A couple weeks ago I was reading You Are Not a Gadget by Jaron Lanier. Lanier asserts that before a person endeavors to interact with the online community and other netizens, they need to not only know who they are, but need to know how to retain their own weirdness so that they can avoid creating an online persona that simply fits within the templates that already exist online. Retaining our weirdness is not only what sets us apart from others, but it is also what drives the online sphere forward in an organic way that defies the rules set in place by software.

So how do we encourage children who are, thanks to interactive games such as Minecraft and Roblox, becoming a stronger online presence? How do we encourage them to retain their weirdness and avoid the templates that have been preconstructed? My son has spent hours studying the onscreen habits of the gamers that he idolizes. When he talks about gaming, he mimics their speech habits and gestures. I asked him recently to tell me who he was and his immediate response was “I’m a gamer!” After explaining the difference between the thing that you do and who are at your core, as a human being, he didn’t have much response. I did however give “empathetic” as an example of a descriptor and he laughed out loud, “That is NOT me!” I have to agree. He is not much for empathy. I consider it progress that he recognizes this fact about himself, without anyone having to point it out.

I grew up in the 90’s, wandering all over the city with my friends sans cell phones. We didn’t use Google to do our homework and we still had to call our friends on the land line if we wanted to meet up. If you were really lucky, your parents had two phone lines so that when you used the internet your Mom didn’t freak out when the dial up screeched in her ear while trying to call your Grandma. For me, the 90’s were a time of great music, increased freedom and puberty. It was also the decade where online interaction became a real thing. I frequented chat rooms, learned how to delete my history and flirted with guys in glamourous far off places like Finland and Singapore. I didn’t really know who I was, but there was also a certain thrill that came from either creating an online persona that I could try on just for a while. I also appreciated the times when I could vomit my reality into words and send them off into space. Sometimes I got an empathetic response, sometimes not. Everything was pixelated, bright and slightly off. Bugs were normal and we brushed them off. I like how Jon Westenberg describes the internet of the 90’s in his short essay The Internet Is Allowed To Be Weird. Why I Love Tumblr:

"Things were definitely wilder and weirder. The internet that I first fell in love with was a weird place. It was full of animations and glitches and bad design and it felt a little like the inside of the Grateful Dead's brains." 

I don’t feel that same uniqueness anymore. Yes, I now have access to thousands of apps, free software and YouTube tutorials. But I miss the weird. I miss being able to BE weird on the internet. Now I have to run my words through a dozen filters based on who may or may not see what I am posting. My online identity is watered down and basic. By the time I run through my filters, be it familial, political or employment related, my online persona has become fluff. If I were color, it would be ecru. It is so bland, that even beige is too out there of a color. I have lost my weirdness. I mourn my weirdness. The only weirdness I have retained is my talent for incredibly awkward summary paragraphs. I suck at those.

As What About No? progresses, I am struggling to balance this for my children. Modeling a behaviour is the best way to pass on a behaviour, but I have caught myself many times turning down an idea based on how it runs through my filters.

Do I want my kids to know that the filters exist? Yes. They are not all bad filters. Filters are necessary. However, they should not filter to the point that they no longer recognize themselves online. I would rather they be the creators of templates.