Tags

, , , ,

When I log in to WordPress.com I see at the top of the page an image like this:

It is a visual representation of the hour-by-hour activity on my blog over the last two days.

If I click on that image it takes me to a detailed account of what has attracted the attention of my readers. There is a bar graph that shows the total hits per day, week, or month, depending on how I choose to organize it. Below that is an account of how people are arriving at my blog. Most click on a link from Facebook. Some find my posts through tags (WordPress.com catalogues its users’ posts according to the descriptive tags that we use to label our writing.) Some stumble upon my blog through a Google search of a subject about which I have written. WordPress also keeps records of how many people click on the various links that I share, the number of comments that I have received, and the number of readers who have subscribed to my blog.

I find it fascinating to observe the daily fluctuation in these statistics – to note what attracts the attention of my readers.  What follows is a breakdown of the subjects I have addressed and their corresponding level of interest, as measured by blog hits:

  • The contents of my spam filter: 24%
  • The success of one particular former student: 14%
  • My dog: 9%
  • My declaration of being too tired to write: 8%
  • Travel misadventures: 8% and 5%, respectively
  • The aftermath of a painful breakup: 7%
  • My snarky response to an obnoxious open letter of resignation: 7%
  • My laments over our disinclination to listen and read attentively: 5%, 5%, and 3%, respectively
  • My thoughts on good teaching practice: 3%
  • My declaration of intent to write daily and mindfully: 2%

From these numbers I could reasonably extrapolate that to maximize hits on my blog I should write about my students (preferably by name), post cute pictures of sleeping dogs, and announce dramatic life changes which may or may not be true.

Of course, as recent activity has demonstrated, hits on a page are not indicative of words read.  In fact, there seems to be an inverse relationship between site traffic and thoughtful reaction.

To the extent that I can in a career that puts me in daily contact with teenagers, I avoid popular culture because it exhausts me. I don’t have TV, I subscribe to very few magazines, and I listen primarily to public radio. On the rare occasion that I tune in to a commercial television or radio station I feel like I am caught in the midst of a shouting match.  Everything from news coverage to product promotion is sensationalized in order to attract my attention, but very little has a lasting impact on my thinking.

Nowhere does this phenomenon concern me more than in the political arena where sentences are taken out of context, opposing viewpoints are vilified, and extremism is rapidly becoming the only way to get attention. It’s not just insulting to my contemplative sensibilities. It frightens me, because it is through these snap judgments and shallow coverage that many of my fellow citizens determine where to cast their votes.

So here I am, contributing to the vast world of digital media in my very small way.  And I’ll admit it: I like to see spikes in my bar graph. But I must remind myself that I’m not doing this for spikes.  This is first and foremost an exercise in self-improvement. If I attract a few like-minded readers along the way, fantastic.

By the way, here’s another cute dog picture.