In the wake of Blissdom Canada, I saw the following tweet.

I am not sure if Danielle was suggesting that it was a bad thing or a good thing, but my reaction was yes, please! Blog like it’s 2006 when I blogged about whatever I wanted and didn’t care who read it? Oh, yes.

2006: before I cared about comments, or promoting posts, or stats.

2006: when the extent of my community was searching keywords in wordpress.com and stumbling upon blogs that interested me – before I subscribed to anything and had my reader overflowing on a daily basis.

2006: when I wrote for myself about what mattered to me without worrying about what people might say on Twitter or Facebook – before I was concerned about trolls or what other people thought.

2006: when blogging was simpler.

This month marks my 5th blogiversary. 2006. This is what I said in my first post:

i hope this blog is filled with insightful, philosophical gems, but anticipate that the reality will be otherwise. i foresee random spewing of daily irritants and happenings.

(Oh, be quiet. Not capitalizing was cool back then).

Maybe Danielle gave me the answer I was looking for, or at least the inspiration to give myself permission to write with abandon.

Inspiration can come in the most unlikely of places. Thanks, Danielle.

I wasn’t planning to go to Blissdom Canada this year. When the tickets went on sale, I didn’t even try to buy one. I was two months away from giving birth and I had no idea what my baby would be like at 5 months old. Besides, I didn’t know who was speaking and as someone who has planned large-scale conferences, I just couldn’t bring myself to shell out money for TBD.

Twice, I was offered tickets to buy and twice, I declined. I didn’t really want to go. I didn’t see the value in it. Finally, a couple of weeks before the conference, someone offered to sell me her ticket, and I caved. Ultimately, I figured I’d regret not going. So, I decided I would to take Em and I knew there would be a lot of people I wanted to see. As October 13 approached, I got increasing excited.

I went. And, I came away with two very distinct impressions.

I don’t see the point of blogging conferences, aside from the social aspect. There, I said it. I just don’t see the value in terms of content. I felt this way about BlogHer, too. To me, it’s a lot of here is what worked for me, but that is not to say it will work for you. I don’t find that helpful. It’s great to hear success stories, but I want some information I can apply. I want something I can take away. I want something I can sink my teeth into that expands my knowledge base and maybe shifts my opinions on things. I want depth.

I think we need to move past who and what, and onto why and how.

What frustrated me most about the content was that, in many cases, it was delivered by the same people I’d heard it from before – last year at Blissdom Canada, in fact. Lovely people. People I admire and care about. But, the same people. Why? There is a wealth of perspectives available. There are people who have knowledge and stories to share. We are many. I want to hear a diversity of voices.

I want to hear from people who do social media for a living – and I am not talking about monetized blogs. I am talking about people who earn a living teaching, consulting, coaching, and creating success stories. Who are the people behind the scenes making big things happen? I want to hear about successful advocacy campaigns and how to engage people. There is a lot happening online that these conferences don’t tap into; there are people sitting in the sessions who are doing remarkable things.

I am not interested in monetizing my blog. I am not interested in working with brands. At all. It is just not going to happen. So, what does a blogging conference offer me? Where is the value?

My only answer is the people. Lovely, loving, accepting people. Like I said, I took Em to Blissdom Canada with me. I packed toys and diapers and changes of clothes into my over-sized purse, armed myself with my sling and headed off. I was a bit nervous. Would she be fussy? Would she be loud? Would people think her a nuisance?

I need not have worried. She was embraced – literally and figuratively. Her presence was not only welcome, it was requested. I nursed her during sessions to “thumbs up” instead of side-eyes. I carried an empty sling around because she was being held in people’s arms. In fact, I have never spent so little time with her! Women whisked her away so I could concentrate on a session, or so I could get my nails done, or get a massage, or so I could go to the bathroom…alone!

People cared for her and about her. And me.

My mom sent me a magnet that reads they say it takes a village to raise a child, but no one ever tells you where it is or how to get there.

I found a village at Blissdom – a community of women who knew enough and cared enough to give me a break. A community of women who didn’t just tolerate my daughter’s presence, but enjoyed it.

So, where does that leave me in evaluating the value of Blissdom Canada? Was it worth the money? I can’t decide, to be honest. The sense of community was invaluable, but is that the only reason to go? I’m not sure.

Most of what I’ve read since the conference has been positive. People seem to be basking in the after-glow. I don’t feel that. I have never felt that after a blogging conference. Maybe I’m doing it wrong. Maybe I need to manage my expectations. Maybe I need to accept that blogging conferences are blogging conferences and the content is just not for me. Maybe I need to spend my time and money at smaller-scale conferences or camps specific to my interests. Or, maybe nowhere at all.

What is your impression of content at large-scale blogging conferences?

Does the social aspect compensate for content if you don’t learn anything?

Do you go to a blogging conference to learn and grow? If not, why not set that standard?

A few days ago, I discovered that one of my favourite people on Twitter deleted her account. Her name is Christine. I had never met her, but I always appreciated her voice and perspective in my timeline.

When asked what happened to her account, her friend directed me to a blog post about her decision to leave. A lot in her post resonated with me, but what resonated most with me from Christine’s post was this:

I am shocked at the polar opposite viewpoints that exist in the world. They are shocking to me and at the same time, they are so distant because I am merely reading about them. It’s as if I’m having a dissonance with reality. I know it’s real but it doesn’t seem real. And other times, the reality is so stark against what exists in my head. It’s all this shifty, uncomfortable, unknowable realm of existence.

Yes.

I struggle so much with this. A lot of what I read online contaminates my mind, yet I feel like I need to read it because it is happening and true. Somewhere. I read about how people feel about my relationship and my children. I see how my relationship is politicized and how my kids’ identities are questioned and confused. I see people arguing about a hierarchy of oppression like it’s a competition – invalidating the lived experience of those deemed to be less oppressed than another. I read blatantly sexist, racist, and homophobic comments.

I am shocked by how freely people express ignorant and bigoted attitudes. I am shocked by what gets attention online – the speed at which negativity spreads astounds me. I am shocked by how much time, energy, and passion people devote to getting into other people’s business, especially when it doesn’t affect them, doesn’t hurt them (or anybody) and never will! I read tweets and articles people link to and often wonder where people get off. It’s too much and, sometimes, it sticks with me for days and longer. I still remember reading a tweet from someone who doesn’t believe in interracial relationships refer to mixed kids as rainbow babies (and not in a good way). I unfollowed her over a year ago. Still, I remember.

I expose myself to countless conflicting perspectives on how to parent and what I should be doing, eating, and boycotting. It’s exhausting. I read about gender identity development without any mention of the patriarchal ideals that influence it.

I live it. I know it exists. I don’t need to read about it every day. It’s too much. Too often.

I understand why Christine left Twitter; I have done it in the past. I deleted my original account years ago after a few months. I was uncomfortable. I felt so vulnerable to being judged and challenged for everything I tweeted. It stressed me out.

The question of authenticity wasn’t an issue for me, though. I’ve been living online in some capacity since 1994. I’ve participated in chat rooms, forums, Myspace and am now active on Facebook and Twitter (among other sites). For 17 years, I’ve been meeting people from the internet, in person and I’ve never had a bad experience -awkward, yes, but not bad.

There is an element of the unknown online. People can be whomever and whatever they want. The veil of anonymity allows them to express themselves to a degree they do not feel free to in person. Because of that, it’s hard to know how consistent people’s online personas are with their offline personalities. Generally, I don’t really think about it. If I like an online persona, then it doesn’t matter to me how “real” the person behind the screen is being. If we ever meet in person, I’ll find out.

Personally, I am pretty consistent. The overlap between my life online and my life offline keeps me in check. On Twitter, I interact with dozens of people I know in real life and all but a handful of my Facebook friends I know personally (many of whom are relatives). That said, even if there was opportunity for me to be different online, I don’t feel the need to. If I am not comfortable saying something as myself, to people I know, it doesn’t need to be said.

Recently though, I have been feeling that living online and being connected all the time has left me feeling disconnected from my life, offline. I feel like I don’t notice things I used to notice and I don’t celebrate the little things that should bring me joy – I just don’t pay attention to what is around me in the same way I once did. So, immediately after reading Christine’s post, I deleted both my Twitter and Facebook apps from my Blackberry. No longer can I lie in bed tweeting, or post a pic on the fly, or potentially update everyone on every little thing that happens to me in a day. I can no longer check my Twitter mentions while having coffee, or wish I could while I am driving around. In order to be connected, I have to actually open up my computer and log in. I think it’ll be a healthier way for me to live – especially with the baby coming. I will be able to focus on what is in front of me and pay attention to those who share my physical space.

I benefit a lot from living online. I have found old friends and met new ones. I can almost immediately get advice from moms I trust. I can keep in touch with family and give them access to recent pictures of Q. I have learned a lot and I learn something valuable everyday.

I have the world at my fingertips, but sometimes I need to step out of that world and focus on the physical one – for my sanity and peace of mind; I need to step away from the inevitable negativity that contaminates my timeline. I don’t think I’d ever actually leave Twitter or Facebook, but I completely understand why Christine did.

Have you ever been tempted to stop living online?
How do you filter and flush out the negativity that you see online?
How do you deal with all the judging that happens on Twitter and Facebook? Do you censor what you say to avoid being challenged?
How important is authenticity to you? Do you expect online personas to match offline personalities?

It has been almost 2 months since I’ve posted. Somehow, I am still getting steady traffic (many thanks to Jacki at what did she say?!) and I’ve managed not to lose any Facebook fans. Humbling.

After catching up on some blog reading today, I have decided to let everyone know the main reason I have been absent from my blog. I am pregnant. I am creeping up to my third trimester at 24 weeks!! This pregnancy has kept me from blogging for a few reasons.

1. Any free time I’d have to write, I spend napping.
2. For the first 17 weeks, I was miserably sick and even the thought of sitting in front of my laptop made my stomach turn.
3. Did I mention that I’m tired?

As my belly grows and it becomes more obvious to the general public that I am pregnant, I decided that it’s only fair to bring you all into the loop.

I have heard 2011 described as the year of babies and a quick count of the women I know having babies this year (10+) suggests that it just might be true.

Stay tuned… (or don’t, ’cause I can’t promise you won’t be waiting for 2 months).

It’s a little known fact that I follow pop culture. Closely.  I keep up with what is happening in the entertainment world and with the people who inhabit it.  In fact, at one point in my academic career I considered doing research on the cult of celebrity because it fascinates me so much.

I have my opinions on the goings-ons, stories, and rumours that surround celebrities.  Rarely, do I share them – especially publicly.  It’s none of my business.  It’s about other people’s lives and I don’t generally feel it’s my place to weigh in.  Until today.  Today, I am contributing my 2 cents about none other than Kanye West.

I am a fan.

I have been a fan of Kanye West since he produced some of my favourite songs on the Brown Sugar soundtrack.  He is one of the few artists whose music I have purchased on CD and that I still listen to regularly.  He is talented and he has a message if you’re willing to listen.

When he said and did stupid things, I didn’t contribute to the Kanye-bashing.  There are people out there doing far worse things than stunting and running their mouths.  As far as I was concerned, it was irrelevant.  He was throwing around his ego.  Big deal.  It didn’t affect me at all and it didn’t change how I felt about his music.

It affected him, though.

And this morning, he lay it all bare and told the world how.  Over the course of over 70 tweets, Kanye released a stream of consciousness telling his side of the story.  His truth.  Uncensored.  Unedited.  Unfiltered by media, publicists, record labels, or managers.

The vulnerability of his tweets fascinated me and the power of his transparency struck me. It is quite possible that he has single-handedly changed the game by removing the filters. Twitter gave him the power to tell his story in his own words without being at the mercy of the editing process of media. He was able to get his words out without being interrupted or bound by anyone else’s agenda.

I think that the implications of this will be beneficial to Kanye and his forth-coming album. I applaud him. So few people, much less celebrities, are willing to be so raw and unedited – to bare themselves and publicly acknowledge their weaknesses and wrong-doings.

Was this a publicity stunt? Perhaps. But, I don’t think it matters. As I am sure Kanye well knows by now, the implication of one’s words and actions are more powerful than the intention behind them. Even if everyone else calls fraud, he has inspired me.

My writing is functionally detached. I know this. It is guarded and bound by fear of rejection. I will defend my actions and own them, but not my words. As a result, I approach deep topics and deeps issues as objectively as possible. Academically, even.

Maybe, just maybe, Kanye has inspired me to expose myself a little more – to lay myself out there and own my words as fiercely as I do my actions.  To speak my truth.

My sentiments exactly.

What do you think of Kanye’s tweet stream? Do you think it’s genuine?
How willing are you to expose yourself, unedited?
What filters do your words go through?

This past weekend, I went to BlogHer ’10. Simply put, it is a big conference for bloggers (predominantly women). In a nutshell, it was heavy on social and networking, but light on content.

BlogHer presented me with a great opportunity to meet women I have spent months connecting with online. I took full advantage of that. I went out for dinner in Times Square. I danced the night away. I met for coffee in the mornings and took a stroll through central park with a new friend. Those experiences made my trip worthwhile. Money well spent. The isolation I often feel as a stay-at-home mom disappeared as I was thrust into social event after social event. I needed that. Without a doubt, I needed that. I needed to be a woman for a few days without putting anyone else’s needs before mine. It was refreshing to only have to worry about myself.

That BlogHer was in New York City was bittersweet. I love the city, so during the conference I was constantly feeling the pull to wander off, explore, and take it all in. When I started to feel like I was really missing out, I took a few hours to myself and walked to central park where I sat enjoying a cool breeze and good book. I didn’t read as much as I watched people walk by – mostly tourists by my estimation. Someone asked me for directions and another struck up a conversation about the book I was reading. It finally made me feel connected to the city and the people in it. I took one photo while I was there and it was with my phone. One photo that captures the peace in the chaos. A beautiful park amid the city that never sleeps.

As much fun as I had at the conference, I can’t help but feel that BlogHer didn’t reach it’s potential in terms of information sharing and knowledge transfer. I know a lot of people go to BlogHer for the social and networking aspects, which is great. However, social media and blogging conferences can be about more than social networking. There is information to be shared beyond storytelling.

I have been to dozens of conferences and have had a hand in planning many. From that perspective, attending BlogHer was frustrating. It frustrated me that the conference did not not capitalize on the opportunity to share practical, applicable information.

The breakout sessions that I went to were disappointing. Though inspiring, they didn’t give me much to sink my teeth into. They were all panel discussions, which are great because they offer multiple perspectives and give voice to the audience. However, in order for the success of case studies to be transferable, they need to be supported by theory – steps that attendees can take away to help them achieve similar results. I came away with inspiration, but no tools to give it life.

I am a facilitator. I have been developing and delivering training programs for years and one topic that I trained was advocacy strategies. For me to go to a Change Agents session at a conference that offers no strategies or tools to replicate success was beyond frustrating. There was no practical information about:

• offline advocacy efforts complementing online

• calls to action

• influencing public policy

If the information is not applicable, what is the point? Where is the learning?

As much as I love my fellow bloggers, not everyone who writes well, speaks well. I would have liked to have seen professional speakers complement the stories and case studies presented by bloggers. I would have liked to have seen a variety of learning styles addressed and I would have liked to have seen real learning opportunities and meaningful exchange of information.

In October of this year, I will be attending Blissdom Canada and I hope that it is more well-rounded than BlogHer was. I hope that there is as much emphasis on applicable learning as on storytelling. There is no reason that social media conferences can’t match the caliber of professional conferences – I have seen it with My Charity Connects, so I know it is possible. There is a wealth of information to be shared and people who want to learn it.

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* I refrained from linking to all my blogging friends for fear that I’d unintentionally leave someone out. They know who they are and they can be found in the blogroll of my sidebar.

For months, I have been thinking about how reciprocity fits into online communities and living online.  Recently, I’ve had a number of discussions on blogs and Twitter about what really boils down to the pressure of reciprocity.  (Are my anthropology roots showing?)

In the context of anthropology, there are a few types of reciprocity.  In my opinion, the one that best suits online interactions is called balanced reciprocity.

Balanced or Symmetrical reciprocity occurs when someone gives to someone else, expecting a fair and tangible return at some undefined future date. It is a very informal system of exchange. The expectation that the giver will be repaid is based on trust and social consequences

(I got this definition from wikipedia, but it is near identical to everything I found in my old textbooks – and easier to cite).

What is interesting about that definition is that it can apply to blog comments, Facebook friends requests, Twitter mentions, blogrolls, Twitter follows, Twitter listings, blog subscriptions, even emails.  The interesting thing about it is that oftentimes, specifically with Twitter, the giver doesn’t know the receiver and may have never even interacted with that person.

Expectation is a powerful thing and the burden of obligation weighs heavy on our fingertips.  It is a lot of pressure to keep up – to reciprocate.

I don’t believe that it is necessary to reciprocate everything.  We need to cut ourselves some slack, be selective, and allow ourselves to have a balanced experience instead of getting caught up in balancing our experiences with others’.

It is important to me to read blog posts that speak to me and comment when I have something to say.  I don’t like to leave empty comments any more than I like to get them. That said, I do feel the need to support blogs I read and bloggers I like.

As for Twitter, there is no need to only follow people who follow back.  In fact, that is a good way to miss out on a lot of great information, inspiration, and perspective.   If I find value in someone’s tweets who doesn’t find value in mine, that is ok; everyone is on Twitter for different reasons.  It would be inefficient to follow everyone who follows me and I think it is unreasonable to expect everyone I follow to follow me back.

Reciprocity is vital to online communities and networking.  Undoubtedly.  However, reciprocating everything is inefficient, time-consuming, and unnecessary.  Attaching too many strings to our online experience diminishes it.  Online, our most valuable gifts are words; they are the currency.  Let’s give and receive them freely. 

Earlier today, I hosted a pity-party for myself.  I do that.  The theme for today’s was my blog, specifically my perceived expectations of my readers and my current lack of inspiration.

I felt bound by my blog, bound to it, and bound by my own expectations of what the content should be, what I should write about, and what should inspire me.  I am not good with shoulds.  So, there I was – feeling restricted by my own perceptions, assumptions, and expectations.

As I was belly-aching on Twitter, I remembered a message I received from a friend a few months ago.  That switched my perspective immediately; I write this blog because I want to share my inspirations and, hopefully, inspire others. You.  My readers.

With the blessing of my friend, here is an excerpt of the message:

I’m writing you to let you know that I value you, that I think you are amazing, that you cannot know what an asset you are to this world.

I was reading your letters to Q and hopefully that what I learnt from you, I can take it back to my home and hopefully restore peace and love. Thank you Sarah for a better understanding of this world.

Beautiful.  Touching.  Humbling.

Perspective.  Always perspective.  Thank you, my beautiful friend (I know you are reading this) for giving me perspective and inspiring me to appreciate what I am doing and what I have done, instead of focusing on what I am not doing or what I should be doing.

Thank you all.

I am currently sitting outside with the breeze blowing my hair in my face, writing with a pen on paper.

As my son digs for ladybugs and throws his plastic golf club in the budding lilac, I feel peace.  I chat with him as I write;  this pad posing nowhere near the barrier my laptop does.

There is a simplicity in this arrangement – a simplicity that I crave while being pulled to live online.

My paper is now stained with bubbles that have met their demise to the sounds of my son screeching in delight.  Simple things -  pen to paper, delight, bubbles, ladybugs…

It is in these moments that I strike a balance – when my online complements my offline without interfering with it.

Back to basics. Pen in hand.

I love living online; I’ve been doing it for 15 years – interacting with people, building relationships, and meeting wonderful people who have enriched my life.  People who have become dear friends.  But, living online has to fit into my life – the life that doesn’t need a computer to exist, or a wireless connection to thrive.

As I watch my son leave a plate of dirty cucumber slices out for the squirrels, I realize how much I take for granted in this world I know – a simplicity and an appreciation for what is right before my eyes and in reach of not only my fingertips, but my arms.

The following is a entry for the Mabel’s Labels BlogHer’10 Contest.  Enjoy (and fret not – the internet is not going to be wiped out – at least, not to my knowledge).

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I’ve just been informed that the world is ending electrical storms are going to wipe out the Internet.

In light of this imminent catastrophic event, I want to leave you with some insight into what makes me get up in the morning.

It’s you.  Yes, you.

I am passionate about people, human nature, social constructs, human interactions… everything you do fascinates me!   You leave me wondering what your motives are, what your expectations are, and what makes you tick.

I like to sit warming my legs with my laptop and discuss with you what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, and what influences your daily lives.  I love to share with you the same about me.  It’s been a long, strange, entertaining 15 years of interacting with you through my fingertips.  For those of you whom I have met in person, count yourselves lucky, I feel honoured to have had the opportunity.  I hope that we can stay in touch.

For the rest of you, I would like you to know that you have enriched my life and increased its quality beyond measure.  I guess now I will see you in the airport while I wait at the gate.  Or, I will see you at the coffee shop while we both drink coffee wondering if we should say something.  I will see you at red lights, or look at you as you pass me on the highway.  I will see you on the sidewalk and hopefully we can exchange a smile.  I might even see you at the library as we both try to figure out how to get instant information without a wireless connection to the world.

My passion won’t die with the internet; I will continue to wonder what makes you tick and you will continue to fascinate me.