Social media do link us. They create new kinds of community, which, I hope, do not replace, but facilitate traditional kinds of community. Yet there are dangers.
Take email, because even if you're not facebooking, you're probably sending and receiving email every day. It's such a wonderful tool. It's fast, it's convenient. It lets you think about and revise and delete ill-considered words before you hit send. In talking, once it's out, you can't take it back. Writing lets you be more exact and careful.
On the other hand, with email you have to be really exact and careful. Spoken conversation rolls along, and facial expressions and smiles and body language send reassuring messages, and if the other person looks puzzled or hurt by what you said you can see that instantly and adapt and reassure. But the email words just sit there on the screen, staring at the reader, as if daring the reader to draw a negative interpretation.
Literacy is a wonderful thing, and we know that literacy is a crucial part of critical thinking. Reading and evaluating the written word is the bedrock of critical thinking skills -- for the written word strips away the social friendliness of a face-to-face context. Critical thinking is a wonderful thing, but the downside is that it's so...critical. People who can think for themselves do -- and instead of agreement, you get all these individually staked-out positions -- which is great in contexts that call for contributing an original and distinctive rational argument. A family, however, would have a hard time if what family members most valued in each other was argumentation. The same goes for a community.
Illustration. For the first 50 years of the US supreme court, the justices sat around a table and talked their way to a decision on the cases before them. The result: a very high proportion of decisions were unanimous. By the 20th century, the justices had adopted the practice of not talking about cases with each other, but each retreating into their separate quarters where they and their clerks write their arguments, and where they write responses to each other -- proposing revision if they more or less agree and writing counter-arguments for their dissent if they don't. Their process is all about independent critical thought, at which, whether you agree with the decision or not, I think we can acknowledge they and their staffs are very good (with a few notable exceptions, the most egregious of which, to my mind, is the 2000 Bush v. Gore decision). As a graduate student of jurisprudence, I read a lot of Supreme Court majority and dissenting opinions. Aside from Bush v. Gore, even when I thought the decisions were wrong and deeply wrong, I could see they were well-argued (even, I'd say, the disastrous Citizens United decision). The result is that today a unanimous decision is very rare indeed, and the most common vote is now 5-4.
Written communication is great for independent thinking and critical thought, and we absolutely need it. Face-to-face oral communication is how community is built.
Disagreement is a good thing. We need disagreement and we need it worked out in a face-to-face way. Unitarian Universalism, more than any religion in history, honors and cherishes diversity, is built upon a love of community of difference. We want to hear each unique voice -- it's what we love about being Unitarian Universalists, and we are better at that, better at combining independent thought with community than any religion has ever been.
But sometimes best still isn't very good.
Face-to-face communication is how community is built. And I'm at fault because my face -- my original face before my parents were born -- hasn't always shown itself. We've got good independent thinkers -- no deficit there. Where we sometimes fall down, good people -- where I fall down -- is in presenting to each other only our electronic selves, not the fuller embodiment of who we are. Blogging ain't enough.
The technology itself is neither the problem nor the solution. The solution and the problem lie in the spiritual wisdom and responsibility, and lack thereof, with which we use the technology. Mindfully. Or not. With love truly as our guide. Or not. "We can feign helplessness and stand in awe of technology or we can act with intention and courage" (Mary Katherine Morn) and just be ourselves, our better selves, and make a more connected world.
Amen.
* * *
This is part 4 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Previous: Part 3: "Hurricanes"
Beginning: Part 1: "Facebook?"
Pages 'n' Links
Showing posts with label Electronic Self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Electronic Self. Show all posts
2012-10-17
2012-10-16
Hurricanes
Facebook is best at the humor. Through such media, the self we fashion and present is fragmented into small bits. We make ourselves into "A Million Little Pieces" -- and, as that title suggests, the result is semi-autobiographical and semi-fraudulent. The result is also often very funny.
As a hurricane was approaching, one of my Facebook friends posted this:
The answer is up to us -- it depends on how we use these media. The social media technology, and email, like any technology, help us with some of our old purposes and offer us possibilities of new purposes. Yet there are dangers, so engage the technologies mindfully.
UU Minister Mary Katherine Morn suggests these questions for any technology:
Speaking of hurricanes, for instance, the Red Cross has found that social media have become a key part of emergency response. A report from the Red Cross (2011 August) says that nearly one-quarter of the general population would use social media to tell loved ones -- all their friends and acquaintances and associates at once -- that they were OK, or weren't. And how did I find out this Red Cross survey? One of my congregants posted the link to the article on . . . Facebook.
When it comes to the self, hurricanes are an apt metaphor. Here's this being -- it's got a name: Camille, Katrina, Andrew, Irene. But what is it? It's just air and water. As of mid-August 2005, all the same air and water that would hit New Orleans on August 29 was around, but there was nothing to call "Katrina." By mid-September, the same air and water was still around, but there was again be nothing to call Katrina.
And a hurricane has very fuzzy edges. Hurricane Irene just weakens the further out we go, but there no bright-line circle we can draw and say "that's Irene on that side of the line -- and not-Irene on the other side." Same with you really. What's you about you -- what's Alice about Alice or Phil about Phil doesn't stop at their skin -- if it did it would never get through to anyone else.
We are basically hurricanes -- temporary swirling masses just coherent enough to be namable, but no clear edges, beginning, or end, and made of nothing but the universe itself.
Who is Irene? Irene is a hurricane. Well, what's a hurricane? It's an identifiable pattern of circular winds with speeds of blah, blah, blah. What's wind? What is Speed? What is Pattern? Four-year-olds can be persistent with questions, "Why?" and "What is...?" The wisdom of the four-year-old teaches us that anything you say with words can be questioned.
So who is Irene?
Irene is: WhoooOOOOoooshsh! See? You knew that. But for a minute there, you couldn't see how to express it. So, if that's Irene, who are you when you're on facebook? You're a little picture, which you can control, and you're something pithy you've written, which you can control, and you're appearing on the facebook page of every one of the people you have friended, wedged into as many different contexts that you can't control.
Who are you when you're emailing?
It is nice to see the electronic selves that those of you who are active on facebook present: with your quips about music or politics and your photos of puppies and roller derby bruises. That's just a very small part of who you are. It links us and creates the possibility of new kinds of community not to replace, ideally, but to facilitate the traditional kinds of community. Yet there are dangers.
* * *
This is part 3 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Next: Part 4: "Neither Problem Nor Solution"
Previous: Part 2: "Blessed Be. Who Are You?"
Beginning: Part 1: "Facebook?"
As a hurricane was approaching, one of my Facebook friends posted this:
"As Hurricane Irene prepares to batter the East Coast, federal disaster officials have warned that Internet outages could force people to interact with other people for the first time in years. Residents are bracing for the horror of awkward silences and unwanted eye contact. FEMA has advised: 'Be prepared. Write down possible topics to talk about in advance. Sports, the weather. Remember, a conversation is basically a series of Facebook updates strung together.”Funny. Is there a truth in that humor, that all this facebooking causing a loss of the face-to-face arts? Or are social media just a nice complement to in-person contact?
The answer is up to us -- it depends on how we use these media. The social media technology, and email, like any technology, help us with some of our old purposes and offer us possibilities of new purposes. Yet there are dangers, so engage the technologies mindfully.
UU Minister Mary Katherine Morn suggests these questions for any technology:
- Does it help or hinder in the living of our days?
- Does it include many or leave many behind?
- Does it make us wiser, or merely increase information?
- Does it bring people together or alienate people from one another?
- Technology is always power -- so is it the power over, or power with, others.
- Does it free us, or reinforce addictions that imprison us?
- Does it increase our circle of compassion or limit our ability to love?
Speaking of hurricanes, for instance, the Red Cross has found that social media have become a key part of emergency response. A report from the Red Cross (2011 August) says that nearly one-quarter of the general population would use social media to tell loved ones -- all their friends and acquaintances and associates at once -- that they were OK, or weren't. And how did I find out this Red Cross survey? One of my congregants posted the link to the article on . . . Facebook.
When it comes to the self, hurricanes are an apt metaphor. Here's this being -- it's got a name: Camille, Katrina, Andrew, Irene. But what is it? It's just air and water. As of mid-August 2005, all the same air and water that would hit New Orleans on August 29 was around, but there was nothing to call "Katrina." By mid-September, the same air and water was still around, but there was again be nothing to call Katrina.
And a hurricane has very fuzzy edges. Hurricane Irene just weakens the further out we go, but there no bright-line circle we can draw and say "that's Irene on that side of the line -- and not-Irene on the other side." Same with you really. What's you about you -- what's Alice about Alice or Phil about Phil doesn't stop at their skin -- if it did it would never get through to anyone else.
We are basically hurricanes -- temporary swirling masses just coherent enough to be namable, but no clear edges, beginning, or end, and made of nothing but the universe itself.
Who is Irene? Irene is a hurricane. Well, what's a hurricane? It's an identifiable pattern of circular winds with speeds of blah, blah, blah. What's wind? What is Speed? What is Pattern? Four-year-olds can be persistent with questions, "Why?" and "What is...?" The wisdom of the four-year-old teaches us that anything you say with words can be questioned.
So who is Irene?
Irene is: WhoooOOOOoooshsh! See? You knew that. But for a minute there, you couldn't see how to express it. So, if that's Irene, who are you when you're on facebook? You're a little picture, which you can control, and you're something pithy you've written, which you can control, and you're appearing on the facebook page of every one of the people you have friended, wedged into as many different contexts that you can't control.
Who are you when you're emailing?
It is nice to see the electronic selves that those of you who are active on facebook present: with your quips about music or politics and your photos of puppies and roller derby bruises. That's just a very small part of who you are. It links us and creates the possibility of new kinds of community not to replace, ideally, but to facilitate the traditional kinds of community. Yet there are dangers.
* * *
This is part 3 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Next: Part 4: "Neither Problem Nor Solution"
Previous: Part 2: "Blessed Be. Who Are You?"
Beginning: Part 1: "Facebook?"
2012-10-15
Blessed Be. Who Are You?
So how do you be yourself through these electronic social media? Which self? Let's start with: who are you anyway?
There's a little exercise you can do -- I've done this. It takes two people. You sit facing each other, looking into each other's faces. Person A simply asks, "Who are you?" For five minutes, whatever Person B says, Person A responds the same way: a phrase of acceptance, and then a repeat of the question.
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"I'm Meredith Garmon."
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"I'm the minister of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Gainesville."
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"I'm the first born child of Gerald and Lucille."
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"The father of Morgen and John, and more-or-less of Yency."
"Blessed be. Who are you?" And so on and on. After five minutes, stop, switch places, with Person B asking "Who are you?" and Person A answering. Try this with somebody. It does something to you. I can't tell you what. There's no substitute for the experience itself. But a kind of insight that can't be put in words begins to emerge as you see the inadequacy of one word after another to identify who you are.
I was doing this exercise, and at one point, I had exhausted everything I could think of about my family or job, my passions, my hobbies, my commitments, my hopes, fears, abilities, disabilities, gifts, shadows. And each time my partner said: "Blessed be. Who are you?"
Finally I said, "Exactly right."
Who am I? "Who am I?" is who I am. I am the question itself. I am a walking, continuous, "who am I?"
And that felt like a good insight -- for about two seconds. Then my partner patiently said, "Blessed be. Who are you?"
Then I said: "I don't know."
It felt freeing to have no conception to stick to -- no word or phrase or definition to package me -- the liberation of not knowing -- for just a moment. Then, again, "Blessed be, Who are you?" And so on, and on. Try it sometime.
If you go to a zen teacher, she may ask you: "Show me your original face before your parents were born?" There's something about you that isn't about who your parents were, or your teachers or experiences. And she's not asking you to tell, but to show your original face. Show it! Zen teachers teach not by telling you much of anything -- the answer is in you. And I've been learning an lot in that work that I do.
Nowadays, we have ways of manifesting an electronic self: Facebook. Twitter. Linkedin. Email. Blogs. The social media. What original face before your parents were born do we show there?
It's cool to have contact with students I taught or debaters I knew decades ago. Mostly, my interest in facebook is a tool for connecting with my congregants. It's been lovely to get word from you of your travails with your hair -- and other news, good and bad. Yesterday, for example (all names changed):
* * *
This is part 2 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Next: Part 3: "Hurricanes"
Previous: Part 1: "Facebook?"
There's a little exercise you can do -- I've done this. It takes two people. You sit facing each other, looking into each other's faces. Person A simply asks, "Who are you?" For five minutes, whatever Person B says, Person A responds the same way: a phrase of acceptance, and then a repeat of the question.
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"I'm Meredith Garmon."
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"I'm the minister of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Gainesville."
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"I'm the first born child of Gerald and Lucille."
"Blessed be. Who are you?"
"The father of Morgen and John, and more-or-less of Yency."
"Blessed be. Who are you?" And so on and on. After five minutes, stop, switch places, with Person B asking "Who are you?" and Person A answering. Try this with somebody. It does something to you. I can't tell you what. There's no substitute for the experience itself. But a kind of insight that can't be put in words begins to emerge as you see the inadequacy of one word after another to identify who you are.
I was doing this exercise, and at one point, I had exhausted everything I could think of about my family or job, my passions, my hobbies, my commitments, my hopes, fears, abilities, disabilities, gifts, shadows. And each time my partner said: "Blessed be. Who are you?"
Finally I said, "Exactly right."
Who am I? "Who am I?" is who I am. I am the question itself. I am a walking, continuous, "who am I?"
And that felt like a good insight -- for about two seconds. Then my partner patiently said, "Blessed be. Who are you?"
Then I said: "I don't know."
It felt freeing to have no conception to stick to -- no word or phrase or definition to package me -- the liberation of not knowing -- for just a moment. Then, again, "Blessed be, Who are you?" And so on, and on. Try it sometime.
If you go to a zen teacher, she may ask you: "Show me your original face before your parents were born?" There's something about you that isn't about who your parents were, or your teachers or experiences. And she's not asking you to tell, but to show your original face. Show it! Zen teachers teach not by telling you much of anything -- the answer is in you. And I've been learning an lot in that work that I do.
Nowadays, we have ways of manifesting an electronic self: Facebook. Twitter. Linkedin. Email. Blogs. The social media. What original face before your parents were born do we show there?
It's cool to have contact with students I taught or debaters I knew decades ago. Mostly, my interest in facebook is a tool for connecting with my congregants. It's been lovely to get word from you of your travails with your hair -- and other news, good and bad. Yesterday, for example (all names changed):
- I learned that Trish says she is finally able to sit up after her emergency back surgery.
- Doug posted: "8 months of marital Bliss so far!" Congratulations, Doug! Doug later had a message that I can get a free magical token for helping his kingdom. I don't know what that means, but now I have something I can ask Doug about next time I see him.
- Beatrice has her hotel booked and is on her way to Maryland.
- Joan is fostering two little kittens for the next 6 weeks. She posted pictures. Too cute!
- LaTrell posted about calling some contra dancing.
- Because of facebook, I know that Ramona saw ten wild turkeys in her front yard yesterday morning.
* * *
This is part 2 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Next: Part 3: "Hurricanes"
Previous: Part 1: "Facebook?"
2012-10-14
Facebook?
Facebook! What do you make of this "social medium"? And what is it making of you and of us? One of my colleague Unitarian Universalist ministers solicited and collected comments about the Facebook experience from various members of her congregation. Here's a sampling of what they had to say about it:
Let's start with: who are you anyway? Never mind electronic social media. Just: Who are you?
* * *
This is part 1 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Next: Part 2: "Blessed Be. Who Are You?"
As a teen I'm looking at relationship differently. Connections are more important. Our lives are build on relationship. In the 21st century, connections are different. We don't write letters, we text and email and facebook."Just be yourself," we are often told. So how do you be yourself through these electronic social media? What is your electronic self? What is it that is presented in "social media"? Are you being yourself? How would you know? Which self? Which part of you does the social media magnify, or change?
I'm enjoying this new toy finding old and new friends. I find people on Facebook I thought I'd never see again. It's like a delightful easter egg hunt: each egg is a friends.
I'm a geek. I communicate better online than in person. I certainly communicate more. For many years seasonal depression kept me from sending out Christmas cards. Facebook, though, works for staying in touch with all my friends all over the country.
I really valued facebook and emails when I was in the hospital this year. It kept me in touch with the people I need to be in touch with. But I also really need face-to-face support. I have a tendency to look like I'm coping beautifully with adversity even when I'm not. It takes someone being right there for me to be my real self. I guess there's a time to facebook -- and a time to pick up the phone -- and a time to visit in person.
Long before there was facebook, or internet dating, or chat rooms on AOL, my wife and I met each other through special interest group postings. It was the clarity of ideas in print that drew us together.
Facebook is a modern-day virtual village. It helps me because I work from home. I don't have co-workers in the usual sense. But through Facebook, I have some of my co-workers back, and I can chat throughout my day if I like. I love it. I hope it never goes away. Heck, I can even talk to my minister on facebook if I want.
If you know how to use the medium wisely, you can enact change and bring attention to things in a much more personal and direct way than anything else I can think of.
Facebook lets you see what people you know are up to. It's not crucial. But you stay connected in a small way that would not otherwise be possible. Like: one of my friends' travails with her hair. It's sort of sweet to stay in touch in an unobtrusive way.
Honestly, a lot of it is just a time killer. All these games and such -- inviting people to do digital, virtual versions of real things: poke a friend, or digitally share a beer. I've digitally poked so many people, and they've digitally poked me back, enough to keep me digitally bruised from head to foot for years. But I guess that's OK because I've shared enough digital beers with enough digital people to keep me digitally drunk until the bruises heal.
Let's start with: who are you anyway? Never mind electronic social media. Just: Who are you?
* * *
This is part 1 of 4 of "The Electronic Self"
Next: Part 2: "Blessed Be. Who Are You?"
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