unprepared when they eventually do encounter different perspectives or even untruths? Instead, we can look at this moment in their development and in our culture as history in the making. We can help our students develop well-researched, well-reasoned ideas and dispositions based on multiple perspectives. We can embrace this moment that gives students opportunities to grow both their empathy and their critical thinking. We can teach the skills our students need in the world today. Rather than fearing the devices that bring these stories, we can put them to use as empathy machines—tools that give students opportunities to build bridges rather than barriers.
