The Wake

We have many names. We are “Generation Y”, the “Millenials”, the “Echo Boomers” and the “Internet Generation,” but the last of the bunch seems to be the one that defines us most often. To other generations, we are inexplicably linked with that network of computer networks that developed and grew as we did.

From all the talk linking us with technology, you would think that we were born knowing how to type, our pudgy little fingers pounding the keys, or that we hesitantly blurted out “HTML” as our first word. With such a childhood, surely we must be at ease online. Not only at ease – at peace – and eager to log on to any website just for the sake of using it, regardless of its relative usefulness.

It would be so simple, perhaps, if we were those people, classified neatly as members of the Internet Generation. But we’re not. Well, not all of us, anyway.

Yes, I would rather do certain things online than over the phone or even in person. Without a relatively reliable access to the Internet, I am a bit of a lost soul. In part, though, it’s because being able to get online is such an integral part of a student’s life. Going without internet for a few days means potentially missing vital information. Enough excuses – I’ll just admit it. I am addicted to e-mail and Facebook, YouTube, and Wikipedia just as much as the person next to me in the coffee shop. And hooray for free Wi-Fi!

However, the reason that I love these things is not because of an inert desire to stare at a screen and rearrange pixels. It’s not because I like to think about my various wall posts flying around Espresso Royale in the form of mysterious waves, secretly traveling through the bodies of baristas and customers alike. (Although I do like to think about that.) Instead, it is because the parts of the Internet that I love the most are essentially just extensions of forms of communication that people have used for decades and, for that reason, they make sense and are useful to me.

But – call me old-fashioned – there are certain things that don’t transfer so well to the web. High on the list is almost every function of WebVista, the University’s “course management software that enables instructors to create and manage Web-based learning materials and activities.”

According to the U’s WebVista site, the University of Minnesota, “like over 1,500 other higher education institutions in over 50 countries, has chosen to provide instructors and students access to WebCT software to help them create and use Web-delivered learning environments.” By spring semester 2006, there were 1,674 course-related sites at the Twin Cities campus. The newly updated MyU portal is designed to improve access to even more WebVista sites.

It’s not exactly novel of me to say that I don’t like WebVista, but I don’t like WebVista. In fact, I can’t say that I know of any student who does like WebVista. All but one of my courses require use of it and, from what I’ve observed, this is considerably more usage than I remember from a few years ago.

And while the system does have a few benefits, the underlying ideas behind certain functions just seem flawed. For the most part, the flaws lie in the unnecessary, excessive, and/or redundant features that have not improved the University experience as much as they’ve taken away from and complicated it.

In some aspects, the line between useful and useless is a blurry one. Many courses with WebVista sites make lecture notes available online, which can be a handy resource for pre-midterm studying. However, the function is useless if it simply leads to professors’ rushing through parts of lectures under the pretense that “you don’t need to write it down, because it’s all online.” It may all be online, but I am still here now and intended to takes notes just once, not to look through all the slides an unnecessary second time.

My personal laziness aside, there are other hands-down pointless WebVista functions that have unfortunately weaseled their way into an otherwise sensible curriculum. Online discussion boards are awkward and just plain unnecessary. Distance learning is one thing but if the course actually meets in a classroom, why not just discuss in class? The same goes for online assignment submission. If you’re submitting a hard copy in class anyway, why upload it onto WebVista?

Someone more knowledgeable about technology than I could probably go on about poor site design and server downtime, but I’ll simply suggest we take a page from Facebook. What makes it effective? It taps into existing realities of social life – networking, storytelling, group building, partying, judging, etc. – and, adding a touch of innate voyeurism, extends all of that into an easily managed online world. However, Facebook would be useless if none of it existed in “real life.”

Facebook is essentially the telephone, with pictures. E-mail is just regular mail, only faster and less wasteful (discounting spam), YouTube is quite obviously just a television, except with more bizarre public-access cable shows than you could find anywhere else. And finally, Wikipedia is a free encyclopedia that anyone can edit: just like it says.

In my mind, all of these uses for the Internet work well because they are essentially just faster, funkier versions of things that have worked well for a long time. It’s the mailbox, telephone, television, newspaper, and certain parts of the library all blended together, just waiting for you to google something.

This is exactly where WebVista fumbles. There was never a need to contact everyone outside class for mandatory extra discussion, nor was it commonplace to turn in an assignment in multiple formats. And once upon a time, you either showed up to lecture and got the notes or didn’t and the professors handed you your grades and corrected assignments instead of posting them for you to look up later. Why add unnecessary complication? Technology for technology’s sake is a waste of time.