Community, community, community. Even after four months of endlessly discussing this concept in not one but TWO classes (see also: IST 402H Community Informatics), and reading countless blog entries via Pligg, and even more blog entries from Twitter friends about the role of Twitter in community building, I am not sure how or where to even begin synthesizing my thoughts on ‘community.’

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.

I wanted to respond to Becci’s synthesis post, A Comment on Identity.  In it, Becci describes the pride she has for her name despite having no control over it, and how she felt when she changed her last name due to marriage: both saddened and liberated.  Reading this reminded me of a thought that is more prominent in my head at the beginning of semesters: the way we introduce ourselves to a new class, work group, etc.  Some people say “I am [name] and I am from Department X” while others say “My name is [name] and I am from Department X.”  I first noticed this as an undergrad, when these types of introductions became regular, and I actually started to go through a mini-debate in my head (”I am” vs “My name is”) when I was faced with an upcoming introduction. This internal debate soon became the norm, almost a personal joke for which I was recognizing the setup and making personal note of the punchline delivered by each of the other group members.  When my turn came, I would simply introduce myself.  The funny thing is that this brought me yet another connection between identity and community.

I eventually realized that I was subconsciously being very consistent with my introductions about myself, and that the group was as well.  You see, when I was introducing myself to a brand new group of people — such as I did on the first day of IST 402H — I introduced myself as “My name is Brandon and (blah blah blah).”  But in a recent committee meeting I attended, where most of us were already familiar with each other but introduced ourselves for the benefit of the few new members, I introduce myself as “I am Brandon and (blah blah blah).” Apparently the “blah blah blah” is always relevant.

My familiarity and role within the community affects the way I present my identity.  To a new group, I say “My name is Brandon.”  It’s as if I am saying, “All I can tell you right now is my name, and that is the basis of my identity to you.  Hopefully, through our community’s actions and our interactions, more of me will emerge so that I am more than just a name to you.”  But when introducing myself to a group where relationships already exist — you know, the awkward type that I described above — I say, “I am Brandon.”  But I am really saying, “Hi friends, I’ve been a part of your community for a while.  I am Brandon — yes, that Brandon.  The one who did [embarrassing incident] and is responsible for [task or action that saved or brought joy to the group].  You already have linked these events and my actions to the name “Brandon,” so I am merely telling you that I am Brandon.”

Funny how much thought can come from someone expressing the joy and sadness they experienced when losing their last name.  And funny how my fiancee has expressed similar thoughts regarding the upcoming end of her life and identity as a Ventura, despite the added benefits of moving up further in alphabetical order when she takes my last name.  And funny how she and I have started to create a new identity for ourselves through a portmanteau of our last names: Rubentura.  Is Rubentura our identity or is it our more adventurous and public alter-ego, as some of our friends have described it?  I can ‘answer’ to that question comes from an excerpt of my post on identity that Donna included in her entry: My identity is who I am — or is it simply who I perceive myself to be? It is who I am to others — or is it simply who others perceive me to be?

Wow! Four months ago, identity was just a word to me. When I used it, it was usually followed by “theft” or “crisis,” depending on context. Today, after nearly completing CI597C, the word is much more than an adjective prefix (I just made that term up!). It is a conversation starter; a living, breathing, abstract concept; and a conundrum of sorts. My identity is who I am – or is it simply who I perceive myself to be? It is who I am to others – or is it simply who others perceive me to be?

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.

Radio Lab recently had a show called (So-Called) Life in which a woman in need of a transplant test her children’s DNA. They find that the children match the father’s DNA, but not hers! Additional testing reveals that the DNA in her blood is completely different from the DNA in her saliva — she is, essentially, two different people.

<SPOILER ALERT>

Basically, doctors have concluded that she is a chimera. That is, her mother was pregnant with two embryos that fused within the first few days of life. They did not blend, but rather the new embryo contained some of the parts from baby A and some of the parts from baby B — she was her own twin sister. To put it into perspective, if the eggs had not completely fused, this woman would have been Siamese Twins. Instead, she is both twins in one body.

She started talking about the thought the she is two people, that her salivary glands differ from her circulatory system, that she has two different bodies inside of her. Naturally, this raised some interesting questions. What is her identity? Is she two people? Is she one person? What is a person, if the DNA suggests that she is two persons?