Friday, February 20, 2015

A Manifesto For Cyborgs: Science, Technology, and Socialist Feminism in the 1980s

Prior to this week's lesson and this week's reading I have never heard of the term "cyborg". For me, this was all new information. I have seen on TV, and have personally met individuals with prosthetic legs and even arms, but I never considered them a cyborg (but then why would I? This is a new term for me). By definition of this reading, I suppose that people with prosthetic body parts would be considered a cyborg because one could not function fully without the other. However, it is still odd or rather uncomfortable for me to refer to another human as a cyborg or view them as having a partly cyborg identity. If I analyze this reading solely focusing on dualism or binaries I can understand the concept of a cyborg a little bit more when removed from a science fiction context. Frankly this reading was very hard for me to unpack. I am not really sure what to think about the authors ideas, and I feel like I am all over the place! One thing I will note that I thought was interesting is that Haraway references Chela Sandoval, and says that Sandoval "emphasizes the lack of essential criterion for identifying who is a woman of color" (p.14). Haraway provides this example to illustrate Sandoval's perspective "a Chicana or U.S. black woman has not been able to speak as a woman or as a black person or as a Chicano. Thus, she was at the bottom of a cascade of negative identities left out of even the privilege oppressed authorial categories called "women and blacks," who claimed to make important revolutions" (14). I partly agree with this. Yes, I agree that U.S. black women and Chicanas often times have muted voices. What I do not agree with is that there is a lack of essential criterion for identify who is a woman of color. If anything this is only valid for women who are to fair skinned and thus get mistaken as for as white women. I think largely the criterion is based on complexion, then perhaps features such as eyes and nose,etc hair, and even language. I grew up with the understanding that everyone was a person of color with the exception of white people. Now this could be completely inaccurate, but this is a belief that many people have grown up believing, and this belief has a criterion supporting it.

Friday, February 13, 2015

It's my revolution learning to see the mixed blood

Many of the remarks made by the author Arola can also be applied to other races/ethnicities, but with less legality applied to it. For example, to be considered Latino, Asian, or Black, I do believe that non-members and members of a particular racial group have to perceive you as belonging. Characteristics include language/accent, features, skin tone, hair etc. It is rather interesting to say the least how much power other people have to decide which racial category another person belongs in. The way you look and sound matters when it comes to classifying people into racial categories within the US.

Arola talks about the 1/4 drop of Indian blood (although rules vary by individual tribes) generally makes you an Indian. This made me think about the one drop rule. The one drop rule was a way to classify person of African descent. One drop of black blood is typically suppose to make any person in the United States a black person. However, the one drop rule (in my opinion) has been proven to be an invalid system in determining who is and who is not black in the US. The reason is because of what Arola touches on in her paper. People, non members and members, have to identify you as belonging. When I was in high school, there was a girl with white pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Many people thought she was white. She at least looked it to say the least. However, this girl's father was half black (which he looked). Although she was less than a quarter black, because she had noticeably black cousins, a grandparent, and other relatives that she grew up around, it was always important for this girl (she's a woman now) to tell people that she indeed was black. According to the one drop rule, she was right. Yet, people outside of her family normally did not accept her as black because she looked white. She would tell people she was mixed and no one would believe her. Even after some had met her father, they still would not allow the girl to call herself black. Although the Indian situation is different, there is still this idea that blood percentage and looks combined determine whether or not you can call yourself Indian or Black.

Arola also brings up the idea that our real identities are linked to our online identities. To some extent this is very true. However, this is only true if someone is allowed to be their real selves online. For me example, my online identity is very much linked to my real identity. Although, I don't share very sensitive, personal, and delicate information about myself via online I am still authentic self with my Facebook friends, twitter followers, and Instagram followers. But this is because I was given the space to do it. Others, aren't able to share their real identities online, and for some it is the other way around. Although Arola believes that online identity is not a custom it can be. Some people use the virtual world to escape reality. In situations like that, when people feel like they are their truest self online, then wouldn't that mean they are wearing a custom daily in their real lives? In a sense, people are content moderators of their own lives. We have to pick and choose what we share, but we have to feel safe sharing the information. It is very much possible for our non virtual lives to be distinctly different from our online lives. This all depends on the platform or outlet we are given by others.

Friday, February 6, 2015

The Laborers Who Keep Dick Pics and Beheadings Out of Your Facebook Feed Wired

For this week I read The Laborers Who Keep Dick Pics and Beheadings Out of Your Facebook Feed WIRED. This article was about contracted content moderators, and what their job entails. While I was reading this article, all I could say was "WOW". I immediately begin to think about the numerous of inappropriate content that I see on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter daily. If people abroad and within the United States are constantly monitoring what types of content people see everday, then I couldn't even phantom the amount of inappropriate content that I would see on my social media sites without their patrolling. As it is now, I think I am already overly exposed to inappropriate content as it is, so again I couldn't even imagine.
Unpacking: The author of this article brings up the concept of the Grandma Problem which is the reason why companies hire content moderators. The Grandma Problem seeks to essentially protect our grandparents from being exposed from inappropriate content. According to the author, “Now that grandparents routinely use services like Facebook to connect with their kids and grandkids, they are potentially exposed to the Internet’s panoply of jerks, racists, creeps, criminals, and bullies. They won’t continue to log on if they find their family photos sandwiched between a gruesome Russian highway accident and a hardcore porn video. Social media’s growth into a multibillion-dollar industry, and its lasting mainstream appeal, has depended in larger part on companies’ ability to police the borders of their user-generated content—to ensure that Grandma never has to see images like the one Baybayan just nuked.” Now this paragraph seemingly sounds innocent. It can be easily read without much thought being put into. “Oh look we want to protect our grandparents from indecent material online, how sweet!” However, it is important to note whose grandparents were deemed as needing the protection. Although race/ethnicity/nationality may not seem like a factor in this paragraph it actually is. This becomes even more apparent when you continue to read the article. Filipinos and Filipinas who do the same content moderation job in the Philippines as Americans do in the United States are only paid $314-$500 a month. Yet, the American moderators are paid about $20 an hour, and sometimes even more. Also, the American moderators see this job as a last resort, and have a few perks that come with the job (i.e. being able to watch what they want on the other screen, and counseling options although they don’t know how to access them). The Filipino and Filipina workers do not have any of these perks, and I would bet all my money that they work much longer hours than the American workers do. Not to mention, this job is in high demand in the Philippines which means they are more susceptible to abuse in this job field because they are easily replaceable. So, whose grandma are we really protecting then? If Filipino and Filipina workers aren’t being protected in the workforce then I think it may be very reasonable to conclude that companies aren’t looking to protect their grandparents. Also, it may be reasonable to conclude that their grandparents are also some of the content moderators, whereas in the United States the content moderators are typically recent college graduates.

The Grandma Problem is about protecting white Grandparents. In fact, most laws and policies in the United States were created to protect the white population. This may sound like a stretch but it really is not. In my last post, I brought up how blacks and Latinos children and adolescents are the biggest consumers of social media. In regards to social networks, grandparents would actually be only a minority of users. Most grandparents are not using social media sites to keep in contact with their family members, and yet the reason why companies feel the need to hire content moderators in the first place is to protect those who do not have a huge presence on social media. Why not protect our biggest users? That's because the biggest users are low-income kids of color. In this case, the minority has a much bigger voice and is of more concern because money plus whiteness talks and matters in this world.