My Manifesto
Digital media is both a mask and a megaphone. Hiding behind a computer screen is easy, as easy as it is to be discovered. Whether it's a matter of anonymity or freedom, everyone hides. As the internet first emerged, this phenomenon became more and more common. It became a safe haven for historically marginalized voices so that they speak out, when the rest of the world silenced them. Moreover, the internet became a matter of survival. The world becomes safer—safer to experiment and to be honest, in a way that feels exposed when offline.
Specifically, queer voices blossomed on the internet. They were able to separate themselves into two identities: who they were in real life and who they were online. This distinction allowed for a self exploration of internal desires and external expression. Bulletin Board Systems (BBS) were used for and described as an “information source for the transvestite, transsexual, spouse and support professional” (Dame-Griff). I reject the idea that digital spaces are “fake” because real connections, real self discovery, and real movements were created in these digital spaces. BBS were an escape and/or outlet for many people who felt constricted by the societal pressures they felt in public. Ultimately, dismissing these communities and online sphere is to dismiss the history that was created here—history forced online by the real world.
When looking at digital media as a haven, speculations also emerge regarding the safety within the internet. The power of anonymity can be a tool for harm or healing. With the community building also came cybercrime, privacy issues, and harmful content. It is essentially inevitable that any shared space will come with pros and cons, especially with the shield of anonymity. But erasing anonymity would erase the safety that comes with it. This topic is a matter of sacrifice—what some are willing or unwilling to sacrifice. Dame-Griff comments on this issue, writing “Beyond gatekeeping, the BBS’s registration-based architecture meant that users could maintain anonymity via a self-selected handle, which could serve as a whole new mode of self-representation, entirely unrelated to their identity outside the BBS. Name selection has a long history as a practice by trans individuals. For transsexuals, a new name represented a moment of “rebirth,” while members of cross-dressing groups often used self-selected femme names to emphasize the difference between their male and female aspects” (Dame-Griff). For many queer communities, the benefits of a username and a profile picture that doesn’t expose their true identity outweighs the unfortunate aspects of the internet. Sacrificing anonymity is not the answer.
Outside of queer communities, anonymity is a beneficial tool for many. COVID-19 posed many medical and social struggles for humanity as a whole, from 2020-2023. For me, this was at the beginning of my high school career, an already challenging time for many. As online school and Zoom emerged as our navigation tools, being at home all day, everyday, became a routine. At the time I was also struggling with anxiety and depression—conditions only worsened by the isolation of the pandemic. I became used to hiding behind my computer screen. For months, my world was reduced to my parents and brother at home, and the rest of my school through my desktop. As people began to get vaccinated and a hybrid school schedule was introduced, I encountered issues with being seen in public. School felt threatening, and I felt vulnerable without the shield of my computer camera. Furthermore, when the mask mandate was lifted my mental health got worse. I had previously felt vulnerable yet comforted with the help of a mask to protect half of my face. Now, I was fully exposed. Eventually, I made the decision to move back to a virtual school schedule until I felt ready enough to return to in-person school. While the screen sheltered me, I later realized I was simultaneously trapped. Anonymity offered comfort, but deepened my connection with my surroundings that I eventually had to face. This is the issue of digital media: it conceals and reveals.
Digital media is not an escape from the real world, it is an extension of it. It offers safety when being offline cannot provide such. For queer communities, for people like me, it has been more than a tool—it has been a lifeline. What began as a way to hide, became a way to endure. Mask or megaphone, digital media shields and connects us to others and ourselves. Its history and future is one of liberation.