Beyond a doubt, this class has opened my eyes to a myriad of new ideas and theories about the internet, technology, and how we use it. The research we have read has debunked some misgivings, and confirmed some suspicions. Still, as I have thought through these ideas, I have been unable to escape the fact that, as technology changes, so will many of these ideas. In forty years, although some of the research will likely apply to the technology we use then, some of it will become obsolete. So, the question I have asked myself is, “What is the truly lasting take-away I will have from this class?”

Too often, I think we define “learning” as the practice of simply ingesting information—storing statistics and facts. However, this course has taught me that, when it comes to how I think about the internet and other innovations, it’s my perspective that truly matters. That’s not to say that the things we’ve learned about who uses these technologies and why don’t provide invaluable perspective.  However, as we begin to understand ourselves better, while at the same time inventing new technologies, these theories—answers to questions of who, what, when, where, and why—will undoubtedly begin to change. That’s the way of things. But, what will outlive many of these ideas is our learned perspective. As technology changes and evolves, we’ll be able to enjoy better quality of life by choosing to consider and discuss how new tools fit into the context of our society, rather than worrying about what threats they might pose. As I look back over what we’ve learned, I believe that’s the edge this class has given me. That’s been the greatest lesson.

FaceTime in the 1960’s.

When I was a kid, I remember looking through my dad’s illustrated World Book Encyclopedia from 1969. In a section featuring artist renditions of “the future,” I found an illustration of someone enjoying a conversation on their telephone. Next to the handset was a small computer screen, featuring the face of whoever was on the other end of the line. “Before you know it,” my dad said, looking over my shoulder, “that’s how we’ll talk to people on the phone.”

He was right. Less than fifteen years later, that’s how we talk to people. Well, that’s one way we can talk to people, if we so choose. Today, it’s not even necessary for a smartphone user to have WiFi access to FaceTime on the iPhone. So, if technology is evolving this quickly, what sorts of technologies will we have access to in the next fifteen years?

Who knows? But, as Nancy Baym wisely reminds us, it’s important for us to remember how we should react to the arrival of new technologies. We don’t need to worry so much about whether or not they are good or bad. Instead, in her words, “We need to  understand the social dynamics into which technologies are introduced and in which they play out.” Thankfully, many have already begun to realize this. However, future generations, also, must adopt attitudes of understanding and adaptation. Because, in Baym’s words, “Technologies do not arise from blank slates. They are first developed and deployed in social and cultural contexts.” This, first and foremost, is the lesson we must learn well, and teach the next generation.

It’s also important for us to understand that digital natives are, and will continue to be, more adept in grasping current issues regarding technologies than we might think. For instance, the public seems to assume that the tech-savy youth of today don’t care about their privacy online. However, in Boyd and Hargittai’s study on Facebook privacy, the researchers’ findings suggested that most younger users were both knowledgable and concerned about these issues. They say, “…it may appear that all is fine regarding related issues on Facebook since many young adult users are actively managing their profile’s public access.” They acknowledge that their study is only the beginning of overcoming our assumptions about how people think about privacy online. However, if their findings continue to prove true, maybe it’s time we focused the discussion about social media and online interactions toward how to wield these tools for maximum professional and personal success instead of worrying quite so much.

As students at an institution composed largely of traditional undergraduate students, it doesn’t come as a surprise to learn that the internet and social media are integral pieces of community involvement. Student organizations rely on social media for internal and external communication as much as, if not more than, civic organizations not affiliated with the University. So, most of us don’t need to be convinced that these tools are important for community engagement. However, it would be wise for us to pay attention to what our readings this week have to say about howpeople use social media within community organizations. To me, the most interesting static was the one which alluded to how we select leaders. In the Rainie, Purcell, and Smith study, the researchers found that only 35% of Americans feel the internet has a notable impact on this process. “”Finding people to take leadership roles” is the activity for which the internet is viewed as having the smallest impact,” they say. “…35% of Americans feel that the internet has a “major impact” on this aspect of group dynamics, a figure that is notably smaller than the other group impacts we evaluated.” This tells us a lot about how the internet is affecting group life and voluntary participation in the U.S. by showing where the internet falls short. Most of us still feel that the internet alone does not serve as a reliable resource for discerning who should lead. Perhaps as the worlds of television and internet media continue to converge, this sentiment will change. For now, perhaps this tells us that many feel the internet is still too impersonal and fluid to function alone in making these important decisions.

As with most media, there are positives and negatives to the internet. That has been a central theme of this course thus far, as we have explored the supposed – and, often simply assumed – pros and cons. I believe that one of the greatest benefits of taking this course is that it helps students developed an informed, balanced view of the internet. These studies, specifically, discuss these ideas as the relate to SNSs.

It was interesting that the Ellison, Steinfield, and Lampe study examined the difference many of us feel between those Facebook friends who are simply our friends on Facebook and “actual friends.” More interesting, though, were their findings which showed that those who didn’t qualify as actual friends didn’t have a lot of social value. “…the number of Facebook Friends alone did not predict bridging social capital, but the number of actual friends did.” This seems as if it should be obvious. Let’s be real, what do we really stand to gain from being connected with people we don’t really know? Maybe we simply want to satisfy our curiosities, or maybe we just like being able to say we have over 1,000 friends. It’s probably both. But, whatever the reasons may be, it’s helpful to have quantifiable evidence to reflect on that reminds us it is true friendships and real relationships that truly matter, not just that little box that reads, “1,576 friends.” That’s real social capital. It’s “the more the merrier,” because everyone could use another good friend. But, it’s also the sort of capital that isn’t just about numbers.

The Norris study comes a hopeful conclusion when it begins discussing the possibility that the “linkages” between diverse groups of people who participate in online communities. However, this begs questions like, “How many people still participate in online communities versus how many people utilize social media?” and, in turn, “How many people view and use social media as communities, and interact with diverse groups of people?”

In rural parts of the globe, the livelihoods many of depend on a simple tool which has existed for thousands of years: the fishing net. Similar to the word, “woodwork,” from the creation of this device, we derived the word “network.” As technology progressed, and innovators began conducting electricity through wire, the image of netting or network became a natural metaphor to describe such processes. Today, it is accepted almost universally as an apt term to describe websites such as MySpace and Facebook.

When I began considering the articles by Boyd, Ellison, and Beer, this image was the first thing that came to mind. As a former highschool debater, I tend to pay especially close attention to definitions. After reading their arguments concerning “network” and “networking,” I land somewhere in the middle. Boyd and Ellison offer an interesting argument for distinguishing “network” from “networking.” While it their assertion that networking implies building connections betweens strangers rings true, their conclusion that “networking” is largely absent from social networks does not. In today’s world, a great many number of individuals use large and growing social networks like Twitter and LinkedIn to reach out to people they have no previous contact with for the purpose  of creating professional connections. They use such sites to hear about the newest innovations in their fields, or even to find new employment. There are numerous cases of people finding jobs via Twitter.

One natural response to this comes in the form of a question. “So, how many people are really finding jobs and connecting with their professional peers via Twitter, LinkedIn, et cetera?” This is where I begin to resonate with Beer’s thoughts on the work of Ellison and Boyd. He writes, “My argument… is simply that we should be moving toward more differentiated classifications of the new online cultures not away from them.” My way of doing this would be to begin creating these classifications by acknowledging the differentiation between network and networking, but also to acknowledge that both are legitimate and salient phenomena. How such a theory might break down practically—which sites fall into which category —is another story. But, that’s the point of a class like this. It forces us begin considering about how we are going to begin thinking about these new tools we have created.

At first glance, the term “online communities” seems to represent a self-evident concept. But, upon closer examination, it quickly becomes a multi-dimensional subject. There are a great deal of ways one might define “online community.” In fact, reduce your definition enough, and you might conclude that the entirety of the worldwide web is a community. Conversely, choosing an alternate definition might lead you to conclude that there are actually no real “communities” online. But, neither of these viewpoints are necessarily helpful in giving the idea thoughtful consideration. As Baym points out at the outset of Chapter 4, “…no one has ever been able to agree what exactly “community” means.” This shouldn’t surprise anyone with experience academia. However, at the end of the day, definitional squabbles aren’t always as important as experience. In the documentary IRL, which chronicles the experiences of diverse individuals with the online community based on Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Bronze, one guy notes, “Once you got there, you didn’t stay because you wanted to talk about the show, I don’t think, you stayed for the sense of community.” It is this experience he speaks of, which echoes my own personal experience, that truly defines “online communities.” It’s that sense we have that we truly resonate with others we interact with on a consistent basis. Random groups of people we brush shoulders with virtually are easily forgotten, but a sense of camaraderie and belonging remains long after the community dissolves.

Today, if you receive a letter—an uncommon occurrence in the age of online communication—a return-address label in the upper left-hand corner frequently identifies the sender. Similarly, several hundred years ago, a crest imprinted in wax sealing the envelope would tell you whom the letter was from. In those days, these seals were extremely important. They were displayed in architecture, on documents, or even on clothing. They were usually in the form of a coat of arms, featuring a variety of colors, symbols and images indicative of how the individual, family, or rulers saw themselves. A lion might indicate strength, alongside a flower native to the owner’s home. Whatever the heraldry displayed, it was designed to say something about who that individual or group was. Today, in a more abstract sense, we utilize different forms of CMC to perform the same task; we consider the complexities of who we are, identify what we consider to be the most important facets of our “selves,” and display these characteristics on digital platforms. This is what Huffaker and Calvert discovered in their study of how adolescents use blogs to express their identities. They concluded,

…our data suggest a tendency for adolescents to use language to create an anchor and a consistent public face as they engage in the very serious business of constructing a stable cohesive set of representations of who they are.

One might consider this “set of representations” as a virtual coat of arms. The subjects used language and quasi-linguistic tools, such as emoticons, to express who they are. As exemplified by the teenagers using blogs to express their gender identities, individuals can come to see their blogs as representations of themselves to the word. This was also evidenced in the study we examined by Grasmuck, Martin, and Zhao, during which they found that, generally, members of “distinct ethno-racial groups” are likely to identify strongly with their heritage through the way they express themselves online. However, just as a coat of arms might be displayed larger on a flag than on a letter, it is likely that some might choose to emphasize one aspect of their identity on their blog more than on Facebook. Perhaps this is because blogs often have specific audiences, or because some views and lifestyles are still not broadly accepted socially. Whatever the case may be, it seems clear that the overwhelming majority see CMC as a way of displaying who they are to the world. In my virtual coat of arms, I might display my cultural heritage in the “Blog” box on the shield, with my political ideas in the “Social media” box beside it. However we choose represent the most important aspects of who we are, there’s no doubt that, whether or not we give it a lot of though, we express these things in our online interaction.

At first glance, Turkle’s discussion of MUDs might seem foreign, if not just a little weird. Even if we experienced a Dungeons and Dragons phase at one point or another, few of us would admit it. But, if we’re honest, it’s not a stretch to say that most of us, at one point or another, found ourselves engrossed in some sort of MUD. So, if we’re able (or. perhaps, in some cases, willing) to think back far enough, perhaps we’ll be able to re-live that experience.

My own personal reflection took me back to eighth grade, a time I remember as the point at which I reached my full potential as a mega-nerd. I was heavily involved with a MUD called “NationStates,” in which players had the opportunity to create their own nation (complete with it’s own profile, composed of your nation’s notable laws, economy, political classification, et cetera—fascinating, I know). These nations would then be tied to the “Region” of the user’s choice. Regions elected delegates to the United Nations, passed their own legislation, and even co-wrote the histories of inter-regional “wars” in their own forums.  It was engrossing, and, as you can see, totally cool. It would be easy to dismiss this a fond memory or amusing anecdote, but, it is interesting to note the similarities between the draw a MUD may have had yesterday and the appeal of SNSs and blogging today.

In Chapter 5, Baym quotes Turkle’s poignant analogy of windows, which she sums up by writing, “The self is no longer playing different roles in different settings at different times. The life practice of windows is that of a decentered self that exists in many worlds, that plays many roles at the same time.” This description will likely resonate clearly with those who self-identify as “networked individuals.” However, although Baym and Turkle both attribute (at least, in part) to the internet, the networks and communities thereon also seem to provide a solution. Speaking about MUDs, Turkle asserts that online communities serve as, “…objects-to-think-with for thinking about our postmodern selves.” While most of us are probably not active MUD participants, this statement applies to blogs and SNSs as well. At times, it can feel like an enormous challenge to cognitively consolidate our professional, artistic, and/or personal “identities.” However, SNSs and blogs give us the opportunity to create and arrange content we feel best expresses who we are.

Yesterday, as a kid in middle school, I wanted to create a “nation” that expressed my views, values, and ideas about the way things ought to be. Even though I might not have realized it, it was really important for me that my creation reflect each of these things accurately and artfully. Today, I often find myself trying to do the same thing through my Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram accounts. “What does this say about my personal brand, and how can I better use the tools to create and communicate that brand?” But, it’s about more than that. It’s an opportunity for me to reflect on what that content says about who I am today, and who I might hope to be tomorrow.

“The alarm is repetitive: something is happening now to rend apart the supposedly supportive, fulfilling bonds of the olden days—although in every generation the alarmists keep looking back approvingly to the previous generation” (Networked, Ch. 5).

We’re all heard it before. It’s that age-old warning that the latest greatest thing—whatever it may be—will, in fact, be the last greatest thing, because the newfangled contraption will inevitably spell the end of civilization. So, in their book entitled, Networked: The New Social Operating System, Lee Rainie & Barry Wellman take it upon themselves to reassure us that, in fact, technology simply represents ways in we’ve changed the way we interact with one another. “People are not hooked on gadgets,” they argue, “they are hooked on each other” (Networked, Ch. 1). I agree, but that’s not to say that naysayers don’t have a point. Later on in their introductory chapter, the pair give their answer to the question on all of our minds, “So, is all of this technology good or bad?” “The simple answer is: both and more,” they say. “Networked individuals live in an environment that tests their capacities to deal with each other and with information.”

As a “Networked individual,” that happens to be exactly how I view my own interaction with technology—it’s a test. Lately, I’ve started to become more and more interested in Instagram. However, as I’ve become enamored with browsing through the seemingly endless supply of artwork other users have created, and creating some of my own, I’ve found that it’s more challenging to be fully present, if you will, with my friends and loved ones. In fact, it’s even more of a challenge for them at times than it is for me. Before I know it, I can miss the punch line of my friend’s story, or my girlfriend and I might spend thirty minutes of our dinner together browsing through social media. But, that doesn’t make those media bad, it presents us with a challenge. Like the family in the radio interview, some of us set technology aside for the weekend. Others of us simply make smartphones dinner table contraband. Whatever our various strategies might be, the point is to have one. We don’t need to condemn technology. We just need to praise balance.

Joseph Ducreux

A famous portrait entitled, “Portrait de l’artiste sous les traits d’un moqueur,” or “Self-portrait of the artist in the guise of a mockingbird” dates back to 1793. It is a remarkably detailed self portrait by highly respected French painter Joseph Ducreux, who once worked for the court of Louis XVI. However, before two years ago, few would recognize his work.

Today, many identify Ducreux’s famous “selfie,” not as a famous work of art, but as a meme. Because the artist’s clothing, hairstyle, and accessories making him easily identifiable as an 18th century figure, people began adding captions to the portrait which re-phrased the words of famous hip-hop/pop songs in antiquated language. For example, instead of “Teach me how to Dougie,” Ducreux asks, “Instruct me in the the art of dancing the Douglas.”

In his passage on meme’s, Patrick Davison discusses how many memes are artifacts from the web which, unlike content from places such as YouTube or Wikipedia, avoid attribution. In other words, it is often difficult or impossible to discern their origins. He asks, “…why do certain memes eschew attribution?” However, it would seem that one would be hard pressed to find any memes which identify the author by naming the author, which is how Davison chooses to define attribution.

Perhaps we can identify Mr. Ducreux simply by doing a little research into his painting, however, we’ll never know who chose to use his painting for a little bit of harmless, humorous virtual vandalism. Mr. Davison was right to observe this. But, perhaps he was wrong to restrict his observation to only some memes.