I suppose I can start with a few good definitions I have heard, and then relate them back to CI 597C. First up is from my blog entry, A Sense of Virtual Community, which I made in response to a reading assignment in my Community Informatics class. The four criteria that McMillan and Chavis (1986) use to define virtual community are:

• Feelings of membership
• Feelings of influence
• Integration and fulfillment of needs
• Shared emotional connection

You may recall that I joined CI 597C late, in week 3 of the semester. Even though the group had only physically met once at that point, I felt like an outsider, like each of you were intimately acquainted. This probably had less to do an assumption of bonding over two weeks as it did with my incorrect assumption that the entire class was in the same graduate program, but nonetheless I felt like an outsider, a College of Ag student walking through the dangerous woods of the College of Education. I certainly did not experience feelings of membership, influence, or a shared emotional connection, as suggested by McMillan and Chavis.

It was not until I had a role in what would later be known as Team Tweet that I began to feel any of these things. It was my ability to find a place in this smaller community that let me feel like a member of the bigger CI597C community, when I had something to share as I recapped what Team Tweet had discussed and decided. It was when I saw a blog entry on Diffusion, Paul Revere, and Cole Camplese receive a still-standing record 11 votes that I felt I had influence over the community. I also felt my influence when I offended a member of the larger community in a blog post about Have Nots that I felt I had influence. And when members of my group told me they disagreed with that entry while also publicly defending my right to express my thoughts, I felt a shared emotional connection with them and the classmate whom I had deeply offended.

When reflecting on these moments, I realized that CI 597C is a community — for me anyway, because I engage in the community. I also realize that I am only comfortable calling CI 597C a community from mid-February on, as before that I (or it?) was lacking McMillan & Chavis’s elements of community. Then again, if these elements had already existed for other classmates, does that mean it could be a community for them but not me? This seems to relate to engagement and Wenger and those sorts of things?

Second up is Lawrence Lessig’s keynote speech at the 2008 TLT Symposium. I particularly like the part where he described mashups and YouTube as the modern equivalent of “young people together singing the songs of the day or the old songs.” Donna further expands the metaphor of a community gathering on the porch via office chairs and computers in her post, “Community: Sitting on the Front Porch.” I feel very fortunate to have had a group of intelligent, motivated people with whom I could sing the songs of the day or the old songs. The creative energy at my house in early April, when Mike, Liz, Donna and I were working on our discussion/preso for Twitter, was absolutely electric.

I have never been a part of a team that worked together so well so quickly. Each of us recognized everybody’s respective strengths, and immediately we started creating and accepting roles that suited our strengths. It must’ve been a neat scene to see: Mike has two computers open to work on video and audio, to create the Caveman transitions and other fun things we had planned. Lis is on her computer, creating wiki pages for the hands-on activity and other discussion questions we planned to ask. I was on my computer, finding and creating the images and materials we needed for our backchannel. Donna, who still refuses to acknowledge her technological prowess when around us, brought forth her mastery of academic literature by dissecting Wenger, and even found a gazillion Twitter applications for us to explore. It was a community of practice, a group of young people sitting around and creating new songs to sing and enjoying the simple act of creation. We even expanded this later in the week by meeting at Otto’s for dinner, drinks, and trivia — and two more hours of brainstorming for our discussion/preso.

Third is Becci’s question about the community membership status of Carla, the physical lurker in our class, which she raised in her post “Is Carla a member of our CI597 community?” I expanded her question to not only examine Carla’s membership in our community, but also the membership of my fiancee, other classmates’ family members/roommates, and other lurkers (hello, if you are still reading this!), in my post, “Re: ‘Peripheral’ Community Members, like Carla, Lurkers (hello!), and My Fiancee.”

Interestingly — or fittingly — this conversation happened before Twitter became a part of our lives. I imagine Becci’s question would have looked different had we been able to include micala, reginaldgolding, stevier, robin2go, and apetersen in the discussion, given the emergence of the Twitter community. I also find it interesting that Carla has not been to any classes since Becci’s post, and none of us have pointed this out. Did anyone even notice?

Finally, with relation to Twitter and community, I am preparing to end my time as a student here at Penn State. One of the options I face is moving back to Philadelphia, where I was born and raised. While I am excited at the possibility of physically rejoining friends with whom I can only communicate via phone, I am also saddened that this scenario means I will not be immediately, physically connected to people who share my interest and passion for technology and innovation, such as the PSU Twitter Community. I wonder if I will be able to create, or start, a similar Tweet Meet group in Philly. I currently only follow one person from the Philly area, and there is no connection between us other than somehow our Twitter paths crossed. In terms of trying to fit in professionally in Philadelphia, I wonder if she is part of a bigger network of Twitterers, or how to find/join that community. I know that the PSU Twitter Community will still be there to share Week In Photos, interesting articles, and ideas, but I wouldn’t be able to participate in the Tweet Meets and we have all acknowledged there is something beneficial about face to face interactions.

Funny how 4 months ago I would have laughed at the thought that Twitter would be a worry of mine in case I move to Philly, and laughed at the idea it could be such a powerful tool of community. But that is a small example of how largely my thinking and perception has changed as a result of the Spring 2008 semester.

Even after so many questions and conversations about identity during the past four months, I can safely and confidently say that my definition of identity has not changed during the past four months. That would be too simple and finite, implying that I have reached the end, or a destination in terms of understanding. No, my definition of identity has not changed; it has evolved, moving forward along an existing journey, with more twists and turns ahead in every future conversation. You know the conversations: after a few minutes, someone makes an excellent point that really drives home the idea of identity and silences everyone for a few seconds as they retreat into contemplation of the idea. Then, someone begins, “That makes sense, but…” and sheds light on the exception to that rule, the one that reignites the discussion for another round.

Really, is this evolution and flexible certainty over the definition of identity any different than my identity itself? I have been the same person for the past 10 years of my life…for the most part. I am the same person with this set of friends as I am with that set of friends…generally speaking, of course. I know who I am…usually. I behave predictably…most of the time.

In a previous blog post about an individual’s identity varying between communities of which they belong, I state that the same person demonstrating one set of knowledge and abilities can be simultaneously viewed differently by two different communities. The example I gave is that I see myself as someone interested in researching camps. In the research community, I am sometimes identified as a ‘camp expert,’ whereas in the camp community I am sometimes identified as a ‘research expert.’ Both the research and camp communities would find the idea of me identified as an expert in their respective community to be humorous. What define my identity for each community are the elements of my identity that set me a part from other members in that community.

Naturally, this led to discussion with classmates who disagree with this idea. The ideas and arguments include identity being as simple as your name or avatar, how others perceive you, or a thing that resides within you. Who is right? Is anyone right? Are we all right? Is one of us more right than any of the others?

While thinking about the idea that identity is strictly something that resides within you, I remembered a sound bite from a talk show. It occurred after season 1 of Donald Trump’s The Apprentice had ended, when contestants were doing reunions and other talk show appearances. Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth was addressing how she was portrayed on the show in similar fashion to her quotes in this article about “the evil sista of reality television.” Omarosa was the villain of season 1, but she continually claims that she was the victim of editing, and that she is really a pleasant person. The other person at the interview said something to the effect of, “They can only edit footage that they have, sweetheart.” In essence, the other person was telling Omarosa that she can claim the screaming, aggressiveness, unhappiness, and laziness were part of an attack on her but those actions and traits are part of who she is. The editors couldn’t make that up unless it really existed.

Identity can be defined and perceived in many ways. It can be split into little bite size samples, like appetizers at Fridays, with different people each getting a little slice. Sometimes you control who eats which appetizer, and sometimes the other people grab at the plate before you even see it. Identity can also be a concrete thing that changes when viewed by others, like a piece of art in a gallery. Determining whether the Mona Lisa of your identity is smiling or frowning really is in the eye of the beholder, even though the expression is identical on the canvas. Identity can be defined by an individual and redefined by others – or the individual.

I wonder what my identity is with regards to my classmates in CI597C. Am I a pain the butt, or a humble apologizer, thanks to my post on Have Nots? Am I a technologically fluent person who likes to talk and philosophize? Am I a camp dork? Am I a Mac lovin’, Tweet rockin’ geek? Am I someone who loves The Office and Scrubs and invites you over to watch? Am I a car-selling, house-buying, bike-riding, job-hunting adjective-verb lover who shares with the community? Or are these suggestions merely my own construct of my identity, and how I think and prefer I appear to you, based on who I think I am when I am around you. I’d be interested in hearing you tell me what you think my identity is…

The point is this: in the argument of whether your identity is something that resides in you or is determined by other people, you have to remember that they can only edit footage that they have, sweetheart.

Tweet Talk 3 – 2008 TLT Symposium.mp3

As previously mentioned, I am enrolled in a class that studies Community Informatics – the study of how communities use information technology to accomplish and develop their goals.

In week 7 we read some articles that studied the development of community and engagement in virtual communities. I previously mentioned a paper by Blanchard and Markus that provides definitions for physical and virtual communities, and Sense of Community and Sense of Virtual Communities. That article is available on the Week 7 section of our class website (click here) or on my previous blog post.

The theme of this week’s class is Identity, and it directly coincides with the theme of this week’s Wenger’s readings, which Scott and Cole mentioned are moving into the realm of Identity. The Week 8 section of the class web site (click here) has three articles on the subject that you may find interesting, relevant, or helpful in making sense of our class themes.

Take a look around the site. I think you will find multiple weeks with topics and readings that you may find applicable to our discussions on community, identity, and design. Some of them are even mildly interesting =)

I shaved Tweet Talk 1 down to 23 minutes, and I added some music tracks that I made up for the intro, transitions, and finale. I also converted it to mp3.

Listen to this new version and enjoy!

Tweet Talk 1 (edited).mp3

Here is the first podcast by my group, The Tweets. We begin by discussing Twitter before tackling some of the other, tougher issues and themes of this class. Podcasting seemed to be a very good way to document our group discussions, as all four of us could participate without having to stop to type or write notes for record-keeping. The next half hour was intellectually fruitful, as conversation was able to flow uninhibited. We really made some good progress towards making sense of community, identity, and design — our three themes in the CI 597C Disruptive Technology course!

It is safe to say that the Tweets will be podcasting all of our group discussions in the future. Below is a link to the unedited Tweet Talk 1. Keep an eye out for Tweet Talk 1.1, which will have music and other fun transitions =)

Tweet Talk 1, from “Gaining Control of My Thoughts”

Some thoughts on identity…first, I’ll start with my title and lead-in.

Before I go any further, it is important to know that my primary
interest is non-formal education, specifically the camp industry, and I
have worked at a summer camp for the past 13 years of my life, as a
counselor and now Program Director. With that in mind, I recently (and
successfully) defended my comps exam. Many of my questions centered
around applying youth development concepts and theories to the world of
summer camps. Afterwards, my committee complimented me by sharing, to
paraphrase, that I am somewhat of an expert on camping. That made me
feel good.

Since I just built myself up, it is only fair that I knock myself
down. If I told my colleagues at the summer camp that, they would
laugh at me and probably ridicule PSU’s credibility for making such a
statement. Part of their warm response is because we are all sarcastic
jerks to each other and this is how we keep our egos in check. But I
think the main reason this response is that none of us see any one of
us as any more of an expert on camping than the rest of us (wow, that’s
quite the usage of “us” in one sentence). My camp colleagues see me
merely as one of them.

At the same time, the camp colleagues have declared me an expert on
youth development and literature, and often ask me for advice and to
recommend sources when they are in need of help. Please note, this is
in direct contradiction to the aforementioned sarcastic jerkiness
theory. Ahh, I feel good about myself again.

But here comes the kick in the knee: I will be the first to admit that
my research and academia skills are quite inferior, particularly
compared to the great minds that I theoretically encounter on a daily
basis in State College. Some of my PSU colleagues would likely laugh
at the thought of me being a youth development or literature expert
and, unlike the camp colleagues, they are generally nice, encouraging
people.

My point is this: I am a member of two different communities, the
summer camp community and the PSU research community. I don’t conduct
myself any differently in either community; in fact, I often try to do
things and complete projects that satisfy the demands and
responsibilities of both communities at the same time. Yet the
perception of my identity is different despite my uniform actions in
both communities. The camp community sees me as an expert in youth
development because I read more literature and am more familiar with
the academic community than the rest of the community, though my
research skills are quite ordinary in the academic community. On the
other hand, the academic community sees me as an expert on camping
because of my vast experience, understanding, and philosophical
abilities of the camp community, though my camp knowledge is quite
ordinary in the camp community.

Interesting how two different communities see me as an expert in the
opposite world, yet not in their own. My actions are important, but my
identity is dependent upon the context of the observer. Perhaps my
identity is not that I am an expert in camping or an expert in youth
development and literature, but that I am an expert in bridging these
two communities?

What do you think? Do you have any similar experiences, where two
worlds observe you as two different people based on the rest of the
community?