7. Class, Race, and Online Participation
On a warm September afternoon in 1995, I'm interviewing Perry in the suburban tract house he shares with three others in southern California. His roommates, two men and one woman, all work for computer-related businesses. One of them, devnull, is also a BlueSky participant. In his early twenties, Perry is a white graduate student in computer science. His round face reveals a friendly, easy-going demeanor. In a voice so quiet I have trouble picking it up off the tape later, he answers my questions about his family and his introduction to computers and later to mudding.
After the interview, Perry takes me on a tour of the house. As in most mudders' houses I encountered during my research, decor here is minimal and haphazard, giving the ambience of a college student house, although most of the inhabitants now work outside academia. The furniture appears to be mainly castoffs or hand-me-downs, and there are very few wall decorations. The refrigerator contains almost no food. Most of Perry's roommates make good middle-class salaries as computer professionals, but the only visible signs of that income are in the form of electronics. The complex stereo system is sleek and up-to-date. Next to the television are shelves and shelves of videos, mostly of Japanese animation.
The house also contains seven computers of assorted ages and capabilities. As in many business settings, these computers (owned by the various house members) connect to each other, forming an in-house network. They also connect to the Internet through an outside phone line (and Internet service provider). Perry demonstrates the network for me, explaining which functions the different computers perform and pointing out where the in-house muds reside. To maintain the Internet connection and the availability of the in-house muds, several of these computers are always on, providing a constant background hum that some would find
Perry explains that he and his roommates use one of the in-house muds to contact each other during the day, especially to coordinate dinner plans. Often, he will be logged on to several muds all day without using them much. It's a way of being present to various groups of people—a more convenient, and in some ways more familiar, way of communicating than the telephone. In an earlier conversation I had with him on BlueSky, Perry explained the different muds he uses:
Perry whispers “Well, I believe in one mud per function, and so we have a mud in our house for talking about who's going to make dinner and who's hogging the slip line, I have one in my lab for talking about what we're doing, there's a couple muds I sit on and idle because one or two other people occasionally page me …”
Copperhead whispers “what, are you serious? a mud for dinner discussion?”
Perry whispers “sure, small muds take almost no resources, we've got 3 or 4 in the house”
Copperhead whispers “that's funny; muds as a household convenience”
A month later, I'm outside a national government lab, getting my visitor's badge from the guard. At the visitor center reception desk, I stumble over the unfamiliar name of a person I regularly converse with. I narrowly avoid giving the receptionist his mud name, Obtuse. I finally make it through the large lab campus to the correct building and locate Obtuse's office. Lanky and pale, Obtuse shakes my hand and takes me immediately into the virtual reality lab where he spends most of his workday. We've hardly said anything to each other when he startles me by putting a visual display headset on my head. Up until now, I've avoided virtual reality (VR) demonstrations, disliking the look of the graphics and fearing the oftreported disorienting and nauseating effects. I'm a bit put off by the technophilic assumption in Obtuse's action, but I gamely wait in the VR chamber's default 3-D starfield for the demonstration to begin. It proves less physically disorienting than I expected, and I find the exhibition of potential scientific applications for VR mildly interesting. Obtuse's responsibilities are peripheral to the actual design and operation of the VR system, but he exhibits considerable pride in his role as part of the team on this project.
Although I'm in a work environment, not a house, the rest of the lab that Obtuse shows me resembles what I saw on Perry's tour. The buildings, like Perry's suburban tract home, are architecturally uninteresting. Decor
If I want to ask somebody a question and I don't want to try to pick up the phone and call, it's easier than sending e-mail when you know he gets two hundred pieces of e-mail a day. I'll just poke him and say, “Bob, what happened to this executable?” And later in the day or the next day, he'll get back to me, and he'll quote it, and he'll say, “This is what happened to it,” and I may not be on, so that conversation can go on in a time-shifted way.
Like Perry, Obtuse tends to have several mud windows open at once, with most of those sitting idle. These open communication channels signal a willingness to talk but can also be easily ignored if other things become more pressing.
Both Perry and Obtuse are computer programmers and comfortably use computer technology at home and at work. The spareness of their home and work environments relates to the predominance of men in computer-related occupations and the resultant emphasis on instrumental, technology-related activities. But although materialistic display is anathema to the aesthetic of both these mudders' lives, they are by no means nonconsumers or opposed to consumer culture. As Pred points out, consumption occurs “through situated practice” of daily life and “cannot be severed from the power relations associated with the practice of everyday life.” Such power relations “permeate nonconsumption as well as everyday consumption” (1996: 13). While, by “nonconsumption,” Pred meant the “inability to purchase” desired goods due to class and other power relations, his insight applies equally to practices of consumption that studiously seek to avoid the appearance of consumption.
Perry, his (mostly male) house mates, and many of the other participants on BlueSky avoid consumption practices associated with femininity, such as following fashion in their choice of clothing or purchasing items to beautify the home. These choices connect also to their relative youth and, for some, their single status. Their home and work environments nevertheless reflect their middle-class status and their ability to purchase those consumer items that support their particular male, young, white, technologically savvy identities. The ability of Perry's household to eat out or order take-out frequently (indicated by the empty refrigerator), the
Most BlueSky participants share similar middle-class backgrounds. Many work and live in environments similar to those of Perry and Obtuse. Their online interactions reflect this background, as the culture of BlueSky, the cultures of other muds, and the cultures common on the Internet do. BlueSky functions for BlueSky participants as another arena within which they negotiate the intertwined facets of identity and consumption.
Class background may be the single most important factor influencing online participation. Over 60 percent of Internet participants (63 to 75 percent, depending upon the data source) hold some form of professional, technical, managerial, or other white-collar job, with reported incomes consistently clustering in the thirty thousand to ninety thousand dollar range (approximately 60 percent of participants fall within this range).[1] Yet, in their depictions of interactive forums such as muds, online researchers rarely discuss class, usually focusing instead on gender. This tendency reflects online culture itself, where gender and sexuality are much more frequent topics of discussion than class or race identity. Turkle does, however, discuss the possibility that muds can provide participants with “the sense of a middle-class peer group” (1995: 240). She connects the appeal of muds with the economic difficulties experienced by many young people from middle-class families whose job prospects have not met their expectations. Although Turkle does not specifically examine this issue, the fact that these mud participants can feel more “themselves” online than in their downwardly mobile “day jobs” suggests the extent to which muds, and online culture in general, are shaped by middle-class cultural understandings. Online social spaces would not function as an escape from perceived or feared lower-class existence offline without somehow conveying a sense of middle-class culture to participants.
For the most part, BlueSky participants do not fit the portrait of downward mobility that Turkle's interviewees present. Most have jobs that appear to give them economic status similar to that of their parents. I gathered information about their own and parents' occupations and education from thirty-eight participants. Of those, twenty-four have levels of education and occupational status similar to their parents (allowing for their relative youth). Two of the highest BlueSky income earners, for instance, have fathers who hold high-level corporate positions (vice president and CEO), and both of these participants have jobs that include some
Nine participants have improved their economic status, including three participants from working-class families who entered the middle class primarily through their educational attainments and/or computer skills. Only five appear to have fallen from their parents' class status. Three of those work in computer-related industries and appear to be gradually improving their status. One has recently obtained a better-paying job, in part through the efforts of a fellow BlueSky participant. Thus only two of these thirtyeight participants appear to be caught in marginal and uncertain economic situations, working odd jobs and barely getting by.
Further reflecting the relative affluence of the group, several participants have found themselves able to buy homes before reaching the age of thirty, a goal few can attain, particularly in competitive real estate markets such as California. During the main period of my research, few BlueSky participants owned their own homes, but within a short period recently, several have started buying houses. As of 1998, at least thirteen regulars owned homes, including some people living in areas with very high median home prices.
The BlueSky group thus represents, if anything, an upwardly mobile group, although many are following career paths somewhat different from those of their parents. For instance, several participants with parents who are professors completed bachelor's degrees only after several years in and out of college. Their work as system administrators or programmers gives them slightly less prestige than their parents but at least as much income. BlueSky participants' computer skills enabled them to negotiate the potentially treacherous job market of the 1990s and maintain an income level similar to that of their parents.
CLASS BACKGROUNDS AND COMPUTER USE
The most obvious class issue regarding online access concerns the cost of equipment. Many online participants, speaking as people familiar with the range of computer equipment available, point out the extremely low cost of minimal computer systems and Internet accounts as evidence that the Internet does not limit participation by class. However, this exaggerates the accessibility of computer equipment. It fails to take into consideration cultural aspects that affect both perceptions of online interactions and their accessibility, not to mention perceptions of computers and computer use
Most BlueSky participants began using computers fairly early in life. Although they report levels of computer use that were higher than those of most of their childhood peers, they found their access to technology unremarkable and often took computer use for granted. Some of this ease stemmed from the fact that others close to them also used computers.
Of the thirty-two people I interviewed, over half were exposed to computers by a family member. Some were given computers directly, some had fathers who tinkered with computers, others learned about computers from cousins or other family members they visited. Only ten of my interviewees were initially exposed to computers in school, usually between the fifth and seventh grades. They often described the school's equipment as minimal. Few were given formal training in school, but they tinkered with the computers on their own, in some cases teaching themselves rudimentary programming. Two of my interviewees learned about computers from their friends and then wanted them also. Three didn't use computers at all until college.
The computer interest of many of my interviewees derived in part from their parents' use of computers. The experiences of this group of interviewees point out the importance of family practice to computer literacy. Haddon (1992) found that family belief in the importance of computer use for children's futures significantly increases the likelihood of further use. Livingstone (1992) and Wheelock (1992) also found that gender dynamics within the home affect which children are more likely to use computers. In most cases, boys were more likely to be the heaviest computer users in the household (even in families in which the computer had been purchased mainly for a parent's use), and boys used the computer for a wider range of activities. It is interesting to note in this regard that several of BlueSky's most active female participants have no siblings.
A relative newcomer to BlueSky, BlueJean is eighteen years old and thus one of its youngest participants. Her savvy, confident style of speech, and an air of greater emotional sophistication than is typical for her age
When did you start using computers? How did you get into that?
BLUEJEAN:
I've been raised with computers, essentially. My father brought home the first computer when I was five. It was like a Karpro, ancient, dinosaur.
LORI:
That's surprising to me, because he's not in the computer industry.
BLUEJEAN:
It's always been a hobby of his. The X rays [he works with] are controlled by digital imaging, so they were computerized. The first computer that we got was from his company for his use. So he brought it home and sort of got me oriented on it, and I would type up my little journals on the computer, and you know … starting in kindergarten. So computers have always been a part of my life.
Seven of my interviewees mentioned that, like BlueJean's, their fathers worked with computers and/or had a hobby of tinkering with computers at home.
RaveMage specifically tied his class background to his childhood use of computers:
LORI:So how did you start getting into computers and using computers and stuff?
RAVEMAGE:
Actually one of the good things about having two doctor parents around, it was possible to … because people … I've always been amused when people tell me, “Jeez, I've only been using these for a couple of years.” I've had ‘em since, uh … I had one of the original Radio Shack Trash-80 Model ones. I've had’ em ever since then.
Several BlueSky participants whose parents had much less disposable income than RaveMage's family were nevertheless able to obtain computers at an early age. McKenzie, for instance, indicated that he saved up his own money from odd jobs to purchase a computer in the seventh grade. However, as RaveMage indicates, having “two doctor parents” certainly makes obtaining computers easier.
Even among families who were not specifically interested in computers, their educational backgrounds most likely predisposed them to accept computers as a useful home schooling tool or as a reasonable toy for a preadolescent. Of the thirty-eight participants for whom I obtained parents' educational data, thirty-three had at least one parent who had attended college, and twenty had one parent with graduate school education. While fathers' education levels were almost always higher than mothers', seven mothers had at least some graduate school experience. A frequent pattern among mothers was to stop higher education for child raising, then return to school as children got older or left home. Thus, several people had mothers who had recently completed a Ph.D. or other degree.
The number of interviewees who come from families in which both parents have graduate degrees (six of thirty-eight respondents) suggests that computer use may be fostered by a home environment in which family members take for granted the value of higher education and expect that all family members will obtain at least an undergraduate degree and enter a profession or a technical career. This was the case for most regulars on BlueSky. BlueSky patterns also suggest that the support for computer use may be particularly strong when parental professions involve some use of computers.
PERFORMING MIDDLE-CLASS IDENTITIES
That participants experience online interactions as culturally middle-class reflects in part the fact that they are middle-class. In order for these participants to create a middle-class cultural online space, however, they must enact middle-class identities there. While we can readily identify what it means to perform a “female” or “male” identity, most mudders (like other people within U.S. culture) would not consider themselves to be perform ing middle-classness. Yet as West and Fenstermaker (1995) point out, class meanings and identities are created and expressed through interaction. (See also Collins et al. 1995 for a critique of this article.) Given that muds are limited to textual communication, participants must convey their class status through verbal exchange of information about their lives and backgrounds, along with patterns of speech, and so forth.
Mudders rarely discuss class directly. In this they differ little from people in the United States in general. What does get said reveals important ways in which people view, or try not to view, class distinctions. Sherry Ortner points out that in the United States, we have an “impoverished language for thinking and speaking about” class (1993: 410–11). In her
Most BlueSky participants learned about mudding through friends at college, graduate or professional school, or from newsgroups or e-mail lists they accessed at that time. Since they all went to college, it is not surprising that most of their parents did as well. In this group of sophisticated, longterm computer users, higher education forms an important part of their background and experience. BlueSky participants greatly value education along with the knowledge and skills derived from it. Level of education provides one aspect of status on BlueSky, and the types of knowledge and skills acquired in college contribute to the conversations held there.
The prominence of college education as a marker of status and a valued facet of identity contributes to the middle-class ambience Turkle described as appealing to her interviewees. When asked to characterize the group of people on BlueSky, many regulars mentioned the high levels of education, often with some pride. During my interview with Corwin, we discussed how participants use BlueSky as a resource for work-related questions. Corwin noted the high level of expertise among BlueSky participants and began listing educational degrees held by various people on BlueSky:
I think BlueSky has an amazing concentration of degrees. … Let's see Ph.D. holders: henri, Captain, domehead, and Ulysses. There was Tom before he stopped logging on to most muds. [He lists several other non-Ph.D. degree-holders.] It's quite a list. It was so bad that in the Nebula Cafe the bartender had a response to probably about ten people; when they walked in the room, he would immediately say, “Go work on your thesis.”
As Corwin indicates, pride in education was written into an automatic response of an object in one of the hangouts. Here is the description of that hangout, with the automaton's response to my entrance, and then to the entrance of several other participants, also working on theses.
Nebula Cafe BarThis is the bar of the fantabulous Nebula Cafe, where patrons wait for a table tobecome available. The entrance is through a firehouse-type sliding pole
― 189 ―that enters through a hole in the ceiling. On one wall is a large viewscreen; opposite the bar is a doorway.the automaton says “Copperhead, stop mudding and finish your thesis!”
zombie has arrived.
the automaton says “zombie, stop mudding and finish your thesis!”
Starfish has arrived.
the automaton says “Starfish, stop mudding and finish your thesis!”
The automaton's response makes a joke about the perceived dangers of mudding to educational pursuits but also identifies those people working on higher degrees, thereby marking their educational status.
My own reactions to comments about education during some of my interviews highlighted for me connections between class and education and the ways in which people use discussions of education to mark their class identity. Focusing on my own discomfort in some of the face-to-face interviews helped me see class issues being brought up. I wasn't expecting such discomfort over class issues, since I initially assumed my middle-class background was similar to that of most BlueSky participants. As with many regulars on BlueSky, my father is a computer programmer, and both he and my mother have college degrees. Also like most of my interviewees, I grew up in middle-class, mostly white suburbs. Yet, in many of my conversations with my interviewees, I suddenly felt “put in my place” in regard to class. Often these moments occurred during discussions of education.
Mu is a dino whose participation on BlueSky has decreased in recent years as work responsibilities in his programming career have taken more of his time. He startled me with his nonchalant statement that he had chosen to go to Harvard because he “liked Boston.” Similarly, I felt a twinge of envy when talking with Donatello, who is in his early twenties and a graduate student in biology.
LORI:Did you have jobs using computers along this time?
DONATELLO:
I've always been a student. I've never had a job thatinvolved using computers.
My jealousy stemmed from my confrontation with someone who, unlike me, was apparently able to complete his education without outside employment. Yet, as I learned later in our conversation, Donatello has in fact held several jobs, all of them in academic settings. Despite his disavowal, most of these jobs—including his current research assistantship—have
RaveMage, on the other hand, signaled both recognition of and discomfort with the class cachet evoked by going to a school like Harvard.
LORI:So where did you go to medical school?
RAVEMAGE:
Um, let's see, Riverview State University. It's in [town].
LORI:
And where were you in college before that?
RAVEMAGE:
I always hate to tell people.
LORI:
[laughing somewhat incredulously] You hate to tell people?
RAVEMAGE:
[soberly] Yes. [pause] Harvard.
LORI:
Oh; okay, I understand.
RaveMage readily informed me that his parents were both doctors and did not hesitate to name his state-funded medical school, but he almost refused to say that he'd done his undergraduate work at Harvard. Thus not only does having a college education become a class marker, but where that education was obtained and under what circumstances further differentiate members of that broad category of the “middle class” in America. The ability of people to make these kinds of fine distinctions and the importance of them to people's identity further highlights the importance of class to identity, despite our denial of significant class differences in the United States and our unwillingness to discuss class directly. My interviews also demonstrate some of the ways in which people perform class identities in ongoing social interactions. Although I have used examples from interviews in the above discussion, clearly these same kinds of conversations can occur online and become part of the performance of classed identities online.
Understandings of class also inform the meanings of occupations. When Beryl referred to her father as an executive, I found the term vague and attempted to find out what kind of work he did. Beryl seemed affronted at my suggestion that he was “just management” (my clumsy attempt to find out what kind of work he did as an “executive”), stressing that to her being an executive meant something different.
But my dad's an executive and has money. He has this beautiful place down in [a wealthy midwestern suburb]. Anyway, he's very wealthy.
LORI:
He's just management, kind of?
BERYL:
[somewhat offended] No, he has his own company. He is an executive. It basically sells insurance.
Beryl resists placing her father in either the category of “management” or that of “sales.” Her father is not an insurance salesman; rather, “it”—the company—sells insurance. She defines her father, as owner and chief executive, in terms of leadership and equates the term “executive” solely with the top level of company management. These kinds of distinctions demonstrate the fine-grained analysis that Americans are able to make concerning class, despite the supposed lack of class distinctions in U.S. society.
ONLINE TALK ABOUT CLASS
BlueSky participants bring these class backgrounds and attitudes toward class to their online interactions, but group discussions rarely refer specifically to class. Class instead emerges in discussions of other topics, including, in addition to education, income, lifestyle, and discussions of U.S. politics, especially economic issues such as welfare. Because class and race are inextricably connected, such discussions (especially those about welfare) also express racial identities and attitudes and, indeed, address issues of class through discussions obliquely referring to race (Ortner 1993; Bettie 1995; Stacey 1996).
As in Ortner's interviews, one topic on BlueSky that substitutes for class is income. The following excerpt demonstrates that income has meaning beyond the expectation that people “of course” prefer to have more money. Participants first answered a salary roll call, which itself had a particularly individualistic tone, given the antitax sentiment expressed in the phrase “paycheck leeches.”
Corwin ANNUAL SALARY BEFORE THE PAYCHECK LEECHES GET TO IT ROLL CALL
Corwin roughly $27k
McKenzie $42k
Faust $32k currently, $35k soon
Copperhead roughly $24K
Bidle $20k before he quit.
― 192 ―Barbie 29K
Corwin believes Alisa's is $30k or so
Starfish $36K
bodkin $n/a
Mender $40k
elflord $40k
Ulysses $53k
Following this, Perry called a roll call on monthly rent. Starfish next supplemented this with a roll call on “what you get for your monthly rent,” and then Corwin came up with the ratio of annual rent to salary, to come up with a rough index of buying power:
Corwin's is 1/9, for the record
elflord .198
Corwin says “aka .111111”
Jet is .15
Mender's is .245
Starfish .19
Half Life's is 2.4. sigh. go go gadget parent's money
Faust hms. potentiall .17?
McKenzie is .214
Mender says “half has the still-in-school exemption from the roll call”
Half Life phew
Faust says “current .0937, unless you count Aurora in this, in which case halve it”
fnord 0.18, for the record
Captain .33 but General makes lots
Barbie says “.161”
Obtuse is .13 in the rent/salary
Given U.S. cultural attitudes toward work and success, income represents not only purchasing power but also an index of social standing, that is, class. By factoring in considerations such as cost of living, BlueSky participants illustrate their understanding of the inadequacy of looking solely at income levels to determine class position. Although language concerning class does not appear in the discussion, class status clearly underlies the import of what is said. For instance, Mender's comment about “exempting” Half Life from the roll call because of her student status suggests the understanding that student status affects income but should not be held to disrupt continuing middle-class status.
Similarly, in these excerpts, Corwin, Captain, and Faust refer to their wives' salaries. (They use online names for their wives: Alisa, Aurora, and General.) In doing so, they move from an emphasis on personal income toward a recognition of the effect of total household income on class standing. This also reflects changing economic realities in the U.S. middle class, in which the majority of households require two incomes to maintain their middle-class status and lifestyle.
Overt recognition of class differences in the United States would bring participants to the uncomfortable recognition of power imbalances in society. Concern with power and autonomy fuel anxiety about income, but the cultural predominance of individualistic explanations for class differences channels that anxiety into worry about personal attainment. The following discussion concerning henri's salary demonstrates these connections between personal attainment (of high salaries) and class and an implicit understanding of the power implications involved in different class positions.
McKenzie says “henri answered out of order”
Mender says “henri was sparing us the horror of his salary”
henri didn't see the salary roll call
Corwin says “henri doesn't answer salary roll calls”
elflord says “We all know the answer:)”
McKenzie says “if henri doesn't answer then I end up with the highest salary”
henri says “my salary is public knowledge on here anyhow”
Corwin says “smash McKenzie utterly, henri”
henri $90k
Corwin says “henri crushes everyone anyway”
henri says “Shub makes more than I do”
The participants hold salary to be a measure of success and therefore a source of pride. However, Corwin's violent metaphor in suggesting that henri's salary information will “smash McKenzie utterly” and henri's apparent discomfort with being at the top of the salary hierarchy demonstrate that that this pride is mixed with ambivalence. The ambivalence may merely reflect envy or feelings of guilt over making less or more money than many others do. However, even when individuals do not actively recognize the power relations involved in class differences, their ambivalence about monetary “success” points to their awareness that such success does not necessarily stem from merit or hard work.
The competitive, “mine is bigger” tone of much of this conversation also points to interconnections between gender and class identities. People
As a consequence of the focus on individual attainment rather than social class structure, even people with relatively privileged class positions worry about their personal success and may perceive themselves as disadvantaged. Although he attempts to separate salary from class by explicitly emphasizing differences in cost of living in different parts of the United States, Corwin leaves the discussion still concerned that others regard him unfavorably because of his comparatively low salary.
Corwin says “keep watching these fractions, MadMonk, and consider cost of living differences”
MadMonk says “True, Oklahoma, like NM, has a pretty low cost of living.”
Corwin has the smallest resulting ratio so far. See? He makes plenty of money.
BJ makes less than McKenzie, ulysses, mender, etc but more than some others
Corwin says “TIME TO GO”
henri says “bye Cor”
Corwin says “you may all make fun of my salary behind my back now”
Faust HAHAHAHAH oh he hasn't left
Mender is too busy wallowing in self-pity over no recent raises
Corwin has disconnected.
These discussions demonstrate both the importance of class and class positioning and the difficulties Americans have in discussing class. Salaries provide a source of pride, reflecting beliefs in individual merit and effort. But they are also a source of ambivalent feelings, reflecting an underlying perception of the inability to depend on continued good fortune. Corwin in particular exhibits anxieties about income, engendered in part by the individualistic language common in the United States. Corwin's anxiety suggests that despite seeing class attainment as an internal quality, as a
However, most BlueSky participants have few fears regarding their earning potential. In discussions of the job market for people with computer programming and system administration skills, most express the belief that there are more jobs than skilled workers. California participants, in particular, frequently advise temporarily out-of-work colleagues in other states to come take advantage of the many openings for system administrators in the Silicon Valley and surrounding areas.
BLUESKY AS PROFESSIONAL NETWORK
In addition to providing a middle-class social space for participants, BlueSky also serves as a resource through which participants can consolidate or secure their middle-class status. Like professional organizations and private clubs, BlueSky provides a network of similarly situated others from whom to obtain job-related information of various types. Many participants report that they owe the job they currently have to expertise gained on BlueSky and/or continuing assistance from other BlueSky participants.
For instance, although she had some exposure to computers as a child and began mudding in college, Peg's degree in broadcasting and film production did not prepare her for a job in computing.
PEG:If I wasn't online, I wouldn't have the job I have now. Andthe stuff that I've learned—enough to get me this job—I>learned from people online.
LORI:
So you find BlueSky useful that way?
PEG:
Oh yes. In fact a lot of times I feel bad because the only timeI'm logging on is to ask somebody a question. But it's likethe consultant's dream. We have so many people who haveexperience, or if they don't they can tell you who to talk to.
Most (although not all) of the programmers on BlueSky majored in computer science in college. However, many of the BlueSky sysadmins did not major in computer science. Rather, they either parleyed their previous computer skills into part-time work while in college or learned computer skills, often through friends, while pursuing other studies in college. After graduation, computers provided the easiest-to-find or most lucrative employment available to them. As in Peg's case, finding out about and getting into the group on BlueSky require a previous level of computer competence.
Once BlueSky participants have the requisite skills for sysadmin or programming work, they sometimes also obtain jobs through their contacts on BlueSky. Some have hired other BlueSky people or have made recommendations regarding a fellow BlueSky participant to their boss. In addition, people share job openings they know about with the group.
A job listing object built in one of the main hangouts acts as a bulletin board for job opening announcements. Following is a list of the jobs posted on this object on May 5, 1995. The list includes the name of the person posting the job, the date of the posting, and a brief description. After viewing this index, participants can access longer descriptions and contact information for each job. (I have changed some identifying details in the following.)
| 0 henri | Jun 29 | Career Mosaic—many jobs on line! |
| 1 Mender | Jan 6 | OSF/1/Ultrix system administrator, MI |
| 2 Felicia | May 20 | Systems programmer opening (NJ) |
| 3 Gamer | May 20 | Omnis hacking in Pittsburgh |
| 4 Felicia | May 20 | Sysadmin opening (NJ) |
| 5 Captin | Jan 31 | Sysadmin at Mouseworks |
| 6 Beryl | Aug 17 | full-time mud admin in the bay area |
| 7 carnival | Jul 14 | Part time internet hacker |
| 8 Gravity | Jan 22 | MIS and CS jobs in DC—Interviews Easy to get! |
| 9 Shub | Jan 29 | Senior Sys Admin (NYC/NJ) |
| 10 henri | Mar 6 | Lots of Jobs, Northern CA |
| 11 Corwin | Feb 17 | UNIX Sysadmin/Netadmin |
| 12 henri | Mar 6 | Receptionist, Northern CA |
| 13 henri | Mar 6 | Programmer Analyst, Northern CA |
| 14 henri | Mar 6 | Electronic Connectivity, sr. Programmer Analyst, Northern CA |
| 15 henri | Mar 6 | Senior Programmer Analyst, Northern CA |
| 16 henri | Mar 8 | Production Assistant (Northern CA) |
| 17 henri | Apr 18 | Sr. Programmer Analyst, Northern CA |
| 18 henri | Apr 27 | Fearless C++ Hackers (Northern CA) |
| 19 henri | May 5 | Mailing List Maintenance, SF |
While the list above does include some nontechnical clerical positions (job numbers 12 and 19), most jobs require computer knowledge and experience. Job number 1, for instance, requires knowledge of specific computer operating systems and equipment; job number 18 requires proficiency in
People also solicit each other directly concerning employment. In the following conversation, Farron, who works for Shub, another BlueSky participant, attempts to recruit someone for a system administration position at his company.
Farron sidles over to elflord. “Would you be interested in pr'aps doubling your salary by a quick job change?”
elflord says “Do I have to move (back) to Bahston?”
Farron says “You just have to work in Bahston.”
Bilerific-Sid says “Shub will be your boss!”
elflord says “Double my current salary would be a substantial sum, but not enough to uproot me at this time”
Farron nods at elflord. “Alas.”
Dave idly asks Farron if he needs a decently good sendmail hacker.
elflord says “Try again in a year, when Carla is through with sch00l”
Corwin says “Don't look at me, Farron. You'd have to double mine and Alisa's together, for one thing.”
Farron grins at Corwin. “That could be arranged.”
Corwin says “That may be more than you think. What were you intending to offer?”
Farron notes that senior unix sysadmins make between 60 and 90k, senior DOS/win people probably between 50 and 75k, depending.
Jet says “I believe the cost of living of Boston is about 2x that of WY”
Corwin says “Which is why doubling would be the minimum”
Dave says “How do they define ‘senior’ in this context?”
Farron says “Well, currently I'm a senior sysadmin, and I've been doing this professionally for, what 3 years?”
Dave only has somewhere between four and six years of sysadmin experience, depending on how you define it. Farron says “Which gives you more than anyone else except possibly Shub, in our dept at least.”
Dave says “So do you need a sendmail guy, Farron?”
Farron says “What's more, you're competent.”
Farron says “What we need: Competent people. Doing anything.”
Dave says “Ah. Okay.”
― 198 ―Dave makes a little mental note.
Obtuse sighs. “Do they need people in, say, Seattle?”
In these kinds of conversations, BlueSky resembles a professional club or association, through which members can network and make professional contacts. Like many such clubs, it allows its members to augment whatever local job resources they have, giving them countrywide connections and opportunities. Farron attempts to interest elflord, Corwin, and Dave—who live in Utah, Wyoming, and New York, respectively—in employment in Boston.
The advantages of technical connections formed on BlueSky can also last beyond active participation in the group. Atticus, although still a mudder, left the BlueSky group many years ago over various personal differences. He got his current job through contact with another ex-BlueSky mudder. “I was actually doing tape transcription at [a state university] part-time when Bernie gave me a call and said, ‘Hey, we need tech support people over at [a large internet service provider] right now; can you start working next Sunday?’” Atticus went on to get jobs at that company for various other people he knew from muds, most of whom did not live in the state but moved to take the jobs. This both provided employment for people he knew and expanded his own social circle in the state.
The connections between BlueSky participation and participant job status follow a somewhat circular logic. Not only does participation help people get computer-related jobs, but these are in fact the types of jobs that allow them to continue their participation on BlueSky. This relates partly to the computer-oriented culture on BlueSky but also to some basic requirements for participation in online groups.
VIRTUALLY WHITE: RACE ONLINE
Many BlueSky participants acknowledge that BlueSky can be characterized as a male space or is at least male dominated. However, despite the fact that the class and race demographics of BlueSky are even more uniform than gender, many were perplexed when I tried to talk with them about ways in which BlueSky might also be characterized as a “white” space. Their unwillingness to think of BlueSky's culture in this way reflects the general taboo in U.S. culture against speaking of race as well as the tendency to view “white” culture as generic, with no racial content (Frankenburg 1993; Pfeil 1995).
The absence in text-based online interaction of physical cues associated
Most BlueSky participants live in the United States, where a discourse of “color blindness” predominates, making direct references to race more or less taboo (Frankenberg 1993: 14). Further, over 90 percent of BlueSky participants are white. As members of this racially “unmarked” category, very few think of their identities in racial terms. White BlueSky participants think of themselves not in terms of race—fraught as that concept is with issues of dominance, oppression, and violence—but in terms of ethnicity. Like many in the United States, they know their family background and history and can identify the (usually mixed) ethnicities from which family members originated. Whereas thinking about race requires people to think in terms of groups, ethnicity allows them to focus on unique individual heritages.
For instance, in the following conversation, several white BlueSky participants discuss their ethnic backgrounds. This conversation began as a discussion of immigration policies, which were in the news at the time. The topic of immigration led participants to reflect on their own families' arrivals to the United States.
elflord has one parent whose ancestors have been on this continent for nigh on 400 years, and another who is an immigrant. Provides an interesting perspective.
Farron nods @ elflord. “Same here.”
Farron's grandfather immigrated, but he had relatives on both sides of the Civil War, back into the 1600s.
Ulysses' grandparents were all born here, and he has pre-revolutionary ancestors
Bilerific-Sid's father is an immigrant and his mother's folks are immigrants.
Pyramid is like unto Ulysses ancestorally
Bilerific-Sid is surrounded by honkies.
Ulysses says “and since I'm a tiny part Seneca, I have ancestors who were here long before all you WHITE PEOPLE”
― 200 ―elflord has aunts, uncles, and first cousins scattered through Europe and southern Africa.
elflord is 0% Native American, but Diana has some Injun blood
Corwin is a bit Cherokee
Corwin says “or so I'm told”
Farron has no native american blood.
Farron is so white that he disappears against snowbanks.
Pyramid is a bit Jewish, that's the only thing keeping her from utter WASP-hood
Corwin says “Farron looks exactly like he should be in an Irish pub getting plastered”
Farron nods @ Corwin.
Farron says “all my traceable ancestors are Irish, Scots, or English.”
elflord's ancestors are German, Scots, English, and Norvegian
Bilerific-Sid's ancestors are greek and Rom.
Ulysses' ancestors are English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh, French, Dutch, German and Seneca
Several aspects of dominant United States discourses of race emerge in participants' expressions of their own heritage. The focus on ethnicity, rather than race, reflects dominant U.S. discourse regarding difference (Omi and Winant 1994: 14–23). Lists of mixed ancestry evoke “meltingpot” assimilationist models of U.S. culture. Sleeter has pointed out that “equating ethnicity with race is a … strategy for evading racism. When whites conceptualize cultural diversity within the U.S., … we usually subdivide Euro-American groups by ethnic origins, placing groups such as Germans, Poles, and Scots within the same conceptual plane as African Americans and Native Americans. This conceptual plane highlights cultural heritage; it denies whiteness as a phenomenon worth scrutiny and with it, white racism” (1996: 260). I would add that the evocation of the national origin of one's ancestors as a “cultural heritage” in itself is disingenuous for most white Americans. Most of the participants quoted above do not strongly identify with the cultures they name, nor do they engage in particular practices that reflect those cultures.
To use myself as an example, the legacy of my mother's Czechoslovakian ancestry for me has consisted mainly of knowledge of approximately twenty Czech words that my grandfather retaught me on each annual visit (and that, since his death, I've mostly forgotten); an appreciation for a type of Czech pastry; knowledge of a card game called Pitch and general enjoyment of large familial card games; and the ability to polka. While all of
Not all BlueSky participants have the same relationship to their ethnic backgrounds that I have. Itchy, born in Armenia, maintains active connections with and participation in his Armenian immigrant community. The historical oppression of Armenians by the Turks, their relatively recent arrival in the United States, and continued prejudice within this country against people from the Middle East and nearby regions give Itchy's Armenian identity meaning quite different from that of my own Czechoslovakian background.
Similarly, BJ's Jewish family left the Soviet Union during its 1980s loosening of emigration restrictions. Knowledge by participants that BJ emigrated from Russia at the age of eleven gives his self-identification as Russian a different meaning from, for instance, that of elflord's identification as part German. White relationships to ethnicity thus vary, particularly according to distance from time of immigration and connection to ethnic communities within the United States. But even the stronger meaning of some ethnic identities for white Americans doesn't erase the benefits they receive from white privilege. Race remains salient in the lives of white people, despite their disavowal of an identity termed “white.”
In the above discussion, participants recognize their connection to racial as well as ethnic identities through several references to whiteness. However, in most of their discussion they differentiate themselves from each other rather than recognize this common white identity. Frankenberg has identified lists of ethnic heritages such as those the BlueSky participants above cite as “belonging names” (1993: 205), demarcating an absence of identity that many white Americans perceive in themselves. Because of U.S. perceptions of whiteness as bland, empty, and normative, white people often name more specific “bounded” heritages. The need to evoke such boundaries relates specifically to commentaries concerning online “community,” which suggests that the need for community and perceptions of a lack of community in modern, urban U.S. culture drive people to create new kinds of community online. Such claims regarding the lack of community
As Frankenberg has pointed out, the strategy of identifying with bounded “belonging names” risks “romanticizing the experience of being oppressed” (1993: 230). This romanticization combines with guilt avoidance in the above discussion of Native American ancestry. Many white American families point to a single “Native American ancestor” in nearmythical fashion. Often the exact history of these ancestors is vague and unknown, as demonstrated by Corwin's assertion that he is “a bit Cherokee … or so I am told.” Whites who can point to this ancestry can lay claim to being “good whites” who presumably married rather than killed the Native Americans they encountered upon immigration. (This practice fails to consider, among other things, the ways in which social constructions of gender and race intertwine and the ways in which oppression occurs in and through sex and marriage.)
Conjuring the mythical nonwhite ancestor also serves to disavow white status, further reinforcing “melting pot” theories of U.S. ethnic experience and continuing to reproduce whiteness as empty and null. Pyramid's statement that she is “saved from utter WASP-hood” by virtue of being “a bit Jewish” enacts a similar strategy and presents whiteness as a negative identity to be “saved from.” Similarly, Bilerific-Sid's use of the pejorative term “honkies” and Ulysses' ironic distancing from “all you white people” demonstrate continuing uneasiness toward white identity. Pyramid, Bilerific-Sid, and Ulysses use these ironic statements to distance themselves from the implied privilege of white identity. Such statements, like RaveMage's earlier hesitation to admit his Harvard background, take on the appearance of modesty or disavowal while actually highlighting the claim to status, in this case whiteness. Few if any of these participants would likely actually give up the white identity they verbally disavow.
WHITE FLIGHT: AVOIDING RACIAL LABELING
BlueSky participants' responses to direct questions about their racial identities reflect the different experiences they bring to their online interactions as well as the charged nature of discussions of race. No one objected to my questions or refused outright to label themselves racially, but most asserted that their race made little difference online. Some also felt race made little difference in their offline lives. For instance, many white mudders said they didn't think about race much.
fnord whispers “um, just sort of generic caucasian mix, I suppose, never really think about it much”
HalfLife whispers “hmm … It's not something I think about. When asked I usually say Jewish; though I don't know if that's a race”
Alisa pages: I rarely give race thought at all—this may be mainly due to my upbringing more than a conscious effort on my part
Whiteness as an unmarked, empty category allows white people the luxury of not thinking about race. They fail to see the ways in which race and racialized understandings shape their view of the world and their movements within it. As Feagin and Vera note, “Most white respondents in research conducted by Robert Terry in the 1970s said that they had rarely or never thought about being white” (1995: 139).
As demonstrated in the conversation concerning ethnicity above, white BlueSky participants prefer to refer to themselves in ethnic terms. In this strategy, the term “Caucasian” sometimes substitutes for white. Others use more specific ethnic identifiers.
elflord whispers “I don't tend to think of myself as ‘a white boy’ so much as in terms of being ‘German/Norwegian/English/Scots,’ though—I think more in terms of nationality than race”
elflord's desire not to think of himself as “a white boy” saddles him with a complicated string of European referents. His labeling of these as nationalities exhibits the ambiguity of their meaning as identity terms. If asked his nationality in a context other than a discussion of race, elflord would likely label himself American or of United States nationality. But like the term “national origin” on census forms, here nationality stands in for the important but forbidden term “race.”
Other terms that participants substitute for white also indicate the difficulty whites sometimes have in finding terms that avoid the pitfalls of identifying as the upper term in a relationship of dominance, yet retain meaning in defining personal identity.
Ulysses whispers “yankee”
Ulysses senses “Copperhead laughs; ‘yankee?’”
Ulysses whispers “well, that's more of a culture than a race. race is white”
Alisa pages: My racial identity is ‘me’. I think if any physical characteristics have something to do with interactions, more often it's gender and cultural background more than ‘race’. ie, New Englanders vs native Californians vs midwesterners vs Them Dang Foreigners.
In these responses, the categories of race, ethnicity, place, and culture become conflated and confused. Alisa lumps three very different terms—“gender,” “cultural background,” and “race”—under the same rubric of “physical characteristics” that “have something to do with interactions.” This naturalizes racism as something having to do with the way people look. It also highlights the way in which “cultural background” substitutes for “race.” How else can one explain cultural background as something having to do with physical characteristics? As Bernardi (1998) notes in his analysis of online Star Trek fans' discussion of race, people consider race in terms both of physiognomy and social and cultural characteristics of groups, often in contradictory ways.
Talking about regional U.S. cultural differences also elides the question of power and displaces questions of difference into a less charged arena. For Alisa, as for a woman Frankenberg interviewed, “the assertion of differences that she can live with … stood in as quasi substitutes for race” (1993: 38). Interestingly, Alisa holds that differences between, for instance, New Englanders and Californians—often identified by accent and speech patterns in face-to-face interactions—can carry over to the electronic forum, where such speech patterns cannot be heard, while racial differ-ences—usually equated with skin color and other similar phenotypical signs—supposedly do not carry over.
Similarly, Ulysses' response of “yankee” replaces race with a quasiethnic regional identity, while Alisa's definition of her racial identity as “me” attempts to elude group classification altogether. The endeavor to elude racial classification may stem in part from a dissatisfaction with broad categories and the perceived lack of agency that such categorization imposes. Such dissatisfaction occurred in responses from both white and nonwhite respondents. However, coming from white respondents, the attempt to elude racial classification also serves to escape from a categorization that implies despotic power over others. Such responses seek distance from the term “white” and thereby retain whiteness as a null space.
White respondents sometimes implicitly indicated embarrassment or discomfort with white identity through use of derogatory terms for whiteness.
You sense Peg is pretty white, but not wonder-bread, her father's family are eastern europeans
In addition to referring to “real” whiteness as Wonder Bread (bland, nonnutritious, overprocessed), Peg sets up a hierarchy of whiteness in which
Asian American respondents also talked about racial identity in ways that mixed references to race and to ethnicity. Their distancing strategies from racial identity evidenced complex relationships to both their perceived ethnic heritages and communities and to the predominantly white spaces in which they worked and socialized. In their discussions, they sometimes associated whiteness with Americanization.
Tempest whispers “filipino. i'm not your typical flip, tho', i've been too americanized; the vast majority [of filipinos] are much calmer than i am:)”
Tempest whispers “that translates to: no tazers or 2x4s:)”
Tempest identifies as Filipino, yet distances himself from other Filipinos. His mention of tasers and two-by-fours refers to his BlueSky shtick of implied participation in indiscriminate violence. (Tempest's answers to roll calls and doing polls often mention the violent use of such weapons.) Thus, his distancing of himself from Filipino identity in the above statement refers directly to his BlueSky identity, implicitly recognizing the ways in which BlueSky exists as a white space in which white identities are performed.
Two other Asian American respondents' responses to racial categorization highlight the inaccuracy or insufficiency of categories imposed on them by others.
Spontaneity whispers “I'm in that ‘Asian and Pacific Islander’ bin the Federal Government uses, yup.”
RaveMage says “hmmm, well, as you probably know i call myself the ‘asian punkboy’:)”
Copperhead grins
RaveMage says “which is funny 'cos i'm actually filipino, which is actually a pacific islander; but bodkin and i have fun with the look:)”
RaveMage's reference to “the look” of Asian punkboy, as opposed to the “actual” identity of Filipino, highlights the artificiality of racial categories. His ability to “pass” as Asian relies on American racial categorizations, which take little notice of cultural differences.
Elektra similarly noted that people's perception of her racial identity did not necessarily match her understanding of her own identity. In the following discussion, she respond to my question regarding her racial identity.
Elektra pages: mexican, though i've been told i can pass for anything from white to asian to indian.
Copperhead whispers “I thought you were Filipina, although I don't know where i got that from.”
Elektra pages: you know, i heard that same thing from someone in louisville last month. of course, some of my cow-orkers thought i was white, so …
Copperhead whispers “what do you think about that? about being seen different ways by different people?”
Elektra pages: i think it's pretty damn funny.
As with other participants, I also asked Elektra whether race matters online:
Copperhead whispers “how much do you think race matters online, esp. here?”
Elektra pages: i don't think it matters here at all. maybe if i met/hung with more of the people here RL but since i don't it's not an issue with me.
Copperhead whispers “well, given that race doesn't matter much here, maybe you can give me a better idea of how it matters offline?”
Elektra pages: here in [town], it really doesn't. i think i got more reaction from people when i dyed my hair blue.
Copperhead whispers “do you think it has made a difference with people from here that you've met offline?”
Elektra pages: no, not that i've seen.
Copperhead whispers “ah. I was wondering because you said race didn't matter online but that it might if you saw these people more offline”
Elektra pages: hmmm.
Elektra's inconsistent responses point to the dilemma engendered by U.S. culture's “color-blind” stance toward race. Race isn't supposed to matter, and members of subordinated racial groups may hope it doesn't have much impact on their lives. Hence, Elektra insists it doesn't matter much either online or off, despite indications in her discussion that it does.
Her ability to pass as “anything from white to asian to indian” may allow her some flexibility in negotiating her identity in her small, predominantly white, midwestern town. Her reports of multiple interpretations of her appearance reveal the persistent attempts of people to categorize her racially. While avowedly amused by these multiple interpretations, her knowledge of others' confusion suggests that the subject of her racial identity comes up repeatedly in interactions with others.
“HOW WHITE ARE YOU?”
While many respondents distance themselves from racial categories in a variety of ways, one BlueSky participant attempts instead to re categorize himself. Jet complicates his Chinese American identity by referring to himself in online discussions as white. As evidenced by other participants' reactions below to Jet's statement that he is white, most know that his parents emigrated from China.
Jet rather enjoyed the LA riots in a sick way
Jet went to Canter's 3 days afterwards, and there was us, 4 white guys, and 12 cops
Jet says “That's it.”
Jet says “(we were the 4 white guys)”
Mender . o O (Jet's a white guy!)
Ichi giggles at Jet
Jet . o O (oh i am)
Jet says “You've met me, you know I'm white”
Mender says “not as white as I am, bucko”
Pyramid says “HOW WHITE ARE YOU?”
McKenzie says “Mender gets waspy”
Jet says “I'm pretty white”
Jet says “no joke”
Jet's positioning himself as white in a discussion that related at least in part to the Los Angeles uprisings may represent a distancing from other people of color, particularly African Americans. (Notice also that Mender's claim to be whiter than Jet provokes an accusation of WASPiness from McKenzie, again reproducing the hierarchy of whiteness in which white Anglo-Saxon Protestants represent real whiteness. However, Jet also refers to himself as white on numerous other occasions.)
When I asked Jet about self-defining as white, he talked about the ways in which “whiteness” marks a cultural identity as well as a racial distinction.
Copperhead whispers “several times when questions of ethnicity or race have come up you've made the statement that you're white; I'm wondering what you mean by that.”
Jet whispers “I mean that I am essentially an american clothed in a chinese body. I hardly know how to speak chinese, I hardly know anything about the
― 208 ―culture, and I don't associate with orientals a lot by choice, unlike many immigrant children. So I feel ‘white’, i.e. american”Copperhead whispers “so if ‘american’ ‘white’ is BlueSky a white space? And what does that mean for people who aren't white here?”
Jet whispers “mudding transcends ethnicity”
Jet whispers “i don't consider blue sky ‘white’ or ‘american’ or any ethnicity, i just consider it a place to hang out. if you were all asian and had the same personalities, so be it”
Jet whispers “no no, american ! = white” [the “!=” formulation is programming shorthand for “does not equal”]
Jet whispers “i use ‘white’ in the sense of the martin mull stereotype; very bland, whitebread; obviously i'm not. it's a sort of irony”
Jet connects racial identity to language use and non-American customs. Yet he refers to his own “cultural whiteness” and simultaneously denies cultural effects of race or ethnicity through his suggestion that it would be possible for BlueSky participants to be all Asian and yet have the same personalities. This elision of the cultural aspects of race, which is highlighted by his ironic labeling of himself as white, enables him nevertheless to claim that mudding transcends ethnicity.
Thus, Jet suggests that the physical characteristics associated with race do not determine his identity. Although acknowledging his ethnic heritage in some ways (at another point in the conversation he stated, for instance, that he would prefer to marry another Asian American) and labeling his body Chinese, Jet labels himself white on the basis of the cultural affinities that seem to him more salient for his identity. However, he still gives that identity a racial label. Also, although he denies that American equals white, the race label he gives his American identity is “white.” Jet's representation of himself as white serves as a “racial project,” which, in Omi and Winant's words, forms both “an interpretation, representation, or explanation of racial dynamics, and an effort to reorganize and redistribute resources along particular racial lines” (1994: 56). In Jet's case, his representation of himself as white reinforces the dominant order in which benefits accrue to those who are white. But he also attempts to reposition himself as entitled to those benefits, because, beneath the “clothing” of his Chinese body, he is “really” white.
In recognition of the ironic contradictions involved in his self-identity, Jet, like Peg, associates true whiteness with “bland, whitebread.” Like Peg, Jet can thereby be white but not really white. Both participants mark themselves with an ironically detached white-but-not-white identity. But
This emphasizes both the absence and the presence of race online. Gilroy argues that race and racism are processes and that the meanings of race “are unfixed and subject to the outcomes of struggle” (1987: 24). We are taught to classify people by skin color and other identifiers that we learn to associate with race. Hence, I can easily point to Peg and label her white and to Jet and label him Asian. But the meanings of these designations vary and are sites of struggle, as both Jet and Peg indicate in their self-identifications. When these struggles are brought online, some of their parameters change. (However, note that Jet's self-identification of white is challenged by others who have met him.) The assertion that race doesn't matter online essentializes the connection between race and physical appearance, but it also points out the potential unavailability of that connection in online interactions. While participants bring their assumptions about race with them to online interactions, they perform racial identities under slightly different rules.
As with Jet's statement that mudding transcends ethnicity, most BlueSky participants believe that race has no effect on their online interactions. However, their most common reply to my questions concerning the effects of race on online interaction highlights the ways in which racial assumptions nevertheless form a backdrop for those interactions. When I asked white participants whether race matters online or not, they often mentioned one of the few black mudders they know.
Corwin is a white boy, and hasn't seen as how people have any clue what race anyone is; he's pretty sure nobody realized for ages that a few black MUSHers were black, for instance
elflord whispers “I rarely see race playing a major factor in BlueSky discussion—like many other forms of online interaction, one's race isn't glaringly obvious. It was years before I even knew Sand was black, for instance.
Peg whispers “well, i don't know unless someone mentions it, obviously, but people don't seem to act any differently. there was one girl (katrina?) who was black but it never came up in conversation”
These white participants associate race and racial relations specifically with the question of blackness. In these statements, the ultimate test of whether race matters online is the ability of black people to pass unnoticed as black. This emphasizes both the presumed desirability of hiding blackness and the assumption that people online are white. While the latter assumption is not unreasonable, given the current demographics of online participants, it demonstrates the extent to which anonymity cannot be classified as an absence of identity characteristics. When black participants must state that they are black in order to be recognized as such, anonymity carries with it a presumptive identity of whiteness.
That white mudders reference blackness also highlights the polarization of discourse about race in the United States into a question of whiteness versus blackness. While people certainly use racial language in references to mudders of other groups, my evocation of the “race question” through my questions about race online elicits responses that rely on this dualism. Rather than considering the many active Asian American regulars on BlueSky, these responses instead refer to the very few African American mudders participants have known. This may also allow them to distance themselves from potential racial conflicts “out there” rather than considering the racial differences in their own day-to-day lives.
Nonwhite BlueSky participants recognize the default assumption of whiteness online and consider its implications for their own identities.
Copperhead says “one of the things I've been trying to figure out is whether BlueSky is a ‘white’ space; I would argue that it is a ‘male’ space”
RaveMage says “i'd say totally male, ya; I mean, look at all the sexist banter”
RaveMage says “but then again all the males are caucasian or move well in caucasian spaces”
While perhaps stopping short of agreeing with my implied identification of BlueSky as a white space, RaveMage, a Filipino American, recognizes the possibility that social spaces can be racially categorized. He also suggests that those who are not members of the dominant racial group in a particular social space must learn to “move well” in that type of space. This implies a recognition of racial identities as performed within particular social contexts.
Similarly, Anguish, a Korean American, reveals a view of both online and offline social interaction steeped in a racial context and suggests the potential for racial identities to be performed:
Anguish whispers “I think most people assume most everyone else is white [online], and for the most part, they'd be right. When people find out I'm Asian, there is a little surprise, but not much”
Copperhead whispers “hmm.”
Copperhead whispers “do you think people ‘act white’ here in some way?”
Anguish whispers “is there a way of acting otherwise? irl and online, I think people act white mostly.”
Anguish whispers “I've acted ‘not-white’, but only among other not-whites.”
Copperhead whispers “huh, that's interesting; can you tell me how that differs for you?”
Anguish whispers “well, I act in the ways I was taught to by my parents, i.e., Korean customs. An intrinsic part of that is language. The language here is English.”
Much as Tempest opposes his Filipino heritage to his fit within the “American” context of BlueSky and Jet discusses “whiteness” versus American identity, Anguish opposes the racial category of “white” to a cultural category of “Korean.” While identifying herself as Asian, she says that she nevertheless “acts” white most of the time. As with Alisa's juxtaposition of physical characteristics and cultural background, Anguish's suggestion that she is Korean American but can act either white or Korean again blends references to ethnicity and race and represents race as something both physical and cultural.
These examples demonstrate that nonwhites perform their identities often within contexts dominated by whites. With race tied to both physical and cultural factors, nonwhites thus can “act white” but not “be white.” No wonder, then, that many see cyberspace as a place where race “doesn't matter” and where the effects of racism can be escaped. The absence of bodies and access to physical markers of race online leads some to hope that “acting” is “being.” However, this fails to recognize that, as Omi and Winant point out, “race is a matter of both social structure and cultural representation” (1994: 56). In our racially charged culture, all performed identities contain and convey racial meanings. As the statements by BlueSky participants indicate, race continues to matter online, even if all participants can act white and even pass for white.
However, the online absence of physical cues that people use to distinguish racial identities makes a difference in how race matters online. Indeed, some nonwhite participants find the online presumption of whiteness advantageous.
Spontaneity whispers “I've noticed a lack of harassment on line in general.”
Copperhead whispers “that's interesting; less harassment online than off?”
Spontaneity whispers “Yah. Now, it may just be that people are able to be more subtle on-line, but I don't think so. For example, it's fairly common for me to get shouted at on the streets.”
As Spontaneity, a Chinese American, indicates, the lack of physical markers can result in freedom from harassment. If, as Anguish indicates, everybody acts white most of the time, those white acts online can float free of their ties to physical markers of race. However, because the space this opens up for speech from nonwhites remains white in some sense, this advantage constitutes a form of “passing” for white rather than a true dissolution of racial difference and hierarchy. All BlueSky participants, to some extent or another, perform a white masculine identity. Passing for white is also more feasible online than off. While this may constitute some degree of “leveling the playing field,” the type of game and its rules remain unquestioned.
RACE AND SPEECH
As in other U.S. social spaces, current events provide context for discussions about identity. The following conversation occurred on October 3, 1995, the day the verdict was announced in the criminal trial of O. J. Simpson. On BlueSky, the O. J. Simpson trial occasioned many more discussions regarding race than usually occur. McKenzie reacts to Mender's discussion of a news report by engaging in the kind of associative wordplay commonly enjoyed on BlueSky. He associates the phrase “race card,” which figured in media discussions of the trial, with a heavy metal song entitled “Ace of Spades.” The combination results in more meanings than he intends.
Mender says “Shapiro said Cochran ‘played the race card from the bottom of the deck’”
McKenzie says “RACE OF SPADES”
Copperhead reshuffles
henri eyes McKenzie
Mender HOWLS at McKenzie
McKenzie winces at that not-all-intentional pun
Barbie says “good thing there aren't too many black mudders”
Jet headbangs
Jet says “THE RACE OF SPADES ! THE RACE OF SPADES”
― 213 ―Mender . o O (it's a wonder McKenzie hasn't been beat up more)
Jet | McKenzie says “RACE OF SPADES”
McKenzie says “honest, I didn't mean all the ugly implications, I was just thinking Motorhead”
Mender says “MCKENZIE'S A BAD COP”
henri says “EXCEPT FOR THE COP PART”
McKenzie says “EGREGIOUS RACISM”
Jet understands McKenzie's reference to heavy metal, as indicated by his pose “Jet headbangs.” Other reactions to McKenzie's unintended meaning demonstrate the knowledge of participants that racial slurs violate the social norm. (Jet continued for days afterward to torment McKenzie by quoting his slip back to him.)
The suggestion that McKenzie's comment risks a beating, when combined with Barbie's comment that it's a “good thing there aren't too many black mudders,” serves to naturalize racial conflict. The BlueSky participants present here an understanding of a world in which racial groups (in this case, blacks) can be expected to react violently to racial slurs targeted at them, but violence need not be feared from one's own group, even when members of that group object to the racist meanings.
The question of the presence or absence of black mudders in the above conversation highlights again the question of audience online. While on BlueSky people generally know the composition of their audience, they are aware of the potential for audience ambiguity online and the questions this raises with regard to racial speech.
henri whispers “I think the race issue is very similar to RL, except that when someone says something off-color I don't know in which direction to wince”
Copperhead whispers “hmmm, how do you mean?”
henri whispers “well in general I don't like hearing racist jokes, for example, and it makes me uncomfortable, but whenever I hear one on here (which is very seldom, although I can remember some cases in the past) I expect someone I've never met in RL to say ‘but I'M black’ (or whatever, but clearly african-american is the most loaded situation)”
henri indicates that racist jokes might be told online by people who assume their audience is white. But henri's expectation that at that moment someone might protest the joke by revealing his or her nonwhite racial identity points out the ambiguity of audience online. To the extent that people are less likely to tell racist (or sexist, or homophobic) jokes when members of
Racialized meanings are not limited to jokes specifically targeted at racial groups. Whites' ability to “not think” about race allows racism embedded in patterns of speech and assumptions about “normal” interactions to go unnoticed. The following example demonstrates a way of thinking and type of speech that naturalize and take for granted the history of racism in the United States. Thomas talked to me about Boontit, a programmed object on the mud that acts something like a robot and that Thomas regularly loms. I asked him whether Boontit annoyed him and why he so consistently vented hostility on an object.
Thomas whispers “Boontit meets a useful need I think that actually Jeff and Florin provided. That's an angst sink.”
Copperhead whispers “That's interesting. Tell me what you mean by that. For other people's angst?”
Thomas whispers “Well, if you're frustrated with work or something. You can also think of it as sort of a punching bag or a target that can be universally reviled and everybody can sort of egg you on without fear.”
Thomas whispers “Unfortunately, what used to be in the past with some racial interactions, where the KKK would ‘let's go find ourselves a nigger to go beat up’ you know. Just sort of release. Boontit can be one of those. If you're frustrated you can take it out on Boontit.”
Thomas talks about KKK actions “in the past,” and his analysis of Boontit's usefulness essentially deletes the racism from racist organizations. By implying that KKK violence has been motivated by the kinds of frustrations that everybody experiences (“with work or something”), he denies the specifically racial character and motivation of racist violence.
Thomas's statement demonstrates some of the ways in which racism remains embedded in white speech at the level of fundamental assumptions about human behavior. BlueSky participants consider themselves to be tolerant and inclusive. Although they acknowledge that, as Peg says, “we don't really have a real cross-section of all society here,” many of my interviewees pointed to the wide variety of people in terms of such variables as political opinions, religious affiliations, and so forth. My aim here
Omi and Winant point out that “one of the first things we notice about people when we meet them (along with their sex) is their race” (1994: 59) and that, on the basis of our cultural knowledge of racial differences, we make assumptions based upon those appearances. “We expect differences in skin color, or other racially coded characteristics, to explain social differences” (60). One might expect then that, in a social environment in which people encounter and interact with others without being able to see them, online participants would not make gendered, raced, and classed assumptions about each other. Certainly many online participants, in keeping with the predominance of the ideal of “color blindness” in our society, claim that this is the case.
Yet gender and race are concepts that “signif[y] and symboliz[e] social conflicts and interests by referring to different types of human bodies” (Omi and Winant 1994: 55, emphasis added). The importance of such signification and symbolization continues in online interaction. The bodies of others may remain hidden and inaccessible, but this if anything gives ref erences to such bodies even more social importance. As Omi and Winant explain, “Despite its uncertainties and contradictions, the concept of race continues to play a fundamental role in structuring and representing the social world” (55). This remains true about race as well as about gender, class, sexuality, and age, especially when that “uncertainty” is compounded by the lack of physical presence in online encounters. Online participants assume that other participants do have bodies and that those bodies, if seen, would reveal important information. The assumed congruence between certain types of bodies and certain psychological, behavioral, and social characteristics results in the expectation by online participants that aspects of the hidden bodies—of, in effect, other participants' “true” identities—can be deduced (if imperfectly) from what is revealed online.
On the other hand, the inability to discern physical cues and the concomitant ambiguities of identity and potential for anonymity do have some
The culture of BlueSky and those of similar online spaces have been constructed by people from particular (relatively homogeneous) backgrounds. As such, these cultural contexts continue to appeal to people from those backgrounds and to re-create particular meanings and understandings. Increases in online diversity will not necessarily change these existing norms.