Book Announcement: Critical Foundations In Young Adult Literature

I am thrilled to announce the release of my first book, Critical Foundations in Young Adult Literature: Challenging Genres, from Sense Publishers.

Here is the book description:

Young Adult literature, from The Outsiders to Harry Potter, has helped shape the cultural landscape for adolescents perhaps more than any other form of consumable media in the twentieth and twenty-first century. With the rise of mega blockbuster films based on these books in recent years, the young adult genre is being co-opted by curious adult readers and by Hollywood producers. However, while the genre may be getting more readers than ever before, Young Adult literature remains exclusionary and problematic: few titles feature historically marginalized individuals, the books present heteronormative perspectives, and gender stereotypes continue to persist.

Taking a critical approach, Critical Foundations in Young Adult Literature: Challenging Genres offers educators, youth librarians, and students a set of strategies for unpacking, challenging, and transforming the assumptions of some of the genre’s most popular titles. Pushing the genre forward, Antero Garcia builds on his experiences as a former high school teacher to offer strategies for integrating Young Adult literature in a contemporary critical pedagogy through the use of participatory media.

Table of Contents

Preface. Young Adult Literature Comes of Age: The Blurring of Genre
in Popular Entertainment [Written by Paul Thomas]

Introduction. Reading Unease: Just Who, Exactly, Is Young Adult
Literature Made For?

1. Capitalism, Hollywood, and Adult Appropriation of Young
Adult Literature: The Harry Potter Effect

2. More than Mango Street: Race, Multiculturalism and YA

3. Outsiders?: Exclusion and Post-Colonial Theory

4. Gender and Sexuality and YA: Constructions of Identity and Gender

5. Pedagogy of the Demonically Possessed: Critical Pedagogy
and Popular Literature

6. Grassroots YA: Don’t Forget to Be Awesome

Conclusion. YA and the “Emerging Self”: Looking Ahead at the Genre
and Our Classrooms

When I started writing this book a year and a half ago, my goal was to help educators and librarians make sense of the shifting nature of young adult literature. I attempted to take a theoretical approach to this task while also making theory as accessible for readers as possible. My intention was for readers to be able to utilize feminism or critical race theory or post-colonialism as a means of inciting dialogue in classrooms with youth.

I will be sharing excerpts from the book in the future and would love to engage in constructive dialogue with any readers, YA classes, or preservice teacher educators. The book is part of Sense’s Critical Literacy Teaching Series edited by by Paul Thomas and builds on critical theory to illuminate for teachers, librarians, and preservice teacher educators the ways young adult literature is a genre in flux.

Note: The book details and critiques the capitalist history that created the YA genre. Fittingly, I would highly encourage you to buy as many copies of this book as you possibly can (or at least kindly ask your library to order a copy).

The Listserve, Bell’s Palsy, and Winning The Lottery

I recently “won the Listserve lottery.” The Listserve is a one-email-a-day, free subscription. Members are randomly selected to send a message of their choosing to the nearly 25k subscribers. When I won last week, I chose to write about having Bell’s Palsy. My email is below and – if you enjoy a single, random post each day – I encourage you to subscribe to the Listserve.

[The Listserve] Reflections on teaching with a broken face

In 2005 I stepped into my first classroom as an official high school English teacher. Having survived the usual trials and tribulations of student teaching, non-invasive background checks, and a lengthy Los Angeles commute (is there any other kind?), I was thrilled to get to teach students in my classroom a la the tradition set for me by Hollywood. I was going to be the next Jaime Escalante or that lady from Freedom Writers. Of course that’s not really how things went down.

My first day was, to say the least, challenging. I was 22 and had 21 year old students. My first period class had 43 students and I had a few tarnished tables and chairs to seat maybe a dozen kids. There was a hole in my floor that went to who-knows-where. And–oh yeah–I couldn’t move half of my face.

A day before I started teaching I found out I had Bell’s Palsy. Basically, the right side of my face was paralyzed. I couldn’t blink (I was a really good winker), raise my eyebrows, or move that side of my mouth. My speech was bordering on lispy/drunken belligerent as a result. When I smiled it looked Frankenstein-like grotesque (look in the mirror and try to smile with only half of your face).

Fortunately, Bell’s Palsy wore off after about a month and a half. But that first day was one where superficial moves like smiles and normal eye contact were thrown out the window. And yeah, the school I taught at had some dilapidated challenges too: the conditions my students were expected to learning (did I mention the mousetraps behind the bookshelves?) were not only less than ideal but downright unjust.

I made a lot of mistakes and learned a lot that first year. I learned that the tremendous love, resilience, and hunger for an equal education can make any space ignite with the possibilities of learning. Engaging with my students and being honest about my weird looking face meant my classroom began with a culture of openness and honesty.

The world of education in the United States has a lot of work to do. Nearly a decade after that first day of teaching I’m now helping prepare future teachers for classroom life. It’s a strange shift, sometimes. I build from my experiences looking out an unblinking right eye at a decimated classroom filled with eager students and strive for helping revolutionize the world of education.
Thanks for your time,

Antero
Fort Collins, CO

[BTW: After writing this, I got several commiserating tweets from other former BPers. I also was told that Antero is a common name in Finland. Who woulda thought?]

Talking Roleplaying Games with Chad Sansing (Part One)

Chad’s awesome map – credit: davesmapper.com

Over the summer I was thrilled to join an Educator Innovator webinar discussing some of my classroom work with Suzie Boss. In doing so, it was awesome to get to virtually hangout with NWP superstar Chad Sansing (I would highly recommend subscribing to Chad’s blog).We’ve since been discussing gameplay and exploring elements of game design in ways that will merit future posts. At one point Chad mentioned that he ran a D&D campaign for his middle school students. As I am currently looking at the learning principles and literacies enacted in tabletop roleplaying games, I asked Chad to describe his gaming experience with his students. This is the first of several posts that find Chad discussing his innovation as a gamer and educator.

What games did you play? What edition?

Last year, during the 4th 9 Weeks, several kids at school asked for a D&D club during advisory time. Serving as nerd-in-residence, I agreed to host the club and run the campaign. One student began a self-directed learning project to become the DM – or dungeon master – a kind of show runner for the game’s campaign (or season, if you will). However, she ultimately decided to remain a PC, or player character, and spent language arts class reading the Mortal Engines series, so I couldn’t complain. I became the house DM, in much the same way that other teachers serve as permanent pitchers or quarter backs during games at recess.

We played a mutt version of the game. I signed up for the official online D&D resource and used it to help kids create characters. I also used Dave’s Mapper to create some of the larger maps used in our campaign. Other maps, I drew by hand on graph paper, the same way I began in 2nd grade while playing Gamma Riders at LatchKey in the morning. In fact, during our campaign, I found some of my maps from late elementary school or middle school in a box in my parents’ basement. Ah, life.

Since we were using the up-to-date online resource, our characters were created through menus and algorithms referencing the game’s 4th edition rules set. The last time I played, I used 2nd edition rules. At no time have I ever cared about movement or encumbrance. Essentially, we used a twenty-sided die (d20) rolled against our opponents’ defenses or the number we needed to roll to achieve a specific task. The time that praying-mantis ore-smuggler hijacked negotiations with the Dwarven navy and somehow rolled two natural 20s in a row to avert a disastrous strike on an Elven grain ship remains the stuff of legend. Natural 20s happen when a player rolls a 20 on a d20 without any modifiers buffing or debuffing her chances. Essentially, if you roll a d20, you can do anything. Conversely, if you roll a natural 1, no bonus can save you. The DM can do anything she wants to your character or party of adventurers.

Generally, we put story first, community second, d20 rolls third, logic fourth, common sense (a distant) fifth, and all the other rules last. (Having just played Pathfinder for the first time, it occurs to me we essentially played Pathfinder.)

I made it clear that any players wishing to split off of the main party could do so, but that I would finish the main story first before returning to their characters a few months of real time later. That kept everyone together nicely. Also, I discouraged evil characters and evil role-playing. An explicit and repeatedly stated purpose of the group was to be a community and to enjoy our time together as co-creators of an awesome story.

How did the students learn the rules? What things didn’t they get? Did anyone buy their own copies? Dice?

Many kids in the club had played some form of D&D before, usually with a parent or family friend as DM. Everyone seemed to quickly get the idea of using a d20 to roll against target numbers. It was difficult for some students to read all of thew abilities and items listed on their character sheets, so some students spent a lot of time repeating actions that they knew had been successful in the past. Other students and I tried to help by scanning their character sheets and suggesting things to try. The kids wanted their peers to do cool things and generally included everyone who wanted to play each day, though some players kind of wandered in and out of the game until they were sure of actions they could perform. Then they stuck with the game and began to bring in their own bits of humor and story-telling as their anxiety about the rules and playing “correctly” diminished. We had tons of running jokes by the time our campaign finished, and each player had a part in at least one of them.

Before the adventure began, most students wrote back stories – without much help from me – that brought them together on the map I showed them of the campaign world. I asked them to come up with explanations for how they could all wind up in one, particular nation at the same time. All kinds of writing and creativity ensued as we got characters built over the first three or four days of club.

Can you describe the campaign – what was it about, how long did you plan for it to go on, how many players?

I planned the game for 10-15 players and thought it would last for about a nine weeks, or for the entirety of a marking period. We played three or four morning per week (during advisory) for about eight weeks, forty-five minutes at a time. If you count the time we spent developing our characters, rolling new ones as needed, and dividing loot, we probably spent just over 20 hours playing the game, which gives us a total playing time roughly equal to that of the main quest in a typical AAA adventure video game.

How did the campaign change? How did players react?

As the kids came up with ideas I didn’t anticipate – as they decided to travel to places or to take on enemies I thought they would ignore – I had to revise some of my planning and adventure flow-charts so that the kids could attempt to meet their own goals and find entry points back into the rest of the main quest I had designed.

I changed the big bad about halfway through the campaign: I added a co-villain and revised the motivations of the first one. I also improvised the ending to help the players defeat their major antagonists before the end of the school year. I began the game thinking of political and economic struggle, but I ended the campaign thinking of belief and sacrifice thanks to the kids’ decisions.

What did you learn?

Kids want to cooperate and learn with, through, and from people and stories that involve them in personal inquiry, trusting relationships, and opportunities for exploring identity at school. A well designed lesson, unit, curriculum, class, or year is one in which kids feel like adventurers, in which they feel like heroes, and in which they can apprehend the heroism of their peers, some of whom fight awful battles just to be present and to risk being seen and heard.

What did they learn?

I wish I had asked in a semi-formal way. I can only speculate. Natural 1s are bad, but failure is sometimes funny and always safe in our classroom. Natural 20s are good, but sometimes being great at something right off the bat changes what comes next or what’s expected of us. Everyone has something to say, but some of us take more time to find our voices than others. Everyone wants to belong, and we can include them when we decide to be patient, inviting, and kind. Everyone has a sense of humor. Stories are best created together. Community sometimes requires sacrifice, even when sacrifice is just a willingness to be silly in front of others.

I’ll ask around some more.

Did you always DM?

I always ran the game, though the kids really owned and shaped it. I tried to set up interesting constraints and to perform the NPCs well, which required me to run a functioning map of the world, its people, and their interests in the back of my mind. I tried to stress co-creation of the story throughout the campaign. Playing D&D with my kids was like teaching them in a participatory learning environment – without them it would have fallen flat; with too much control on my part, the game would have sucked.

What kinds of players did people play? Any assumed gender stereotypes?

The kids largely played themselves, though a few of my older students attempted more serious role-play, taking into account how their characters would have approached battle, diplomacy, and the other characters. I didn’t hear a lot of gender stereotyping, but the player with the pixie character nearly never hit a target with her miniature cross-bow, which led to frequent, but good-natured, jokes at the expense of her dice rolls. And no one wanted the bug-man to speak, but he often had the highest diplomacy rolls leading to situations where he would say ludicrous things (to the elves: “the dwarves? They LOVE you guys!”) that the NPCs had to believe.

Most players began as friends, but by the end, I think everyone who chose to play felt welcome in the group and spoke and played.

Sadly, we had a few near-total-party-kills and some ill-advised walking across a narrow bridge over an endless pit, so there were many new characters along the way, as well was a lot of fodder for running jokes. As the game went on, kids also opened up and brought humor to their characters. The dwarven beast master who woke up after 700 years of sleep, for example, demanded that the group help him recover his familiar, Cookie the Cat (or bunny?), from the lowest level of the under-city before he would help the group fight the big bad. He figured if Cookie had died, he could have a spirt familiar.

As it turns out, he found Cookie, made her into a spirit familiar, and then sacrificed her soul to open and close a mystical barrier trapping a rainbow dragon the group needed to free. So, yeah. He ultimately went mad and lived out the rest of his life as a bear in the woods.

Middle schoolers are great story-tellers when given the chance over time to find themselves and the multitudes in them.

How did you find time for this and planning and everything else (I’m thinking about just how much time preparing for running a gaming session can take)?

I spent some time on developing a small world map and back story for its nations. Maybe two or three hours. Hand-drawn maps took about 30-45 minutes each. Encounters often took two or three sessions to resolve, so I tried to sketch out loose flow-charts and NPC details for about five encounters at a time. I’d order each set of upcoming encounters in a flow chart and allow for branching paths between the initiating and terminating events in the sequence. I probably spent 20-30 minutes planning per day during the campaign. It felt like planning participatory learning experiences, which I love, and involved a lot of performance and improv, which might be the parts of my teaching that I enjoy (but downplay) the most. Planning for the game also seemed very manageable because of the schedule I had last year, which left me time for writing and supporting other classrooms after I finished my teaching for the day before lunch. I have a much more traditional and full schedule this year, but I would still leap at the chance to plan nearly any kind of participatory learning club, regardless.

Thanks, Chad! In the next post, Chad will address some of the specifics of his campaign, its storyline, and the ways students interacted. Stay tuned!

New DML Post: Critiquing iPads in LAUSD

I have a new co-authored blogpost over at DMLCentral called “iFiasco in LA’s Schools: Why Technology Alone Is Never the Answer.” Written with Thomas Philip, this post takes issue with the recent “hacking” of LAUSD devices by students and builds off of recent research Thomas and I have done together.

SLJ Leadership Summit Keynote video and follow-up

The video from my keynote at the School Library Journal Leadership Summit in Austin, TX can be viewed below. In addition, I wrote a blog post that adds links and background context to some of the main ideas in my talk. That post can be found here. Again, I want to thank the organizers of the SLJ Leadership Summit for the opportunity to share ideas I have been refining over the past few years.

 

Antero Garcia keynote | SLJ summit 2013 from School Library Journal on Vimeo.

School Library Journal Leadership Summit Keynote

 

This Sunday I will be the closing keynote speaker at the School Library Journal Leadership Summit in Austin, TX. My talk is called “Participation and Collaboration as Critical Transformation.” Here is the program description for me talk:

A former high school teacher in South Central Los Angeles and an English education professor, Antero Garcia will discuss and share examples of how collaboration can build toward transformative identities for youth and communities. Exploring the possibilities of games, young adult literature, and technology, we will look toward ways to foster partnership for sustainable participation at school, community, and global levels.

Though some of this will be familiar to readers, I’m also excited about some recent research I am highlighting in this talk. I will be sharing notes and links to work next week.

I am excited about getting to engage with leaders in the school library field and humbled to be able to share my work with them.

Same Table, Different Game: Role-Playing and Differentiation

[This is likely one in a slew of forthcoming posts related to role playing games, learning, literacies, and performance. These are exploratory in nature and a space for me to write through some of the topics I’ve been thinking about in this area. Feedback and pushback are welcomed.]

I’m reading a recently released book about the history of Dungeons and Dragons called Of Dice and Men by David Ewalt. I appreciate the accessibility of the text as a way to describe what could happen within a role-playing game. I think Ewalt’s book offers a good introduction but will also likely be read primarily by people already intimately familiar with the polyhedral dice and tomes of rules charts he carefully contextualizes; as accessible as the book is, it’s not going to turn the world of gaming on its head. Which is tricky… because most people probably see D&D more like this.

A month or so ago, when I came home from an evening playing Pathfinder, Ally asked me, “So, what do you do when you play?” I’ve been struggling with an answer to this: I think there is an assumption that all role-playing looks like the live action sort a la Role Models. And actually, I think the endearing, epic ending of Freaks and Geeks is a good primer of what typical role-playing looks like. (Leave it to James Franco to help clearly explain nerd culture to the masses.)

As I’m reading Ewalt’s book, I’m reminded that even with five or six or seven people all sitting around and playing the same campaign, they may all be playing a different game. For instance, Ewalt notes that “at the most fundamental level, a PC is defined by a bunch of numbers written down on piece of paper–the DNA of an imaginary person” [emphasis mine]. And that’s not really how I see it. In my current Pathfinder game, I’m less interested in the stats that I search for on my page than I am with who my character is in regards to his traits, disposition, outlook on the world. For instance, I might be playing a paranoid thief that gets a little flighty when confrontation arises (which is often). Instead of chasing down villains, it could be entirely in-character for my character to run away: the numbers that frame an abstract set of skills are less important to me than the characterization of how this character behaves.

That doesn’t mean Ewalt’s wrong, it means people around a gaming table are playing different and parallel games. For instance, at the same Pathfinder game, there are players who have made uber-fighters and badass spellcasters. Don’t mess with them: they’re really good at using the game mechanics to ensure that battles end in their favor. This is the game they are playing. Like Ewalt they are defining their characters by “a bunch of numbers.”

I want to emphasize that neither approach is “the right way” to play. Some gamers I’ve played with have spoken disdainfully of the “roll”-players in comparison to the “role”-players: they see gaming as the co-construction of a fulfilling narrative. Others see gaming as building the best and most epic character ever. The name, the behavior, and the backstory aren’t so important. Many people find a balance.

Having to figure out what players want and their own narrative goals, the Game Master (GM) must figure out how to help meet the various needs and interests of those around a table. It’s a tricky proposition to differentiate the needs of players and the parallels between a GM and a teacher are significant (and will be discussed in an upcoming post).

When we ran the Black Cloud game in my classroom several years ago, I noticed that students enjoyed the game for different reasons: several students focused on the story of a cloud gaining consciousness and communicating with it. Some students wanted to “win” by finding the most pufftron sensors in their community. Some students were most interested in the environmental concerns and addressing real world health issues based on data. Regardless of what attracted students to the curricular unit/alternate reality game the same things took place. How students took up the data and story and competitive elements (and standards-aligned English-y “stuff”) reflected the parallel and differentiated spaces for literacy exploration.

As I continue delving into RPG-related research, I’m struck by how complex systems of rules deliver content that is interpreted and enacted upon based on the interests of individuals. When we play Monopoly we (usually) play it in the same way every time. When we play Pathfinder or Fate Core or Savage Worlds, each of us have different interests and goals and they all intersect over the course of several hours of dialogue, dice rolling, and identity formation.

Adolescents’ Literature, Fall 2013

This year’s Adolescents’ Literature course is structured differently than in the past. In order to make the class feel a bit smaller and to help highlight a larger breadth of texts, I’ve divided the class into three cohorts of students that will read thematically linked books each week. For instance, next week is “John Green Week” and we’ll read Looking For Alaska, Paper Towns, and The Fault in Our Stars (so that a third of the class gets in a good cry before the semester is too far along). As there is a mix of English education students, creative writing students, and this-class-sounded-fun-so-I-signed-up-and-now-I’m-in-a-class-with-thousands-of-pages-of-required-reading-oh-well students, this approach will help meet the more specific needs of the class. I may regret this as the instructor as I effectively tripled the reading I’ll be doing for the class (any teachers that run book circles probably knows what I’m going through).

As always, I’m encouraging anyone to follow along and join us. If you’re interested in participating in our online conversations, please join this Figment group (things are quiet for now, but we’ll be using the site starting next week). The full reading list is here. And for those that are feeling a little lazy, you can see the entire list of authors below.

  • Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, Sherman Alexie
  • Wintergirls, Laurie Halse Anderson
  • Feed, MT Anderson
  • Go Ask Alice, Anonymous(-ish)
  • Thirteen Reasons Why, Jay Asher
  • Year of the Beasts, Cecil Castellucci and Nate Powell
  • The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky
  • City of Bones, Cassandra Clare
  • The Chocolate War, Robert Cormier
  • Little Brother, Cory Doctorow
  • For The Win, Cory Doctorow
  • Pirate Cinema, Cory Doctorow
  • Romiette and Julio, Sharon Draper
  • Fat Kid Rules the World, K.L. Going
  • Looking For Alaska, John Green
  • Paper Towns, John Green
  • The Fault In Our Stars, John Green
  • The Outsiders, S.E. Hinton
  • Crank, Ellen Hopkins
  • The Name of the Star, Maureen Johnson
  • Two Boys Kissing, David Levithan
  • I Am Number Four, Pittacus Lore
  • Sloppy Firsts, Megan McCafferty
  • Monster, Walter Dean Myer
  • TTYL, Lauren Myracle
  • Wonder, R.J. Palacio
  • Luna, Julie Anne Peters
  • Eleanor and Park, Rainbow Rowell
  • Rainbow Boys, Alex Sanchez
  • Buried Onions, Gary Soto
  • Between Shades of Gray, Ruta Sepetys
  • Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Laini Taylor
  • Runaways, Brian K. Vaughan
  • Saga, Brian K. Vaughan
  • Y: The Last Man, Brian K. Vaughan
  • Code Name Verity, Elizabeth Wein
  • Gossip Girl, Cecily von Ziegesar
  • The Pigman, Paul Zindel
  • The Book Thief, Markus, Zusak

Discussing Live Action Role Playing, Schools, and Why You Should Join Seekers Unlimited

I was thrilled to get to talk with Roz and Aaron of Seekers Unlimited this afternoon about their current Kickstarter.

Our conversation (embedded below) discusses the power of LARPing in educational contexts, the need for roleplaying in schools, and the differences between “sandboxes” and “rails.” LARPing really isn’t just for nerds swinging foam swords on the weekend!
 

 

And do please consider Seekers Unlimited’s Kickstarter (currently with just days left for funding)!

 

 

Critical Media Literacy, Fair Use, and Copyright

Last month an article I co-authored was published in Learning Landscapes. “Transforming Teaching and Learning Through Critical Media Literacy Pedagogy” can be freely read and downloaded here.

And now I want to talk a bit about copyright and fair use and critical media literacy.

In writing this article with my colleagues, Robyn and Jeff, one of our central arguments is that Critical Media Literacy today is fundamentally pushing toward a more productive space. Tools now standard on computers, easily installed on mobile devices, or quickly googled on the ‘nets make making really easy. As a result, critical media literacy in classrooms today has to shift even more toward critical production instead of just criticism of mass media products.

This is something Jeff and I (along with a few of colleagues – Peter Carlson, Mark Gomez, Clifford Lee) tried to do in a set of graduate classes for preservice teachers in Los Angeles. The students in these classes were constantly creating media products. Some of these projects are described throughout our article.

In our original manuscript several images were included with the descriptions of how these student-created products extended a pedagogy of critical media literacy in the second decade of the 21st century. Most of these images are featured in this blog post. While making revisions to our manuscript we were notified that our images may be a conflict with regards to copyright and we were asked to take them out.

Before I go on, I should be clear that I am not an expert when it comes to copyright law today. It is a passing interest: scholarship by Lawrence Lessig and Aufderheide and Jaszi (in particular their 2011 book Reclaiming Fair Use) inform much of my practice and the workshops I’ve run (such as a one for the UCLA Writing Project called “Copy Left, Right, and Center”).

In discussions with teachers I emphasize four main components of fair use:

  • Purpose
  • The nature of what is being used
  • The amount
  • The effect

Note that those four components of fair use need to be taken collectively. This isn’t something  teachers always consider and, I suspect, many of us infringe on this in ways that highlight how archaic these laws are (and if you’re looking for someone to blame, I would read the slightly dated The Pirate and the Mouse or watch the doc RIP: A Remix Manifesto – though this one slightly conflates different copyright laws).

Let’s unpack an example: say you are asking students to create a video slideshow about a book as an assignment and say that a student chooses to have an appropriately thematic song playing in the background. Maybe this song is a chart-topping pop song. This seems like a typical assignment students would engage in and a creative (and easy) way for kids to customize their interpretation of the work. However, this would not be considered fair use: the song is not used in a short enough amount (though there is no specific time length in legal documents despite what you may have been told otherwise) and the song’s purpose and effect are not significantly different from what they were in a non-school context. I should also point out that being a teacher or using media in a classroom does not grant us special exception from copyright law. We just usually infringe unknowingly.

While all of these components of fair use are not simple to quantify, they act – as Aufderheide and Jaszi note – as the spectrums across which legal actions are determined. Because the images we included with our manuscript (and featured here) are not of commercial quality (they could not be used professionally in the dpi we have submitted) and because they were to be used in ways that clearly and intentionally change the original meaning, they seem like an appropriate case of fair use.

In the fair use research I’ve done, the importance of using others’ work in transformative ways is underscored. I think this is a key point of the critical media literacy article and of the images we were using.

I should also add that I don’t think copyright laws really help media producers innovate today (which, as Lessig argues, was the whole point of copyright to begin with). I don’t describe how I–along with lots of other teachers–probably unknowingly infringed on these laws as a teacher because I think they are good laws. I’m stating my understanding to help somewhat clarify the linearity of my thinking with regards to this article.

Ultimately, my appeal that these images constituted fair use was not enough for the editors to feel comfortable including them. I should note that I do not fault the editors and appreciated their consideration and dialogue throughout the process. The images highlight the challenges of how participatory culture confronts the dilemma of traditionally consumer-driven media markets. Fair use, copyright, and advances like creative commons are areas of this research we did not address in our article and that we need to continue scholarship around in the future.