The "Privacy" Setting

My generation and on has become so comfortable with media sites that we entrust our secrets to companies that promise to show them, share them, & save them to the internet. It is well known that colleges, organizations, and employers are likely to check in on one's social media accounts before accepting or hiring applicants.

Right now, most children are adept at navigating the ins and outs of a smartphone or smart device before their third birthday, but when I grew up, my mother instilled in me a fear of posting risky pictures or comments on my social media accounts. A fear that I feel she was being responsible by allowing it to take root in my subconscious.

The lesson boiled down to this: "Don't post anything that you wouldn't want your grandmother to see." I laughed at the thought while scrolling through my Facebook feed. My grandmother using social media seemed ridiculous. She doesn't even have WIFI. Spending time on Facebook is now her favorite pastime.

While I still had my impulsive moments, I always had and still currently have an awareness, a voice in the back of my mind, that I think has been lost to the normalization of posting one's entire life on social media.

The introduction of "Privacy" settings on these platforms only further lulled my generation into a false sense of security, and by the time I started applying to college, I learned of various methods to disguise one's digital footprint (well... at least long enough to get in).

Tactics of a Teenager

1. Switch the first letter of your first and last name 

*If you have the same letter for both, choose new letters or proceed to 2.* 

2. Change all accounts to a nickname.

3. Remove all relevant information from your bio.

4. Ensure that every setting is switched to the strictest privacy setting.

5. When in doubt, delete.

This education gave me the insight that there are two types of people willing to post risky material to these platforms and here's the divide: those who aren't fluent enough in technology that they trust the promise of these privacy settings and those who believe they are so fluent that they believe they can outsmart the system.

The latter led to the phenomena in particular that I would like to explore called a "Finsta" account. For those of you who do not know this term, a Finsta (Fake + Instagram) is an additional Instagram account that the user creates in order to post pictures that they definitely would not want their grandmother to see. Usually involving illicit substances, racy activities, or ugly selfies, a Finsta is a seemingly harmless way to accidentally ruin your career. The username is normally a clever contortion of the users name or nickname; the profile picture is either an unidentifiable photo of the user or a random image that the user took or more likely, stole from a quick google search; and the bio portion is filled with an "original" quote or movie reference about regrets and memories or rather lack thereof.

These users think they are safe. These users think their wits exceed that of a techie's, who with just a few keystrokes and minimal information could most likely connect the account to the user. The Finsta almost always follows the users original/ main account, which makes an instant connection to the user's main profile. If the person is very careful, only a few close, trusted friends will follow, and have access to, his or her Finsta account and that can diminish the possibility of the content being released. However, it doesn't eliminate it. One screen shot, one accidental post on the main account, can expose the user to damages.

While I'm skimming over the totality of the issue, the gist of my post is this: the internet is a one-way vault that no singular user has the code to. Watch what you put into it because while you can try and hide it, you can't ever fully get it back.

Breaking from Social Media: A Memoir

"Deactivate your account here."
"Are you sure?"
"We're sorry to see you go."

This year, I took the opportunity to become a Gamma Chi, which means that I disaffiliated from my sorority for the purposes of becoming a recruitment counselor.  The most important part of the job-- anonymity. Anonymity? What does that have to do with anything?
Ultimately, I needed to be unbiased. Every girl's preferences are unique to her own experiences, so the sorority that was the right fit for me might be the wrong one for the new girls. When recruitment week finally arrived, I told my friends good bye and packed my bags to go live in the local Holiday Inn with the other recruitment councilors for the week.
Deleting my social media accounts helped me on two fronts: further removing myself from the active member's side of the process and hiding my affiliation from the hopefuls, more commonly referred to as PNMs or Potential New Members.
Twitter was the first to go. Personally, it was the platform I was least worried about losing. While I pride myself on my quick wits, I don't usually find the necessity to post each quip for the public eye in 140 characters or less. I learned later that once I deactivated my account, it was gone for good. Well... as "gone for good" that the internet can provide.
Facebook was the most difficult to deactivate logistically. I hopped from page to page before finally finding what I was looking for. I also used Facebook as a method to login to third party platforms, so I had to figure out which accounts might be affected by the change. Unlike Twitter, Facebook kindly saved my account information and let me reactivate the account at a later date.
Instagram played by different rules. I was only required to delete the "Bio" section of my profile as long as I set my account to "Private" mode. I could neither like, nor comment on any post, but I still had access to my feed.
In the beginning of recruitment, I didn't know any of the other Gamma Chis. Most of my friends were members of a sorority, so I felt very isolated by my lack of ability to communicate with them. Confined to a hotel room with three strangers, I felt an urge to bury my nose in my phone. I noticed myself killing time through browsing Instagram and relying on the platform like a crutch to fill the awkward silence. While I did branch out and become close with many of my fellow Gamma Chis, I can't stop myself from remembering the connection between that momentary feeling of isolation and the instant urge to connect via social media outlets.
At the end of the week, I felt liberated. I no longer reached for my phone out of need or boredom. Rather, I sought real human connection. And while I am happy to engage in these platforms again, I think I believe I will repeat a digital detox every year. It's important to be able to take a step back and acknowledge the impact social media has on our everyday lives.