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WHEN THE WEB HAS SOMETHING TO SAY: WHAT A DEEP DIVE INTO THE ARTISTIC COMMUNITIES OF THE INTERNET CAN TEACH US ABOUT EDUCATION
Spring 2020–Summer 2021
Pinpointing the spaces that art occupies can be difficult, and recently, the visibility of public art through the internet has changed how consumers interact with it. While museums still wield influence on modern trends, social media has unleashed the ability for traditionally underrepresented — and critical — voices to rise. The art of marginalized communities holds a political place by default, now appearing unrestrained in public, if not physical, spaces. Art published on social media is powerful in its capacity to engender curated online spaces that uplift those whose identities never used to be at the forefront of established artistic circles. Anti-racist education based on art and taught in communities that lie outside the realm of museums has great potential to combat racism.
While artists who have the privilege of being accepted by the art world have their (sanitized) views consistently served to audiences, as Kobena Mercer wrote, “[a]rtists positioned in the margin of the institutional spaces of cultural production are burdened with the impossible role of speaking as ‘representatives’ in the sense that they are expected to ‘speak for’ the black communities from which they come” (Mercer 62). However, the power that the internet affords is that users can diversify what lands in their feeds, and importantly, marginalized artists can disprove the notion that their work fits any certain model. Though social media has undeniably polluted online discourse for minorities, a few strongholds are left via the passion of moderators, who painstakingly shape and reshape internet communities dedicated to pursuing critical conversations and educating the public. Through shared identity, through literature, through art and over the web, these communities have made no small dent in dismantling oppressive institutions.
One such community is the Noname Book Club, founded in August 2019 by Noname, a rapper-turned-organized hailing from Chicago, in the tradition of African American Literary Societies. According to Gholnecsar Muhammad, the original African American Literary Societies of the 1800s turned the act of reading into an art of community-building, built around a cultural endeavor for self-improvement that would forge Black people’s “literary character” (Muhammad 75). Noname’s Book Club began on her Twitter account before shifting to in-person meetings, and now travels to cities across the United States to discuss the two monthly picks with readers who attend her meet-ups, consistently featuring authors of color and broaching themes of emancipation, enlightenment, and anti-capitalism (Stevenson). Supported by merchandise sales and Patreon memberships, the Book Club has also channeled its energy toward prison education across the United States.
In 2016, a Facebook group called “SAD ASIAN GIRLS” was founded by interdisciplinary designers Esther Fan and Olivia Park, serving as a platform for conversations surrounding the experiences of East Asian women (Banana-mag). Though “SAD ASIAN GIRLS” began as an alias under which Fan and Park shared artwork (and went defunct in 2017) (Ki), the movement grew into a community boasting more than five thousand members. Later on, it was renamed “SAD & ASIAN” to be more inclusive of all Asians as well as of non-cisgender people. At first glance, the group’s rules seem strict: there are certain days on which, for example, only non-East Asians, or only LGBTQ+ members, can post, and language is tightly regulated to avoid ableism and misuse of AAVE, more so than other internet communities. However, these community rules themselves serve as a vehicle for education, as they illuminate often invisible struggles. Discussion of art, but also of activism and current events are abundant, and contribute to this group’s role in combating (mainly) anti-Asian racism. Though of course, cisgender men and non-Asians are not permitted to join, the work accomplished within this creative community is nonetheless felt outside of it as its users navigate the offline world.
Similarly, the Art Hoe Collective was founded in 2015 by then fifteen-year-olds Mars and Jam, with the intent of promoting art made by queer people of color. Though the name initially came off as crude, the “Art Hoe” movement soon zoomed to the forefront of celebrity and artist Instagram feeds alike (Strehlke). The movement was embraced by the likes of Amandla Stenberg and Willow Smith (Frizzell) for its rejection of the traditional art world, both by name and by its method of crowdsourcing and uplifting the art of marginalized makers. Part of its platform also distributes relevant education resources related to activism and intersectionality, and today, the collective maintains a vibrant online art community, and offers grants, support, and resources to emerging artists. Founded with the joint missions of empowerment and education, the Art Hoe Collective thrives as a refuge for those who don’t find it in the mainstream.
In my view, unofficial online groups are essential to the continuation of art and education. Noname has simply moved from one form of art, rapping, to another, imagining what a radical and anti-racist society could look like. Her online community provides respite and resistance for people who are marginalized, and self-reflection for those who are not. Noname has pioneered the next step of social media’s power: not only can Black people share injustices they’ve suffered, but they can also envision a world where these injustices do not exist. The founders of SAD & ASIAN sought to build a creative community by and for non-cis and non-men Asian artists. The Art Hoe Collective propels art made by minority artists into the public eye, and built a movement around their tight-knit yet openhearted community. This form of art is definitely more nebulous, but it is the concept that matters here: the curation of books, the sharing of work, and the creation of safe yet radically challenging spaces. These groups show us that in tandem, social media’s power lies in raising awareness, and art’s power lies in awakening the imagination.
NOTE
A revised and condensed version of this piece was published in February 2024 in the Sage AboutCampus Journal, as part of a project led by Professor Ximena Benavides Reverditto. The article, titled “A Shared Canvas of Discomfort and Reclamation: Addressing Racism Through the Art of Looking,” features the pieces of seven authors discussing the relationship between the arts and anti-racist education. My piece specifically focuses on community-building on the internet via public art and creative, educational online spaces.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Mason, Ernest D. “Black Art and the Configurations of Experience: The Philosophy of the Black Aesthetic,” CLA Journal, September 1983, Vol. 91, No. 1 (September 1983), pp. 1-17. Web. Accessed 19 July 2020.
Mercer, Kobena. “Black Art and the Burden of Representation,” Third Text (1990), 4:10, pp. 61- 78.
Mohammad, Gholnecsar. “The Literacy Development and Practices within African American Literary Societies,” Black History Bulletin, Winter / Spring 2012, Vol. 75, No. 1, Theme: "Taking a Look Back to Broaden the Lens of Literacy" Table of Contents (Winter / Spring 2012), pp. 6-13. Web. Accessed 19 July 2020.
Norman Rockwell Museum. “Emory Douglas,” Illustration History. Web. Accessed 7 July 2020.
Sudbanthad, Pitchaya. “Emory Douglas,” AIGA, September 2008. Web. Accessed 7 July 2020.
Stevenson, Iman. “The Black Book Club Takes It to the Next Level,” The New York Times, 29 July 2020. Web. Accessed 4 August 2020.
Williams, Sherri. “Digital Defense: Black Feminists Resist Violence with Hashtag Activism,” Feminist Media Studies (2015), 15:2, pp. 341-344. Web. Accessed 7 July 2020.