ilbegone
08-21-2010, 07:31 AM
An essay by John Weeks, Features editor at the San Bernardino County Sun
Will zombies decide the future?
In this first installment of a three-part series, we encounter a group of young people whose lack of literacy skills has transformed them into complete zombies!
I spoke earlier this summer at a "Career Day" event at a local elementary school. I talked with the kids about the awesome responsibility that lies upon their shoulders.
They will be the deciding generation, the generation that chooses the future of communication, the future of sharing knowledge and information, the future of reading and writing, the future of literacy in our world.
And how well-equipped will they be to make those choices, those decisions?
They are the first generation to grow up with no tangible memory or contact or involvement with the world before the Internet, the world before Wikipedia, the world before Facebook, the world before blogging and text messaging and twittering and tweets.
You and I, we know there was a time when public knowledge and information was handled with care, when it was reviewed, fact-checked, authenticated, and for the most part reliable and trustworthy. We also know there was a time when people took the time to enjoy the process of gaining and sharing information and knowledge. They curled up with big books, they spent an hour reading the day's newspaper, they spent whole afternoons at the library, they wrote long letters.
The kids in that classroom where I spoke earlier this summer, and all the many other kids who are just like them, don't know anything about that world. They don't know that the world now, their world, is a weirdly and woefully different place.
They don't know that they are being bombarded in a whole new way by junk information of a whole new kind. They don't know that they are being diverted and distracted by myriad new forms of entertainment and recreation and social interaction that provide a buzz, a short fix, a quick shot of stimulation without leaving any lasting impression, or provoking any worthwhile thought.
They don't know that their attention spans are being stunted, that their memory retention is being compromised, that their diminishing chances of growing up to be intelligent, well-informed, articulate individuals are being challenged in every way, every day.
As I spoke with those kids, at that elementary school, their teacher interjected at one point, to agree with me, and he said that the kids of today are unlike any he has seen before. They are zombies, he said.
I was tempted to shoot him a loud whisper behind my hand. "Dude, they're right here. They can hear you!" I was tempted to say.
But I didn't. I let him go on. And I soon realized he knew his students a lot better than I did.
He talked at length about how tuned out, and turned off, the kids of today really are. He talked about how detached and removed they are. He talked about how unresponsive and uncommunicative they are. He talked about how stubbornly resistant they are to learning basic reading and writing skills. And he used the word "zombies" several more times.
Finally, I interrupted him. I turned to the class and said, "How many of you are zombies? Let's see a show of hands."
I'm sorry to say that more than half of the kids in that classroom raised their hands.
And they were beaming, and laughing happily as they raised their hands.
They not only were zombies.
They were proud that they were zombies.
Next: I recount the thrilling story of how my travel to distant planets, as a youngster, saved me from becoming a zombie myself!
This essay by John Weeks does not indicate agreement or affiliation with any organization.
Will zombies decide the future?
In this first installment of a three-part series, we encounter a group of young people whose lack of literacy skills has transformed them into complete zombies!
I spoke earlier this summer at a "Career Day" event at a local elementary school. I talked with the kids about the awesome responsibility that lies upon their shoulders.
They will be the deciding generation, the generation that chooses the future of communication, the future of sharing knowledge and information, the future of reading and writing, the future of literacy in our world.
And how well-equipped will they be to make those choices, those decisions?
They are the first generation to grow up with no tangible memory or contact or involvement with the world before the Internet, the world before Wikipedia, the world before Facebook, the world before blogging and text messaging and twittering and tweets.
You and I, we know there was a time when public knowledge and information was handled with care, when it was reviewed, fact-checked, authenticated, and for the most part reliable and trustworthy. We also know there was a time when people took the time to enjoy the process of gaining and sharing information and knowledge. They curled up with big books, they spent an hour reading the day's newspaper, they spent whole afternoons at the library, they wrote long letters.
The kids in that classroom where I spoke earlier this summer, and all the many other kids who are just like them, don't know anything about that world. They don't know that the world now, their world, is a weirdly and woefully different place.
They don't know that they are being bombarded in a whole new way by junk information of a whole new kind. They don't know that they are being diverted and distracted by myriad new forms of entertainment and recreation and social interaction that provide a buzz, a short fix, a quick shot of stimulation without leaving any lasting impression, or provoking any worthwhile thought.
They don't know that their attention spans are being stunted, that their memory retention is being compromised, that their diminishing chances of growing up to be intelligent, well-informed, articulate individuals are being challenged in every way, every day.
As I spoke with those kids, at that elementary school, their teacher interjected at one point, to agree with me, and he said that the kids of today are unlike any he has seen before. They are zombies, he said.
I was tempted to shoot him a loud whisper behind my hand. "Dude, they're right here. They can hear you!" I was tempted to say.
But I didn't. I let him go on. And I soon realized he knew his students a lot better than I did.
He talked at length about how tuned out, and turned off, the kids of today really are. He talked about how detached and removed they are. He talked about how unresponsive and uncommunicative they are. He talked about how stubbornly resistant they are to learning basic reading and writing skills. And he used the word "zombies" several more times.
Finally, I interrupted him. I turned to the class and said, "How many of you are zombies? Let's see a show of hands."
I'm sorry to say that more than half of the kids in that classroom raised their hands.
And they were beaming, and laughing happily as they raised their hands.
They not only were zombies.
They were proud that they were zombies.
Next: I recount the thrilling story of how my travel to distant planets, as a youngster, saved me from becoming a zombie myself!
This essay by John Weeks does not indicate agreement or affiliation with any organization.