Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Who wants her number posted on the boys' room wall? Jenny probably didn't. Trinity definitely didn't. Truly, there's nothing new under the sun...
“For a good time, call: 867-5309 …” My name’s not “Jenny,” but I do know that back in the day, no respectable girl wanted her number on the bathroom stall. Today, the “stall” comes with its own keypad. God help the girl whose number gets "posted." You might as well put it in a song, for anyone to call, for all eternity. If you came of age in the eighties, you’re laughing with me. Sort of. But your stomach hurts, because now it’s our kids we are talking about. The song is theirs, and they-- God forbid—could be the victims of these “posts.” This final story of the “social media” series—it is the one I saved for last. Or is it the one I put off until last, because I knew it would gut me to write about it? When I began this series, a girl …
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
What was once a (comparatively benign) comment on the bathroom wall is now atwitter for all to see. How do today’s teens deal with the exponential nature of such harassment? Many stand strong by using their voices for good.
In this cyber-age, meanness and bullying have been propelled to a whole new level. So how do today’s teens deal with the exponential nature of such harassment? Many stand strong by using their voices for good. Recently, two young women shared their stories with me. I’ve chosen to use pseudonyms, in part to protect these women from further harassment, but also because their stories represent those of countless others. As an eighth grader, Laurel was sitting in art class when a girl said, “Hey, Laurel! I’m not sure if you know but someone made a ‘MySpace’ about you ...” At home, Laurel typed in the link the girl gave her: “Laureleatstoomuch.” What she saw broke her heart and is with her even now, in her college years. "It scarred me to …
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
All of us have a "Life in the Middle" story to tell. Today those stories can be spread exponentially through social media. And I say, let the Voices be heard.
This week, I listened as some young teachers reflected on some of the names they’ve been called lately. Though their conversation was lighthearted, I know from experience that no matter how many times we shake the dust from our sandals and walk on, we still limp just a little from the words that have been hurled our way. Instantly, I remembered the words a student wrote in his journal about me some 20 years earlier, when I was a 22-year-old high school teacher: “Mrs. Noble is a skinny, flat-chested b****…” Though I didn’t share that specific memory in the staff lunchroom, I did say to my young counterparts: “Unfortunately, you will probably remember some of those comments 20 years from now. But try to forget what you can. The words don’t…
