Embracing Electronic Escapism

Hey, how are you?

No, but really, how are you? Take a minute to meditate on it.
Close your eyes and feel your body on your seat or the ground. Notice any sensations.
Seriously, stop reading this and really experience how you are doing in this moment.

Notice any emotions that came up just then. Do you feel calm? anxious? sad? excited?

When someone texts you, Facebook messages you, or some other form of electronic communication, you have time to meditate on your response. You can ruminate on your ideas, spellcheck your messages, take your time formulating exactly what you mean and just want you want to get across. Not to mention, if you are feeling down, you can express that without the worry of your cracking voice being heard or teary, flushed face being seen.

"How are you?" has become a common greeting, casual conversation starter, and a quick check-in. But how often do we answer honestly? With whom? Through what medium?

Would you say "fine" on the phone to your mom, but then spill thrilling secrets to your best friend in person? Would you say "good" to your professor, but then complain about all of your stress and worries to your roommate later?

I started thinking about this because this has been an especially challenging week for me. I had some dramatic turn of events take place in my personal life that left me feeling incredibly vulnerable and emotionally on edge. I had to miss some class, and didn't even feel comfortable enough to eat in the dining hall. I didn't want to be around people. I didn't want to be asked "How are you?" casually, because I didn't want to lie, and I didn't think I could talk about my feelings at all without completely breaking down.

I isolated myself in my room and opened up to my roommate. We watched a funny movie together and it allowed me to take my mind off things.
When he couldn't be there, I texted a friend in another state. I was able to articulate to her my feelings and get support without leaving the comfort of my secluded cave.
I spent some time with close friends who gave me hugs and wise words.
I called my mom. I could vent to her and get reassurance from hundreds of miles away.
I turned to tumblr for inspiring stories and advice, and strangers uplifted me from across the globe.
After sometime I felt grounded and confident enough to go back into the embodied world.

Interestingly, the week before this, we talked about social support in my Interpersonal Media class. In class, we made a list of people in our lives who we exchange support with, and noted if we communicate with them face to face, or virtually. Almost everyone on my list fit in both categories; whether they were near or far, I had exchanged support with them via technology and IRL. Through this exercise, I started to realize that technology truly supplements rather than than replaces communication with those I am close with. My virtual identity is not separate from who I am, it is an extension of me. Because of my social networks online, I feel connected and know that there is information, advice, and inspiration out there constantly.

Some people argue that we are becoming more individualistic and isolated due to being glued to our smart phones and laptops. I'm not going to dismiss this idea. I am all for being present, and engaging with the senses. I don't think a virtual hug can compare to a physical one at all. I think that it is important to engage with the people near to us, and to not allow ourselves to be distracted and numbed by our ability to be constantly plugged in. But when we need a little escape, when we need some love from afar, when we can't pull it together and face the world-- I think it is pretty dang incredible that we don't have to be alone. Technology doesn't have to be isolating. This week, it greatly contributed to my healing. It's just a matter of doing so mindfully. I'm learning that the world is at my fingertips-- and it's incredibly empowering.

Twitter's #HowIWouldQuit in Conjunction With Online Community

While exploring Twitter, I came across the trending #HowIWouldQuit, started by @midnight (a late night game show that I actually know nothing about). Essentially, they tweeted their followers and asked them to tweet back funny posts sharing "dream ways to bail on evil jobs". I scrolled through all of the posts, and thought many were absolutely hilarious (see below), but of course, I also started to think about them from a deeper (academic) perspective . . . 

. . . In my Interpersonal Media class, we focused on the idea of community this week. We talked about ways in which physical, embodied communities are similar and different to online communities. I touched on some of these ideas in my last blog post, asserting that online communities certainly can provide love and support, especially in hard times. This idea was reinforced by some of the readings we did for class, such as this article about the therapeutic benefits of blogging, including positive comments from readers (hint, hint). This idea was also challenged though, such as in this article about a woman who moved out of her town due to online gossip and bullying on the website Topix. Reading through the Topix page for my hometown, Felton, I witnessed adults engaging in similar behavior-- ridiculing members of the community in rather derogatory ways. 

How does this relate to #HowIWouldQuit? Well, while scrolling through the funny posts on Twitter, I felt like a lot of these silly quitting fantasies were backed by some serious disdain for their mundane, challenging, frustrating jobs. I then started thinking about how the workplace is clearly shifting because of increased use and uses of technology. More and more opportunities are opening up for people to tweet, advertise, network, sell online, work from home--all online and all for a living! Are these people tweeting about quitting? Are online work communities more harsh and competitive, or supportive and collaborative? 

As I go through my education, the more and more technology is implemented into my classes. In elementary school, I had set class time where we would play typing games on the computer to increase our accuracy and speed.

 

In high school, we would bring laptops into the classroom to conduct research and work on group projects. Students would share Google documents with our study guides to share information and help each other before tests. In college, not only do I use an online site called Moodle to get all of my homework and assignment information for most of my classes, but I've written huge group research papers without consulting each other hardly at ALL in person! This semester, once a week my Interpersonal Media class meets online in small groups to chat and collaborate on various assignments through GoogleDocs. 

Working online for school has allowed for greater ease in sharing and acquiring important information, but it is also really challenging to convey ideas and compromise and synthesize ideas with other people. I often find myself feeling rushed, confused, and unable to articulate complex ideas and questions I am having. I also find that I don't bond with my group members beyond the task at hand much. If I see them in person, I might make some comment about the assignment, but I don't feel especially close to the group as a whole (compared to other groups I've done class projects with, who I become close friends through working with physically).

I suppose what I am getting at, is that I think that technology appears to be the way of work for the future, at least the path that I am on. I think that my generation is heading towards an increasing amount of job opportunities involving electronic communication skills (see here for some research on the topic). Honestly, I am both skeptical and excited about the prospect of working with electronic communication and media in my future. 

I suppose #HowIWouldQuit then, would be to #unplug. 

~*things to ponder and share*~ 

Do you hate/love your job and why? Does your current job/role require much online communication? Do you see yourself working online in the future? What experiences have you had working with an online community? How would YOU quit? ;) 

From Birth to Death: Blurring Lines of Public & Private on Facebook

I moved on from being a teenager this Monday. It was a really heart warming birthday. I celebrated with my friends by having a pasta potluck party. There were about 17 of us all congregated in the little kitchen of my dorm hall. We talked, made music, cooked together, and shared in celebration. When it neared dessert time, my friend Caroline chimed us to silence with a fork to her mug of pasta, cleared her throat, and announced that everyone should go around and say their favorite memory of a time with me. It nearly brought me to tears to hear stories I had forgotten about, descriptions of college friends’ first time meeting me, and recollections of some serious shared experiences. I felt so much love, and so much gratitude for such thoughtful people in my life.

                  On my birthday, I also received many text messages, Facebook messages & wall posts, and Instagram posts & comments. And by many, I mean well over a hundred. It was nice to have electronic communication to be able to receive birthday wishes from friends and family back home in California, and all around the world.

This is normal these days! Usually when a friend of mine on social media has a birthday, their wall is filled with a huge influx of birthday posts, because Facebook notifies us of our friends’ birthdays. These posts made me very happy, and were much appreciated, but (probably because of my critical eye toward interpersonal communication right now) I can’t help but question if the majority were posted out of some sort of implicit social media code, implying obligatory birthday-wall-commentary. Good portions of birthday wishes on Facebook are simply a “happy birthday” on the person's wall, with nothing else. For me, these were from high school acquaintances or people I know on campus at L&C, but not too well. 

Contrastingly, some close friends would post more detailed wishes for me, post pictures of us, or write about things they value in me. The posts that were special and tailored to me made me feel so loved, similarly to the feeling I got face to face with my friends at the pasta party.

                  By analyzing how people communicated with me on my birthday, I began to question a concept that we discussed in class a couple of weeks ago, inspired by Nancy Baym: today there is a fine line between interpersonal communication (between two or a few known persons) and mass communication. Social media sites, like Facebook, can be used for both, and often blend both by intermingling private and public conversation. For example, all of my birthday posts were directed to me, but because there is a custom of doing wall posts-- all of my friends could see all of these expressed sentiments. Birthdays aren’t the only time this happens though.

Last year, my community at home experienced two shocking and devastating deaths. Two boys I went to high school with died in separate accidents a few months a part. I found out about them through Facebook. There is a unique, modern cultural mourning process that I have witnessed in these two instances, and more: their loved ones use the Internet to continue talking to the deceased. In the case of the two boys from my high school, not only did I find out about their passing via the Internet, but I also learned how it all happened as the stories and relationships of their life unfolded publicly. Friends and family would post daily, saying such kind, real, emotional, raw things to the deceased via their Facebook, as if they could read it. Some very intimate memories were shared; open expressions of grief and despair paralleled with silly memories on their Facebook walls. Friends and family commented on each other’s posts thanking them for sharing and wishing each other strength and support. At one point, Facebook was used to raise money for the family of the deceased and organize a memorial service.

Witnessing this congregation of community online after horrible tragedy was both inspiring, and perplexing. The support and emotional release I saw was beautiful, but I couldn’t help but feel almost intrusively voyeuristic reading into their relationships. I then started to feel disheartened about their digital world forever lingering on at our disposal; their profile picture never changing again, their last status being their final post. Looking at their profiles can still bring me to tears. 

The lines of public and private have really blurred in the modern age. Considering the celebration of birth, the coping with death, and even just making plans with friends-- so much of this is done on the Facebook “wall,” which does belong to an individual, but is public to all. Are we posting for the person or for the people watching? Is it exposing or liberating to bring up really intimate details in this way? Why do we feel compelled to address friends, both alive and deceased, about personal matters in a public way?

All of this said, I’m big on wall posts; I almost always post to friends’ walls on their birthday, or make an Instagram post with a silly old picture of them and a list of things I love about them. It’s fun. It makes us feel special and loved to be in the virtual spotlight. I think that reflecting on my birthday and my experience of losing acquaintances has reminded me that it is powerful and important to spread positivity and kindness via technology, in a way that brings people together and reminds us of our worth and our humanity. I also feel prompted to make sure my messages are crafted in a way that is mindful of all who will potentially see them. We have powerful social tools at our fingertips; I am inspired to make online interaction more meaningful.

Have you had similar experiences of witnessing very personal online interactions that you weren't a part of? Have you dealt with loss through mourning online? Do you love or disdain Facebook birthday posts? 

Can an Aura be Liked, Tweeted, or Reblogged?

"The 'aura' of tangible art provides much of its value, a value lessened in the age of mechanical reproduction"

-Walter Benjamin quoted in NancyBaym’s Personal Connections in the Digital Age (p.30)

Is Walter Benjamin onto something? Is there some part of us that can never be captured by modern technology? A part of us that should refuse? 

I found the awesome collage, “Park iLife” (featured at the top of my blog), on a website/art blog, Hang-Up, that featured the artist, Joe Webb. They wrote a small article about his work called “The Power of Collage”. In it, he says:

“I started making collages as a sort of luddite reaction to working on computer for years. I like the limitations of it... using found imagery and a pair of scissors, there's no Googling for material or Photoshop to resize, adjust or undo. There is an element of serendipity in finding images that work together that can't be replicated in the digital world.”

Ironic, isn’t it? That I found his art online, and that now his art is featured on my blog? In my own life, I do a lot of my expression on and off the web. As a poet, I almost always start by putting pen to paper, and then eventually translate a piece to the computer to edit or share. I also journal, draw, and collage-- all in my sturdy journal (that goes more places with me than my laptop does). But even though I create in a non-digital way, I often share my creations digitally, be it a photo on Instagram, or a scanned image on Tumblr.

It is interesting though, how the act of creating hard-copy art and reproducing it on the computer is sort of analogous to the art of creating identity and translating it through digital media. Or is it more complex than that? Does identity also get formed through using technology?   

Reflecting on my childhood (growing up with the internet), has made realize that I strongly identify with having "multiple selves". And this goes beyond having a divide between my "in real life (IRL) self" and my "virtual self". I feel as if I take on a different persona through each different electronic platform I engage with. Are these personas devoid of my IRL “aura”?

When I dig into my digital past (similar to supernovagirl95's awesome post "Post Google Anxiety"), I find embarrassing YouTube videos I made in middle school, including awkward music videos and this ridiculous gem: "I EAT MY FRIENDS" (we were bored, ok?). I also find the creative "Bracelet Girls" videos my friends and I made, where we went around downtown Santa Cruz giving away free bracelets and interviewed strangers about their New Year's Resolutions in the process.

I suppose it only makes sense now that currently I am studying Rhetoric & Media and have a Vimeo Account that serves for both creative personal projects and academic ones, like "Green", a stop motion film I made last semester about environmental consumerism. And in addition to this media blog, I update a personal academic website, "Metanoia" with a lot of material from my other classes. 

My point in sharing this collection of digital Ajna with you, is to reflect the many different aspects of myself that I channel and develop over the web. I currently also participate in social media. As I previously mentioned, I use Facebook & Instagram. Unlike my crazy kid YouTube days, now when I use online platforms, I always feel very hyper aware that I am communicating through a mass medium. My posts tend to include some photography, small updates on life events, and cool/important stuff I find on the Internet. But I definitely filter myself knowing that family, peers, old friends, new friends friends of friends, etc. will be watching. My persona face-to-face or on more private platforms (like Snapchat or texting) is much more silly, emotional, daring, and unfiltered—because I’m usually communicating only with people I am very close with and I am not worrying about my "image".

Clearly, as a teen, spending time making YouTube videos contributed to my ability to make academic ones later down the road. In the digital world, there are spaces for academic Ajna. Spaces for comedic Ajna. Spaces for college-student-having-fun-but-not-too-much-fun Ajna. Reflecting on all these platforms makes me feel a bit anxious over what or which identity is the "real" me.

Ah, and just as I start to approach the sounds of an existential crisis, I am calmed by recalling Nancy Baym's words: "Authentic self representation is not always a simple question of true and false" (34). Yes. Yes, indeed, there doesn't have to be a "real" me versus a fragmented-digital-array of questionable personas. Can an Aura be Liked, Tweeted, or Reblogged? The human spirit is dynamic, and very well may be inhabiting more than just bodies these days. My life is a multi-media collage.