Task 1: What’s in my bag?

Hi, I’m Linda. I am an instructional designer and course & educational technology assistant at the University of Toronto.

What would be in your bag? What would be your daily need for these items?

Looking at the contents of my bag, some of these items have an obvious functional use but others appear to be unexpected or random.

Functional items

• Three sanitary pads
• One rain cover
  • I would cover my backpack with the rain cover when there was precipitation or when I had to put my bag on the ground during my commute.
• One purse hook
  • This is the cat shaped object in the picture. I would use it to hang my bag off of a table so that I wouldn’t have to place it on the ground.
• Disposable utensils
• House keys
• Card sleeve and cards
  • The cards included my T-Card, government issued photo ID, debit card, and credit card.
• Office keys
• Two Moleskine notebooks
  • The smaller black notebook is used to log my hours for my instructional designer contract.
  • The larger navy notebook is used for my MET notes.
• One pen
  • I used to carry a pencil case with more stationary, but I had started to use my office’s supplies more rather than using my own.
• Hand cream

Seemingly unexpected items

• Four lip products
  • I don’t wear any make up. The only functional lip product is the chapstick, but I carry three lipsticks (purple, dark red, red).
  • I realize these lip products might be tied to my vanity and desire to maintain appearance even though I only use lipstick for special occasions.
• Scrunchie
  • I normally have much longer hair. My mom cut my hair during the COVID-19 quarantine and it’s now ear length.
  • The scrunchie is also a relic of my past work experience as a Chemistry high school teacher and university teaching assistant. I needed to tie my hair for labs.

Seemingly random items

• Backpack care card
  • I was probably too lazy to put this in a proper place and having it in my bag seemed like the most logical place for it.
• Packing foam
  • This was at my mom’s insistence to help protect my bag.
• Two transcripts from the University of Toronto
  • I requested these transcripts when I was applying for the MET program at UBC. I guess I never put them in a proper place.
• Cards from the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan
  • • This is a depressing set of cards I received in Fall 2017 when I had just started my high school teaching career.
    • The cards are played like Cards Against Humanity or Apples to Apples where you try to complete a sentence or phrase on one type of card.

How might these items be considered “texts” and what do they say about you, the places you inhabit, the cultures with which you engage, and/or the activities you take up?

I think these items reflect my reality as a commuter. The rain cover, purse hook, and packing foam are used to decrease wear and tear. To me, my bag is a valuable item that needs to protected.

I have a lot of keys and cards that grant my access to specific areas. Along with my transcripts, there’s a suggestion that I may have access to middle class activities.

The make up in my bag would mislead viewers into thinking I use it, when I do not.

Overall, there’s a suggestion of privilege given the branded backpack and transcripts, but my attempts to protect these items suggest that it’s a novel space for me that should not be taken for granted.

Thinking about the title of the course, what are the “text technologies” in your bag, if any? What do these items say about how you engage with language and communication?

Digital

The cards in my card sleeve (e.g., bank cards, T-Card, PRESTO card) are digital. They send messages about transactions and record my purchasing and location behaviours. I’ve set up most of my cards so that I receive text messages to record my use.

Print

I use paper notebooks to record information and take notes. Although the hours I log in my smaller notebook are later tracked in a Google Sheet, I still use it to quickly jot down my time and tasks. I’ve always used physical notebooks for school so I treat it as a small space to get away from all my digital distractions. It just feels special to write by hand. I find that I can more easily organize my ideas on paper.

My transcripts, letters, and the branding on my other items are technically print although the product of digital technology. The communicate information about me, my pension, and how to use my products.

What do the items in your bag say about the literacies you have?

Overall, these items suggest that I am literate in both digital and print media. Depending on my needs, I can switch between traditional and digital media.

Given the daily challenges of commuting and the constant distractions in my job, I return to traditional print media to connect with just my thoughts. I find that this transition helps me focus on what I want to express.

How does the narrative of the (private) contents of your bag compare with the narrative produced by image you have of yourself or the image you outwardly project?

The functional and seemingly unexpected items are more in line with what you might expect. My bag has things that are necessary for my commute from home to work. I use some of that time for homework and I try to maintain my bag’s condition. I don’t carry as many items (e.g, laptop and wires) with me anymore because I now have that equipment in my office.

It’s really the random items in my bag that highlight the invisible emotional baggage I carry with me. I carry an identity that is burdened by overvaluing academics and work.

Two transcripts from the University of Toronto

These transcripts might be tied to my competitiveness and obsession with academics, although I try not to outwardly project this. It looks like I’ve internalized valuing academic currency and still struggle to move away from it.

I think as a newer professional, it was hard for me to see what was so great about me outside of my transcript. After completing my undergraduate and teacher’s college, I didn’t really know who I was outside of school.

Cards from the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan

I don’t need these cards and they certainly don’t need to be in my bag. However, they carry my closeted desire to still be a high school teacher.

The phrases were upsetting because I was having a horrible transition from school to the workforce. My start up contract was terminated unexpectedly, I hated supply teaching, I was working three to seven short term contracts at the same time, and feeling like I would never find my place. Reading these phrases made me feel so disposable and I was so disappointed with myself. Although I’m very happy working at a university and where I am now, high school teaching was always something I wanted to do. I can never stop asking myself, what if?

What would this same bag have looked like, say, 15 or 25 years ago?

15 years ago, I would have been in Grade 5 or 6. My orange backpack would have contained binders, a pencil case, and my school lunch.

25 years ago, I would have been just a few months old and unable to carry a bag. Instead, others would carry items for me and my necessities would be determined by them.

How do you imagine an archeologist aiming to understand this temporal period might view the contents of your bag many years in the future?

I think an archeologist might compare my bag to others to other decades to see how people have transitioned in the collection of:

• essential and functional items
• non-essential and trophy type items
• traditional vs. digital objects

It would be interesting to see how these classes of items are present and absent as we move into more digital technologies. However, it’s important to be aware that the digital access may be within more privileged spaces.

I think my bag’s content show a transition point between digital and traditional. The digital media allow us to compartmentalize multiple uses in a smaller space, facilitate mass communication, and increase efficiency. The traditional media appear to become obsolete, but highlight nostalgia and personalization. The switching and use of both media offer opportunities to navigate multiple spaces in a digital divide.