I took a class to fulfil a science credit in college called Earth and the Cosmos. The curriculum covered our planet, the bodies we see in the sky, and beyond. During one of these 8AM sessions, I experienced overview effect: the realisation that Earth is small and I am smaller. The professor called this out directly. I assume he had learned over the years to notice the creeping looks of dread across the faces of tired undergrads. I had not yet developed a caffeine dependence and this man making me have an existential crisis to start my day wasn’t welcome. It was important.
I bet everyone who reads this next sentence will feel exactly how I do. I have a complicated relationship with social media. Now, this next sentence will be more polarising. I kind of hate social media. Sure, I’ve found interesting people, places, and things through it, but ultimately, I get that same feeling I got in class. It all feels so insignificant on this side of the telescope.
Historically, me being on socials is largely out of pressure. Platitudes like “you look sketchy if you don’t have a Facebook” have been the only reasons I’ve stayed on certain sites as long as I have. But just having an account isn’t enough. Being on the apps comes with a whole set of evolving expectations. I’m Texan, so I should express my outrage at whatever Greg Abbott or Ted Cruz has done this time. I’m a woman, so I should spread the word about the latest atrocities against women’s basic rights. I’m anti-gun, so I should be outspoken about gun violence and grieve publicly when yet another preventable mass shooting takes place.
By the time a mass shooting in Texas came around, it must’ve been my time to shine, right? To indulge in momentary cynicism, it felt inevitable; of course this was going to happen, it keeps happening. This writing could have been all about the complexities of growing up in Texas, leaving, then watching it change yet regress all at once. I don’t want to write about that though, not right now, anyway. Anything I could say about this situation would not offer any closure, insight, or change.
There was a time when I would post those things. I admit, there was some catharsis in being publicly outraged. What exactly did it do, though? My audience is small and deliberately limited to people I know or trust; it’s not as if I am spreading my gospel of mutual understanding. It showed people who most likely already know where I’m coming from or agree with me something reaffirming, something that further reinforced what they knew or felt.
I’m not at all implying bringing awareness or visibility to things is pointless, but rather that some things are already apparent, especially to people who look, act, or think like I do. When I take a step back, I realise that this is exactly what I don’t like about socials: I have my bubble and meticulous algorithms are only making it easier to stay inside it. By recommending I follow people who check those boxes (e.g. white, English-speaking, goth-leaning), I’m only getting more comfortable staying exactly where I am, pleading my case to a court that has already ruled in my favor.
You won’t see me post about those things anymore. It’s never because I don’t care or I’m not paying attention, it’s because neither you nor myself are going to get anything out of it beyond being caught in the fallout of the same traumatic events. I would like my relationships with all of you to be built on more varied foundations than commiseration.
Ideally, I would have a solution to neatly tie this up with, but I don’t. I don’t know what to do. So many nights I’ve spent trying to apply my usual problem solving techniques and only coming up with means to treat the symptoms. I’m also grappling with the reality that not all problems are mine to solve, so maybe this just isn’t one. There have been so many times in my adult life I have felt completely powerless, and yet it has never been so simple. I absolutely wield power and I’m getting better at recognising the circumstances in which I can apply it.
I think that’s where I go from here. How can I harness my lightning-like frustration and channel it into the things I do well? Where can I apply it with the highest payoff? It sure as hell isn’t Instagram. It’s somewhere I haven’t found yet. As for my IG, I hope everyone likes pictures of neighborhood cats and garden snails.