When my daughter gets old enough to be curious about such things, she's going to type my name into a search engine and she's going to discover (if she doesn't already know) that her dad lives a pretty open life on the internet. Her mom too. I've been blogging in some capacity since 2005 and I've been writing for publication for even longer than that.
Between old newspaper archives, blogs, Facebook and Twitter, I've left a pretty sizeable digital legacy. And I sometimes stop and think about what it will be like for her to find that.
It's not all pretty. I've never been one to self censor, particularly in my more youthful blogging days when I wrote with a more punk rock mindset coupled with the self righteous streak that so often defines someone who just left university so who clearly has all the answers to everything. I swore a bit (I still do). I called people out. I generally made strong opinions well known — something that also carries on today.
But I also feel like I can defend it all. Sure, my mindset might've changed a bit but I always wrote from a place of passion and I've always tried to attack issues and viewpoints, not the people that hold them. I've been passionate but I (hope) I haven't been mean.
I encourage you to take a few minutes and look back over your digital legacy too. Look at the comments you've left on Facebook. Look at the things you've tweeted. How would you feel if your kids found them and read them? Because they will. And we sometimes forget that.
My daughter's going to learn a lot about her mom and me when she decides she wants to. And while I may have some explaining to do when she finds the old band pictures or the caffeine-fuelled rants against the Bush administration. But I like to think she'll also be able to respect the person she meets.
I hope you feel the same.
If you enjoyed reading and thinking about digital legacies you might also enjoy "How to Stop Your Kid From Being an Online Asshat" and "The Digital Parenting Manifesto"
Printer-friendly version