Every Screen Has Two Sides

"Secrets, secrets, are no fun! Secrets are for everyone." The individual who came up with this cute catch phrase could never have been so right, but they also could never have anticipated the application to one of the most defining problem/success of this generation: social media.

Secrets may be fun for the taunting, but the potential for people to cause harm toward the subject of the subject shoots through the roof when social media becomes the platform for this form of cyberbullying. In an article by The Economist, the most prominent form of bullying has shifted away from the bully on the playground who stole kids' lunch money to the person or people who preserve their identity online. The industry of anonymous social media sites and platforms sprouted in the mid-to-late 2000s when VC firms invested in inklings that later transformed into multi-million and, for some, multi-billion dollar customer bases. One example is Yik Yak, a challenge that many school have had to deal with, the Glenbrooks included. Yik Yak is a location-based site where one can post just about anything and has an audience of whoever is within a 1.5-mile radius can view. It became a hotbed of gossip and slander and has caused many students--or victims--to seek help from guidance counselors. Clearly, there is a problem with the anonymity factor in this case. Especially for teens, the concoction of being able to keep oneself secret--which functionally erases common bounds of morality and conscience--and having secrets of others to share, a great deal of harm can be done. However, is anonymity all bad?

Contrary to popular belief, there are always two sides to the screen. There is certainly a case against the traditional social media platform like Facebook, that actually centers around ego, vanity, and the concept of a profile: the image one architects for the rest of the world to see. Little do most users know that what they don't see is equally if not more important than one of their friends' or followers' profiles. By hiding secrets, which are what we are in the end, a false or distorted image has the ability to make others feel quite bad about themselves (see video below). In this article, the case is made that given the fact that this same focus on vanity, that has even driven people to suicide, people are more likely to come forward and make themselves vulnerable. I an interview, the CEO of a booming company (that pioneered the application known as Whisper) pulled up a screenshotted conversation between one girl, who shared that she was going to inflict self-harm, and another girl who talked her down anonymously. Granted, we must put this situation in context ad look at the application holistically, but it is important to recognize the alternative impacts that secrecy can have.

After all, we are more inclined to share secrets with those we don't know with the comfort that there isn't, theoretically, a way for those secrets to be traced back to our thumbs tapping the screen in little text boxes. Drawing the distinction between whose secrets are being shared, however, does teach us the valuable lesson that coming forward with our own secrets can go as far as to save us, but sharing those of others before they are ready can do the exact opposite. Secrets, therefore, should by no means be considered playthings and need to be treated as even more fragile when posted where they can't be erased.

Pssssst.

Yeah, you.

I may not be close enough to whisper in anybody's ear. Nonetheless, here is where I will tell secrets. They won't only be my own. In fact, I will also document some of the secrets shared with me that are pertinent to this blog, I will delve further into some famous secrets that have already been uncovered in history and literature, and I will explore the parts of our psyches that clamp down on to information on others that could potentially increase their vulnerability.

What's so funny about secrets is that, especially in the present day and age with the exposure of the "dirty details" technology is capable of, secrets are right in front of us all the time.

Just ask somebody like Jennifer Lwarence, the beautiful 24-year old star featured in the background of this blog on the Vanity Fair cover. Up until about five weeks ago, she was one of Hollowood's straightest arrows (yes, arrows, like the ones she is known for shooting with deadly accuracy in the Hunger Games films). Scratch that, she still is one of Hollywood's straightest arrows. She is articulate, she is a human rights activist in many media and she has opted out of the Hollywood talented-actress-to-superficial-screw-up metamorphosis, which is astoundingly rare. Anyways, I digress; just over a month ago, there was a breach of security of Lawrence's iCloud account, where she had nude photos stored. Without spending too much time deciding whose fault it was for the nude photos being leaked, the hacker's for leaking the photos or Lawrence's for having taken them in the first place, these photos were meant to be secret. And that secret getting out, judging by her lack of public appearance for an entire month, had very real consequences which Lawrence must now contemplate how to face.

Readers, you and I tend to get so wrapped up in the idea that having someone else's secret empowers us and puts the subject of the secret at a disadvantage. The same secret that empowered the blogger degraded lLawrence. The same secret that empowered Edward Snowden ameliorated a nation,s confidence in the leaders there to keep them safe. In a nutshell, a secret is a form of story; as one of my favorite authors, Chimamanda Adichie (who penned a New York Times bestseller titled Americanah and whose TEDTalk can be found here) said, "stories can be used to malign a [person], but they can also be used to empower them."

I'm about to make myself vulnerable to illustrate this point. I am a closeted gay high school/soon-to-be college student-athlete. You're probably saying to yourself, okay? What gives? Well, I say closeted because that means that you are among the select few that know my secret. If any one of you were to send an email to the kid who I've sat next to in classes for three hours a day for the last three school years telling him I liked dudes, he would be in for quite a shock. The teammates I've changed next to in locker rooms for years would also be quite surprised (probablyn less from the fact that I'm gay and more because I haven't found them attractive enough to hit on). In that sense, you have a lot of dirt on me. You have power. Go ahead, feel good about that.

This story I have just shared with you is just one dimension, or story, of the many of which I am comprised. Your wielding of that power could cause rather sobering social challenges for me to face. That being said, I feel a significant burden has been lifted knowing that I'm not continuing a practice I call "untruthing" (not lying, but not being forthcoming with people because I haven't been ready until now). The people who lay eyes on this blog are the only people in my life who I have totally "truthed" to. Stated alternatively, you will be the first people in my life who I have not untruthed to. I trust you. I find that pretty empowering, and I hope you do too.