We Shape Culture

I’m a late adopter when it comes to social platforms. I love tech, but forging human connections on apps has been a struggle in my creative practice and in my business. I remember when human creativity reigned in those spaces. It was an exciting way to share the work you were most proud of and connect with other artists and new clients. Private groups actually felt private. It’s how I learned who was doing what and where in the arts world. It’s how I planned a launch party or a performance. It’s how I funded my first film, White Space, on Indiegogo before crowdfunding medical procedures and funerals became commonplace. I can’t help but consider the ways that artists have shaped the culture of social media the past fifteen years, or how deeply I wish to reclaim authentic community engagement practices in this moment.

As a community artist, my social media accounts and those of my fellow creatives often serve as triage bulletin boards. Someone posts about death or suffering and a random “haha” emoji from a bot or a human deployed by some inappropriate use of the haha emoji regime slices through the love and care reactions. From deep fake videos to AI generated info-carousels with no citations, the range of social media content online highlights just how unserious this swap meet has become. An authentic offering of a poem or a photograph seems performative and futile amidst the noisy feed.

It feels like I’m trying to meet up with my friends in ‘“standing room only” at a crowded outdoor concert with no cell service. It’s dark. It’s loud. I’m too short to see over the sweaty dude rocking side to side and swiping the air with his heavy arm inches from my face. I want to be where the people are, but I have asthma and the clouds of smoke from the intermittent pyrotechnics and scented vape are way too much.

The tension headache between the work I do for clients, and how I personally feel about authentic human connection isn’t something an ibuprofen can fix. In 2025 my business did some really impactful work and saw engagement soar for our clients. I appreciate the individuals and organizations who are still duking it out with the algorithms, especially those who have vowed to use social media for good like my client Kristi Piehl, and her firm Media Minefield, who we helped with email strategy for the launch of Kristi’s book Flip Your Script: Own Your Story and Unlock the Positive Power of Social Media. Kristi Piehl makes a case for not abandoning social media when it comes to business and your personal legacy. She believes that positive voices are needed on social media more than ever before. I agree with her, yet I barely post on my own platforms.

When some of my favorite tender-hearted artists made their exit from social media platforms last year, I wanted to follow them into that good (or presumedly better)night. I’m not sure that social media spaces were ever capable of feeding our authentic creativity or connection with our audience as artists. I’m still rooting for those who are finding their way, and those who’ve thrived on the margins and in the places large language models (LLMs) aren’t looking. For example, fiber artists and upcycled fashion designers reworking a thrift store find still catch my sense of wonder and possibility, even though some of them edit their videos to the algorithm the way educators are pressured to teach to the test.

In the coming years, I believe there’s an opportunity for artists to shift and shape the culture as we’ve always done. Training a large language model to mimic us, can’t replace us. Whether we’re opting in or out, we are influencing culture. Deliberate curation of our feeds, using the mute/block/unfollow options, and taking our best offerings to the spaces and places that appreciate them could be a place to start.

Throughout the next year, I will explore alternative engagement options and seek out live events and in-person interactions. Maybe I’ll see you there.

Andante,

Maya & The Team