Category Archives: Ravynn: Act 3

Making the Digital Physical: AADHum’s “Intentionally Digital, Intentionally Black” Conference

Following the opening session of University of Maryland’s African American History, Culture and Digital Humanities’ (AADHum) “Intentionally Digital, Intentionally Black” conference on Friday, the first thing I did was run up for a hug from a young man named Nathan Dize. Nathan and I were strangers in real life; but we were also twitter friends. This process of linking up with people that I knew digitally IRL was a huge personal theme of this particular conference. Not only were we in community by virtue of our research interest, but many of us were connected virtually. While the content of this conference, which I’ll get to I promise, was incredible, a large part of the joy I derived from this experience came from the opportunity to be in physical proximity with the people that provide me with a large amount of my academic support. What does it mean to make the digital physical? Better yet, how does it feel to make the digital physical? For me, it feels like the best of me is being seen, supported and loved. Now, how many academic conferences can you say do that kind of affective labor?

I understand that it seems gauche to talk about love in an academic setting, but so much of my intellectual growth stems from Black women scholars at this conference who loved me simply for being a “Black girl [doing] grad school.” Black women scholars both on twitter and in the digital humanities have nurtured me; they have pushed me; they have included me. While enraptured by wonderful panels featuring Black women scholars, such as Always at Work: Black Women Online and Do It For the Culture: Black Humor and Narrative Strategies Online, I found that some of the best intellectual conversations I had with Black women scholars were by chance.

I ran into Dr. Gabrielle Foreman while trying to catch another panel and she talked to me about how she came up with the idea of project CVs, which emphasize collective work for digital humanities projects. Dr. Raven Maragh Lloyd told me about a conversation with her Uber driver on the way to the conference in which she was asked how the work she creates benefits the community. These innovations and questions should lead us to ask our own important questions: who are we serving and why? How can our relationships with community partners be mutually beneficial? How do we adequately represent the work we do on collaborative digital humanities projects? As Dr. Andre Brock and Dr. Jessica Marie Johnson pointed out in their keynote, we also need to be occupied with the banal and the joy that brings— so I point to these examples of everyday joy I experienced while being in an extraordinary, yet admittedly still ephemeral, space.

Though only a temporary space, it was constructed in such a way that everyone could feel included and cared for. From the pronouns on our badges and gender neutral bathrooms at the Riggs Center, to the lactation and quiet rooms, participants were cared for in a way which should be standard. Our humanity was acknowledged, respected and catered to. While I did not take advantage of many of these spaces, it was a comfort to know they were there should I have needed them. These touches (which were by no means “small”) helped effectively translate the communities of safety we have been building online into a physical space.

The lessons I learned while at #AADHum2018 will stay with me throughout my career as a scholar, especially as echoes of the conference will likely reverberate through tweets for months to come. I contended with Timeka N. Tounsel’s idea of “monetized resistance” as I work to reframe the way I think about my own blog for example. Tounsel argued that there’s work to be done in reframing the way Black women think about their digital labor— we should not cast it off as leisure, but acknowledge it for the intellectual intervention that it is. Grace Gipson’s presentation, “Exploring the Black Female in Comics Fandom through Digital Storytelling (Black Girl Nerds and Misty Knight’s Uninformed Afro)” gave me a colleague that discusses everything I’m interested in: fandom, aca-fans, Black girl nerds, superheroes, blogs and podcasts all rolled into one. I didn’t know it was possible to make sense of all of those things together, but then again Black women have always found ways to do the impossible. I’m still reeling from Marissa Parham’s incredible talk on the This Code Cracks: A #BlackCodeStudies Roundtable in which she had the audience consider what it would mean for a reader to remix an essay for oneself, amongst a number of other insanely evocative questions, all while dragging sections of her essay, “Break and Dance”, gifs and graphics around a remixable screen. Seeing these powerful Black women scholars captivating audiences with words and technical skill inspired me to walk in my own truth and power. My words are magic too, I just need to learn to harness their energy.

My primary focus on the Black women scholars at this conference throughout this piece stems from a lack of intellectual and emotional sanctuary and support at my own institution. Nevertheless, I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the Black men that did not come to play. Dr. Julian Chambliss took time out of his day to talk with me, a budding comics scholar; Rashad Timmons had everybody retweeting quotes from his paper, “Hashtag Bodies, Hegemony and the Deadly Terrain of Civil Society”; and Dr. Andre Brock snatched everybody’s edges with his assertion that colored peoples’ time is a, “Joyous disregard for modernity and labor capitalism.” (He said what he said, y’all.)

In addition to the wonderful roundtables and panels that AADHum put together for participants, there were also digital poster and demo sessions. This was one of the many moments where I wished I could be in multiple places at once during the conference. I wanted to see all of the posters, but I also wanted to experience a demo, as I had never seen humanities people give poster presentations; nor had I seen a digital humanities demo in the way that AADHum had conceived of it. I intended to stop in at each poster for a few minutes, but during the first session I was so enthralled by Sherri William’s presentation, “Amplifying Black Voices Through Digital Journalism,” that before I knew it, a member of the AADHum team was letting participants know that the session was over. The posters provided an excellent alternative presentation format which encouraged both small group and one-on-one conversations around the presenter’s topic; which for someone like me, who is often too intimidated to ask questions in large group settings, was a perfect opportunity to engage with scholarship on a more personal level.

It was beautiful. It was wonderful. It was Black. It was digital. It was an honor to have been in community with so many wonderful thinkers. It was a thrill to watch my digital world transform from pixelated into reality.

Week 7: Fall Break Reflections

Fall Break is often a time of reflection here on Black Girl Does Grad School. In the past, I’ve taken the break in classes to reflect on the first half of the semester, assess my progress on my goals, and even highlight some of the better texts I’ve read.

So, as I enter the fourth quarter of the year, I think it would be a good practice to assess the goals I set for myself a few weeks ago in “Week 1, or Goal Setting for a New Semester.

  1. Get through this last semester of coursework in one piece.
    1. ASSESSMENT: At half way through the semester, I think I can say that I’m getting through coursework okay. I’m reading the assigned material, I’m completing the writing assignments, and I’m going to class and participating. Fall break means it’s time to finalize those final project/paper ideas so that when I come back next week, I’m ready to start the projects in earnest.
  2. Finalize my Comps Committee.
    1. ASSESSMENT: This is done! I’m working with my advisor Professor Lynn Weiss on the first half of my African American Literature field, Professor Hermine Pinson on the second half, Professor Mel Ely on African American Intellectual History, and Professor Liz Losh on Comics and Media Studies.
  3. Set a date for my Comps Colloquium.
    1. ASSESSMENT: This is also done! I had my colloquium three weeks ago on September 21. I even set a date for my exams at the colloquium: April 29-May 3, and May 9th for the oral examination.
  4. Start reading for Comps.
    1. ASSESSMENT: I’m rocking and rolling on comps prep. I have a color coded, multi-tabbed spreadsheet where I itemized every text I have to read, and then started a tab where I planned out my reading schedule for each week until December. (I’m reading on average 10 texts per week: a healthy mix of peer-reviewed monographs, articles, essays and fiction/poetry.)
  5. Prioritize my health.
    1. ASSESSMENT: I don’t know how well I’m doing on that front. I started cooking for myself again, which is a step up from existing on popcorn and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. In “Goal Setting for a New Semester,” I said, Instead of laying in bed watching all of my favorite CW shows, I think I’ll take my iPad to the gym and walk on the treadmill while I watch instead. That, in all honesty, has not happened. In a half hearted defense, my favorite CW shows just came back on this week. (Okay, stop judging me, I’ll go to the gym, I promise.)
  6. I am going to prioritize my joy.
    1. ASSESSMENT: Because I’m reading for comps and doing coursework and trying to work for the Lemon Project, I haven’t been doing too great at prioritizing my joy aside from making time to catch up on TV. I did paint one small quotation for my new office last week, but I think I need to just take myself on an outing to Michaels and get new craft supplies so I’m inspired to make something with them.
  7. I am going to write again.
    1. ASSESSMENT: I’m doing it! It’s been hard to do but I started a new novel, I’ve continued to work on Black Girl Does Grad School, and I have a few ideas for a new short story that I need to just sit down and write. I’m not going to let rejection turn me around. I wrote more about my relationship to my words last week after meeting Nell Scovell.
  8. I am going to spend more time with people.
    1. ASSESSMENT: I’m definitely doing this. I’m not sure why all of a sudden I’m so social. Perhaps because this is my third year in this city and I know people from my last two years who want to catch up, or because I’m in my second year in a position that has brought me in contact with a lot of undergraduate students, or because I simply am feeling up to making new friends or connecting with old ones, whatever the case may be, for the first time, my network of friends in Williamsburg is big enough that I feel taken care of here. It’s ironic, because the last couple of weeks I’ve been wanting to withdraw again, but I’m reminding myself now that my goal was to embrace sociality.

I’m doing well on 6/8 of my goals from the start of the semester! When I reassess again at the end of the semester, hopefully I will have kept my promise to myself to hit the gym and to prioritize my joy. Even though there are two goals I haven’t worked on, I take heart in knowing that there were six that I have completed or am working on. I’m always doing so much better than I give myself credit for.


As you enter the fourth quarter, how are you doing on goals you set for yourself this year?

Week 6: Meeting Nell Scovell and the Power of Words

This past week, author of Just the Funny Parts: …And a Few Hard Truths About Sneaking into Hollywood’s Boy’s Club, and creator of one of my favorite shows, Sabrina the Teenage Witch Nell Scovell, visited William & Mary, spending an hour chatting with a group of students, faculty and community members, answering questions, giving advice, and leaving me with much to think about. In that hour, I learned that Scovell’s favorite thing she has ever written was a script that was never produced; which answered the question: What if people were judged by who they were and not what they looked like? I learned that people like Sheryl Sandberg, Anita Hill and other people who display courage in the face of pushback inspire her. And I learned that common threads in her work are her curiosity and the thrill of the challenge of writing something new.

While all of that was great, and I enjoyed her candor and humor in answering those questions, I was most moved by the conversations we had around her writing: her process, her motivations, and her advice. “If you’re a writer,” she said, “you can move into different worlds.” Scovell got her start writing sports articles for the Harvard Crimson. She spent time writing first person columns for Cosmopolitan, and even articles about leasing cars. I was so entranced by the allure of her writing for shows like Sabrina and The Simpsons, that it never occurred to me that she had a writing career before she “made it” in television.

Her adventures in writing were so diverse. They were expansive. Though she never said it explicitly, all she wanted to do was write, and she’d write about anything; just as long as she had an opportunity to put pen to paper or fingers on a keyboard. She was hungry for challenges. Nothing was impossible, there were only obstacles to conquer. Her stories were like a new age Odyssey but with a female lead. Writing, it became clear, can take you places. It can take you anywhere.

Scovell gave some great advice on writing. She told us that when you’re just starting out, just say yes, you never know where it will lead. She told us that you can’t just write, you have got to write a lot. And she told us that you must put yourself into the world to be judged. As someone who is still feeling the sting of her latest rejections, I had to ask her, “If you’re putting yourself out into the world to get judged and getting rejected, how do you deal?” She smiled and told me to keep those who support me close, and ultimately, take the feedback you want and screw the rest.

During the talk, she said one thing that really stood out to me, “I don’t understand people who are scared to try something new. If you do it well, it’s great, but if you fail, you have the best excuse in the world: ‘I’d never done this before!’” Instantly, I thought about the time Micah encouraged me to write a script. I gave her all the excuses: I’d never written one so I didn’t know how, I didn’t have an idea, I didn’t have software, and so on and so forth. Then I thought about the time I sat in a dimly lit room on the second floor of Clemons Library with a group of other Black UVA students and wrote monologues. I’d never written a monologue before. I’d also never written something that would be used for performance before, but I had a story that I needed someone, anyone, to hear and so I wrote.

I still have that hunger. I still have stories I need to tell. I still need to write.

I don’t know if there will ever come a day when I won’t need to put words on paper.

So I met Nell Scovell, and after Professor Losh generously plugged my blog during the talk, Scovell asked me to write down my site for her. I’m always still amazed when anyone wants to read my words. I wrote the link on the back of one of my new business cards and chatted with her for a while after the formal talk was over. She asked me if I wanted to write for TV and “yes” flew out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to catch up. Looking back, even if I’d had a second to think before I spoke, I still would have said yes. Anyone that knows me knows that I would love a crack at writing for a superhero TV show, particularly a spin off about a certain superhero girlfriend with the initials LL.

Nell Scovell cracked my world wide open with one simple question. One day, if I keep writing, writing a lot, and getting feedback, my writing is going to exist in a lot more places than this site and amongst the piles of other essays on my professors’ desks. My words do not have to know bounds. They can exist in academic journals, literary reviews, blogs, magazines, newspapers, TV, film, novels, screenplays. So long as I continue to believe in my words and put them out into the world, they can take me anywhere. I just have to believe it.

And I do. I really, really do.

(Oh, and Nell? If you’re reading this, thanks.)