The beast behind the screen.

"Nobody likes you."


The words flickered across my phone screen.  They sat there from an unknown number.


Ugly words, aren't they?


To me they say a lot about the speaker.  The words were designed to hurt, tear down, make someone doubt her contributions in life.


As an adult, I can deal with that.  I know that not everyone will like me, but I'm plenty secure enough in my own worth to laugh at this pathetic attempt to bring me down. 


But it didn't stop there.  You see, this wasn't intended for me at all -- it was intended for one of my children.


What does that do to our kids?  During an age when social acceptance means so much, when they are navigating the world of figuring out their place, their style, their voice, how do we expect them to have the maturity to deal with nameless attacks?  How do we give them the confidence to find their voice and know that words like are worthless?


Especially when the attacks that may be the reality of what they fear the most - that they have nothing to contribute.


We've all heard the adage - "Sticks and stones may break my bones . . . "


But words CAN hurt.  Words have power.


Somehow I feel that with all of the benefits that social media brings to our table, it also invites a new kind of monster.  It allows people to say or do things that they would never do in public.  It allows a new kind of screen to hide behind.


I was witness to this on Twitter this week.  Many nearby districts decided to cancel school because of extreme cold.  Ours didn't.  Now I like a good snow day as much as the next person.  It a gift because all of the sudden a large load is lifted off of my plate and replaced with something unexpected.  However, I also know that our superintendent will make his best call for the district.  My voicing of the fact that I wanted to have an unexpected day off would do nothing to his decision.  In fact, it was a little selfish on my part. 


The pleas started early.  When he told them that we would have school on time (actually we opened early to make sure no one was left out in the cold, busses were started early, etc.) it started to get ugly.  It became a mob mentality - who could outdo the last post.  The Twitter community was on fire - names were called, relationships were hurt.


As if bullying the superintendent would change his mind.  It didn't.  We had school.  I had a great day with my students.
 
So how do we face the monster we are creating?  The fact that people can "lose their filter" when it comes to posting something for all to read?


As an adult, my first responsibility is to look at my practices on-line.  There is little I can do if I don't follow my own advice.  Do I post things that are designed to hurt, designed to encourage ridicule, designed to make someone else feel "less than" me?  If so, that has to change.  After all, it is personal to someone.  We all have moments that we don't want chronicled and broadcasted to the world.   Instead I choose to encourage.


Even if it is a stranger - the stranger has important contributions to share with the world.


As a teacher, my responsibility is to teach my students about digital citizenship.  What they post has the potential to be out there forever.  They live in a world that is so different from the one I grew up in -- when I fell on my face in high school, only those around me saw it.  Today it could be shared with the world - open to the comments of strangers who delight in judging behind their screens.  Today students navigate pressures from many sources - a stupid decision can linger.  This makes it more important than ever to examine consequences of on-line bullying.


After all, every student adds a unique contribution to the world. 


As a parent, my responsibility is to help my child navigate on-line situations.  Conversations are important.  As much as kids may complain about talking about their day, keep having conversations.  Listen.  Then when something comes up, they have a place to go.  Share books with them that deal with problems, read with them, discuss what you think the protagonist should have done in that situation.  Love them.  Remind them of this often.  Share perspective - will this be important in 5 years?  10 years?  Does this person mean something to you?  From that point you can help your child see possible solutions/perspectives.


After all, your child is important to the world.


As a human it is my responsibility to remind myself that I cannot control the actions of others, I can only control my reactions to things.  Therefore, I will choose to not post in anger, choose to post in a positive tone (as much as possible), choose to be respectful, and choose to be a source of joy.  When make mistakes (and I will), I choose to apologize, choose to make amends, and choose to learn from those mistakes.   The hardest part for me is this last one -- I choose to not give power to others through comments that are designed to hurt, belittle, or steal happiness.


Because I matter to the world as well.