Cecily’s latest post has me feeling all the feels this morning. I’ve talked about this sort of thing before¹. And recent articles about social networking as social surveillance further drive home one of my oft repeated points… that I do as I do on this blog, twitter, etc. because I am human and refuse to be anything less (or more).

Interestingly, I remember the social media class I took in library school where I pointed out that it would be an interesting change of pace for me to get punished for something I said vs. who I am. This is especially ironic given my current legal predicament which is, yes, about something I said but, as I’m learning, this doesn’t mean that is isn’t also about who I am.

I’m not sure whether or not I’m the sort of person who might be perceived as a ‘tall poppy’. It is hard for me to guage as a person who has always been hyper visible to power and peers. From the racist, gendered, and homophobic bullying I experienced as a youth to the racist, gendered, transmisogynist bullying/abuse I experience as an adult, I have always felt visible. Of course, this feeling is reflected by reality because, sadly, I have always been visible. My youth (and much of my adulthood) has been spent longing to be invisible. Longing to fade into the background so I can just quietly live my life. So that I can live. When I think about these concepts of being a tall poppy, of being a ‘rockstar’, I truly can’t understand what they mean. Not on a personal, visceral level².

Of course, given the paradoxes of oppression, I write all this as it is commonplace for my self to be erased in discourse around these topics (and most professional ones, for that matter). I exist not as an individual human being but as a token. As an abstract concept for a lot of people (if I – or people like me – ever even occur to them at all). I exist as a statistic. As one of the approximately 11% of poc in academic librarianship. My humanity is lost in what I represent…

All of this means that everything I do, regardless of intention, means that I stand out. Simply by existing within a massively homogenous profession, I stand out. But it also means that my peers and colleagues are always watching. And I’ll stand out if I ‘conform’ to stereotypical expectations for people like me, if I embody the model minority. I’ll stand out if I fail to live up to this expectation. If I’m too good, forces will endeavor to ensure that I don’t get ideas. If I’m not good enough, punishment will be swift and disproportional.

If I stand here and simply say that my ‘professionalism’ is to exist as a human being, then I’ll eventually be pushed out (my time is coming, I’ve no doubt).

And, yeah, I guess I do want to know where those of us standing in the unflattering spotlight exist within these frameworks. I want to know what we are to do if we are neither tall poppy or rockstar, but still…still so very, very visible. This kind of hypervisibility isn’t a privilege. It doesn’t bring you any advantages. Nor are my comments here an expression of paranoia. I know people are watching. I see it in the expressions of disgust every time I exist in public.

But, c’est la vie.