CHENNAI : Last week, the Internet got its y-fronts in a twist over a mother’s Instagram post. Yes, that happens a lot. In the post, a parent blogger wished her 6 year old son happy birthday before going on to wonder why, of all her children, his posts on social media performed ‘statistically’ the poorest. She went on to ask the Internet to like his post because he deserved the likes and then added a p.s wondering how she would explain this lack of approval from complete strangers on the Internet to him when he got older.
Because likes don’t matter. (But please like this post.) And you thought Ranveer Singh’s light-strobing kitty shoulder pad was disturbing. Of course, this confession was met with immediate outrage. Even Chrissy Tiegan took two minutes off from being funny and gorgeous to say ‘Oh.My.God. What the hell?’ And you thought Ranveer Singh’s light-strobing kitty shoulder pad was disturbing. Of course, this confession was met with immediate outrage.
Even Chrissy Tiegan took two minutes off from being funny and gorgeous to say ‘Oh.My.God.What the hell?’ Now, as someone who writes a weekly column about parenting in which her own children feature regularly, I realise that I too am guilty of putting my kids out there under the harsh glare of the Internet. Many times when I’ve sat down to write something about my children, I think about the possible fallout of sharing this information and how they’ll feel if they read these columns years from now. I’ve often gotten joking comments that my kids will kill me one day.
Or sue me. Which is worse. In the new age of social media, parent blogging is no longer sharing honest struggles about raising children and trying to stay sane. In version 2.0, we, our bookshelves, coffee tables, wardrobes and yes even our children can become part of curated shop windows. Posting gorgeous pictures of children in a field of wild flowers or videos of them being sassy and cute can make you enough money to start that nest egg for their future college education.
If your kids are cute and sassy anyway, why not make money off it right? Story. My younger son doodles and sometimes I take pictures of the doodles post on Instagram. If he knows what I’m gong to do he will immediately ask me to wait, will ‘improve’ his doodle, and then will want to review the photos before choosing which one I can post. Now, this may seem weirdly cute, but it’s actually weirdly disturbing. My son has somehow learned about projecting perfection on social media, and assimilated that he must put out the best image of himself to the rest of the world. Social media is wonderful in creating feelings of inadequacy, jealousy and self-loathing.
Why would I want to pass those feelings on to my children? Again, as someone who profits from writing about aspects of her children’s lives, the ambiguity aro und this topic doesn’t sit well with me. As social media creeps into our lives more and more, we must think long and hard about how much to expose our children to it. And how much to expose our children on it. Our bookshelves may be a commodity. But our children aren’t. (And no, the irony that I will share this column on a social networking site once it’s out is not lost on me.)