My mother is an incredibly sweet woman. We talk on the phone nearly everyday; she needs the contact to ensure that I am still alive, and I think it is important to stay emotionally close to family. Mostly we talk about small things: plans for the day, what we ate for dinner, my brothers, blah.
Two days ago, in a conversation that was pretty average throughout, I mentioned to my mother that I started a blog. Then I had to explain to her the concept of a blog and my reason for wanting one, which, by the way, is supposed to be a writing exercise to keep me from getting rusty while I await acceptance into a journalism program *fingers crossed.*
Her response was one that I have heard many times, "Oh, uhh, mmm, okay," which I have learned to read as her way of receiving information and beginning to process it. I heard this response during the "Mom I'm moving to New York City" call, the "Moving in with my boyfriend you have never met" call, as well as in the "I started an online journal" call.
The element that ties all of these conversations together is not what happens in the moment of that response, but hours, possibly even days later. I inevitably receive another phone call, which poses itself as another of the average, daily calls, but in actuality is the result of her thinking about my decisions incessantly. She expresses to me in these exchanges her doubts, fears, and general feelings on how ______ will affect my life.
The blog response was a bit surprising, even though I should have expected it, because, in my mind, creating a blog as opposed to moving hundreds of miles away to the big city are two completely different scenarios, requiring different responses. Regardless, I receive this call from my mother in which she informs me, *I have inserted a photo to help your imagination, also read in a sweetly southern accent.*
"The internet is dangerous. You should be careful about who sees your information. A criminal could find you on there and pretend to be someone nice and lure you off to somewhere and steal you. People can lie on there, you know."
My mother views the internet not only as a gateway to knowledge, all at one's fingertips, but also as a way for low-lifes, degenerates, and other generally scummy people to extend their grasp on society, claiming the lives and reputations of "sweet, innocent girls" like me. I responded fairly rationally, because I am an adult *mother,* by explaining the difference between a blog and an online chat room, informing her that anyone with an intense knowledge of the inner workings of the world wide web could retrieve any and all information about me, and her, if they so chose, and assuring her that I was not going to get intertwined with a trap some pervert laid to ensnare helpless, eager teenage girls searching for attention. This calmed her, somewhat, into submission, but she reserved her cautions. And I can understand that for a woman who did not come up in the age of intelligence, and has refused to become a part of this age, it can be scary. I share this fear of the unknown, as well, and admittedly as irrationally.
So, for my mother, I want to insert a disclaimer, of sorts, into my blog.
TO ALL CRIMINALS: I WILL NOT FOLLOW YOU INTO A DARK ALLEY. DON'T EVEN TRY TO CONVINCE ME YOU ARE MY FRIEND. PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE, AND ALSO DON'T PASS OUT MY INFORMATION TO YOUR FRIENDS. THANKS, MANAGEMENT.
2 comments:
hey little girl want some candy? I'll make you famous. you just need to get in my creepy van. that's right. but for real, what's been goin on with you? I might be moving to mass to work at mass moca. really. maybe. but yeah.
its blonde suzy!
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