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Remember when we used to forget?

Posted by Heather under Life and junk. | Tags: technology, friends, respect, family, Facebook |
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Adam was trolling Facebook the other evening (as usual) when I noticed a picture of myself on the screen.
“What is that?” I asked. He said his aunt recently posted a picture of me on her Facebook page — a picture I emailed Adam’s mom by request. Why his mom forwarded the picture to her sister, and why the sister then chose to post it on her Facebook page, is absolutely beyond me.
“There are lots of photos of you on here,” he said. I could hear the smirk in his voice. It was a dash of salt in my wound.
I’ve withheld opening a Facebook account for  years, and, for the most part, my friends have respected my decision (although they never stopped pleading).  But now I learn they have gone ahead and posted photos of me online, anyway, without asking or telling me?  According to my (albeit limited) memory, two of my friends have ever asked my permission before posting photos of me online. Two. The rest have done so under my radar. Which is shady.
It’s not that I’m a paranoid weirdo. This blog serves as proof that I’m more than willing to divulge the ridiculous minutia of my life with total strangers online. I don’t have a problem with oversharing! And it’s not that I’m boycotting Facebook simply for the fuck of it;  I’ll freely admit that Facebook can be a useful tool in one’s personal life.
It’s that one of the biggest benefits of the Internet is also one of its biggest downfalls: its vast memory.
The Internet is as close to a permanent national archive as we have. Something haphazardly and thoughtlessly posted online can live for years and years (the Library of Congress recently announced it is sorting and archiving all public Twitter posts since 2006), can take on a life of its own (see: Star Wars Kid), can grow and morph into something completely unintended (do yourself a favor and study up on Kate’s Party) — and can have dire consequences.
As a journalist, I understood at a relatively young age how staunchly one needs to protect one’s good name; when you attach yourself to an essay or news article or photo or essay or opinion or even a simple online comment, you are opening your entire life up to boundless criticism.  As a blogger, I am constantly aware of that fact. I do not flatter myself into thinking I have thousands of online blog readers, but I also do not delude myself into thinking I am anonymous. At any given time, anyone could stumble upon this blog, re-post something I wrote without much thought, and suddenly, my words will take on a weight I never intended.
That’s why I don’t really want random photos of me floating around on Facebook: be they of a drunken party evening or a day at the lake or an innocent backyard barbecue, those photos could be seen by anyone, taken out of context and turned into a weapon that will live forever and ever. Those photos could very well become my legacy, and I’d like my legacy to be in my hands, thankyouverymuch. I know that’s not entirely possible, but I’d like to believe that at least my friends and family would understand — and recognize– that wish.