The oldest artifact of my digital existence was a photo from when I was 11 in 2009, living in Montrose. After a day of groveling, my sister agreed to help me make a Facebook account. The kids at school were talking about it and I, a proverbial loser at the time, wanted to fit in, even if I didn’t know what a Facebook even was (or what the internet was at all, really).
My sister, my baby niece and I posed for what would be my first-ever profile photo, taken on our laptop’s built-in camera. It was perfect. The first order of business was to send out friend requests to everyone I knew at school, both my actual real-life friends and people with whom I wanted to ingratiate myself. After a few requests were approved, I moved on to my social singularity event: Announcing to the world that I have transcended into a digital existence through my first ever post.
wtf is Facebook
Genius.
Cameron LeBlanc, who at the time was largely regarded as the most popular kid in school — so cool that during our music class’ talent show, he did an abridged crossfit routine to Falco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” — commented on my post.
if u were at school i would be able to answer ur question
The blasé approach to capitalization. Blatant disregard for periods. This guy was the real deal and he just left a comment under MY post. I debate today if it was a good or bad thing for my social standing that I missed school on Aug. 26, 2009. Regardless, I was hooked. But before I could leverage this newfound connection, my sister reclaimed her computer and booted me from her room.
The next day, I got some computer time again and I wasted no time following up on my viral post from the day before. The pressure was on. You’re only as good as your last post.
homework sucks
I had done it again. Cameron was back in the comments. Agreed, he said. But this time a new development.
i finished mine like a minute ago(: ahha
That was Tyra Amaya. She had heterochromia and my bleeding heart. Did she comment because she likes me or because homework elicited a strong response from my peers? This at least confirmed my suspicion that she knew who I was. That can only be interpreted as a good thing, no? What’s my play for tomorrow? Do I bring up this fateful encounter or play it cool and slow? What’s the etiquette for commenting back on her post? Just to let her know I got the message.
I can’t remember what I did and there’s no digital evidence of my response, but I do know I’ve never stopped going online and I’ve never stopped caring about what other people think.
The next day I thought I became god.
now have myspace facebook and twitter
I’d done it. Collected more profiles and more platforms. Clearly to me, if Facebook was so critical to our grade’s social hierarchy, clearly having other platforms would skyrocket you to the status of social elite. MySpace even had a top friends list so you knew where you stood amongst your cabal. It was the go-to place for the latest rumors and gossip. I amassed a very humble handful of friends online. Things were coming up Hec. And then in seventh grade, I moved towns.
April 11, 1947. Jackie Robinson made his debut in the MLB. April 11,1970. Apollo 13 launched towards the moon. In 2010, I posted for the first time after moving: rifle isnt that bad
Montrose is better, Cameron responded.
Just like that my friends list went from a collection of my closest friends and grade school powerplayers to a list of ghosts who I’ll gray in their memories a little more each day until I’m just a name with no face.
Depending on who you were, my posts were either from the kid that moved away and the new kid at school. Both a known commodity and an unproven asset. Digitally alive and dead. Schrodinger’s Hector. And thus I was exiled to the annals of history, forced to rebuild my empire from scratch, one new friend at a time.
These were the early days of my journey trying desperately to express myself, not through normal social conventions, but through the curated, intentional medium known as the internet. Especially in grade school, presenting myself was hard. Even today, the idea of what I want to say is clear in my head, but the words to formulate the thought come to me all at once. But on the internet I can take time to think and choose the right words. Though I didn’t know it at the time, going online and posting and commenting and even playing Farmville, I was understanding myself and letting others understand me. It’s because of the internet I became a writer, but I wouldn’t make that connection for at least another decade.