Between Prviacy and Pedagogy

The combination of studying the social theory of privacy and the looming onset of my work as a teacher is causing me to agonise over aspects of my cyber footprint. There is nothing negative about me written on the internet, and by my own estimations, I've not produced anything particularly unsavoury. The problem is that 'my own estimations' will need to be de-prioritised, focusing more on how others receive me, if only to give me an easier ride as a young teacher.

Teachers have traditionally been seen as the flagbearers of morality, which is quite contentious for those who, for whatever reason, fall outside the bounds of convention. This could be expressed through religion, sexuality or subculture, for example, but could also relate to more stylistic aspects of selfhood, like whether you have tattoos, how you wear your clothes and so on. A tattoo is not revolutionary, but from my experience at least, it is 'unteacherly'. We live in a society that is far more pluralistic and individualistic than the teaching population represents, largly because it is felt - at an almost taken-for-granted level - that teachers are meant to behave in a particular set of ways. These expectations include professionalism, but move beyond that into personal lives outside the school.

The prospect of soon being a teacher got me feeling self-conscious about what I had written and my considerable cyber footprint. For one thing, I am going to be changing the name of this blog very soon in order to remove my name from the content. Nothing I've written is unsavoury but it is a matter of whom I am comfortable seeing my thoughts.

My original intention for this blog was to publicise it widely, but I decided against this in favour of making it a personalised talking shop, with self-referential comments that most people reading this - friends and acquaintances and their friends and acquiantances - might understand or at least appreciate.

I stand by the points I have made about children drinking alcohol and the need to mobilise against homophobia, but these comments were written in the context of an anticipated liberal thought-sharing environment. Not to say that the school communities won't echo these values, but simply, I wouldn't want to feel that I was obliged to defend these views as though I was a spokesperson for a nihilistic ethics or an egalitarian worldview. I will surely be expressing these values, but I wouldn't want to feel obliged to do so, as a result of my cyber footprint being understood as statements of my intentions, as declarations of my politics or as battlecries for justice.

I've got some pretty good stuff in my cyber footprint. Volunteering awards and creative writing, published articles and charity websites. Lovely me. But somewhere in the depths of the internet, I know there is a website I made about my love for the muppets when I was about 11. There was a cringey sports website we made for our basketball team. There are really bad instances of poetry. There are grammatical mistakes which now shame me. There are ill-thought out view points. There are hyperbolic responses formed from the ash of the heat of the moment.

The problem I am facing pertains to how this cyber footprint relates to me. Should it be understood as my constituent parts? Or is it more like an archive, its merits understood within its context? If the cyber footprint is to be inspected by future employers, should I be wanting to trim off all my more embarassing and retrospectively regrettable contributions to the internet, in order to appease some imagined other who will have certain expectations of me, or else should I attempt to maintain some integrity by keeping it all there?

It's difficult.

Facebook and your Future Selves

This was originally published in the paper edition of Varsity on the Friday 5th November 2010, issue 728. It can also be found here, on the Varsity website.

I was one of those textbook, weedy, milksop boys whose misspent childhood was spent in the glare of television screens. Borne mostly out of overexposure to WWF wrestling (before the panda-huggers re-appropriated their acronym), as a nine year old I started to fetishize tattoos as symbolising a forceful masculine identity.

But when I got to the age at which I could legally get one, I found myself unable to; it wasn’t that there weren’t any designs that I liked, the problem was that unshakeable obstacle of foresight: would I really want that tattoo as a young man or as a grey scale pensioner? A similar thought process ought to be on our minds as we negotiate our precarious existence in Cambridge. We must ask ourselves the question: how accountable are we being to our future selves?

When Nick Clegg was an undergraduate at Robinson, he had some dalliance with Cambridge University Conservative Association. Whilst this isn’t altogether surprising given his puppetee/puppeteer relationship with the Prime Minister, it must have proved quite embarrassing for him as he climbed the ranks of the Liberal Democrat party machine. But of course, he wouldn’t have known then what he would become in later life; and nor do we.

In the Facebook generation, we are all the more constrained by our present when thinking about our futures. So as you stagger your way to Gardies dressed in full black tie, and you gurn in joyful vinolency into your friend’s SLR, remember quite how permanent that image is going to be. You might lose contact with that friend; just next week he could sleep with your girlfriend and you could become determined enemies. Cambridge is famed for its elitist grasp on the professions and the higher you climb, the greater the fall. What if you become one of those dowdy, pontificating Conservative MPs, arguing about the problem of binge-drinking youths in 30 years time? What if your snap-happy friend becomes a journalist?

With Facebook, we actively diarise our every whim, every thought and every activity, and these facts, which we disclose freely ourselves, are out of our control as soon as we press ‘send’.

How lucrative a trade would some conniving young Cantabrigian forge if he befriended us all and saved copies of those compromising pictures, made copies of all those political and religious slurs you have aired all over your status and noted which events you have attended!

All he would have to do is wait for you to enter the professional world and the power he wields could be immense – a future prime minister could be jelly-wrestling this May Week, an aspiring head teacher could be brought down in later life by the pictures of him dressed as a Nazi guard in a bad taste bop when he was just a starry-eyed Fresher.

Our generation is more accountable for its actions than any previously. Whereas public figures today can explain away the deviant foibles of their youth by talking euphemistically about having a ‘full university experience’, we shall not be spared such liberties. It is all documented. Every uploaded photograph, every blogpost, each tiny tweet has the potential to rain down a torrent of shit on you in your professional life depending on which path you take.

Be you Tab Totty, be you parading in Champagne decadence or be you shagging your way across the sticky dancefloor of Cindies, keep in mind that you don’t know who you and those around you will become.

The Presentation of Self in Facebook Life

Almost exactly a year ago I wrote about how the posters you put up in your bedroom carry symbolic meaning, making each choice a message. If you were to put up one poster, that one poster can be considered a singular representation of self - a cultural message specifically selected in order to communicate a message.

The same can be said of Profile Pictures on Facebook; to further allude to Goffman's work 'The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life', the profile pic can be considered as part of the personal front and any individual social actor (Facebook user) must choose an image through which they are initially represented. True, users have many pictures but that one picture is the one chosen above all the rest as the representamen of the self.

I will be looking through the odd smorgasbord that is my own contact list to see what sociological trophies I can unearth.

1 - Smiling
It seems too common sense to really question it, but when people want to represent themselves to a potential new acquaintance, such as over Facebook, on a first date or at a job interview, it is in their best interests to be smiling. This smile need not communicate anything essential about one's mental state or one's actual happiness - rather, it is a signal of intent; specifically, the intent to communicate amicably. Whether the individual is alone or with others in the image, they are likely to be smiling. From my contact list, the only time people have images of themselves not smiling as their profile are when the mouth is obscured by alcohol bottles or in art-style photographic pouts.

2 - Coupling
Those facebook users who are 'In a relationship' tend often to be in the profile picture with the other half of their partnership. This is a show of unity and a public declaraton of the relationship status. And if there is not a relationship between the individuals in a photo, it remains a show of solidarity. The image capturing the two together, when made into a public profile image, is a publicisation of the friendship.

3 - Political
As a Labourite, I have a number of political types among my facebook friends and the display picture becomes a billboard for cyberspace activism. Through the display picture, political messages can be broadcast - at present, among my friends, a number have replaced an image of themselves with the words of a given cause; protesting against the government cuts, 'Keep Calm and Carry On' and so on. Also, with Ed Miliband having been elected, a number of friends have display pictures showing themselves alongside the new party leader - the message this carries is two-fold, at least: both that the individual is in support of Ed and that one has been in his company. This, in itself, carries the message of social competence and the dalliance with the power ranks.

4 - Actions
Some of the profile pictures are not 'posed' photographs which might well have been taken specifically with Facebook in mind, but are action pictures showing the user 'doing something'. This could be wielding a baby from a disadvantaged country, thus indicating that he or she has been to Africa/India and that he or she does charitable things like that. A similar psychology underlies images interacting with the camera in front of notable landmarks or sites of beauty - the message shows what the user has been doing in their free time and thus they become subject to the touristic gaze which reduces geographical space into tiny, boiled down adjectives. An image beside the Eiffel Tower conveys the emotions of Frenchness - the romance, the accordion etc. Sat cross legged outside the Taj Mahal - inner peace, the ruminating voyager etc. The activities people show themselves doing illustrate how they wish, first and foremost to be seen. Scanning through I see instances of powerlifting tournaments, motorbiking, riding a horse, having sponges thrown towards oneself by disadvantaged children, powerboating, kissing a seal post-taxidermy, being interviewed on TV... each instance the individual conveys something of themselves through their chosen image.

5 - Children
This one is more of a post-scriptum, but it is particularly interesting to see the facebook self-presentation of children and teenagers, whose identities are, theoretically at least, in greater flux than those of adults. I only have a few kids on Facebook and those that are do seem to follow some or all of the above - certainly the smiling. In case you need reminding, my dissertation is on expressions of young masculinity and my Facebook friend requests unearthed an interesting thining point. An 11 year old boy from a primary school I have worked in has added me - I can't accept as I'll be going back to the school, of course - but his profile picture is a testimony to boy's inevitably fruitless pursuit of an adult masculinity. He stands before the camera, in a photo I presume he took of himself, with his shirt off, flexing his muscles with a fierce look on his face. And it is farcical, quite funny but also tragic - boys strive for the raw masculinity they see in action films (I know that seems overly reductionist, but among most boys I've worked with, the brawny physically dominating body is the one they aspire to). But an 11 year old boy will never achieve that; hence, the boys will contort their scrawny bodies into the caricature of what they think 'masculinity' is. And, of course, this fierce powerful masculinity, as their display pic, becomes the image of themselves they wish to project to all.

The Problem with Posters

Homerton College's accomodation is like Barratt Homes meets Ikea, and is as close to mass production as Cambridge colleges get. The new buildings in which all freshers, and most other students on campus, live are very non-descript. The interiors of the rooms are all the same - the only difference between rooms is whether the bed is on the left, or whether the desk is. It's quite stifling. So people try to personalise and the quickest and easiest way that we do this is through posters.

But the problem with posters is that they aren't just decorative but they are communicative. The posters you choose to put up may have symbolism themselves, but by the fact you have chosen it, you are adding your own message. A picture of Barack Obama being inaugurated is symbolic itself of the progression of African-Americans and of democracy, and of hope. But if I put this image on my wall, it has the added message that I support his politics, I consider myself a democrat and so on.

In my room at the minute, I have only one poster, a very small one, which is directly facing you on the back wall as you enter. It is of Billy Casper from the film Kes, in the iconic 'two fingers up' pose. My own meaning for this poster is manifold - Kes is inextricably linked to Cambridge for me, quite paradoxically. The essay I sent in with my application was about the Sociology of Billy Casper's Failure, which I have since posted on another blog. I am studying Sociology largely thanks to a very good, dedicated teacher I had for A level, and he too was slightly obsessed with A Kestrel for a Knave. In a quite excessive way, it is a comment on my own background and success, compared to young Billy. And another, more profane reason, is that it is a fantastic iconic image, but not one that is too popular.

But if you look at the picture, and its place in the room, it gives off a very different message. For those who maybe haven't seen the film Kes, they are faced with a slightly grim black and white image, at face-height, which is pointing two fingers at them as soon as they enter the room. It's hardly any wonder that fewer people are coming to visit me in my room this year - I am effectively telling them to fuck off as soon as they enter.

But my main dilemma is this - I have a large wall to fill and I want to have one poster and one only. To choose it though, is to choose the one biggest message that I will give to anyone who enters my room. I wanted something literary and found a collection of vintage book covers of pieces of great fiction. One of my very favourite novels was amongst them - Lolita. As much as it is a great piece of fiction, and again a very iconic image, I would effectively be saying to guests, of all the things that I could use to represent myself through the reshaping of my living space, I chose a 14 year old girl sucking a lollipop coyly. So Lolita will not adorn my wall. I want some art, but I don't want to appear pretentious so nothing too highbrow, else people will think I'm trying too hard. But at the same time, I don't want to conform by having Daffodils, or Guernica, or that photograph of the workmen sittig on scaffold in New York. In fact, I want none of those many New York images that people seem to like if they are never realistically going to visit the place. Something to oggle might be nice, a talking point - having said that, I don't want a nude lady from classical art on my wall. Since people don't see me as being interested in art, they might presume I'm debasing what ought to be a high culture into a base cheap pornography. I could have a nude male, but again, it's sending out overtly sexual vibes and its not the message I want the bedder to receive as she wipes the yoghurt from my desk. If I were to choose something, it would have to have a meaning behind it, but nothing too realistic - something abstract but not so abstract that it becomes a hollow Foucauldian simulcrum. Difficult eh?

To buy one poster to decorate your room is one of the most taxing activities for the identity - we think of ourselves as complex, changeable, fluid and in a constant state of flux. We are many different people effectively - I'd be happy for some of my friends to see Lolita on my wall, but if my grandparents came to visit - less happy. My grandparents think of me as a different person to the one my friends see.

The poster is less a physical item than a symbolic one - rather than being static it communicates and interacts. To shop for posters is like clicking a drop down list of one word personality traits and choosing the one that best represents your concept of self.

And for that reason, my wall remains bare.