When you visit some adult education centers around the nation, you may notice something unexpected on the desks: little laminated cards with names like Foucault, Chomsky, or Habermas printed on them. These cards resemble sports collectibles. They are being exchanged between hands, shuffled, and discussed. These aren’t kids having fun. These adult immigrants are learning to think critically about the information world they’ve entered, and many of them are navigating the U.S. legal system.
The combination of media theory and immigration education may seem strange. However, teachers who have implemented David Gauntlett’s Theory Trading Cards in their classrooms report that the fit is more organic than anyone could have predicted. A thinker’s core beliefs, strengths, and shortcomings are listed on each card. It may seem insignificant, but that final section is crucial. Almost unintentionally, students are being asked to assess concepts rather than merely absorb them.

The format has an almost disarming quality. It doesn’t feel like a lecture when a card is laminated. It doesn’t cause the defensiveness that can occasionally accompany formal education, particularly in students who have spent years in political, bureaucratic, or educational systems that prioritized compliance over questioning. The card simply waits to be picked up.
The timing is not accidental. Teachers who work with immigrant populations have been watching with increasing concern as their students come across the full chaos of American social media: false information about immigration policy, conspiracy theories about government agencies and courts, and viral videos that have the aesthetic authority of journalism without any accountability. 82% of middle school students were unable to differentiate between an online advertisement and a news story, according to research cited by the American Psychological Association. Adult learners encounter a more difficult version of the same problem because they come from media ecosystems that frequently differ greatly from American platforms.
Overuse has worn down the term “critical thinking.” Teachers say it all the time. However, advocating for it and actually creating an environment in the classroom where it can occur are two different things. The trading card model appears to create a framework where disagreement feels safe, though it’s still unclear if this holds true in various classroom settings. Chomsky’s argument on a card can be contested in the same manner as a chess move. It’s allowed. Even so, it’s the point.
Teachers who use the cards frequently mention that students begin to apply the same evaluative instinct to sources outside of the classroom. Unprompted, they start inquiring as to who is making a claim, what their shortcomings might be, and what they might be omitting. When students already have a habit of examining concepts from several perspectives, lateral reading—the practice of determining the reliability of a source by looking elsewhere rather than delving deeper into the same site—develops more organically.
It’s difficult to ignore how much this reflects larger discussions currently taking place in educational policy. At least twenty-one state legislatures in the United States have proposed media and information literacy reforms. Illinois, California, and New Jersey are all attempting to incorporate this way of thinking into school curricula from the ground up. With much less fanfare, the trading card model is doing something similar by sneaking into immigration classrooms.
The question of whether it scales is legitimate. The teachers who use these tools, who recognize that critical thinking is a habit you model, reward, and practice until it begins to feel natural, are partly responsible for their effectiveness. The cards are useful. However, the space in which they are utilized is equally important.
