This week in class we discussed communication. Actually, we discuss communication every week. That tends to happen in a class titles “Social Stratification.” If some hapless student were to wander into our class at any given moment, it would look like chaos. Desks are scraped across linoleum floors to create something that we intended to look like a circle, but really resembles a misshapen uterus. Cell phones and laptops are splayed across surfaces. One student has pulled two desks together and is lying on her stomach, propped up on a worn backpack. Another has opted to crouch in her chair as the conversation flies back and forth, multiple steams of communication operating at the same time. The professor is pulling a clip up on YouTube about privacy and how cctv’s are documenting our every move. A vlogger is giving a tutorial on how to use makeup to avoid being recognized on said cctv’s. In another corner of the circle two students are madly searching their social media feeds to find that one item that relates directly to the class. In the opposite corner a lone student sits with their eyes closed and earphones in, taking a moment to focus.

It looks like chaos.

So does communication on the internet.

Yet, it is all connected.

Connected by fine lines and blips of information that come and go, the chaos within the room is broken up by small periods where everything intersects and we all burst out in laughter at a miscommunication due to the dual use of the spoken words gays vs gaze. Here the communications between 10 vastly different people collides and spills forth in a bubble of excitement as the verbal wires that crossed untangle for a split second and we are all brought together in the solidarity that brought us to this place.

This is the level of communication that is used now across the globe. Our communications cross and intersect, mashed into a mess and then one by one we unravel the chaos and come to understand the way that all of our communication comes down to one small intent.

This is how I view social stratification. Global stratification is causing us to cross our wires and misunderstand but over time the strands are separated, organized and understood, solving whatever problem was at hand. It’s social poetry, the decoding of humanity. It’s beautiful.

What About No?

As part of my course work, I have embarked on an unusual adventure. My son and I have started a YouTube Channel together, "What About No?"

For Conroy, this is his first foray into the world of social media. He had been begging me to get him set up on YouTube for months. I finally agreed, but on one condition, that we do it together. This experience will be the primary subject of my final research paper for my Social Stratification class, and by the time we are done with this little experiment, Conroy should be ready to launch his own channel with some sense of agency. Enjoy the channel, and watch us as we explore the world of vlogging. 

My Internet "Addiction" and How You Too Can Become "Addicted"

"In 1995, psychiatrist Ivan Goldberg coined the term internet addiction disorder. He wrote a satirical essay about “people abandoning their family obligations to sit gazing into their computer monitor as they surfed the Internet.” Intending to parody society’s obsession with pathologizing everyday behaviors, he inadvertently advanced the idea."(Boyd, 81)

One September, I sat in a college classroom and listened to a middle aged man lecture us on the beast that was internet addiction. At this point in time it was still unusual to see rows of students with laptops open in front of them, and even more unusual to see someone on campus with a cellphone in hand. I can only recall one classmate with a laptop that has a color screen, and most who did have personal computers in their dorm rooms has basic word processors that were capable only of creating and printing assignments. The college I attended had one computer lab, and here we could access the internet in order to email family and friends, or to type essays. I, however, had been raised in a computer friendly home and therefore knew how to access chat rooms.

The institution I attended was located in the middle of Manitoba, in a tiny town that housed the college, a post office and a curling rink, this access was my only link to the outside world. If you didn't own a car you were pretty much relegated to dorm life 24/7. Trips off campus were few and far between, unless you managed to find the keys to a friend’s car and 'borrowed' it for a couple hours, but that is another post altogether. As the lecturer went on to explain internet addiction, he listed off a few of the signs that you might be addicted to the internet. I mentally checked off the list faster than he could verbalize it, and decided that I was indeed one of the hapless teenagers who had been lost to the web. It didn't change anything. I still spent hours in the computer lab, happily chatting with people that I was meeting online and immersing myself in their worlds, often when I had had enough of the one that I currently inhabited. Why?

For many years I have dumbed down the answer, shrugged my shoulders and blamed it on my 'addictive personality,' as though this gave me some kind of free pass to engage in online media as I currently do without asking any more questions or seeking more answers. However, in the above quote, the year 1995 triggered something in my brain, and I realized that I had attended that first year of college in 1997, just two years after the initial indication that internet addiction might be a thing. Although internet addiction was not conclusively proven, someone told me that I was addicted, and I believed them without ever questioning how they arrived at that conclusion. 

From where I am sitting now, the answer has shifted. In 1997 I was 18 and had just moved from a large city that I roamed at will, to a small town where I had very few outlets for interaction outside of the area. My internet usage spiked dramatically that year. The second time I would experience this kind of isolation would be when I was put on bedrest while pregnant with my first child. Again, my internet usage went up, as I found myself alone and longing to connect with someone between Oprah and Ellen. I still use social media heavily on a daily basis, though the majority of that is related to my employment. At the same time, I think that if I were to re-enter a state of social isolation, my usage rates would likely go up again. What drives this is not my desire to engage in screen time, but my desire to engage. Why do I need to engage? Am I that uncomfortable with myself that I can't just be alone and be comfortable in that space? Truthfully? I like to be alone. I like being alone in body, but not in thought. While I dislike being physically connected and often experience the feeling of being touched-out[1], I also thrive on endless conversation and the exchange of information. This is where the internet becomes an incredibly attractive place for me. 

As far as the concept of internet addiction goes, the second half of the quote that I started this post with was what triggered my questioning of my own acceptance of my supposed internet addiction: "Goldberg responded critically when academics began discussing internet addiction as a legitimate disorder: “I don’t think Internet addiction disorder exists any more than tennis addictive disorder, bingo addictive disorder, and TV addictive disorder exist. People can overdo anything. To call it a disorder is an error.” (Boyd, 81-82)

Someone should have said that to my professor in 1997.

References

Boyd, D. (2014). It's Complicated, The Social Lives of Networked Teens. New Haven: Yale University Press.

---

[1] Touched-Out: A common phenomena that occurs when an individual spends a large amount of time touching or being touched by those around them. A person who is touched-out will express a desire to refrain from touch for a period of time in order to regain a sense of agency within their own physical sphere. 

I Have Three Blogs and You Can't Stop Me

It's not a challenge, just a fact.

I have three blogs. Each blog was created at different point in space and time. My first blog, which is no longer in existence, was created around 2005, when I had my first child. It was filled with all kinds of mother-ish banter about babies, kids and my newfound existence as a stay at home mom. I deleted it one day in a fit of futility laced emotions and the realization that I had nothing to say that had not been said a thousand times over by a thousand other mommy bloggers. My second blog, Tales from the Reluctant Mom, was launched in January of 2007 and continued on the same path as the first, only with a more diary a day approach. By this point I no longer wanted to communicate with those outside my social circle, but with those friends and family who were not geographically close. My third blog, Buffy Bo Peep, was created to showcase the diaper bags I began sewing in 2008. Now, I have created Sociology Student on the Verge, formerly Hieroglyph Now[1], as part of an assignment for my Sociology class.

Although each of these blogs served a different purpose, they remained centered on the use of online material designed to connect and communicate with various audiences. My subjects changed, as did the modes, but in the end every word, photograph and video was created to relay thoughts and ideas. This blog will be no different. I expect, however, to pose a great many more questions here than what is my norm. In the past I tried to ask as few questions as possible, preferring to provide answers prior to posting. It turns out, I was not only failing to ask the correct questions, but failing to provide correct answers as a result. This time, I am asking all the questions.

---

[1] Hieroglyph Now was created for the purpose of a class as well, though not for this class. At the time I was studying Art History and was focused on the influences of street art in Egypt. Although this subject is removed academically, it is still centered on communication, and for that reason I have elected to keep the original blog posts.