The Facebook Fast

Almost a month ago, I got the notion in my head to find out what life would be like without Facebook. I signed up in 2006, and while I was no longer at my peak use, Facebook had become integrated in my life in other ways. I wanted to find out how dependent my online life was on Facebook. Here's what I discovered.

• Social login: I use Facebook for social sign-on for a number of apps and websites. Losing this functionality was one of my biggest concerns, but as it turns out, I don't depend on it nearly as much as I thought I did. Most sites allowed me to use my Twitter account to sign in, so dropping Facebook didn't mean losing social sign-on.
• Information: Facebook provides a quick way for me to look up information I should really already know, like my roommate's birthday or how to properly spell my new niece's name. I can do it on the spot without anyone being the wiser. I do miss that.
• Relationships: To be perfectly honest, the only pictures and milestones I miss having Facebook for are of my niece and nephew, and not having Facebook available at all times makes it more difficult to show off their cuteness on the fly. Okay, I also miss sharing cat videos with friends (they don't seem worthy of an email). What I don't miss, however, is life-bragging™ of people I went to high school with, or the constant political banter the election season and the wake of a tragic shooting in Connecticut. Instead, I get to just have real conversations with people about these important topics. People with whom I have an actual relationship of substance I talk with in person, on the phone, or (gasp!) write letters.
• Advertising: One positive of Facebook is it provides small local businesses with a free online presence that doesn't look horrid. Deactivating my Facebook account didn't mean I couldn't access basic information like hours through Facebook, but it did mean I couldn't offer my support through Facebook likes. On the other hand, now I don't have to deal with a skewed feed telling me about all my friends liking Walmart, and that's pretty great.

Ultimately, leaving Facebook hasn't had nearly the withdrawal effect I expected, which is great. I left the app on my phone to find out how much time I mindlessly used it, and after about a week, the habit drastically reduced. I'm happy it's been that easy to let go of a false sense of connection in favor of fostering more meaningful ones.

A Response to "Universal Design IRL" (and ensuing commentary)

Earlier this week, Sara Wachter-Boettcher (editor-in-chief of industry darling A List Apart) wrote a poignant article about the importance of diversity in our industry and the challenges we still face to achieve that ideal. There was a lot of debate surrounding her assertions, and I'd contend that a large chunk of it completely sidestepped her real points.

The Clash

I was lured into a Twitter debate by this statement from Andy Rutledge (who seems to have blocked me in some way since our banter is now "protected;" luckily I took a screenshot of the conversation prior to the block so I can accurately quote both of us):

Newsflash: It's not 1830. Women and minorities are fully capable of fending for themselves. Apologists expose themselves as today's bigots.

I responded with a tweet that, in retrospect, could be construed as snarky but actually wasn't mean to be:

So thousands of years of power imbalance doesn't affect the present?

The point I was trying to make was that while yes, we are privileged to now live in a time and place that doesn't automatically discount people's abilities based on race or gender a majority of the time, the reality is that our culture at large hasn't entirely caught up with this ideal (and it won't for a while because change takes time).

The world we live in was, for most of history, built by and for white men.

I'm a fiercely independent woman, and I've done nothing but fight to support myself without help (particularly government help) since high school. So I wanted to hit him when he gave this ad hominem response to my question about the impact of history:

No. Welcome to the present. Walk on your own two legs. No one can do it for you. If they try, hit them.

Common Ground?

Here's a confession: not that long ago, I would've agreed with Mr. Rutledge's perspective.

I was raised by parents who didn't teach me that people often explicitly or implicitly look at women differently when it comes to abilities (that was fun to deal with first-hand working in a small Texas town). I grew up believing that if you work hard, your efforts are rewarded.

The reality is, I've discovered from experience, the world doesn't work that way all the time. I wish it was a simple/straightforward as Mr. Rutledge makes it out to be, I really do. I've just experienced too much evidence to the contrary. And personally I'd rather be part of creating a solution than part of feeding the problem.

Instead of focusing on points of disagreement, let's pull out where we probably ultimately agree: women are just as capable as men. Take a moment to appreciate that agreement.

Done? Great.

The Resolution

I think the first step to getting closer to our shared ideal is acknowledging that we're not there yet. It is okay to not be there yet because we are moving in the right direction and we've got to give up being so defensive about our faults.

Here's where I think my opinions and experiences clash with those like Mr. Rutledge. For some reason (and this is an assumption of course), it feels like some readers took the article as some kind of admonition for diversity to be obligatory or even government-imposed (leftover political angst?). I can see how that would spark a lot of resentful feelings. In general, I'm not often in favor of forcing behaviors.

But I don't think that was Ms. Wachter-Boettcher's point. I think she intended to offer a more organic reflection on values and how we express those values to push us to get the most out of industry events.

In fact, when you return to the original article, that seems to be precisely what she's getting at (and what the discussion has sadly gotten away from). I'd contend that her calls to action boil down to two things:

• Be a decent human being and don't tolerate inappropriate behavior by your peers, especially toward those who aren't traditionally part of your group.
• Find ways to welcome people who can bring fresh insight into the industry because it will make us better.

What she's not saying? She's not saying white men are the enemy or aren't valuable. She's not saying to include minority groups out of obligation or pity. She's not saying that she always gets it right.

Instead of getting caught up in political philosophy, why can't we dig into the meat of what she's challenging us to accomplish in order to make our industry stronger? Personally, I'm growing leaps and bounds as an individual with the efforts of groups like Girl Develop It (women teaching women how to code). And guess what? I don't have to argue with anyone about it.

What's in a Name? (And Why I Hate the Word "Content")

I'm feeling angsty lately, and it's not just because of my first ever Twitter debate. I am a woman of words, but I haven't found the right words for what I do with content. I've been reading Mike Monteiro's Design is a Job (one of very few books I've given five stars) and found myself feeling out of place but in the best kind of ways.

(Okay the best kind of ways really happen in Austin, where you see things like a dude walking his dog on a unicycle. Seriously, I can't make this shit up. Moving on though.)

I'm going to bring you back to your SAT days with this analogy, inspired by a man who likes Tastykakes more than your average California resident:

Designer : Artist :: BLANK : Writer

When I say "writer," I'm talking about creative writers—you know, the kind who sit around drinking absinthe and scribbling out poetry... and hanging out with painters. These are pure artists; they create art for its own sake, not deliberately intending for it to fulfill a practical purpose.

Design (once called "commercial art" long, long ago in a land far away) take elements of art and make it work for its money. Good design can delight and challenge in the same ways good art does—but it starts with an agenda. I'd argue that art with an agenda is walking the line of design.

Writing a novel with an agenda, on the other hand, is a fast way to get bitch slapped by an editor. Creative writing that trends toward intentional messaging may be a sin, but the upside is that "commercial writing" that trends toward the artistic (think storytelling rather than fact-spewing) is desirable.

That's good news for me because personally, I prefer to create things with a purpose and I prefer to do it in a way that people actually enjoy. I love art and literature, but what I want to spend my time making is something with a goal in mind. That's just the way I roll. Unfortunately, my Dad is still telling me I need to write the next Harry Potter novel to make it big with my word skillz.

So going back to my lovely analogy. I'm the BLANK and there's good reason why I'm struggling to fill it in. The problem with the label "content strategist" is that it implies strategy only, not execution. Something like "copywriter" implies the opposite (production without high-level architecture). I do both. I love both.

I'm more than a content cow, but less than a strategic saint.

In his book, Monteiro uses the phrase "information designer" (he rails against the label "information architect") which I like better than "content strategist" because anyone who understand what real design is understands that strategic thought drives what ultimately "looks pretty." I'm not a super big fan of "information," however, because it implies pure fact and structure without the seriously important nuance of tone and feelings in addition to downright useful information.

Then again, here's another confession: I don't like the word "content."

I was so relieved at BarCamp Philly this year when one of the speakers, David Dylan Thomas, said as much during a session. My beef with the word is that it's a catch-all and I almost always prefer to be specific with my word choices. (Related: I also hate the word "specialist" for the same reason.) But, as he pointed out, it seems to be a necessary evil for now.

So if I need to stick with "content" to avoid pigeonholing myself and the word "designer" accomplishes what I intend from the strategy-execution combo perspective, should I call myself a "content designer"? Somehow it doesn't feel quite right. It feels like I should know how to use Photoshop better.

I really want to know what other people think. If you're like me, what do you call yourself and are you satisfied with that label? If you're a designer, how do you feel about me calling myself a designer of words? I know what I can do matters more than what I'm called, but as a lover of words, I want to find the right ones to convey my meaning!