It takes a community to raise a blogger

Leave it to me, the social networker who relies so heavily on her peers to find out what's going on out there, to blow the deadline on an entry about community.

What is community? Well, it's more than just a fantastic show on NBC starring Joel McHale. It's a social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists.

I'm a participating member of a small handful of communities, two in particular: Facebook and Twitter. Of these networks, I'm a participating member of further subcommunities within.

On Twitter, I have my DTC friends, my designer friends and my newspaper friends with whom I communicate -- some of these circles tend to overlap in my little Venn diagram of community.

On Facebook, I'm a part of Mid-Columbia Brides as one of the models, a fan of a couple of bands who I help promote when they come to town, and a follower (and derbier-hopeful) of the Atomic City Roller Derby Girls. Then I have my regular communique with, again, DTC, designer, high school and newspaper friends.

These are not exclusive to the virtual realm. In fact, I would consider these an extension of my "meat space" existence. They act as a way for me to keep in contact (constant or otherwise) with members of these groups when we can't be in a face-to-face environment. Sometimes this is because of schedules; other times it's because of geographical limitations.

If these weren't an extension of my "meat space" (which would make an excellent name for another social networking community), I feel like they wouldn't have as much of an impact on my life as they do now. Specifically, I don't know that I would have a reason to be an active member of these communities without the real-world extensions and implications that they present.

I used to be a member of the virtual World of Warcraft community, with very limited "meat space" interaction with anyone I played with. It was fun, and had some pretty real effects on my life outside of the game, but I began to see that it wasn't a very positive environment for a Care Bear such as myself. It got to the point where I realized that paying $15 each month to be whomped on and made fun of wasn't worth it, especially when, as a young nerdling, I was able to experience that for free in the physical world. (As a poor college student, it also got to the point where it was either WoW or food. And I like to eat. A lot. So my decision to leave a fairly abusive community was an easy one, to say the least.)

I've been a member of various forums online, such as news aggregates and webcomics, but interest waned quickly. I found that I prefer supportive communities, and that it helps to be thick-skinned and quick-witted when dealing with the veil of anonymity -- two things in which I was sorely lacking in my days as a not-so-young nerdling.

One community that I've been wanting to become an active member of, but have settled for trolling on instead, is Jezebel. It's a news blog about sex, gossip, fashion, video games, politics and entertainment with a feminist bend. The men and women who actively comment and argue in the space below stories seem to have formed a tight bond with one another, and I love reading the banter and thoughtful insight that most members have to offer. And everyone seems to come from different backgrounds all around the world, and many have even formed meat-space friendships counterpart to their virtual community, which is awesome for such a huge community. But there's a catch! You have to audition to become a commenter. And if you finally do get past the auditioning process (which, I think, means you have to be approved as a member by several "star commentors") , there seems to be this constant pressure to always be witty or insightful or clever or just plain crap-free. And that's hard to do on a consistent basis! I think I could do it, but sometimes I black out at the keyboard in a fit of feminist rage just *reading* the stories, and when I wake up I have no idea where I am or how many small dogs I've punted or how all these boxes of donuts got into my home. I imagine that, for me, it would be difficult to form a thoughtful coherent comment with all of those donut crumbs clinging so desperately to my face.

More than that, I've observed that while the community of Jezebel tends to be supportive and positive, they take a while to warm up to newcomers, particularly if the newbie's ideas don't mesh 100% with the ideals and aesthetics of the group. Having dealt enough with that in middle and high school, and being beyond all that clique crap on the whole, sometimes it's just easier to play observer instead of being an active participant. (Taking that passive stance is, for the most part, how I managed to survive those seven years.)

And that is a barrier in this community to the greater group of "non-members" that I find in many communities I'm part of or would like to be a part of: the groupthink mentality. It can be really, really hard to gain any ground if even one member of the community isn't hip to your jive. ("Duh, Kristin.") And I think that in a day where everyone can so quickly learn to use the tools provided by platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, Livejournal, WoW and others, it isn't so much a matter of "have vs. have not" or being information literate; it's a matter of being "cool enough," "smart enough," "average enough" or "feminist enough" to be a part of that community.

Virtual community isn't just a place where people with common interests can get together and discuss those shared likes and dislikes; it's that group in the corner whispering behind notebooks and peechees, and you're either in or you're out. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, either; that's just the nature of the beast! It's how it is now, and it's how it has been for as long as there has been a need to declare such a thing as being "distinct in some respect from the larger society."

Same cliques, different medium.