This summer, I will be experimenting with my relationship to
digital communication. While my job requires my constant use of computers, I
have fallen into patterns of behavior regarding digital media that are, if not
unhealthy, at least ubiquitous, in a way I want to understand better. Unlike
the students I teach, I am a "digital immigrant"; that is, I can
recall what life was like before our new means of communication and connection
suddenly became commonplace. While not resorting to ludditeism, this summer I
am excited to disengage from a number of digital platforms. This short explanation
is not complete, as this experiment is fluid, and may change depending which
way both literal and metaphorical winds blow.
One of my most prolific times as a writer came in the early
2000s, while I pursued a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing degree at
Goddard College. I had only dial-up Internet, and my academic work was sent via
US Mail-- heaps of poetry, and revisions-- across the country to California,
where poet and educator Juliana Spahr made corrections, wrote out
questions longhand, and sent the packet back to me. The process was quaint and
truly analog, and I wrote furiously to meet the packet deadlines. I filled
journals with shards of poems and refined them on the computer. Connecting to
the Internet-- and to the slog of email, job applications, and news-- was a premeditated event: something I did before I got back to the actual
act of writing. My graduation from the program in the summer of 2004 marked the
end of an era, not only personally and professionally, but in terms of how I
was a part of a larger digital infrastructure. In the years that followed, I
embraced new means of connectivity (cell phone, Facebook) as best I could
afford, and, like many, without question.
During the summer of 2016, I am
interested in creating an artificial version of that state of creativity, while
acknowledging that fully eluding our digital networks is, for practical (personal
and professional) purposes, impossible. My intention this summer is to make more
conscious choices about my state of connectedness. I look forward to literally
losing what seems to be (is soon becoming?) an instinct to share what's going
on in front of one's face with a larger audience, or perhaps the entire
connected world.
I am not interested in swearing off technology completely--
far from it. Indeed, living on the New England coast for just over three
months, will, to me, require very specialized and unique inventions (these
include a Wadley Loop shortwave radio, a Royal typewriter, a 35mm camera with
70-300mm lens, and a geodesic dome shelter). I am not interested in wholly abandoning
connection to the digital platforms with which we communicate, but rather selectively
choosing how and why I can be in touch with someone else. To be in touch with
friends and family, I will carry my cell phone on a regular basis during the
evenings, but my use will be limited to voice calls and text messages with
friends and family. While I will be able to send and receive text messages, my
mobile device will be used primarily as a phone. I will take photographs, but
immediate sharing is not an option.
My Facebook page will be dormant beginning on Memorial Day
weekend and through at least Labor Day weekend. The temporary relief from
Facebook cannot be underestimated: the platform has become a central depository
for personal, professional, political, and romantic interests to such an extent
that, for me, life without its regular interaction seems awkward. The Facebook
and Messenger app will be uninstalled from my phone, as will all other apps that
promote the immediate sharing of text, images, or video to a larger audience.
(Footnote: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and others qualify
as what Matt Drudge defines as "cyber-ghettos," and his
characterization has in part spurred this experiment. In a surprise interview
with Alex Jones on October 8, 2015, Drudge explained how these apps allow users
to generate free content, in support of for-profit corporations: "“This is ghetto, this is corporate,
they’re taking your energy and you’re getting nothing in return – nothing!”
(as cited by Watson, 2015)).
I am not bringing
any television or other digital media players for entertainment. Rather, I have
a trove of live recordings on cassette tapes, the aforementioned shortwave
radio, and a Sony Walkman. I intend on watching television only in passing; I
don't have any plans for accessing streaming media on a regular basis. I will
have access to a Chromebook, but this device is meant for the production of
second drafts alone; that is, the retyping and editing of longhand script or
typewritten pages.
At any point, due
to personal, professional, or other crises, these guidelines may be
discontinued. The notion of a "#ScreenlessSummer" may or may not prove
useful in the coming months. I hope that this experiment promotes a sense of
creativity and accomplishment worth nurturing.
Watson, P. (6
Oct. 2015). "Matt Drudge: Copyright Laws Could Outlaw Linking to
Websites." InfoWars. Retrieved from http://www.infowars.com/matt-drudge-copyright-laws-could-outlaw-linking-to-websites/
