Of Digital Divides and Inequalities

The 'Digital Divide' is a reference to the simple fact that there are those who have access to computer technology and those who do not. The digital divide has both global and national implications. On a global scale, measurements and results are used to compare the people of one nation to the people of another in terms of who does and who does not have easy access to computing technology. For example, a quick look at the CIA World Factbook tells us that 73% of Americans are classified as Internet users; 18% of of China's population are classified as such (2009). On a national scale, we might use statistics garnered from public schools to show that 83% of American school students in 2003 accessed the Internet at school; 17% of students in the U.S. were, of course, without access (Carvin 2006).

By comparison, the concept of 'Digital Inequality' is more complex. Demographers and researchers studying digital inequality certainly pore over studies concerning the technological "haves" and "have-nots", but they tend to focus more on the variations within the "haves" group. They examine the percentages of men versus women regularly accessing the Internet; the likelihood of African-American teens in urban schools regularly using computer technology to complete their assignments versus Caucasian teens in rural settings; or the preponderance of Latino families accessing the Internet at home versus Native American families.

The difference between the two concepts is important to understand. CNN correspondents or economists working in the field of development economics are far more likely to frame their research and discussions in terms of a digital divide among people living in nations with a sophisticated technological infrastructure and people living in nations that are lacking such an infrastructure. Trends within U.S. public schools show an increasing percentage of American students with regular access to the Internet at school. Close to 95% of American public school children had regular Internet access at their schools as of 2005, up sharply from a decade earlier (Internet Access in U.S. Public Schools...). For those of us interested in educational policy in the U.S., a focus on the concept of digital inequality is far more useful than a relatively simplistic focus on the issue of the digital divide.

Once defined, the concept of  'Digital Inequality' must be measured. Here, an analysis of Internet usage among all Americans can be helpful. In a 2004 review of the academic literature devoted to measuring the degree of digital inequality in the U.S., for example, DiMaggio etal. found that significant disparities exist with respect to Internet usage among: African-Americans versus non-African Americans; people of lower income levels versus people with higher income levels; people with a high school degree versus people with a college degree; as well as people between the ages of 18-25 versus people over the age of 55. The inequalities are out there.

Addressing such inequalities is perplexing task, involving a myriad of local, state, and federal officials, interested parties, and institutions. The DiMaggio etal. study found, for example, that more survey work and study is required (2004). Their findings may not set well with parents of school-age children in 2009! In the latest version of the U.S. Census Bureau's Public Education Finances, the Bureau indicates that average per-pupil expenditure for students attending public elementary and high schools was $9666 (2009). It would be easy to imagine the redirection of perhaps $250-$500 of that per-pupil expenditure towards purchasing every public school student a mini-laptop computer, for example. With every public school student in possession of laptop technology at all times during the school day, digital inequalities would be lessened. But such a proposal would require massive state-wide investment in creating and sustaining a wireless infrastructure for all public schools. Teachers and administrators would need intensive training on teaching in a 1:1 laptop environment. School budgets would swell in order to accommodate IT staffing positions and computer repair bills. So even a simple solution, such as purchasing a laptop for every public school student in the U.S., becomes a complicated endeavor.

Despite the complications, a few conclusions are apparent: a) a focus on the concept of a digital divide in the U.S. is too simplistic; b) shifting focus in the U.S. towards a model of addressing digital inequalities seems quite appropriate; c) measuring the degree of digital inequality in the U.S. will require ongoing academic study; and d) effectively addressing digital inequalities will require the coordinated efforts of officials, institutions, and other interested parties (including private corporations) at all levels within the U.S. educational system. The task of appropriately addressing digital inequalities will not be an easy one.

References

CIA World Factbook. (2009). Country Comparisons:: Internet Users. CIA World Factbook. Retrieved (2009, September 12) from https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/rankorder/2153rank.html.

Carvin, Andy (2006). New Govt Report Exposes the School-Home Digital Divide. PBS Teachers: learning.now, Retrieved (2009, September 12) from http://www.pbs.org/teachers/learning.now/2006/09/new_report_exposes_the_schoolh.htm.

DiMaggio, P., Hargittai, E., Celeste, C., & Shafer, S. (2004). From unequal access to differentiated use: A literature review and agenda for research on digital inequality. Social Inequality, 355-400. Retrieved (2009, September 12) from http://www.eszter.com/research/pubs/dimaggio-etal-digitalinequality.pdf.

U.S. Census Bureau. Public Education Finances, 2007. (2009). Retrieved (2009, September 13) from http://www2.census.gov/govs/school/07f33pub.pdf.

U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics. (2006). Internet Access in U.S. Public Schools and Classrooms: 1994-2005.

The Gospel According to St. Larry

During the mass in the Roman Catholic Church, there are three readings from scripture, at least this is what I recall. I must confess - pun intended - that I have not been inside of any church for well over a decade, and I am certain that if I do venture into a church, the unfortunate parishioners would see crosses falling as swarms of locusts and frogs inundate their poor heavenly venue. You just cannot take the Lord's name in vain as many times as I have in the past ten years and expect to avoid being visited by a few of the seven plagues. In any event, there are three readings from scripture during the Catholic mass, and two of the three readings are performed by loyal parishioners, while the last reading, and usually the most poignant, is performed by the priest. When their time has come in the course of the service, the lay readers solemnly climb the altar, stepping slowly to the lectern, and then they recite their lines from the Bible with all the vim and vigor that you would expect from an afternoon reading in the geriatric ward of a hospital. After the readings are finished, the service continues on through the blessing of the sacraments until it reaches a crescendo as the priest bestows the sacraments to the members of his parish. Grace thus obtained, the parishioners then go on their merry ways, drinking and sinning for remainder of the week, until Sunday dawns anew, and the entire process starts afresh. This is, at least, what I can recall.

It is Sunday morning and it is entirely too early for me to be up. In fact, I only just went to bed a couple of hours ago. I am eighteen, and I have candles that I am blow-torching at both ends. I shall sleep when I am dead, and for now, sleep is simply a minor annoyance that occurs between nights out with friends. Last night was just such a night. I spent it exactly as Father Patterson warned me not to spend it - drinking and carousing. I do not drink much (yet), but I love to carouse; in fact, I am a first rate carouser, much to Father P's dismay. Last night's carousing was especially fine, but now I am paying the price. It is 8 a.m. on Sunday morning and I have arisen with a throbbing headache, and my mouth tasting like the insides of my old Chuck Taylors. My brothers and I, however, come from good Catholic stock and like most Catholics of our age, we have a drug problem; that is to say that on every Sunday, hungover or not, we are drug off to mass. This morning's mass is duly critical as my father Larry has recently become a lay reader and is reading from the scripture. So with obligatory grunts and groans ringing in my parents' ears, we are off to mass on this warm summer morning.

The church is stiflingly hot this morning. The five ceiling fans that adorn the chapel are whirring mightily, but at sixty feet up, they are butterflies flapping in a hurricane. I am fidgeting, red-faced and sweating, while my brothers, each on either side of me, are elbowing me in the ribs. They know they have me on the ropes this morning, and they know, too, that as the oldest of the three, I probably won't elbow back, not until I get them back home. I have resigned myself to fidget and shoot them dirty looks. I am also shooting equally dirty looks at the damn pathetic ceiling fans, inwardly grumbling about the relative utility of bulls possessing tits.

After an excruciating 20 minutes or so, it is Larry's turn to read. He stands up, full of pride and solemnity. Nearing 50 years of age, he cuts a fine figure of a man in his prime, resplendent in a beige leisure suit. His dark hair, greying at the temples, is pressed just so, and he reminds me of Starsky, or Hutch, I can't remember which this morning; whichever one had dark hair. He makes his way slowly, up the altar and then to the lectern, pausing for dramatic effect. He clears his throat with a soft "ahem" (not to be confused with "amen"), and he begins to read his passage from the gospel of St. Luke. His voice is warm and rich, his reading commanding attention. I can hear pins dropping as he pauses between each verse.

There is a funny thing about the particularly version of the Bible we are using that year, especially this particular passage from St. Luke's gospel. Although the version is highly readable and has been refined so as to be extremely relevant, the redactors have included a few tongue-twisters, and Larry is confidently approaching one particularly tricky passage. The line reads, "... and he shall sit at the right hand of the Lord." The human mouth is capable of uttering a myriad of sounds, and although no one has been able to chart the breadth of just how many sounds we can summon, there is something rather difficult about correctly pronouncing a word that begins with "sh" followed directly by a word that begins simply with an "s". Larry was to have read about an exalted man beaming as he is sitting at God's right hand, but instead, Larry's bloke defecated. After reading the verse, Larry pauses... and I can hear a pin, or perhaps a small turd, drop.

I am suddenly fighting not against my jostling brothers, but against an avalanche of laughter suppressed. I cannot get the image of a man in a white robe, beaming and squatting, out of my head. I imagine Larry is continuing on with his reading, but I am in the midst of a titanic battle against the forces of Satan and their demonic sense of humor, and I am losing. I am going to burn in hell, I know it, but this is funny as shit. Larry finishes and walks ever so quickly back to the church pew. All is quiet. As he sits at my mother's right hand, I lose my heavenly battle, letting loose with a squelched laugh which rattles the roof of my mouth and echoes throughout the church. My brothers follow suit.

Afterward, I recall only this: my mother and father sitting tensely next to three teenage boys, shoulders shaking, fighting in vain against violent surges of demonic laughter. We gave church a miss the next week.