Ten years of tweeting

 

The other week I was notified that it was my Twitterversary, the anniversary of my having joined Twitter, which happened ten years ago. In the course of that decade, I have been a consistent if not effective user of Twitter, and despite the many problems and flaws of the platform, it has served me very well. For the occasion of my tenth Twitterversary, this blogpost is a brief reflection on how Twitter has helped me as an academic, and how Twitter can be a very useful tool to a young researcher.         

My decision to join Twitter was very much the result of my particular situation in June 2012. This was supposed to have been my final term as an MA student, and my defence should have been sometime in that month if everything had gone according to plan. As it turned out – or rather, as new source material emerged – it became clear that if I were to aim for a high grade, I had to take an extra term to work on my dissertation. The choice was easily made, and it turned out to be a good choice, something to which I might return if I end up writing a post commemorating the ten-year anniversary of my MA degree later this year. However, after two years of immersing myself in medieval history and absorbing a lot of details about various historical sources, I was filled to the brim with information, and also a bit of knowledge, for which I had a very limited audience. There were my fellow MA-students, several of whom were and remain dear and close friends, but since many of them were themselves struggling with their theses, and since some of them also had to take an extra term to finish up their dissertations, it was out of the question to lambast their already-taut concentration with a flurry of minutiae pertaining to my particular work. I briefly taught about Facebook, but because most of the people there were family and friends outside of academia, or at least outside of medieval study, I decided I needed to seek new audiences. The choice fell on Twitter.        

In the beginning I was a very ineffective tweeter. Most of my output was disconnected bits of information, basically just shrieks for attention, but within the first year I got in touch with a some very interesting followers with whom I could share and from whom I could learn about my own field. The medievalist community back then was still very fresh, at least so it felt to me, and the problems of trolling, dogpiling, doxxing and harassment that spring up from time to time, especially from right-wing corners, were not strongly felt, although it would be naïve of me to suggest that it was an innocent time.   

The predominantly constructive tone of the medievalist part of the Twitterverse turned out to be a great boon for me as a young researcher with some vague but strongly felt ambitions. One particular aspect that I treasure to this day was the Twitter account of the medieval section of British Library. While this account, @BLMedieval, is still running and while those who run the account are doing very good work, the two people in charge in these first years of my Twitter membership did an exceptional job in reaching out to people and broadcast their work and their materials. The tweets of the British Library’s medieval team garnered discussions about palaeography and dating, and as a young researcher who had so far only worked from editions and not from the manuscripts themselves, these discussions and threads became a great laboratory in which I could learn, test my growing skills, and be inspired to search out new materials. This was how I learned palaeography, and while my range as a palaeographer is still quite limited, these discussions and threads provided me with an opportunity I would otherwise have had to pay for through summer schools or courses, and this happened at a point in time where I could not pay for these things. My progress was also due to the infinite patience and kindness of established academics who suffered a young, at times arrogant, and often mistaken scholar in his attempts to understand the material. It was thanks to their guidance and expertise that I gathered enough comprehension to read, transcribe and publish an edition of the liturgical office of Saint Edmund Martyr as part of my PhD thesis, for instance. And that same help led me later on to join some of the pioneering work on medieval manuscript fragments conducted at the University of Southern Denmark, work which is still ongoing, and which opened up new avenues for me after my PhD viva.        
After ten years, I still do not claim to have mastered Twitter as an outlet or as a social medium. I am a prolific tweeter, but I have nowhere near the impact of people who use Twitter more effectively, or who garner more interest among followers. But because I write about things that interest me – both within academia and in my personal life – I have managed to build up a community of people with whom I exchange ideas and views, from whom I learn immensely much on a daily basis, and to whom I can share things. This exchange of ideas has been phenomenally useful for me as an academic, especially because I use Twitter in conjunction with this blog. As a consequence, blogging and tweeting comprise a joint laboratory in which I test ideas and get the pleasure of writing for an audience. Sometimes these things I write can turn into academic texts, or they can become part of presentations, or talks. Or, perhaps more importantly, these things I write are left out of future projects because they turn out to be either wrong, insignificant, or useless to develop further. Having that kind of audience with which I can discuss, and by whom I can be guided and inspired, has no doubt made me a better writer, and in general a better communicator. It is also important to note that this community is not solely comprised of academics. One of my principles in writing is to make things as accessible as possible for a widest audience possible. Fortunately, many of those with whom I share this community of letters – and images and memes and gifs and so on – are non-academics who take a great interest in the things I work on, and who very often have valuable knowledge about those things that they pass on to me.           

Having such a community of scholars, academics, non-academics and general enthusiasts has proved important for me as an academic, as well as a person. Friendships have been made, contacts have been established, help has been offered – for instance in the interpretation of a tricky manuscript fragment or a difficult Latin phrase – and opportunities have been given. Because Twitter has enabled me to connect with scholars within my immediate area of expertise, but also beyond it, I have been notified of, and also been approached about, opportunities for speaking or publishing. Four of my published articles, for instance came about because of notifications from, and offers made by, people I know from Twitter. Similarly, interesting research, new publications and job offers have been brought to my attention thanks to this Twitter community that encompasses such a wide range of people. And in the very early days of my academic career, at some of my first conference presentations, friends live-tweeted my talks and helped me reach a broader audience – a kindness I can never properly repay them.   
           
I am still tweeting, and I am still benefitting immensely from this community. Twitter does provide opportunities, but it is also important to note that the benefits of being on Twitter very much depends on the kind of community you are able to build, and with whom you are able to build it. There is no denying that Twitter can be a downright nasty, unwelcoming, even violent place, especially for marginalised groups. Sadly, also within the academic Twittersphere, including the medievalist Twittersphere, the polarising effects of social media have been exacerbated by recent political developments, a brutalisation of the job market, and rising precarity. While I maintain a community of friends and good acquaintances to whom I remain grateful for their interest and feedback, and while I keep meeting new friends and new fellow-travellers, there is also no denying that the nastiness and viciousness of the wider Twittersphere also affects members of this community. I myself am not significant enough to attract much bile, but it is a sobering experience to see masks fall, and to see people reveal themselves as bad players. This is an aspect of Twitter that must not be denied, and that is important to keep in mind as a constant caution, especially to young tweeters, or tweeters from marginalised groups.    

After ten years of tweeting, I have much to be thankful for, and I can point to much in my professional, and also my personal, development that has its root in the Twitter community to which I belong. I still do not know how it came about, and I still have no good advice to offer new members of the Twittersphere, beyond the general advice that always applies for life: Be kind, be generous, and accept no bullshit. This blogpost, therefore, is not about advice, but something akin to a memoir of digital living – an acknowledgement of what this particular social media platform has meant for my development, and a reminder that despite all its shit and all its darkness, there are pockets of good in there, where a person can receive much needed guidance and much needed comradeship, and also a much-needed audience for their bursts of nerdery and enthusiasm. I hope to continue like this for the foreseeable future.           


Post scriptum: The gratitude acknowledged here is directed at many, but especially a few individuals. I have not included their names here as I have not sought their permission to do so. But if you do read this and recognise yourself in my description, know that I am thankful, and that I try to pass on what I received.