in Digital Web

What It Feels Like (Right Now)

Whack-A-Mole Game

I was talking to a friend at lunch today and lamenting how I still hadn’t written anything about Charlottesville, and the general tension that many Americans are feeling right now. Part of my desire to say very little in writing, was related more to feeling like the nuance necessary wasn’t possible via Twitter or perhaps without knowing where I’m coming from.

A tweet from a friend wondering aloud why so many people felt emboldened to share their political beliefs on social media during this time, is what convinced me to speak up. For days, I’ve come close to writing posts talking about growing up in a de facto segregated school district; being born and raised city that was affected (and still is) by the divestment of cities in the 1960s and 70s.

Part of my voracious appetite for American Studies relies on a need to contextualize how things got to this point. For me, the journey began with simple questions about migration, and trying to understand stories that didn’t get explained in depth during my school years.

The best way I can think to explain how I feel is something like this. America has always felt to me, much like a game of Whack-A-Mole. You just can’t be sure who is going to see you as an actual person, versus some kind of caricature, idea or something else entirely. The exhaustion of having to consistently justify your right to exist in certain spaces surely adds to the complexities of whatever thing I’m attempting.

Even with those constraints, I’ve (mostly) not allowed myself to be impeded by whatever barriers other people impose. I can deal with the present and future, knowing that incremental progress happens and perhaps, future generations will deal with these issues less than I’ve had to, much like I deal with totally different challenges than my forebears. Nonetheless, had I realized sooner that I needed to be more realistic about my options in the face of an industry that would not always see me as the ideal they sought, would have saved me a lot of grief.

I just wonder when will enough? At what point do we concede what’s happened in this country and accept that people deserve a fair opportunity to participate fully in our communities? I

A few weeks ago, I gave a talk in Vancouver at a design conference. One of the things I did, was admonish the attendees to go home and start asking better questions, to figure out what our ethical boundaries are and no longer spend our times creating systems that harm simply because someone else told us to do it. What does that mean? There are thousands of policies, projects and systems that get designed by regular people everyday based on faulty research, incomplete understanding of audiences, and aren’t always designed for the people forced to use them.

For every public utility company that charges people extra to pay on the phone versus on the internet, every city website that doesn’t work for ordinary people, and watching people fumble with UIs that weren’t designed for the wild, means that we’re costing people time and money. In private scenarios, not much can be done, but when we’re dealing directly with the public, there’s a responsibility for someone to ask the question — why? — and to track down a solution.

My frustrations aren’t about politics. It’s about policy. Politicians come and go, policies outlive them. I have no illusions that even successfully fixing policy will end the negativity we’ve seen from top to bottom, but it’ll enable a lot more people to get a fairer shake out of life.