The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [94]
Naturally teens are bolder in the online cafeteria than they are when face-to-face. Students nationwide told me about Facebook groups devoted to insulting a classmate, much like the I Hate Danielle club. Students at a New York school created a fake Facebook profile for a girl and posted racial slurs and nasty comments about her. Within the first week, the phony profile already had fifty “friends” signed up to make fun of the girl. Certain Facebook applications expand the artillery for kids who want to bully a classmate. Students told me about quizzes that publicly ask questions such as “Does [insert name]’s breath stink?” or “Is [insert name] ugly?” An application called “Friend FAQ” asks people questions about their friends and posts the answers. An eighth grader in the Midwest learned from this application that a friend thought she needed to lose weight. “Facebook can totally ruin people’s lives,” she said.
Indeed, studies have found that the frequency with which teenagers use SNS affects their self-esteem and well-being. At a time when students are most influenced by feedback from peers, sites like Facebook and MySpace serve as constant vehicles for such assessments. Kids can feel pressured to turn their profiles into never-ending commercials for themselves. Remember the imaginary audience discussed in chapter 4? Researchers have said that teenagers “tend to overestimate the extent to which others are watching and evaluating, and, as a result, can be extremely preoccupied with how they appear in the eyes of others.” The problem with online cafeterias is that the audience turns out to be not so imaginary after all.
REGAN, GEORGIA | THE WEIRD GIRL
At the LGBT youth center, Regan approached the volunteer coordinator’s desk to say hello. The coordinator’s eyes lit up when he saw her. “We’re going to have an opening for a facilitator! You’ll be perfect!”
After months of sitting at the front desk, welcoming kids and signing them in, Regan would now be a moderator for a regular girls-only group discussion. The position was ideal for her; she hoped to do something similar next fall, when she planned to teach English at a school in Bangladesh. The school was run by a women’s organization that hoped an education would prevent girls from getting caught up in trafficking.
Regan was especially thrilled about the youth center promotion and her Bangladesh trip because she loved working with adolescents. “I’m really interested in what teenagers have to say. They are an often overlooked demographic,” she said. “They’re sort of idealistic, and a lot of people try to stifle that, but I think it’s important to cultivate that attitude. If we all had the ideas and drive of teenagers, a lot more could get done in the world.”
REGAN’S CHALLENGE
By resigning at the end of the school year, Regan worried that she was leaving many of her students without a teacher to whom they could turn for nonacademic help or advice. She wanted to find a way to leave a legacy that encouraged students to accept people who were different from them. When I challenged her to form a Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA) at James Johnson, she readily agreed.
“I know I’m going to be met with a lot of negativity, but I also feel that a GSA should be available in every high school,” Regan said. She knew what it took to start up such a club; she had founded the GSA at her own Vermont high school. “It’s amazing that, of all people, my demographic of students is completely judgmental of a marginalized group. They are incredibly hypocritical, complaining about injustices due to race, yet calling each other ‘gay’ and ‘faggot.’ School is supposed to be a safe place for all students, and I’d like that to be true.”
Many of Regan’s colleagues were vocally