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TRANSCRIPT
Crystal Stuvland
Professor Sherry Linkon
Capstone Independent Study
March 2017
INTRODUCTION
Women/Trans/Femme (WTF) Spokefolk DC began forming in the summer of
2016. I am a bicycle mechanic and many of my friends—mostly queer women and trans
folks—had been asking me to teach them some basic bike maintenance. They did not feel
comfortable taking classes in male-dominated spaces but were also uncomfortable in
women-only bike spaces in groups of straight, cisgender women who may misgender
them or treat them as an outsider. So I emailed some people I knew from a nearby bike
coop to get some equipment and volunteers and created a Facebook event. The event was
called “Backyard Basics” because I put it on in my backyard. It was only open to women
and trans folks, not cisgender men. It went so well that people wanted more, so I created
a Facebook group page by the same name and we met two or three times throughout the
summer.
About a month later, while reading rhetorical theory for class, I realized that what
I was doing was a project in public rhetoric and one that I could expand, study, and learn
from. Since that realization, I’ve focused on having regular meetings and studying the
rhetorical context of the group’s emergence.
While the end result of my capstone project is going to be a public-facing website
complete with maps, videos, history, and resources for people to get involved, much of
the rhetorical work I have done will not be showcased there. From the time that I put on
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the first workshop, I was doing rhetoric. I recognized an issue within bike culture and
found a gap that I could fill. Plus, with women/trans/femme workshops and bike clubs
forming throughout the US in the last few years, I was recognizing a kairotic moment and
organizing people around a common cause. And, throughout the process, I discovered a
space rich with rhetorical choices and strategies—and one that was centered around the
empowerment of women, trans, and femme folks through a communal education in
rhetorical agency.
To understand the theoretical underpinnings of my capstone, I first delve into
studying and thinking about it in the context of public sphere theory—theory that has
proven helpful in Spokefolk’s self-definition and purpose. From there I move on to look
at some examples of similar projects in public rhetoric, community engagement, and
activism—aligning my group with similar projects while also recognizing what makes it
different. I move from there to a more specific look at rhetorical agency in terms of the
technology of the bicycle, borrowing heavily from a one scholar and her recent book. All
of this is important background, which then allows me to build and explain the methods
I’ve used both in creating and maintaining this group and in struggling to create a website
that could stand alone and do its own rhetorical work.
BACKGROUND
The Public Sphere and Counterpublics
Habermas’ idea of the liberal bourgeois public sphere has been subject to much
critique. Nancy Fraser, Michael Warner, Rita Felski, and Gerard Hauser have all pushed
for a conception of multiple publics over Habermas’ single public sphere. These multiple
publics can also be what Fraser calls subaltern counterpublics— “parallel discourse
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arenas where members of subordinated social groups invent and circulate
counterdiscourses” (67). Fraser says these counterpublics function in two different ways:
as “spaces of withdrawal and regroupment” and as “training grounds for agitational
activities directed toward wider publics” (68). Warner, however, criticizes Fraser’s
description of what these counterpublics do as basically “Habermas’ rational-critical
publics” but “with the word ‘oppositional’ inserted” (118). He suggests that certain
groups such as “U.S. Christian fundamentalism,” “youth culture,” or “artistic
bohemianism” could potentially also fit into Fraser’s description of subaltern
counterpublics because they are oppositional to other publics. But do counterpublics
simply exist as such because they say they are against a dominant public, then? Warner
says no, that “A counterpublic maintains at some level, conscious or not, an awareness of
its subordinate status” (119). So members of “youth culture” for example might be
“subaltern” but not a counterpublic. Then, what about this “counter?”
Robert Asen and Daniel C. Brouwer take up this question of where to locate the
“counter” in counterpublics in their introduction to Counterpublics and the State. They
suggest that what makes these counterpublics “counter” is “the identity of the persons
who articulate oppositional discourse,” (8) but then they reevaluate this claim and say
that to focus on identity would “overlook these peoples’ mundane or hegemonically
complicit activities” (9). After a few other attempts at locating the “counter,” Asen and
Brouwer suggest that there are too many different definitions of “counter” and of
“public” and they can form in different ways and become different things. I agree that
“counterpublic” can mean different things in different contexts, but Warner’s definition
and distinction between “subaltern” and “counterpublic” makes a lot of sense, especially
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in relation to WTF Spokefolk—which I think is a counterpublic because of its
relationship to the public of bike culture at large and even its relationship with other
groups like Women & Bicycles. For the purposes of this paper, I’ll be relying on
Warner’s distinction between subaltern and counterpublic because it matches with what
I’ve observed. Members of Spokefolk have joined it with—and often because—of an
awareness of their status as subordinate in bike spaces and bike culture. Bike culture is
probably a counterpublic also because it stands in opposition and is usually subordinate
to what we might call “car culture,” but which is actually part of a larger dominate public.
These nested counterpublics recall Gerard Hauser’s idea of a rhetorical, reticulate public
sphere (57-81)—or the metaphor of the network or rhizome that Asen and Brouwer
suggest in the introduction to their more recent book, Public Modalities (1-23).
So what does this mean in terms of studying WTF Spokefolk DC? Thinking of
Spokefolk as a counterpublic not only gives us a way of self-identifying, but it also
means that how we operate as a training ground for instilling rhetorical agency is a
valuable project in public rhetoric.
Projects in Public Rhetoric
The connection I made between public rhetoric and the forming of WTF
Spokefolk is no doubt indebted to the tradition within rhetoric and composition of
engaging with social concerns and doing so, increasingly, outside of the classroom and
the campus and in local publics (Alexander and Jarratt, Flower, Sheridan et al.). In the
last few decades, the work of ethnography and community literacy studies has gotten a
lot more attention—combining the social and public turns in a way that expands the field.
More recently, in The Public Work of Rhetoric, scholars John Ackerman and David
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Coogan argue, “rhetoric can also benefit from community partnerships premised on a
negotiated search for the common good—from a collective labor to shape the future
through rhetoric in ways that are mutually empowering and socially responsible” (2).
Their book contains many examples of these partnerships. Additionally, Jonathan
Alexander and Susan Jarratt pick up on Ackerman and Coogan’s work in their essay
“Rhetorical Education and Student Activism,” claiming that Ackerman and Coogan’s
argument for “doing rhetoric ‘out there’” as giving rhetoricians “‘a more grounded
conception of public need’” applies to activism as well (527). While all public rhetoric is
not activism, Alexander and Jarratt’s investigation into the rhetorical education of a
group of student activists does give us some insight into the ways students educate
themselves and each other through activism in extracurricular ways.
Another book that makes this move to connect with local publics—in what could
also be considered a form of activism—is Linda Flower’s Community Literacy and the
Rhetoric of Public Engagement. In it, Flower details her experiences working with the
Community Literacy Center (CLC)—a partnership between a local nonprofit and
Carnegie Melon University— and her attempts to define and redefine ideas of community
literacy, rhetorical engagement, intercultural inquiry, rhetorical agency and situated
knowledge, among others. These concepts are developed and enriched through her
experience at the CLC in a way that could not have happened inside academe.
What’s interesting about all of these accounts, however, is not just their focus
beyond the university, but that they detail the public rhetorical education of groups of
(usually marginalized) others. In the textbook, Fieldworking: Reading and Writing
Research, authors Bonnie Stone Sunstein and Elizabeth Chiseri-Strater detail the process
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of doing ethnography and discuss the differences between writing from an outsider’s
perspective versus an insider’s perspective. They use the anthropologic terms “emic” and
“etic” to refer to insider and outsider respectively and say that it’s important for an
ethnographer to have both perspectives (14). While public rhetoric is not only concerned
with ethnography, my perspective as an insider in this counterpublic gives me a way of
looking at it that other approaches might lack. I’m not merely going into a marginalized
community and trying to help them by offering my rhetorical skills—I’m taking the skills
I’ve learned in graduate school and applying them to a public I’m already active in and
therefore making an argument not just for a public rhetoric and rhetorical education, but
for a personal connection with it. Still, as Flower explains, “one uses the role of student,
mentor, teacher, research, or activist to move beyond the academy and form working
relationships across differences of race, class, culture, gender, age, status or discourse”
(3). While I’m part of some of the same marginalized groups as other Spokefolk, I’m not
a part of others—and to make it successful, I’ve got to rhetorically engage with these
others, which is something that I’ve struggled with from the beginning. I’ve been aware
of the fact that most of the people in the group are white and many are gender normative,
and yet our goal is to be welcoming to people of color and trans or gender non
conforming folks—as well as people who may not be able to afford a bicycle. One way
I’ve tried to deal with this is by opening up the group more and more—trying to make
sure the places we hand out fliers are just the gentrified coffee shops and making sure to
have meetups in different locations. I’ve had to relinquish some control and give
everyone a space for voicing what they would like to see the group do. It is also
important to acknowledge, however, that my insider perspective of the group is a
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potential conflict of interests that could make it harder for me to address either a larger
cycling public or other counterpublics.
Technofeminist Rhetorical Agency
This project is also a project in feminist rhetoric—I’m deliberately focusing on a
group that is marginalized because of gender and giving it a voice in contemporary
scholarship—and a project in the rhetoric of technology because of the group’s focus on
bicycles. In her book, Claiming the Bicycle: Women, Rhetoric, and Technology in
Ninetheenth Century America, Sarah Hallenbeck joins the voices of many feminist
scholars in rhetorical historiography to call attention to the communication strategies
used by women in scientific and/or technological activities—which she says is lacking.
Hallenbeck explains that by detailing the many ways women used rhetoric to influence
the design of the early bicycle, she’s “complicating dominant assumptions about
women’s historic lack of access to or participation in technological innovation” (xiv).
This complication of dominant assumptions is something I’m doing in a more
contemporary fashion by looking at what is going on within my own counterpublic.
While Spokefolk members are not directly influencing the design of the bicycle, we are
becoming attuned to what Hallenbeck calls “the material and symbolic shape” (172) that
the bicycle can take. We do this by educating each other in bicycle knowledge—
mechanical and social—swapping terminology, techniques, and stories about our
experiences as people who are not the typical cis-male cyclist. We empower each other to
be able to ask questions like, “What makes this a women’s-specific bike?” and “What
gender norms are being enforced by this design?”
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In her conclusion, Hallenback argues that while “exciting feminist user
engagement is obviously well under way, feminist rhetoricians […] might play a role in
making this work more visible and self-conscious” and that they might do this by
promoting “a technofeminist rhetorical agency” (172). She describes a technofeminist
rhetorical agent as someone who rejects the idea that technology comes to her in any
“fixed” or complete form that is out of her control and instead understands that her
interactions with technology can and will change it. This technofeminist rhetorical agent
also “understands her interactions with technology as helping maintain, complicate, or
contest dominant social norms, gendered and otherwise” (172). Last, Hallenbeck’s agent
is a “tinkerer” who has agency as a user of technology. She argues that “when we do not
think of ourselves as potential innovators of the mundane objects with which we interact,
we become complicit in the maintenance of hegemonic power relations, gendered and
otherwise” (174). By adapting a DYI attitude toward bicycle maintenance alongside a
commitment to combating sexism and unhealthy gender dynamics in bike culture and
spaces, this is exactly what we do as WTF Spokefolk of DC.
METHODS
Without my knowledge of it, the methods I’ve used in creating Spokefolk and in
working on this capstone project seem to have been influenced by an understanding of
rhetoric that has gained traction in the last ten years or so. This occurred to me after
reading “The Work of Rhetoric in the Common Places,” in which Jeff Graybill calls for a
rhetorical methodology that “facilitates the practice of rhetoric” (247). His piece is
concerned with rhetorical work or “doing rhetoric” and he only considers ideas to be
“rhetorical ideas” when they “result in methods and practice” (257). This focus on
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practice is in keeping with the tradition of rhetoric as an art and performance rather than a
theory of interpretation and provides my project with a lens through which to work. He
offers new rhetorical “devices” (instead of ideas) instead of the old ideas of invention,
arrangement, etc. These devices are: detection, rendering, assembly, calculation, and
communication and can be used in any order or all at once or be circled back to. (257).
Detection
Grabill says “the devices of detection are research and inquiry methods” and that they are
“focused on identifying shared concerns and people and things in relation to those
concerns” (258). After my initial backyard workshop, I spent many hours on the internet,
researching local bike clubs, workshops, coops, and stores. I also researched women and
trans or women, trans, and femme cycling clubs nationally and internationally—noting
the many shared concerns, people, and things that emerged. What my friends had initially
been telling me seemed to be true—there wasn’t a very good space for queer women and
trans folks to get together and build community in DC, but it was happening in other
places to a certain degree. However, even on a national scale most of the
women/trans/femme events are just workshops hosted by a bicycle coop or a riding club.
There are no other groups that I’m aware of that are committed to teaching each other
mechanical knowledge as well as having other social activities and rides. So the
rhetorical problem that I had first intuited was in fact backed up by my research.
Assembly
Grabill also says he is “focused on people and problems” (256) and argues that
“The work of rhetoric is to assemble a group or a public around a matter of concern and
to care for that assembly” (258). Months after I began Spokefolk, I read that line from
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Grabill and realized that that was exactly what my project was about: assembling a we
and caring for it. The audience or in this case participants in Spokefolk was already out
there and could arguably already be a part of a WTF subaltern counterpublic, but I found
a way to unite them around this common experience of cycling and gender and therefore
helped them discover their own rhetorical agency as a group. Because, as Grabill says,
“without groups, there is no rhetorical agency” (258). And, while Grabill’s assembly is
most directly related to my assembling of the WTF Spokefolk, the same concept applies
to my assembling of an audience for my website—of course people who are outside of
my ideal audience (both in Spokefolk and for the website) may still encounter it and
appreciate it (or not), but I’ve assembled a we and am caring for it by continually
reinforcing the experiences of that “we.” Some of the different methods I’ve used for
assembling my “we” have been to vary the types of events we have. They are not all
classes or workshops—there are happy hours and crafts nights as well as an upcoming
storytelling night, which brings me to the next device I’m using.
Rendering
According to Grabill, “rhetoric must make accounts, and we do so by following
activity and the people and things associated with that activity. One of the primary
responsibilities of a rhetorician in any assembly is to render accounts” (258). One of the
goals of my website is to tell the stories of WTF cyclists through video interviews and
I’m trying to do so in a way that is basically following their activities and associations
and drawing it all together. The interviews are rendering individual accounts of course,
but I’m also tying these accounts together in a larger narrative—thus rendering a group
account of what it means to be a WTF cyclist in DC or maybe elsewhere.
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Calculation
Grabill’s device of calculation is about knowing “if our rhetorical work has impact,
value, oomph” (258). He says we need to calculate if our problem or issue really exists,
whether we have an actual assembly and if it’s doing the work we want it to do. Based on
feedback from people in my group and outside of it, as well as the research I mentioned
under “detection,” I’m pretty sure that this issue is in fact an issue. The way I’m
calculating it is both data-driven (charts showing percentages of women’s cycling events
versus women/trans/femme events) as well as through rendering. In terms of measuring
my assembly, other than keeping track of attendance at our events, I’ve interviewed
people with very different cycling backgrounds about the group—to try and determine
whether we are really instilling any sort of rhetorical agency in them or not. So far, I
haven’t spoken with enough people to be able to tell, but I’ve observed higher levels in
confidence of those people who’ve continued to come to our events. Additionally, in
terms of the website I’m building, it will be hard to measure the rhetorical velocity it has.
Will people who view it end up joining one of the groups I mention? Will they ride their
bikes more? Will they start their own group? These are not things I can calculate—
making this device perhaps the most difficult of the bunch in terms of my project.
Communication
This is the vaguest device that Grabill mentions and he never really does define it
exactly, but says that all the other devices need it in some way. And he is right, of course.
How I communicate with my group is part of how I assemble them (us), how I render
their stories, etc. Perhaps the most difficult communication task I have, however,
involves the rhetorical choices I make in designing my website. How can I communicate
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to such a wide audience the importance of groups like Spokefolk? Different people need
to be convinced in different ways—how can I communicate in a way that will have some
sort of universal appeal while also specifically targeting women, trans, and femme folks
as well as cyclists? What I’m focusing on doing is having such a variety of media and
subtle and not so subtle arguments that while not everything will convince every viewer,
there will be something to convince everyone.
Questions:
Do I need to more fully detail the development of my group and the decisions I made?
Should I include some of my observations and interviews? (They don’t seem that
relevant, but maybe they are?). Is all of this background relevant and necessary? Do I
need more about my website and decisions there? Do I need something about who I’m
interviewing and why, for example? Like, how much should I take the time to explain my
website versus talk about the theories behind it? Does this type of paper need a thesis?
What is my thesis?!
CONCLUSION
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Works Cited
Ackerman, John M., and Coogan, David J., eds. “Introduction: The Space to Work in
Public Life.” The Public Work of Rhetoric: Citizen-Scholars and Civic
Engagement. Columbia, University of South Carolina Press, 2013.
Alexander, Jonathan and Susan Jarratt. “Rhetorical Education and Student Activism.”
College English vol. 76, number 6, July 2014, pp. 525-44.
Asen, Robert, and Daniel C. Brouwer. “Introduction,” Public Modalities: Rhetoric,
Culture, Media, and the Shape of Public Life, University of Alabama Press,
Tuscaloosa, 2010.
Asen, Robert, and Daniel C. Brouwer. “Introduction.” Counterpublics and the State.
Albany, State University of New York Press, 2001.
Sunstein, Bonnie S., and Elizabeth Chiseri-Strater. Fieldworking: Reading and Writing
Research. Boston, Bedford/St. Martins, 2012.
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Flower, Linda. Community Literacy and the Rhetoric of Public Engagement. Southern
Illinois University Press, Carbondale, 2008.
Fraser, Nancy. “Rethinking the Public Sphere: A Contribution to the Critique of
Existing Democracy.” Social Text, no. 25/26, 1990, pp. 56–80.
doi:10.2307/466240.
Hauser, Gerard A. Vernacular Voices: The Rhetoric of Publics and Public Spheres,
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Grabill, Jeff. “The Work of Rhetoric in the Common Places: An Essay on Rhetorical
Methodology.” JAC: A Journal of Composition Theory. no. 34(1-2), 2014, pp. 247-267.
Hallenbeck, Sarah. Claiming the Bicycle: Women, Rhetoric, and Technology in
Nineteenth-Century America. Carbondale, IL, Southern Illinois University Press,
2016.
Sheridan, David M. et al. “Kairos and the Public Sphere.” The Available Means of
Persuasion: Mapping a Theory and Pedagogy of Multimodal Public Rhetoric.
Anderson, SC, Parlor Press, 2012.
Sheridan, David M. et al. “Introduction.” The Available Means of
Persuasion: Mapping a Theory and Pedagogy of Multimodal Public Rhetoric.
Anderson, SC, Parlor Press, 2012.
Szczepanski, Carolyn. “More Men, Fewer Women Riding?” League of American
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Warner, Michael. Publics and Counterpublics. New York, Zone Books, 2002.
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