Matthew Kirschenbaum’s “Am I a Digital Humanist? Confessions of a Neoliberal Tool” and Roopika Risam’s “Digital Humanities in Other Contexts” affirms my personal feelings towards and experiences with the digital humanities.
Far from focusing on the supposed corporate devils that were waiting to consume my soul as I practiced the digital humanities, Kirschenbaum and Risam focused on the individuals that make up the DH community. In his piece, Kirschenbaum writes that
“the people most drawn to the early humanities computing centers at UVA were the book nerds. Far from seeing computers as an abandonment or repudiation of books, archives, and the material remains of culture and society, the new technologies were understood to be extensions of those preoccupations.” I can apply this quote to all the people I’ve worked with this summer without hesitance. Everyone at the Musselman Library, or in other DH circles, work to expand the humanities by presenting their passions in a digital space. Not one person has refuted the importance of the physical humanities. Risam also heralds “a digital humanities of the students, by the students, and for the students”, which I have undeniably experienced at Musselman this summer. The library fosters an environment where we, as undergraduate scholars, can immerse ourselves in our projects and work to be mentors to the next future digital humanists. Risam aslo notes that “institutions like [her’s] – whether regional comprehensives like Salem State, access universities, or community colleges – are left out from trenchant critiques of digital humanities” even though they “serve the vast majority of students receiving post-secondary education, often the most diverse groups of students”. In my mind, this quote emphasizes the idea that the digital humanities are for everyone; they are built by diverse and often unrecognized people–not popular and wealthy corporations. Perhaps this concept is best summarized by Kirschenbaum, who writes, “It’s hard to avoid naming names in these paragraphs since the individuals were so much a part of what was happening”. The digital humanities could not thrive or be the robust field it is today without the people who make it up.
In my mind, the number of individuals who contribute to DH and their personal investment in the field cause the impassioned debates surrounding the topic. As Kirschenbaum so eloquently states, “what we do, what we choose to work on and who we choose to work with emerges out of a complex skein of personal history, personally held values, circumstances, encounters, and all the other agents of chance, privilege, and socialization.” Because each person experiences the digital humanities in their own way, and develop projects out out their own passions, it makes sense that people are quick to be defensive of the way their experiences and interpretations. However, as has been repeatedly pointed out, the digital humanities primarily relies on community, and can only exist if people listen to each other and think critically about other people’s stances.
Something that is interesting and emerging is the work of DH practitioners at community colleges and really small regional schools. They really have no money to do extensive programs or have people to support the work of students, but good work is coming out of them, because the programs are so student-centered (because they have to be). It’s fascinating to see what people can do with limited resources when they have passion for the work.