JAMcArthur
Op-Ed & Columns
Town Crier? Village Idiot? We each have role in public space
Town crier? Village idiot? We each have role in public spaceThis column ran in the Charlotte Observer on September 30, 2011 on the opinion/editorial page. The link above will take you to the column on the Observer’s website.
Facebook is changing the face of our private lives. The impending release of Facebook Timeline and Open Graph blurs the lines between private information and public announcements. Some critics suggest that Americans need to realize that all information shared online is public – regardless of the privacy controls we believe we have.
Next time you tweet or update your Facebook status, make a choice about who you want to be in the public space of the Internet. In our global village, are you a town crier, a costermonger, or just the village idiot?
Media theorist Marshall McLuhan suggested fifty years ago that electronics would lead us toward a global village – a world made smaller and more social by rapid advances in communication technologies. Many people believe that we now live in that small, interconnected village of loud citizens who publicize various aspects of our lives.
Sharing ourselves publicly is not a new phenomenon. In Medieval towns and villages, three types of people could often be found yelling in the streets.
The first, the town crier, was responsible for sharing the daily news. He walked the streets ringing a bell, shouting, “Oyez, Oyez!” His responsibility was to make announcements for the court, the government or other organizations considered influential by the people.
The second, the costermonger, was often known as a hawker or street vendor. She could be heard singing advertisements for her goods or trade. Whether selling strawberries, flowers, or clothing, this savvy businessperson used her voice to make a living.
The third was known around town as the village idiot. He ran through the streets making a joke or serving as one. His was the voice of the jester, the merrymaker, the town player or the buffoon.
In towns, there were also citizens. These townspeople weren’t often shouting. Instead they listened, discerning between the voices on their streets. They used their voices sparingly to join in the fun or to talk among themselves – and sometimes shout, if necessary.
In the global village, we give voice to our stories on Twitter and Facebook. We shout on YouTube and peddle our wares on eBay, Etsy, and blogs. We even identify our streets on Foursquare.
Each of us must make a choice about the voice we choose – the role we choose to play in our global village. Like the town crier, we could advance the news of the day. As a costermonger, we might be found practicing our trade. And many of us, like the village idiot, just add to the noise and festivity of our town. All of these voices can benefit the village.
However, the more important role in our global village is the one of citizen. The citizen listens, thinks, evaluates, and then joins in the discussion. My hope is that, like the citizens of the villages of old, each of us can learn to distinguish between the voices of the crier, the costermonger and the idiot. Only then can we become engaged citizens, fully participating in the global village.
John A.McArthur, Ph.D., is an assistant professor and director of undergraduate programs in the Knight School of Communication at Queens University of Charlotte. He can be reached at http://jamcarthur.com
9/11 Remembered in Memorials
This column was featured as "Share Your Own Memory" in today's Greenville News.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was sitting in a classroom on the first day of the term at Furman University. I had just finished the first course of my senior year – “Freedom in the Western Tradition” – and was settling into my second of the day – “Islam.”
The irony of that juxtaposition was not lost on me that morning.
As planes crashed in New York City, Washington, DC and a field in Pennsylvania, I watched and prayed. Two days later, as news was still developing, student leaders at Furman led a prayer vigil for our country. At our opening of school convocation, the Furman community sang a hopeful “America, the Beautiful” in place of the typical rendition of our alma mater.
A decade after 9/11, each of us can remember our feelings of shock, anger, and fear and tell the story of where we were when the news found us. When we take the time to share our stories, we memorialize the event. But the stories of those that perished in the attacks will be forever told through our national memorials.
The Pentagon’s 9/11 memorial was dedicated three years ago. 184 benches, each representing one of the lives lost at the site, jut up from the ground and hover over reflection pools. The benches are arranged along an age line – from the youngest victim aged 3 to the oldest, 71. Each is engraved with the name of the victim for whom it stands.
While facing the Pentagon, visitors see the inscriptions for those that died in the building; whereas the inscriptions for those who died aboard the plane can be read by facing the sky in the direction from which the plane travelled.
The gravel underfoot, the sound of flowing water, and the peeling paperbark maple trees at the site give the sensation that this is a place of memory, different from the area around it.
The memorials at the World Trade Center in New York City and the site of the Flight 93 crash in Shanksville, Pennsylvania will be dedicated this weekend. Like the Pentagon Memorial, the two memorials to be dedicated on this solemn anniversary tell the stories of the lives lost there.
Each memorial is set apart from its surroundings, creating a place for reflection. Each shares the stories of the victims as individuals. And each creates a space designed for national remembrance.
Memorials move us from saying an independent, “I will never forget,” to declaring as a nation, “We will always remember.” They cause us to pause, to contemplate our history, and to share our own stories.
This September 11th, take the time to learn about our three national memorials and the stories of the lives they represent, reflect on the events of these last ten years, and tell your own story of remembrance.
Dr. John A. McArthur is an assistant professor in the Knight School of Communication at Queens University of Charlotte and resides in Greenville, SC. Contact Dr. McArthur at http://jamcarthur.com
