This is more of a stream of consciousness post while I try to figure things out.  At some point I hope to do more research on the issues at hand write something a bit more coherent.

It all started with the Article on Gizmodo, Why I Stalk a Sexy Black Woman on Twitter (And Why You Should, Too)

It rubbed me the wrong way.  People who were offended by this had a very hard time articulating why they were offended.  The easiest term to come up with is “racist”.  Though it does come across that way I am fairly sure it wasn’t intentional.  What it did bring up were issues of privilege,the gaze and the black female body.

The fact that there are so many black people shouldn’t be shocking, but the privilege aspects means that when people think of digital media outlets, especially mainstream ones, black people aren’t the first users that come to mind for a majority of people (for better or for worse).  The worst part is, all the black people I know read Gizmodo.  But, our readership is apparently invisible.

Another privledged issue was this idea of “picking” a black person after searching for one.  From the article “So I picked out my new friend and started to pay attention.”  It is a terminology issue. Most people follow people on twitter because they have tweets that are of interest to them. They follow said person.  The picking a random black female to follow, even subconsciously, can’t help but hearken back to the days of slave auctions.  Which brings us to the gaze.

Regarding the Gaze, the sexualization of her body in the title alone, added to the use of the term “stalking” and in the parenthesis addendum at the end of the article after stating she was charming and attractive was very… of putting:

“You can start simply, like I did, by finding someone charming and attractive. (I’m not ashamed to say I enjoy looking at the sexy pictures she puts up when she’s flirting with guys online.) “

It implies that despite anything else she may bring to the table, in the end, just as in the beginning, the most important qualities she could have as a black female deserving his interest (and she is the first one on twitter who ever did), is her sexuality.  And it isn’t an interactive sexuality.  It is again controlled by his gaze over her body as though she were on display.

So, this made me think about my biggest question in terms of my research, “what does it mean to be black online?”

This article would lead me to believe that for some people being black online means that a (black) person gets denied part of their humanity and becomes first and foremost black.  A (black) person exists to be observed as though they were an exhibit of the viewers notion of blackness.   This very much reminds me of human zoos of yesteryear (and today in some places, though they are now “cultural centers”).  I think it will be a very interesting place to possibly take my research.

To be black means to be invisible until sought and to be sought to fill a need of someone that is not part of your social group by choice.  (I say by choice because if someone is on twitter or reading gizmodo and in to tech or an all around ‘dork’, they were part of the author’s social group.  The author made them “other”.)  The reason I found this so disturbing is the distancing that was done by the author.  The user he was following never had the capability of becoming just another twitter user.  The only reason the person was worth following was their blackness.  This means that, regardless to what the person was tweeting, all of their tweets were seen as representative and inseparable from their blackness further continuing the dynamic of privilege that exist for the author of the piece.