As an em
erging practitioner in higher education faculty development, I’m encouraged to tweet in order to cultivate my digital presence. This phrase, digital presence, it sounds so sleek, so haute couture, and so very 21st century. But why do I need to have a digital presence? Especially when I’m still working on my…what is the opposite of digital…especially when I’m still working on my analogue presence. A quarter past three, roughly or thereabouts. Big hand somewhere, little hand almost somewhere else. But it appears that to be digitally present I need to be pithy and succinct. Eight-oh-seven. I should make clever and witty comments in 140 characters or less, and they need to wow and engage and encourage other, hopefully pithy and succinct digital followers. In my analogue life, I’m messy and verbose. In the Twitterverse, will I be lost in translation? I wonder if I can learn this new discourse. Not just well enough to order a coffee, but well enough to talk about politics and ecology and the revolution. Because really, I just want to have an espresso and talk about the revolution, and hopefully with the bearded Che Guevaras who shine on Twitter with all of their followers. I’ve been peeking in on them, riding the bus silently and I admit, a little fearfully. I hear the proficient buzz of easy pronunciation, but I can’t roll my tongue like that, at least not yet. For now, I’m the awkward tourist, just hoping the bus driver lets me off at the right stop. Because I need an Americano. And a personal edtech revolution. For now, I listen, and I like what I hear. So I’ll give it a try. I’ll tweet. And hopefully somebody follows me off (onto?) the bus.
erging practitioner in higher education faculty development, I’m encouraged to tweet in order to cultivate my digital presence. This phrase, digital presence, it sounds so sleek, so haute couture, and so very 21st century. But why do I need to have a digital presence? Especially when I’m still working on my…what is the opposite of digital…especially when I’m still working on my analogue presence. A quarter past three, roughly or thereabouts. Big hand somewhere, little hand almost somewhere else. But it appears that to be digitally present I need to be pithy and succinct. Eight-oh-seven. I should make clever and witty comments in 140 characters or less, and they need to wow and engage and encourage other, hopefully pithy and succinct digital followers. In my analogue life, I’m messy and verbose. In the Twitterverse, will I be lost in translation? I wonder if I can learn this new discourse. Not just well enough to order a coffee, but well enough to talk about politics and ecology and the revolution. Because really, I just want to have an espresso and talk about the revolution, and hopefully with the bearded Che Guevaras who shine on Twitter with all of their followers. I’ve been peeking in on them, riding the bus silently and I admit, a little fearfully. I hear the proficient buzz of easy pronunciation, but I can’t roll my tongue like that, at least not yet. For now, I’m the awkward tourist, just hoping the bus driver lets me off at the right stop. Because I need an Americano. And a personal edtech revolution. For now, I listen, and I like what I hear. So I’ll give it a try. I’ll tweet. And hopefully somebody follows me off (onto?) the bus. @KMBorto