I leapt into social media faster than I fell into feminism.
Hello feminism: I tentatively introduced myself to feminist thought during graduate coursework in women’s studies. I shook hands, then sat back and nodded. I listened. I asked a lot of questions. But, my voice was quiet, tentative.
What’s up social media?: I sat in the trampled grass at Pitchfork music festival in Chicago talking with a friend. In the 90 degree heat and humidity she chatted about why she liked twitter. I eagerly peppered her with questions–about the tech aspect, privacy, content, and connection. I returned home and washed the adventure off, then slid back into my folded position at the computer. I created a twitter account and dove in.
Meeting my feminist self on twitter. I became @janellbauer. I followed @Jezebel, @MsMagazine… added @JessicaValenti, @femmonomics, @womenactmedia, @feministing … followed Bitch and Bust and the list grew. I tweeted something about women in film and @bitchflicks responded – we connected. Everyday I was reading about issues happening right now, issues affecting women and men in ways we don’t dare to recognize. I read snarkey headlines about politics, media, the internet. I skimmed #longreads in the Atlantic and found myself retweeting #mustreads and editing my 160 character profile to include “feminist” as core to my (online) identity. And so it went as I found my feminist politics and my feminist voice 140 characters at a time.
Signing up to oversee bloggers for Shout Out JMU!, the feminist blog on our campus, has been a valuable next step in developing my own feminist consciousness at the intersection of academics, social media, third wave controversies, consciousness raising and living my politics. I believe in digital as a space of opportunity where feminists (new and seasoned) can engage with one another–where we can share and discover new perspectives and shake (virtual) hands with strangers who can become mentors and allies. The key is to learn the #rulesofengagement so you can join in diverse and inspiring conversations about feminisms.
What was your introduction to digital? Has digital created opportunities for you to discover or develop your feminism?
Great questions! I think I have had the tendency to either jump in with no reflexivity (like Facebook several years ago–within a day I had connected to folks from my kindergarten class to family members I hadn’t seen or heard from since I was a kid) OR I slog through orienting myself to a new online mode–like Twitter. I LOVE that you mentioned Pitchfork because for the most part I have embraced a lot of digital communities because of music–best music conversations, best inside info, and the best access to the indie music scene.
I really love this post! I can really feel the tensions of voice in the face-to-face classroom contexts liberated and transformed in the digital landscape. Your writing also helps me to see and feel the character and pace of tweeting for feminism, while developing identity! It seems to me that media that can empower our voices deserve our serious attention! What is particularly cool to me is your comfort and development in those spaces that really have enabled you to develop and continue define your feminist identity – I’ve admired your ability to teach the Shout Out! writers how to use these digital spaces to reach a broader audience and to engage more people. Since my only “non-academic’ job was at a multi-media company developing cutting edge interactive media, I have been both comfortable in technological/digital spaces and simultaneously wary of their ephemeral (and interestingly, permanent) nature. By ephemeral I mean that technologies and digital platforms come and go, they are fade-like and are replaced by new and better media. Yet, I also simultaneously worry about the permanence of my digital footprint – how does crafting my identity in online and public spaces reify my words, fix my identity in an online spaces – something I can always go back to and something others can bring back to me. Am I allowed to change without seeming contrary and fickle? Does my identity have to develop in a neat linear sequence of collected information and shared stories? I have the same worries about publishing personal narratives though – but perhaps that is for another time and place. I am more careful in my use of digital spaces for communicating – very intentional. I often start to write, then hit cancel – wondering if I want to commit. I find that to be inhibiting, but in other ways more contemplative. I take less risks than I do in a face-to-face encounters where my own memory and forgetting are held in tension. . .
Melissa, thanks for the support. I really appreciate you raising the issue of permanency and the pressure of creating an online legacy that we may well be held accountable for. I’ve been reflecting on this and an experience from college keeps coming back to me.
Back at UOP: When I was a freshman I was still pretty shy. I wasn’t the girl who dropped by neighbors’ rooms, I didn’t introduce myself in the bathroom or stop to offer a quick hello to others moving in. I was passive in making connections and sharing of myself with others. My sophomore year I became an RA and THERE I WAS at the beginning of the semester chatting up unknown students and parents. I helped unload boxes, wandered into rooms, introduced myself to everyone I saw. It was my job.
Shout Out JMU!: When I first started to read Shout Out JMU! I loved the posts. I was constantly thinking about students’ statements and ideas. I had lots of opinions of my own. But, I didn’t comment. I had all kinds of reservations: what about my academic identity? what if i don’t get feminism right? what if i hurt a young feminists feelings? what if i make a statement that is “so second wave”? what if … the list of fears circled around my academic identity and muffled my voice like a scarf wound too tight. Then I took on co-direction of the blog, and THERE I WAS adjusting the syllabus to add more digital outreach, tweeting, commenting, posting, and, as you said, *becoming*. It was my job.
I wonder if some of the fears that constrain our face-to-face interactions blur into the digital space. Perhaps, but maybe the mechanisms for moving past them are similar as well.