Self-Censorship
September 12th, 2007“First I should say that I hope I don’t get in trouble for this. My teachers have been known to stumble upon my blog every now and again…”
That’s how I started off a post I made on Sunday. Is it too terribly ironic that within hours of my posting “Educational Complaint No. 839,” the very teacher whom the post concerned found my blog and read that post? It’s ironic in a very grim, depressingly perfect sort of way. I should have realized he’d read it when our assignment the next day was listed as “Assignment No. 839,” but I missed that little hint. It took until today, when that teacher held me after class and spoke to me about being disrespectful for me to have that classic “Oh, crap…” moment.
My teacher was offended that I did not come to him with my concerns first. Unfortunately, he must have missed the “Rant” category I placed the post in. Rant is defined as “extravagant speech,” and I use it as a way of venting emotions that are building up inside of me - regardless of whether the resulting thoughts are coherent, my rants are not meant to be scholarly pieces of social criticism. Likewise, a rant criticizing an educational policy should not then suggest that I see no merit in that policy, nor should it be taken entirely seriously. It is an emotional piece of writing, not an essay. Thus, there was never any need to approach my teacher about my concerns - I knew very well that, given a week or two, I would adjust to the grading system I had been criticizing.
I do however find it inappropriate for a teacher to approach me about what I’ve written on my personal blog. Admittedly, whatever you post on the internet is susceptible to be read by anyone, anywhere, at any time - but the dynamic between a teacher and a student has some guidelines about personal boundaries that should not be crossed. My theatre teacher, for example, created a Facebook profile a few months ago, “Just to see what it was all about.” When we were talking about it, he specifically mentioned that he wouldn’t attempt to friend any of his students - not only would he not want to see some of the things his students were putting online, he knew that it would make many students uncomfortable to feel as though teachers were invading and watching over every aspect of their lives. That’s what I’m beginning to feel online after this incident. I shouldn’t feel like I have to censor myself online because a teacher could see it at any time (this is actually similar to people being nervous about employers checking myspace pages for incriminating photos, except that I’m not doing anything illegal or indecent here).
This brings up the question of how exactly my teacher found this site (it is, after all, quite a coincidence that he stumbled upon it within hours of my post). I know some teachers have found me by a simple Google search for “Michael Strickland” - though specifically searching for your students online is rather creepy. The rest probably found it through either my Poverty Diet podcast or my piece on Tracking (the latter of which has apparently become very popular amongst the CHS administration…). That’s all well and good - but to keep visiting it? That’s just as creepy as those who searched for me by name. There’s a fine line between “teacher” and “friend” - and certain things that go with those two types of relationships just can’t apply to both.
So I refuse to censor myself. This blog is written from the perspective of a seventeen-year-old gay high school student who likes Photoshop and writing. And as Marijean Jaggers once wrote in a comment on this blog, “There’s no room for blogging as anybody but you.”
By the way, I’m labeling this one as an essay, not a rant. Just so things are clear.
