Technology has progressed at an unquantifiable rate since the 90’s. Optimistic in its infancy, it is now a complicated, multifaceted creature that grows larger, scarier, and more useful by the day. The role of women and femininity in this sphere has likewise growth-spurted, ebbing and flowing as the technological beast has.

Donna Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist-Feminism in the Late Twentieth Century,” written at the precipice of the technological revolution, likens us to cyborgs: part organic, part technology; part reality, part constructed fiction. This framework feels truer now more than ever.

Haraway frames cyborgs as existing in a post-gender world, the ultimate ideal and utopia for society. However, the issue she acknowledges and then counters is that, “The main trouble with cyborgs, of course, is that they are the illegitimate offspring of militarism and patriarchal capitalism, not to mention state socialism. But illegitimate offspring are often exceedingly unfaithful to their origins. Their fathers, after all, are inessential” (151).

Does this apply to modern cyborgs? Why do so many creators frame their technological creations as gendered? How often are these creations of media unfaithful to their origins? How do we acknowledge that some creations, much like these societal cyborgs that Haraway discusses, are in an inherently more privileged position to rebel? Can we separate the social constructions from the cyborg, when the cyborg inherently requires some form of inorganic creation by a member of these societies?

Alexandra Hidalgo’s “Cámara Retórica: A Feminist Filmmaking Methodology for Rhetoric and Composition” is female-created, female-oriented, female-purposed. Its intent is clear, and that intent is clearly framed by diverse female agency. The women she includes within her story are also feminist filmmakers.

But, we must also consider the popular mass media that exists, the movies and games and technologies that bombard us daily. How are women, cyborgs themselves, positioned? How often are the constructed fictions from the real world perpetuated through attempts at representing women in technology?

Virtual assistants have female voices: Apple’s Siri, Amazon’s Alexa, Google’s Google Home, and Microsoft’s Cortana. Many are named after women or female characters. All are devoted A.I. “servants” and symbols of a tech industry lacking in diversity. These are not cyborgs, but are aiding in the perpetuation of gendered, fictional constructs. They are symptoms of a larger disease that is permeating our everyday technological lives.

Why does Joaquin Phoenix fall in love with Scarlettt Johansson’s disembodied voice in Her? He is lonely man, she is a mere A.I. operating system with a sultry, feminine voice and careful sense of humor. She is a tool he learns from on his pathway to being a more secure man, as he realizes his love for a “human” woman as well. Why is she gendered? How is she still somehow sexualized without an organic body?

Ex Machina is another obvious connection–a literal female cyborg, a layered plot where the technology takes on more standardized, “desirable” characteristics in order to take advantage of the human men and escape into the world. A male filmmaker, but a definite attempt at subverting the patriarchal influence on the creation and manipulation of cyborg technology. An attempt at a nuanced Frankenstein of the future, but still somehow feels wrong–is the white, cis-gendered representation of the cyborg harmful in its perpetuation? Is there actual meta commentary happening in regards to the role of men and women in the technological landscape?

There are countless representations of cis, white female cyborgs in video games and television shows as well. Haraway was not discussing cyborgs in the half-robot, half-human way. She explains that women themselves exist as cyborgs, partly organic and partly framed through fictitious constructs. But the fictional constructs will not progress, change, or die unless done on a widespread level.

More women of color, trans women, and non-binary women need to be given opportunities to produce work on a widespread level. They deserve the structural changes and opportunities needed to better support them as they enter the technology field, the filmmaking field, the television field, and more. Hidalgo’s video chapter book serves as a helpful guideline for feminist filmmaking, and the first part absolutely starts with having more feminist hands in the pot.

First, I am far from a video game expert. I play them frequently, often just for spurts of time, and only occasionally finish games that are finish-able (looking at you, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim). I prefer not to play first-person shooters and battle royale games, as I am pretty horrible at them. I love retro games and will always waste quarters on Galaga or Pac-man. While I am not an “expert” in most games, I’m pretty stinking confident in my Mario Kart abilities. Most recently, I have been devoted to Animal Crossing: New Horizons because who wouldn’t be? (I’ve also been playing a lot of online “Settlers of Catan” on my iPad or computer with various groups of friends, but not sure how much that counts.)

Second! Like many of you, I know many people who have complicated feelings about the way they were taught in school. Many of these people also play video games. Let’s come back to this point later.

Third and last, I am in the MAT program for English and absolutely agree with many of the points that James Paul Gee makes in “Good Video Games and Good Learning.” As a future English teacher, it is my responsibility to consider any form of narrative that students will be immersing themselves in. No matter the grade level I am teaching, there will be students playing video games in my classroom.

I work for a tutoring company as both a tutor and an admin–as such, I have encountered dozens of students who love video games and many who want to eventually design them. Many of these students, similar to my point above in regards to peers of my age, have complicated relationships with some of the ways in which they are taught.

Therefore, it would be negligent of me to not consider the connections between good video games and good education if they can help these same students learn comfortably.

Will I be asking students to play Goat Simulator for homework? No–although I wouldn’t not recommend they have fun with it in their free time.

Good games are games that incorporate many layers and levels of skills and knowledge. They demand things from the user; they force problem solving; they allow players to enjoy learning.

Gee likens most school subjects to “games,” and he is not wrong. In games and in school subjects, learning purely knowledge is not effective in isolation. You have to learn skills and how to do. Video games, like any text or task, are a medium with which to teach.

When planning lessons for an English classroom, there is a huge misconception that a unit or lesson is formed around the text a teacher wants his or her students to interact with. It is instead the learning goal that the unit or lesson is formed around–what will students learn how to do as a result of working with this text? How will they work with this text to reach that goal? What is the purpose of using this text in this way?

Students could very easily incorporate many of the learning principles that Gee lists simply by using video games as a medium too produce something in the classroom. Interaction, production, customization, agency, and system thinking are just a few of his principles that apply.

For example, many students are often asked to create new representations of scenes from Shakespeare plays. It is a great way to work with the performance-based medium and allow students to create a kind of directorial intent, something they are ideally analyzing in other representations beforehand.

Often, these projects are filmed (in my time, on digital cameras, but now more often on phones) and edited in iMovie or similar softwares. Other times, they can act it out in class in real time. Sometimes students are able to create or draw things akin to graphic novels or storyboards. The goal of these kinds of projects are for students to demonstrate they understand the language of the scene, but also that they understand how to effectively manipulate rhetorical devices (tone, symbolism, setting, etc.) through various mediums (not just writing, but also visuals, props, sound/music, etc.).

There are a number of video games* where students could utilize existing characters (or customize them), put them in settings (and customize those settings), utilize certain props, set everything up in a manner that represents the action/meaning they are trying to portray, and then either screenshot several crafted scenarios (to create a storyboard) or record the scene. Not only are the graphics in most games superior to many other tools students could find for free online, but they can also use something they are familiar with to engage with the material more effectively. Like students using video technology or other graphics, the students would have to explain their choices and why they included them, still demonstrating the same skills and understandings as their classmates.

(*Animal Crossing: New Horizons, MineCraft, SIMS, Skyrim, and many more.)

This is a basic example of an assignment that incorporates good video games, but it is something I would absolutely accept as a teacher. Multimodality should not be limited to PowerPoints and iMovie, and I know many adults who would have loved to be able to utilize their favorite video games as project mediums for school.

Even more simple? I need to keep playing games. I push myself to keep reading in order to keep up with what my future students might enjoy. I already enjoy video games, so I need to keep doing that as well–students will not stop playing video games any time soon.

I do not need to be an expert on video games, but empathy and understanding of something they are passionate about goes a long way toward effective teaching and a healthy classroom culture. I do not want to lose the appreciation I have for this medium, and I also know that it will only continue to grow as a form of complex narrative as time goes on.

I can’t think of a more appropriate time to discuss technological craftsmanship and storytelling than right now. My computer is about a day away from grafting itself as an extra appendage onto my body, my ears have molded themselves around my AirPods, and my fingers are now permanently curled to trace the path of my keyboard. I’ve played more Animal Crossing than I’d like to admit. And, hey, the streaming-powers-that-be finally put Community on Netflix, so I can now rewatch yet another show.

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In maneuvering through the related articles and resources in this module, I returned to another piece of media that I originally discovered years ago, and began to consider it through the lens that Punday provides on the position of the reader in digital narratives. The piece is titled “To This Day Project,” written and read by Canadian spoken-word poet Shane Koyczan (content warnings for self-harm, mention of suicide, and mental illness):

This project began as a spoken-word poem, and grew into something much larger. Used in part to help define and promote an anti-bullying campaign, the video features dozens of animators and an original score to move with the poetry. The poet, Shane Koyczan, performs the audio as he normally would, but adds more dimension and intensity to match the rise and swell of the words and music.

Typically, spoken word poetry is performance–the poet at the microphone. The poem is listened to with its intended tones, emphasis, and inflections, straight from the creator’s mouth. This tends to position readers as the “narrative audience” that Punday explains, as the readers focus on content  more than form. Occasionally, the poem has been transferred onto paper or into another form of text. The poem is read like other forms of poetry, with readers adding their own tones, emphasis, and inflection, which means the reader fall into both of Punday’s categories: “narrative audience,” focusing on content, and “authorial audience,” focusing on artificial form and rhetorical intent.

That makes me wonder–how are readers positioned in a spoken word poem with these added, digital elements? The narrator still exists in this form, as Punday points out (28). But the added elements change the context of the narration itself. There is little choice to be made by any readers–there are no hyperlinks, no interactive elements. This is not a video game or a linked text.

However, the rules and options for the implied reader do still differ from those of a (theoretical) printed version of the “To This Day Project.” For one, there is an inherent inquiry created through the title and collaborative aspects of this piece. The word “project” is important in implying there is more to this piece than just the piece itself–that it is merely an artifact within a larger purpose. Many readers/viewers go on to finding the website for the project, which contains a variety of other content (mostly blog posts from various authors). Interestingly, the website is not linked in this video’s description, but there are links to other resources for victims of bullying.

The piece also emphasizes its collaborative nature: while the poet is front-and-center, there is an obvious, larger group of authors involved in the electronic narrative. Many artists, animators, and musicians crafted the overall piece, as evidenced in the credits and video description. The most obvious point of collaboration is the artifact itself, as the animation blends seamlessly from one style and voice to another, moving with music that starts and stops and climaxes with deliberation.

The music is without words and the imagery in the animation tends to lean towards the abstract when it comes to representing the poetry itself. The piece is less about the poet than it would be when performed traditionally. Arguably, it becomes less about the poem itself as well and more about the idea. In this case, I would argue that readers fall into an almost “narrative” position, but perhaps go even more deeply into an immersive empathetic or emotive position.

To demonstrate the emotions invoked by this piece, I would encourage anyone to look at the comments below the video (content warnings as well for self-harm, mental illness, and bullying). Though it was released in early 2013, many readers are still discovering it for the first time or simply returning to it years later. Many posting comments are survivors of bullying and/or mental health issues. It seems like this digital narrative became an important token for many people going through similar experiences to those of the author, and that the platform itself (Youtube) has become a sort of communal place to contribute personal histories in relation to the digital narrative. There seem to be few actual replies between the commentators, implying the digital rhetoric is simply allowing readers a platform to add their own experiences, to speak them out to other readers.

For most of these readers, and for myself, I think that piece is most effective in how it has been presented. I do not know that mere text could organically illicit the same reader response that this multimodal representation has, or that it could better reach the intended purpose:

“My experiences with violence in schools still echo throughout my life but standing to face the problem has helped me in immeasurable ways.

Schools and families are in desperate need of proper tools to confront this problem. This piece is a starting point.” – Shane