Privacy podalanga! — that’s probably what my parents would have said when I was a teenager, demanding that my privacy be respected. Such concepts did not exist then. Secret diaries were read, phone calls with boys were interrupted by a third voice asking ‘What are you STILL talking about?’ and God forbid if there was a FLAMES with a strange boy’s name at the back of your Math notebook! But really, that was the worst of it in the 90s.
Today, things are different. My middle schooler and his entire grade are ‘hanging out’ with each other online - playing games, chatting and earnestly building what they think are YouTube empires. I won’t lie, the temptation to snoop is tremendous. As a parent, it’s a mixed bag of emotions: fear for his online safety, worry over what he may be exposed to and concern regarding bullying. And of course, towering over all these concerns is the biggest one of all: CURIOSITY. Just what ARE the saying to each other?
My own digital journey started when I was almost an adult. Because the digital world didn’t exist before that. However, our children are digital natives, and they’re going online younger and younger. So, of course we should be there supervising what they’re doing. But do we have a right to read what they tell each other?
The other day I was messaging someone on my phone, when my son walked by, did an about turn and asked ‘Are you reading my messages? You should respect my privacy okay?’ I won’t lie, I wanted to tell him that as long as he was living under my roof, eating my food and using my phone, privacy did not exist for him. But I didn’t. I explained that I was chatting with my friend and not snooping. But I used the opening to chat with him about online bullying, inappropriate content and not talking to strangers. He listened very patiently and then told me that there were top secret ideas for a YouTube channel that he didn’t want getting leaked. It was very hard not to snort and roll my eyes at the same time. But I managed. You’d have been proud of me, dear reader.
I’m grappling with all of this to be honest. Do I really have to respect my 11-year-old’s need for privacy? And not just online. Why does he have to shut the door to his room when he’s playing? Sure, the dog might eat his Lego person’s head, but is that a good enough reason? So, we agreed that I’d get to read his messages till he’s old enough. I’m saying 30, he’s saying 16.
There are always signs your children are growing up. The pants you bought them four months ago don’t fit anymore. Captain Underpants is a little silly now. And so are Captain Underpants’ underpants. They’ll tell their brother about things and not you. And they would like you to knock before you enter their room, thank you very much.
It’s hard. But then there are always workarounds. One, always keep channels of communication open. Two, keep the younger brother on your chocolate chip cookie payroll and they will sing like a bird. Three, drown your sorrows in that cookie jar.