The rise of social media use has brought about a whole new set of conventions and traditions. Chief among these, surely, are the Obligatory First-Day-Back-at-School Photos plastered all over Facebook.
I admit I am a huge fan of these. I love seeing my friends’ kids dressed in their school uniforms, their little faces full of expectation of the year ahead, with perhaps a bit of trepidation and disappointment that the holidays are over and it’s back to work. One friend commented that this annual photo had to be taken outside the front door, and nowhere else. When was this decided, and by whom, I wonder?
We’ve all been there and felt these emotions after the summer break, but for most of us who grew up way back when these were private occasions, shared perhaps only with the parent who walked us to school, uttering words of reassurance. I don’t recall any photos being taken of this annual event, never mind committed to the internet for the world to see.
This morning I helped my daughter dress into her Matilda costume. A strange choice of outfit for the first day of the school year, but it was the request of Year 3 teachers at the end of last term that pupils should come in dressed as their favourite Roald Dahl character - the thinking being, I guess, that it will inspire them in their literacy project during the coming year. My daughter’s new teacher was, if I’m not mistaken, dressed as Mrs Twit, to the delight of the children waiting for the classroom doors to open.
With red ribbon pinned to my daughter’s hair and newly dyed old blue summer dress put on, we took the Obligatory First-Day-Back-at-School Photo, outside the front door.
‘Parents have to ask permission’
“You’re not going to post it on Facebook, are you Mummy?” she asked. I wondered why not. “I saw a programme on TV yesterday where they said that parents have to ask permission to put children’s photos on Facebook. And I don’t want you to.”
She still wanted to see the pictures of her friends that had already been posted, and wasn’t surprised to find that Year 3 was going to be full of Matildas and Willy Wonkas. But she was quite insistent. I could send it to Daddy at work in a text message, but no one else.
“Are you sure?” I asked again, thinking she might later regret her photo not being among the many others in her class. “Absolutely positive,” she replied.
As adults, and parents, we are all aware of the potential risks of compromising children’s privacy but we still do it. I know people who live out their whole family lives on social media, often to excess. We do these things because everyone else does and somehow that makes it less bad - a kind of safety in numbers.
As I looked through Facebook after dropping her off, I wished I had seen the programme she referred to. It would be good to know more about the context in which this advice was given to young viewers.
For whatever reason - she has not given one - my child has decided not to share a very nice photo of herself with others.
While her decision may be a small act of defiance against our annual tradition, I am more inclined to think that something in that programme has touched and empowered her. She has learned that she can say “no” when it is about her, personally, and has an expectation that her decision will be respected.
It feels like something has shifted in our relationship today, in a small but very good way.
I’ve been reminded that some things aren’t up to me, even when it comes to my child.
I’ve conceded certain perceived rights and handed them to her. Or rather, she has taken them from me for herself.
I feel glad - proud even - that she feels empowered, and I respect it. And in future, I won’t be posting anything without her consent.
Dorothy Lepkowska is a freelance journalist and writer. And a parent.
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