Communication between ‘the little guy’ and either news media or gov’t agencies was once a top-down one-directional flow mediated by editorial boards or official messaging officers existentially motivated to remain relevant, profitable or in office. To retain their viewer or voter base, they affirm and re-affirm the beliefs of the base, beliefs that they themselves shape. Until the rise of social media, we watched the evening news on television in our homes or read the daily newspaper. Perhaps we discussed issues with the family, a selected group of like-minded individuals with similar backgrounds. Social media extend the conversation beyond the walls of the house and give access to alternate interpretations or unreported aspects of a more complete story.
Millennials aren’t just trying to change the world. They’re changing the way social change is made.
No longer relying on mass communication entities to filter information according to an institutional judgment of what we want or need to hear, we can form direct connections with those whom the days’ events impact. Individuals, not institutions are the fabric of social media. Having established these new channels, we can effect change in previously remote domains. Nevertheless, digital marketers, loud-mouths and liars play their harmful roles, just as the analog versions do. Facebook, twitter and the like amplify everyone’s message.
Nothing to see here
Social media expand the pool of individuals who can now be activists. Those who otherwise lack the time or resources can still have a voice. In 2012 #BringBackOurGirls was a nexus of awareness for girls who had been kidnapped by the Boko Haram Islamic militant organization in west Africa. The hashtag exploded awareness and contributions to organizations dedicated to identifying and aiding girls who had been enslaved by the brutal group. One of those entities vested in controlling the narrative, this time governments such as that of Nigeria, have hampered efforts to expose the brutality, in part to save the regime from embarrassment over its inability to oppose militant gangs.
The first time he called me a “fucking bitch” was on our honeymoon.
Jennie Willoughby, from “Why I Stayed”
On the subject of people in crisis, there can be many forms of control, not just physical imprisonment. Through social media, people with difficult life-circumstances in common can find each other like never before. Domestic abuse can cause shame and isolation in the victim, causing hopelessness and a sense of being “trapped.” Social media enable people to connect with others who have experienced what they have. Those strangers’ stories can let them know that they have the power to change their lives, and explain to people outside of that bubble why a person may allow these awful circumstances to persist. Case in point on twitter, #WhyIStayed expertly binds together stories of abuse wile acknowledging that it’s not obvious why abused women don’t just leave. The first line of one hashtagged blog post from a survivor reads, “The first time he called me a ‘fucking bitch’ was on our honeymoon.” Why She Stayed is a question that mystifies many of us. A direct report from a survivor, perhaps an understanding peer, carries the kind of weight and frankness that Thoughts and Prayers seldom do. The connections and stories available via social media can show someone who is suffering that they are not alone, and help “outsiders” achieve greater empathy. This is a ‘dispersed’ social movement, finding individuals where they are, rather than perhaps inspiring an Arab-Spring-style rally in the streets.
