- Jul 16, 2025
Digital Kinship: Why Technology Isn’t Neutral — and What Educators Are Already Doing Right
- Lanise Block
- 0 comments
In classrooms and schools across the country, educators are making thoughtful, creative choices every day about how they integrate technology. They are curating tools that spark student engagement, designing digital learning spaces with intention, and striving to meet students where they are. This work is not easy, and many leaders deserve more recognition for how far they’ve already come in using technology to enhance learning while honoring students' identities.
And yet, even as we celebrate these efforts, a deeper challenge persists: the assumption that technology itself is neutral. That the tools we adopt are just "platforms" or "solutions" without embedded values, histories, or cultural assumptions. This belief—however unintentional—can limit how fully we understand the impact of our digital choices on equity and belonging.
This is where Digital Kinship, a framework we use at Lift.ED Consulting offers an invitation to think differently. Digital Kinship asks us not just to use tech tools effectively, but to ask:
Who was this tool designed for?
Whose ways of knowing, learning, and being does it reflect—and
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Whose does it leave out?
It challenges the myth of neutrality and reframes digital integration as an opportunity for cultural responsiveness and relational care.
At Lift.ED, we anchor Digital Kinship in five guiding pillars:
Digital Dissemination,
Reflection and Response,
Interpret and Imagine,
Action and Activism,
Homage to Heritage.
Together, these pillars remind us that our choices about digital tools and practices are always cultural choices—choices that can either reinforce or disrupt the conditions our students and communities experience. Each pillar invites educators to reflect deeply, act intentionally, and design with care. While this post only scratches the surface, these pillars provide a pathway for leaders ready to deepen their practice.
Importantly, many educators are already practicing Digital Kinship—sometimes without naming it. When a teacher adapts an online platform to include students’ home languages, they are practicing Digital Kinship. When a school leader centers community voices in selecting a learning management system, they are practicing Digital Kinship. When an instructional coach works with teachers to curate culturally relevant media resources, they are practicing Digital Kinship.
These acts matter because technology, by its very design, carries assumptions about what counts as knowledge, how communication happens, and what "good learning" looks like. Without reflection, even well-intentioned tech adoption can inadvertently reinforce dominant cultural norms while excluding others.
But when we see ourselves as stewards of Digital Kinship, we can move beyond mere implementation. We can foster digital learning environments where tools serve as bridges, not barriers—where every student sees their culture, identity, and lived experience reflected and affirmed.
The work is already underway. The challenge now is to deepen it, name it, and lead it with intention.
How might your next technology decision reflect not just functionality or cost, but care, community, and cultural relevance?
That is the promise of Digital Kinship—and many educators are already showing us the way.