Missing Blog - Eliot and Banks

The topic of the role of tradition in English studies has been discussed most famously by T.S. Eliot in his essay “Tradition and the Individual Talent.” For Eliot, tradition is a timeless and simultaneous concept, one that “cannot be inherited” and takes “great labour” to acquire. Poets should, according to Eliot, write with a historical sense not only of their times and contexts, but also that of “the whole of the literature” of the world, essentially. The past is very present for Eliot, especially when considering how new works are evaluated and older works are reshuffled over time. New writing is evaluated based upon the writing that came before, and older works make room for the new only after its value has been proven in a comparison between old works. In some ways, Eliot’s approaches to tradition echo the writings of our current author.

In his introduction, Banks makes a serious, if unorthodox, pass at defining the DJ in an academic setting. He states, for starters, that DJ’s are cannon makers and time binders (3). Further, through a pseudo stream of consciousness mini essay, he states that DJ’s are “standing between tradition and future, holding power to shape how both are seen/heard/felt/known….always knowing that techniques carry stories, arguments, ways of viewing the world, that the techniques arrange the texts, that every text carries even more stories, arguments, epistemologies” (3). That Banks starts out his book with a pretty substantial discussion of the role of tradition in the future of rhetoric is interesting in that it nicely coincides with much of what Eliot had posited years before.  

Banks’ definition of the exemplary DJ and Eliot’s appreciation for tradition overlap in several ways, perhaps most cogently in is his desire to see African American rhetoric repositioned within tradition and the future (5,6). While its obvious that the technology Banks is referring to is vastly different that during Eliot’s time, Banks is still very much riffing off of Eliot’s views of the past and present as concurrent. Banks states that DJs are “always on some new ish technology cut song line break but always understanding the importance of knowing traditions,” “bearers of history, memory, and rememory,” and who are “expected to know the conversation, know the tradition, shape and reshape them” (3,4). Bank’s book and Eliot’s essay also provide an interesting juxtaposition in that Eliot’s essay has been critiqued as being too Euro-centric and limiting because it lacks a non-white, non-male perspective of tradition. It seems possible that Eliot’s essay could be valued much differently now, and thus possibly reshuffled alongside other works, considering that Banks is advocating for a place in the continuum of tradition.

Question:

Where would Bank’s Digital Griots fit in the continuum that Eliot theorizes?

This is the medium, right? This one?

I’ve always been resistant to suggestions that new media and new modes are the answers to disrupting old paradigms (admittedly, in the 5 or so years that I’ve thought about it…). They’ve certainly played their roles, and I know that American history is rich with stories showing how the right person (or people) with the right audience and a new forum at the right time has succeeded where those prior have failed. But they never seem to accomplish what they're proposed to accomplish, and I tend to think that progress is generally built from the tragedy of lots and lots and lots of public sacrifice, not necessarily new technologies. And because of this, a stubborn mindset, I’m resistant to accept Banks’ notion that a new approach to composition pedagogy--one that can weave together the diverse multitude of African American experience into a new, digital, multimedia platform--can achieve the type of liberation he sees as central and necessary to a new composition pedagogy and African American rhetoric. But I’m not sure.

Now, I need to admit that I value history and tradition. This isn’t because I yearn for stasis or the good ol’ days as so many others who claim to value history and tradition do--and I generally consider most stories that begin with “back in the day” to be romanticized or straight-up bullshit. Instead, it is because I see history and tradition as being a history and a tradition of both persistence and change. Things never fully stay the same, even when they crawl along slowly toward some teleological ideal, and what is often written off as ineffective in bringing about change is often written off prematurely.

This of course, is a central challenge to any call for a new direction. “How can we be sure that we weren’t on the right path? And since we’re having this discussion, the path we’re on clearly hasn’t been *terrible* for us….” But, to borrow the story of Dr. MLK, Jr., whom Banks cites frequently in Digital Griots, sometimes the old methods and the old technologies turn out to be the most effective recourse: mass protest, civil disobedience, public speeches, the FREE exchange of knowledge, endured violence, and so on.

The problem though, is that technologies and media change, and sometimes the inability to change with the technology curtails any successful attempt at change. Another problem, with this long history of technological/media change, is that it’s tempting (but sometimes appropriate) to view it as the catalyst or the causation for change. Dr. MLK, Jr. relied on new communications to coordinate his speeches, SNCC’s sit-ins, the freedom  rides…. And the footage that broadcast the dogs, the fire hoses, the beatings and batons to the formerly apathetic played a major role in achieving the successes of the Civil Rights Movement—granted, a movement that has been romanticized, exploited, and elicited a cultural backlash.

But in promoting the idea that the digital medium is the path to liberation and a new African American experience, Banks seems to overlook the tenuous history of this idea, one that was considered with print media, radio,  film, television, public speaking forums (religious, stand-up, so on), and the first twenty years or so of the Internet. Instead, what has happened has been a recurring tale of forum control and unjust economic conditions. To cite just one example, some thought film could be neutral ground for dialogue about race, a new way to share black experience, a new way to reclaim and preserve tradition. But Hollywood has systematically avoided funding black films, promoting black directors, and casting black actors (focusing on the history of black actresses in Hollywood reveals an even more disheartening story).

So, to reiterate, coming full circle on a tangent that might not contribute anything to our understanding of the text, I’m resistant to Banks’ proposal. I’m not sure if liberation begins in the composition classroom, a place where old hierarchies at least seem to have far too much influence regarding access, content, and instructors. I don’t necessarily disagree—my desire for social change has pulled me through my education—but I wonder if sitting where you’re not supposed to, saying what you you’re not supposed to, risking bodily harm to gather in mass, speak, listen, and share knowledge and experience are still not the best way to accomplish the types of things that Banks wants to accomplish. Sure technology helps facilitate this; but if the Arab Spring or the Civil Rights Movement are any indication, communication and coordination are only the beginning (it takes leg work), and we already have the appropriate technologies for those tasks.

Questions:

1. Can old pedagogies achieve what Banks suggests a new ,digital, African American remix pedagogy can achieve? (For clarity’s sake, let’s simplify this as black liberation or racial equality in the U.S.)

2. What are the strengths/weaknesses of this new pedagogy?

3. What ideals affect your interest in teaching English? And what has compromised or prevented your integration of those ideals into your teaching philosophy and practice?

Post 2

Essentially, the primary argument from Digital Griots seems to be two-fold: "...it is the wide range of cultural practices, multiple literacies, rhetorical mastery, and knowledge of traditions that DJs in black traditions represent that make them griots, link them to other griotic figures, and offer a model for writing that thoroughly weaves together oral performance, print literacy, mastery, and interrogation of technologies, and technologies that can lead to a renewed vision for both composition and African American rhetoric" (13).

Thus, Banks advocates not only the reader's acknowledgement of the role of the DJ-as-griot, but also that this figure serves as a template for scholarly pursuits in the field of comp/rhet. This mantra continues to be championed throughout the text, weaving together an array of tactics to reinforce his argument including scholarly and primary sources, classroom syllabus and lesson plan breakdowns, as well as personal anecdotes from "in-the-trenches" experiences.

 

Chapter 5, was interesting because as a budding teacher, it was an advocacy for change in the classroom and the played-out tactics of teaching composition. It seems that because our culture is saturated with media and networking technologies that so many have access to, it makes little sense not to incorporate these practices, including those of the DJ-as-griot into a classroom setting. This chapter is a kind of call-to-arms to the scholar-as-teacher to overhaul methods of perhaps tried but now untrue teaching tactics in favor of progressive definitions, innovative syllabus framework and lesson plan execution, as well as an emphasis on technological attention that is in the tradition of the storyteller but links to present-day and future development. Hip-hop is just one avenue for this concept (158). Banks ends with a litany of elements needed to further engage students and communities, "...we need painstaking digital documentation and preservation of African American stories, sayings, oral histories, proverbs, toasts, jokes, and other oral texts across generations in order to have a fuller historical record preserved as we continue to develop new bodies of folklore. African American rhetoric 2.0 must build a strong focus on studying and changing the relationships that endure between race, ethnicity, culture, rhetoric, and technologized spaces" (164). 

However, I have to wonder as a white guy, where this fits for me? Do I have any business bringing a Jay-Z text into the classroom or teaching a hip hop themed course? I don't think so. Therefore, I was pressed to find application. The most valuable part of the text is perhaps then how the theory is put into practice in service of the community. The seminars outlined in the center of the text which includes a recollection of how the seminars came to exist and develop, moving writing samples from contributors, and even a course outline complete with texts and topics demonstrates a rare commitment to the notion of democratic education actually at work within a segment of an educator's community. This section is worthy of expansion into its own complete theoretical text as well as an addendum of writing prompts, sources, and suggested lesson plans.I can see how when teaching freshmen, or ESL students, or just students who are trying to confront their fears about writing "the Queen's English" it seems like they would respond nicely to have course outline such as the ones Banks presents.

 

 

Question: Do you see technology as a neutral tool that does what you want it to, or do you think that the tool has a lot embedded in it that seeks to direct or influence you?  If you’re a technology user, especially in a classroom, how much of the conversation in Digital Griots is ongoing in the spaces you inhabit?

Consistency? Or not? (Steinmann)

As you might guess, I am going to point out some inconsistencies in Adam J. Banks’s chapter “Remix: Afrofuturistic Roadmaps—Rememory Remixed for a Digital Age” (Digital Griots).  Banks claims that the Dj’s remix, especially the “’old school/new school’ remix,” “offers a conceptual metaphor for the kinds of technological synthesis that can bridge old school and new school and print, oral, and digital literacies in an Afrofuturistic approach to activism and rhetorical performance” (87).

First of all, one cannot title a chapter using a term synonymous with Toni Morrison (“rememory”) and only mention her once, and not examine the term as used in its original text—especially when one is claiming these original texts are important. In Beloved, a ghost from the past comes to the present day and tortures characters almost to death. It plays mind games with them. It fucks them. It drains the lifeblood from them. Now if Banks had written something about this and made the argument that the ghost had to be dealt with in order for the characters to live in the present/future, that would be fine; but he did not. He simply sampled one line from a culturally vital novel without giving any of the backstory: the kind of sampling he later claims is not good.

Secondly, The Black Arts Movement is thrown around as something that is important to remember. Well then, tell us. No? Then I will:

Characteristics of form and content in the Black Arts Movement:

a.       Violent: they believed past black writing had all failed because it was “protest” literature; and in protesting, one is pleading—looking up still to the white master.

b.      Since there are then no literary predecessors, B.A.M. poets relied heavily on mixing forms, high culture and low culture, and jazz (particularly bebop).

c.       The music/oral/performance emphasis meant that much of the creative energy was channeled into theatre (Baraka and Sanchez, et al). Sometimes performances would go on in the street and lead to Black Power meetings inside.

d.      Addressed to the second person “you” much of the time. They were writing only for a black audience—a call to action.

We can see that the first characteristic (a) doesn’t fit with Banks’ s vision.

Thirdly, either claim that digital technology is beneficial to Black communities or not. On page 98, Banks writes because of “ravages” including “the rise of computers and the digital information age” (alongside “ravages such as HIV and crack use), black communities have fallen apart. A few pages later, he gives a two-and-a-half-page quote touting the eBlack Studies movement as something that will bring people together.

I actually really like many of the things Banks wrote about. Over half of the time I was lost in references I did not get, but I do think that we must understand our past and bring old school and new school together. I’m just not sure that Banks makes a solid case for the DJ as being the one to be the griot.

Questions for the class:

1.       Where do you get your history? What does it do for your sense of self, your sense of community?

2.       So can a non-Black poet participate in Slam Poetry? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znIXyFh6dsI

Fin

Our author mentions on page 88 an article by Kathleen Blake Yancey called “Redesigning Graduate Education in Composition and Rhetoric: The Use of Remix as Concept, Material, and Method.” Yancey’s article is centered around the English department at FSU, and how she encouraged graduate students to adjust traditional scholarship to more readily fit with a more fluid and technological era. According to Yancey, our author states, there are “methodological implications for scholarship in composition” when it comes to remix (89). Further, that a more prestigious view of remix “can lead to a reshaping of graduate curricula in order to make them more relevant to a constantly changing writing and technology landscape” (89). I agree, though tangentially, that remix could provide a model upon which to build similar but different curricula for graduate students.

In classes throughout my college education and in talking with others in the department, its not unusual to have discussions about dissertations, publishing, and a whole range of other topics related to the requirements for completing the degree. One thing that has been brought up time and time again has been the idea of a dissertation or thesis as being outdated, sometimes even to the point of being worthless in the grand scheme of completing one’s degree. Not only is it more than a little possible that the dissertation is outdated, but the process, i.e. via committee, is outdated as well, as evidenced by this article from The Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/higher-education-network/blog/2012/jan/30/academic-publishing-not-dissertation?INTCMP=SRCH

In addition to the many discussions regarding the usefulness and contemporary appropriateness of dissertations has been the topic of publishing. Dr. Birmingham recently posted on her Facebook an article from The Guardian about how the world of academic publishing has been, and continues to be “held hostage” by academic publishers who charge exorbitant fees for subscriptions. (Link: http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/2012/apr/22/academic-publishing-monopoly-challenged?INTCMP=SRCH ). This leads to a number of problems for those both in and out of the academy. Those wanting to be hired are told that their prospects of finding a good job are diminished significantly if they cannot prove that their research is publishable. Because subscriptions are so astronomically high, not only is the average person not likely to purchase, but some universities are also unable to afford the cost. Additionally, the much-lauded fact of being published means that the author(s) of a work must sign away their rights to their own intellectual property.

Clearly there are some holes in the logic of higher education, so my question is:

1) How can the concept of remix, re-interpreting pre-existing models of pretty much anything, apply to re-organizing hierarchies, like that of the higher education system, with regards to dissertations and publishing.

Digital Griots (2)

Banks looks to use the concept of remix to integrate stories of African American's historical past into the modern day.  There is a schism between young and old generations of African Americans.  One side looks to be reminiscent of the past.  The other, looks to embrace the future.  The major criticism young African Americans receive is that they are not connected to their pasts.  However, the very artistic portrayals of poetry jams and rap battles trace their roots back to oral traditions in which individuals shared their experiences through the spoken word.  By utilizing such creative expressions, and making connections to one's past, the narratives of the future will look to a new path.  It is essentially an evolution of thought.  The need to preserve one's history is still possible if one still remains primarily in the present, while incorporating a personal history.  Therefore, one's identity is maintained, while layers are added to forge new narratives that have the potential to be just as influential as the past we look to now.   

I believe this is how some individuals become creative.  They look to past innovations and ideas, and then either build off of what they have experienced, or take the idea a part and visualize another concept.  This is how past traditions have the chance to live, and how new ideas are created.  No one argues that making air travel safer and much more effective should be explored.  Engineers look to the past as they build off what they know to create a modern technology for today.  As a result, we have technology that has improved our lives.  In the same light, why should one be so resistant to new forms of art and expression, just because it's new?  As long as one looks and acknowledges the impact historical contexts have in the creative process, then fresh expressions should not be looked down upon by older generations.

Question:

What are we sacrificing when we attempt to remix?             

Avoiding Reductive Histories of Remix

Banks again calls some of my favorite scholars, including Sirc and Rice, for using ideas such as "cool" and "DJ" without understanding (or acknowledging?) the richer (black) cultural history of the terms. It seems that there is an attribution problem here, in other words.

Which is strange to me.

I understand the value of understanding the "conversation." Histories. Yet recontextualization, remix, remediation, sampling, Dj-ing seem inherently concerned with more than mere repetition, retelling of stories and traditions. (I'm obviously departing from Banks here.) Right?

Now I am calling on my own experiences, my own "back in the day" narrative, which is quite different from Banks'. I remember waiting once, with my fingers on the record and play buttons of my portable tape player, for some new R.E.M. single. I remember mixing my CDs on tapes, creating mixes. I still use tapes as an audio production medium, for many reasons. It's tactile, it's something you can write on, paint, throw on the ground, and it sounds like shit. It's lo-fi, an aesthetic in itself. Anyway, I didn't make tapes, I didn't Dj, I didn't engage in remix for the same reasons that Grandmaster Flash did, at least according to Banks. I like undercutting media, mashing, cutting, destroying sounds. I don't create to preserve, I create to break down and destroy.

Maybe I'm being dramatic here, but I think this distinction is important.
To assert that remix and Dj culture is rooted solely in the African American experience is, in my estimation, shortsighted. I agree with Banks that Dj/Remix culture is important to African American culture, but arguing the opposite ignores multimedia/remix practices that have long been a part of avant-garde practice. Futurism, Dadaism, Fluxus, dating back to the turn of the century, employed remix similar to Banks' description, but only in terms of method. The theory, the philosophy was quite different. And acknowledging multiple strains of these (re)creative methods seems both wise and ignored by Banks. This is not to say I do not agree with his critique of Sirc, Rice, and others. The use of ideas and practices specific to an historically subjugated culture is a risky affair, especially when approached with a glossed-over historical contextualization.

So how do we navigate this? That is, how do white scholars and teachers both represent Other(ed) cultures and avoid essentializing/misrepresenting them?

Does remix require attribution? Does remix require history? Or does remix allow us to remove content and method from context?

Blog: The Finale

            Banks’ concept of the “back in the day” story gives us a new way to approach the concept of remix. Banks explains, “the ‘back in the day’ narrative demonstrates exactly why African American rhetoric as an area of study is in such need of this kind of synchronizing as it foregrounds these generational tensions and at the same time shows the possibilities for a remix that provides a new narrative and a new roadmap into the future” (91). Banks mentions a little later that “back in the day” narratives provide a “living connection” to the younger generation (92). Considering the readings we have done over the semester, I feel that this is an appropriate final reading. Thinking back to Eliot’s idea of the tradition and that new author should find a place to slide into the existing work, and Barthes’ concept that the reader creates the meaning of a text when he/she reads it. Banks’ idea merges the two main components to a text, the audience and the “author.” Banks emphasizes that the African American culture needs to preserve its stories, and by extension its identity. Through the “back in the day” narrative, the act of storytelling is central to the success of this mission. Equally as important is that the “living connection” is established and the importance of the story and why it is vital to the culture. Banks stresses that both the author and the reader (listener) are needed to continue the tradition. Of course this idea is common sense, we have heard that both are essential from multiple authors, but the way that Banks discusses the situation, and both are simultaneously key components. Neither is considered more nor less important than the other.

            As soon as Banks used the term “back in the day” narratives, I stopped reading and thought about what he was saying. I’m sure everyone has heard these stories, for me, my grandma talks about walking 15 miles to school and going to the movies cost a dime. But Banks is thinking more about the collective that it creates. The younger generation is adding to their knowledge of their culture by listening to the story. And because they have knowledge, they can extend the culture. In the spirit of Eliot’s tradition, they can find their place in the tradition, and rather than replacing preexisting texts, they move it over just enough to fit themselves in. In this sense, some may not be authors, but everyone can be a reader and keep their culture alive.

Banks spends a chapter discussing black theology and describing African American traditions, is there any way we (not part of black culture) can ever truly use a black theology?

This was somewhat addressed last week during class, how can we stress to our students that the Romantic concept of the author is not the only legitimate type of author? How do we explain that remixed (digital or otherwise) texts are just as valid as the “original”? (perhaps this second one can be answered by Steve and his experience with teaching remixes)

Extension:

I find myself overall satisfied with the arguments Banks makes. His suggestion of African American Rhetoric 2.0 is a call to action of sorts, rather than just pointing out flaws in society or a culture, he gives a possible solution to it, which is something we don’t always see in these types of texts. I think it also stresses the importance and legitimacy of digital humanities. These types of project have an important purpose and are relevant today.

Final Blog

The second half of Digital Griot brings us back to the world of remix first introduced (at least, for me) by Lessig.  Like Lessig, Banks envisions remix as its own unique art form, and to quote Jess’s excellent blog post, he also describes “how old school and new school can intermix to create richer rhetorical traditions and furthermore join up to create a strong linkage between different generations of blackfolk” (Jorgensen). 

But I would actually like to return to a point raised in the first section of Digital Griot.  Last week during our class discussion, our conversation turned to the caution Banks expressed with regards to unsound pedagogical approaches to the African-American rhetorical traditions.  Our conversation touched on the potential difficulties of approaching this issue from an outsider’s perspective, and I was reminded of some of the research I did for my field experience last semester.  Dr. Kelly Sassi had been working with faculty from Sitting Bull College on writing assessment, and I became familiar with the idea of rhetorical sovereignty through an article by Scott Richard Lyons (Banks mentions Lyons in his book).  I thought it might be of interest to share some of my notes with others.

From:

Lyons, Scott Richard.  “Rhetorical Sovereignty: What Do American Indians Want from

Writing?” College Composition and Communication 51.3 (2000): 447-468.  Print.  

Lyons defines rhetorical sovereignty as “the inherent right and ability of peoples to determine their own communicative needs and desires in this pursuit, to decide for themselves the goals, modes, styles, and languages public discourse” (449-450).  He stresses the important of tribal inclusion and control with regards to writing and writing instruction, and provides readers with a historical overview of the troubled relationship between American Indians and rhetoric in the form of federal laws, treaties, and culture-eradicating pedagogical practices.     

Throughout the article, Lyons brings to focus the stakes of writing in the world of native culture.  He uses his historic examples to explain how there is a “persistent distrust” of English that still stands today (449), and mentions the suicides of two tribal acquaintances that he attributes to self-hatred caused by the cultural aftershocks of colonization (461)—aftershocks caused and/or exacerbated by attacks of rhetorical sovereignty.     

Another interesting quote:

Rhetorical sovereignty is the inherent right and ability of peoples to determine their own communicative needs and desires in this pursuit, to decide for themselves the goals, modes, styles, and languages of public discourse. Placing the scene of writing squarely back into the particular contingency of the Indian rhetorical situation, rhetorical sovereignty requires of writing teachers more than a renewed commitment to listening and learning; it also requires a radical rethinking of how and what we teach as the written word at all levels of schooling, from preschool to graduate curricula and beyond. 449-450

My question for the class: I wonder if Lyons’s concept of rhetorical sovereignty can be contextually shifted to Banks and Digital Griot?

Shifting Gears:

Because this is my last blog of the semester, I wanted to share an article I came across from the New York Times, one that claims “Lone geniuses are out. Collaboration is in.”  After sixteen weeks discussing all the ways the romantic view of authorship is firmly encoded in society, I do not agree.  But, I was wondering how the class felt.

The article can be found here.   

Digital Griots--Second Half

In the second half of our reading of Digital Griots, Adam J. Banks takes us through a definition of remix—as he sees it—which states as “the global activity of the creative and efficient exchange of information based upon technologies that is supported by the practices of cut/copy/paste” (Navas qtd by Banks 90). In this chapter, he also discusses the rhetorical tradition of “back in the day,” which he uses to illustrate how old school and new school can intermix to create richer rhetorical traditions and furthermore join up to create a strong linkage between different generations of blackfolk. He also discusses how the “back in the day” narrative is used to critique cultures of the past and present, but how these narratives can also join ourselves to one another.

The second chapter, mixtape, was the most interesting for me because of how he tackles the way we teach composition. We teach it in one of three ways: 1. uphold the status quo 2. declare political and ethical neutrality and 3. base one’s work in changing the current system (112). I have to admit that I do a lot of #2 in class though I would really love to embrace #3 more and I think I do in some units more than others. But mainly, I feel #2 because of the student population at NDSU where many students are from middle class backgrounds and are rather conservative as well. And this is particularly stronger in teaching UDW courses because let’s face it: the working poor are the students I understand best and they don’t often stay in college, though I think more and more have been staying because of opportunities afforded to them. (I might be being hopeful, however.)

Mainly, I think I do understand Banks concerns for the most part, despite the fact I am not well versed in African American Rhetoric. (Is there a poor white trash rhetoric? Probably. And I think the place of unions in working poor culture might be an interesting avenue to look into). I for one do wish more students from the working poor backgrounds/people from poverty stayed in college. Most of people from backgrounds like mine do not stay because we feel out of place, feel we can’t do it, or have other reasons for leaving. (Often, we get caught up in family situations and economic situations that we can’t control and lose hope. It is easy to do.) So I think what Banks is trying to do is find avenues to give the blackfolk organic intellectual (as originated by Antonio Gramsci) a place and continue and strengthen the black theology and other ideas in the African American community that already exist through digital discourses and other means.

Questions:

·      How could Banks ideas work to change the way we teach composition and our present ideas of plagiarism? 

Digital Griots

Adam Banks' Digital Griots brings to light the issue of African American storytelling through a digital medium.  Traditions that run throughout the African American community are explored, which allow composition instructors to understand the culture at hand.  In turn, this practice has the potential to improve instruction in the classroom, specifically for African American students who struggle to identify with images that do not represent them. 

As Banks states in the following quote, he is concerned with the complete realm of griots that function to represent the African American community.       

While I'm not one to have a problem with a creative video game, I'm interested in far  more than simply the isolated techniques of scratching on a turntable or hitting a  cross-fader-for me, it is the wide range of cultural practices, multiple literacies,  rhetorical mastery, and knowledge of traditions that DJs in black traditions represent that make them griots, link them to other griotic figures, and offer a model for writing that thoroughly weaves together oral performance, print literacy, mastery and interrogation of technologies, and technologies that can lead to a renewed vision for both composition and African American rhetoric (13). 

As cultural traditions are represented through mediums of technology, theories of pedagogical practice are thus formed to include those who may be left out of the traditional classroom.  Banks mentions an important point when stating that he's more interested in the rhetorical practices of those constructing remixes.  By incorporating African American individuals who have made creative works into the classroom, students can thus see themselves in their own writing. 

One aspect of a griot is that of a storyteller. One that expresses oral traditions by memorizing stories to share amongst a sizable crowd.  One way this is still seen through the digital medium is via Def Poetry, also known as Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam.  The show featured both famous and lesser known spoken word poets.  The majority of the poets were African American.  This show allowed individuals to express themselves freely on television through the use of poetry.  The style of poetry was different from that of other forms, which shed further light on African American rhetoric. The poetry that the audience heard and saw was unique to the African American experience.  Poets presented issues of race, class, poverty, economics, and gender to a world-wide audience.  Their voices were thus heard and appreciated by a television medium that did not have such programming that predominately included African Americans, since the inception of this show.  This program explored the power of the spoken word, which relates back to the traditional griot, but in a modern digital world where millions could share in the experience.     

In a similar way, freestyle rap has also emerged onto the digital scene, which also holds a historical tradition, specifically with the original griots. Freestyle rap allows musicians to rhythmically put together lyrics off the top of their heads, otherwise known as improvisation.  Individuals who partake in such an activity express themselves through rhymes that paint various pictures of personal stories of one's past.  It is poetry in motion, and those who practice in the medium have the opportunity to express themselves freely, while making a connection to the past.  In the classroom, if students are taught the conventions of poetry, and then allowed to put theory into practice through freestyle rap, instructors receive a firsthand acknowledgement of their poetry lesson at hand. In order for a student to learn, being able to relate to the matter will help during any instructional lesson. 

Question:

Is the practice of creation democratized if certain individuals in society don't have access to devices to create with the use of technology?       

DJ

In my ignorance & before reading the excerpt from Digital Griots, I had to look up the term griot.  In my online search, I came across a trailer for a movie titled Griot (a documentary about the collaborative efforts of two musicians from different cultures that met and found strong similarities in the music that each was creating), which included this text:  "a mind full of knowledge a word full of solution."  This simple phrase stuck with me as I read Banks’ intro and first few chapters.

Banks described the DJ as a modern manifestation of griot–storyteller, of an oral tradition, holding the community’s trust and telling stories that can be seen as “survival technologies” that demonstrate the resistance of a community to being coded out of a dominant society (22).  He described the DJ/griot as a “time binder” per Tom Hale in Griots and Griottes (23). He likened the practice of the DJ/griot to the practice of a digital, multimodal literacy:  "arranging, layering, sampling, and remixing . . ., keeping the culture, telling their stories and ours, binding time as they move the crowd and create and maintain community” (24), but also using verbal play in way that reflected the values of the community and helped to shape the moral character of their listeners (24, quoting Gilbert Williams’ work). It is a powerful theoretical, metaphorical reframing of literacy that does indeed seem to have potential as we develop notions of digital literacy, particularly for people that are marginalized in our real spaces and now in our cyberspaces.

It seems that the digital world bears the burdens of our real world prejudices as actors there import their biases, racisms, homophobias, misogyny into these new spaces, but Banks' book really reinforced for me both the value of reflecting and thinking critically about our behavior and the great potential for a digital literacy to affect how those spaces are ultimately built.  This hasn’t happened yet; it is happening now.  I think this is in part something that fascinated me about Banks’ emphasis on the quality of the griot that is nonlinear, unbound by time.  Such a metaphor as this allows us to simultaneously consider traditional binaries such as resistance/oppression, self/community and tradition/future.  Thinking back to the words that struck me in the movie trailer, it seems to me that this is how words full of solution become actual solutions to inequality, denial of access, denial of recognition and self.  As Banks more eloquently states it:

helps us to imagine both social resistance and affirmation, helps us to link divergent and sometimes competing narratives without flattening their differences, and helps us to keep cultures and technologies linked (30).

So, while thinking about what it means to be a modern day griot, to “imagine these Hip Hop principles as a blueprint for social resistance and affirmation: create sustaining narratives, accumulate them, layer, embellish, and transform them” (27), I began to wonder what are some examples of these practices is being used.  Further, how can we use this in terms of pedagogy?

The DJ as Griot

Adam J. Banks’s Digital Griots: African American Rhetoric in a Multimedia Age calls for a repositioning of the study of African American rhetorical traditions, and seeks to do so by linking the modern DJ to the figure of the griot.  When I first picked up the book I did some digging around for a working definition of the word “griot,” which I was not familiar with.  Wikipeida has this to say, focusing on the figure as a "repository of oral tradition,” and then Banks himself extensively addresses the term in his text:

There is far more to the griot than storytelling…the griot is often a master of both words and music who is a storyteller, praise singer, and historian in many of those West African cultures.  The griot is sometimes an entertainer, sometimes a counselor to chiefs and leaders, but regardless of the range between playful and serious, the griot is absolutely essential to the life of his or her society…(22)

During our Lessig conversations we examined the ways technology has served to democratize the act of both creation and publication.  A certain question kept coming up again and again: can anybody be an author?  With this question I mind, my attention was drawn to Banks’s comments about a recently released video game called DJ Hero, which he mentions while speaking to the dangers of unsound pedagogical approaches to DJ-as-griot:

The recent video game DJ Hero and its appropriation of the DJ provide the perfect example of the danger of such isolated ripping.  The game reduces the practices of the DJ to a mere cross-fader and turntable.  While I’m not one to have a problem with a creative video game, I’m interested in far more than simply the isolated techniques of scratching on a turntable or hitting a cross-fader—for me, it is the wide range of cultural practices, multiple illiteracies, rhetorical mastery, and knowledge of traditions that DJs in black traditions represent that make them griots, link them to other griotic figures, and offer a model for writing that thoroughly weaves together oral performance, print literacy, mastery and interrogation of technologies, and technologies that can lead to a renewed vision for both composition and African-American rhetoric. (13)

DJ Hero was a later spinoff of the wildly successful Guitar Hero series, wherein players equipped with button-based guitars play along to color-coded “notes” on the screen.  While the Practice Mode of these games feature randomized notes and chords, the active playing mode features popular hits from a variety of different bands: Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, Nirvana, Lenny Kravitz, Ozzy Osbourne, Modest Mouse, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger & and the Silver Bullet Band (to name just a few).  While some have maintained that the game’s drum playing mode can actually help players learn to play real drums, the guitar instrument in no way, shape, or form conforms to the mechanics of playing a real guitar.   

Here’s a picture of some guitar controllers. 

And Here’s a video a player posted of his error-free rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” on Expert Mode. 

Now, as Banks mentioned, the DJ Hero controller is a turntable and three “stream buttons” : a cross-fader, an effects dial, and a Euphoria button (a way for players to score additional bonus points).  Here is a picture of the game equipment:

And here is the commercial developers ran to advertize the game.   

So, going back to the question of “Who can be an author?”…I guess this is an overly long way to say I found myself a little confused with Banks’s mention of the game, which to me reads as a condemnation of sorts.  It is true: the video game is not going to encapsulate the importance of griotic figures.  But won’t it allow people who might otherwise have no opportunity the chance to experiment with the practice of remix—even in a limited manner?  Banks mentions shortly after his DJ Hero reference that   

   

The preacher, storyteller, standup comic, everyday black people in conversation, and the DJ can help black students see themselves reflected more genuinely in writing classrooms and theory and can benefit all students looking for a greater appreciation of the multiple connected and diverging cultural influences on writing in a society that is (very slowly) becoming more genuinely inclusive and multicultural.  (14)

Certainly video games can’t offer the DJ the full rhetorical status he or she is due, or explore the DJ’s place in oral traditions that span centuries.  But I would argue that having a mass-marketed game where students could see themselves and their traditions would at the very least contribute a little something to that sense of inclusion.   Going back to the Guitar Hero example: no, a player will not learn how to play an actual guitar, but perhaps, via exposure, they will become interested in a new genre of music.  And in fact, there has been a noticeable impact on music sales for songs included on Guitar Hero / Rock Band video game playlists.        

Question for the class:

What are some pedagogical techniques instructors can use that would help students see themselves more genuinely reflected in writing classrooms?