By Steve Mayer
In a disheartening commentary on our times, a recent issue of Rolling Stone Magazine featured an article entitled “Sexting, Shame and Suicide.”
The piece documented with candor the last tragic days in the life of a high school freshman. After becoming the unwitting subject of an intentionally cruel series of electronic photos and text messages, life had become so unbearable that she took an unimaginable and irreversible step. She ended her life.
With age, most of us have come to understand that the old saying “sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me” is not true, but the digital age has heightened the weight and permanency of our words.
“Public and permanent,” the two P’s, have become a regular part of our school-wide lexicon. From the moment they pick up a smartphone, log on to a computer or access an iPod we teach kids that nothing in the digital world is temporary (not even a Snapchat that “disappears” within 10 seconds of its receipt). Every word that is texted, every photo that is sent, every website browsed becomes part of a permanent record that has far more reach than the information we keep in a child’s cumulative school folder. The stakes of mistakes are higher than ever because no text or photo is ever safe from those who may choose to use it for harm.
I write this column not as a critic of the digital world—or as one who shies away from electronic communication—but as one who embraces the benefits of connectedness while grieving the loss of a time in which kids could make mistakes. When I was a kid, we could get away with things. We could sneak out of the house, get into a fight, use poor judgment or misrepresent the truth without any possibility of someone posting a photo or sending a text that would immediately put us into hot water with parents and school officials.
It was often through these mistakes and missteps that my peers and I learned our most valuable life lessons. While the current level of connectedness opens avenues for adults to help keep kids safe, it has also resulted in a loss of innocence and a world that has become intolerant of childish mistakes. Since none of us will navigate life mistake free, I worry that the consequences of mistakes are too often too high for our kids to bear.
Shortly before her death, the young lady featured in the Rolling Stone article tweeted, “I ruined my life and I don’t even remember it.” Her mistake was attending a party, where, while intoxicated, her “friends” took and distributed inappropriate photos of her. This young lady’s poor judgment opened the door for others to demonstrate even poorer judgment when they took it upon themselves to humiliate and demean her on the permanent record.
Their taunts and hateful messages became an inseparable part of the young lady’s life. Her mistake became her defining moment in life—and in death. As I read the article, I found myself outraged at the insensitivity of her peers; those who used texts and photos to demean someone so bitterly, to tear at the heart of humanity in the cruelest of ways. My outrage quickly turned introspective, however, as I reflected upon the ubiquity of negative blogging, anonymous posting and destructive texting, as well the continual barrage of negativity portrayed by our present-day media, which has come to represent much of the landscape in the adult world.
Instead of modeling respect, admiration and decency, I fear that we are becoming desensitized. I worry that we are losing our way in a world where concern for self trumps concern for others.
So where does that leave us? We may need to consider the three pronged criteria my late grandmother gave me for saying or writing something: “Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary?”
It would serve us well to keep in mind that whatever we text, tweet, Instagram, post or blog must meet at least two of the three prongs or it should be left out of the permanent record. The use of these simple criteria may well lead to a more civil world. And if it catches on, we may discover a new generation who will use technology to build up rather than tear apart, to hold healthy debate and to address—not create—real problems.
If this becomes public and permanent, we all win.
Steve Mayer is superintendent of Robbinsville schools.
