Research produces and shapes theory; conversely, theory generates hypotheses for research to test.  Thus, theory plays an important role in the research enterprise whether the research is library-based or empirical.  Theory often provides the stimulus to do a certain research project; and when the project is complete, its findings must be shown to refute, support, refine, or have no effect on the theory that set the research project in motion.  (MacNealy, 1999, p. 11)

While I have contemplated my own reasons for blogging through my trauma and have begun thinking about how to incorporate the principles of trauma theory into my writing, the Internet's constant ebbs and flows still overwhelm me.  How should I choose my examples when so many sites have changed since Hurricane Katrina hit?  For some scholars, analyzing commercial web pages like Katrina.com, Yahoo! and Craig's List, which in August and September of 2005 had been temporarily revamped to be spaces to contact and locate hurricane victims, would be a logical place to start.  However, this exercise would bring me back to my communications breakdown since it was those sites that could not offer locals what they most wanted–substantial and specific news about their neighborhoods and homes.  Because those commercial sites do not tell the evocative stories that I prefer to hear, I plan to examine those blogs that do. 

Having now met several New Orleans bloggers, both online and in person, I know interview and survey research will be viable methods for me to rely upon, but considering the topic at hand is one that asks people to remember specific details about a harrowing time, I am hesitant.  Whatever I do choose to do (perhaps relying upon anonymous online forums so participants can experience less anxiety when responding to my questions), I still need to be able to define my methodology so that it considers the complexities of both the internet and trauma studies–both the body and the mind. 

If I may return to a brief discussion of trauma theory, many Freudian enthusiasts would argue that talking face-to-face would offer trauma victims the most relief; however, Bessel Van der Kolk, whom I am basing most of my interpretation of trauma theory upon, would disagree.  Leader in the field of psychological trauma, Van der Kolk's work ranges from studying the nightmares of war veterans to learning the practice of Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), a process which led him to conclude (as cited in a Psychotherapy Networker interview with Mary Sykes Wylie, 2004) "that it was our bodies, not our much-vaunted minds, that control how we respond to trauma, what we do and don't consciously remember, and whether we recover from it or live in thrall to it."  Trauma is no longer just a mental health issue; Van der Kolk believes, "Victims are the members of society whose problems represent the memory of suffering, rage and pain in a world that longs to forget" (as cited in Wylie, 2004).  Thus, he asserts the traditional "talking cure" of Freud's time is not enough; the body is connected to the mind.  Van der Kolk reasons the connection as follows: 

When people get close to reexperiencing their trauma, they get so upset that they can no longer speak.  It seemed to me that then we needed to find some way to access their trauma, but help them stay physiologically quiet enough to tolerate it; so they didn't freak out or shut down in treatment.  It was pretty obvious that as long as people just sat and moved their tongues around, there wasn't enough real change. (as cited in Wylie, 2004)

Although his theories have been controversial because of the moral concern they posit as well as their incorporation of neurobiology, they are cutting edge in the field of trauma studies and most applicable to my notion that New Orleans evacuees who went online for information were relieved–at least marginally–from the anxiety caused by the disaster, the television media's coverage of it, and the harsh reality they face now as they attempt to rebuild their homes. 

To some, my association of Van der Kolk's work with the idea of evacuees finding ways to embody themselves in order to find relief online may seem far-fetched.  However I am confident in making this connection after reading the story of Van der Kolk's accompanying FEMA officials to Puerto Rico after Hurricane Hugo hit in 1989.  Indeed, it was that trip allowed him to see firsthand the link between body and mind to recovery from trauma.  In the passage that follows, he writes of his time there:

"I arrived in the middle of this devastation, and what I saw were lots and lots of people working with each other, actively putting their lives back together–carrying lumber, rebuilding houses and shops, cleaning up, repairing things."

But the FEMA officials immediately told everybody to cease and desist until assorted bureaucracies could formally assess the damage, establish reimbursement formulas, and organize financial aid and loans.  Everything came to a halt.  "People were suddenly forced to sit still in the middle of their disaster and do nothing," Van der Kolk remembers.  "Very quickly, an enormous amount of violence broke out–rioting, looting, assault.  All this energy mobilized by the disaster, which had gone into a flurry of rebuilding and recovery activity, was now turned on everybody else.  It was one of the first times I saw very vividly how important it is for people to overcome their sense of helplessness after a trauma by actively doing something.  Preventing people from moving when something terrible happens, that's one of the things that makes a trauma a trauma." (as cited in Wylie, 2004)

This passage relates to a Katrina evacuee's circumstances in so many ways it is hard to find a place to begin an analysis.  And per my research, while these Puerto Ricans were not seeking a computer to tell their tale of angst with FEMA, it is clear that they felt better when they were physically doing something just as many Hurricane Katrina evacuees and transplanted New Orleanians like myself felt relief when we turned the televisions off and went online to inform others, find information, organize animal rescues, or ask for assistance.  We trusted that once we put our SOSs out there in cyberspace that eventually someone, anyone, would read it and do something, even if that something was just a text-based reply. 

So, in order to validate this connection between body and mind, my research methods have had to evolve due to the immediacy of the web.  I plan to rely upon Christine Hine's (2000) principles of virtual ethnography–intermittent immersion, acknowledgment of the work as a partial (never total) look, and the foregrounding of reflexive experiences–in order to discuss my choice of examples that ultimately intend to illustrate that no one is rendered physically helpless with Internet access.  Specifically, looking at blogs written by New Orleanians since the storm has become the best strategy for my dissertation.  Assessing these first-person testimonials may be problematic because of how subjective words like "identity," "reality," and "community" are, especially online.  But with a growing understanding of trauma theory, I now believe those New Orleanians using digital tools such as blogs and wikis to "work through" their trauma are less inclined to suffer from bouts of post-traumatic stress disorder. 

No matter if they are narrating their daily experiences in post-Katrina New Orleans or organizing community-rebuilding efforts, their opinions are available to both the reader and blogger 24-7.  That immediacy offers instant relief to so many, particularly in this post-postmodern world so connected by text and visually-enhanced communication systems.  Also, due to the nature of a blog being published in reverse chronological order, the reader, reflective blogger, and researcher all have access to seeing the progression of feelings about the recovery situation.