I am leaving Facebook. It is with no small amount of sadness that I say this. Like most of us, I came to use Facebook as a way to hear from and about those of you that I don’t get to see every day. Some of you are family. Some of you are old, dear friends from high school. Some are the first adult friends I ever made at University. Many of you are on the other side of the world from me, in Australia, New Zealand and Japan, among other places. Many of you are the best friends I never met, from the old X-Philes Anonymous message boards from the 1990’s, with whom I was miraculously able to reconnect here. (As Dorothy said to the Scarecrow, I think I’ll miss you most of all.)
It really did feel like a miracle, to find so many of you fine people here again. Imagine: not having to wait for a college reunion or a high school newsletter (or an “X-Files” anniversary!) to hear from you and to see what you all are up to. It seemed like it was worth all the other nonsense just to see what art was being created or what your grown children were filming, or creating, or achieving. It was worth all the links to silly memes or to odd videos or to outrageous stories, just to feel like I had a connection, however tenuous, to the lives you were all living, all over the country and the world. It was worth it just to hear from you again and to know that you were all right, and to share your joys or help bear your sorrows.
But things have come to a tipping point for me. The recent revelations from Facebook and from Cambridge Analytica are just too much of an invasion of privacy for me. The lack of moral principle that led to this abuse of personal information is deeply disturbing. The way that Facebook in particular made it difficult to secure privacy has been bothering me for quite a while — why is it so hard to find and change certain settings? Why is the user interface so draconian? — so I find myself in the position of feeling compelled to leave. At the end of the day, all we can do is vote with either our feet or our wallets, and since WE are the product on Facebook, that leaves only walking away.
So, in no particular order — Dave, you were the best friend a lonely kid could ever have, and I don’t deserve you.
Cheryl, thank you for sharing all of the beautiful art you create.
Kathleen, I will miss hearing about Tom and Ben and Ginny, and I will certainly miss your wisdom.
Scarlett, thank you for sharing your amazing costuming creation. I am so jealous of your skills! (Also, I will miss Bun.)
Al, thank you for your friendship these many years, and for the mysteries.
Al, thank you for your friendship these many years, and for the mysteries.
Chris, someday you’ll show me your beach and take me to Hobbiton.
Andy, Paul and Patricia, maybe we’ll see each other at a UVA drama reunion sometime.
Anne, maybe I’ll get to surprise you at a stage door someday.
Jen, I will miss seeing your running triumphs; I still hope one day to actually meet you in person.
Matt, I am so delighted when we get together in person. It's like no time has passed at all. I'll miss seeing you and Cathey's family updates. A lot.
And on and on; I could say something to each and every one of you and this would go on forever. Just know that you are all loved, and you will all be hugely missed.
You’ll still see my running triumphs on Instagram. �� Maybe I’ll have to find a Harrisburg race to come run (just not this year because between Italy and NYC... kiss my money goodbye....). ❤️ Jen
ReplyDeleteThat would be great. We don't have a lot of runs of any kind here -- kinda weird for a state capital -- but I'll keep an eye out down the road!
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