Educating for digital futures : what the learning strategies of digital content professionals can teach higher education

Beginning in the second half of the 20th century, ICTs transformed many societies from industrial societies in which manufacturing was the central focus, into knowledge societies in which dealing effectively with data and information has become a central element of work (Anderson, 2008). To meet the needs of the knowledge society, universities must reinvent their structures and processes, their curricula and pedagogic practices. In addition to this, of course higher education is itself subject to the sweeping influence of ICTs. But what might effective higher education look like in the 21st century? In designing higher education systems and learning experiences which are responsive to the learning needs of the future and exploit the possibilities offered by ICTs, we can learn much from the existing professional development strategies of people who are already successful in 21st century fields, such as digital media. In this study, I ask: (1) what are the learning challenges faced by digital media professionals in the 21st century? (2) what are the various roles of formal and informal education in their professional learning strategies at present? (3) how do they prefer to acquire needed capabilities? In-depth interviews were undertaken with successful Australian digital media professionals working in micro businesses and SMEs to answer these questions. The strongest thematic grouping that emerged from the interviews related to the need for continual learning and relearning because of the sheer rate of change in the digital media industries. Four dialectical relationships became apparent from the interviewees’ commentaries around the learning imperatives arising out of the immense and continual changes occurring in the digital content industries: (1) currency vs best practice (2) diversification vs specialisation of products and services (3) creative outputs vs commercial outcomes (4) more learning opportunities vs less opportunity to learn. These findings point to the importance of ‘learning how to learn’ as a 21st century capability. The interviewees were ambivalent about university courses as preparation for professional life in their fields. Higher education was described by several interviewees as having relatively little value-add beyond what one described as “really expensive credentialling services.” For all interviewees in this study, informal learning strategies were the preferred methods of acquiring the majority of knowledge and skills, both for ongoing and initial professional development. Informal learning has no ‘curriculum’ per se, and tends to be opportunistic, unstructured, pedagogically agile and far more self-directed than formal learning (Eraut, 2004). In an industry impacted by constant change, informal learning is clearly both essential and ubiquitous. Inspired by the professional development strategies of the digital media professionals in this study, I propose a 21st century model of the university as a broad, open learning ecology, which also includes industry, professionals, users, and university researchers. If created and managed appropriately, the university learning network becomes the conduit and knowledge integrator for the latest research and industry trends, which students and professionals alike can access as needed.

Circles of care : should community development redefine the practice of palliative care?

Specialist palliative care, within hospices in particular, has historically led and set the standard for caring for patients at end of life. The focus of this care has been mostly for patients with cancer. More recently, health and social care services have been developing equality of care for all patients approaching end of life. This has mostly been done in the context of a service delivery approach to care whereby services have become increasingly expert in identifying health and social care need and meeting this need with professional services. This model of patient centred care, with the impeccable assessment and treatment of physical, social, psychological and spiritual need, predominantly worked very well for the latter part of the 20th century. Over the last 13 years, however, there have been several international examples of community development approaches to end of life care. The patient centred model of care has limitations when there is a fundamental lack of integrated community policy, development and resourcing. Within this article, we propose a model of care which identifies a person with an illness at the centre of a network which includes inner and outer networks, communities and service delivery organisations. All of these are underpinned by policy development, supporting the overall structure. Adoption of this model would allow individuals, communities, service delivery organisations and policy makers to work together to provide end of life care that enhances value and meaning for people at end of life, both patients and communities alike.

'You can name her' : ritualised grieving by an Australian woman for her stillborn twin

The stillbirth of an Australian infant in the mid-20th Century was an event often left unacknowledged. Mothers of stillborn babies were often told to 'forget about it and have another baby.' Siblings of these babies were often not encouraged to discuss them, and were even left unaware of their birth and death. This paper explores this phenomenon in an Australian case study. When Nancy was born in 1937, her twin sister was stillborn. As was customary at that time, the deceased baby was buried unnamed in an unmarked plot without ceremony. Little was said of her thereafter. Seventy-three years later, Nancy finally undertook a number of activities with ritualised features that acknowledged, named, mourned and honoured her sister.

Experimental creative practices

From the earliest human creative expressions there has been a relationship between art, technology and science. In Western history this relationship is often seen as drawing from the advances in both art and science that occurred during the Renaissance, and as captured in the polymath figure of da Vinci. The 20th century development of computer technology, and the more recent emergence of creative practice-led research as a recognised methodology, has lead to a renewed appreciation of the relationship between art, science and technology. This chapter focuses on transdisciplinary practices that bring together arts, science and technology in imaginative ways. Showing how such combinations have led to changes in both practice and forms of creative expression for artists and their partners across disciplines. The aim of this chapter is to sketch an outline of the types of transdisiplinary creative research projects that currently signify best practice in the field, which is done in reference to key literature and exemplars drawn from the Australian context.

Cartographic Strategies of Postmodernity : the Figure of the Map in Contemporary Theory and Fiction

The last fifty years have witnessed the growing pervasiveness of the figure of the map in critical, theoretical, and fictional discourse. References to mapping and cartography are endemic in poststructuralist theory, and, similarly, geographically and culturally diverse authors of twentieth-century fiction seem fixated upon mapping. While the map metaphor has been employed for centuries to highlight issues of textual representation and epistemology, the map metaphor itself has undergone a transformation in the postmodern era. This metamorphosis draws together poststructuralist conceptualizations of epistemology, textuality, cartography, and metaphor, and signals a shift away from modernist preoccupations with temporality and objectivity to a postmodern pragmatics of spatiality and subjectivity. Cartographic Strategies of Postmodernity charts this metamorphosis of cartographic metaphor, and argues that the ongoing reworking of the map metaphor renders it a formative and performative metaphor of postmodernity.

Acoustic, electric and virtual noise : the cultural identity of the guitar

Guitar technology underwent significant changes in the 20th century in the move from acoustic to electric instruments. In the first part of the 21st century, the guitar continues to develop through its interaction with digital technologies. Such changes in guitar technology are usually grounded in what we might call the "cultural identity" of the instrument: that is, the various ways that the guitar is used to enact, influence and challenge sociocultural and musical discourses. Often, these different uses of the guitar can be seen to reflect a conflict between the changing concepts of "noise" and "musical sound."

A History of Popular Indigenous Music

SINCE THE INVENTION OF recording technologies like the phonograph in the late 1800s, Indigenous music has been performed and recorded across Australia for a wide range of audiences. In the early twentieth century, for instance, music was recorded by anthropologists keen to capture the sounds of a culture that was believed to be in rapid decline (Thomas). Individual performers were not considered important in these recordings; their music was produced for scientific posterity rather than popular pleasure. And even though Aboriginal participation in local music festivals, touring vaudeville shows, and community gatherings was well documented throughout the twentieth century, it was not until the 1950s that Indigenous “pop stars” began to sell records for mass consumption(Dunbar-Hall and Gibson). Yet, with the persistence of recording artists like Jimmy Little over the past sixty years, Indigenous musicians have steadily gained prominence in Australia’s mainstream. This has been particularly true of the past twenty years, especially since the Sydney Olympics, where promotional strategies have brought about a new popular pride in musical achievements, based upon a celebrated history of diverse sounds and voices.

Money ruins everything

In the economy of the 21st century, economic and technical innovation is increasingly based on developments that don't rely on economic incentive or public provision. Unlike 20th century innovation, the most important developments in innovation have been driven not by research funded by governments or developed by corporations but by the collaborative interactions of individuals. In most cases, this modality of innovation has not been motivated by economic concerns or the prospect of profit. This raises the possibility of a world in which some of the sectors of the economy particularly the ones dealing with innovation and creativity are driven by social interactions of various kinds, rather than by profit-oriented investment. This Article examines the development of this amateur modality of creative production, and explains how it came to exist. It then deals with why this modality is different from and potentially inconsistent with the typical modalities of production that are at the heart of modern views of innovation policy. It provides a number of policy prescriptions that should be used by governments to recognize the significance of amateur innovation, and to further the development of amateur productivity.

Personal media and wireless cities : towards an urban spatial analysis

For the past decade, at least, varieties of small, hand held networked instruments have appeared on the global scene, selling in record numbers, and being utilized by all manner of persons from the old to the young; children, women, men, the wealthy and the poor and in all countries. Their presences bespeak a radical shift in telecommunications infrastructure and the future of communications. They are particularly visible in urban areas where mobile transmission network infrastructure (3G, 4G, cellular and Wi-Fi) is more established and substantial, options more plentiful, and density of populations more dramatic. These end user products—I phones, cell phones, Blackberries, DSi, DS, IPads, Zooms, and others – of the mobile communications industry are the latest, hottest globalized commodities. At the same time, wirelessness, or the state of being wireless, and therefore capable of taking along one's networks, communicating from unlikely spaces, and navigating with GPS, is a complex social, political and economic communications phenomenon of early 21st century life. This thesis examines the specter of being wireless in cities. It lends the entire idea an experimentally envisioned, historical and planned context wherein personalization of media tools is seen both as a design development of corporate, artistic, and military imagination, as well as a profound social phenomenon enabling new forms of sharing, belonging, and urban community. In doing that it asserts the parameters of a new mobile space which, aside from clear benefits to humankind by way of mobility, has reinscribed numerous categories including gender. Moreover, it posits the recognition of other, more nuanced theoretical spaces for complex readings of gender and gendered use, including some instantiation of the notion of 'network' itself as a cyborgian and gendered social form. Additionally, cities are studied as places where technology is not only quickly popularized, but is connected to larger political interests, such as the reading of data, tracking of information, and the new security culture. In so doing the work has been undertaken as an urban spatial analysis and experimental ethnography, utilizing architectural, feminist, techno-utopian, industrial and theoretical literatures as discursive underpinnings from whence understandings and interpretations of mobile space, the mobile office, networked mobility, and personal media have come, linking the space of cities to specific, pioneering urban public art projects in which voice, texting and MMS have been utilized in expressions of ubiquitous networks and urban history. Through numerous examples of techno art, the thesis discusses the 'wireless city' as an emerging cultural, socially constructed economic and spatial entity, both conceived and formed through historic processes of urbanization.

The Hollywood effect : a comparative study of costume in Australia and the Proposition

This paper compares costuming practices in Baz Luhrmann’s Australia (2008) and John Hillcoat’s The Proposition (2005) and argues that high production values, such as in the blockbuster Australia, are not neutral mechanisms of production, but powerful prescriptive elements which do not result in a successful representation of cultural specificity. Australia is a typical blockbuster, it employs a large number of extras, it features compelling landscape shots, has been shot across four different locations and sets, and, importantly, is an international production with the 20th Century Fox. The film’s costumes were designed by Catherine Martin, who received an Oscar nomination in 2009. While global exposure of fashion in film and through celebrities’ endorsements has consolidated a historical synergy between the fashion industry and Hollywood, the Australian film and fashion industries have had a very limited exchange. Baz Luhrmann’s film is Australia’s first instance of promo-costuming and use of tie-in labels (Ferragamo, R.M.Williams, Prada, Paspaley). Catherine Martin thoroughly researched 1930s women’s wear, indigenous and stockmen’s clothing, and set up to make all costumes with a large team of costumiers and seamstresses, striving for authenticity. The Proposition won its costume designer Margot Wilson an AFI in 2005 for best costume, but compared to Australia the story, location and costumes are far harsher. Filmed around Winton in far west Queensland, the director John Hillcoat and Director of Photography Benoit Delhomme were insistent about realism, and emphasising the harshness of the Australian landscape. The realism of the costumes was derived from the fabrics and manufacturing, as well as the way they were shot, with the actors often wearing two or three layers of heavy wool during days of shooting in 50 degree heat, and the details of making and breaking down. The implication is that both films are culturally specific as they both deal with an Australian story. However, Australia is clearly produced according to a Hollywood blockbuster model, and closely matches Hollywood’s narrative and aesthetic characteristics, while The Proposition is a more modest film that eschews these conventions of beauty and glossed history. Despite its western genre-orientation, The Proposition is more successful than Australia when it comes to costuming, because its costumes are not only functional to the narrative, but, in Roland Barthes’ words, they also fulfil a prestation. This prestation highlights the social and cultural conflicts on which colonial Australia was founded, instead of gilding, and gliding, over them.

Optimism : what it is and its relevance in the school context

"For myself, I am an optimist - it does not seem to be much use to be anything else". Winston Churchill Optimism has its modern roots in philosophy dating back to the 17th century in the writings of philosophers such as Descartes and Voltaire (Domino & Conway, 2001). Previous to these philosophical writings, the concept of optimism was revealed in the teaching of many of the great spiritual traditions such as Buddhism and Christianity (Miller, Richards, & Keller, 2001). In the 20th century, optimism became defined in juxtaposition to pessimism, sometimes conceptualized as a bipolar unidimensional construct and by others as two related but separate constructs (Garber, 2000). Contemporary models (Scheier & Carver, 1985; Seligman, 1991) have increasingly focused on distinguishing optimism-pessimism as a general dispositional orientation, as described by expectancy theory, and as an explanatory process, described by explanatory style theory.

Writing and the disappearance of architecture theory

One of the first architects to write a book was Vitruvius, the Roman architect who published De Architectura in the 1st century BC, a book that would become the foundation for Western Architectural Thought. When I was an undergraduate, the history of architecture was taught via a series of books by architects that were at least, if not more significant than the buildings. From De Architectura to Alberti’s rejoinder De re aedificatoria (On the Art of Building) in the fifteenth century, Palladio’s Quattro Libri (The Four Books of Architecture) 1570, and Laugier’s Essai sur l'Architecture 1753. In the 1990s, we treasured the heroic architecture books of the 20th century from Le Corbusier, Vers une Architecture, to Aldo Rossi’s the Architecture of the City, Rem Koolhaas’s Delirious New York, and of course Robert Venturi’s Learning from Las Vegas which for me was the very starting point for the postmodern movement.

Genetic bottlenecks in time and space: reconstructing invasions from contemporary and historical collections

Herbarium accession data offer a useful historical botanical perspective and have been used to track the spread of plant invasions through time and space. Nevertheless, few studies have utilised this resource for genetic analysis to reconstruct a more complete picture of historical invasion dynamics, including the occurrence of separate introduction events. In this study, we combined nuclear and chloroplast microsatellite analyses of contemporary and historical collections of Senecio madagascariensis, a globally invasive weed first introduced to Australia c. 1918 from its native South Africa. Analysis of nuclear microsatellites, together with temporal spread data and simulations of herbarium voucher sampling, revealed distinct introductions to south-eastern Australia and mid-eastern Australia. Genetic diversity of the south-eastern invasive population was lower than in the native range, but higher than in the mid-eastern invasion. In the invasive range, despite its low resolution, our chloroplast microsatellite data revealed the occurrence of new haplotypes over time, probably as the result of subsequent introduction(s) to Australia from the native range during the latter half of the 20th century. Our work demonstrates how molecular studies of contemporary and historical field collections can be combined to reconstruct a more complete picture of the invasion history of introduced taxa. Further, our study indicates that a survey of contemporary samples only (as undertaken for the majority of invasive species studies) would be insufficient to identify potential source populations and occurrence of multiple introductions.

New pleasures and old dangers: reinventing male sex work

Understandings of male sex workers (MSWs) shift with technological, conceptual, and social changes. Research has historically constructed MSWs as psychologically unstable, desperate, or destitute victims and their clients as socially deviant perverts. These perceptions, however, are no longer supported by contemporary research and changing societal perceptions of the sex industry, challenging how we understand and describe “escorts.” The changing understandings of sexuality and the increasing power of the Internet are both important forces behind recent changes in the structure and organization of MSWs. The growth in the visibility and reach of escorts has created opportunities to form an occupational account of MSWs that better accounts for the dynamic and diverse nature of the MSW experience in the early 21st century. Recent changes in the structure and organization of male sex work have provided visibility to the increasingly diverse geographical distribution of MSW, the commodification of race and racialized desire, new populations of heterosexual men and women as clients, and the successful dissemination of safer sexual messages to MSWs through online channels. This article provides a broad overview of the literature on MSWs, concentrating its focus on studies that have emerged over the past 20 years and identifying areas for future research.

On the relevance of travel journalism : An introduction

Not many people will be instantly familiar with British woman Dale Sheppard-Floyd, but – at least symbolically – she represents a significant milestone in the development of travel and tourism. In fact, the milestone was so significant that the United Nations World Tourism Organization booked Madrid’s venerable Museo del Prado to announce to the world’s media her visit to Spain on 13 December 2012. For Ms Sheppard-Floyd’s arrival for a three-day trip meant that more than one billion times in that year, someone had crossed a border as a tourist. An astounding number, considering that, in 1950, there had been only 25 million tourist arrivals worldwide, and even only two decades previously – in 1990 – the number had been less than half at 435 million arrivals (World Tourism Organization, 2012a, 2012b). While people have traveled for pleasure for millennia (Towner, 1995), tourism really came into its own with the expansion of the middle classes in the 19th and 20th century, and today it is considered the world’s largest business sector, with unprecedented numbers of people venturing outside of their immediate environments to explore the world around them. In 2012, travel and tourism’s total contribution to the world economy amounted to a staggering $6.6 trillion, or 9 per cent of GDP (World Travel & Tourism Council, 2013). More than 260 million jobs were generated by it worldwide, which equates to one in every 11 jobs across the globe. While there were some hiccups during the Global Financial Crisis, growth in 2012 was stronger than in other industries, such as manufacturing, financial services and retail (World Travel & Tourism Council, 2013)...