LJ and Six Apart
Jan. 8th, 2005 07:25 pmWhen first rumours started spreading that Six Apart was willing to buy LJ Danah Boyd was very pessimistic. She made a distinction between the blogger, who uses tools to make his or her thoughts public, and the person who uses LJ, for this is -- according to Danah Boyd -- in the first place a way of maintaining communities.
I wasn't really convinced of her analyses, though. I can't relate to the way she portrays LJ-users as geeks, freaks, queers that find the so needed back up community they lack in their everyday lives on the internet. I hardly seek out communities on LJ. I don't take part in them. I find myself wandering on the outskirts of them, looking in but never participating -- like I wander on the outskirts of communities in my everyday life. It's behaviour I taught myself while in secondary school where I was considered a bit of a strange person. I muddled through by putting my tactless and socially inept self outside the center of attention. There was no fast internet connection to get into contact with like-minded persons, but I had my ways of getting attention -- even from my peers. I did things like drawing, writing, reading poetry, playing theatre and others actually appreciated me for that. I was a good student and nobody ever looked down on me for that. I didn't have friends and I hated going to school, but sometimes, when I dared to come out with stuff I did, enjoyed and was good at, I was appreciated. I was never dismissed as one of the "queer kids", as one of the freaks.
It is in my opinion the make-up of American high school culture that lets Danah Boyd put her stress so much on subcultures. Where I found a public, even if it was my own family or those few fellow pupils that saw my drawings and said they liked them, I have the feeling that an American high school doesn't give you this kind of openness. Or as computer geek Willow puts it when she first meets Buffy in Welcome to the Hellmouth and observes the slayer was walking around with the cool girls at first:
You can't hang out with the cool kids and the geeks at once. It's impossible. Whereas the way I lived it, it was possible. Yes, there were kids that got ignored (I was one of them). Yes, some of them hated going to school as much as I did. But there wasn't an "incrowd" you had to belong to. And when I look at the kids I teach now, I still don't see that.
LJ is a natural consequence of my writing habit which I started around the age of ten, I think. It gives me something I never had: an audience. I simply have to point the way once and they keep on reading. I don't have to say it every time when something new pops up. But I'm still shy, living on the outskirts of communities, not wanting no matter who reading me. And LJ lets me do that. I choose who I point this way, I choose not to fill out my interests, so you can't find me when you do a search on them. Here I agree with Danah. She writes:
I started my LJ as a way of maintaining the relationships with friends I met at the BC&S, but it became also a way of making myself a public, an audience, one I lacked for so long and one I can monitor, so I won't have to fear too hostile comments. I hardly write what happens in my everyday life, simply because it's not what I want to write. This LJ is still public and you can still find it through links I leave here and there. It has -- in a way -- become something in between what Danah calls a blog and what she names an LJ. I enjoy writing for an audience, looking at the world around me and thinking about what I can blog. A friend asked me if it isn't difficult to come up with a new post every day, because you know your public expects that from you. I must say it is that that I enjoy.
I wasn't really convinced of her analyses, though. I can't relate to the way she portrays LJ-users as geeks, freaks, queers that find the so needed back up community they lack in their everyday lives on the internet. I hardly seek out communities on LJ. I don't take part in them. I find myself wandering on the outskirts of them, looking in but never participating -- like I wander on the outskirts of communities in my everyday life. It's behaviour I taught myself while in secondary school where I was considered a bit of a strange person. I muddled through by putting my tactless and socially inept self outside the center of attention. There was no fast internet connection to get into contact with like-minded persons, but I had my ways of getting attention -- even from my peers. I did things like drawing, writing, reading poetry, playing theatre and others actually appreciated me for that. I was a good student and nobody ever looked down on me for that. I didn't have friends and I hated going to school, but sometimes, when I dared to come out with stuff I did, enjoyed and was good at, I was appreciated. I was never dismissed as one of the "queer kids", as one of the freaks.
It is in my opinion the make-up of American high school culture that lets Danah Boyd put her stress so much on subcultures. Where I found a public, even if it was my own family or those few fellow pupils that saw my drawings and said they liked them, I have the feeling that an American high school doesn't give you this kind of openness. Or as computer geek Willow puts it when she first meets Buffy in Welcome to the Hellmouth and observes the slayer was walking around with the cool girls at first:
Willow: But aren't you hanging out with Cordelia?
Buffy: I can't do both?
Willow: Not legally.
You can't hang out with the cool kids and the geeks at once. It's impossible. Whereas the way I lived it, it was possible. Yes, there were kids that got ignored (I was one of them). Yes, some of them hated going to school as much as I did. But there wasn't an "incrowd" you had to belong to. And when I look at the kids I teach now, I still don't see that.
LJ is a natural consequence of my writing habit which I started around the age of ten, I think. It gives me something I never had: an audience. I simply have to point the way once and they keep on reading. I don't have to say it every time when something new pops up. But I'm still shy, living on the outskirts of communities, not wanting no matter who reading me. And LJ lets me do that. I choose who I point this way, I choose not to fill out my interests, so you can't find me when you do a search on them. Here I agree with Danah. She writes:
They [the LJ-users] typically value communication and identity development over publishing and reaching mass audiences. The culture is a vast array of intimate groups, many of whom want that intimacy preserved. LiveJournal is not a lowbrow version of blogging; it is a practice with different values and needs, focused far more on social solidarity, cultural work and support than the typical blog.
I started my LJ as a way of maintaining the relationships with friends I met at the BC&S, but it became also a way of making myself a public, an audience, one I lacked for so long and one I can monitor, so I won't have to fear too hostile comments. I hardly write what happens in my everyday life, simply because it's not what I want to write. This LJ is still public and you can still find it through links I leave here and there. It has -- in a way -- become something in between what Danah calls a blog and what she names an LJ. I enjoy writing for an audience, looking at the world around me and thinking about what I can blog. A friend asked me if it isn't difficult to come up with a new post every day, because you know your public expects that from you. I must say it is that that I enjoy.