My blog feed runs on Facebook, where occasionally, my entries generate more comments than they do here on the actual blog.
Such was the case with my followup blog entry about Facebook marking its 500 millionth user by launching Facebook Stories. The entry generated a lively discussion on Facebook among me, Terrence Gargiulo, and Sean Buvala.
Terrence first wanted to know: “Do these read as stories? How would you characterize the range of ‘story responses?’”
My response:
Well, I think they present the same problem as the 6-word stories. These Facebook Stories are limited to 420 characters. So, my answer to your first question is “Some of them, yes.” The important thing though, I think, is that Facebook chooses to mark its 500 millionth user with some form of stories.
To which, Terrence said:
I agree. I think its wonderful that Facebook is inviting stories. Perfect … and there are endless trails of interesting events, occurrences, connections, relationship healing, etc… What got me excited is this is a huge amount of story data collected quickly from a large and diverse population with a clear, powerful trigger, that is resulting in a horde of stories. As aficionados and armchair anthropologists and social scientists, we have one of the best collections. We can see and understand what others think of as story … how they frame them … what they feel comfortable sharing when it’s a wider audience, etc… I’m interested in the richness of the story forms. Categorizing them as stories or not is probably not as useful for generating insights and understanding of how people interact with their innate story capacities and needs.
As you can see by my emphasis, I found Terrence’s point about this rich story-data collection very important. After all, outside of perhaps, Google, on what other site could we encounter so many users and their stories?
At this point Sean had chimed in. He hadn’t yet looked at any of the Facebook Stories, but as a story purist to whom a strict definition of story is important, he speculated, “I bet we will see metaphors, anecdotes and gossip, but not many actual stories.” Later, though, Sean came back and said, “Having looked at few, there are some real story gems in there.” He also agreed with Terrence that Facebook Stories “is indeed a lab. … there are windows of understanding present in all forms of narrative.”
In his initial comment, Terrence had also asked: “Are you aware of which stories pique more interest and why?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, so I asked him to elaborate.
Here’s what he said:
I’m curious to observe in myself and hear from others how certain stories co-mingle with our own experiences of Facebook. What stories am I attracted to? Why am I attracted? What’s the relationship between the strength of my experience and the experience of someone else … how often or does it trump even well-told (more formed) narratives even with the constraints of 420 characters? That’s what was on my mind. Any examples come to mind for yourself?
I took some time to explore Facebook Stories in greater detail. Stories are organized by these themes: causes, celebrities, college, communities, crime fighting, education, family, friendship, government, grief, health, lost and found, love, military, movements, music, natural disasters, parenting, peace, pets, politics, religion, rescues, reunions, small business, sports, support groups, travel, and other. I’m interested in whether the categories were established first, and users submitted stories around the categories — or if the opposite is true — users submitted stories, which naturally fell into these categories. I suspect the latter, which makes Facebook Stories all that much more interesting as social science.
It’s fairly clear which categories are likely to make for the most dramatic, story-like stories — natural disasters, grief, lost and found, rescues. The most heartwarming — family, friendship, love, pets, reunions. To answer Terrence’s question, those are probably the types of stories I’m most attracted to — because I always seek peak emotional experiences. The most humorous categories are — perhaps college and sports? It also strikes me that a fair number of stories on the site are not in English, and you can find a lot of repetition and a lot of non-stories. In most cases, I do not think these stories trump Terrence’s “well-told (more formed) narratives,” although I’m surprised at the emotional power some of these 420-character pieces offer.
Here’s a nice example — definitely a story — that appears in both the Natural-Disaster and Rescue categories:
When the earthquake destroyed Haiti, our girls were saved and taken to safety by a complete stranger that I found on Facebook. These girls were missing for over a month. I had no contact in Haiti and went to work making connections on Facebook with people around the world who were working there. I sent photos via Facebook, and I got a call saying the girls were found. They were sick, alone, hungry but ALIVE!
And a nice one from the Reunions section:
Through Facebook, I reconnected with a brother I hadn’t seen in 28 years and a sister I’d never met. My dad, who had 3 kids from a previous marriage, died in 1979, and I lost touch with my siblings who lived with their mom. I’d been trying to find my brother for years and was considering hiring a private detective. It was wonderful to see him again. He looks like my dad and me. Today we were all reunited.
Terrence had asked about “the relationship between the strength of my experience and the experience of someone else.” I found several stories in which the the strength of my experience matched the experience of others. Indeed, I was tempted to submit one or more Facebook stories but felt far too constrained by the 420-character limit (however, perhaps that limit means Facebook can collect more stories). I could have written about how (rather pathetically), Facebook probably comprises about 95 percent of my social life. I care deeply about Facebook friends I’ve never met. I wept when my husband told me last year that we had far exceeded our Internet data plan, and I would have to curtail Facebook use for a few weeks. I might have written something along the lines of this Facebook note in which I talked about how much my Facebook friendships mean to me (if you’re not on Facebook, you’ll probably have to join to read the note). Or about reconnecting on Facebook with my childhood best friend after 45 years and later having a face-to-face reunion with her. Or about how friends came together to share their grief and celebrate the life of a dear friend who died suddenly and very unexpectedly in May. Or about having been an early adopter (2005) of Facebook so I could use it to connect with my current and former students.
Entry by Kathy Hansen. Learn more.
My inability to learn dance steps has always seemed like a cruel joke of nature, and there’s still a tiny part of me that feels as though I was meant to be a dancer, but my body and brain won’t cooperate. I probably could have confronted my disability; after all, I’ve seen auditions and performances of dancers who are deaf, who are amputees, who have scoliosis. But I didn’t, so it seems unlikely at my advancing age that I will ever be a dancer.
