The Digital Polyglot

Sepoy’s two part Polyglot Manifesto reminded me of the many readings we had in Clio I which challenged traditional scholarly humanities thinking and pointed the way out from the confines of a brick and mortar mentality. The call to become a “connector” for history springs from that realization that our corner of the humanities may be left behind by younger generations of digital-savvy students and scholars who value the immediacy of on-line knowledge over that of the 5 mile-an-hour world of the dusty, yellowed analog. Although challenged by at least one blog responder who smugly commented “who cares?” boring history in a book will still be boring digitized history, it’s important that we look beyond that myopic view. Digitization expands the circle of communication and casting the net wider means drawing in more researchers, more students, and more scholars. At the very least it creates greater exposure and surely this means that in the game of percentages there’s bound to be someone interested in the content. At the very most it means that greater exposure through digitization invites collaboration which can act as a catalyst to refine that which already exists or serve to create new bodies of scholarship. This is a chance that must be taken, but taken responsibility so that the opportunity is not squandered. Historians must learn the new language not necessarily so that they become absolute masters of the digital realm but rather that they can ensure the veracity of their information through a vehicle that invites interest. Constructing that vehicle -- website or database, requires a certain grasp of the grammar. In a philological sense we must understand the constructs of the digital language to become effective in our task.

 

The variety of readings, books and articles, offered thus far in Clio II serve to provide some of the necessary tools we’ll need to become the competent “connectors” that Sepoy calls us to become. The challenge will be in the effective and deliberate application of the keys, tips, and devices that we accrue. While at the moment I see my project trapped in a Boschian-like world of confusion and misshapen forms I hope to eventually apply my learned skills to bring coalescence to things that will permit my content to speak loudly and clearly in a way that ‘connects’ history to a wider audience.

Comments

[Lynn Price]

I also appreciated the interpretation metaphor that Sepoy employs in this article. Since I began to study history, I’ve learned that each historical moment has its own language. It is also essential to understand that moment in the context of its time. In the same way, Sepoy seems to be arguing that we must also speak the language of the present (i.e. digitization) in order to pass along the value of the past. Without knowing both languages, it would be as though historians are translating English into Spanish, without knowing anything but the very basics of the Spanish language. Historians may view the “sound byte” world of today as a deterioration of scholarship, but without understanding it we have no means to bridge the divide. In addition, without having the adequate knowledge and training to keep up with the present, our vision of the future is blurry at best.

[Rwany Sibaja]

Lynn & John,
This perception that learning web language is akin to Spanish or Russian is apt. Lynn's example is actually very true in signs, pamphlets, and other publications that are translated into Spanish by someone whose Spanish is not there yet. I see it everywhere. The school system I used to work for was about to send a pamphlet on childhood obesity out to Hispanic families and I caught numerous mistakes on the first page. 3 days later, it was actually good enough for print. Why should a school system (of all places) have bad translations for minority families if every child matters?

Ahmed also uses this example: "For it is the repeated experience of those who learn a second language, as it is of those who have always oscillated between their mother tongue and one or more other languages, that the other language sets them free from the confinement of one vocabulary, one semantic system, even one phonetic system..." As someone who grew up with 2 languages, it is free to think in one language to drown out the other (cue a boring sermon or lecture), or to be able to decipher third languages because they either have Germanic or Latin roots to their words.

To be able to oscillate this way between scholarly historical work and digital humanities is exciting. To be able to be fluent in XHTML and CSS? Hopefully I'll have some clue by May.

[Alan S. Brody]

John Lemza has a wonderful take on this issue and well worth quoting in full:

At the very most it means that greater exposure through digitization invites collaboration which can act as a catalyst to refine that which already exists or serve to create new bodies of scholarship. This is a chance that must be taken, but taken responsibility so that the opportunity is not squandered. Historians must learn the new language not necessarily so that they become absolute masters of the digital realm but rather that they can ensure the veracity of their information through a vehicle that invites interest.

If the goal is to produce interesting and original scholarship and be able to have a digital footprint that attracts others, we must re-invent our work in ways that complement or enhance our traditional projects. I think a recipe works the same way, in some cases, we must be exact (bakers know this) and in some cases we are free to experiment. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge Web Design On a Shoestring, its a well done cookbook of recipes for digital content. As many have noted, it can be a costly proposition to enter the digital realm, however, the cost of quality ingredients is no different.