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Weisheng here! I love sharing my thoughts with people, especially over a good cup of teh beng at the best mamak spots! Feel free to reach out to me anytime, anywhere, as I’ll be posting more blogs about my personal life and my recent studies on Digital Communities.

Disclaimer: This blog is for academic purposes.

When disaster hits: fires, floods, earthquakes - it’s not just roads and homes that collapse. It’s comms, too. The irony? That’s exactly when we need information most. Enter: the people-powered internet. Crowdsourcing, baby. 💻🤝

In places where official communication lines break (or straight-up vanish), everyday folks have stepped up with tools, tweets, and real-time updates. Think: live Google Maps edits during the Haiti earthquake, community Facebook groups coordinating rescues in the Queensland floods, or even volunteer hackers building crisis dashboards after the Japan tsunami. This isn’t just digital noise, it’s networked survival. 🔥🌍

Ushahidi, for example, turned chaos into clarity during the Kenyan crisis and beyond. Their open-source platform lets people on the ground report directly, map danger zones, and flag where help’s needed. It’s giving: “we are the media now.” According to Riccardi (2016), crowdsourced info isn't just fast, it’s often more accurate and human-centered than traditional top-down systems.

This is where the idea of the “networked public” hits hard. Crisis transforms social media from scroll culture into survival infrastructure. Communities and strangers become instant responders, and platforms like Twitter or YouTube turn into lifelines, literally.

But it’s not all sunshine and crowds. Challenges exist: misinformation spreads fast, data can get messy, and not everyone’s online. Still, the shift is real. Crises now birth digital communities: fluid, temporary, but powerful AF.

So next time systems break, remember: crowds don’t just panic, they organize. And sometimes, the people with the least signal have the loudest impact.

References:

Ushahidi's crowdsourcing software gives people a voice in times of crisis 26 January 2018 Ushahidi's crowdsourcing software gives people a voice in times of crisis

Let’s be real: being “online” today means dodging hate, callouts, and the occasional Andrew Tate stan sliding into your mentions with unprovoked misogyny. Welcome to the wild west of digital citizenship, where we should be building communities, but half the time we’re just surviving the algorithm’s blind eye to abuse. 💀📉

Social media governance? A hot mess. Platforms claim to protect us, but #NoSnowflakes culture (Haslop et al., 2021) has normalized online harassment as just “free speech.” Especially for women and queer folks, the internet isn’t a safe public square, it’s a battlefield. And what’s worse? This gendered digital divide is growing, not shrinking.

Enter: the manosphere. According to Rich & Bujalkagence (2023), guys like Andrew Tate thrive by offering “lost men” a purpose, problem is, that purpose is rooted in misogyny, victim-blaming, and toxic masculinity repackaged as empowerment. Algorithms amplify it, feeds monetize it, and suddenly hate becomes content. 🤡🔗

Marwick & Caplan (2018) break it down: the manosphere doesn’t just vent, it organizes. It weaponizes memes, dog whistles, and edgy language ("male tears," anyone?) to harass feminists, enforce gender norms, and legitimize hate as humor. It’s less trolling, more networked warfare.

So where does digital citizenship fit in? Right here, in calling this sh*t out, not just canceling individuals but questioning why the systems keep boosting them. Governance shouldn’t be just moderation, it should be accountability, education, and culture change.

Being a good digital citizen in 2025 isn’t just about liking the right posts, it’s about fighting for platforms that don’t profit off pain.

References:

Gaming used to be you, a console, and maybe some cold pizza. Now? It’s Twitch raids, Discord drama, Minecraft meetups, and indie devs turning local scenes into global movements. Gaming’s glow-up into a full-blown social universe is wild, and lowkey, Gen Z is thriving in it.

Platforms like Twitch have turned play into performance. As Taylor (2018) puts it, live streaming is more than just gameplay: it’s broadcasting ourselves. Watching someone game feels like chilling with a friend, not just consuming content. And for creators, it’s not just about being good at the game, it’s about building a vibe, a fandom, a community. You’re not just playing Elden Ring, you’re co-creating a weird little corner of the internet where inside jokes and emotes rule. 🧠👾💜

Meanwhile, indie scenes, like the one in Melbourne that Keogh (2021) explores, show how small devs are creating hyper-local, emotionally rich games that resonate globally. These devs aren’t chasing AAA clout, they’re building games that reflect real lives, queer joy, anxiety, awkwardness, feels. Community isn’t just who plays the game, it’s who makes it.

And Minecraft? Don't even get us started. Hjorth et al. (2021) show how it’s not just a sandbox game; it’s a whole ecosystem of creativity, collaboration, and chaotic fun. Whether it’s building fantasy worlds or making cursed minigames, the play is collective. We’re not just gaming anymore, we’re world-building with friends.

Gaming today isn’t escape: it’s connection. It’s identity. It’s social currency. The grind is still real, but now we’ve got an audience, a squad, and maybe a few subs to go with it.

References:

Keogh, B 2021, 'The Melbourne indie game scenes: value regimes in localized game development' (Chapter 13), P Ruffino (ed), Independent Videogames: Cultures, Networks, Techniques and Politics, Routledge, pp.209-222. Taylor, TL 2018, ‘Broadcasting ourselves’ (chapter 1), in Watch Me Play: Twitch and the Rise of Game Live Streaming, Princeton University Press, pp.1-23.

Be honest: how many pics did you take before posting that one selfie? And did it even make the cut without a filter? Yeah... same. 😮‍💨

Welcome to Gen Z’s identity crisis, brought to you by the ✨beauty filter industrial complex✨. From Instagram’s “clean girl” gloss to Snapchat’s puppy-dog dysmorphia, filters aren’t just fun add-ons anymore, they’re lowkey rewriting what we think we should look like.

Snapchat started it with those face-slimming, eye-enlarging, lip-plumping filters. Barker (2020) calls them “pretty filters with ugly implications”, because suddenly, your real face isn’t cute enough. It's giving ✨cyborg chic✨ but also... identity issues. Gen Z girls especially are feeling the pressure to match their filtered face IRL. Injectables at 19? Normalized. Nose jobs before 21? Yup. All chasing the “Instagram Face” - that same glowy, poreless, filler-heavy look that’s basically a Kardashian AI clone. 🤖💋

Rettberg (2014) explains that filters are more than just visual tweaks - they're “filtered reality,” a tool we use to see and shape ourselves. But when the filter becomes the goal, not the edit? We’re in trouble. It’s no longer “I’m enhancing my look,” it’s “I am this filtered version of me.”

What’s wild is we know it's fake. We know that no one glows like that naturally. But the pressure? Still there. Because that filtered version gets more likes. More views. More validation. 🙃

Gen Z isn’t obsessed with perfection; we’re exhausted by it. Maybe it’s time to say f**k the filter, post the pimple, and let our pixels breathe.

References:

Okay but real talk: why does the internet love body mods until you’re actually real about them?

Tattoos, piercings, filler, fishnets, nipple tape... It’s all 🔥 aesthetic until the algorithm decides you're "too much." Like damn, I didn’t get inked and snatched just to be buried on the feed. Welcome to the weird-ass world of digital body politics, where your body is a ✨brand✨, but only if it fits the platform’s safe-for-ads vibe.

As Drenten et al. (2020) break it down, we’re basically doing sexualized labour without clocking in. That “effortless hot” look? Yeah, it’s strategy. A curated, monetizable vibe. Especially for femme creators, being sexy sells - but be too sexy and suddenly you’re flagged, shadowbanned, or worse, deplatformed. 🤡

Duffy & Meisner (2022) call this algorithmic invisibility. Creators at the margins: especially queer, body-modified, POC, alt babes - are constantly navigating a double standard. The platforms profit off our edgy aesthetic, but don’t protect our reach. It’s giving exploitation with a filter. 🧍🏽‍♀️📉

So here we are: modifying our bodies IRL for self-love or identity, and then modifying our content online just to survive the algorithm. I didn’t get my septum and sleeve just to be told I’m “inappropriate,” Susan.

Body mods are more than trends: they’re culture, rebellion, healing. But on the ‘Gram, they’re only allowed if they’re polished, pretty, and palatable. Messy? Real? Raw? Banned.

Post your piercings. Show your stretch marks. Own your OnlyFans if that’s your lane (jk pls don't); but the main point is to be your authentic self, stop supressing what the bots prevented you from truly upholding; but in the same time let's be mindful in honoring our body, in the way we speak to one another instead of demolishing and promoting distortion. #love

References:

#SlowFashion: When Influence Meets Integrity

In a fast-paced world of microtrends and overconsumption, slow fashion offers an intentional, sustainable alternative. It’s not just about clothes - it’s a lifestyle, a mindset. As Domingos et al. (2022) highlight, slow fashion is about ethical production, environmental responsibility, and valuing quality over quantity. But how does this get traction in a world that scrolls at the speed of TikTok?

This aligns with what I studied in Slow Fashion via Instagram, where influencers act as gatekeepers between brands and consumers. They build trust, foster dialogue, and most importantly, shift values. It’s no longer just about aesthetics - it’s about accountability.

Thrift shopping in Malaysia is a growing part of the slow fashion movement, especially among Gen Z and millennials who are increasingly aware of sustainability and affordability.

#ThriftCultureMY: Malaysia’s Growing Love for Secondhand Style 💚🛍

In the heart of Kuala Lumpur, Johor Bahru, and even in smaller towns, thrift stores and flea markets are popping up everywhere. From curated vintage shops like Fifth and BUNDLEOUT to casual flea markets at Pasar Seni or Amcorp Mall, thrifting has become more than just a budget-friendly option - it’s a lifestyle movement.

Why? It ticks all the boxes of slow fashion: reusing, reducing waste, and valuing clothes beyond trends. According to Domingos et al. (2022), slow fashion consumers are more conscious of environmental and ethical issues, and thrifting supports that mindset.

More interestingly, Instagram and TikTok play huge roles in making thrift culture cool. Local influencers like @ayemelody and @khairulaming (occasionally showing thrifted styles) are helping normalize secondhand fashion. These platforms become spaces not just for OOTDs, but also for sharing stories of conscious consumption.

Thrift events like Kwai Chai Hong’s pre-loved bazaars and Carousell preloved markets are now social spaces too - mixing fashion, sustainability, and community. As noted in Slow Fashion via Instagram, such events show how digital and physical communities blend together to promote ethical practices.

Of course, there’s still work to be done. Fast fashion remains dominant, and awareness around greenwashing or ethical sourcing isn't widespread. But thrift culture is carving out a meaningful space - and I love seeing how it's driven not just by affordability, but by intention.

Hey friends, Weisheng here again! 🌐✨ Today, I’m reflecting on what Digital Citizenship truly means - especially through the lens of hashtag publics, political engagement, and activism.

#DigitalCitizenship: Activism, Hashtags & the Power of #BlackLivesMatter

Digital citizenship isn't just about being online; it's about participating meaningfully in digital spaces. As Choi and Cristol (2021) emphasize, digital citizenship should support participatory democracy, encouraging users to be active agents for social change. And nothing exemplifies this better than the global impact of #BlackLivesMatter.

#BlackLivesMatter (BLM) started as a grassroots movement against systemic racism and police violence in the U.S., but through digital platforms, it evolved into a global conversation. Hashtags like #BLM became rallying points - what we call "hashtag publics" - bringing together individuals from diverse backgrounds to amplify a shared cause (Kim & Lee, 2022).

The Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement enhanced their messages by effectively using social media, it accelerated the need to understand digital citizenship in a profound way, particularly emphasizing its effects on marginalized and oppressed people (Choi & Cristol 2021).

The movement shows how a single hashtag can disrupt traditional power structures. BLM empowered marginalized voices, shaped public opinion, and pushed institutions toward accountability. As outlined in “About Black Lives Matter” (2020), the campaign goes beyond social media - it’s about visibility, community, and justice. And yet, it wouldn’t have spread as far or fast without digital citizens participating, resharing, and engaging critically with the content.

This mirrors local examples too. During the COVID-19 pandemic in Malaysia, hashtag campaigns like #KitaJagaKita showed how digital platforms could foster solidarity and rapid mobilization during a crisis. These movements, though different in scale, share the same digital DNA: collective action through networked participation (Hashtag Campaigns, n.d.).

As digital citizens, we have a responsibility - not just to post, but to engage consciously. To question, to listen, to learn. Whether it’s through visual narratives like #ShoutYourAbortion (Kim & Lee, 2022) or intersectional approaches to digital activism (Choi & Cristol, 2021), our online behavior shapes real-world impact.

So the next time we hit "share" on a hashtag, let’s remember - we're not just scrolling. We're building public discourse, one post at a time. ✊🏾💬

References

Hashtag Campaigns During the COVID 19 pandemic in Malaysia.pdf

Kim, Y., & Lee, S. (2022). #ShoutYourAbortion on Instagram: Exploring the Visual Representation of Hashtag Movement and the Public’s Responses. SAGE Open, 12(2).

Matter, B. L. (2020). About black lives matter. Blacklivesmatter. com.

The term “Basketball is life” is a common statement expressed by players to show their love and dedication to the sport. It’s not the moves and skills that make the sport comparable to life, but rather it’s the values and attitudes learned through the sport that make basketball a mere reflection of life itself.

The life lessons from basketball extend beyond the court, shaping how players handle challenges and achieve goals. From teamwork and discipline to mental toughness and adaptability, basketball teaches valuable skills applicable to everyday life. 

1. TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK

2. PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

3. HARDWORK OVER TALENT 

4. BE YOUR OWN MAKER AND STORYTELLER

5. YOU MISS 100% OF THE SHOTS YOU DON’T TAKE

Each play is a lesson in communication, strategy, and adapting to the unexpected. It’s about knowing when to take the shot and when to pass, much like the decisions you face every day. Basketball isn’t just a game; it’s a masterclass in life skills.

#Digital Community and Fandom 🏀💬

Hey friends! Weisheng here - and today, I want to geek out a bit about something I truly love: basketball! 🏀 More specifically, my fandom for Stephen Curry. His playstyle, energy, and sheer determination have kept me glued to the screen for years. But fandom isn’t just about watching games anymore, it’s become a whole community experience, especially online.

Digital communities have transformed the way we engage with what we love. As Deller (2019) notes, social media has shifted how we participate in fandom - from passive consumption to active contribution. Whether it's tweeting during live games or sharing highlight reels on Instagram, being part of Curry’s fandom feels more like a shared culture than a hobby.

This collective feeling is powerful. According to Fandom, Social Media, and Identity Work (2019), fans often use the pronoun "we" when talking about their favorite figures - "we won last night!" - highlighting how fandom helps construct identity and belonging. In Curry’s case, his underdog story resonates deeply with fans, creating a space where we support and uplift one another.

Melissa Sheil (2020) discusses how social media enables fans to co-create content, making platforms like Twitter and Reddit vital for forming Web 2.0-style communities. We don’t just talk about basketball - we remix it, debate it, and even meme it.

Finally, the Transformation of Fan Culture (2021) reminds us that fan practices are evolving. Social media has blurred the lines between audience and participant, and that’s exactly what makes being part of a digital fandom so exciting.

So whether I’m sipping ma teh beng at mamak Aliff or scrolling through Curry highlights on YouTube, I’m always connected to a larger, vibrant digital family. 💻💛

References: Deller, Ruth A, (2019) Extract: 'Chapter Six: Reality Television in an Age of Social Media'

Fandom, Social Media, and Identity Work: The Emergence of Virtual Community Through the Pronoun “We”(2019)

Reality television fandom on social media: A community of Web 2.0 by Melissa Sheil