This weekend I had the opportunity to attend and participate in an 'unconference' called THATCamp. THATCamp started a few years ago, and seeks to be a participatory, informal conference about the humanities and technology. As someone who doesn't identify in either of those categories initially, I was drawn to this conference because the theme was narrowed to one of social justice. Ahha. An entry point!
With my very tech-y colleagues in tow, I came to this conference not knowing exactly what to expect. There was a large emphasis on gaming and video games as ways to teach social justice. Having not attended those workshops or sessions, I can say with confidence that I know as little now about what that means as when I went began the conference! Other topics included: gender, humanities, technology; technology and activism on the ground; "dusty" digital archives; new games, new spaces; developing curriculum; pedagogy (formal/informal), GIS and the geoweb, and then a variety of workshops: fast-mapping, community archiving using Omeka, and then 2 workshops of games that I can't recall.
As a token geographer in the 'geoweb' group, I had an interesting moment of performativity. I have not often felt like I had a lot in common with Sarah's other advisees. However, I could hold my own in a room of people that didn't know much. I answered questions, I provided interesting prompts. One of my colleagues even said in response to my comment, "I'm still so new to all of this", "well, Elyse, you wouldn't know!" How encouraging! To a room full of non-geographers, questions of mapping, access, expertise, curricular development, privacy, maintenance, legitimacy, accuracy, and potentials for social change were new and exciting. I suddenly wore the hat of expert, even when discussing non-expert knowledge production. Hrm.
Another issue was raised that day, during the training on Omeka. Omeka is a web-based tool to allow for archiving of community material. Interestingly, it is designed by people that understand how scholars need to present their work as 'valuable' to committees and tenure reviewers. So, this is both meant to serve community histories and archives, but also meant to stand in as work that 'counts'. During this training, one of the organizers brought up questions of time. To really participate with a community in a way that avoids "hit and run research", we need to give it time to develop relationships. You cannot rush this part, and it could take . . . wait for it. . . years.
But wait a minute?! I thought we were supposed to finish our PhD in 4 years, right Sarah Elwood? Right Katharyne Mitchell?
How could I possibly invest the time and energy in my communities, in a way that isn't exploitative and not invasive, and still finish my PhD in a timely manner? Is this even a possibility? What am I giving up if I don't? Do I have to change my research question, or can I just act like it doesn't matter?
There is obviously a danger here of "paralysis by analysis". I want to do research, I want to proceed with the projects that are exciting to me. I want to do fieldwork, and I don't want to limit myself to reading, just because I can't make a longstanding commitment to an organization. One of the reasons this question of temporality is so interesting to me is because of questions of knowledge production and technology. In my vision of my dissertation work, I see this: an interactive multimedia website, with videos (when condoned by youth), audio tapes, written transcripts, alongside insights by community organizations about goals and programming. In this format, there is a huge question and issue of representation. In my mind, this project would allow organizations to better serve youth, by incorporating youth insights and knowledge. But, then the question is raised, how do I know that these youth even want this? Do they consider themselves in solidarity with youth from other parts of the country? How do young people of color and low-income youth in our country's cities consider their roles in shaping social change? Would a website like this accurately reflect their goals and wants? Or is it another case of the researcher sticking their nose in where it isn't wanted?
Ok, ok. Paranoid graduate student moment aside, these are all valid questions, and ethically MUST be considered before starting research. Then again, can't I also look back at this research motivation and know that it is for the greater good (whatever that means)? That part of the skill sharing and collaboration that comes from the university is the fact that I can take this outside perspective and try and garner a holistic vision of research with farther reaching impacts?
So, I left the conference fearful that I could never really be at peace, never be one of those deeply committed scholar-activists who has invested the time (at their own career's expense, perhaps), in order to really embrace their collaborative position within communities. Am I at odds with that potential self? I feel as though that's just not in my cards. I lack patience, I have too much ambition, and I also feel like it is an inauthentic version of my self. Maybe that's because I didn't grow up in diverse community that required listening and collaboration in this sense. I came to that quite late, in college, with few tools. I'm still building that toolkit, in fact. (aren't we all)
Well, there is no quick resolution to this point. I do know I don't want to be in graduate school for 10 years. No, no. That doesn't sound good at all. I suppose this is something to consider throughout my time here, to chew over and mull over and take guidance from people around me. But worth considering, all the same.
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