So I got this comment . . .

[3rdragon]

One of the interesting things about having a public professional blog is the ability/responsibility to screen posts. On the one hand, a part of me says, "The internet should be FREE!" but a wiser and more cynical part of me knows what the unmediated internet can look like, and feels that curation and moderation is entirely appropriate, particularly on the blog that represents me to the world. Being a sensible sort, I listen to that part of myself, and keep the first post screening up.

Of course, this then introduces the question of what to unscreen and what not to unscreen.

It is my blog. At the end of the day, I make the rules, and don't have to account to anyone but myself.

But it's a blog in which I talk about culture, and my experiences of culture, and I think that there's value in being open to other people's cultural norms, particularly in a forum nominally devoted to such, at least sometimes. (And it seems insufferably rude to make sweeping statements about other peoples' culture and then not allow them the chance to respond civilly, whether I agree with their statements or not, though how to respond to comments that are respectful and on-topic but completely contrary to what I believe is an interesting challenge.)

And then there are . . . other comments. Such as this one, which I got on my post about a young white woman's experience as a racial minority:

Friend though I may be a stranger but may be you can kindly connect me to a white lady aged between 17 to 35. I will really appreciate if you will help me. Am just within lusaka . Please if so my email is yudeamusonda@gmail.com am tired of searching but it seems I can't find one.

Did I mention that this was the post in which I talked about how many marriage proposals I got?

This post is clearly unsuitable. My blog is not a dating website, and even if I unscreened it, I think it highly unlikely that he (I think, in this instance, it's safe to assume 'he') will get any takers.

But . . . it wouldn't be unsuitable in Zambia. If I delete it, he won't understand why I deleted his comment, which he made in good faith. It's kind of an excellent example of exactly what I was talking about in the post. Also it amuses me.

(But if I unscreen it, do I then set precedent? Do I feel any obligation to be consistent in what I do and don't allow? I suspect that I do, though not so strongly that I wouldn't feel capable of going against precedent if something became a problem.)

I haven't made up my mind whether to allow it or not, and keep waffling either way. (To be clear, this is on an entry from a year and a half ago, and is not likely to pop up first thing if a prospective employer were to follow the link to my blog. But it's still on my professional blog, even if buried pretty deeply.)

So . . . thoughts? Comments? Opinions?

Comments

[relique.livejournal.com]

What is the point of your blog? I mean, on some level, it's a place to put things that you write. But who is your primary audience? It it first your friends? Possible employers? General people you don't know? I mean, this may change a bit from entry to entry, over time, etc.... Are you trying to get a job? Share your experiences? Change the world?

You have no obligation to be fair, or foster free speech, or anything like that on your blog. Unless that's the point of your blog. You have an obligation (I mean, sort of. I guess. If you have an obligation at all, which is sort of up for debate) to pick an audience, pick a goal or handful of goals for your blog, and then try to figure out how to best accomplish those choices.

[3rdragon]

Those are good questions.

What am I trying to do? Hm.
While I do want a job, this isn't the blog I would be writing if I were writing the blog to try to get a job. (That one would be way less interesting to me, which probably means it would be less interesting to other people, too. Things seem to go like that.)
Share my experiences is closer, I guess. Certainly in Zambia, it was a link to people back in the US, and to my SALT compatriots around the globe. And it still serves some function of keeping people I know abreast of what I'm up to, though that's less important than it used to be. And goodness knows that there are lots of things that happen to me that never make it on the blog (sometime we're hanging out in person, ask me about the other thing that happened on that trip to Mapanza . . .)
Change the world . . . that seems a very large goal. Some of my initial shying-away from it may also have to do with the way women are socialized to not make waves or stick themselves out there . . . but that doesn't mean that there isn't some truth to the statement.

One purpose it certainly serves is personal: I process and transform my experiences by recounting them. It's one of the tools I use to get through appalling and horrifying situations: Just think was a great STORY this will be later! That storyfication, that narrative transformation, can also happen verbally, and sometimes it happens privately in letters, but the time and space of the blog makes it easier than verbal performance, and increased audience makes it more likely to actually happen.

If I were to put my goals into words, they would be: interest, amuse, and educate. I want people to enjoy reading my blog, and I want to make them think. I want to show my friends places and things they've never experienced, and perhaps prize open the worldview of some of my more close-minded relatives, if only a little. I want people to walk away from my entries asking themselves questions, or thinking about something in a slightly different way -- both people I know and random strangers.

One of the central tenets of MCC's work is relationship-based: that the people you meet, the things you learn, the relationships you form are, in the grand scheme of things, probably much more important than any actual work you do. We live in a global world, but we're very good at closing ourselves into boxes and running in our same old hamster wheels. I want to open up windows -- to strangers, to new ideas, to moments of wonder.

I guess I am trying to change the world, at least a little.