Reconciling skepticism and optimism in a post-paper life

Dan Gillmor would be proud. Or maybe he'd just roll his eyes and say that I used common sense, which should be expected and not applauded. Whichever the case (I'll find out Monday when he comes to our class to chat), when I first heard that Whitney Houston had died, it was on Twitter -- and I doubted it. I first saw it in a tweet from a former newspaper coworker -- someone who's certainly no dummy, much more social- and digital-media adept than I, and a person from whom I'd definitely trust a report.

I still went to three other news sources and checked the originating AP tweet myself before adding my own two cents to the celebrity death 'verse.

I suppose I was Mediactive, a term Gillmor coins in a book-blog-website hybrid release that aims to push the public to be more involved and educated about the news it digests and creates. I read a tweet this morning that Twitter broadcast the news of Houston's death 27 minutes before other media. Is that true? I didn't do much research it, but from what I know of Twitter, and its propensity to spread both real and fake news at lightening-fast speed, I at least give it credence.

This morning brought more news from another former newspaper coworker via Twitter:

As soon as I saw it, I knew what Michael meant and that he, too, was skeptical of this news. News I hadn't seen yet, but I quickly checked other news sites. No, Keanu Reeves is not dead, but he was for a while to a number of folks on Twitter. And I checked the #KeanuReeves hashtag itself, which was already rife with the word "hoax." Whew.

This just showed me that in my little circle of former newspaper folks, we were skeptical of some news and reported others quickly through a nearly instant medium. And when I think of  my little circle of what I call journo-friends or N-J peeps (from our time at the Daytona Beach News-Journal), I realize most of us are out of the business officially these days (but that's a whole other story about the newspaper industry...). Reading "Mediactive" brings up all sorts of issues with that idea. Are we ever really "out" of the business? It doesn't look like it.

While I read this book, I could hear the jeers, sighs, and fist-pounding that my newsroom colleagues would have had with his ideas: "Online media reports can't be trusted and they certainly have no place in print!"; "Give away our content for free?!"; "Let the readers contribute!?" Crazy ideas. Ideas that I now have to consider as integral parts of digital media's future.


Admittedly I'm still trained to bristle at the mention of "citizen journalism." But now I'm that citizen and I must force myself to look at the media from this new vantage point: my couch with all the other folks. I'm fairly certain that I'm slightly more intelligent than those "other folks," but isn't that the thought that got parts of the media into the quandary they're in now -- hubris? As a working-in-the-industry journalist, I had training that most people didn't, access that post people didn't, and power that most people didn't. I had the power to write a headline, decide what story ran from a practically bottomless pool of possibilities, and maybe more importantly, the power to decide what didn't run.  Now my power lies in my ability to research and filter good news from bad. I'd like to think I can do that better than the average, non-journalist-Joe, but I bet I'm wrong.

Gillmor puts forth an optimistic view of the media landscape; he's confident that, together, we can bring out the best of our knowledge and journalistic instincts. I'm working on being an optimist. Ten years in a newsroom is a lot to work through.

Lots of Information

We read "The Information," by James Gleick for this week. The enormity of this book equals its content; from drum beats to Wikipedia, it covers the rise and transformation of information through the ages.

Like most readers, I like a good story. I wish Gleick would have sewn ideas together a bit more and told a story instead of presenting us with history lesson after history lesson. However, I bet the former was his intent. By writing and constructing it the way he did, he made his point: There's a lot to take in, to understand, and it's a complicated  journey from drum beat to byte.

An interesting question to ask after digesting this read is, "What are we going to do with all of this information?" I don't mean the book itself, though it is daunting and even dubbed "aspirational" by a New York Times reviewer. I mean with everything being in the cloud now, or at least on its way, what's next? Sure, we can catalog all that is for future generations, but then what? Will they continue to do the same? Will Wikipedia never end, having every page on every gas station archived for eternity? I envision a time when there's no cloud because everything is the cloud - TV, mail, all our personal records, banking transactions - all that stuff. I suppose all that information will still be stored then, too, but in a way I can't even fathom.

But that's the point of, "The Information" -- to show me that science and technology will answer my question for me. There will be a new theory, invention, or idea to come along and make me realize why all of the information is a good thing and show me what future generations can do with it.

I wish Gleick would have talked about the economic impact of all this information (perhaps it will be in the sequel?). It costs a lot of money (now) to store huge quantities of anything -- a reason cloud computing has become so popular. Granted, as technology progresses, so will the availability of it, but what does that mean for the moment? Or for countries who don't have the infrastructure to catalog their "right now" as tomorrow's history?

Maybe Wikipedia will catalog important things for those who can't type it right now. When it comes to that anyone-can-edit online encyclopedia, I'm an inclusionist (tho most of this post may make me sound like a deletionist). Let's write it all down and let technology catch up with us. Let's acknowledge we have too much information right now and see what the mathematicians, philosophers, and scientists of today and tomorrow can invent for the next big step.

The power of being plugged in

The readings for this week, particularly Amir Hatem Ali's "The Power of Social Media in Developing Nations...." (Harvard Human Rights Journal); Zizi Papacharissi's "The Virtual Sphere..." (New Media & Society); and Everett M. Rodgers' "The Digital Divide" (Convergence), raised an interesting debate both internally in my own brain, and externally as the husband (who will now be referred to as Larry throughout this blog) and I discussed points that I would blurt out while reading. What struck me was that the two of us were discussing the idea that having access to technology (the Internet, computers, etc) and its associated infrastructure could lift up a underdeveloped society.

I interpreted two arguments from some of these readings: infrastructure is almost critical to the success and prosperity of underdeveloped nations, and the contrary, introduced in Ali's work to offer the other side of the coin from famous technology experts Bill Gates and Steve Jobs. The academics say, essentially, "the power of information will save the world," while the technologists -- the ones who could conceivably make money off this idea if they were to don their capitalist hats for this venture --  say, "No, this is not what these people need at the moment."

What I find interesting from all this is the fact that on both sides of the argument sit fairly privileged people determining what is best, or what should be a first step, for these other societies.

Maria Sourbati's "Media Literacy and Universal Access in Europe" (Information Society) comes closest to my belief that we can't just plug everyone in and say "go." From most of these other articles, the overarching idea was that a lower socioeconomic status was connected to lower digital media skills and could lead, within certain societies, a disenfranchisement of those lower socioeconomic classes. This is somewhat of a "given" for me, and is not the same issue. Of course within an already plugged-in society we will have the plugged-in and the not-plugged-in. And of course we can't just drop off some technology and expect the solution to be solved; Alexander van Deursen and Jan van Dijk's "Internet skills and the digital divide" (New Media & Society) skills tests taught us that. In these cases, it is obvious to me that trying to level the playing field within that society by providing infrastructure and education is a completely different issue than deciding whether or not to plug in an completely unplugged society because of reason X.

To quote from Zizi Papacharissi's "The Virtual Sphere..." (New Media & Society):

"Those who would benefit the most from the democratizing 

potential of new technology do not have access to it." 

The problem I have here is the assumption of benefit. Of course, from my perspective, political situations and living conditions are not acceptable in many areas of the world. But it is not up to me to decide what is best for anyone else, rather, it is for the residents themselves. Yes, this is a naive view; of course there are myriad situations that prevent people from deciding things or making changes for themselves, but let us not storm in waving our flags of "information for all." Stating that a certain nation/society needs more access to technology and information so they can stop "X or Y" is the wrong pretense; let those who have access simply help the dissemination of infrastructure and training and let that society determine how they use it.

Sourbati's comes closest to saying this in her conclusion: "Provision of assistance by 'proxy' users, who can mediate access to media services for those  individuals or groups who cannot cultivate media literacy capacities under their current life circumstances, is likely to be an important dimension of such an approach." 

I Coulda Been A Contenda

I'm happy to report I've actually made it through one semester of going back to school. Granted, I took one class, but new life experiences sometimes require baby steps. Sure, my team "lost" in our presentation to the client, and I'm fairly uncertain of the grade I'll get in this class, but I sit here now -- in all my post-final-presentation glory -- and look back with satisfaction.

What I've learned:
1) There's more to social media than tweeting about your lunch. Facebook and Twitter can exponentially help or hinder your brand. Be smart about how you use these platforms. Know what's going on in the background and what "allowing" a Facebook app really means for you and your information. Knowing the implications of posting/saying/linking something on any social media platform is key to using them successfully. Why? Watch the 7-second video below:

 2) Group work and clients - you never know what you're going to get. By the grace of our professorly overlords, I was in a group who worked really well together. Would I have rather been on my own for a project? Yep. Am I a control freak? Sure thing. Does the real world let you work by yourself all the time? Ah, nope. So yes, I get why groupwork is important. And about clients: Good ideas sometimes don't have a place in their reality. Knowing the full scope of the reality of your client will help you deiver a product they can use. I believe our group had a pretty solid "big idea," the trouble is, that big idea didn't fit in with what the client could best sell to the bosses. No matter how much the medicine will help, you can't make the clients take it. Sometimes, you have to treat the symptoms instead. Our group made the medicine and we can hope they'll take it -- someday.

3) My social graph is what I want it to be. Before this class, I struggled with my digital identity and what it should be. Facebook was for friends and my "IRL" folks, while Twitter was for the connections I'd made with my faceless crew - my digital editing friends, knitting circles, etc. I had a hard time reconciling the two sides - one was definitely more anonymous (Twitter), while the other one was what I wanted people to see about me and my life. What did I learn? It's OK to focus certain channels at certain facets of your digital identity. 

4) I coulda been a contenda. Or, at least a know-enough-to-be-dangerous programmer. Little did I know that this class would take me into my very own hell known as Object-Oriented Programming. With the introduction to App Inventor, we were able to create basic, mobile apps. Now, this Google Labs products is headed out to the big world of open source (and Google is closing its service as of Dec. 31) - read more about that news here. I've always been fairly technically inclined, but having no programming experience like this made for a challenge. A big challenge. I learned I really enjoy the technical side of this digital media stuff, but am not ever going to be a developer. I think the creative side needs to know a bit about how the "other side" works so the two can communicate better. This foray into codeland was truly interesting. Am I glad I won't see App Inventor again? You bet your boots I am. But in the end, ours was one of the only groups with a functional app. We were so proud. And we still lost... cue the next video:

 5) Use it for good. With digital media comes the risk of negativity. Since it's such an immediate entity, allowing you to instantly communicate or react to pretty much anything that's out there, you run the risk of typing before you think. We should all take to heart the immortal words from the SpiderMan comic, "with great power comes great responsibility." With digital media, it's no different: Make sure what you're putting out there is really what you want someone to see with your name by it.

Social Media is Not for Dummies

Over this past weekend, I learned far more about water valves -- and the importance of exercising them -- than I ever thought possible. Actually, I never thought about water valves, so it makes this past weekend's adventure even that much more bizarre. And considering I use the word "thingy" as a technical term, you'll see why the idea of me working on marketing the machinery in this video is a pretty hilarious thought (video courtesy of Valve Boss and YouTube).

As a naive student at the beginning of the semester, my altruistic self volunteered to help Baton Rouge Entrepreneurship Week (BREW) promote their cause through social media. Three other members of my class volunteered, too. We divided up the week's events and decided who would attend what. We were to be social media reporters, sitting quietly in the background, updating Facebook and Twitter with gems pulled from these talks/luncheons/workshops/etc.

Or so, I thought. On Friday, I show up to Startup Weekend, a 52-hour event where smart people bring their smart ideas to develop with the help of the other smart people who've shown up, to set up my laptop and dutifully report on the night's events. And then I was participating. My plan of coming back for a few hours on Saturday and Sunday to report on the developments changed to helping a man named John Singleton refine his pitch and marketing tactics for his baby, The Valve Boss.

I spent 21 hours over the next 2.5 days working with this team of strangers who had come together at this event. And in the end, we were winners. Not First Place, Blue Ribbon-type winners, but winners because John's pitch resulted in him winning three months of office space at Springboard, a co-working space in downtown Baton Rouge (slated to open this December), where other entrepreneurs and experts will gather and help each other through advice and expertise. Were we the most dynamic, digital team there? Not by a long shot. Did each of us learn something? Heck, yes.

Many people discount social media's power, or worse, assume any well-trained pet could figure it out. This weekend, through all the flying hastags (#) promoting new product ideas, real people came together -- in person -- to help each other succeed. Real, smart people. And through it, I helped someone understand its use, complexity, and power a little more clearly.

How did I help John? I helped, along with another teammate, explain the importance of his Facebook page and Twitter account. He already had them, but wasn't sure how to use them effectively. As a result of this weekend, his Twitter handle (@ValveBoss) has multiplied its followers three-fold, and his Facebook page (which I checked in on today), has new posts and videos to share as well as a new description of the product based on the repositioning we worked on this weekend. I feel like a proud Mama whose child has listened to her advice. It's not a sexy product, so who but a Mama could love a face like this: 

(photo from The Valve Boss)

Facebook Makes Me Laugh

Usually my status updates on Facebook are meant to give people a taste of my keen sense of humor. Sometimes they offer my witty observations of life, but mostly they're talking about the husband's antics, or those of the cats. It's a quip that marks what my life was like at a specific moment in time. What surprises me, though, is how people react.

Take, for example, a popular post:

My husband was wearing his ridiculous lounge wear with the stylish addition of a pot holder. Why a pot holder? Because the mug of hot cocoa he microwaved became too hot. Why not a pot holder might be a better question. Posts like this garner the most responses from my bizarre network of friends and family. In this post, nine people liked it and 14 felt the need to comment.

Enter the cat:

People on the Internet love pictures of cats, that's been made clear. Nine people liked this picture, too, but a different nine people than those who liked the husband-sporting-a-pot-holder photo.

Upon scrolling through my Facebook wall for the past few months, I've come to a few conclusions:

1. I do not go to Facebook to share "real" news about myself. People in my Facebook world want light, fluffy musings and I am happy to give that to them. I do not go on to Vaguebook about life trials and injustices. There's enough of that crap. And if it's really important that you know about something, I'll call you.
2. Part, if not most, of my online "brand" is my sense of humor. Life happens, and as Jimmy Buffett would say, "If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane" (horse's mouth at 1:07). I believe that you get what you give, so giving off post after post of negativity will only make fewer people listen when I have something to say. Not good to drive away your potential audience, right?
3. People are more apt to respond to a picture with a cat, than a picture without one. The exception is including a picture of the husband in a funny scenario. Combine the two and you get a new level of comment glory:

The difference is people still talk about this picture to us in person. While there were four comments on the picture and four likes, we've had multiple friends bring this up when we run into them in real life. What did I learn from that? Humor is memorable. Work it in to your daily life not only for your own sanity, but with the knowledge that it may help people remember you some day. Only (ok mostly) good things can come of that, right?

Tweeting from the Id

I'm helping, along with three other folks, to promote Baton Rouge Entrepreneurship Week through social media. At first, I thought, "What in the world have I gotten myself into?" Now I'm thinking, "How do I love Tweetdeck, let me count the ways..."(Seriously,  I can schedule a week's worth of tweets at once and then not have to remember to tweet at specific times. Brilliant stuff.)

Through a class I'm taking at LSU, and through talking with these PR and Tourism professionals about this week-long event, I've discovered being the "voice" of an organization on a social media account is kind of up my alley. I suppose it goes back to my newspaper days and writing what we called refers. (Not pronounced as "a doctor refers a patient," but as "hey, I never would have guessed your Dad smoked reefer in the '70s"). Refers are those little gems found on a section front of a newspaper that -- appropriately -- refer you to other stories or information inside the paper. These nuggets of personality and wisdom were anonymous - no bylines or photo credits. And they were generally my favorite things to write.

Being one of the voices for @BREW_2011 on Twitter (and for the organization's Facebook page) has brought me back to the days of writing short, informative quips that are designed to grab your attention and gain your interest. These quips come from a special side of  my brain, the part that can boil things down to its essential ingredients with just enough snark to - I hope - make people either turn to that page or click on that link. Freud called that part of my brain (the dark, desire-centered part) the Id. Tweeting from the Id works for me. And apparently it works for the masses, too. I saw this tweet in my newsfeed this past weekend and laughed at humanity:

What' I've learned is not only does your message on social media  have to have "meat" to it (good information), it has to be engaging and, preferably, funny. People gravitate toward funny and informative. They retweet funny. They follow informative. If my Id can continue to think of snarky things and turn it into a conversational tweet, then I'm fairly certain my help for the BREW project will be useful. And it can only help this sweet digital brand o' mine in the long run, too.