I Post Therefore I Am or A 21st Century Writer and Her Digital Self
I am not a "digital native," but I am a digital transplant. I only exist online because I put myself here.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately, as I've finally made Facebook, Goodreads, and Amazon author pages for myself. Suddenly, I go from observing to existing.
I didn't grow up with a digital self - a crafted version of my personality for cyber country. I didn't have consistent access to the Internet until I was twelve, and I didn't have a cell phone until I was 17. It was a Nokia phone with a background of two colors: black and green. You kids might recognize the color scheme from old fashioned calculators and the LCD clocks you find in thrift store bins.
These days, if you don't have a digital self then you don't fully exist in the social sphere. The Internet has become its own universe and social media is where we do the things that used to be limited to shopping malls and night clubs: we walk and talk and flash and greet and judge one another. Instead of giving our elevator pitch to new friends or posing in front of mirrors, we tweet and take selfies. I post therefore I am.
I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with this. Though there may be some detractors - those who don't understand or like change - I am not one of them. I didn't come from the generation that had to adapt late in social development to these new, crazy technologies - but neither was I born to them. Born on the cusp of the Millenial generation, my formative memories were from the nineties (I remember beepers) but my social awakening has, in large part, occurred online.
Those graduating high school right now have, for the most part, never been without the ubiquitous presence of the Internet; they're digital natives. They exist so casually in this atmosphere, while I still have to wear a filter or risk exposing myself for the awkward penguin that I am. And yet, they're in the same generation. Isn't that odd?
I am so used to existing without an audience that navigating social media can be difficult. I understand, now, why stupid tweets by public officials get released. Those who are new to the digital space are not accustomed to having their thoughts observed by others - and certainly not used to those thoughts being shared outside of their immediate social sphere. If I write something stupid online, it's too late - the ship has sailed out into the wide ocean and I can't take it back.
I want to maintain my social media in a way that is meaningful and not merely self-aggrandizing, but it's hard. My thoughts are so self-obsessed sometimes and rely heavily on inside jokes so obscure that I am literally the only one who laughs at them. How can you tweet that sort of thing?
Those who learned everything they know about interaction online, though, are so used to being observed that they put filters on their very existence. They have a leg up on me, that's for sure. So how do I compete? Should I post more cat photos? Is that still a thing? No?
Sigh.
C'est la vie, I guess. Or, rather, c'est la vie numérique.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately, as I've finally made Facebook, Goodreads, and Amazon author pages for myself. Suddenly, I go from observing to existing.
I didn't grow up with a digital self - a crafted version of my personality for cyber country. I didn't have consistent access to the Internet until I was twelve, and I didn't have a cell phone until I was 17. It was a Nokia phone with a background of two colors: black and green. You kids might recognize the color scheme from old fashioned calculators and the LCD clocks you find in thrift store bins.
These days, if you don't have a digital self then you don't fully exist in the social sphere. The Internet has become its own universe and social media is where we do the things that used to be limited to shopping malls and night clubs: we walk and talk and flash and greet and judge one another. Instead of giving our elevator pitch to new friends or posing in front of mirrors, we tweet and take selfies. I post therefore I am.
I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with this. Though there may be some detractors - those who don't understand or like change - I am not one of them. I didn't come from the generation that had to adapt late in social development to these new, crazy technologies - but neither was I born to them. Born on the cusp of the Millenial generation, my formative memories were from the nineties (I remember beepers) but my social awakening has, in large part, occurred online.
Those graduating high school right now have, for the most part, never been without the ubiquitous presence of the Internet; they're digital natives. They exist so casually in this atmosphere, while I still have to wear a filter or risk exposing myself for the awkward penguin that I am. And yet, they're in the same generation. Isn't that odd?
I am so used to existing without an audience that navigating social media can be difficult. I understand, now, why stupid tweets by public officials get released. Those who are new to the digital space are not accustomed to having their thoughts observed by others - and certainly not used to those thoughts being shared outside of their immediate social sphere. If I write something stupid online, it's too late - the ship has sailed out into the wide ocean and I can't take it back.
I want to maintain my social media in a way that is meaningful and not merely self-aggrandizing, but it's hard. My thoughts are so self-obsessed sometimes and rely heavily on inside jokes so obscure that I am literally the only one who laughs at them. How can you tweet that sort of thing?
Those who learned everything they know about interaction online, though, are so used to being observed that they put filters on their very existence. They have a leg up on me, that's for sure. So how do I compete? Should I post more cat photos? Is that still a thing? No?
Sigh.
C'est la vie, I guess. Or, rather, c'est la vie numérique.
Comments
Post a Comment