Response to Kristin Arola’s “It’s My Revolution: Learning to See the
Mixedblood.”
I chose to respond to the Arola piece this week because it allowed
me to situate myself in a research interest I’ve had for over a year. The close
reading of the three mixedblood individuals’ MySpace profiles was certainly an
update from the readings of primarily textual representations of individuals in
Nakamura’s Cybertypes: Race, Ethnicity,
and Identity on the internet.
Still, there were many issues that Arola raised that were similar to
Nakamura. When Arola writes that “being seen as mixed-blood Indian…is often an
even messier, if not impossible endeavor” (214), she is echoing Nakamura.
Nakamura writes “Nowhere is there a box for ‘hyphenated’ identities” (121) and
earlier, that “This limits the ways that race can happen in cyberspace and also
denies the possibility of a mestizo
consciousness on these sites” (102). Occupying multiple ethnicities is messy
because it can not only limit, but eliminate identity. I’m curious as to in
what capacity digital platform participation, invisibly and quietly, works to
erase parts of our identity. In what ways are we conscious of this day to day?
In what ways do we actively challenge this like Erica in the Arola piece?
I want to keep making connections between the Arola and the
Nakamura, but I want to state my research interest now so that whoever happens
to read this can understand the things that I may be indirectly implying as I
make the connections. Quite a while back I began to think about how sexuality
is represented on Facebook. Queer culture is extremely concerned with gesture
and visual representation. Further, heteronormativity is extremely concerned
with gesture and visual representation. I want to talk to LGBT undergraduate or
graduate students about how they represent their sexuality graphically and
textually on Facebook. I want to know whether they see that space as a “safe
space” or a “closet.” This is important work because as we integrate technology
and social media more and more into our classrooms, it is important to see how
students, population to population, view those spaces. Engaging as many
perspectives as possible is necessary to understand the implication of
integrating such spaces into the classroom space.
Arola writes that on MySpace, “[t]here is no option for checking
more than one race” (220). I wonder if the identity tourism that Nakamura
speaks of is something that we may actually have to take part in for ourselves
in order to occupy “more than one race.” Further, I wonder if some spaces are
safer for mixedbloods than others. I wonder if some spaces are safer for one
blood, other spaces for other blood. I wonder if we may take part in multiple
social media spaces because that is the only means of representing ourselves as
mixedblood, as occupying those spaces in-between. Perhaps we are more one part
of ourselves than another in particular spaces because for one part of us that
space is “safe” and for the other it is the silent “closet.”
As I mentioned earlier, Nakamura focuses a lot on chatroom spaces,
touring identity through largely text generating platforms. Arola updates our
lens on race and cyberspace by looking at a platform that uses graphics. “I
assert that the materiality inferred in concepts of regalia are important for
understanding online representations of self, representations encouraged by the
various social-networking platforms with which we engage” (214). Arola focuses
a lot on the visual in examining the three individuals on MySpace. She writes that
“to look at mixedbloods online expressions through regalia is to examine the
material complexities of identifying as mixedblood both on and offline” (214)
and further, that “[r]egalia firmly positions one within a shifting continuum
of embodied identities. The act of identification continues to change, just as
some powwow dancers change their regalia…” (219). Arola proposes that identity
in online space can be seen as regalia. “To understand online identity as
regalia is to understand it as an embodied visible act that evolves and
changes, and that represents one’s history, one’s community, and one’s self
within that particular moment” (218). I liked how Arola discusses the changes
that she saw in Jamie’s MySpace as well as how Erica has negotiatied
representing herself as mixedblood as she generates graphic and textual
representations.
When Nakamura discusses the email about the Japanese-American, she
discusses how it actually proves the utopic claim that the internet would
detach race from the body. Because platforms such as MySpace, Instagram,
Facebook, and increasingly, Twitter are so reliant on the generation of graphic
representation, it becomes more impossible to detach the body. The body becomes
race. “Body-related identities such as race and gender are not yet as fluid and
thus disposable as much cybertheory and commercial discourse would like to see
them” (Nakamura 10). Nakamura’s claim that we need to “scrutinize the
deployment of race online as well as the ways that Internet use can figure as a
racialized practice” (30) is especially valid beyond creating an avatar and
occupying chatrooms. Let’s consider the everyday social media spaces. What kinds
of regalia, what kinds of visual acts on these spaces are being performed and
evolving for not only marginalized mixedbloods, races, and genders, but for
queer minorities as well?