reveals images of
its social structure, or “social network”
(Scott, 1991).
Each i-ball has the built-in ability to store its
own path as it
moves from person to person, and to report this
path back to a
central server every time its host i-socket
comes in contact
with a PC. Participants can then access this
data through a
suite of visualizations we designed to
illuminate
relevant community dynamics.
Figure 7 shows a
type of visualization that reveals how a
particular i-ball
moved through the school population. Each
node is a person,
labeled with their first name and grade. The
creator of the
i-ball is the root node. Each link represents an
exact copy of the
i-ball that was given from the person above
to the person
below (for details on the color scheme, see
below). The tool
was designed so that students could pull up
a visualization
of this sort for any i-ball they currently had on
their i-socket,
or for any i-ball they created.
Students’
immediate reaction to these types of diagrams was
fascination.
Because many of the computers at the school
were quite slow
at creating these images, we printed several
poster-sized
versions of them for popular i-balls. When a new
one was put up,
kids would swarm around it, first trying to
locate themselves
on this representation of their social terrain,
and then looking
to see how their friends and classmates were
tied in. There
was a sense of excitement around this
privileged view
these students were getting of a geometry
they always
sensed, but could never before directly
apprehend. And
this geometry was personal: we observed one
girl become quite
upset when she could not find herself on a
chart for an
i-ball she was sure she had received.
Some kids, on
further reflection, were able to make more
sophisticated
interpretations of the visualizations. One sixth-
grade boy
carefully explained to us that you couldn't tell how
cool an i-ball
was just by how many people got it. Instead,
you had to look
at the pattern of how the i-ball moved. If the
author gave the
i-ball to a number of people, that was much
less cool than if
he gave it to a few people, and they gave it to
a few people,
etc. We saw in this the seeds of a more
sophisticated
model of that ubiquitous and problematic
adolescent
concept of “popularity".
We witnessed
several occasions where viewing these
visualizations
helped students surface powerful
misconceptions.
For example, one girl, when viewing a list of
who had gotten a
copy of an i-ball she authored, exclaimed,
“How did she get
a copy of my i-ball? I didn't give it to her. I
don't like her!”
Only after viewing the i-ball movement tree
did she realize
that a friend of hers gave it to this other girl,
and that it
wasn't just about who she gave her i-ball to
directly. The
notion that she could be linked to an enemy
through a friend
was unsettling to her.
One of the most
interesting “ahas” came after a third grade
class viewed a
visualization of how one of their favorite i-
balls had spread.
Someone in the class had made an i-ball
version of the
class mascot: a bunny named Shadow. They
felt this i-ball
was very popular and asked several times for a
poster-sized
printout of how it traveled through the school.
When we brought
it to their class, however, they were
disappointed.
The
visualization revealed that while most of the third-grade
had gotten a
copy of the Shadow i-ball, it had not spread
much beyond
that. After a long discussion, it became
increasingly
clear that the third grade had come to believe
that because
everyone in the class had seen Shadow, many in
the school
probably had as well. This led to some interesting
conversation
about the limits of generalizing what is true
about your
close-knit group to what is true about the larger
population.
Ordinarily, of
course, the mistaken beliefs of the third graders
are
self-sealing. People’s folklore universe is determined by
whom they
interact with, and there is no way of getting
outside this
universe to test the limits of it. Phenomena like
insularity are
notoriously hard to see from the inside. The i-
ball
visualizations provide a potential way out, however.
With them, kids
could begin to see how the structure of their
social networks
informed their view of the world.
Our original
version of the type of graph depicted in Figure 7
was not
“colorized”. Instead, students had to study the text in
each node to
discover the characteristics of the person it
represented, and
then look for patterns in how these nodes
were connected.
In an effort to make community interaction
patterns “pop
out” at the viewer, we added the colorizing
functionality.
For example, the visualizations in Figures 7 and
8 make gender
and grade insularity easily discernable by
colorizing the
nodes according to these attributes. People
tended to pass
the “Romance” i-ball to others of the same
gender and in
the same grade. Interestingly, Figure 9 reveals
no comparable
insularity with respect to ethnicity.
Kids have a
natural interest in probing the social network that
binds them
together. We see this in some traditional folk
games that
involve simpler forms of the kind of tracking we
built into the
i-balls. For example, kids write chain letters in
hopes of
receiving back postcards that signify their
connection to
children all over the world. Unfortunately, this
feedback channel
is very brittle, and the postcards almost
never arrive.
In an effort to
make the feedback more reliable, kids play the
game of
“Telephone” while sitting around a table. One person
whispers
something to his neighbor, who then repeats it to her
neighbor, and so
on until the message has gone all the way
around the
table. At this point, the last person and the first
person say what
they believe the message to be, and
everybody laughs
at how it was transformed by the oral
process. What is
Telephone if not a tabletop experiment
designed by kids
to explore their own oral culture? I-balls let
kids move these
experiments off the tabletop and into the
wild, where folk
culture really lives.