The Newest Addition To My Digital Routine

While my own Twitter usage is dwarfed by most of the people whom I follow, I feel that the time I have invested in this tool has already been repaid many times over.  It has become an important part of my digital routine.  In this post, I will explain why.  Ultimately, whether my students make it a part of their own digital routine is secondary to my reasons for this post.  I am not trying to shill for Twitter or TweetDeck, which I will also discuss.  Instead, my intention is to explain why, after years of doubting its benefits, I decided to explore what Twitter had to offer me.  This exploration is the take-away.  The internet is wonderful.  And overwhelming.  What's important is that individuals locate the tools and create a routine to make it a little more comprehensible.  Here we go:

Why Twitter?  To say I asked myself that question often would be a lie.  In fact, I asked myself that question pretty seldom and always answered it in the same way: there's no reason to use it.  Yes, for the last few years I was confident in my belief that Twitter had little to offer me beyond inane chatter.  After all, how could 140 characters provide anything of substance?  Not to mention the language required: #, @, RT--it seemed like every tweet was more a jumble of letters and symbols than a coherent thought.

RT @spundge: Top moments frm ‘What’s So Funny about Innovation’ panel @ #SXSW buff.ly/14JJUu3 feat. @baratunde & @method_inc #sxfunny
— Craig Silverman (@CraigSilverman) March 10, 2013

But my thinking has shifted over the last year in general and in the last few months in particular.  I attribute my changed attitude to three experiences.

• Last spring, I came across an interesting article by Sasha Frere-Jones of The New Yorker.  Frere-Jones listed the benefits of Twitter, and a number of them made sense.  Foremost among his ideas are that Twitter actually "promote[s] long-form nonfiction by circulating a blurb leading to the full text" and that Twitter is quite good at sorting truth from fiction because it "is good at letting facts circulate through argument."  This article alone did not convince me to make Twitter a part of my digital routine, but it was the first piece that made me seriously reconsider my resistance to the tool. 

In fact, I liked the article so much, I decided to make it my first tweet.


Interesting article about this very platform.Good Things About Twitter newyorker.com/online/blogs/s… via @newyorker
— scott glass (@sglass771) March 24, 2012

• While Frere-Jones's article was thought-provoking, attending Educon this past January really drove home why Twitter could be an indispensible resource for my professional life.  As a teacher, I am convinced that an important part of my job is to help students understand how to use the internet and their devices for more than social purposes; they must know how to leverage these tools in their burgeoning professional lives as well.  So it is a bit ironic that my ongoing dismissal of Twitter resulted from my own inability to see this social media tool as more than a platform for socializing.  While at Educon, a trend repeated itself in virtually every conversation I had.  In the middle of a discussion, I would notice people looking at my name tag.  Most people's showed their name, location, and twitter handle.  Mine was missing that last bit of information.  "How should I find you?"  Eventually, my answer to this question was to write down my unused twitter handle, along with a promise to myself that it was time to find out what Twitter could provide for me as an educator.

• Having decided to give Twitter a more concerted effort, I uploaded the extension TweetDeck.   My previous experience with Twitter was characterized by confusion and a general sense of uncertainty: of course important ideas were zipping through the Twittersphere, but how was I to find them?  Tweetdeck helped me organize by providing me with columns dedicated to hashtags that I wanted to follow.  Not only did I find worthwhile links, but the contours of a vibrant educational community materialized: so many individuals and organizations grappling with the same questions as me. It was and continues to be thrilling.

A colleague of mine recently told me what he tells students to ask themselves when they resist a novel or painting or piece of music introduced in class: "How familiar am I with what I am about to reject?"  A great question.  And one that applies to countless situations beyond the aesthetic experience.  In effect, it is the question I was compelled to ask.  And I'm happy I did.