In high school, I jealously watched my older sister on her laptop. She was on Facebook, a network exclusively for college kids. I couldn’t wait for college — if not for the freedom, then definitely for the college e-mail address that would grant my entry into the elite Facebook club.
Fast forward four years, and the world is on Facebook. When Facebook extended its membership to high school students, my friends and I gladly canceled our MySpace accounts and made the switch. When my 12-year-old brother logged in, I was miffed, but I put him on limited profile and moved on. When my friends’ hip mothers picked up on the trend, I ignored my pangs of annoyance and begrudgingly accepted their requests.
Now, my mom is begging me to let her create an account. Though I appreciate her asking my permission, I will deny her until I am 40. When my 80-year-old Grandma Hilda popped up as a “Friend I Might Know,” I lost it. What happened to my prized Facebook world, my online playground of funny photos and last night’s inside jokes plastered on my page for my friends and I to enjoy, away from the prying eyes of our nosy relatives?
What was once the addictive toy for college students has become the entire world’s new pastime.
Friends of mine have recently disabled their walls, made their pictures private or even removed their surname from their account, all in an effort to preserve their personal lives. We know that employers check out job applicants on the Internet. We must be responsible, but censoring ourselves makes Facebook lose part of its entertainment value.
I keep my pictures classy, avoid crude remarks and prevent anything even slightly offensive from surfacing on my Web space, but the online perks of adolescent life are over. What was once a simple, social networking tool for students has become a database exchange for professors, parents and even children. Social networking is now public networking.
