When I first learned about the Dakota Access Pipeline and
the efforts of the Standing Rock Sioux with the help of hundreds of indigenous
activists, it was not through the mainstream news, local or national. It was
through native photographers and artists I follow on Instagram; these
individuals were posting with the intent to spread awareness, incite outrage,
and spur a call to action. This worked in their favor, and eventually the press
was called to North Dakota to cover the situation, which in turn resulted in
national media coverage. This turned the tide in the court battles for a time,
until the 2016 election occurred, and turned back all that exposure and progress
with a gaudy signature on an executive order. We often forget that rather than
projecting an image to the world, we can do more with our individual platforms,
and do real good with them.
At 25, I can remember the Pre-Internetaceous Period, a time where
8-year-olds devoid of cell phones brazenly stomped through the grass and
outdoors like the Tyrannosauruses of millennia past. I hate to sound like a dinosaur
myself, but it really was a simpler place in our living timeline. This isn’t
necessarily a good thing, though. There’s a reason why simple is a synonym for
ignorant, and the Internet and social media are antidotes for that symptom. We
are exposed to information at such a rapid pace that in order to slow it down,
we get to decide what we want to consume. This seemingly limitless source of
information is now accessed by these unsurprisingly woke new children of the
Webaceous Period, characterized by 10-year-old Neanderthals who have “Class of
3028” proudly emblazoned in their Instagram bios.
The insights we get from others are based solely on the
information they present and the image they try to maintain; whether we can intrude
on that is up to the poster. Everything is an illusion, and for many, that
illusion is fragile and incredibly difficult to maintain. MySpace was just a
simple networking site, home to one’s IRL top 8 friends. Then, through amateur HTML,
it became the place to carve an identity for oneself, a tool to become someone
different. Then came Facebook, which wanted a real name and a real job
and a real school. Then that changed,
when anyone could make multiple, often fake, profiles. Anyone watch Catfish? The 2016 election? Eventually,
in walks Instagram, which was primarily for photography. Then it became a
powerhouse human marketing tool, selling lifestyles too good to be true but
still seemingly accessible with the right amount of FaceTune.
My point here is that no matter what comes next in the world
of social networking, the social responsibility will inevitably be lost to the
importance of social imaging. We want to be seen as cool, unique, exciting,
interesting, and fun. But get a glimpse behind the screen and we all have that
same double chin as a result of watching Netflix on our laptops in bed.
