Facing Up to Facebook

It’s political pot-shot season, so in the spirit of fairness I feel compelled to retract some of my own biting rhetoric aimed at Facebook.  Yes, Facebook is eroding the social skills of our children and perhaps us in the process.  True, there is a suspicious lack of concern for our privacy and identity.  It is forcing me (albeit with my consent and some help from the First Amendment) to stomach objectionable hate speech from a few people in my network.  Although Facebook can be smarmy in a big-brother sort of way, I confess apologetically to enjoying many of Facebook’s benefits. 

For one thing, it bridges the miles and the years.  I left my home town at the age of 17 and rarely returned, even spending my summers since sophomore year in Boston.  I tried to keep in touch with a few dear friends, but even the closest relationships suffer over time and distance.  When I was planning my wedding, it took a true act of espionage to track down my bridesmaids.  Today, cellular networks make it cheap and easy to place a call; twenty five years ago long distance bills were our single largest household expense.  And even though I love the “art of the letter” as much, if not more, than anyone, I am lucky to be able to write a few timely thank-you notes each year.  Alas, the trials of family and career preclude constant contact with more than a handful of friends.  Without Facebook, I could certainly survive without being able to share photos and foibles with elementary school classmates, but I am thankful for those who make the effort.  My life is enriched by keeping the connections and shared memories alive.

One of my favorite Facebook features is the photo album.  I am a shameless poster of photos of my kids, and I appreciate those who do the same.  What is more fulfilling than beaming over our children, laughing at the persistence of DNA and the way it expresses itself?  Many of my former classmates are becoming grandparents; I love seeing life renew itself and the happy glow it brings to the gently weathered faces of my lifelong friends.   I also live far from my own twelve nieces and nephews.  Facebook allows me to be a fly on the wall in their lives as they play football or baseball, get crowned homecoming queen, dress for the prom, and march in a graduation procession.  Of course, this is a double-edged sword.  In my college days, my parents did not have knowledge of how I spent my Saturday nights; nor could they get easy access to pictures.  It takes a lot of restraint when you can see scenes of your children doing who-knows-what with who-knows-whom at college.  I would rather sleep comfortably in my delusion, imagining them camped out in the library burning the midnight oil.

Facebook can also be practical.  On more than one occasion, a friend has reached out blindly through Facebook to ask for help (raising money for a good cause, recommending a good hotel).  For example, I keep in contact with the daughter of a close friend because she is a gifted musician whose developing career I follow closely.  She put out an appeal to her musician friends for help procuring a harp to rent in Paris.  Because I caught this on my newsfeed, I was able to put her in touch with another close friend who restores and rents harps, making him well dialed in to the manufacturers and suppliers worldwide.  He made a few suggestions and turned out to be a great resource for her.

Even more incredible was the role Facebook played in the aftermath of my father’s sudden death.  I was at the airport bound for California with my daughter for a fencing tournament when we received the sad news.  I had made prior arrangements to visit with my cousin while we were out West, but with time changes and complex logistics, I had no easy way to contact him.   I was busy pulling baggage off one flight and trying to get on another, while also trying to get my son, a college sophomore in a small town in Oregon, to Miami in time for the funeral.  (When I reached him, he had not yet gone to sleep from the night before!)   It was a crazy day.  As a sort of “hail Mary” play, I posted a status notice on Facebook and sent a message through to my cousin.   A few hours later I was on my way to the airport for the second time that day.  As we were changing planes in Atlanta, my cousin caught me on my cell to inform me that he would also be on a plane for Miami.  It turned out that we were able to spend our weekend together after all, however not in the way we had planned.   

Where Facebook is concerned, there is much to whine about.  I did not consent to Timeline, and objected to having the format thrust upon me.  However, I am starting to understand the rationale for the new design.  It is a wiser use of the screen’s real estate, simplifying the organization of activities.  I deplore the integrated apps and the way I get sucked into participation.  It bothers me that I cannot tell whether an app that I ignore is still taking liberties with my personal information by virtue of being “invited” by one of my friends.  I also hate that my tastes in reading and music, or my participation with a specific app can be broadcast widely unbeknownst to me.  No one needs to know what I am reading, and I do not wish to be a tool for advertising any features.

One thing is certain, that we are all fumbling around learning the politically correct way to interact with the big elephant in our lives.  We invited it in, and now it is here to stay.  Whatever it peculiarities and annoyances, it has made my world a bigger—and therefore—a richer, place.