Compassionate DIY:
Derek M. Sparby
A few years ago, Haas and Eble (2018) and Walton, Moore, and Jones (2019) identified and defined our field’s social justice turn, which has, in part, honed a focus on the various ways marginalized and minoritized communities engage in technical communication. Scholars have asked questions like, what is Black technical communication (Mckoy, Shelton, Johnson Sackey, Jones, Haywood, Wourman, & Harper, 2022; Allen, 2022; Byrd, 2022; Edwards & Walwema, 2022; Pouncil, 2022; Yusuf & Namboodri Schioppa, 2022)? What is queer technical communication (Ramler, 2021; Green, 2021; Cox, 2018)? These questions center intersections of identity and embodied experience, as well as how power, positionality, and privilege play into them. This presentation builds on these questions by asking a new-ish one: what is trans technical communication? That is, I examine what it means to foreground trans ways of being, knowing, and doing to further decenter hegemonic conceptions of technical communication. I use trans as a large umbrella term that encompasses transgender, transsexual, nonbinary, agender, and other genderqueer and genderfucked identities. After giving a brief overview of previous tech comm scholarship on trans communities and connecting trans tech comm to tactical tech comm, I turn to trans social media influencer Mercury Stardust’s compassionate DIY approach before offering my experience for teaching her practices in an introductory tech comm course.
In many ways, this burgeoning project is a response to Moeggenberg, Edenfield, and Holmes (2022) who point out our field’s need for more research on trans experiences and posit several questions to initiate a scholarly conversation. Their research identifies how technical communication documents, such as identity-based checkbox questionnaires and government proposals, fail and/or enact violence on trans people in ways that are often only detectable to other trans people.
Other recent research focuses on responses and resistances to medical exclusion. It shows that trans technical communication is inherently tactical because to exist as/in a trans body is to exist outside of institutional norms and expectations. Or to flip that, as Edenfield, Holmes, and Colton (2019) argue, that to be queer—and consequently to be trans—is inherently to be tactical. In two articles, they examine trans online communities that create and share DIY hormone replacement therapy in Reddit and Tumblr. Edenfield (2021) also shows how the COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated the precarity of trans existence by isolating some trans folks with unaccepting family and/or cutting them off from gender affirming care, which required them to engage in tactical DIY methods, like homebrewing recipes for hormones. Alexander and Edenfield (2021) examine how African American trans individuals use tactical folk medicine and care to address their intersecting and compounding needs as Black and trans, and in some case Black and trans and woman, in lieu of adequate healthcare resources.
The tactical documents and techniques these researchers examine above are based in necessity. They are responses to violence and erasure from medical institutions who frequently occlude information and/or deny gender affirming care. They are necessary for trans survival, and I do not use that word flippantly given the high frequency of trans people assaulted and murdered for merely existing, and the high number of trans folks who take their own lives because they can’t see a way forward in a world that doesn’t seem to want them in it.
Thanks in large part to these studies as well as many others on social justice and queer tech comm, I’ve started thinking about a different but related approach to studying tech comm. What does technical communication look like by trans people that maybe doesn’t carry such high stakes and/or that might include (intentionally or not) users outside of the trans community? When asking this question, I always find myself coming back to Mercury Stardust.
Mercury uses she/they pronouns interchangeably, so I’ll switch between them in this presentation. She is a digital content creator who also goes by the moniker The Trans Handy Ma’am, and they use their nearly two decades of experience as a general contractor to give viewers renter- and budget-friendly advice on fixing issues around their homes; she has also published a bestselling book, Safe and Sound: A Renter-Friendly Guide to Home Repair, and hosts the podcasts Handy Ma’am Hotline and Maintenance is a Drag, all of which have similar goals. I first found their TikToks in the early days of the pandemic, and even though I didn’t need information about home repair, I found myself drawn in by her videos and their “Compassionate DIY” approach that dismantles the misogyny, queerphobia, and transphobia often inherent in home repair communities. Mercury helps people learn often complex information in easy to understand, but also empowering ways. A catchphrase they often repeat is, “you’re worth the time it takes to learn a new skill.” I won’t lie, I teared up the first time I heard her say that because I’d never heard someone say something like that before. The compassion Mercury shows their viewers results in a kind of care that is palpable and often joyful.
In many ways, this burgeoning project is a response to Moeggenberg, Edenfield, and Holmes (2022) who point out our field’s need for more research on trans experiences and posit several questions to initiate a scholarly conversation. Their research identifies how technical communication documents, such as identity-based checkbox questionnaires and government proposals, fail and/or enact violence on trans people in ways that are often only detectable to other trans people.
Other recent research focuses on responses and resistances to medical exclusion. It shows that trans technical communication is inherently tactical because to exist as/in a trans body is to exist outside of institutional norms and expectations. Or to flip that, as Edenfield, Holmes, and Colton (2019) argue, that to be queer—and consequently to be trans—is inherently to be tactical. In two articles, they examine trans online communities that create and share DIY hormone replacement therapy in Reddit and Tumblr. Edenfield (2021) also shows how the COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated the precarity of trans existence by isolating some trans folks with unaccepting family and/or cutting them off from gender affirming care, which required them to engage in tactical DIY methods, like homebrewing recipes for hormones. Alexander and Edenfield (2021) examine how African American trans individuals use tactical folk medicine and care to address their intersecting and compounding needs as Black and trans, and in some case Black and trans and woman, in lieu of adequate healthcare resources.
The tactical documents and techniques these researchers examine above are based in necessity. They are responses to violence and erasure from medical institutions who frequently occlude information and/or deny gender affirming care. They are necessary for trans survival, and I do not use that word flippantly given the high frequency of trans people assaulted and murdered for merely existing, and the high number of trans folks who take their own lives because they can’t see a way forward in a world that doesn’t seem to want them in it.
Thanks in large part to these studies as well as many others on social justice and queer tech comm, I’ve started thinking about a different but related approach to studying tech comm. What does technical communication look like by trans people that maybe doesn’t carry such high stakes and/or that might include (intentionally or not) users outside of the trans community? When asking this question, I always find myself coming back to Mercury Stardust.
Mercury uses she/they pronouns interchangeably, so I’ll switch between them in this presentation. She is a digital content creator who also goes by the moniker The Trans Handy Ma’am, and they use their nearly two decades of experience as a general contractor to give viewers renter- and budget-friendly advice on fixing issues around their homes; she has also published a bestselling book, Safe and Sound: A Renter-Friendly Guide to Home Repair, and hosts the podcasts Handy Ma’am Hotline and Maintenance is a Drag, all of which have similar goals. I first found their TikToks in the early days of the pandemic, and even though I didn’t need information about home repair, I found myself drawn in by her videos and their “Compassionate DIY” approach that dismantles the misogyny, queerphobia, and transphobia often inherent in home repair communities. Mercury helps people learn often complex information in easy to understand, but also empowering ways. A catchphrase they often repeat is, “you’re worth the time it takes to learn a new skill.” I won’t lie, I teared up the first time I heard her say that because I’d never heard someone say something like that before. The compassion Mercury shows their viewers results in a kind of care that is palpable and often joyful.
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This brings me to the concept of “trans care,” which Malatino (2020) theorizes in his book by the same name. Trans care can be medical care, but it is also much more expansive that that. He conceptualizes a version of care that doesn’t rely on traditional models that tend to recapitulate white, Eurocentric, familial models of motherhood and feminized labor because those models don’t always work for trans folks who are often ostracized from friends and family and/or kicked out of their homes after coming out. Malatino explains trans care in a way that strikes me as tactical. He says, “we need it especially when our lives fall in the gaps between institutions and familial structures. Those gaps are worlds, and those worlds don’t function without care work” (p. 3). Trans care is survival and resilience. It is not only supportive, but also regenerative through rendering the world mundane. It is “maintenance work that must be done so trans folks can get about the work of living” (Malatino, 2020, p. 41).
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Let’s watch one of Mercury’s shorter TikToks to get a sense for how they enact trans care through her compassionate DIY approach.
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In this brief TikTok, Mercury stitches another user’s video to not only answer the question, but to also introduce a handy little tool to all her thousands of followers. I chose this video out of hundreds because it demonstrates in 1 minute and 8 seconds everything that makes Mercury an effective and compassionate technical communicator. Notice how, in addition to giving clear and direct information, they demonstrate deep care for the asker, and by extension any other viewers, through opening with the affirmative statement “this is such a good question”; she reiterates this care towards the end when they say “and don’t let anyone in the comment section tell you this is a dumb question” because the original video is filled with exactly those kinds of comments. Mercury calls these rhetorical maneuvers “compassionate DIY,” but I recognize them as so much more – they are trans care. They have talked in other videos about the often-toxic realm of home maintenance and repair, and here they intentionally destabilize this toxicity through compassion and direct encouragement that invites novices into the conversation.
The trans care Mercury shows also goes beyond what she says and how she says it. Their very presence on our phone screens is a form of care for trans folks. Being openly trans and visibly femme and just authentically herself, they exhibit a form of trans joy that opens future possibilities for trans folks. Anyone can watch Mercury’s videos to learn maintenance and repair tips and tricks, but trans people get the extra benefit of aftercare, which is care that helps us heal in the aftermath of harmful conditions.
I have started teaching Mercury in the intro level tech comm course I teach, usually in the unit on procedural documentation. I show students a few of her TikToks and put them in groups to talk before we analyze them as a class. Student responses vary at the beginning of this lesson. A few have seen her TikToks and recognize her; some are excited, some are ambivalent. Some say things like her laugh is annoying, or they critique—not overtly but implicitly—her trans embodiment. I let them get these initial impressions out before I direct them to look more closely at the information Mercury conveys and how they do it: listen to her guidance, note their tone of voice and body language – what does this tell you about her relationship with and disposition towards viewers? And look at the comments – what does this tell you about how they’re received?
From here we can get into a deeper discussion about her compassionate approach and how it can make intimidating repair work feel doable for people who have no or little experience, and even for some people who have experience and are happy to learn a new way to do things. Some students (usually the tech bros) hold out and still say “I just don’t like it,” which then leads us into a discussion on internalized transphobia. I ask, do they just “not like it” because a trans woman is telling them what to do? I take a kind of joy in watching people who don’t think they’re transphobic recognize the insidious way a transphobic society has impacted their thinking. From here, students discuss, what does tech comm look like when it foregrounds care and compassion for users?
Then, we go into an activity. In a previous session, they worked in groups to write short instructions on a simple process, like making a sandwich for an audience who has never made one before. I ask them to revisit these procedural documents and rewrite them as if they are Mercury. Y’all, the results are incredible. Where students previously struggled to provide clarity because they took for granted their own expertise, they were able to not only make clear instructions, but they also added notes (unprompted by me) like “you’re halfway done” and “you just finished the hardest part, you’re doing great” to encourage their users. And this approach directly translated to their final procedural project, a quick reference card, where most gave clear instructions and feedback steps as well as appropriate notes of encouragement that matched the tone of their project. My favorite instance of this was someone who wrote a QRC on modding a video game and they used in-group language from that game to gently tease n00bs in a non-toxic way. They ended by telling them they’re a n00b no more and welcoming them to the community. Little things like this can make a big impact on users, especially if they feel intimidated by a process.
Mercury’s compassionate DIY approach is unapologetically trans. It’s tactical, decentering hegemonically masculine modes of communication. It shows a deep care for their viewers, and it can help all of us become better technical communicators. I’m just at the beginning of untangling other facets of trans tech comm, but my goal with this impending project is to uncover the many unique ways it happens across platforms, people, media, and spaces to identify how we can use some of these practices and ways of thinking to inject social justice into larger tech comm practices. Paying attention to and teaching our students trans tech comm may be one way, quoting Moeggenberg, Edenfield, and Holmes (2022), to “practice productive activism in the name of political and cultural equality” through our tech comm instruction.
The trans care Mercury shows also goes beyond what she says and how she says it. Their very presence on our phone screens is a form of care for trans folks. Being openly trans and visibly femme and just authentically herself, they exhibit a form of trans joy that opens future possibilities for trans folks. Anyone can watch Mercury’s videos to learn maintenance and repair tips and tricks, but trans people get the extra benefit of aftercare, which is care that helps us heal in the aftermath of harmful conditions.
I have started teaching Mercury in the intro level tech comm course I teach, usually in the unit on procedural documentation. I show students a few of her TikToks and put them in groups to talk before we analyze them as a class. Student responses vary at the beginning of this lesson. A few have seen her TikToks and recognize her; some are excited, some are ambivalent. Some say things like her laugh is annoying, or they critique—not overtly but implicitly—her trans embodiment. I let them get these initial impressions out before I direct them to look more closely at the information Mercury conveys and how they do it: listen to her guidance, note their tone of voice and body language – what does this tell you about her relationship with and disposition towards viewers? And look at the comments – what does this tell you about how they’re received?
From here we can get into a deeper discussion about her compassionate approach and how it can make intimidating repair work feel doable for people who have no or little experience, and even for some people who have experience and are happy to learn a new way to do things. Some students (usually the tech bros) hold out and still say “I just don’t like it,” which then leads us into a discussion on internalized transphobia. I ask, do they just “not like it” because a trans woman is telling them what to do? I take a kind of joy in watching people who don’t think they’re transphobic recognize the insidious way a transphobic society has impacted their thinking. From here, students discuss, what does tech comm look like when it foregrounds care and compassion for users?
Then, we go into an activity. In a previous session, they worked in groups to write short instructions on a simple process, like making a sandwich for an audience who has never made one before. I ask them to revisit these procedural documents and rewrite them as if they are Mercury. Y’all, the results are incredible. Where students previously struggled to provide clarity because they took for granted their own expertise, they were able to not only make clear instructions, but they also added notes (unprompted by me) like “you’re halfway done” and “you just finished the hardest part, you’re doing great” to encourage their users. And this approach directly translated to their final procedural project, a quick reference card, where most gave clear instructions and feedback steps as well as appropriate notes of encouragement that matched the tone of their project. My favorite instance of this was someone who wrote a QRC on modding a video game and they used in-group language from that game to gently tease n00bs in a non-toxic way. They ended by telling them they’re a n00b no more and welcoming them to the community. Little things like this can make a big impact on users, especially if they feel intimidated by a process.
Mercury’s compassionate DIY approach is unapologetically trans. It’s tactical, decentering hegemonically masculine modes of communication. It shows a deep care for their viewers, and it can help all of us become better technical communicators. I’m just at the beginning of untangling other facets of trans tech comm, but my goal with this impending project is to uncover the many unique ways it happens across platforms, people, media, and spaces to identify how we can use some of these practices and ways of thinking to inject social justice into larger tech comm practices. Paying attention to and teaching our students trans tech comm may be one way, quoting Moeggenberg, Edenfield, and Holmes (2022), to “practice productive activism in the name of political and cultural equality” through our tech comm instruction.
References
Alexander, J. & Edenfield, A.C. (2021). Health and wellness and resistance: Tactical folk medicine. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(3), 241-256.
Allen, L.A. (2022). Handling family business: Technical communication literacies in Black family reunions. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 229-244.
Byrd, A. (2022). Black professional communicators testifying to Black technical joy. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 298-310.
Cox, M.B. (2018). Shifting grounds as the new status quo: Examining queer theoretical approaches to diversity and taxonomy in the technical communication classroom. In Haas, A. and Eble, M. (Eds.) Key theoretical frameworks: Teaching technical communication in the twenty-first century. Utah State University Press, Logan, UT.
Green, M. (2021). Risking disclosure: Unruly rhetorics and queer(ing) HIV risk communication on Grindr. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(3), 271-284.
Green, M. (2021). Resistance and participation: Queer theory’s applications for HIV health technology design. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(4), 331-344.
Haas, A.M. & Eble, M.F. (2018). Introduction: The social justice turn. In Haas, A.M. & Eble, M.F. (Eds.) Key theoretical frameworks: Teaching technical communication in the twenty-first century. Utah State University Press, Logan, UT.
Edenfield, A.C. (2021). Managing gender care in precarity: Trans communities respond to COVID-19. Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 35(1), 15-21.
Edenfield, A.C., Holmes, S., & Colton, J.S. (2019). Queering tactical technical communication: DIY HRT. Technical Communication Quarterly, 28(3), 177-191.
Edenfield, A.C., Colton, J.S., & Holmes, S. (2019). Always already geopolitical: Trans health care and global tactical technical communication. Journal of Technical Writing and Communication, 49(4), 433-457.
Edwards, J. & Walwema, J. (2022). Black women imagining and realizing liberated futures. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 245-262.
Malatino, H. (2020). Trans care. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis.
Mckoy, T., Shelton, Cecilia, Johnson Sackey, D., Jones, N.N., Haywood, C., Wourman, L., & Harper, K.C. (2022). Introduction to special issue: Black technical and professional communication. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 221-228.
Moeggenberg, Z.C., Edenfield, A.C., & Holmes, S. (2022). Trans oppression through technical rhetorics: A queer phenomenological analysis of institutional documents. Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 36(4), 403-439.
Pouncil, F. & Sanders, N. (2022). The work before: A model for coalitional alliance toward Black futures in technical communication. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 283-297.
Ramler, M.E. (2021). Queer usability. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(4), 345-358.
Stardust, Mercury. (2024). Why are carpenters pencils are flat!? #lgbqtqia #DIY #Trans #community [Video]. TikTok. Retrieved from https://www.tiktok.com/@mercurystardust/video/7343007113331117358?lang=en.
Walton, R., Moore, K., & Jones, N. (2019). Technical communication after the social justice turn. Routledge, New York.
Yusuf, M. & Namboodri Schioppa, V. (2022). A technical hair piece: Metis, social justice and technical communication in Black hair care on YouTube. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 263-282.
Allen, L.A. (2022). Handling family business: Technical communication literacies in Black family reunions. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 229-244.
Byrd, A. (2022). Black professional communicators testifying to Black technical joy. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 298-310.
Cox, M.B. (2018). Shifting grounds as the new status quo: Examining queer theoretical approaches to diversity and taxonomy in the technical communication classroom. In Haas, A. and Eble, M. (Eds.) Key theoretical frameworks: Teaching technical communication in the twenty-first century. Utah State University Press, Logan, UT.
Green, M. (2021). Risking disclosure: Unruly rhetorics and queer(ing) HIV risk communication on Grindr. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(3), 271-284.
Green, M. (2021). Resistance and participation: Queer theory’s applications for HIV health technology design. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(4), 331-344.
Haas, A.M. & Eble, M.F. (2018). Introduction: The social justice turn. In Haas, A.M. & Eble, M.F. (Eds.) Key theoretical frameworks: Teaching technical communication in the twenty-first century. Utah State University Press, Logan, UT.
Edenfield, A.C. (2021). Managing gender care in precarity: Trans communities respond to COVID-19. Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 35(1), 15-21.
Edenfield, A.C., Holmes, S., & Colton, J.S. (2019). Queering tactical technical communication: DIY HRT. Technical Communication Quarterly, 28(3), 177-191.
Edenfield, A.C., Colton, J.S., & Holmes, S. (2019). Always already geopolitical: Trans health care and global tactical technical communication. Journal of Technical Writing and Communication, 49(4), 433-457.
Edwards, J. & Walwema, J. (2022). Black women imagining and realizing liberated futures. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 245-262.
Malatino, H. (2020). Trans care. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis.
Mckoy, T., Shelton, Cecilia, Johnson Sackey, D., Jones, N.N., Haywood, C., Wourman, L., & Harper, K.C. (2022). Introduction to special issue: Black technical and professional communication. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 221-228.
Moeggenberg, Z.C., Edenfield, A.C., & Holmes, S. (2022). Trans oppression through technical rhetorics: A queer phenomenological analysis of institutional documents. Journal of Business and Technical Communication, 36(4), 403-439.
Pouncil, F. & Sanders, N. (2022). The work before: A model for coalitional alliance toward Black futures in technical communication. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 283-297.
Ramler, M.E. (2021). Queer usability. Technical Communication Quarterly, 30(4), 345-358.
Stardust, Mercury. (2024). Why are carpenters pencils are flat!? #lgbqtqia #DIY #Trans #community [Video]. TikTok. Retrieved from https://www.tiktok.com/@mercurystardust/video/7343007113331117358?lang=en.
Walton, R., Moore, K., & Jones, N. (2019). Technical communication after the social justice turn. Routledge, New York.
Yusuf, M. & Namboodri Schioppa, V. (2022). A technical hair piece: Metis, social justice and technical communication in Black hair care on YouTube. Technical Communication Quarterly, 31(3), 263-282.
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