Futures of Learning

From 2001 to 2006, The University of Tokyo Graduate School of Interdisciplinary Information Studies has been the home to the Media Expression, Learning, and Literacy Project (MELL). This project is one of the largest projects in Japan dealing with media literacy.This past summer, we spoke to Hisamatsu Mizushima from Tokai University about the project.

Mizushima had left a career in advertising and a job at Infoseek Japan to start graduate school in Information Studies at Tokyo University. There he met Shin Mizukoshi, a sociologist and one of the founders of the MELL project. In addition to Mizukoshi, the early participants in the MELL project included educational researcher Yuhei Yamauchi, public television producer Katsumi Ichikawa, journalist Akiko Sugaya, and high school educator Naoya Hayashi. The project was led by these five, bur also included 80 members comprised of researchers, graduate students, media professionals, teachers, NPOs and community organizations across the country, as well as 4-500 supporters who subscribed to the MELL email list. The project was funded by The University of Tokyo, Graduate School of Interdisciplinary Information Studies, the National Association of Commercial Broadcasters in Japan, Benesse Corporation, http://www.moba-ken.jp/english”>NTT DoCoMo Mobile Society Research Institute.

Mizushima describes the situation in Japan at the time that Mizukoshi began the MELL project in 2000. It was a period still dominated by traditional mass media such as mainstream newspapers and television stations. Mizukoshi used to describe this as an context where government policy has populated the hills and valleys of Japan completely with cypress. The native species in each region had been cut down to make way for forests of large cypress.  In the shadows of these huge trees, grasses struggle to grow, and small animals and insects have difficulty surviving. The ecology of Japanese media had become like these cypress forests, where cable television, community radio, and other smaller-scale community media forms could not survive in the shadow of mainstream mass media.

In the nineties, Mizushima was beginning to see this situation start to change. Digital media was spreading, and the mass media were under suspicion because of various cases of false reports and faked forms of media reporting. With the adoption of digital media, there was the potential for citizens to actively participate in media rather than simply consuming mass media. The MELL project was developed based on the idea of having people make their own media while simultaneously building new networks and organizations for media making.

Mizukoshi used the ecological term “media biotope” (link to Japanese page) to describe his effort to support participatory community media. A biotope is sphere optimized for certain organisms to inhabit. His idea was to create a fertile ground for a variety of different trees to grow, and to challenge the media environment that had become blanketed exclusively by cypress. Mizukoshi writes, “Just as it is critical for humans as organisms to have access to diverse ecologies, it is critical for humans as social beings to have access to diverse media ecologies.”

Here I’d like to introduce two of the diverse projects that were part of MELL.

“Understand TV by Making TV: Let’s Make a News Program!” is a project that links schools and local television through a class on television program production. The goal of the project is to shift the students’ identity from that of a media consumer to a media producer. High school students are placed in groups of four and do research, shooting, and editing for a 3-minute news program that is broadcast over local TV. Of course, the students have questions about what kinds of themes they should take up and how they should represent them. They also frequently encounter difficulties execiting their shoot, or have to change their plans after conducting research. The staff of the TV station step in to offer advice. Through this process of trial and error, the students learn that even in the case of news that aims to portray the facts, the information that gets represented on TV is a simplified version of what has happened. By breaking down the boundaries between broadcast stations and the school, this project helps develop both a critical and expressive eye towards the media.
Another MELL project is “Let’s Make a Magazine of New Living.” In contrast to the prior project, which focuses on high school students, this project supports mothers in designing a community-oriented email magazine oriented to issues in their everyday life. Although young mothers are generally put in the position of media consumers, they share a strong interest in child rearing. This project does not simply support the acquisition of the technical skills needed to create an email magazine. In addition, it creates a cultural foundation for pushing forward a project with their own effort. The resulting email magazine, a conversation space for young mothers in one Tokyo district, continued after the MELL project members left the effort. The MELL project members did not take the role of controlling the project, but rather helped incubate it in the initial start-up phase. The outcomes of the project are very much in the hands of the participating mothers.

The MELL project conceives of media literacy in a way that is quite different from media literacy programs that look purely at the reception of mass media. Instead, the project aims to develop critical literacy as well as expressive literacy that can open up new kinds of communicative action. It pays attention to previously ignored media biotopes that correspond to small social spaces. The project’s media literacy practice involves having members consider the history and specific media contexts of the localities they work in, and to proactively build a media biotope based on this environment. This approach goes beyond media literacy approaches the focus only on how to critically interpret media texts. By mobilizing digital media, the MELL project seeks to build independent and diverse media ecologies.

Mizushima describes how over a five-year period, project members planted the seeds of the MELL project in a diverse range of practices. Although the MELL project ended in 2006, the work continues in a new project, MELL Platz (Plaza) (link to Japanese page), that brings together former members of the project. Although each individual field project under the MELL umbrella may have been small in scope, the graduate students and other project members who become involved have become organizers in a wide range of local media biotopes. Mizushima sees this as the biggest achievement of the MELL project. As the members of the project have scattered to different parts of the country, they have built local networks in different regions, and spread the seeds of the project further. MELL Platz has become the community that links these different efforts. We can expect to see small but important changes to the Japanese media landscape emerging from these distributed local efforts.

You can read the “Tokyo Declaration” from MELL Project here

As China has become an increasingly central actor on the world stage, and with the 2008 Olympics recently held in Beijing, there is a great deal of interest in this vast and diverse nation. China is undergoing numerous changes, not least of which is its rapid growth in telecommunications: it currently leads the world in both number of mobile phone subscriptions and Internet users, with roughly 616 million and 253 million, respectively, according to Chinese government statistics. In this post I will discuss one aspect of digital media use in China: how young rural-to-urban migrants in Beijing are using mobile phones as a crucial tool for building and enriching their social networks. My discussion here is based on a portion of my recently completed research in Beijing (Wallis, 2008), in which I was concerned with how young migrants, especially young women, engaged with mobile phones to create meaning in their lives in the city, and what economic, social, cultural, and structural forces enabled and constrained such usage within the dislocations and contradictions that characterize contemporary China. I was primarily concerned with what I call “socio-techno practices,” or the ways in which new communication technologies are integrated into existing social practices and at the same time open up new spaces or possibilities for their enactment.

To briefly provide some context, while rural-to-urban migration is common throughout the world, the role of the state in China makes migration there an interesting phenomenon. Prior to the government’s policy of “reform and opening” (gaige kaifang) in the late seventies, China’s household registration system (hukou) severely restricted people’s mobility and with few exceptions kept the rural and the urban populations separated geographically and culturally. Though substantially weakened, the hukou still serves as an institutional barrier that prevents those from rural areas from gaining full urban citizenship, and it works as a cultural barrier, helping to perpetuate myriad forms of exploitation and discrimination against rural “peasants” who migrate from the countryside to seek work in China’s cities. Deemed a “floating population” (liudong renkou), migrant workers are largely responsible for building the incredible infrastructure that has gone up in China’s cities in recent years, including Beijing’s National Aquatics Center (the Water Cube) and the National Stadium (the Bird’s Nest) that were on display during the Olympics. And though migrants also staff the shops, restaurants, and marketplaces that are now everywhere, for the most part they cannot participate in such modes of consumption and leisure enjoyed by China’s rising middle class (and elites). Young migrant women are often called dagongmei, meaning “working little sister” or “maiden worker,” a term that connotes a young, unmarried woman with low status and few rights. In the media and official documents, they are frequently portrayed as weak and vulnerable, even though they might not see themselves that way.

My study involved about 70 women and 20 men who were young (aged 16 to 25), single, and had journeyed to Beijing after finishing some or all of middle school. They were employed in restaurants, marketplaces, and hair salons, where they hoped to earn some income, learn some skills, and “see the world,” as they put it. They tended to earn rather low wages, and many worked 10 or 12 hours a day, some with one or two days off per month and others with no days off except during Chinese New Year. The women in particular occupied a very limited social space; usually their lives revolved around their jobs and their dorm or tiny apartment, which was often supplied by their employer. Their circumscribed place was further enforced by spatial and discursive power relations that construct the city as unsafe and unwelcoming due to their position as women and outsiders, marked by their accent, their build, and their mannerisms. Several women told me that though they might have a relative in Beijing, such as an aunt, uncle, or sibling, their friends (as opposed to co-workers) did not live in Beijing, and even when they had friends in Beijing, it was often hard for them to meet due to work schedules and distances (Beijing is a very large city and traveling by bus, as migrants do, is often quite time consuming).

So how does a mobile phone make a difference for them? Many of the men and women I interviewed had grown up without a landline in their family home. They also did not have one in their residence in Beijing, and their access to fixed-line phones at work was either non-existent or very limited. While there are pay phones and “call bars” all over Beijing, these are inconvenient and lack privacy. Perhaps it is not surprising then that the first “big” item bought by all the migrants I knew was a cell phone. Buying their first phone was such a significant event that nearly every participant in my study could tell me the date, time, and place of the purchase, who had accompanied them, the price, and how long it had taken them to save up enough money (usually several months). Often sacrifices were involved in buying a mobile phone and tough choices had to be made: a phone was bought instead of new clothes, a television, a bike, or even a precious train ticket home after months of being away.

As the first major item purchased with one’s urban wages, and one on which an inordinate amount of money is spent – often one or two month’s salary even when cheaper models are available, as also noted in prior research among migrant workers in China’s southern factories (Law & Peng, 2006; Yang & Chu, 2006) – clearly a cell phone has symbolic meaning. But more importantly, such telephonic “leapfrogging” makes a profound difference in migrants’ ability both to increase and enhance their social networks. In other words, it allows them to build up contacts in a manner previously unavailable and provides an important means for expanding their personal networks (guanxiwang), something extremely vital in a culture where personal relationships and bonds of reciprocity are often crucial for facilitating numerous types of social functions. Perhaps even more important than the expanded social networks enabled by the mobile phone, however, is the way the cell phone is used to enrich social relationships. Given the constraints on migrants’ time, the circumscribed social world they occupy in the city, and the far distances that often separate them from those with whom they are emotionally close, the ability to surpass these spatial, temporal, and structural barriers is extremely important. What I noted on many occasions was that many close friendships were maintained strictly through a mobile phone; that is, it is not mostly a “supportive communication technology” (Yoon, 2003) for relationships that are primarily sustained through face-to-face contact. It was instead what I call an “expansive communication tool,” used not only for maintaining ties with friends who are now spread all over China but also with those who although in the same city are nonetheless geographically unreachable. 

For this reason, the connectivity provided through the mobile phone should not be underestimated. Connectivity means communication, which lies at the heart of the social world, and such connectivity allows migrants – often isolated, often discriminated against – an anchoring and inclusion in networks of sociality that are crucial to their well-being in the city. In this regard, the sheer convenience of the cell phone is also not a trivial matter (and it is interesting to note that not one of my informants ever mentioned safety as a reason for buying a phone). For most migrants, especially young women, the mobile phone is not just one more communication device added to a fixed-line phone and/or a computer with Internet access. It is their primary, if not only, means of keeping in touch with others. Certainly prior to the arrival of the mobile phone, migrant workers remained in contact with family and very close friends, through using public phones, writing letters, with pagers, and so forth. However, the transformation in ease and frequency of access facilitated via the mobile phone is hard to fathom for those of us who have been surrounded by ubiquitous telephony our entire lives. For China’s young rural-to-urban migrants, and most likely for other populations with similarly constrained material circumstances, inclusion in social networks via the mobile phone thus serves as a counter-domination tactic against such limiting and limited life conditions. Often studies of how marginalized populations use new communication technologies such as cell phones understandably put heavy emphasis on economic outcomes, yet the affective/emotional benefits for such groups are also extremely significant and a rich area for further exploration.

References
China Internet Network Information Center (CNNIC) (http://www.cnnic.cn).

China Ministry of Industry and Information Technology (http://www.miit.gov.cn).

Law, Pui-lam, and Yinni Peng. “The Use of Mobile Phones among Migrant Workers in Southern China.” In New Technologies in Global Societies, edited by Pui-lam Law, Leopoldina Fortunati, and Shanhua Yang, 245-258. Singapore: World Scientific, 2006.

Yang, Shanhua, and Wai-chi Chu. ”Shouji: Quanqiuhua Beijingxia de ‘Zhudong’ Xuanze—Zhusanjiao Diqu Nongmingong Shouji Xiaofei de Wenhua he Xintai de Jiedu (“Mobile Phone: ‘Selecting Their Own Initiative’ under the Background of Globalization”).” In Jincheng Nongmingong: Xianzhuang, Qushi, Women Neng Zuo Xie Shenme (Rural-Urban Migrants: Situations, Trends and What we can do), 301-308. Beijing, China: People’s University Institute for Agriculture and Rural Development, 2006.

Yoon, Kyongwon. “Retraditionalizing the Mobile: Young People’s Sociality and Mobile Phone Use in Seoul, Korea,” European Journal of Cultural Studies, 6.33 (2003): 327-343.

Wallis, Cara. “Technomobility in the Margins: Mobile Phones and Young Rural Women in Beijing.” Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation. University of Southern California, 2008.

Cho-Han Hae-Joang et al, Seoul, Korea: Yonsei University Press, 2007

I visited Korea recently. Since it was a short stay, I did not have much chance to update myself with busy observations on ever-changing technosphere in Korea as I would usually do. Yet I managed to meet a young cultural studies researcher, Kim Hee-Won who has been keeping a sharp eye on the Internet world and its young inhabitants, thanks to Larissa Hjorth’s kind introduction. Chatting with/interviewing Hee-Won in the midst of my jet lag stupor was more than refreshing, and we simply could not agree more about the dearth (and urgency) of serious research on new media practices and cultures in Korea in the shadow of the hyped image of wired Korea.

One of interesting points from our conversation that grabbed me was Hee-Won’s view on the generational identity of young Koreans in their 20s with regards to their new media practices. Hee-Won reads their intensive attachment to such new media services as Minihompy, messenger, and SMS and their often obsessive attempt to be constantly connected as a form of performing a reciprocal “check-up of (their) survival for another day.” It is generally true that these new social media intensify the sense of ‘constant on’ for users across generations. Yet as Hee-Won suggests, this practice may reflect the desire for the emotional comfort from assuring one’s presence within the network. In particular, this interpretation makes quite appealing sense when it comes to Korean youth in 20s whose insecure social status, resulted from increasing unemployment rate since 1997 economic crisis, has become a widely acknowledged social issue. In other words, Internet has provided the major playground and outlet for this frustrated generation.

Our speculation on this specific group of youth got me rethinking and reassured about the simple principle of our study on digital media and youth: the importance of considering historical and cultural specificity of diverse groups of young people under the umbrella of the term ‘youth’ as well as recording the transformative and transient nature of media practices. Certainly, Internet would not be the same space for Korean teenager who is born into it with many other available options of digital media and the twenty something whose primal new media experience began with the burgeoning Internet.

Moreover, I am glad to find my question is not wasted yet more profoundly addressed in Internet and Asian Cultural Studies, an anthology Hee-Won kindly gave me. Written in Korean by renowned as well as young cultural studies researchers who are mostly rooted in Yonsei University’s Graduate Program in Culture and Gender Studies, this book provides a great historical standpoint to what they call, “holding back” moment of Internet culture in Korea. Declaring the end of the first stage of Internet fever, it attempts to surmise the legacy of wired Korea in early 2000s and record the transition of the Internet from the wild new space for various voluntary and civil experiments to the striated space for tired/accustomed patterns overrun by the commercial logic, at the threshold of institutionalized “networked era.”

Each article based primarily on ethnographical field research presents so many interesting findings and rich details of what have constructed newly emerging alternative space for Korean and Korean youth. Yet, an anthology format always makes it hard to dwell on each argument. To briefly introduce the gamut of researches, the book includes Cho-Han Hye-Joang’s thought-provoking review of the history of Korean Internet culture with focus on specific ‘agencies’ and ‘sites’; Kim-Cheong Hee-Won’s comprehensive analysis on Cyworld community; Hwang Sang-Min’s, an author of the Dehanminkook Cyber Sinillyu (Korean Cyber New Generation), qualitative study on online community, Gaming(Maple Story), and the role of play for learning and identity formation in cyberspace; Park Geon-Ha on Progamers’ world; Yun Te-Jin on the transnational consumption of popular cultural products, especially reception of foreign television drama content across Asia; Kim Hak-Sil and Lee Chung-Han on active consumption and re-appropriation of Japanese entertainment content by young Korean fans; Kim Hyun-Mi on the lagged establishment of accompanying laws and policies and shifting cultural values in Internet space.

In spite of limited space here, I would like to highlight Cho-Han Hye-Joang’s works as her article presents overarching themes of the book. Cho-Han is a renowned cultural anthropologist who has been delving into the issues of gender and youth culture in modern Korea for the last 30 years. She is one of few anthropologists who not only keep critical eyes but also act out pronouncedly on the emerging cultures and changes of Korean society along with Internet and new media technologies. For example, Seoul Youth Factory for Alternative Culture (Haja Center), where Cho-Han is the founding director, is one of exemplary institutional projects that run alternative and innovative learning programs for young people.

In her article, she raises two questions: how has Korea established the infrastructure of the Internet network so fast and where are the Internet venture companies and online netizens who built and grew out of this environment now? While there have been various academic and journalistic attempts to unearth the secret behind the success of IT-power house Korea, Cho-Hans’s answer to the first question resonates to those views that pinpoint the operating discourse of techno-nationalism underlying rapid technological developments, which I also see as the central drive behind the development of mobile technology in Korea. It is no doubt that the nationalistic and collective (state-leading yet with active engagement of market and citizens) model, which had once worked well for the rapid industrialization of Korea, did the same trick for the informatization during the 1990s. What Cho-Han adds, based on her rich experience as an educator and early adopter of the Internet at every stage, is her reflective examination of the role of the ‘civil’ sector - the vigorous civil and voluntary experiments in online space of early days (1998-2002)- which she characterizes as the process of establishing “condensed modernization,” “cyber democracy,” temporary self-regulated space,” and “alternative public space.”

In spite of many strong points, however, this book bears one noticeable weakness: the limited attention to the ‘Asian’ aspect of given issue. Betraying what the title promises, it mostly focuses on Korean phenomena. When the Asian and transnational perspective comes into play, it only tackles Japan-Korea cultural exchange. Nevertheless, this anthology expresses its commitment to connecting Korea with other Asian contexts by providing the substantial analysis of Korean case that could potentially illuminate similar social changes undergoing in other Asian countries. Yes, it is true that what we learn from early examples could light up the following discussions yet it would only be the beginning step of what we expect from future comparative researches.