When I first read the course syllabus, I was a bit concerned as to how a digital humanities project would come to fruition and was unclear as to what exactly it entails. The only thing I was able to imagine was the use of digital texts, on devices such as E-readers and tablets, and online research tools, through the library databases and online journals. However, once I began to examine my own social media sites, I began to notice the authors on Twitter that I was following and how memes are being used to explain theoretical topics using digital and popular media. “Is this digital humanities though?” I asked myself.

Most notably on my daily Twitter newsfeed, I see new blog posts, photos with fans and book tour publications from authors such as Chuck Palahniuk, known mostly for Fight Club. However, even though Palahniuk is one of my personal favorites, he is more widely recognized as a “fan’s author,” which often negates his “literary and academic potential.” In contrast to using social media to connect more personally with his readers, I also see authors such as Iván Thays, a Peruvian author whose 2008 novel Un lugar llamado Oreja de Perro portrays the aftermath of the Sendero Luminoso terrorist movement, not only connects with his readers but also uses Twitter to engage in more critical conversations with other authors. In comparing these two authors, even Thays’ twitter handle “@moleskinlit” shows the more pretentious, literary angle due to the popularity of the MoleSkin journals among writers.

Chuck Palahniuk – Twitter

Ivan Thays – Twitter

Apart from social media, blogs and digital memes are also being created by students, professors, and activists, among others, to explain difficult, theoretical or political issues via photos and comedy. While not always accurate, these online texts are reaching large audiences via “retweets, likes and shares” that often closed conversations are being made more accessible to those whose professional lives may reside outside academia but still feel a passion or interest in engaging in a critical discussion.

Post-Structuralism Explained with Hipster Beards

Confused Cats against Feminism

But still, I ask myself, “Is this digital humanities?” Can these blogs gain enough merit to compete with scholars, and if this is the case, why should we continue studying within a formal setting? With online course and degree programs, will the digital humanities take place of the university classroom?

However, Dr. Baer’s in-class presentation highlights the benefits of producing knowledge through a digitized source because it allows scholars to collaborate without having to leave their home institution. Using filmed lectures and online discussion boards via Twitter handles, the scholars and students alike are able to engage in cross-cultural and cross-linguistic debates that will open the field to individuals who may not have access to traveling to conferences or attending presentations at other institutions. Through this presentation, I was beginning to answer the question of “What is digital humanities?” because it became clear that it is a combination of traditional scholarship with new technology, including Twitter, YouTube videos and video conferencing, among others. While I can see the benefits of incorporating digital media into a conference or classroom setting, I can’t help but think of the negative effects that will accompany such a change. Will conferences become a thing of the past? Will they all move to filming presentations and a subsequent, delayed Q&A session? Is it a utopic ideal to think that the humanities can function successfully via digital sources by removing the human element?

Now that the semester is coming to an end, I have a better understanding of what digital humanities consists, and following the group project, I have begun wondering if I will incorporate it into my own research. While I see the value of following online lectures, discussions and using multiple media outlets to engage and follow critical conversations, I’m not sure that I will fully commit myself to the digital humanities approach. On the one hand, it has taken about an hour to post this blog, trying to embed links and images, so maybe it’s just my unfamiliarity and lack of knowledge of new technology that is causing my apprehension. But, on the other, I find the human element to be an invaluable resource in the academic world. Having attended several conferences thus far, involving both graduate students and professors, I feel that meeting and engaging in intimate atmospheres and conversations has opened my mind to new avenues that I wouldn’t have considered previously within my own research. This semester, I attended the Midwest Popular Culture Association Conference in Indianapolis. My panel consisted of an advanced PhD candidate from Australia, who focused on the historical connection between Australia League Football and the gold rush, and a professor from Moorehead State University, whose specialty is in indigenous revolutions and contemporary hip-hop music in Africa, while I presented on the indigenous in Peruvian literature. Had our presentations been recorded and watched at different times, I don’t think it would have had as great of an impact as actually meeting these two individuals, discussing our different fields – Australia, Peru and Africa – while simultaneously identifying commonalities and offering suggestions.

So, am I sold on the digital humanities as the future of our field? Not necessarily. I do, however, see the value of incorporating it into our studies and am becoming more aware that I need to beef up my own personal technological skills if I want to stay relevant in the future.

“…we forget to look sideways…”

The Concept:

Minor Transnationalism, an anthology edited by Françoise Lionnette and Shu-mei Shih, both initiates and advocates the concept its title names—“minor transnationalism.” In the introduction, Lionnette and Shih observe a common fixity among approaches to the transnational, that being, to operate within a minor/major vertical, binary system.  They address four limitations of the minor/major dynamic: It neglects potential lateral connections; It reinforces oppositional identity politics; It denies the complexity and multiplicity of minorities; It obscures what has always been hybrid and relational.

I get the sense, however, that rather than spend too much time identifying limitations, Lionnette and Shih want to see the product of opening the dynamic to new, generative possibilities.  They have started a conversation about an alternative vision, wherein “subjects act and interact in fruitful, lateral ways” (2). In this vision, “the transnational…can be conceived as a space of exchange and participation wherever processes of hybridization occur and where it is still possible for cultures to be produced and performed without necessary mediation by the center” (5). What this project achieved is, to me, exciting; it serves as an example of the lateral hybridity it promotes.

My Encounter:

I’ll admit, I’ve had moments—yes, especially while writing this post—wherein “minor transnationalism” seems, though well-intentioned and motivational, chimerical.  Then I think, so what if it is? Does not a major gesture, sometimes, in causing the slightest shift, propel something or someone in a new direction, however slight?  And regardless of what quantifies a valid “change,” a shift has occurred.  My particular shift experience was brought on by a very a simple, casual statement on the opening page: “…our battles are always framed vertically, and we forget to look sideways to lateral networks that are not readily apparent” (1 emphasis added).  It is a simple reflection, perhaps, but it carries immense implications. Once we start looking sideways, who will be there? Who won’t be there that we were expecting? Who will there that we weren’t expecting?  Who will start showing up? Who will disappear?

Beyond my agreement that shifting from minor/major to minor–minor would open up connections in active and productive ways–that work against the homogenization of globalization–I wonder how this shift might accelerate the erosion of long-standing structures. If the minor becomes more full, does the major become more empty?  Who comprises the dominant group? If closely inspected, does it become an amalgamate in itself?  If the more minor categories open up, connect, form new bodies and amalgamates of bodies, will more bodies flood out of the major to populate those?  Will more bodies flood into the major?  Will both the major and the minor change? Could the minor networks spread not only around or between dominant vertical structures, but also may make room for the vertical to flatten and spread as well?  History says they have every reason not to, but what if they did?

As you can see, the idea of “looking sideways” has me asking a lot of questions; I’m not sure how they will manifest in my future work.  So far, they’ve only made me into a nuisance in my English Literature class by starting every comment with, “well, in the Transnational Theory course I’m taking….” But, I can see how the concept (among many others addressed in this course) has begun to seep into my approach, informing the way that I read.  What is more, it has altered my sense of from where I am reading.  I have been forced to face my own position in the world, which I have long ignored.  And I’m beginning to realize that the discomfort of its complexity and instability may be used in productive ways. At least I sincerely hope so.