Dissonance
I've been going to three-day workshops for training in the company philosophy. There are 17 people in my group (which stays almost the same from week to week), some from my office, and some from as far away as Quebec, New England, and Indiana. There are cool effects I'm seeing from such a broad range of backgrounds and locales coming together, which I'm going to post about in the future.
I still don't really know a lot of the people who are there (though I did better this week than last). Tonight, one of those who I don't know well just friended me on Facebook.I'm kind of a loudmouth in the class, so I think people might know me better than I know them. I suspect valacosa can sympathize with this situation.
There's a significant level of ... discomfort, I guess, associated with this for me. I have no problem with this guy; he seems intelligent, polite and friendly. There are other people who I've friended who I don't know particularly well; that's not the issue either, though it does contribute. I'm also sanguine with my social spheres overlapping. I tend to be pretty friendly at work, and plan to invite several of my coworkers to my housewarming party (there aren't many big beefy guys at work, so I don't think I'll invite any of them to help me move, unless we become better friends quickly).
The problem is that I strongly associate Facebook with childish attitudes. I think through most of my childhood, I've perceived keeping track of other people's friends to be a juvenile practice, often associated with the petty politics of the schoolyard. Even though Facebook has lots of practical "adult" (I'll explain my use of the term in a moment) uses, like mail, event co-ordination, and distribution of contact information, the lack of privacy has always made it feel like a kid thing. When I decide not to attend Video Games Live! everyone knows it, with the assumption that people will make decisions based on this information (i.e. "I really wanted to go, but my really good friend hates him, now that I know he's not going, it's safe for us to go."). The third-party transparency of it seems to stray into other people's business, and that sort of thinking belongs firmly in the "childish" category for me.
That doesn't entirely mean I eschew it. After all, I'm still on Facebook. I have issues with using it for mail (realistically, it's got all the functionality of 90's era e-mail, but with so busy an interface as to be frequently unusable on a spotty or slow internet connection), but I have been in who's-got-more-friends contests, and I do send pokes from time to time. I've got a real dissonance between the kid and adult parts of my life. On the one hand, I build popsicle-stick bombs, bring Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day to my office, whisper in class, and think about what I'm going to do when I grow up. On the other hand, I work basically a Nine-To-Five job, think wearing a tie to work is important, plan how to fit grocery shopping and laundry into my weekly schedule, and watch for the best opportunity to take advantage of the stock market.
It is worthwhile to note that I don't consider an "adult" life to be superior to a "kid" life. When I talk about childish behaviour here, I'm talking about stuff that kids do, rather than stuff they should grow out of. I plan to hold on to both of these sides of my life, to some extent. And even the stuff they should grow out of often serves a purpose at some point in development, I'm sure.
The dissonance comes out of the overlap of these two perspectives on the world which I have not yet been able to justify with each other. I get the same thing every time I refer to my coworkers as men and women. Referring to them as such means that, since I'm more or less their equals, I too am an adult, even though I very much think of myself as a kid. It's not as bad as it was a year ago, but it's still a source of awkwardness for me. When I'm at work, I often feel like an impostor, like people will describe me as "precocious".
I just noticed the "Adult Content" drop down, when I spell checked this. I feel an urge to select "Adult Content" for the perversity of it.
I still don't really know a lot of the people who are there (though I did better this week than last). Tonight, one of those who I don't know well just friended me on Facebook.I'm kind of a loudmouth in the class, so I think people might know me better than I know them. I suspect valacosa can sympathize with this situation.
There's a significant level of ... discomfort, I guess, associated with this for me. I have no problem with this guy; he seems intelligent, polite and friendly. There are other people who I've friended who I don't know particularly well; that's not the issue either, though it does contribute. I'm also sanguine with my social spheres overlapping. I tend to be pretty friendly at work, and plan to invite several of my coworkers to my housewarming party (there aren't many big beefy guys at work, so I don't think I'll invite any of them to help me move, unless we become better friends quickly).
The problem is that I strongly associate Facebook with childish attitudes. I think through most of my childhood, I've perceived keeping track of other people's friends to be a juvenile practice, often associated with the petty politics of the schoolyard. Even though Facebook has lots of practical "adult" (I'll explain my use of the term in a moment) uses, like mail, event co-ordination, and distribution of contact information, the lack of privacy has always made it feel like a kid thing. When I decide not to attend Video Games Live! everyone knows it, with the assumption that people will make decisions based on this information (i.e. "I really wanted to go, but my really good friend hates him, now that I know he's not going, it's safe for us to go."). The third-party transparency of it seems to stray into other people's business, and that sort of thinking belongs firmly in the "childish" category for me.
That doesn't entirely mean I eschew it. After all, I'm still on Facebook. I have issues with using it for mail (realistically, it's got all the functionality of 90's era e-mail, but with so busy an interface as to be frequently unusable on a spotty or slow internet connection), but I have been in who's-got-more-friends contests, and I do send pokes from time to time. I've got a real dissonance between the kid and adult parts of my life. On the one hand, I build popsicle-stick bombs, bring Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day to my office, whisper in class, and think about what I'm going to do when I grow up. On the other hand, I work basically a Nine-To-Five job, think wearing a tie to work is important, plan how to fit grocery shopping and laundry into my weekly schedule, and watch for the best opportunity to take advantage of the stock market.
It is worthwhile to note that I don't consider an "adult" life to be superior to a "kid" life. When I talk about childish behaviour here, I'm talking about stuff that kids do, rather than stuff they should grow out of. I plan to hold on to both of these sides of my life, to some extent. And even the stuff they should grow out of often serves a purpose at some point in development, I'm sure.
The dissonance comes out of the overlap of these two perspectives on the world which I have not yet been able to justify with each other. I get the same thing every time I refer to my coworkers as men and women. Referring to them as such means that, since I'm more or less their equals, I too am an adult, even though I very much think of myself as a kid. It's not as bad as it was a year ago, but it's still a source of awkwardness for me. When I'm at work, I often feel like an impostor, like people will describe me as "precocious".
I just noticed the "Adult Content" drop down, when I spell checked this. I feel an urge to select "Adult Content" for the perversity of it.