Politics of Representation: an in depth look at philanthropic organizations working abroad

“Teach all the time, even sometimes with your words.”  This is a quote I received in my first yoga teacher training in June of 2013 and I have taken it with me throughout my journey ever since.  In April of 2014, I found myself in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya, doing none other than teaching yoga.  I was there to spread the practice—the practice that had given me strength in my weakest moments, the practice that empowered me to live into my greatest version of myself, the practice that eased my daily trivial worries.  I could not have been more excited.  We were on a 14-day journey with over 100 participants from over 21 different, mostly African, nations. One night, early on in the training, I was sitting with a participant, and we were trying to get to know each other.  He was telling me about his family and how he grew up amongst his brothers and cousins.  He told me about an organization he was a part of, Free the Children, and how he felt so fortunate to have been selected to be an integral part of it.  He explained how this organization reached out to him in their attempt to have youth empower youth and that his skill set and ability to teach yoga afforded him this opportunity as an agent of change, which he took, traveling across the country, speaking to youth and holding yoga sessions.  Through his words and tangible passion for the organization, it was clear that this very ability to serve was what was filling him up and driving him.   Fracie Ostrower notes that “Philanthropy grows out of a donor’s sense of identity” (Ostrower, 6), which suggests that people give to causes they are passionate about.  People give because they believe they have something that can and should be shared.  People give because they have something to give.  In the participant’s case, he had a learned skill set and a practice that had changed his life.  And with that, he gave back.

In this post, I will explore the practice of philanthropy through the lens of the nonprofit organization, Africa Yoga Project (AYP), which will serve as a case study for charitable organizations doing work abroad in general.  Philanthropy abroad is an extremely complex issue with many layers as to correctness and overall helpfulness.  My aim in this study is to break apart just a few of the layers, speaking to the complexities and offer potential ways to alleviate common issues. I will mainly focus on the ways in which these organizations garner support and the politics of representation.  I will also touch on how misrepresentation often invokes misaligned intentions and needs between organizations and the people they are serving.  As a participant in AYP and philanthropy more broadly, I have a definite shared responsibility in all of the critiques and arguments that ensue in this post regarding participation in and intentions of philanthropic organizations.  It is a collective responsibility to question the philanthropic standards by which we often blindly follow as a means to “get involved.”  My intention for this post, therefore, is to draw to light on some of these conundrums as I see them to open conversation around how we collectively can do better.

I want to focus on philanthropic organizations abroad that aim to control and reform the communities in which they work.  This control and “fixing” comes in different forms and the necessity to fix is rooted back to the colonial times in Africa, placing the “burden” on colonists to change the ways of life in Africa. In his book Global Shadows, James Ferguson talks about how the continent of Africa is spoken of, “in terms of crisis: as a place of failure and seemingly insurmountable problems, as a moral challenge to the international community” (Ferguson, 2).  Often the true social realities within Africa are overlooked as Africa’s place in the contemporary world is glossed over as seemingly helpless.  The outpour of “support” or “help” can often further marginalize populations as they seek to “make claims of membership within a global community” (Ferguson, 3).  There is this idea that aid is often the disease for which it aims to cure. Thinking back to the idea of needing to have in order to give and considering that power dynamics and domination stems from one group being seen as lesser or inferior, it is interesting to think about how organizations with intentions to help often inadvertently subjugate people even further.

The Africa Yoga Project organization was founded in 2007 in one of the poorest parts of Nairobi, Kenya.  The mission rests on these three questions: Could yoga positively transform lives across race, nationality, age, gender and economic status? Would yoga be valued when offered at no cost to the student? Can people who are struggling to survive, who live in an unstable environment, and who have little food to eat, utilize yoga to transform their perception of their lives and their sense of what is possible for the future? In the past seven years, AYP has trained and currently employs nearly 100 yoga teachers, mainly in Kenya, but spreading across the continent. Teachers are required to teach free outreach classes—a lot of teachers teach in the communities they grew up in or in orphanages, prisons, hospitals, or other places.  More than 350 outreach classes are taught each week, reaching over 6,000 locals.

From AYP sources and promotional material, it seems that most of the AYP teachers come from a troubled youth plagued by drugs, theft, and gang related violence. Part of the narrative AYP creates around the participants is that they feel as though yoga has served as an outlet for them, in a sense empowering them to live a life much bigger than the one they were living or the one they saw themselves deserving of.  As referenced in the participant’s story at the beginning of my paper, gaining the skill set and ability to teach yoga opened doors for these at-risk youth and gave them sustainable jobs and opportunity within their communities.  Many note that they now see themselves and are seen by others as leaders and teachers.

Many NGOs that work abroad and specifically in parts of Africa enter into a region with a purpose.  They aim to alleviate specific hardships some of which include disease, hunger, sanitation, war, unrest, and the likes.  With most of these NGOs, their purpose maintains a sense of urgency or emergency—it is a necessity or at least a seeming necessity from an outsider’s perspective.  Emergency draws participation—people want their time, money, and efforts to have tangible effects.  Looking at Africa Yoga Project as a case study provides an interesting dimension to this, as AYP is an NGO that provides a service with seemingly little sense of emergency.  Relatively speaking and from surface value, there are much larger fixes necessary in Nairobi than what is provided through the practice of yoga.  Thus, igniting enthusiasm and support behind this, aside from Westerners who actively participate in the practice of yoga, is difficult.  AYP does a really interesting job spreading the word and garnering support.  They use social media—Facebook and Instagram—as well as their website to share updates.  Another big way they garner support is through special highlights by other organizations or news sources.  Articles have been written on them and numerous videos have been made made, documenting the projects and outreach the organization is spearheading.  They have been featured on CNN, BBC News, NPR, CBS, Yoga Journal, Elephant Journal, and various television news networks.  These sources provide insight to outsiders about the work and lives of participants, however, often, participants are misrepresented.

One video of Africa Yoga Project that has been spread to represent the organization and ignite involvement is titled Practice: Change the Africa Yoga Project Story. From the tone and imagery of the video, it seems like the intended audience is current and potential supports of the organization.  The video begins with somewhat solemn, tribal music playing, as the scene is set.  The first image we see is a pan of a walk through the slums of Nairobi—there are shacks, wild goats and dogs eating from the mountains of trash, children in awe of the camera and assumingly the person behind the lens, people sleeping in the trash piles as children dig through them, and ragged laundry hanging on lines.  Almost two minutes pass before any words are spoken (or really any person is shown in detail) and the first words spoken are, “No water,” as a young man fails to fill up his bucket from the faucet.  For a video promoting yoga in Kenya, this introduction seems a bit out of place.  The entire video is 7 minutes and 48 seconds, so a two plus minute introduction seems excessive and leaves the question of what purpose this video is serving—is it in fact promoting yoga in Kenya or is it extenuating a feeling of helplessness, desperation, and savageness in Nairobi?

The video then moves to a classroom setting, panning to the learning visuals on the walls.  It seems like the aspects of the classroom and environment with the starkest difference from what the intended viewer is used to seeing are highlighted and reiterated over and over again.  The classroom has dirt floors, old desks, and walls made of scraps of aluminum.  The paintings on the walls are incredibly primitive with things like colors and pictures of household items and animals with the English name written beneath.  It also seems like the people in the video who come from AYP and the people behind the lens are treated as celebrities.  The kids surround them, in a sense begging for attention.  There is a distinct hierarchy established—like the reference to the participant at the beginning of the paper, in order to share a skill, one must have a skill.  In order to give, one must have.

This idea of a hierarchy and a sense of having something that another does not draws an interesting parallel to representation in general and the idea of privilege.  Lauren Kascak and Sayantani Dasgupta write in their article, #InstagrammingAfrica: The Narcissism of Global Voluntourism, that photography is in fact a tool of power.  They write:

On these trips, we hide behind the lens, consuming the world around us with our powerful gazes and the clicking of camera shutters. When I directed this photo opportunity and starred in it, I used my privilege to capture a photograph that made me feel as though I was engaging with the community.  Only now do I realize that what I was actually doing was making myself the hero/star in a story about “suffering Africa” (Kascak and Dasgupta).

Without providing much tangible help, outsiders often leave with a feeling of having done something.  There is often a feeling of “box checked off, hands clean, my work here is done” that accompanies voluntourism—a new, controversial idea of traveling to third world countries to “give back” for a week. Kascak and Dasgupta reference the “feeling” of engagement that so often plagues philanthropic work—photography and documentation can serve as a crutch to portray a story that the representer or “hero” wants spread, which is often at the expense of the representer or misaligned with the true outcome.

At the very start of the AYP video, the camera is following a white man on his assumed first visit to the slums of Nairobi.  It is interesting to think about how this leaves the intended audience—assumingly white Western supporters—feeling. I thought it was interesting that there was a white man walking, clearly not from there, and he was being filmed as he stepped through other people’s homes.  He was leaving his mark in this community and “helping.”  Then all of a sudden, the man disappears from the video.  The controversy around voluntourism and really global aid in general is that outsiders come in, experience what they experience and help where they help, and then they leave.   The poverty and the issues persist, yet the outsider walks away with this video and photographic proof that he indeed was there, experienced it, and helped.

white man copy 2

Screenshot of man walking through slums

 

This also brings up racial divides. Specifically speaking to many parts of Africa and certainly Kenya, the white man is an anomaly. Automatically, he is seen as different and as an outsider, often creating intrigue around background and status from locals. Stemming from colonial times, the white man entered regions with a seeming “fix-it” mentality, possessing something that the other did not. There is an often-noted engrained mentality that the white person, or “muzungu” as the Kenyans would say, has something to give and a sense of privilege to be able to give—a seeming hallmark of the skin color. This was apparent in the April teacher training—on the last day of training, the American participants left gifts for the Kenyans (things like yoga clothes, mats and other props). This was not an exchange of goods, but rather almost an expected charitable gift. Interestingly throughout the training, participants were encouraged to see the similarities amongst each other, following the idea that everyone was more similar than different. Yet, by the end of the training, privilege and a distinct heirarchy appeared from both sides—the Kenyans held an expectation as the Americans fulfilled it.

Returning to representation through media, images captured abroad often come in two forms: either as depictions of someone different from oneself, capturing the sense of wonder that accompanies differences or the unknown, or as the outsider as the focal point of the image.  Both seem to be problematic.  First, an outsider capturing an image highlights what he/she feels is most important—in the AYP video, maybe for the first two minutes, this was an image of trash-ridden streets and abject poverty.  Second, an outsider as the focal point of the image, as in Kascak and Dasgupta’s reference, depicts the outsider as the “hero/star in a story about ‘suffering Africa.’”  Kascak and Dasgupta write, “Capturing this image and posting it on the Internet is to understand the Other not as a separate person who exists in the context of their own family or community, but rather as a prop, an extra, someone only intelligible in relation to the Western volunteer” (Kascak and Dasgupta, 1). It is pivotal to understand the represented in the context of his/her own life and own local world, and often a picture or video misses that as it is taken out of that local context and put into the worlds of others.  Arthur Kleinman writes extensively on the commodification of suffering.  He stresses how suffering, though sometimes collective in nature, is an individualized experience based on the local moral world of the individual—this is based on gender, age, class, ethnicity, subjectivity and many other factors. Generalizing suffering into a “representative” image, video or advertisement is extremely problematic, especially if the representer is an outsider to the local moral world that he or she is representing.

The issue with this type of representation is that the voices of the locals are lost through distorted, generalized representations that are used to garner attention and support rather than portray the true story of the individual. Kleinman writes about suffering at a distance:

This globalization of suffering is one of the more troubling signs of the cultural transformations of the current era: troubling because experience is being used as a commodity, and through this cultural representation of suffering, experience is being remade, thinned out, and distorted (Kleinman, 2).

The AYP video, as it begins panning through scenes of trash and poverty and continues as a “narrative” of the journey of specific AYP teachers, is told through the eyes of the person behind the lens.  It portrays the represented as the representer feels they should be seen.   On the realm of representation, it is important to recognize how limited an outsider’s view is on the real life of the people they are representing on social media and the likes, and yet how big of an impact their photograph or video can make on others who are even more removed.  It becomes a source of information and a truth for other outsiders.  When representation is skewed, this can become especially problematic because people do not know any better.

screenshot from end of video copy

Screenshot from end of video

 

As the AYP video continues, teachers appear, showing raw pain and emotion as they tell their stories. About two thirds of the way through the video, the entire energy shifts to one of hope and possibility. There is dancing and laughing. There is meditation and yoga practice. There is music and acrobatics. This last third of the video, in my opinion, is a true representation of Africa Yoga Project. Even in the slums of Kibera, the kids were smiling and expressing their gratitude and joy for our time together in outreach through the April teacher training. Having experienced first-hand the beauty in the work that AYP is doing, the video as a whole seems misrepresentative because of the beginning portion. Hopelessness and need were the furthest things from defining characteristics of the people of Nairobi and the communities that AYP reached, yet as an outsider, the overall image, aside from the last two minutes of the video, is one of just that. One must question what exactly is the intention for representing this community in this way. Is this a representation for the sake of accurately portraying these people and the work of the organization? Or is this video being used to invoke a response from supporters? And are these two questions mutually exclusive—is there a way to accurately represent a community and a people and simultaneously gain support from outsiders? Why do organizations like AYP feel the need to conform to a method of representation (or misrepresentation) that may in fact further subjugate the people they are aiming to help?

This brings up another big point on representation and the role of the outsider as a perpetrator of what they are representing.  Returning to the scenes in the AYP video of kids playing and sleeping in the piles of trash, or when the young man says no water as he tries to get water from the spout, what role does the person filming all of this play?  Why is he/she sitting there documenting instead of helping?  I spoke in a previous blog post to Kevin Carter’s photograph of a child peeled over, naked, unprotected and starving, in the middle of a desert, with a vulture seemingly about to attack her which gained a lot of public attention.  Kevin Carter, a white man from New York City who was visiting South Sudan for a short period of time, spent over 20 minutes trying to capture this “perfect” photo, and it paid off—he won multiple Pulitzer Prizes for his work. These awards are a seeming problem within themselves, as he is awarded at the expense of another’s suffering. However it is important to recognize the role of the representer as a perpetrator of the injustice he/she witnessed.  Kleinman quotes Carter as he spoke of his work photographing injustice, “You are making a visual here.  But inside something is screaming, ‘My God.’  But it is time to work.  Deal with the rest later….” (Kleinman, 6).  The inhumanity that often accompanies shock-invoking representation is concerning. The focal point of the image or video becomes just that—a focal point or a prop in a larger story of heroism on the part of the outsider—losing all sense of humanity. When a human is seen solely as an object or a prop, it is easy to neglect their voice and story, diminishing their story and complexities and leading to troubling misrepresentations.

Africa Yoga Project has released many videos documenting and raising awareness around the work they are doing.  Most of these videos highlight a specific AYP teacher and their story—how they got there, the obstacles they have encountered, and the likes.  What is interesting is that these videos span from over seven years ago to just this year, and yet in so many of them the same story is told.  There is a seeming collapse of time as a familiar story is told of initial helplessness and hardship to eventually finding yoga and standing in power.  It is important to consider whether or not that exact story is still central to the represented person’s life, to the point where that story becomes their most defining and illuminating one—at least in the sense that this is what the audience of these videos is seeing over and over again. The representer has the power to portray the represented in whatever light he or she feels fitting.  Stressing the negative aspects of one’s life may invoke a human emotional instinct to want to help or to want to know more—the “shock factor”—but at the same time, the story that is told through the videos or photographs is often the only exposure the outsider will get to the life of the insider.  The acts of violence that plagued their previous years of life are following them as they are now defined by these stories.  They become what Kleinman terms them, “trauma stories.” These trauma stories are glorified and then used as a commodity, as a means of exchange both in emotion like pity and monetary support.  For an organization that rests on themes of empowerment and elevation, a persistent portrayal of AYP teachers in the light of a sufferer or victim seems to inhibit any progress that is made by the program from an outsider’s perspective.

This brings up the idea of the “suffering other.”  Kascak and Dasgupta write, “Images of distant, suffering women and children suggest there are communities incapable of or uninterested in caring for its own people” (Kascak and Dasgupta, 1). Even just one photograph of suffering creates a negative projection on an entire community—one person’s suffering is a communal failing and even further, a negation of the progress a community has made. Ferguson writes in Global Shadows, “As Achille Mbembe puts it, ‘Africa as an idea, a concept, has historically served, and continues to serve, as a polemical argument for the West’s desperate desire to assert its difference from the rest of the world’” (Ferguson, 2). Africa as a continent is described by its absences and failings. It is seen as so vastly different from the Western world, so dark in comparison, and so needy of fixing and light. This characterization of “failure, inadequacy, passivity, fatalism, and inevitability” simply justifies colonialist ideals of endless help needed from outside the local setting (Kleinman, 7). Representing a suffering other gives power to the stereotypes that already exist about the “darkness” of the African continent—this becomes more and more problematic as people are misrepresented and stereotypes are needlessly perpetuated on false grounds.

As people are misrepresented, supporters give to a cause that is often not of the highest priority on the ground. When the local moral worlds of people being served are forgotten, the context into which the aid is provided is skewed. While the shocking atrocities that are represented in the media often garner increased attention and support, on a moral level and in relation to progress, they are problematic. In order to break this cycle and still gain support, cultural relevance as well as a respect of the local voices must be accounted for. There are limits to configuring social suffering as an economic indicator, commodifying the trauma stories heard so often. Suffering is an individualized experience—no two people feel the same reaction in their bodies and minds to the same atrocities. Thus, it is unjust and simply false to generalize suffering or even needs into one cookie cutter model of representation and fixing.

So much of this world currently relies on immediacy—immediacy in information, immediacy in action, immediacy in result. As our world continues to connect on more and more levels through globalization, human experience and thus human experience of suffering thins out. Stereotyping suffering through generalized representations (read: every person on the continent of Africa needs our help) puts people into categories, helping us to explain a complex world through oversimplification—giving us “answers” and quick fixes. However, most of these questions do not in fact have answers, or at least not direct ones. So many aspects factor into the experience of suffering, and there is no one answer or solution to a problem. Dambisa Moyo speaks directly to this in her book, Dead Aid, as she states that with more than a trillion dollars filtered into different parts of Africa, these countries have “been trapped in a vicious circle of corruption, market distortion and further poverty—and thus the ‘need’ for more aid” (Moyo, xix). Blind aid—the type of aid that so often floods into places with misrepresented people—is ineffective. It is ineffective because inaccurate, generalized representations often lead to inaccurate use of resources. It is thus important to recognize the individuality that accompanies suffering. It is also then important to recognize the individuality and specificity required to alleviate this suffering.

Other AYP videos:

 

Works Cited

“Africa Yoga Project Reflection.” Online interview. 22 Oct. 2014.

Baynton, Douglas C. The New Disability History. New York: New York UP, n.d. Print.

Ferguson, James. Global shadows: Africa in the neoliberal world order. Duke University  Press, 2006.

Feuerstein, Georg. “A Short History of Yoga.” SwamiJ. N.p., n.d. Web. 30 Nov. 2014.

James, Erica Caple. “The political economy of ‘trauma’in Haiti in the democratic era of     insecurity.” Culture, Medicine and Psychiatry 28.2 (2004): 127-149.

Kahn, Carrie. “As ‘Voluntourism’ Explodes in Popularity, Who’s It Helping Most?” Goats            and Soda. Npr, 31 July 2014. Web. 30 Nov. 2014.

Kascak, Lauren, and Sayantani Dasgupta. “#InstagrammingAfrica: The Narcissism of        Global Voluntourism.” Pacific Standard. The Science of Society, 19 June 2014.  Web. 30 Nov. 2014.

Kleinman, Arthur, and Joan Kleinman. “The appeal of experience; the dismay of images:   cultural appropriations of suffering in our times.” Daedalus (1996): 1-23.

Moyo, Dambisa. Dead aid: Why aid is not working and how there is a better way for        Africa. Macmillan, 2009.

O’Brien, Anne. “Charity and philanthropy.” Sydney Journal 1.3 (2008).

Ostrower, Francie. Why the wealthy give: The culture of elite philanthropy. Princeton         University Press, 1997.

Practice: Change The Africa Yoga Project Story. Dir. Dylan Trivette. Africa Yoga              Project. Vimeo, 2010. Web. 30 Nov. 2014.

 

Trying to Understand Ferguson (or a lack of it) on Facebook

In the days after Officer Darren Wilson shot and killed Michael Brown, an unarmed, black teenager in Ferguson, Missouri, Twitter exploded with news from protesters and journalists gassed, harassed and arrested by heavily armed police. Included in these tweets were complaints about the lack of reaction and Ferguson news on Facebook. Because I went to college in St. Louis, I have a number of St. Louis Facebook friends. I saw Ferguson posts in my Facebook timeline (though nothing compared to my Twitter feed), but only from the people who often express strong opinions on Facebook or who are involved in activism. Both my Facebook timeline and Twitter feed echoed my sadness and anger at the shooting of another unarmed, black teenager and at the police reaction to the protests. I knew other opinions existed, but I didn’t see them in my curated social media circles. When I encountered a white St. Louis resident’s (who is not a Facebook friend) indifference and annoyance with the protests in person, I started to wonder — were other St. Louis friends posting about Ferguson?

I started scouring friends’ timelines to see if and what people were posting. I saw a lot of posts about the ALS ice bucket challenge, and occasionally, a Ferguson post. Were people quiet on Facebook because they were unsure what to say, what they felt, or because talking about race is divisive? Were they waiting to learn more? Did they not care? In “The Trivial Pursuits of Mass Audiences Using Social Media,” Douglas A. Ferguson says, “People on Facebook are expected to be upbeat… people are positive or they choose to say nothing at all.”[1] Is this what was happening?

Protesters marched in St. Louis on October 11th as part of Ferguson October - http://www.democracynow.org/2014/10/13/thousands_march_in_ferguson_for_police

Protesters marched in St. Louis on October 11th as part of Ferguson October

To better understand why some people post about potentially controversial events like Ferguson on Facebook while others do not, I conducted a survey of St. Louis residents. The survey asked about how they engaged with the events in Ferguson, whether they posted about Ferguson, and why or why not. After reviewing data from 56 St. Louis area residents, I found a majority of participants had posted, “liked,” or commented on Ferguson; most of those who did not said it was because they do not share political opinions on Facebook. Research shows that Facebook’s algorithm tends toward more positive items in the newsfeed[2] and that people are less likely to voice an opinion if they think it will be unpopular[3]. I argue that both Facebook’s algorithm and the “spiral of silence” influenced the visibility of Ferguson-related posts on news feeds and that while many followed the Ferguson news and discussed the events in real life, those comfortable posting about Ferguson on Facebook tended to be more politically active in their lives offline; those less comfortable posting about it are hesitant to engage in arguments on social media; and in both cases, people’s existing biases and social networks guide their interaction on social media.[4]

Survey results

Map of where survey participants live. Multiple responses from the same neighborhood not shown.

Map of where survey participants live. Multiple responses from the same neighborhood not shown.

The survey was open to responses between October 31st and November 16th, in the three-month period between Michael Brown’s shooting and the announcement that the grand jury would not indict Darren Wilson. The survey was posted to Facebook and Twitter multiple times, and it was shared by others (11 times on Facebook, four times on Twitter). I posted it on Tumblr once and emailed it to friends in St. Louis and friends elsewhere with connections to the area. After removing one duplicated response and one response from someone living outside the St. Louis area, the survey pool comprised 56 participants. Of these 56, 51 listed Facebook as their preferred social media, four listed Twitter, and one person preferred Tumblr.

Forty-eight people identified as white, three as Asian, two as black, and one each as American Indian/Alaska Native and white, mixed-race Asian and white, Native Hawaiian/Other Pacific Islander and white (the survey allowed participants to select more than one category and included a write-in “Other” section). Identity2The majority of participants were between the ages of 25 and 44, with 29 respondents in the 25-34 range and 12 in the 35-44 range. Per a 2012 Pew Research study, Facebook appeals especially to women ages 18-29; Twitter to adults 18-29 and to African-Americans[5] (“almost a quarter of all black Internet users are on Twitter,” says Soraya Nadia McDonald, writing for the Washington Post[6]). I am white, between 25-34, and my Facebook friends are predominately white. The survey received the most attention on Facebook and appears to have been largely forwarded by college friends, so this breakdown is unsurprising.ages

The survey asked participants how they engaged with the events in Ferguson; whether Ferguson appeared in their social media feeds in August; how frequently and for how long Ferguson appeared in their feeds compared to the ALS ice bucket challenge, the death of actor Robin Williams, and news on Ebola; which of these four news items participants shared, liked or commented on; whether they’d posted about Ferguson in their timelines and the nature of those posts; and whether they’d liked or favorited others’ posts about Ferguson, and the nature of those posts. Fifty-four people said Ferguson appeared in their social media timelines in August; however, the two who said it did not said Ferguson appeared “a few times a day” in a follow-up question. Fifty-five people gave responses regarding their engagement with Ferguson: 21 said they followed the news and discussed Ferguson offline; 13 said they followed the news and discussed Ferguson on and offline; 14 said they followed news, discussed Ferguson on and offline, and attended protests, donated to or volunteered in the community. The remaining six listed a mix of engagement ranging from “not at all” to protesting without participating in online conversations.

When comparing Ferguson to the other news events (ALS ice bucket challenge, the death of actor Robin Williams, and Ebola) that appeared in participants’ timelines, 37 of 56 participants said the ALS ice bucket challenge appeared constantly (11 said it appeared several times a day, 7 a few times, and one person said it never appeared). Thirty-six of 55 respondents (one person did not give a response) said Ferguson appeared constantly, 14 said several times a day, and five said a few times a day. But when looking at how long events appeared in social media feeds, Ferguson remained the longest — 43 people said this item continued to appear in their timeline at the time of the survey, while 26 people said the ice bucket challenge appeared for a month (34 people said Robin Williams’ death appeared for a week, and 30 said Ebola was still in their timeline).

When asked whether they’d posted about Ferguson on social media, 31 people said they had. Twenty of those said their posts expressed support for the protestors or concern with the police reaction; five people said they shared news and/or more neutral, “pro-St. Louis” items; the remaining seven posts included two in support of the police, two stating that not all the facts were known, one “humorous photo,” and one response to racists posts. Of the 25 people who said they did not post about Ferguson, 13 specifically said they do not post political or sensitive topics on social media, because they don’t want to engage in discussions online, and in one case, because of family pressure (a family member is a police officer). A few more people (35) said they liked or favorited posts about Ferguson (18 supporting protestors, seven promoting non-violence and anti-racism, three news items, and seven “other,” including police support). Nineteen people said they had not liked others’ Ferguson posts, and again, the dominant reason was because they don’t share political opinions or get into arguments on social media.

Finally, I looked at how people’s engagement with Ferguson compared to their participation in the discussion online. Of the 31 people who said they posted about Ferguson (supporting either side), 14 said they attended protests, donated to, or volunteered in the community. The other 17 engaged with Ferguson via conversations and following the news. Nineteen others engaged with Ferguson events by following the news and offline conversations, but didn’t post about it on social media; six of those 19 did like some Ferguson-related posts.

Facebook Wants You to be Happy

Certain aspects of these results are expected, like the tiny lead of the ALS ice bucket story over Ferguson stories; others are more surprising. On August 20th, using data from SimpleReach, a social media analytics company that partners with about 1,000 publishers (including the New York Times, Huffington Post, and Time[7]), John McDermott reported the number of Facebook referrals for Ferguson stories compared to referrals for the ice bucket challenge: “Stories about Ferguson and/or Michael Brown published since Aug. 7 have generated fewer Facebook referrals on average (256) than stories about the Ice Bucket Challenge (2,106). Ice bucket stories also receive a greater number of Facebook interactions — likes, shares, comments — on average (796) than Ferguson stories (518)”[8]. Fifty-five percent of survey participants report posting about Ferguson on social media, but when looking at my Facebook timeline in August, 50% of the posts were not about Ferguson. I am not connected to all the survey participants on social media, so I would not see all their posts. Additionally, the survey did not ask when participants had posted about Ferguson, only whether they had. Nonetheless, it is worth considering the role of Facebook’s algorithm in what Ferguson stories appeared in timelines. McDermott quotes Jill Sherman, group director of social and content strategy at DigitasLBi, a marketing agency: “Facebook’s algorithm ‘may actually hinder the ability to surface breaking-news stories.’”[9] While Facebook users may have posted about Ferguson, the less-controversial stories were the ones showing more often in news feeds. On August 18th, Casey Johnston at ArsTechnica suggested this happens on purpose: Facebook’s controversial news feed manipulation study revealed, on a very small scale, that showing users more positive content encourages them to create positive content, resulting in a happier, reassuring Facebook experience.”[10] Brian Barrett at Gizmodo explains further why fun and feel-good items like ice buckets are more likely to appear than contentious topics. “Facebook’s objective is to connect you to people; the more connected you feel, the longer you stay on the site. The longer you stay on the site, the more ads you see. The more ads you see, the more likely it is that you may accidentally click one. That’s why we don’t see incendiary topics…in our feeds.” [11] Facebook is not a news site. It makes money through ads. [12] The algorithm may show some news-related posts, but not a racially-charged, controversial subject like Ferguson. Says Johnston: “History shows that political events on Facebook can play well, so long as the majority of population is going to fall on the same side: the story of the Boston Marathon bombers played big on Facebook because it was unifying, but arguments about their race and religion, not so much.”[13] Per the 31 survey respondents, people posted about Ferguson on Facebook, but the predominance of ALS ice bucket challenge posts shows the site’s algorithmic filtering at work.

Getting into dumb Facebook fights with people from high school… or not

Algorithm or no, controversial subjects won’t appear in a Facebook timeline if they don’t exist. In their introduction to their findings on “Social Media and the Spiral of Silence,” Hampton, Lee, et. al explain Noelle-Neumann’s spiral of silence, which proposes that people avoid speaking out about policy issues if they perceive their opinion to be in the minority.[14] For this study, the Pew researchers looked at people’s opinions about National Security Agency contractor Edward Snowden disclosing the American government’s surveillance of citizens’ phone and email records. “In both offline and online settings, people said they were more willing to share their views on the Snowden-NSA revelations if they thought their audience agreed with them.”[15] Thirteen survey participants specified that they did not post about Ferguson because they refrain from political posts on social media. Their comments included, “In my personal experience, expressing political opinions on social media almost always leads to feelings of negativity;” “…I wouldn’t want to get into a dumb Facebook argument with someone I knew from high school”; and “…I don’t discuss political opinions on social media, because it is to no avail.” My survey did not ask participants if they believed most of their Facebook friends shared their politics; however, as the average number of friends among adult Facebook users is 338[16], and the average Facebook user has met all but maybe 7% of those friends[17], one can likely predict the reactions to a Facebook post and whether or not those reactions will be negative. Furthermore, Johnston refers to study findings that say “…because Facebook friend networks are often composed of ‘weak ties’ where the threshold for friending someone is low, users were often negatively surprised to see their acquaintances express political opinions different from their own.”[18] If witnessing backlash on Facebook discourages people from posting about their political beliefs, experiencing it personally must be even more disheartening, assuring that future status updates will likely be neutral or positive. As mentioned, those are the posts Facebook has incentive to show users, to keep them happy and on the site.

While reluctance to engage in Facebook debates is one reason people refrain from posting political opinions, it’s important to consider other factors, like frequency and use. Some people rarely post to Facebook at all; others use it daily, but specifically for work reasons (publicizing events, for example). It may be that offline is the best way for some to discuss and process controversial events — away from the view of their entire social network. “By definition, engagement is the act of doing. But Dahlgren argues that engagement is also the act of “not doing” when the element of free will is introduced. In short, willfully choosing not to engage is engagement in itself when it is an individual’s choice,” says Rhon Teruelle [19]. By choosing not to engage on social media, some may choose to keep peace within an offline social circle (work, family), but may also be bringing about change directly through conversation or action in other offline contexts. For example, one participant said his engagement included teaching at the Ferguson library when schools were closed; volunteering with the clean up effort; working at a food pantry; delivering food items; and attending a protest. It did not include posting on social media. It can be easy to forget that life happens offline when people don’t broadcast every event and feeling on social media.

Because I saw a few Facebook updates in early August, I assumed only certain St. Louis friends were discussing Ferguson. It’s clearer now that Facebook’s algorithm was involved with this (and as Zeynep Tufecki suggests, it’s possible the algorithm changed as more eyes turned to Ferguson, pushing related posts into timelines[20]) and that people are more likely to post political opinions if they think their online network shares their view. If those refraining from sharing political opinions do so because they suspect pushback from their network, perhaps those comfortable posting political updates also recognize their social media circles reflect their beliefs and know political assertions will only get “likes.” Additionally, says Taewoo Nam, “citizens who engage in political activity via offline modes are more likely to participate in online political activity.”[21] Of the 31 survey respondents who said they posted on social media about Ferguson, 14 said they participated in protests, volunteered, or donated to the community. Eleven people from the original survey pool responded to a follow-up question asking if they considered themselves politically active. Two of the 11 were counted in the 14 who attended a protest — they considered themselves fairly politically active. Seven considered themselves minimally to somewhat politically active. These seven engaged with Ferguson events mainly by following the news and conversing in real life; only one out of seven posted about Ferguson on social media. Nam also says, “those who are not politically active offline could also use the internet for political involvement and participation,” and that “offline inactive people generally tend to be inactive online, but their likelihood to participate in online politics rises significantly if they use the internet more frequently.”[22] While 20 survey respondents engaged with the events in Ferguson mainly through the news and conversation offline, six of those did “like” or favorite others’ posts on the subject. This can be a way to show support for a cause without drawing the negative attention from those who disagree.

Part of the inspiration for this project was to explore whether the mass and social media St. Louis residents follow influenced their opinions on Ferguson. Reading through responses, I discarded this idea, realizing that people come to social media with their beliefs and social circles already in place. Those social circles mirror people’s own gender, race, and values. In It’s Complicated, an examination of teens’ use of social media, author danah boyd says, “when teens’ experiences are shaped by racism and misogyny, this becomes visible online.”[23] This applies both to teens and adults online. White people do not like to discuss race, as confirmed by Jessie Daniels, quoting Delgado and Stefancic and Rasmussen et al: “The longing and desperation to avoid having to ‘think about, look at, or talk about racial differences,’ is endemic to contemporary whiteness.”[24] But with an event like Ferguson, the discussion of race is necessary and inevitable, and people say things online that they would not in real life. In a piece on support for Darren Wilson, Sarah Kendzior, a St. Louis writer, says, “Social media is one of the few spaces in St. Louis not subject to segregation. This raucous online debate often stands in contrast to what area residents are unwilling to say to each other in public.”[25] One survey participant’s response bears witness to this behavior: “People seem a lot more bold when behind a computer.” This seems to be especially true on social media, and why not? If we think our friends share our beliefs, we can be ourselves. Though I saw little to no hateful or racist comments in my timeline, I see this as the manifestation of real life social circles reproducing themselves online — a personal example of what Claire Cain Miller calls “tamping down diversity of opinion.”[26] Says Ethan Zuckerman: “…many white American Facebook users likely have few or no African-American Facebook friends. This isn’t a phenomenon specific to Facebook – it’s a broader reflection of American demographics and patterns of homophily, the tendency of “birds of a feather” to flock together.”[27] The Atlantic online confirms this, noting that 75 percent of white Americans have white-only social networks, which is higher than the racial homogeneity of black Americans and Hispanic Americans (65 and 46 percent, respectively[28]). For those with racially diverse friend networks, there may still be uniformity in politics and values. Our beliefs are fed back to us as we scroll through our timelines. I went to a liberal arts college in St. Louis and am interested in social justice. Most of my St. Louis Facebook friends commenting and sharing about Ferguson went to school with me. As I “like” items, Facebook seems to show me more of the same (either more people have started commenting on Ferguson since August, or I trained my news feed by sharing and liking enough Ferguson-related posts); this is multiplied across the online population and its differing opinions. If Facebook’s algorithmic filtering fails to hide controversial posts, or a “weak tie” starts an argument, users can always choose to hide or unfriend someone, perpetuating the lack of diverse opinions.

How, then, do we move forward, if we’re operating on social media with a narrow scope of perspective, and when an algorithm may hide the opinions of those with whom we disagree? Although our online social networks resemble our real-life connections, as Kendzior suggested, there may be less segregation online than in our day-to-day lives. It can be easy to get caught up in social media, spend hours on Facebook, start thinking of your friends as enlightened, engaged, racist, ignorant, or disconnected and then start unfriending or muting people. But to combat the shrinking of opinions, it may be best to keep those connections, as evidence that others — people we know (and maybe like) — do think differently, and possibly even engage with those who disagree with us. While commenting back and forth on Facebook may not change opinions, sharing articles and information may result in someone finding an item that would otherwise not have crossed her radar. It can lead to conversation offline, which was mentioned by all but six survey participants as a way they engaged with Ferguson events. Facebook is a handy tool for finding friends and old acquaintances, sharing information, and organizing events; but for honest discussion of difficult topics, real life conversation with friends and family may be the most realistic way to bring about meaningful change.

Footnotes

[1] Ferguson, Douglas A. “The Trivial Pursuits of Mass Audiences Using Social Media: A Content Analysis of Facebook Wall Posts by Fans of Top-Trending Television Programs.” In Social Media: Usage and Impact, edited by Hana S. Noor Al-Deen and John Allen Hendricks, 307. Lexington Books, 2012.

[2] Johnston, Casey. “Facebook’s Route to Becoming a Reassurance Machine.” Ars Technica, 8–18, 2014. http://arstechnica.com/business/2014/08/how-facebook-might-fix-its-trivial-viral-content-glut/.

[3] Miller, Claire Cain. “How Social Media Silences Debate.” The New York Times, August 26, 2014. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/27/upshot/how-social-media-silences-debate.html.

[4] boyd, danah. It’s Complicated : The Social Lives of Networked Teens. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014, 2014.

[5] Duggan, Maeve, and Joanna Brenner. “The Demographics of Social Media Users — 2012.” Pew Research Center’s Internet & American Life Project. Accessed December 10, 2014. http://www.pewinternet.org/2013/02/14/the-demographics-of-social-media-users-2012/.

[6] McDonald, Soraya Nadia. “Black Twitter: A Virtual Community Ready to Hashtag out a Response to Cultural Issues.” The Washington Post, January 20, 2014. http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/black-twitter-a-virtual-community-ready-to-hashtag-out-a-response-to-cultural-issues/2014/01/20/41ddacf6-7ec5-11e3-9556-4a4bf7bcbd84_story.html.

[7] SimpleReach. “Featured Partners.” Accessed 3 December 2014. http://www.simplereach.com.

[8] McDermott, John. “Why Facebook Is for Ice Buckets, Twitter Is for Ferguson.” Digiday. Accessed November 13, 2014. http://digiday.com/platforms/facbeook-twitter-ferguson/.

[9] ibid.

[10] Johnston, Casey. “Facebook’s Route to Becoming a Reassurance Machine.”

[11] Barrett, Brian. “Facebook’s Rose-Colored News Feed.” Gizmodo, August 19, 2014. http://gizmodo.com/facebooks-rose-colored-news-feed-1623931209.

[12] Tsukayama, Hayley. “Facebook IPO: How Does Facebook Make Its Money?” The Washington Post, February 1, 2012. http://www.washingtonpost.com/business/technology/facebook-ipo-how-does-facebook-make-its-money/2012/02/01/gIQAL03yiQ_story.html.

[13] Johnston, Casey. “Facebook’s Route to Becoming a Reassurance Machine.”

[14] Hampton, Keith, Lee Rainie, Weixu Lu, Maria Dwyer, Inyoung Shin, and Kristen Purcell. “Social Media and the ‘Spiral of Silence.’” Pew Research Center’s Internet & American Life Project. Accessed November 13, 2014. http://www.pewinternet.org/2014/08/26/social-media-and-the-spiral-of-silence/.

[15] ibid.

[16] Smith, Aaron. “6 New Facts about Facebook.” Pew Research Center, February 3, 2014. http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2014/02/03/6-new-facts-about-facebook/.

[17] Hampton, Keith, Lauren Sessions Goulet, Lee Rainie, and Kristen Purcell. “Social Networking Sites and Our Lives.” Pew Research Center’s Internet & American Life Project. Accessed December 4, 2014. http://www.pewinternet.org/2011/06/16/social-networking-sites-and-our-lives/.

[18] “Facebook’s Route to Becoming a Reassurance Machine.”

[19] Teruelle, Rhon. “Social Media and Youth Activism.” In Social Media: Usage and Impact, 201–17, 2012.

[20] Tufekci, Zeynep. “What Happens to #Ferguson Affects Ferguson: — The Message.” Medium, August 14, 2014. https://medium.com/message/ferguson-is-also-a-net-neutrality-issue-6d2f3db51eb0.

[21] Nam, Taewoo. “Dual Effects of the Internet on Political Activism: Reinforcing and Mobilizing.” Government Information Quarterly, Government Information Networks, 29, Supplement 1 (January 2012): S90–S97. doi:10.1016/j.giq.2011.08.010.

[22] ibid.

[23] boyd, danah. It’s Complicated : The Social Lives of Networked Teens.

[24] Daniels, Jessie. “Race and Racism in Internet Studies: A Review and Critique.” New Media & Society 15, no. 5 (2013): 695–719.

[25] Kendzior, Sarah, and Umar Lee. “‘I Am Darren Wilson:’ St. Louis and the Geography of Fear.” Quartz, October 21, 2014. http://qz.com/284383/i-am-darren-wilson-st-louis-and-the-geography-of-fear/.

[26] Miller, Claire Cain. “How Social Media Silences Debate.” The New York Times, August 26, 2014. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/27/upshot/how-social-media-silences-debate.html.

[27] Zuckerman, Ethan. “Self-Segregation on Social Networks and the Implications for the Ferguson, MO Story | … My Heart’s in Accra.” Accessed November 10, 2014. http://www.ethanzuckerman.com/blog/2014/08/27/self-segregation-on-social-networks-and-the-implications-for-the-ferguson-mo-story/.

[28] Jones, Robert P. “Self-Segregation: Why It’s So Hard for Whites to Understand Ferguson.” The Atlantic, August 21, 2014. http://www.theatlantic.com/national/archive/2014/08/self-segregation-why-its-hard-for-whites-to-understand-ferguson/378928/.

Additional Resources

Lee, Newton. Facebook Nation : Total Information Awareness. New York, NY: Springer, 2013.

Mercea, Dan. “Probing the Implications of Facebook Use for the Organizational Form of Social Movement Organizations.” Information, Communication & Society 16, no. 8 (October 2013): 1306–27. doi:10.1080/1369118X.2013.770050.

Neuman, Scott. “Ferguson Timeline: Grief, Anger And Tension.” NPR.org. Accessed December 1, 2014. http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2014/11/24/364103735/ferguson-timeline-grief-anger-and-tension.

Pew Research Center. “Stark Racial Divisions in Reactions to Ferguson Police Shooting.” Pew Research Center for the People and the Press, August 14, 2014. http://www.people-press.org/2014/08/18/stark-racial-divisions-in-reactions-to-ferguson-police-shooting/.

Sullivan, Gail. “How Facebook and Twitter Control What You See about Ferguson.” The Washington Post, August 19, 2014. http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2014/08/19/how-facebook-and-twitter-control-what-you-see-about-ferguson/.

Woods, Janee. “12 Things White People Can Do Now Because Ferguson.” Quartz. Accessed November 30, 2014. http://qz.com/250701/12-things-white-people-can-do-now-because-ferguson/.

Zuckerman, Ethan. “Cute Cats to the Rescue? Participatory Media and Political Expression.” Zuckerman, April 2014. http://dspace.mit.edu/handle/1721.1/78899.

“Whitewashing” in Mass Media: Exploring Colorism and the Damaging Effects of Beauty Hierarchies

Mass media is incredibly pervasive in our society. Constant and readily available, it consumes our everyday lives. Arguably the most powerful source of information in this day-in-age, the media bombards our society with notions of good versus bad, desirable versus undesirable, acceptable versus unacceptable. These types of discourses are particularly evident and distressing in modern media’s deep-seated racial bias in its portrayal of African American women. More specifically, the obvious Eurocentric ideals in most of popular media render only African American women who have been constructed to fit these ideals as beautiful, causing an entire group of African American women to be deemed invisible, unacceptable, and unworthy of the media’s attention.

While we can only speculate the intentions of the media, these particular patterns of racial bias constantly emerge. In this paper, I will explore the history behind the very strict set of ideals that decree only certain African American women “beautiful”, and how the media’s perpetuation of these standards are consumed by and of African Americans, causing some disconnect in the African American community between those women who fit more into the Eurocentric ideal and those who do not. While there is no doubt that the dominant culture excludes certain African American women from their realm of beauty, the ultimate internalization of Westernized standards of beauty by other African Americans causes certain women of darker skin and coarse, “kinky” hair to feel ostracized even by their own race.

In order to attain a complete understanding of this complex issue, we must first asses one of its fundamental components: the history that created the deep-seated biases and attitudes about skin color that exist outside of and within certain African American communities. Discrimination based on skin tone within a racial group, known as Colorism, is one of the many legacies from American slavery (Stephens & Few 253). The racism that occurs amongst African Americans as a people is arguably a direct backlash of slavery, concerning the division of the two kinds of slaves: “house Negroes”, who worked in the master’s house and “Field Negroes”, who performed the manual labor outside. This separation was enacted based on the slave trader’s beliefs that darker skin inherently meant better labor, whereas lighter-skinned Blacks were thought to be better suited for more intelligent tasks and lighter labor (Kerr 273). Furthermore, an overwhelming majority of enslaved Black women who worked domestically were of lighter complexion, as often times these women were raped by their masters who saw lighter-skinned Black women as more handsome and delicate (Kerr 273; Baptist 1621). In D. Channsin Berry and Bill Duke’s documentary film Dark Girls, one woman states that during this point in history “we as a people were so disenfranchised that we adopted some of that… a lot of that” (Dark Girls). This marginalization that began with slavery has continued amongst both the wider population and other African Americans. Eventually, “European scientists began to categorize the appearance of Blacks in the New World, including hair and skin tone” that was dominated by fair skinned and straight haired people (Thompson 833). Once black beauty was juxtaposed with White beauty, a socially stratified hierarchy began to take shape, placing darker-skinned, “naturally” coarse-haired African Americans at the bottom.

As scholars Dionne Stephens and April Few examine, this hierarchy created by the ecopolitical institution of American slavery has evidently continued to the psyche of contemporary African Americans (Stephens & Few 258). Traditionally, those who posses skin color or hair that more closely resembled that of Caucasian Americans were/are more likely to be given higher status in American society. This internalization of such standards is made clear by studies like the Clark Doll test, conducted in the 1930s by African American psychologists Dr. Kenneth Clark and Dr. Mamie Clark. The Clark Doll test was conducted by asking African American children to express certain preferences for black or white dolls, with questions such as “which doll is the dumb doll?” and “which doll is the ugly doll?”, while the only difference between the set of dolls was the color of their skin. The majority of the African American children who took this test selected white dolls for the positive attributes, and the black dolls for the negative (Bernstein 197). This internalization of what the larger society sees as good, acceptable, and beautiful is demonstrated through this test, which has been replicated numerous times, even in recent years. It is clear, therefore, that “African American children learn about the significance of skin tone when and if they see people treated better or worse based upon having lighter or darker skin” (Stephens & Few 253). This internalization of “good” versus “bad” skin tone based off of Westernized ideals is problematic, as it marginalizes an entire group of African Americans. As one girl in Kiri Davis’ documentary film A Girl Like Me states, “Since I was younger I also considered being lighter as a form of beauty or… more beautiful than being dark skinned, so I used to think of myself as being ugly because I was dark skinned” (A Girl Like Me). The pain experienced in some individuals’ present has everything to do with this collective past (Rooks 281). Today, these deep-rooted forms of Colorism directly translate into modern day notions of African American beauty both beyond and within Black communities. In our society, more specifically, the media’s perpetuation of these historical standards through its portrayal of African American women continues to be consumed by and of the larger society.

 

Media images shape our conceptions of race by constantly bombarding us with strict, Eurocentric standards of beauty. The mainstream definition of beauty “consistently includes immutable qualities found far less frequently among populations of African descent” (Sekayi 469). The image of Black beauty in popular culture reflects the ideals of typical Westernized beauty, giving this narrow definition a race-based measurement for what is considered “good” and “bad”. As scholar Dia Sekayi highlights, “when black women were (and are) presented, they typically met (meet) Eurocentric ideals in terms of… skin color and hair texture” (Sekayi 469). Though famous, beautiful African American women like Halle Berry, Beyonce, Oprah, Rihanna, Janet Jackson, Tyra Banks and many others have achieved high-status in American culture, media representations of these women display images that have become increasingly “whitewashed” over time. As one 21 year old, African-American woman on Harvard’s campus (who shall remain anonymous) stated in an interview I conducted with her: “I’d like to see different kinds of black people represented in the media. It’s always a light skinned woman who has a certain look – they basically try to make her look white in any way possible”.

Tyra

The two main characteristics, as scholars have found, that are increasingly “whitewashed” by popular media are African American women’s hair and skin tone. Famous African American women such as those described above are typically featured in the media with lighter-colored, straighter hair, lighter makeup, and sometimes even digitally altered skin tones. A clear example of the media whitewashing images of African American women is seen in Beyonce’s 2008 L’Oreal ad campaign.

Beyonce

This image of Beyonce has clearly been Caucasianized, as she is pictured with long, straight blonde hair and a skin tone many shades lighter than her natural tone. Tying back to the roots of such alterations, “these two characteristics have historically been used as measure of social, political, and economic worth for African Americans” (Stephens & Few 257). Such ideals are incredibly oppressive for a large number of African American women, as they see such alterations done and are indirectly told that their natural self is not acceptable. The more Westernized African American women look, the more beautiful they are to be considered. More so than ever, African American women are confronted with these very strict, Eurocentric images of African American beauty presented in mainstream media.

To complicate this issue a bit, I examined three sources that challenged these Eurocentric standards of beauty that are so prevalent in the mass media: A blog called Beauty Redefined, and Ebony and Essence magazines. The blog Beauty Redefined, though highlighting many of the major points of this issue, I believe cannot be seen as a major complication to or compelling force against the dynamics at play between the media and black women. As a one-time, one-read blog post, this article (though presenting worthy information and could possibly serve as an empowering read for women of color) does not stand as a significant challenge to the enormous amount of power and prevalence of mainstream media. Ebony and Essence, on the other hand, represent black media that was created by and for African Americans (Essence being specifically targeted towards African American women), and serve as a continuous source of information. The subversive work within these magazines often does work against America’s larger culture of whitewashed standards by highlighting issues, personalities and interests specific to African Americans in a positive/self-affirming manner. These sources directly seek to empower African Americans. Relating specifically to African American women and beauty ideals, Essence magazine solidifies this notion by nature of having a more varied section for female hair – including Natural, Relaxed, Transitioning, Wigs/Weaves, Celeb Look, and Street Style. The very existence of these sections serves as a better representation of the realities for African American women than mainstream media almost ever poses.

However, to complicate these ideas of subversion even further, psychologist Maya Gordon examines that, “several scholars have argued that the beauty ideal presented by Black media and promoted in the Black community is just as narrow as the mainstream ideal” (Gordon 246). This argument does not seek to delegitimize the amazing work done by these sources, but rather addresses the idea that even if African American women do not ascribe to or identify with mainstream media ideals, a very strict set of ideals is still present in certain African American media. Ultimately, many African American women in the United States are never fully “protected” from White Western norms of beauty, as seemingly “Black subjectivity has no existence without comparison to White (mainstream) culture” (Hesse-Biber et. al 709; Thompson 855). An illustration of this Western-influenced bias existing within African American beauty standards can be seen upon looking at Essence Magazine’s (a monthly magazine for African American women that covers fashion, lifestyle and beauty) “40th Anniversary 40 Most Beautiful Covers” piece. Out of the forty covers that this feature highlighted as the “Most Beautiful” in the history of Essence Magazine, only one presents a very dark-skinned African American woman – model Alek Wek – and her picture is displayed in black and white.

Essence

This is a clear-cut example of the sort of racially biased trends that consistently emerge, even within specifically targeted African American media. Despite the few exceptions made for “exotic” women, “the image of Black beauty in popular Black magazines gives the impression that Black… is only beautiful when it is altered” or somehow fits typical Western ideals (Sekayi 469; Thompson 847). It is shown, therefore, that in nearly every facet of media, African American women are told to strive for this nearly unattainable ideal. This pervasiveness of generally one specific type of African American beauty “impacts African American women, because it is often not [their] image that becomes the vision and standard of beauty” (Thompson 849).

Upon examining these standards of beauty that are presented for African American women, it is important to now address how these public and media images influence the personal identities of many African American women. This unspoken, yet ubiquitous hierarchy among people of color results in serious consequences for some African American women with darker skin and “natural Black” hair. As Gordon points out, many Black girls “use images of Black women as their source of comparison” (Gordon 247). While one might guess that this source of comparison would be less damaging than comparing to White women, the racial bias that similarly emerges in the prevailing images of African American women in the media can still be incredibly problematic to many African American women. Studies have shown that “exposure to idealized images of other women and, more specifically, African American women had an impact on Black women who reported being less satisfied with their bodies” (Frisby 342). In Dia Sekayi’s research on the effects of the Eurocentric standard of beauty on African American women, an overwhelming majority, 72.8%, expressed discomfort with the way the media defines beauty for Black women (Sekayi 474). This is detrimental, as these media portrayals leave a large group of African American women who don’t fit these ideals to feel undesirable, unwanted or unattractive. The images of famous African American woman who have been constructed – usually through either physical or digital alteration – to fit Westernized ideals produce the controversial question of why being “just black” isn’t good enough. Or, more specifically, why certain types of “black” are better than others. There are many personal costs of beauty standards that define dark skin and “natural Black” hair as inherently and automatically problematic.

Halle

The large majority of African American women “accept the Eurocentric standard as reality and understand that whether or not they embrace it as their own, they will be judged according to it” (Sekayi 474). This can be incredibly destructive to African American women who do not fit the typical image of “beauty” endorsed by the larger culture.   While body image is molded by both external and internal sources of validation, these two sources often go hand-in-hand (Stephens & Few 253). As one woman in the documentary film Dark Girls states “when you live so many years with people having certain judgments relative to your skin tone, you start to believe it” (Dark Girls). Other people’s beliefs about beauty affect many women’s view of themselves, as normative standards are used to evaluate one’s own level of attractiveness. The influence of Westernized African American media images is so great, that these standards have significant sociocultural affects not only on notions of physical attractiveness, but also on many African American women’s courtship, self-esteem, and identity. In Stephens and Few’s study on fifteen African American adolescents (seven boys and eight girls), 100% of the male participants chose the image of the Westernized African American woman (displaying long, straight hair and lighter skin) as the most beautiful and desirable image, while none of them said that the image of the Afrocentric woman (displaying darker skin and coarse hair) as beautiful or desirable (Stephens & Few 255-256). Certain phrases such as “color struck” and “bleaching syndrome” have been used to indicate “preference among some African Americans for lighter skinned mates as a means to ‘lighten up’ the family and achieve social status” (Stephens & Few 253).

African American women acknowledge that the dominant standard of beauty is Eurocentric, as one African American girl in A Girl Like Me states, “there are standards that are imposed upon us like, um, you know… you’re pretty, you’re prettier if you’re light-skinned” and another girl states how “you have to have straight hair, relaxed hair” (A Girl Like Me). These Eurocentric standards of beauty have become so internalized within the dominant society and the African American culture that even women who don’t fit these ideals but potentially have positive body image might have difficulties in finding a partner or feeling connected to certain Black communities. As one girl explains, “I felt like there was not any attention towards me because of maybe my skin color or because my hair was kinky” (A Girl Like Me). These notions based off of skin color and hair type leave many African American women feeling unaccepted, unattractive and unwanted, even by their own race, leaving many with problematic self-esteem issues.

Gabourey

While many women acknowledge their discomfort with the way the media defines beauty for Black women, many of them will still take drastic measures in attempts to align their appearance with these set beauty ideals. Hair treatments like weaves, relaxers and permanent chemical straighteners have become a normative part of Black beauty. As scholar Cheryl Thompson points out, covering up “natural tress and damaging [one’s] real hair for the sake of a desired ‘look’ should not be taken lightly” (854). Such hair practices can have serious negative affects on both the women’s natural-born hair and their self-image, feeling they must continuously use these practices in order to look beautiful. Although hair straightening practices are “tantamount to torture, Black women continue this practice because a ‘real’ woman has long straight hair, while short nappy hair is relegated to something children have or those women – according to mainstream and Black beauty standards – who may be deemed less attractive” (Thompson 848). Similarly, some African American women with very dark skin use skin bleaching creams or treatments in attempts to lighten their skin tone. As one women states, “I can remember being in the bathtub, asking my mom to put bleach in the water, so that my skin would be lighter, and so that I could escape the feelings that I had about not being as beautiful, as acceptable, as loveable” (Dark Girls). The fact that some women feel pushed to such extremes to alter their appearance demonstrates the serious threats that our society’s internalization of strict standards of beauty poses.

Beyonce2

Black women are unique in that they are asked not just to strive to attain mainstream standards of beauty, but to have such standards completely override their natural being (Thompson 854). Media message emphasize an incredibly rigid set of ideals that are so pervasive it is virtually impossible for women to avoid them. Many studies have been conducted to reveal the dangerous effects of such media images on many African American women’s self-esteem, particularly darker-skinned women with naturally coarse or “kinky” hair. While it is important to recognize that “women with low levels of body esteem did report lowered self-satisfaction with body esteem when exposed to physically attractive images of African American models”, it is crucial to recognize where the notion of what makes African American models “attractive” comes from (Frisby 323). The long history of a racial hierarchy began from the marginalization that certain African Americans faced during the period of slavery, and the separation of house versus field laborers. Since this period in history, Westernized ideals have become so internalized not only by the dominant society, but also by a large majority of the African American community itself. The subsequent negative effects on and practices taken up by many African American women who do not fit these standards of beauty are frightening. The perpetuation of media exhibiting images of almost exclusively one type of African American women (and even then whitewashing these images) is highly problematic. As a different 22 year old, African American woman on Harvard’s campus illuminates, “I feel like black women’s representation in the media usually falls into three categories. One is the white-washed, thin, light-skinned black female with European features and white, middle class values. The other would be the loud, dark skinned, larger woman who lives in Harlem and has a drug problem – this woman is never portrayed as a figure of beauty, though. The last one is the ‘exotic’-looking, hyper-sexualized woman from Africa. I think maintaining these stereotypes of black women and portraying black culture as a monolithic entity in general has negative externalities on both the black community and society as a whole”. Essentially, interventions that resist and deconstruct exclusive Westernized notions of beauty must be conveyed through popular culture with African American female role models who fall outside of the “typical” notions of beauty. Though the internalization of these standards of beauty runs deep, steps must be taken in order to de-stigmatize and include all forms of African American beauty that have historically been ostracized from the realm of beauty in nearly every facet of society.

 

Works Cited

A Girl Like Me. Dir. Kiri Davis.   2005. Film.

Baptist, Edward E. “”Cuffy,” “Fancy Maids,” and “One-Eyed Men”: Rape,           Commodification, and the Domestic Slave Trade in the United States.” The American Historical Review 106.5 (2001): 1619-650. Print.

Bernstein, Robin. “The Scripts of Black Dolls”. Racial Innocence: Performing American Childhood from Slavery to Civil Rights. New York: New York UP, 2011. Print.

Dark Girls. Dirs. Bill Duke, D. Channsin Berry. Urban Winter Entertainment and Duke Media Production, 2011.

Frisby, Cynthia M. “Does Race Matter? Effects of Idealized Images on African   American Women’s Perceptions of Body Esteem.” Journal of Black Studies, 34. 3 (Jan., 2004): 323-347. Web. 11 Apr. 2012.

Gordon, Maya K. “Media Contributions To African American Girls’ Focus On Beauty And Appearance: Exploring The Consequences Of Sexual Objectification.” Psychology Of Women Quarterly 32.3 (2008): 245-256. Women’s Studies International. Web. 11 Apr. 2012.

Kerr, Audrey Elisa. “The Paper Bag Principle: Of the Myth and the Motion of Colorism.” The Paper Bag Principle: Class, Colorism, and Rumor and the Case of Black Washington, D.C. Knoxville: University of Tennessee, 2006. Print.

Sekayi, Dia. “Aesthetic Resistance to Commercial Influences: The Impact of the   Eurocentric Beauty Standard on Black College Women.” The Journal of Negro  Education, Vol. 72, No. 4, Commercialism in the Lives of Children and Youth of Color: Education and Other Socialization Contexts  (2003): 467-477. Web. 11 Apr. 2012.

Stephens, Dionne P. “The Effects of Images of African American Women in Hip  Hop on Early Adolescents’ Attitudes Toward Physical Attractiveness and Interpersonal Relationships.” Sex Roles (2007) 56:251–264. Web. 11 Apr. 2012.

Thompson, Cheryl. “Black Women, Beauty, And Hair As A Matter Of Being.” Women’s Studies 38.8 (2009): 831-856. Women’s Studies International. Web. 11 Apr. 2012.

 

 

 

 

 

Redrafting African American History through Social Media

The election of Barack Obama in 2008 led many citizens to believe the United States had entered a post-racial society in which African Americans were no longer subject to white prejudice and discrimination. Yet the recent deaths of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner confirm the persistence of unbridled racism in contemporary America. These unpunished abuses of power summon the image of Radio Raheem being choked to death in Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing and the memory of fourteen year-old Emmett Till, whose body was mutilated with barbed wire and thrown into the Tallahatchie River along with a seventy-pound cotton gin fan.

The crimes committed against these individuals are among the most visceral manifestations of racism imaginable. Although well intentioned, the hailing of a post-racial America demonstrates that whites in the United States are still incapable of perceiving and thus, denouncing the daily discrimination that African Americans endure on a daily basis. This is especially true for milder, though equally disturbing, forms of racism. High schools across the country, for instance, continue to utilize textbooks that underreport and whitewash the historical role of African Americans. The worst offenders are often privatized Christian schools in southern states. In Louisiana, in particular, some charter schools rely on Bob Jones University Press textbooks to teach the history of racial politics. Students are tested on their ability to assimilate the following information:

 Few slaveholders were undeniably cruel. Examples of slaves beaten to death were not common…the majority of slaveholders treated their slaves well.

The [Ku Klux] Klan in some areas of the country tried to be a means of reform, fighting the decline in morality and using the symbol of the cross. The Klan’s targets were bootleggers, wife-beaters, and immoral movies. In some communities it achieved a certain respectability as it worked with politicians.

Despite the racist motive of such textbooks, America’s public curriculum is arguably the worst offender in preserving black history. Most Americans, for instance, are familiar with the horrors of slavery and the KKK and would publicly condemn the textbooks being used in Louisiana’s private Christian schools. That is unsurprising given that most Americans attended schools that sought to communicate an unbiased interpretation of history. Public schools and, as a result, the masses are powerless, however, in policing accurate historicism if something was omitted from the historical narrative altogether.

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Throughout history, white supremacists have made a conscious effort to remove the achievements and efforts of black leaders from the national consciousness in an effort to both dismiss the African Americans of that time and to dictate how historical events were retold to subsequent generations. As a result, many African Americans were never honored for their actions. This form of whitewashing, then, has a far greater potential for disempowering minorities than the blatant distorting of common knowledge events. Today, most well educated people would argue, for instance, that Abraham Lincoln, and his mostly white Union Army, was largely responsible for abolishing slavery in the United States. In reality, however, blacks living along the Eastern seaboard participated in a series of “Gullah Wars” for over a century that helped precipitate the abolishment of slavery:

One such Gullah War occurred in Florida during the 1830’s and was led by an extraordinary group of black men named Abraham, John Caesar, and John Horse. Yet rather than acknowledge the true nature of the event, the conflict was termed the Second Seminole War. Most newspapers from that time attempted to portray the conflict as a Native American war due a very rational fear of inspiring widespread, regional slave unrest. In addition, by minimizing the participation of plantation slaves, and instead claiming that Indians kidnapped runaways, white plantation owners could seek restitution from the U.S. government for war damages. The war ultimately involved more than three hundred slaves and nearly a thousand Black Indians.

It is difficult to believe that an event as important as the Florida Gullah War is still not being taught in American schools today. It is equally difficult to assign blame to any modern entity centuries after African Americans were deliberately removed from the historical record. On one hand, for instance, the U.S. Department of Education is absolved from any blame associated with the discriminatory processes that whitewashed American history because it was not created until 1979. On the other hand, however, the public must now hold the department accountable for revising the inherited version of events.

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Social media is quickly becoming the preferred means of expressing discontent with the current curriculum. In some cases, social media is replacing the regulatory role of the U.S. Department of Education altogether and inserting itself as the primary repository of African American history. Applications like YouTube, Twitter, and Instagram, in particular, are now being utilized to disseminate vast quantities of information to the wider public. Given the increasingly growing presence of African Americans on these social media applications, the strategy could potentially alter popular perception of blacks in U.S. history. Online community forums, though far less prominent, are also striving to accomplish the same goal.

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With its constant activism in revising African American history and policing modern attempts to distort the role of blacks, the Twitter account @BlackCognizance merits individual analysis. Founded in November 2011 with the tagline “Once you have been awakened from mental slavery, it’s hard to go back to sleep,” the account now has nearly eight thousand tweets and over sixteen thousand followers. Moreover, its creators are also responsible for the Instagram account BlackHistory, which has nearly twenty-five thousand followers. Both accounts seek to demonstrate that “there is more to [black] history than Egypt and slavery.” The Twitter account also provides African American users with a platform to voice educational injustices—facilitating a grassroots cultural renaissance.

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A recent trending topic on the account focused on boycotting the upcoming film “Exodus: Gods and Kings,” which features an almost all-white cast. Director Ridley Scott, for instance, chose to portray Moses and Rhamses with actors Christian Bale and Joel Edgerton. Twitter followers such as @Dr_Asrat, featured above, and @Sharifkadir protested, “Hollywood could have easily funded Afar people who closely resembled Egyptians to star in Exodus #BoycottExodusMovie.” As a result, other, more traditional outlets, such as ThinkProgress, which carry millions of daily viewers, have joined the movement online. Likewise, Sojourners, a progressive monthly publication of Christian social justice, has decried the film for whitewashing Middle Eastern and African history:

When retelling a Biblical story, the effects of whitewashing are amplified. In the case of the movies Noah and Exodus, whitewashing continues a well-established practice of white sacralization through religious indoctrination. Throughout the history of European imperialism and colonialism this type of indoctrination was present. Depictions of white only Biblical figures (including prophets, angels, Jesus, etc.) were intentionally used to subconsciously indoctrinate the false belief of white divinity (and therefore superiority) upon the minds of the oppressed and conquered.

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The amplifying power of social media in revising the historical record, as illustrated in the case of #BoycottExodusMovie, must not be understated. Yet, unsurprisingly, academic research on the topic is almost nonexistent. In order to determine the effectiveness of social media in disseminating minority-based history in the United States, I designed a survey study that was conducted on five college campuses around the country. The survey was distributed through former high school friends who are now attending school at each location.

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At each school, the survey study was designed to target members of different backgrounds in order to capture the diversity found on social media. At the same time, however, the survey controlled for self-selection bias through an online randomization process. In order to do this, my friends obtained a student roster at each school through their class year’s Facebook page. A computer program selected fifteen names at random which my friends later emailed me. I subsequently messaged each individual through Facebook and asked him or her if they would be willing to participate in the study. If not, the randomization process was once again conducted in order to arrive at a total fifteen willing participants per school. The schools were also chosen based on geographic location in order to control for regional variations in the data.

The use of Facebook in the survey study ensured that I could easily contact potential participants and that I was reaching people who were actively engaged with social media. Out of the seventy-five college students surveyed, for instance, more than 80% reported an online presence on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. The inclusion of different cultural backgrounds, moreover, allowed the study to create benchmarks with which to compare black educational social media accounts. The study was able to gauge, for instance, whether black accounts like @BlackCognizance were truly the most engaged with revisionist historicism or whether this was simply an illusion caused through the overrepresentation of African Americans on Twitter.

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In attempting to conduct the study, I was particularly worried that the tragic deaths of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner would skew the results to show a temporary anomaly in the amount of people following black social media accounts, such as @YesWeRise. After speaking to African American participants in the study, however, I realized this fear was unfounded. Once people start following these accounts, they explained to me, they generally become long-term users. The study, therefore, represents accurate demographic trends despite a turbulent sociopolitical atmosphere. Below, I have included the racial breakdown of the students who participated in the survey by school:

In the Southeast region, I surveyed 4 African Americans, 5 Hispanics, and 6 Caucasians at the University of Miami.

In the Southwest region, I surveyed 4 African Americans, 2 Hispanics, and 9 Caucasians at the University of Texas.

In the West region, I surveyed 5 African Americans, 6 Hispanics, and 4 Caucasians at the University of California, Los Angeles.

In the Midwest region, I surveyed 5 African Americans, 4 Hispanics, and 6 Caucasians at the University of Michigan.

In the Northwest region, I surveyed 7 African Americans, 1 Hispanic, and 7 Caucasians at the University of Oregon.

In total, I surveyed 25 African Americans, 18 Hispanics, and 32 Caucasians across the country—for a total of 75 students. The presence of Caucasians, which make up nearly half of the data set, may initially seem contrary to the aims of the study. In reality, however, the population breakdown of the survey follows that of the larger student population at each of the schools in the study—a welcomed byproduct of eliminating self-selection bias. Additionally, the presence of white students enabled the study to gauge the penetration of minority-based social media accounts in the larger population, outside African American and Hispanic communities.

Among African American students, nearly 65% reported following some form of black history on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. Within that group 80% reported Twitter as their primary source of historical information. On the other hand, only 40% of Hispanic students reported some form of engagement with Latino history on social media. Again, Twitter dominated the competition—claiming 75% of all Hispanics who actively sought to read such information online.

Within the white surveyed population, less than 20% of students reported following any form of social media associated with American history. Within that group of students, half said they followed minority-based cultural accounts in order to obtain a more expansive version of historical events. Within the group of students who were not associated with historical social media accounts, only one was able to name an African American or Hispanic focused Twitter or Instagram account.

Within the 35% of African Americans and 60% of Hispanics who claimed to not follow any forms of minority-based social media accounts, an overwhelming proportion (80% of African Americans and 75% of Hispanics) claimed they had never heard of accounts like @BlackCognizance or @LatinoHistory, but planned on following them as a result of the survey.

I also showed all non-participating students a wide variety of tweets in order to better understand why some accounts were more successful than others in drawing in new members. Students were not necessarily attracted to the most radical retellings of history. Instead, they were interested in reading novel accounts grounded in fact. This is unsurprising because the second-most cited reason for not following these accounts in the first place was an inherent distrust for information found on the Internet. Below, I have listed the three most popular tweets in order. Whether through an image or link, all three tweets provide users with varying degrees of authenticity:

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In the case of the third tweet, for instance, users are redirected to an educational segment featuring Rick Steves, a well-respected American author and television personality. The video segment informs users:

The story of Granada is all about the Islamic Moors. In the year 711, these North African Muslims crossed the straits of Gilbratar and quickly conquered the entire Iberian Peninsula. For over 700 years, Spain was a predominantly Muslim society living under Muslim rule. For two centuries, until 1492, Alhambra reigned as the capital of Grenada. While the rest of Europe slumbered through much of the Middle Ages, the Moorish civilization was wide awake. The math necessary to construct this palace would have dazzled Europeans at that age. The Moors made great gains in engineering, medicine, and even classical Greek studies. In fact, some of the great thinking of Ancient Greece had been forgotten by Europe but was absorbed into Africa and actually given back to Europe via scholars here in Spain.

These Twitter accounts thus provide an authentic and verifiable version of events that is rarely if ever portrayed from an Afro-centric point of view in classrooms. The survey revealed that this process of investigative, multimedia learning is not only highly informative, but something that college students enjoy doing in their free time. The engaging presentation of information, moreover, helps explain why African American accounts are more popular than their Hispanic counterparts, which for the most part tend to only include static text.

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In addition, the survey revealed that despite the overall popularity of African American accounts, the people utilizing them as educational instruments are also overwhelming black. In other words the burden of revising whitewashed American textbooks is disproportionally falling on the blacks that are producing and consuming this type of revisionist work. One caveat, however, concerns my inability to incorporate Native American online accounts and students into the study—something that may or may not displace African Americans as the distinguished leader of this online movement.

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In order for this movement to succeed, however, the public must, as mentioned earlier, hold American institutions accountable for what is being taught in public schools. At a certain point, the online community must transition from an information gathering entity to a politically active constituency, willing to exert pressure on the government. My interest in this topic stems from my own research on the Gullah Wars, which I am writing about in a thesis entitled “Restless Liberty: Territorial East Florida’s Maroon Haven and the Largest Slave Rebellion in US History, 1835-1836.” As I read through military documents detailing the lives of slaves in Florida throughout the antebellum period, I grew increasingly frustrated that few people outside of Harvard would learn about this crucial part of African American history. Consequently, I decided to reach out to one of the curators at the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, which is set to open next year. I talked about what I was researching and how I hoped to someday turn it into a book. In the meantime, I explained that there were certain things the museum could incorporate into their exhibits to rectify historical inaccuracies. Among other things, I explained that the Underground Railroad flowed not only to the northern border of the United States with Canada, but also to the south where slaves were able escape to the Bahamas via Florida.

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Six months later, the Smithsonian Museum posted the following message alongside the photo included above:

The Underground Railroad, the secret system that ferried thousands of enslaved people from bondage to freedom, had stops in cities across a wide expanse of our country – and some of the “stations” were in places that were not in a direct line from a slave state to a free one.

“While primary attention is given to the drama of slave escapes to the free states of the North and to Canada, there was also a flow of runaways into Spanish Florida and into Spanish Mexico and the subsequent Mexican Republic,” notes the National Park Service.

Whatever path an enslaved person took for their escape – wagons, boats, river crossings – they often found their way to hiding places within private homes, churches and barns. Helping them along were abolitionists, including free blacks and others sympathetic to their plight who risked fines and imprisonment for aiding them.

Look for upcoming posts about cities such as Atlanta, Cincinnati and New York – all known for their efforts to help enslaved persons become free men and women. Check out this link to see various routes of the Underground Railroad: http://1.usa.gov/1y4FCM4

This is only one small example of how an individual can exert pressure on a larger institution to help reunite people with their ancestors’ pasts. Going forward, I have maintained my relationship with the Smithsonian and hope to establish a temporary exhibit demonstrating the importance of the Gullah Wars in precipitating the abolishment of the domestic slave trade in the United States. I am confident that in the future other individuals will demand a redrafting of African American history too. I would not be surprised to see social media play a crucial role in that effort.

Works Cited

“#BoycottExodusMovie.” Twitter. Dr_Asrat. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://twitter.com/Dr_Asrat/status/541711660134985728

“BlackCognizance.” Twitter. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://twitter.com/blackcognizance

“BlackHistory.” Instagram. Web. 20 Oct. 2014. http://instagram.com/blackhistory

“Black History: John Horse And The Black Seminoles.” YouTube. Web. 20 Oct. 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7TT2TthezYU

Brock, Andre. “From the Blackhand Side: Twitter as a Cultural Conversation.” Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media: 529-49. Print.

“Crushing White Supremacy (Part 3: The Gullah Wars).” YouTube. Web. 20 Oct. 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoNTDABXBxU

Dawson, Michael C., and Lawrence D. Bobo. 2009. One year later and the myth of a post-racial society. Du Bois Review: Social Science Research on Race 6(2): 247–249.

“Do The Right Thing: Radio Raheem’s Death.” YouTube. Phillip Branch. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGM5x1qQUOI

Ho, Pauline. “Twitter Post.” Twitter. Web. 20 Oct. 2014. https://twitter.com/paulineptho/status/523667354207932416

“King Henry VII and WWI.” Twitter. BlackPresence. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://twitter.com/blackpresence

“Largest Slave Rebellion.” Cocoa Lounge. 13 May 2013. Web. http://www.cocoalounge.org/viewthread.php?tid=61299&page=2

McLean, Nick. “Black Men and Depression, Part 2: PTSD.” Yes, We Rise. BlogSpot. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. http://yeswerise.blogspot.com/

Potter, Woodburne. The War in Florida. 1836. Reprint, Ann Arbor: University Microfilms, 1966.

“Ridley Scott on Exodus.” PageSay. ScreenRant. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. http://pagesay.com/ridley-scott-says-exodus-gods-and-kings-is-his-biggest-epic-yet/

“Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture.” The Underground Railroad. Google. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://plus.google.com/u/0/116010930245123207334/posts

“Teaching African History.” Twitter. Racialicious. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://twitter.com/racialicious/status/540525431892750337

“The Alhambra.” Black History Heroes. Twitter. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. https://twitter.com/historyheroes

“The Murder of Emmett Till.” The American Experience. PBS. Web. 10 Dec. 2014. http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/till/

United States History: Heritage of Freedom, 2nd ed., A Beka Book, 1996

United States History for Christian Schools, 3rd ed., Bob Jones University Press, 2001

“United States History For Christian Schools.” Amazon. Web. http://www.amazon.com/United-States-History-Christian-Schools/dp/1591664241

Where Worlds Intersect: How ‘White Girls’ Became ‘Basic’

“Calling all the basic b*tches” begins Youtube user and Internet sensation Lohanthony, twirling his leg and finally leaning into the camera to tell his audience “you’re basic.”

Lohanthony’s video was published in June 2012, and it’s the event that several people I interviewed pointed to as the entrance of the term ‘basic’ into mainstream lexicon— with mainstream being young, mainly white, teenage girls that comprise the majority of Lohanthony’s fanbase of 1,367,470 (on YouTube alone). But what is the ‘basic bitch’, or what does it mean to be ‘basic’?

In November, I emailed several student groups on campus, including suburban high and middle schoolers, the Institute of Politics’ Politics of Race and Ethnicity Group, the First-Year Urban Program, and the Asian American Women’s Association with a poll asking about attitudes members held about the intersection of the terms ‘basic’ and ‘white girl,’ as in the Common White Girl Twitter stereotype (see @CommonWhiteGirl@CommonWhiteGrl, or @girlposts for more of an explanation). I found that 76.9% of those polled were familiar with the ‘Common White Girl’ accounts (the most famous of which, @girlposts, has 5.14 million followers). In addition, I found that a similar percentage, 73.8%, believed that though ‘white girl’ is not synonymous with ‘basic,’ ‘white girls’ are often ‘basic.’

 

90210, the CW

I grew up in suburban upstate New York in a predominantly white community (though I myself identify as AAPI) so I have become familiar with today’s use of the terms “basic” and “white girl” in terms of the community that I was in, in that the ‘basic’ girl is one who sips on her Starbucks vanilla bean frappuccino, uploads selfies to Instagram daily, and wears chestnut brown Ugg boots from October to March. I have been wondering how the term ‘white girl’, which denotes a stereotypical suburban teenager (Davies) who loves “Starbucks, Ugg boots, North Face Denali fleece jackets, and pumpkin spice lattes” (Davies) has become termed “basic” by teenagers and bloggers alike, as the term “basic” derives from the term “basic bitch” which emerged into African American culture in 2009. In this blogpost, I will discuss the appropriation of the term “basic”, along with how racialized, if at all, the term “white girl” is. In addition, I will also hope to shed light on how people of color have come to accept or reject this trope of a “white girl” and on what the roots of their attitudes on this issue are.

Part I: Some Basic Information on the Term ‘Basic’

Today, it’s difficult to post a picture of a Starbucks cup (red for the holiday season) without being charged as being ‘basic’ in the comment section, and it’s hard to wear Ugg boots with pride when you know that you’ll be derisively called ‘basic’ by your peers when you venture out to public. But the term ‘basic’ has origins far from this connotation, of the suburban world of Ugg boots, lattes, and Bath and Body Works 3 for $15 lotions. It is actually rooted, like many ‘trendy’ words, in African American culture.

The first mention of the term ‘basic’ online was on August 3, 2009 when YouTube user LilDuval posted the video “Basic Bitch” (LilDuval). In it, LilDuval exclaims “if you a black girl and your weave is red, green, purple, or blonde… yous a basic bitch,” and “if you go on a date with no money and expect him to pay for your food and he don’t, yous a basic bitch and you shoulda had a backup plan” among other scenarios that he deems “basic bitch” worthy. Writer Logan Anderson agrees, writing in the Louisiana State University Legacy Magazine that the term “basic bitch” was originally in the African American community an extension of the term “ratchet,” a “stereotypical lower class African American woman— someone who wore Rainbow clothing, lace front wigs, and drew on her eyebrows… a woman that a highly ranked, white, male Republican would derisively refer to as a ‘welfare queen'” (Anderson). It’s a far cry from what we, and Lohanthony, deem ‘basic’ today.

The timeline I created here further highlights the transformation of the term ‘basic’ in pop culture. Shortly after LilDuval’s video was posted, the term “basic bitch” was modified on Urban Dictionary to fit his context, and the term “basic bitch” was picked up by Tyga in his 2010 song “Hard in the Paint,” as he raps “don’t compare me to no basic bitch” (Tyga). Lil Wayne quickly followed Tyga later that year, rapping in “I Am Not a Human Being” that “I thank God that I am not basic” (Lil Wayne). Basic, in these two songs, has a definitively negative connotation in which it is, like Anderson writes, an adjective or stereotype that describes people of a lower social and economic class.

The turning point in the term ‘basic’ being used in the music industry is in the release of Kreayshawn’s song “Gucci Gucci” in May 2011 (Kreayshawn). The song’s repetitive hook states “Gucci Gucci, Louis Louis, Fendi Fendi, Prada/ the basic bitches wear that shit, so I don’t even bother,” making it seem that you don’t have to be poor to be ‘basic’; being ‘basic’ seems to be, in this song’s context, a crime of being unoriginal and following safe crowd trends in order to fit in, not of being poor. In addition, being ‘basic’ is no longer something that only women and men in the black community can be; Kreayshawn, or Natassia Gail Zolot, is a petite white woman who is appropriating black culture, and more pertinent to this conversation, black linguistics (Viera). Gucci Gucci has over 48 million hits on YouTube as of 2014, and it’s what many online sources point to as the beginning of the word ‘basic’ entering mainstream (read: white) lexicon, a sort of linguistic gentrification if you will. Being basic, one writer states, seems like a new phrase, but it really is “only new to one narrow part of our culture— white people” (Davies), reminiscent of say rock-n-roll to white audiences with the introduction of Elvis. By the transitive property, it seems like Kreayshawn is our Elvis in that she brought the term “basic bitch” to white consciousness.

Today, the fact that the term ‘basic’ originated from African American culture is virtually unknown, with a vast majority— 80.6%- of respondents stating that they do not associate the term ‘basic’ with African American culture (some respondents were more enthusiastic about this, saying “hell nah” and “I don’t [associate basic with African American culture] but unfortunately society does”). One respondent even wrote that “there definitely are basic people within the black community,” suggesting that there are people representative of today’s suburban white teenager-style basic in black culture and a lack of knowledge that the original ‘basic’ women were black.

Though the term ‘basic’ has been appropriated into describing someone who is completely different from the original connotation, it is still representative of someone who fits a certain basic (literally), generic stereotype.

Ms. Not-Right-Now

It’s interesting also to observe the dropping of the phrase “bitch” from the phrase “basic bitch,” as if it is making the phrase more age-appropriate for younger mostly white teenagers who have taken over the term. Nevertheless, the term ‘basic’ has come a long way from its original context to its current connotation.

Part II: Understanding Basic-ness Within the Context of Teenage Identity

In “The Disconnectionists,” Nathan Jurgenson discusses the idea that there’s a “conflict between the self as social performance and the self as authentic expression of one’s inner truth” and that there is a group of people advocating the unplugging from social media citing the fact that the Internet has “normalized… an unprecedented repression of the authentic self in favor of calculated avatar performance” (Jurgenson). Jurgenson and the Disconnectionists bring up an interesting point— has the “basic” identity evolved because it turns out that a lot of people of certain demographics do a lot of the same things, or has the fact that women tend to buy the same type of clothes or participate in similar activities not stem from online peer pressure? In other words, would Starbucks pumpkin spice lattes have gained as much prominence without the power of social media and the desire to ‘fit in’ by suburbanites? I hypothesize (as someone who has tasted the candle-like pumpkin spice latte) that no, they wouldn’t, and that peer pressure definitely has a role in the spread of what is ‘cool’ and not, and by extension, what ‘basic’ girls do to fit in (and counter-intuitively, this groupthink contributes to the defining of ‘basic’ identity). Ms. Not-Right-Now puts it best, defining ‘basic’ as “an uncanny ability to aspire to mediocrity” (Ms. Not-Right-Now), and one woman who states that she’s “proud to be a basic bitch” wrote that “basic means according to the Internet: a white girl who likes cliché things that ‘every other white girl’ likes,” making it seem like the term has evolved heavily because of the fact that social media has made it possible for everyone to know what people are caring about in all aspects of life, be it activities, food, or sartorial choices (Booth).

Researcher Danah Boyd writes in it’s complicated that American teens use social media in a way that reflects existing problems in society and reinforces their deep-seated beliefs, and that teens bring their “values and attitudes, hopes and prejudices” online with them (Boyd 160). She additionally writes that social divisions remain salient online, and that “class politics intertwine with race” (Boyd 160), which makes understanding why teens may call each other or another group of teens ‘basic’; it’s an expression of helping classify the ‘other,’ just like they do in the cafeteria. Calling out a group of stereotypically middle and upper class girls for the way they dress or act is nothing new and is a normal expression of us-vs-them mentality or teenage angst, and a more dated term might be something like ‘prep’ in the early 2000s for the Abercrombie-wearing set. Teens calling each other ‘basic’ is just making fun or poking fun at being too “normal” or unoriginal, and many embrace the term. It’s nothing radical or new, except for the appropriation of African American culture that’s intrinsically part of the phrase (alongside white suburban teenage girls calling their hair ‘ratchet’ after a day of not straightening it).

I think that this is supported strongly by the fact that the essence of being ‘basic’ varies by regional tastes and by age; for instance, Jezebel ran a feature called “The United States of Basic Bitches” which details the “Chicago Trixie Basic,” “Dallas Basic,” “Manhattan Basic,” and “San Francisco Basic” along with others, showing that being basic, or generic, varies by regional taste and is not static (Ryan).

Part III: White Girl- Racist or Classist Caricature?

From what we have explored so far, it seems that ‘basic’ now describes the quintessential American ‘white girl’—but who is she?

I’ve found online the terms are often lumped together, like in the Buzzfeed headline “16 Questions All Basic White Girls Never Knew They Needed to Answer” or “25 Things All Basic White Girls Do During the Fall,” so to understand these terms a little bit better, I’ve created a chart to compare things that ‘basic’ girls and ‘white girls’ like and do in order to draw a comparison.

FullSizeRender

(Walker, Marshall, Hudspeth)

It’s easy to see that there are a lot of similarities between the two groups, as denoted by pink asterisks. I would like to note that this list is not comprehensive and is taken from only three articles describing the characteristics of ‘white girls’ and ‘basic’ girls.

I hope that this chart shows that race is not as big of a factor in the term ‘white girl’ as one would expect, as I did not see anything in either columns that had anything to do with race. It seems more that the two stereotypes and tropes are instead based in consumerism (brands like Ugg, North Face, Victoria’s Secret, and Starbucks are named, as well as the website Pinterest which allows for users to compile virtual shopping lists of things they would like, recipes they would like to create, wedding ideas, or things of that nature). This is supported by my poll data, which found that 68.75% of respondents stated that not all ‘white girls’ are white, and as one responder put it, “the reference to a ‘white girl’ is anyone whose behavior corresponds to the white girl stigma.”

However, in a departure from my findings, I do think that there is some sort of racial component inherent in the ‘white girl’ trope; it would be considered racist to use a similar trope for people of color (ex. There aren’t articles out there derailing black girls or Asian girls). There is some sort of element of privilege inherent in the fact that white boys and girls can use the trope ‘white girl’ to make fun of each other, because, as one young woman interviewed in Why are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria puts it, “I’m just normal!” (Tatum 93).

Tatum writes that adolescence is when race becomes salient, as evidenced by what she called the “birthday party effect” in which parties for young kids are often as diverse as the classrooms are, but parties as students get older at puberty are often segregated by race (Tatum 57). My hypothesis that the trope of a ‘white girl’ is based in this notion that adolescence is an age where race becomes salient; seeing the similarities between ‘white girls’ who are usually materialistic middle and upper-middle class girls and the stereotype of Jewish American Princesses (JAPs), why has one taken off on a storm throughout all forms of social media, whereas the other, JAP, has not (Betches Love This)?

Though the term JAP is still used by Jewish American teens, it is not salient enough for the greater public to take on to make fun of or poke fun at. One of the students I interviewed, Sam, stated, “You can call a non-white person a ‘white girl,’ but I would not call one of my non-Jewish friends a ‘JAP.’”

I wanted to know how women of color felt about the term ‘white girl,’ and if teens felt that the term is applicable to people who are not white. 68.75% of my respondents said that not all ‘white girls’ are white, and a similar percentage, 65.6% felt that you could call someone who isn’t white a ‘white girl.’ This would counter my theory that whiteness, or race in general, is salient in this demographic that is using the term ‘white girl’ interchangeably with ‘basic.’

On the other hand, other I learned that 51% of women of color I interviewed felt that they could identify with the term ‘white girl,’ while 49% of them felt that they could not because they are not white. I also asked respondents how they would feel about getting called a ‘white girl,’ if they were women of color, and I got a wide array of responses. Some were neutral on the subject, saying things like “offended” or “okay with it because they are obviously joking,” but I had a lot more negative responses (this was an optional question, so this could be biased in that people with stronger feelings left responses and those who were more lukewarm on the subject skipped it). These ranged from “offended because that means I’m a materialistic snob” and “it plays off a stereotype of being a middle/upper-middle class white girl” to “it hurts because when black women are called and compared to white girls, it is just another reminder of how much this country rejects black womanhood” and “as a person of color, I’m offended when someone calls me a ‘white girl’ and goes on to suggest that I’m denying my own race by ‘acting too white.’”

The negative responses I received about how women of color would feel about being called ‘white girls’ leads me to believe that for the greater community at large, being a ‘white girl’ does not depend solely on race, but for women and people of color, being called a ‘white girl’ is more than being told you’re materialistic, representative of a certain lifestyle/socioeconomic background, or as one person wrote, “a stereotypical/characteristic less intelligent, usually young Caucasian female who follows popular trends and is caught up in inconsequential details.” It’s like being told that you are conforming too much into the white majority (like being called an ‘Oreo’ or a ‘banana’).

One woman interviewed even said that she “automatically feels as if that’s degrading because ‘white girl’ is linked to ‘being basic,’” noting the negative connotation basic-ness has to women of color as well. Being basic, it seems, is something that no one wants tied to his or her identity, regardless of race and class.

Part IV: Conclusion

I wanted to learn more about the face of the ‘white girl’ movement by conversing with someone who is the purveyor of the ‘white girl’ code, namely, one of the owners of the many Common White Girl Twitter accounts. Though I reached out to five of them (the ones that I could find had business emails in their Twitter biographies), I only received answers from two of them, one of which asked me to text him/her (which I felt a bit too uncomfortable doing). The one Tweeter that I was able to talk to stated that s/he believes that ‘basic’ and ‘white girl’ are the same thing, but this is not the opinion of everyone, and wrote that s/he felt that ‘white girl’ is a class-based term, an opinion that many of my poll respondents had held. I think that the most interesting things that I learned from corresponding with the Tweeter was that the account follows many women of color, and that most of the Common White Girl’s followers are people of color.

One of the most famous Common White Girl accounts. The accounts almost all include this picture of pre-transformation Cinderella as the avatar.

 As a woman of color, I agree with one of my respondents in that though I would not feel great about being called a ‘white girl,’ I would still feel like it would make sense if I was carrying a Starbucks cup, as the phrase has become deracialized in some circles to the point in that it’s a meaningless stereotype, akin to the word ‘prep.’ However, I do hold issues with being called ‘basic,’ as I still feel like it is an appropriation of black culture even if its connotation today is a complete departure from its past. 

At the same time, it seems that reading too far into these stereotypes is in and of itself ‘basic’, as Jezebel writer Kara Brown wrote, “overanalyzing basic is the most basic move of all” (Brown). As one of my respondents put it, “being ‘basic’ or being a ‘white girl’ is basically like being called a ‘dumb blonde.’ Not all blondes are dumb, and there are certainly people who don’t have blonde hair that could be the butt of a blonde joke.”

(Author’s Note: I would like to note that my statistics are up for consideration seeing that I did not have a randomized sample size nor was the number of women of color and white women equal or controlled in any way. I used a very informal survey.)

 Works Cited

Out of the Fire and into the Furnace: How the Discourse of Skinny has taken new form in the Fitness Revolution

In 2013, over 1.7 billion people were in some way connected to social media (Pew, 2013). This startling data demonstrates the vast involvement people have in the online realm. When users enter the online sphere, they open their minds to all that is out there. One of the most prevailing themes in social media is centered around body image. This essay would argue that as everyday citizens we internalize the world that we see around us. In fact, studies have shown that the media influences issues that people find most important to them (McCombs and Shaw, 1972). It will be pointed out that previously in our cultural history that very thin was perpetuated as desirable. However, with the genesis of the fitness movement, it would appear that this is no longer the ideal. This paper is interested in discussing how the “fit” movement has not fully abandoned factors that were present in the thin ideal. Specifically, unattainable beauty is still presented to observers. Initially, pin-thin models graced all the pages of magazines with emaciated bodies conveyed their possession of “the good life”. Today, media is deluged with extremely fit models sculpted and chiseled with ironically less body fat (but more muscle mass) than their pin-thin predecessors. This paper will also explore how racism permeates the fitness movement by under and misrepresenting women of color.

The idea of attaining a body that is physically impossible is an idea that has been around for centuries. From the Imperial Chinese foot binding to the Victorian era corsets, it is clear that demands have been placed on women to alter their body to conform to the prevailing fashion ideal. Not surprisingly, the fashion industry dictates what women perceive as desirable, and it is a male dominated field. Most of the fashion houses are run by men who control our body-image indoctrination.

This body-image propaganda begins at a very young age. Children’s toys and advertisements are subtly training young girls about ideal physical attributes. For example, the doll, Barbie, sets up girls to desire something that is simply impossible. Just for starters, the body configuration of a Barbie doll would actually require a woman to be over seven feet tall to achieve her proportions. Dolls like Barbie are present in a young girls lives, but, in all fairness, we see this type of doll in a young boys’ lives as well. For example, a Ken doll is manufactured with bulging muscles and perfectly coiffed hair. These dolls as marketed as the ideal male and female. Because these ideals are impossible to achieve, self-loathing and disappointment become the normative psychological state of adults of all ages. The video below explains more thoroughly the inaccuracy of Barbie’s proportions, and how these dimensions are not humanly attainable.

Dolls and toys are an early influence in a person’s life, but Barbie et al, of course, is not the only influence on young girls. The fashion industry has historically perpetuated the image of nearly anorexic models, and these models are getting younger and younger. In fact, the industry is currently promoting their youngest super-model who is barely 9 years-old. In alignment with her older colleagues she looks gaunt and skeletal. She, like Barbie, is a model for very young girls to attempt to emulate. Since these plastic or rare genetic combinations cannot be replicated, the self-hate begins at an extraordinarily young age.

https://in.news.yahoo.com/video/9-yrs-kristina-pimenova-world-151000037.html

The industry has always infused society with impracticable expectations about body image. Although not entirely eliminated, society has rebelled against the idea of pin-thin models and impossible representations of a woman. People, albeit mostly women, have banded together to combat this unhealthy brainwashing. Whether they are being called too fat or too skinny, women are never perfect. As seen in the article below, there has been many campaigns against this body dymorphism. More precisely, the article below documents the outrage over an advertisement that was created by GAP. The model looked completely emaciated and scrawny. Consequently, people were outraged that GAP would have a model look like this. Fortunately, this backlash demonstrates that people now realize that the look of a super thin model is not desirable or healthy.

http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2014/08/10/skinny-gap-model_n_5666507.html

Unfortunately, this revulsion didn’t morph into an archetype of body image that is attainable and forgiving. Instead, as previously mentioned, body image culture has jumped out of the fire and into the furnace, with its transition from extreme skinny to extreme fit. In the article below, fitness is seen as a way to replace a formerly unhealthy lifestyle. The man is lauded for overcoming anorexia, which is a positive shift in our society, yet what is not being realized is that his cure…bodybuilding is just another approach to obsessively think about body image.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-2820238/Young-man-bullied-badly-weight-plummeted-just-SEVEN-stone-age-15-beats-anorexia-bodybuilder.html

Body image in the media is a no-win battle. Women (and men-but the focus of this essay will be on pressures geared towards women) are expected to be perfect. Accordingly, women must somehow be healthy, count every calorie and work-out every day. The standards that are placed upon women are unbearable and unrealistic. As seen in the article the “healthy” lifestyle is one that is as unhealthy as an eating disorder. Clearly, the mandates are not achievable for most body types.

Healthism is a potential explanation how these body image movements originate. Healthism is a term-coined by Robert Crawford in 1980. Crawford later updated his definition in 2006 by stating that healthism is the individual duty of a citizen to help himself and others achieve health (Crawford 2006). He further suggested that healthism persuaded people to associate healthy with morality; people who were seen as fit were good and those who were unfit were bad (Crawford 2006). As Susan Greenhalgh describes, “to be fat in America is to be “ugly,” “disgusting,” “inferior,” and “unworthy” of friendship or romance” (Greenhalgh, 2014). The reason for this is that our society has turned into a health-crazed world that seems to shun those who are overweight. Susan Greenhalgh believes that the reason for this panic is that pharmaceutical companies have exaggerated the problem to cause people to take action (Greenhalgh, 2014). Citizens everywhere have been alerted that obesity is on the rise, depriving the nation of precious lives, and, as Greenhalgh explains, provoked the United States Surgeon General to launch a nationwide campaign to promote healthier living in 2001.             Consequently, the Bio-Citizen was born. As described by Christine Halse, “the bio-citizen is a product of an era of escalating anxiety in the public imagination about an international pandemic of overweight and obesity” (Halse, 2006, p. 45).    This panic has caused a new measurement system to arise, namely BMI. Body Mass Index (BMI) gives bio-citizens a scale in which to rate their fellow citizens. This scale is especially problematic for the discourses that occur if one does not fit into the “normal range.” BMI is used as a system in which members of the national community can declare “who is fat and who is not” (Wann, 2009, p. xiv) As Halse describes, BMI does not just represent a number range, it brings into light rhetoric surrounding the idea of being outside the norm (2007, p. 47). Halse posits that these discourses have translated into certain “virtue discourses.” These discourses explain what is good and moral; and what it means to be a true and just citizen (2007, p. 47).This idea that people somehow lose their virtue because of their weight is simply preposterous and reveals the damage that this “obesity panic” has produced. People who are overweight are looked down upon and seen as unworthy of love or respect.

Parents, specifically mothers, have been criminalized for the escalation of obesity in the nation. The advertisements below expose the parental target in regard to childhood obesity. The striking ad was part of a Strong4Life campaign that had the goal of stopping parents from overfeeding their children. This campaign criminalizes children who are seen as overweight. The ad series promotes the idea that there is something wrong with these children without examining their genetic constitution nor their dietary habits.

obese             This preoccupation with fitness, perfect body image and healthism is reflective online. Media is a mirror of our interests as well as our obsessions. The sole function of social media experts is to ensure they have a pulse on the consumers. Upon examination of all popular media including facebook, twitter, instagram, etc., fitness and body-image are the most prevailing themes. Consequently, it is apparent how society influences people. On these platforms, citizens are not only shaming those who lack “motivation” but also shunning women of color as part of the movement. Images that are projected in the fitness movement reflect one body type, and furthermore one skin color. It is rare to come across a woman of color on fitness Instagram pages. A woman of color not only has to achieve the perfect body of the model but also a skin color that is not her own.

fit

As described in the book Body Panic, “Women’s health and fitness magazines covers ‘flesh out’ this being [female fitness trope] in detail. She is ‘perky’ and inviting with a coy smile, she leans… or languishes displaying a lean, tight and tones, but lacks visible rips or cut. Her muscles are long and lean, and certainly not ‘too big,’ while her body possesses a subtle dote of curvaceousness” (Dworkin & Wachs, p1). This image is produced in mass to represent a new norm in society.

In the above picture, several things are noteworthy. As Dworkin & Wachs point out, a popular female fit requirement is that the woman is obligated to not be “too big.” This woman is perfectly toned, yet still has the “curvaceousness” that would make her desirable (large chest and backside). The particular Instagram account that this image is taken from is called fitness food_motivation. The account has over one million followers and 607 posts. This account is reflective of the fitness movement of Instagram: it has lifestyle tips, and countless pictures of the dream body to be motivated by. Just the name of this account reveals a problem with this fitness obsession movement, namely “motivation.” The usage of the word motivation implies that we can control whether we look like the models posted. Truthfully, ninety-nine percent of women could work-out, fast, lift weights, take supplements and never achieve any resemblance to these genetic creations which are likely to have been filtered or photo shopped, as well.

This media bombardment of body image remedies definitely reveal that white women are preoccupied with attempting to conform to the ever-evolving societal female standard. The overt message is that they just lack the “motivation” to get the body they desire. Upon close examination, it becomes apparent that Instagram accounts are primarily directed at white women. In this six hundred plus post, only four show a person of color.

Women of color battle many facets of the fitness movement. They are not depicted as often and when they are it is undeniably in a different light than their white counterparts. In the “fitness video” below, the image is alarmingly degrading and racist. The primary image viewers get is that of this woman’s bottom. Her fitness goals are not underscored, but her sexuality is. This emphasis on sexuality of women of color is rampant in all forms of media.

Another example of this phenomenon (sexualizing woman of color) can be seen in the popular campaign “Got Milk? In the “Got Milk” advertisement shown below, tennis player, Venus Williams, takes center stage. Unfortunately, it is not Venus Williams, athlete, strong businesswoman, Wimbledon winner; it is Venus Williams… black, sexual woman. The most visible part of the ad says “lean machine.” This brings up the stereotype that women must be thin, yet also operate with the efficiency of a machine which is emphasized again with the slogan “milk your diet, lose weight.” This implies that with the help of a certain product a woman can almost cheat her diet.

venus

Even more startling than the emphasis on dieting and weight is that, at its core, the ad implies women are never good enough. Although Venus Williams is a champion athlete, she still not quite perfect. More specifically, her athletic accomplishments are not enough; she still needs to lose weight and diet to attempt to reach the archetype of body perfection.

So what exactly is this ideal? We can clearly identify this ideal by comparing Venus Williams’ got milk advertisement with some of the other got milk ads with a corresponding female white lead. In another got milk ad (see below), the tone is completely different. While Venus is depicted as stormy, fierce, and sexy, the white model is happy light and has a very “girl next door” feel to her. The contrasting advertisements are so striking as the white model’s ad has a background that is bright yellow, while Venus’s ad is a very dark and stormy black. Venus is also much more scantily clothed than the white woman. Venus is the erotic woman. She veers away from the norm. The white woman represents the ideal. She is happy, carefree, and not flaunting her sexuality with most of her body concealed.

MPE_COR_M14210_A.R6

The words on the white model’s ad also provide a stark contrast to Venus’s ad. Venus’s ad reads “lean machine” while the other reads “all smiles.” As aforementioned, the phrasing “lean machine” implies that women need to change themselves in the hopes of becoming thinner. Hence, the ad implies that the African-American woman has more improvement to do to help herself be as content as the smiling white woman. Subliminally, this hints that she needs to become lighter and leaner in order to achieve “all smiles”.

Also it is interesting to examine the contrasting body language of the two women. Firstly, Venus’s ad displays her full body. Her hips thrust out to one side with a net over her back and glass of milk in the other hand gives the ad a very erotic feel. This oversexualization of the African-American female athlete is a common theme. Scholars have found that in the media, African-American women are depicted as a hunter with the white female as her prey (McKay and Johnson, 2008). In contrast the white woman’s got milk is from the mid-section up with her arms surrounding her face. In the white woman’s ad, the emphasis is on her face and the milk product. Her arms circle around her face and the cup of milk is resting on top of her head connotating intelligence. In Venus’s ad, the glass of milk is around her hips, thus implying her most valued trait is her sexuality.

Even more interesting is the glass of milk itself. The glasses seem to play on body stereotypes in different cultures. In Venus’s ad, the glass is created to mimic the shape of a woman’s body. It is often stereotyped that women in African American cultures are comfortable with their more curvaceous bodies, and in fact this is something that they hope to achieve. This puts a lot of pressure on women who don’t have this physique naturally, so perhaps the advertisers are attempting to persuade women that by consuming their product this body type can be achieved.

In contrast, the white woman’s glass is shaped as a normal glass. The white woman is confident, “all smiles” about her straight figure. Curves are not important to a white woman as seen by her glass and by the woman’s frame. She is very thin and seems to have an almost boyish physique.

Below are some more examples of this contrast. Once again, African-American women are portrayed in a different light. This portrays the troubling chasm white and woman of color are depicted in the media.

rihanna Lauren-Conrad-Got-Milk

This chasm is perpetuated in the fitness movement whereby woman of color are again not given the same representation. In the images below, one can see how severely contrasted depictions of women can be in the fitness movement. As one can see these images represent completely different ideas. The image on the left, the woman of color, is most likely in the gym, she is lifting weights and wearing sports gear. Her muscles are ripping through her skin, an image that is rarely copied by white women. The woman is more similar to the male fitness troupes. Additionally, the woman on the left is also much more curvaceous than her white counterpart.

In opposition, the white woman is not even depicted as in the gym. She has no clear muscle definition and is primarily just skinny. Surprisingly, she is well-endowed in her breasts and bottom which is an anomaly given that those areas are comprised of fat tissue. This again sets up woman to be unable to achieve this impossible combination…skinny and buxom. She encapsulates what Dworkin and Wachs identify in their book as this competing dichotomy of skinny and voluptuous.

Upon close scrutiny, she is not defined at all, yet somehow she still looks perfectly toned. She is on the beach in a bikini. This suggests that she is enjoying the “final product” of her labors. The woman of color has to continue working on her body as she is still strenuously working out. Like the image of Serena Williams, fitness Instagram accounts imply that women of color can never achieve the archetype. The caption of the white woman says “tag someone with a nice tummy.” In contrast, the image on left is captioned “Don’t just look like an athlete, train like one!” Again this if further implying that the white woman is the desirable person and the woman of color has an entire year’s worth of work to get the ideal body.

As one can see from these various examples, the depiction of health and of women is a very complex topic. It is important to realize that what we see in the media is not always the most accurate portrayal of true health. While the fitness movement does have positive message such as working out and eating healthy, it can quickly turn into a dangerous obsession. It is important that all media users are aware of the implications of their daily exposure to this propaganda. It is easy to fall into the trap of obsessing over one’s body to get that perfect abdominal muscle or the one bulging bicep.

These accounts are also dangerous because they only show a one-dimensional look at these fitness fanatics. Most of the people who create these sites dedicate their professional life to working out and eating healthy. But a viewer only sees one stretch or one meal which can consequently lead to disappointed when a dream body does not suddenly appear after a short-term concerted effort. Since we spend so much time in the online world, we must be educated. Whether it is called marketing, brainwashing or cultural enlightenment, it the responsibility of the online media user to decipher what is physically and psychologically healthy information. Furthermore, it is important for viewers of this content to modulate change for a positive body image representation. As demonstrated, media is enormously influential in all of our lives. With proper “crowdsourcing”, a new platform with an accurate depiction of female body images is just a click away.

Works Cited

Crawford, Robert. “Healthism and the Medicalization of Everyday Life.”International Journal of Health Services 10.3 (1980): 365-88. Pub Med. Web.

Dworkin, Shari L., and Faye Linda. Wachs. Body Panic: Gender, Health,and the Selling of Fitness. New York: New York UP, 2009. Print.

Greenhalgh, Susan (2014). A Biocitizen Society to Fight Fat. Making War on Fat: The  Human Story of America’s Anti-Obesity Campaign (Manuscript in Process).

Halse, C. (2009). Bio-Citizenship: Virtue Discourses and the Birth of the Bio-Citizen. Biopolitics and the ‘Obesity Epidemic’: Governing Bodies (pp. 45-59).

Mckay, James, and Helen Johnson. “Pornographic Eroticism and SexualGrotesquerie in Representations of African American Sportswomen.”Social Identities 14.4 (2008): 491-504. Social Identities. Web.

Shaw, D. L., and S. E. Martin. “The Function of Mass Media Agenda            Setting.” Journalism & Mass Communication Quarterly 69.4 (1992): 902-20. The Public Opinion Quarterly.

“Social Networking Fact Sheet.” Pew Research Centers Internet American Life Project RSS. Pew Research Center, Web. 08 Dec. 2014

Wann, M. (2009). Forward. Fat Studies: An Invitation to Revolution (pp. ix-xxv). New   York: NYU Press.

You Forgot the Foreingers

In discussing contemporary usage culture of the Internet, non-Western, and even non-American perspectives are almost wholly ignored. As Watkins so happily remarks, home Internet access in 1999 “among youth 8-18 years old, 57% of white youth, 35% of black youth, and 25% of Latino youth lived in homes with Internet access” has risen substantially (2012:1). The 2010 update of the same Kaiser Foundation data cited by Watkins gives the statistics as 88% of white youth, 78% of black youth, and 74% of Hispanic youth within the same age range (23). All jolly good, and rightfully so. The Internet provides access to a wealth of information and opportunities, social and economic. It is critical to having equal footing in the modern world.

However, Watkins thoroughly ignores non-American actors. On this front, Daniels (2009) does a little better than Watkins, but where Watkins discusses the numbers of the digital divide Daniels only works with the use. Daniels discusses “the mobilization of global awareness and opposition to the repressive Taliban regime by the Revolutionary Association of Women of Afghanistan” as “just one example of the effective use of the Internet by a global feminist organization” and the use by many women of “the Internet as a ‘safe space’ for resisting the gender oppression that they encounter in their day-to-day lives offline” (2009:108). Never though does Daniels gives numbers for Internet access abroad. Indeed, she explicitly refers to the digital divide only within an American context (2009:106).

One can measure the availability of “safe spaces” online in terms of the number of these spaces that exist, but are these spaces actually accessible? Imagine it like the question of the actual accessibility of an unoccupied (available) parking space on the opposite side of a busy two-way road. It exists, but does it make a practical impact on your efforts to park? As Daniels notes in discussing the digital divide in America, “the empirical research indicates that most of the apparent ‘digital divide’ in computer ownership and Internet access, has been the effect of class (or socioeconomic status) more than of gender and race” (2009:106, citing ‘Norris 2001’). So what, then, about the world outside of North America and Europe?

The conversation that ignores the global digital divide ignores several key concerns:

  1. Is the Internet available? Even if one does not have home Internet or access to it at a public terminal, would it be possible to install it? Some regions are geographically isolated from where data cables running between business hubs exist. There is still a serious physical component to Internet access.

    Global Internet access.

    Global Internet access. Click to access zoomable map.

  1. In what form is the Internet available? Is it censored, such as the so-called Great Firewall of China? Are there strict access controls with many websites blocked? Many countries officially only provide access to part of the Internet.
    http://issuu.com/freedomhouse/docs/fotn_2013_charts_and_graphs__web_/1
  1. To whom is the Internet available? This whole line of questing is based on the assumption that domestic US divides along economic lines exist among nations too. Can this line of thinking be shrunk down again? Is Internet infrastructure universally poorly developed in some countries, or does the same sort of class-based inequity exist abroad too? When Daniels discusses the Internet as a “safe space” in oppressive cultures, which women get to use the Internet?
  1. What can be done to increase access to the Internet? Can programs like Facebook’s Internet drones or Google’s Internet balloons actually increase access to the Internet? Is there a transition to Internet-capable phones in countries with low Internet rates but high mobile phone usage? Programs like One Laptop Per Child are criticized and ridiculed, but can their efforts or similar ones do anything to help fight global inequity, or are they wholly worthless?

    OLPC use in Kenya.

    OLPC use in Kenya.

My worry about Daniels and Watkins is not so much with what they say, as with what they do not say. I believe they should star applying lessons they have learned from the great closing of the American domestic digital divide and the use of the Internet by those economically privileged. Indeed, the cases made by Bauwens (2013) and Fuchs (2013) is that the Internet is the source and enabler of much wealth. The obvious solution then seems to be to focus on increasing Internet access. By encouraging construction of new cables and providing technology, physical limitations on access will no longer be a problem. Ultimately, if it is both true that wealth is a driver of access and that freedom of access and if the Internet drives wealth growth (by allowing people to participate in the increasingly globalized and networked economy), it should hopefully bring with it correlating features.

Let American academics not get caught up in our own successes, but instead shift our perspective to a larger one using lessons learned at home.

  1. Bauwens, Michel. “Thesis on Digital Labor in an Emerging P2P Economy.” Scholz, Trebor, ed. 2013. Digital Labor: The Internet As Playground and Factory. New York: Routledge.
  2. Fuchs, Christian. “Class and Exploitation on the Internet.” Scholz, Trebor, ed. 2013. Digital Labor: The Internet As Playground and Factory. New York: Routledge.
  3. Daniels, Jessie. 2009. “Rethinking Cyberfeminism(s): Race, Gender, and Embodiment.” WSQ: Women’s Studies Quarterly 37 (1): 101–24.
  4. Freedom House. “Freedom on the Net 2013: A Global Assessment of Internet and Digital Media.” 2013.
  5. Norris, Pippa. 2001. Digital Divide: Civic Engagement, Information Poverty, and the Internet Worldwide. New York: Cambridge University Press.
  6. One Laptop Per Child. Untitled background image from “Kenya: joyful collaboration” page on OLPC website. Jpg image.
  7. Rideout, Victoria J., Ulla G. Foehr, and Donald F. Roberts. 2010. “Generation M2: Media in the Lives of 8- to 18-Year-Olds.” Kaiser Family Foundation.
  8. Watkins, S. Craig. 2012. “Digital Divide: Navigating the Digital Edge.” IJLM 3 (2): 1–12.
  9. World Bank. “Internet users (per 100 people).” 2014.

Dealing with Death Online: The Impact of Social Media on Preparation and the Grieving Process

Since the beginning of time, humans have had to deal with the one inevitable fact of life: it ends. While we have succeeded at postponing our typical “deadline”, this fact remains the same and will likely remain the same for some time to come. Much of our lives are dedicated to accepting, debating and reasoning with death and the existential questions that arise as to what comes after. We are often surprised by death, but we also spend much of our lives preparing for it and dealing with it. However, recently, a new dimension has been added to the preparation and the grieving process, a dimension that has both the power of healing and hurting the loved ones who are left behind:

As a relatively new technology, with an (initially) young user base, social media has not yet had to deal with death as extensively as it soon will. Even so, in the first eight years of Facebook’s existence, an estimated 30 million users died. Approximately 428 users die every hour, 10,237 die every day, and 312, 500 die every month [http://mashable.com/2014/06/24/social-media-death/]. This raises a somewhat depressing question: when will there be more profiles of dead users than living ones? If Facebook continues to expand its membership at the same rate this should happen around 2130. However, if Facebook stops growing, dead profiles will outnumber the living by 2065.

This creates logistical and philosophical concerns for social media companies. What do you do with all of this data? What procedures do you put in place to prepare for user death? How do you ensure that your site doesn’t just become a technological graveyard?

As with most technologies, this necessitates a deep understanding of the user base. For many parents, in particular, Facebook can provide a unique opportunity to digitally capture and memorialize their child. Social media accounts can serve as a living continuation of the deceased, an evolving memory book of photos, videos, and writing. People can visit a loved one’s page to scroll through his/her pictures, read and reread his/her thoughts, and, perhaps most importantly, connect to and grieve with fellow mourners. These online spaces often surpass, in life, their users, as friends and family continue to share photos, memories, and experiences and celebrate birthdays and other occasions.

However, when handled poorly, these spaces can quickly turn into a source of distress for mourners. The automation of social media sites means that they can become a place of creepy suggestions or unwanted reminders. For example, they may “suggest” people to friend/follow/like who have already passed or use a deceased’s previous online activity for advertisement purposes. Those now-deceased users who were afflicted with a computer virus before they passed will find themselves continuing to “post from the grave” – a disturbing and upsetting phenomenon for their friends and family. Over the past few years, highly emotional legal battles have occurred over the ownership of deceased user’s profiles. Social media companies are left in a difficult position: they can’t violate their own privacy restrictions but have no way of deciphering if, and to whom, the dead user wanted their information shared. How much access do you grant a grieving family? As the legal system attempts to modernize itself, conflicts have arisen between state and federal law resulting in lengthy and costly court preceding’s. While some companies have attempted to alleviate these issues by implementing their own policies, the law still finds itself ill equipped to handle this pervasive problem. Alongside this issue, each year identity thieves abuse the personal information of more than 2.5 million dead people [https://www.yahoo.com/tech/heres-what-happens-to-your-data-after-you-die-101447039569.html]. How do these companies protect their dead users whilst also providing for grieving loved ones?

The above infographic outlines the current policies of major online service providers. Of all of these, Google is the only one that allows the user to plan for the inevitable. Their “Inactive Account Manager”, described above, solves logistical issues of data space (with the download and delete function) and legal issues of ownership and access (with their explicitly outlined “will” of sorts). In my opinion, this would be a fantastic solution for many companies such as LinkedIn, Yahoo, Amazon, and Apple.

However, I don’t think that sites such as Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram should implement this policy. These sites serve a different, more personal purpose as both memory books and places of community. I believe that to delete these accounts would almost be to prescribe a second death. Instead, I think that these companies should implement Facebook’s policy of “memorializing” accounts. This essentially freezes the account (securing it from hackers/virus posts and removing it from features such as birthday reminders and “people you may know”) whilst still allowing current friends to post to the page and tag the deceased in photos. Like many other online service providers, Facebook requires official documentation of proof of death to do this. This will prove to be cumbersome for many users (especially those in developing countries) but, since memorialization is permanent, I believe it is a necessary security measure. Unfortunately, to download content from Facebook you still need to obtain a court order. I would suggest that, in regards to this issue, Facebook policy combines with Google’s policy of an “Inactive Account Manager” to avoid the added stress and cost of time in court. I think that these two models (in combination) could prove to be particularly useful for many platforms. However, as social media companies attempt to adapt to their aging (and dying) populations, many practical, legal, and philosophical bumps will undoubtedly mark the road.

Fundamentally, social media has allowed us to transcend typical social boundaries of time and space. We have formed a second self, an “extension of the mental self” that people can interact with regardless of consent, physical presence…or pulse?[http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bianca-bosker/liveson-social-media-afterlife_b_2735382.html]. If we carry out this logic to an extreme, it only makes sense for this self to continue on posthumous – but how? The issue of online death continues to grow as more and more users leave their digital legacies online. Pragmatic and emotional anxieties surrounding death are enhanced by the growing importance of social media in our lives. We’re now advised to make an inventory of our digital assets, figure out what we want to happen to our stuff, and assign someone to be our digital executor (despite the fact that much of this violates service agreements). Companies such as Password Box’s “Legacy Locker” provides a tool to make this process easier and many other companies have been formed to offer similar services. Other companies are taking it a step further. “DeadSocial” allows its users to compose a series of messages that will be sent out (posthumous) via Facebook and Twitter at specific times. “LivesOn” uses twitter bots powered by algorithms to study your patterns and create a personal digital afterlife so that “When your heart stops beating, you’ll keep tweeting”.

As is often the case, the technology is developing faster than we are able to analyze the potential effects on our society. It is unclear just how these new companies, and the policies implemented by social media services, will impact those who are mourning but it is certainly clear that they will have an impact.

Additional Thoughts:

Will my great, great grand children be able to see my Facebook profile? Will it replace the traditional photo album? Will it continue to post on my behalf forever? How will the sheer number of profiles be managed? Or will Facebook soon simply be used as a memorial site, to remember and reflect on loved ones?

“For Pamela Rutledge, director of the Media Psychology Research Centre in Massachusetts, sites such as DeadSocial are a “digital extension” of people leaving letters to be read after they die. For her, apps that create artificial messages on behalf of the deceased are more problematic. “What do we do if someone uses this new extension of time in a way that torments or stalks its receivers?” asks Rutledge. “Death is the ultimate lack of accountability.” And if the future of social media platforms is one haunted by digital ghosts in the machine, would you still log on?”

– http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bianca-bosker/liveson-social-media-afterlife_b_2735382.html

Works Cited:

https://www.yahoo.com/tech/heres-what-happens-to-your-data-after-you-die-101447039569.html

http://mashable.com/2014/06/24/social-media-death/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/03/01/facebook-death_n_2787529.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bianca-bosker/liveson-social-media-afterlife_b_2735382.html

http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/08/how-social-media-is-changing-the-way-we-approach-death/278836/

http://www.deadsoci.al

http://mashable.com/2010/10/11/social-media-after-death/

http://www.thedigitalbeyond.com/online-services-list/

http://www.theguardian.com/media/shortcuts/2013/feb/18/death-social-media-liveson-deadsocial

A Racialized Online Environment: YouTube’s Profit-Driven “Hood Pranks”

In 2005, three former PayPal employees launched YouTube as a “consumer media company for people to watch and share original videos worldwide through a web experience.” In 2006, the platform became the fastest growing website on the Internet. YouTube’s content managers quickly realized that they were not fully realizing the financial potential of their creation and, as a result, introduced video advertising the next year. The website is projected to generate more than a billion dollars in marketing revenue alone in 2014. Users, who typically receive 55% of the income, are therefore incentivized to post controversial and, in the case of “hood pranks,” immoral content in order to increase their online viewership and personal salaries.

Untitled

A “hood prank” on YouTube is typically characterized as a video in which an amateur comedian enters a predominantly African-American neighborhood in order to elicit violent behavior on camera. The proliferation of such videos on YouTube can be traced to a Russian male, Vitaly Zdorovestskiy, who in 2012 decided to dress up as a zombie and terrorize African Americans in Miami’s historically black downtown area. The video quickly went viral and received nearly thirty million views. Despite the video’s inconspicuous title—“Miami’s Zombie Attack Prank”—Vitaly’s motives are blatantly clear. In a span of three minutes, the user chases after eighty African Americans and makes a deliberate effort to show he is filming near Miami’s MLK Drive. Based on contemporary estimates, the video generated over sixty thousand dollars for Vitaly Zdorovestskiy.

Untitled

As the genre of videos was popularized, profit-driven users felt the need to create increasingly lewd and disturbing videos in black neighborhoods. As a result, African Americans defended themselves and were unfairly characterized as irrational and violent. OckTV, an account managed by the Ettayim brothers from New York, became one of the worst perpetrators of the trend in early 2014. With titles like “Domestic Abuse in Public!” “Stealing Strangers’ Money Prank!” “Selling Cocaine to a Security Guard!” and “Can I Kick You!?” the two males quickly garnered national attention and received millions of views on each of their videos. Viewers repeatedly racialized the understandable and rational reactions from innocent pedestrians in uncensored YouTube comments.

          Despite international condemnation, OckTV continued to post videos every month and accounts were generated in an effort to profit from the controversial practice. Today, many new comedic users attempt to establish themselves through this medium. With small initial fan bases, these users often push the racialized standard in a self-perpetuating process for revenue and fame. A recent video in Oakland, for instance, features a young man impersonating a police officer and slapping handcuffs on individuals walking on the sidewalk or engaged in conversation with friends and family members.

Untitled

Unfortunately, this trend will continue as long as YouTube continues to allow users to profit off of racist “pranks.” Indeed, the most disturbing financial aspect of these videos is that Google and YouTube also profit from them. As previously mentioned, the company receives nearly half of the revenue from each video. Clearly, there is an imperative for institutional intervention that has gone unacknowledged for far too long in the online community. The media is powerless in stopping the trend on its own. On the contrary, media attention generates more viewers and incentivizes unscrupulous users to participate in the lucrative practice. Despite the efforts of users like RicemanTV, people will unfortunately continue to make and watch “hood pranks” for personal enrichment and entertainment. It is sad and discouraging that people even feel the need to make such videos. I look forward to the day when people will cease to think in racial terms. Until then, online content managers will need to police cases of discrimination in a manner that creates a safe online experience for every user, regardless of their background.

Works Cited

“Are Black Guys Violent? (Social Experiment).” YouTube. September 10, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb4GfbR98EE.

Broderick, Ryan. “Meet The Two Brothers Behind The Shocking “Hood Prank” YouTube Videos People Can’t Stop Sharing.” BuzzFeed. August 7, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014. http://www.buzzfeed.com/ryanhatesthis/meet-the-two-brothers-behind-ocktv-hood-pranks.

“Can I Kik You Prank!?” YouTube. September 2, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaiaaEbbkwE.

Faughnder, Ryan. “YouTube U.S. Ad Revenue to Cross $1 Billion This Year, EMarketer Says.” Los Angeles Times. September 11, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014.

Freeman, B., and S. Chapman. “Is “YouTube” Telling or Selling You Something? Tobacco Content on the YouTube Video-sharing Website.” Tobacco Control, 2007, 207-10. Accessed November 25, 2014. http://www.jstor.org.ezp-prod1.hul.harvard.edu/stable/20748159.

Garrahan, Matthew. “YouTube Advertising Revenue Surges 50% to $5.6bn.” Financial Times. December 11, 2013. Accessed November 25, 2014. http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/377ed152-6220-11e3-bba5-00144feabdc0.html#axzz3K7hCL3z1.

Glenn, Pia. “I Only Hope That the Hood Pranks…” Twitter. July 25, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014. https://twitter.com/PiaGlenn/status/492818268843810816.

Kaufman, Leslie. “Chasing Their Star, on YouTube.” The New York Times. February 1, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014.

“Miami Zombie Attack Prank!” YouTube. June 2, 2012. Accessed November 25, 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4awVqRr1eCo.

Readhead, Harry. “Pranksters Warned.” The UK Metro. July 12, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014. http://metro.co.uk/2014/07/12/pranksters-told-they-are-putting-their-lives-in-jeopardy-after-latest-jokes-turn-violent-4795567/.

Schilling, Dave. “Stop Using Black People as Props for Viral Videos | VICE | United States.” VICE. June 27, 2014. Accessed November 25, 2014. http://www.vice.com/read/ranking-the-racism-of-the-hood-pranks-phenomenon-twir-845.

The Power of Viral?

All of the readings from this week focused on the viral power of the internet and when it can be potentially used for good. Just think about the positive qualities of modern technology. Information and ideas can be disseminated faster than ever and communities of people can be united across the world via online engagement spaces. Everything happens much faster and is exposed to the public eye at a rate never before seen or experienced. The whole concept of something going “viral” and taking over these online spaces (albeit normally for a short period of time) is potentially problematic if there is no productive follow up to the initial act, or if the viral thing is not something that is good in the first place. For the sake of this blog post I will talk about some of the positive aspects of the web for social good.

The internet is powerful because of numbers. The sheer access that the majority of people have now a days to connect and share information is incredible. It is extremely easy for people to voice their opinions and share their thoughts in a public domain (think stream of consciousness twitter, or Facebook rants). Every day it seems like someone new is trying to crowd source to get funding for their new project. Last week a friend of mine was looking to raise $300 for her Costa Rica trip this summer and today the first things I saw on my newsfeed when I went to Facebook was this.

 Ethan Mollick discusses the methods used in crowd sourcing and kick starter campaigns and why they ultimately fail or are successful. The idea of generating unregulated funds from the general public is a relatively new concept and something that brings up a lot of conversations about privacy, obligation, and group manipulation and marketing. Although this isn’t in the realm of activism directly, it still shows the power of the internet, and if it is this easy for people to back a project monetarily, imagine how easy it is to back free ideas.

When there are multiple people on the same platform sharing ideas and interacting, it practically creates the breeding grounds for uniting activism and bringing to light issues that normally would take a while to gain followers and traction. The Zuckerman reading discusses the Arab spring movement and censorship in China in conjunction with activist movements online. The Arab spring movement was as successful as it was in gaining support quickly and bringing the public eye to governmental injustices via photos, tweets, video streams, and posts that broadcast the movement for the whole world to follow. It was there in front of our eyes. We could not turn away. While I observe the speed with which action was taken in this case, I can’t help but think of other movements in the past, before the rampant use of technology, and how ideas traveled back then. My mind jumps to the Civil Rights movement and sit-ins and marches.

counter-sit-in[1]

Selma_to_Montgomery_Marches[1]

I think of how these would have been publicized probably by word of mouth or by flyers. There would be no mass texts, no Facebook groups, no catchy videos to post and share with your friends to get them excited about joining you. What might have happened if the people at the Greensboro sit in had cell phones and could text their friends or live tweet about it? I can’t help but draw parallels to what we are seeing in Ferguson today and how the same situation is seen in a more public eye today and it has quickly become a daily topic of conversation. Likewise, in looking at comparative timelines of both the Civil Rights movement and the Arab Spring movement, we see that in the Arab Spring movement action was obviously seen sooner.

civilrights[1]

article-2051683-0E77AB1E00000578-734_634x358_popup[1]

I can’t help but wonder though if something about the lack of technology in the past made people devoted to the cause more dedicated since they worked all that much harder to gain support. Without the ease of the world just a click away each step to get followers and expose the injustices in the world, I could understand how every member mattered more. When there are so many people following a mass movement very easily it seems that some of the camaraderie built from mutual struggle is lost. At the same time I can see how perhaps the same ideals are still present in the more modern context and technology hasn’t changed the nature of relationships in activism, but rather created new ways of doing the same thing. I think of code words used by people of various groups for example to connote meeting places safe from the prying eye of the policing public. In the same article mentioned before Zuckerman discusses how people in China used code words to talk about censorship since the word “censor” triggered keyword filters and alerted authorities. They used Mandarin homonyms to beat the system and have an underground (yet still very public) conversation. In a way this mirrors the physical policing of organizing in the past in this new modern web space. The same dynamics of policing are still at play just in more subtle, less immediately violent ways.

140812-ferguson-police-4a_8e17302df8b8fc3a893931ba7505d731[1]

One new way of visible online activism is through Twitter hashtags as we discussed earlier in this course. Suey Park elaborates on the politics of Twitter hashags and says that, “We use Twitter to remember we are not alone — or crazy — but instead part of a collective struggle.” The platform of a public domain unites people in common struggle. The hashtag “#hasjustinelandedyet” is a good example of one positive way that the twitter community pointed out racism and help one woman accountable for her words. By being part of the public space, her once problematic inner thoughts were exposed to the world and communities united to call her out. If she had just said this to her friend and then someone overheard and told some friends and then maybe they shared the story with a few more people, it would not have had the same traction that it did in this very public space. Communities can also be created by in and out groups of who can use and appropriate certain hashtags. Park notes that “#NotYourAsianSidekick” a hashtag that she started to talk about the appropriation of Asian culture in media, “has never existed in a vacuum–it exists in a continuum, within a women of color feminist genealogy — it is the continuation of a dialogue, of a series of efforts that have had successes and failures.”  These hashtags and forms of online activism need to be seen in the larger context of their use and the conversations from which they are born.

Overall in my lifetime I have seen the internet mobilize and unite people across the world in more positive ways than not. There is real power here and we need to take advantage of that when we can, but also understand the implications of public dialogues and movements in these nebulous spaces. How can we make sure we are using it productively and taking advantage of this source at our fingertips.

Questions to think about:

What might activist campaigns (like I,Too, Am Harvard) in the age of the internet have looked without the internet?

How has policing played out in these spaces?

What are some of the positives and negatives of concepts/ideas/campaigns that “go viral”? How can we compare the rise and fall of these viral concepts with the rise and fall of past movements before the internet? Is there something problematic happening here or is speed and brevity everything?

Sources:

Mollick, Ethan R. 2013. The Dynamics of Crowdfunding: An Exploratory Study. SSRN Scholarly Paper ID 2088298. Rochester, NY: Social Science Research Network. http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2088298

Zuckerman, Ethan. 2014. “Cute Cats to the Rescue? Participatory Media and Political Expression.” In Youth, New Media and Political Participation. http://dspace.mit.edu/handle/1721.1/78899

Park, Suey, and Eunsong Kim. 2014. “Hashtags as Decolonial Projects with Radical Origins.” Model View Culture. Accessed August 18. https://modelviewculture.com/pieces/hashtags-as-decolonial-projects-with-radical-origins

http://www.buzzfeed.com/alisonvingiano/this-is-how-a-womans-offensive-tweet-became-the-worlds-top-s

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/erikanderslang/be-the-ball-a-documentary-on-golf-and-sprituality

http://itooamharvard.tumblr.com/