LIZZY WARNER
Gargoyle assistant editor
Posted Friday, April 11, 2008

WITH THE RISE of the Internet comes a quicker way to get information, to communicate, to shop, and an easier way to access entertainment (including things such as playing online computer games and watching an assortment of homemade videos).

At the same time, though, with such access we've become expected to develop a new level of censorship, caution, and maturity. Things online are completely different than those "in real life."

In real life, when your friend pushes you into your secret crush and you're overcome with embarrassment, it's OK to turn to her and say, "I'm so going to kill you!" She knows that you won't literally take out a gun, but more so, you're extremely flustered with her.

But then you're online. And instead of making you trip on the back of your crush's brand new tennis shoes, she posts a comment declaring what a cute couple you would make on a MySpace photo of the two of you. How embarrassing.

But then the same words, "I'm so going to kill you," are no longer acceptable. Once they've been typed online there becomes a new sense of seriousness around everything you say. You can't see any facial expression and you can't hear the tone of voice, and suddenly a phrase meant to be sarcastic and joking turns into a potential death threat.

The "bullying" that is just a part of high school (the gossip, the rumors, the cliques, and the cattiness) gets a new name. Now it's "cyber-bullying" and administrators, parents, and officials just won't stand for it.

During the day you can whisper to your friends about how ugly that girl's outfit was. You can give evil, disgusted glares to the person sitting across from you. It's wrong. It's mean. But it's part of high school. But then, when you get home and get on Facebook, those same comments can even get you suspended from school. All it takes is one public post.

You even have to hesitate when talking to a friend. Who's to say it's not someone else on her AIM account? Who's to say that, after a big fight, she won't copy and paste the things you said and send them out to the entire world? Who's to say your e-mail won't get sent to the wrong person?

Before, in previous generations of teens, none of that was a concern. What you did in high school, stayed in high school. The stuff you said and the way you acted is erased as soon as you step out of your high school bubble.

Now, though, we're expected to have the sense of maturity way beyond our years. Once it's on the Internet, there's always going to be some way to access it. You can write a blog entry on your own Web site, then go back and completely erase it, but an unrefreshed page or a printed-out copy remain as hard evidence.

If you grow up and decide to run for president, all it will take is a quick Google search of your name to reveal all those snide, stereotypical high school comments you made about the weird band geek 30 years ago. You may be more mature now. You may have apologized. You may even be friends now. But in the long run, it's still going to be seen as a reflection of you no matter when it was posted.

It's not even about looking toward the future, necessarily. You have to learn how to censor yourself and adapt that level of maturity online for the pure sake of avoiding serious school repercussions.

When you're in class you can go on a 20-minute rant about how much you dislike someone. When you're with your friends at lunch you can talk about all those attractive boys in your biology class. No teacher interrupts you. They see the whispers, they see the glares, but the most you'll get is a "Please pay attention back there." But then, when you get home and do the same things online, from hot lists to a simple "She is so annoying," you can earn yourself a trip to the principal's office.

Teenagers will always act like teenagers. There's going to be the drama, the gossip, etc., but it seems that with the rise of the online world there have become new expectations. We need to grow up, and we need to grow up fast. Because as soon as you become part of the online world, everything changes.

Note: An earlier version of this column appeared as an entry in the Gargoyle staff blog.