oh, I KNOW YOU...from google scholar!: Why I finally need to take my online presence seriously.
I can totally relate to what Lowenthal et al. (2016) argued in their article: if you meet someone online whom you've known for some time and then run into them at a conference, you don't start from zero. When I was going through my PhD application interview on Zoom, I remember silently screaming in my head, "Oh my god, it's her!" — sitting face-to-face (virtually) with researchers whose work I had been reading. As I started my PhD program and began attending conferences, I finally got to meet these "superstars" of my field in person. I had read their articles, cited them in my own work, and watched their lectures on YouTube.
Even without ever having met them in person, I already shared a kind of history with these renowned scholars. The moment I walked into their sessions, there was an unspoken familiarity — at least on my end.
One such moment happened at AERA in Los Angeles, where I ran into Dr. Victor Lee at a concurrent session. I had actually tried to reach out to him the previous fall before applying to PhD programs, but never received a reply. Technically, we had no real connection beyond the fact that we work in the same field. But because I had visited his website multiple times and was well acquainted with his research, I felt as comfortable as if we had already shared a sixty-minute coffee chat. So when I approached him — a complete stranger, officially — I smiled and said rather casually, "By the way, I emailed you last year and never heard back." He laughed and replied, "I get about 600 emails a year from people I don't know." And just like that, the conversation took off naturally.
We had a wonderful time talking about each other's research interests, but when it was time to move on to the next session, I asked, "How can I reach you if I have more questions?" He said, "Connect with me on LinkedIn — if you message me there, I'll actually reply. What was your name again?"
That's when it hit me.
Before coming to the conference, I had told myself I would clean up and sharpen my LinkedIn profile — make it presentable and easy to share when exchanging contacts with other researchers. I had simply forgotten to follow through. We ended up exchanging emails instead, but I left the conversation with a nagging sense of having missed an opportunity.
This kind of moment kept repeating itself throughout the conference. Whenever I struck up a conversation with someone at a poster session whose research I found compelling, they would almost invariably ask for my webpage or LinkedIn profile. Each time, I felt a pang of self-reproach for not having invested enough effort into my intentional web presence.
Lowenthal et al. (2016) offered quite a few useful tips on this front, and reflecting on those experiences has led me to set a concrete goal for myself this summer: to properly build my online "basecamp" through my Web 2.0 course. I also plan to revisit and update my CV — which I had refreshed back in March for my qualification exam — before the Fall semester begins.
It's time to show up online the way I show up at conferences.
References
I loved reading this post! This is the most academic version of “I know you from the internet” I’ve ever seen 😂. Honestly, the part where you casually opened with “I emailed you last year and never heard back” took courage on a level I aspire to achieve someday. Also, Dr. Lee basically confirmed what we all secretly suspect: LinkedIn messages are the true currency of academia now. Don’t just flirt in the journals—if your LinkedIn isn’t up to date, do you even exist at a conference? Your story perfectly captures the feeling that today’s conferences are like “live-action” sequences of our online academic lives.
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