Social Media and Protests

Earlier this year, one of my friends had a dangerous encounter on social media. A picture of one of my Palestinian friends from Hands of Peace this past was posted on a radical pro-Palestinian blog, claiming he was participating in a "normalization" program, citing personal information about him and his family. The Hands of Peace website had to be shut down briefly to protect the privacy of all involved until the incident simmered down.

With the ability to express any opinion with the click of a button, social media has revolutionized the notion of protest. The Arab Spring was the first major instance of online protests, with social media causing a ricochet of pro-democracy and pro-revolution sentiment. This article from the University of Washington states that in Egypt, the number of tweets skyrocketed the week before Hosni Mubarak's election from 2,300 political tweets per day to 230,000. Protest videos went viral, and social media became an easy and effective way of sharing grievance and demonstrating dissent.

A visual representation of the hashtags that appeared this past summer 

 This past summer, I paid particular attention to the Israel-Gaza conflict, also known as "Operation Protective Edge". I was with a group of 40 Palestinian and Israeli kids, and daily we would get news blurbs about what was happening. After a long day of peaceful discussion, kids would go to Facebook and things would suddenly get heated. Simple hashtags such as "#freegaza" and "#prayforisrael" would spark heated debates, with ignorance on every side. Medium did an interesting analysis of social media responses from last summer, creating visual depictions of the overlays of hashtags and political stance of news sources.

An instance that comes to mind is when one anonymous friend of mine, a huge advocator of peace, made a seemingly harmless post saying "I believe in human rights, and I #supportgaza". Yet the post provoked a huge debate of which I witnessed many of my peers partake in. And while the majority of the conversation was civil and intellectually-driven, there were quite a few moments that frightened me. My educated friends were making ignorant claims and blatant generalizations to do anything to advance their point. People were saying things such as:

"When you say that you support Gaza, I assume that you then support the way that they go about things, at least more than you support what Israel does. I may be wrong in that assumption, but to the extent that the English language is reflected in the hashtag, I will assume that."

"Gaza never needed an army since they were never attacked by anybody. This all starts because Gaza has a pseudo military in their terrorist government. Israel would NEVER first strike a weaponless Gaza in a time of peace." 

"That's like saying that special needs students deserve more attention than gifted students because they deserve it more."

Really?!??!?!?!

An image I took from a protest I went to this past summer

Social psychologists say those that protest online are not necessarily inclined to protest offline. Social media is most frequently used to express dissent, but physical protests are for more expressive and less informationally-driven methods of protest. We tend to distance the idea of expressing an opinion online and attending a protest, but in reality the two aren't so different. I went to a protest on the same issue sponsored by Jewish Voice for Peace and Students for Justice in Palestine. This is what I learned:


1. If it gets violent, leave.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me." Or...will they? Throwing stones isn't much different from personally attacking someone. And with a digital footprint, online stones may be even more permanent than throwing literal stones. If you disagree, keep your cool.

2. Do your research.
In the same way that you wouldn't want to be present at a protest that didn't reflect your beliefs, don't engage in an online conversation making claims just to prove a point. In the article from Medium I posted above, I noticed that the repeated phrases were very polarized. It's easy to forget the implication behind words.

3. Pay attention to the people around you.
We tend to think that our statuses, tweets, and pictures are exclusive to us and our friends, and are similar to having a casual conversation. But these statuses are permanent. And who really sees them? I have 794 friends on Facebook. My best friend has 1,349. My best friend's older sister has 2,686. Who are we really sharing our messages with?

Social media has completely altered the way we protest, and in doing so, we need to be cautious of what exactly and how exactly we are protesting.

My Friend Tal

A quick personal story about how one person changed my life.

Meet Tal. She is a sixteen-year-old citizen of Israel, and over the course of the past two summers, she has become my sister.

For the past two summers, we participated in a program called Hands of Peace. (Side note: It's an incredible experience and applications are here!) Hands of Peace consists of face-to-face dialogues with a group of forty American, Palestinian, and Israeli citizens. My family was also volunteering as a host family, so we got to host a girl from Israel. 

Being an only child, I was nervous to live with someone else for three weeks. But Tal and I quickly bonded our first day over episodes of "Grey's Anatomy" and gossip sessions at night. I taught her what deep dish pizza was, she taught me how to say "cake" in Hebrew. We would have sleepovers and bicker over what song we would set as our alarm clock (she selected "Don't Worry, Be Happy" and I, as the anti-morning person, chose "Chacarron Macarron"). We were quickly sisters. 

Saying goodbye

The next summer, I expected things to be the same. But we were right in the heart of the  2014 Israel-Gaza conflict, and tensions were as high as ever. Participants were receiving calls from families saying sirens were going off in their towns. The carefree nights we had the night before were replaced with naps and hushed phone calls behind closed doors.

Tal left a lasting impression on my family. My parents are now very involved with supporting Hands of Peace, and my mom works on the board of directors. The room we set up for her is still just as she left it. My dogs perk up when we mention her name. And my entire world view has been changed by Tal. 

I am lucky to live in a community that is generally supportive of my participation with a program such as Hands of Peace, something my Israeli and Palestinian counterparts don't often experience. For those that I've talked to about Hands of Peace, almost everyone has been intrigued by the program and the stories and experiences I hold. I feel that there is generally a lot of respect surrounding Hands of Peace and its mission, but at the same time I've found a variety of responses regarding whether or not Hands of Peace is actually making a difference.

I've heard people on every end of the spectrum. "Hands of Peace can't solve anything, you're only teenagers." "The Israeli-Palestinian conflict? But you're American." "It sounds fun and all, but don't you all just go back to how you were before the program?" "Yeah, I don't know if I'd do Hands of Peace, it just seems like a waste of time. You can't actually change anything." "The conflict is just too complex."

But what I learned from Tal is that each and every one of us has a voice. We may not face complete support in our communities at home. Some of us may go back to how we were beforehand. We may be Americans, or teenagers, or only one person. But that doesn't mean that we don't have the ability to make a change.

How Improv Helped Me Respond to Change

Over the past three years, I have turned into just about every kitchen utensil. I have held a conversation in Elvish, spent a few minutes as an oompa loompa, developed a personality for a Post-it note, and conducted a few symphonies by playing tennis. For the past three years, I've participated in Comedy Sportz, a competitive comedic improv show in which two teams face off in comedic games.

My team looking fab in baseball pants

Last weekend was the last Comedy Sportz show of my high school career. While I am relieved to not have to wear the baseball team's actual baseball pants any longer, I am going to truly miss everything I gained from Comedy Sportz. I have learned all puns of the words "banana" and "sock" and "lamp". I can name just about every possible answer in the categories "colors" or "movies about magic" or "androgynous names" from playing the games such as Concentration or Left Hand Larry. And how many one-syllable words can I rhyme with the name "Matt" from playing Beastie Rap or Doo Doo Run Run? Probably about thirty.

But most importantly, improv taught me to be flexible. No, not physically flexible (even though it is a sport). It taught me to learn to quickly change respond to the direction of the scene. Improv is all about staying in the moment, adapting to what you are given by your audience and fellow performers. So I offer unto you:

THE BASIC RULES OF IMPROV AND HOW THEY HAVE SAVED MY LIFE OR AT LEAST HELPED ME CONCEPTUALLY REALIZE THAT HOW I HAVE BEEN LIVING MY LIFE IS INEFFICIENT AND COULD BE DONE BETTER

1. "Yes, and"
Saying "no" kills a scene. Saying "yes" lets a scene continue, but adds nothing to the scene. Saying "yes, and..." lets a scene continue and adds a new creative twist to the scene or another variable to work with. In my opinion, this is the best tip in improv. and in life. It not only makes dealing with people more enjoyable, but selfishly, it lets you contribute to a great idea. It also creates room for creative solutions or discussions. For the past two summers, I have participated in Hands of Peace, an organization based in face-to-face discussions about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I found it easier to understand others when I make an effort to follow along and respond to what was being said. Saying "no" or "you're wrong" not only frustrates both parties but doesn't lead to any valuable discussion or change.

2. Make your partner look good
At the end of the day, it doesn't matter if you had a funny line if the rest of the scene went poorly. Improv is all about give-and-take. Additionally, there are no mistakes, only opportunities. It's all in the justification. I am a Peer Group leader, and one of the major things we focus on is the idea of "it's not how high you climb, it's how many people you bring with you". Being a leader is all about synergy and cohesiveness. A dysfunctional environment helps no one, whether that environment is academic or a workspace.

3. Don't ask questions
It is easy to ask "Where am I?" "Who am I?" "What am I doing?" but by verbalizing those questions, I do nothing to initiate movement. Instead of asking "Where Are We Now?", and placing all the responsibility on my partner, I should say: "Look, a yellow brick road! Toto, I think we are in Oz!" It's easy to ask questions, but the challenge really comes with seeking an answer. In actuality, I find asking questions to be an imperative skill. Questions are how knowledge is achieved, and questions are how change is achieved. If no one ever questioned why we have certain ideals, how would there be any social change? But ultimately the basic principle is the same: the questions should be more about what the questions create. Questions would be meaningless if there was never a follow-up to the question. That's part of the reason why this blog exists, it's a way for me to express my questions and explore the various answers of contemporary culture.

If you still think improv is no more than a joke, check out this article by Forbes. The article describes how taking improvisation classes leads to healthier workforce habits and more creative business solutions.

And yes, Comedy Sportz is a sport. I deserve a gym exemption.

Oh! Sweet Nothing

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." Andy Warhol

Clearly, Warhol was not an art conservator.

Earlier this year, Nautilus posted an article titled "Should Science Save Modern Art?" Art conservators work to preserve art in its original form, and chemists have been developing newer, increasingly efficient chemicals to combat the decaying nature of common art materials. But what happens when artists don't want their work to last? The article cites a challenge posed by the minimalist art of Eva Hesse. Minimalist art, art not meant to refer to anything but itself, propelled the usage of non-traditional materials in the 1960s and 1970s. Upon trying to display her 1968 piece "Aught" at the San Francisco Musuem of Modern Art, the head conservator faced a dilemma. She didn't want to alter Hesse's art, but Hesse had intentionally chosen non-traditional materials not meant to transcend the tests of time. Her sculpture "Aught" was built of organic latex, a material quick to decay. According to Hesse, "Life doesn't last, art doesn't last".



A more in depth analysis of Eva Hesse's materials from the art conservator at the SFMOMA.

The Nautilus article raises the interesting question of whether or not art must be permanent. "Great" art is conventionally determined by a piece's timelessness, but must art be permanent to be timeless? And must art be timeless to be great, or is that an outdated notion?

Conceptualism began growing around the early 1920s, and is built on the idea of questioning the nature of art, believing that art is more than the physical manifestation of the artwork. It was the first movement to begin to question the permanence of art. This led to a dematerialization of art, prompting works such as Marcel Duchamp's Fountain and Yves Klein's IKB 79. 

In the 1960s and 1970s, alongside minimalism grew performance art, influenced by the Fluxus and conceptual art movements of the time. Performance art most delineated art from the conventional forms by creating live art, art that had no means of preservation. Klein (above) was a famous early performance artist, questioning materiality in his piece Zone de Sensibilité Picturale Immatérielle. In the 60s Andy Warhol also participated in performance art beginning with his videos with The Velvet Underground.

One of Warhol's most famous performance pieces was in Jørgen Leth's 1982 film 66 Scenes From America. Warhol sits in front of a camera eating a hamburger for a little less than five minutes. Warhol, upon finishing his burger, looks directly at the camera and states "My name is Andy Warhol and I've just finished eating a hamburger".



Warhol's stint in the film is famous, but is that due to the timelessness of the piece or the timelessness of the artists? Warhol was fascinated by fame, claiming that "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes". Everyone gets fifteen minutes, but only a special few get timelessness.


Check out the Department of Conservation at the Museum of Modern Art for more information on how conservation is done and to see videos of current and past projects.

Quoth the Talking Heads, "Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was..."

I was never a coloring book kid. Drawing inside the lines felt like a chore, drawing outside the lines felt like a waste. Instead, I drew my own lines, and never had any boundaries to box me in.

As a teenager, I have been constantly testing the boundaries. If you are or have ever been a teenager, you know what I'm talking about.

As a college applicant, I am trying to figure out what binds me and what I am bound to do. It's a lot of figuring out where I currently am: physically, emotionally, mentally.

My name is Anna. You can call me Anna. I'm currently somewhere between a rock and a hard place. I believe there is a special place in heaven for coffee and bad puns.

In 2010, one of my favorite artists, Dan Perjovschi, premiered an exhibition called "Where Are We Now?" In typical Perjovschi style, this featured a series of doodle-like images drawn on walls, similar to political art of the '60s, offering commentary on the current political and social climate. Perjovschi questions and pushes the boundaries set by our surroundings.

Like Perjovschi, the current state we are in fascinates me. Where exactly are we now, and how did we get here?

In this blog, I'm going to be analyzing how people are pushing boundaries: in the arts, in society, in politics, to ultimately try to answer "Where Are We Now?" I'll be focusing on how the world around us is changing, what we see to be contemporary, and how we got here.

So, are you here?