I wanted to share with you the inspiration for my previous post, about our on-line selves representing more accurately who we feel we are. I had intended to include this story in the post yesterday, but the blog somewhat got away from me and by the time I realized my point, it sounded much better without the example, so I left it out. But I still want to share it, because, to me, it's an interesting story.
As I confessed, I was, long ago, addicted to IMing. Once upon a snow day my freshman year of high school, I found myself with a free, unobstructed day for pursuing my hobby. While browsing profiles on MSN Messenger, I came across a boy from my area around my age (I will admit, sadly, that the opposite sex was my preferred specimen for on-line chatting - in fact, I formed quite a friendship with a boy named Duncan from England who had a penchant for staying up late to chat - but this is way off-topic - see how my blogs just get away from me?). Anyway, I started chatting the lad up (the one from my area), only to discover he went to my high school! Not only that, he was a freshman as well and turned out to be none other than the star of the freshman hockey team - a big deal to most freshman, but I wasn't a fan of hockey at the time and definitely thought this guy to be somewhat of an idiot - before that day anyway.
Before I go on, I must explain the dynamics of my high school. It was not quite the caricatured ensemble of stereotyical cliques found in most teen angst films. Yes we had jocks and, yes, most of them were cool. Yes, we had nerds - but contrary to popular belief, the nerds were not the smart kids. Or, not completely. We definitely had a smart-nerd group (ie, quiz bowl), I have a close friend in that group who is proud to be so, thus I'm insulting no one by establishing that. But then we had the group of the REALLY awkward, socially inept who were neither smart (at least not abnormally so) nor athletic. And then there were the Honors kids - the smart kids who weren't in the cool crowd, necessarily, but didn't really care to be, either. And we definitely weren't in the socially awkward group, either. Each of these groups (plus a smattering of others) happily coexisted next to each other, one not really bothering the other (the popular kids didn't even bother with the unpopular, not even to bully them - they didn't care), and sometimes offering the free-floaters who easily transitioned from one group to the next - popular and smart and a jock . . . you know who I mean.
So, anyway, back to the story. This guy I found on-line was definitely a member of the athletic crowd: popular, cool, with a head as big as a hot air balloon (and just as empty) - or so I believed. And as I said, I was smart, quiet, stayed out of the way of others and was glad to do so. Then one day we met on-line and talked for about two hours about all sorts of things - we watched the Ricki Lake show simultaneously and made fun of the melodrama unfolding on the talk show stage. This hockey jock thought I was funny and interesting, and I, surprisingly, found out he was, too, and he had depth - go figure.
My life not being Pretty in Pink, this alternate universe did not last long. In fact, when we saw each other in school the next day, it was back to life as usual. We stuck to our crowds, didn't acknowledge the other person in the halls - never spoke of the day again - never spoke at all again. And, yet, I will always remember that day when I discovered that even though I may think I'm so different, better than someone else - my prejudices are most likely so inaccurate that the person I'm judging is actually just like me when one whittles away all the stigmas, applied categories and social facades. Interesting.
I must also note that I was first attracted to my husband through his blog - by reading the inner-workings of his mind I found a man I could love. I'm not sure I would have ever seen this side of him prior to marriage had I not run across his on-line journal. And although we lived on the same campus together, the majority of our relationship unfolded on the internet. That's what makes this social networking era of the internet age so fascinating - the stripping down of our outer selves - the ones we work so hard and so long to build up - leaves us feeling much more free and open - and yet when we leave our seat in front of the computer screen, we feel the need to zip ourselves back up and continue to pretend. Fascinating. Just fascinating.
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