Author: Fatou Ndiaye

In a world in which academia constrains us to tiny rooms and desks, the Digital Humanities breaks doors, windows, and even walls. It allows a multifaceted approach to knowledge, challenging the conventional definitions of what is scholarship.

Just as there is no set definition for what a house entails, digital humanities has a similarly arbitrary definition. Encompassing the broad spectrum of humanities through the use of digital tools, the rest of digital humanities has no rules. Your digital humanities project could be anything, from a small shelter in the woods to a castle in the sky. Anyone who says otherwise is pretending to be a part of a HOA that doesn’t exist.

Unlike in an HOA, there are no regulations as to what a house, or a project, should look like which allows for a uniqueness that is not seen in other areas. DH, in this sense, acts more like a series of snowflakes on a roof, no project is ever the same but they are all present in the same location: the Internet. This omni-present location may not exist in a tangible sense (unless you’re looking at the physical servers), but it does allow for the opportunity of these projects to become real. It’s like taking a blueprint for a house, reimagining it in your own style, and putting the house up. Digital Humanities projects are as tailored to the creator as houses are to the homeowner. Even if a house has the same layout, it does not mean that the interior or even the exterior will be decorated or modeled in the same way. This can be said for Digital Humanities as well, you could be using the same website builders (ArcGIS, WordPress, etc.) as another person, maybe even the same theme, but there will never be a project like yours.

Houses are always going to be works in progress. There is so much you can do to improve your house over time: remodeling the kitchen; paving a driveway; and inserting a patio. Each improvement increases the value of your house. Digital humanities projects, like houses, are investment pieces that can be built upon over time. Eventually, when you may wish to move out of your house, you leave behind your unfinished investment that the next person can improve upon. Even if you don’t find a buyer, your house will still remain in some form for years–perhaps decades, maybe even centuries. Digital humanities may not last for as long, but there will still be something left when people are no longer working to improve.

And sometimes the house will burn down and crumble into many pieces, leaving us the task of recalculating our routes and restarting all over again. Fortunately, we never build houses alone in this neighborhood, collaboration allows us to create houses, logs, penthouses, and even castles. Each project is part of a larger web of ideas, methods and perspectives. Unlike in academia and HOAs, DH allows for the breaking of boundaries and the integration of several disciplines. This means there are no perfect white picket fences in DH. There are no equal separations of plots of land or staying in your yard to avoid your neighbors, DH does not work without collaboration afterall. If there were white picket fences in DH, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun due to the options to create a project of what you want to do rather than abide by rules and regulations. The fences become a metaphor for everything DH is against, whether it be by not showing what’s going on behind the scenes to anyone, keeping collaborators out, or attempting to create a one style fits all for different projects.

There may not be a Homeowner’s Association in the digital humanities, but we still follow the law. Hence, no murder.

Koelker, Aaron. Green Oranges & Land: Challenges and Change in Florida Citrus. ArcGIS Story Maps. Esri. 2023. https://storymaps.arcgis.com/collections/68ba1955f063424884fc7c77dea8480e?item=5

“Green Oranges & Land: Challenges and Change in Florida Citrus” by Aaron Koelker uses ArcGIS Story Maps to explore the history of Florida through its oranges trees. The six sections of the project address the levels of orange manufacture in different regions; the effect of freezings, hurricanes, and extreme weather events; and the challenges behind citrus production. 

“Green Oranges & Land” sees in Digital Humanities an opportunity to intersect history, meteorology, environmental studies, and geography by using oranges to expand the story of Florida itself. DH allows a multifaceted view of the topic, without overwhelming the reader. The project is packed with content, but the clever use of different visualizations makes each piece meaningful while still connected to a central theme.

However, interestingly enough, the first data visualization of the project is a static image: a timeline displaying the main freezes throughout Florida’s orange production history. At this moment, it is important to highlight what might be the greatest strength of this project: its design. 

“Green Oranges & Land” is a prime example of how design is fundamental to the Digital Humanities. In the ongoing debate of functionality vs. appearance, this project shows that being pretty is being functional. The cohesive design allows static images to disguise themselves as seemingly complex data visualizations. Small details such as the little oranges as separators between sections make this project user-friendly.

The customization is also seen in other visualizations, such as the map of cities, towns, and neighborhoods with orange/citrus on the name, using oranges instead of pins to mark places on the map.

Further exploring the data visualizations in this project, another highlight is the map under the Tropical Weather section displaying the hurricane paths and their effects on orange production. The seamless transitions between the slides on the map, create the sensation of motion, which is fundamental to conveying the paths of the hurricanes.

However, “Green Oranges & Land” does not escape the ArcGIS curse: infinite scroll. 

Even though the project uses headers as a way to break down the text and direct the user to a specific section, it still feels tiring to read towards the end. As someone who is definitely biased in favor of this project, I was hoping to use the mobile version of the website to justify the infinite scroll, but unfortunately, some of the visualizations were not responsive. 

Overall, “Green Oranges & Land” showcases the originality of DH as a medium for storytelling. It blends multiple disciplines into a cohesive narrative through innovative design and visualization techniques. Furthermore, it demonstrates that thoughtful design and functionality are not mutually exclusive but rather complementary in creating an impactful digital humanities project.

The definition of Digital Humanities (DH) by AI states DH as “an interdisciplinary field that integrates computational tools and methods with traditional humanities disciplines”.

As an international student, the word humanity is scary. Coming from a STEM-driven family, for the majority of my life I was indoctrinated to believe that the humanities are merely for appreciation, to make me look cultured at the dinner table. Developing any sort of humanistic work would sentence me to a life of unfulfillment and financial instability. 

Mathematical Economics was my compromise. I have always been fascinated by statistics and data analysis, and it sounds mouthful enough to satisfy the STEM freaks that I call family. I was fortunate enough to fall in love with the field, but I always had a true passion: policy & politics. 

My best, most honest, and raw work was produced in the context of policy. Watching the complicated balance between people, power, processes, society, and beliefs evolve with the rise of new technology fuels me to constantly learn and stay updated on what is happening in my surroundings, locally, regionally, and even globally. 

This first week felt like a deja vu of my Introduction to Public Policy class in a very particular way. Thinking about UX Design immediately transported me to my class about stakeholder analysis and adapting to different needs and expectations; project management made me think about policy implementation; even our introductory section, about failure, collaboration, building castles and logs sounded familiar. 

The common trait between policy and DH is people. Is made by people, for people. Regardless of whether it is a computer or a bill in between, my view of the Digital Humanities is extremely rooted in people. Just as policymaking, DH is born from a need. The need for accessibility of information in a digital era. I could send 1000 thesis to my grandmother in Senegal, she would probably not get past line 3, but sending her a link with a map, videos, and pictures would resonate with her, even though she does not speak a word of English.

DH becomes a language itself, challenging me to display knowledge in different, more creative ways. Reflecting upon my project itself, bringing a Digital Humanities context to electoral policy allowed me to view the same events from angles that I did not even know existed. I was able to draw connections between policies in different countries, and their effect on the democratic process, even creating my own metadata with symbols on a whiteboard. 

In the following weeks, I look forward to expanding my own interpretations of Digital Humanities, thinking more about how the values of DH apply to not only my project but also my experience as a fellow. I hope that through openness, collaboration, and experimentation I am able to encompass a wider range of perspectives and stories, using different forms of data visualization to craft narratives that highlight the human stories behind the headlines. 

While my STEM-driven family fostered in me a respect for data, analysis, and empirical rigor, DH is an opportunity to expand my perspectives, showing the value of human-centered approaches to technology and information.