Sanctioned Gossip

 "We took her out skiing for the first time, and she yard-saled on a green run!"

It's the most natural thing in the world for a parent. We talk about our kids' lives. Especially with other parents, it's a prerequisite to any other significant conversation. And we have a certain proclivity to talk about the bad things.

"I really don't approve of this new girlfriend. The family she comes from . . . well, let's just say . . ."

And then we say it: the attention-getting thing, the thing that sets our judgment nerves a-twitching, the thing that the other parents should receive with an "Oh, yeah!" before sharing their own stories of children running afoul.

"She just spends so much time on her screen! She says she's doing her schoolwork, but when I come in the room I hear something from TikTok!"

The parental tendency to talk about their kids brings credibility in the parent community. It is almost socially necessary to be able to complain about the strange, difficult, or negative events which children inevitably bring upon themselves and about which parents rightfully stress and worry. Airing our kids' misdeeds might even serve as a pressure-release valve. There is, after all, comfort in knowing that we're not the only ones suffering mishaps and malfeasance from our offspring.

Looking at the bare facts of this behavior, though, reveals that what parents do is simply sanctioned gossiping. The long, distinguished pedigree of this behavior does not remove its essential character: We air the dirty laundry of someone else in front of third parties in order to cause our bond with those third parties to strengthen in the mutual embrace of humor, disappointment, shock, and scorn. All from credit drawn on someone else's reputation.

In the face of such a long and permeating history you might feel driven (like me) to shrug and move past this 1,600-pound cultural gorilla. But this beast has given birth to another which does not sit in the corner so quietly.

I was recently reminded of the debate about whether to post pictures of one's baby(ies) online. It's not just babies of course. As our children grow up there grows an endless litany of events to report to the wider world. But as our children get older they become responsive to their own digital presence--a shout-out to Gwyneth Paltrow's daughter for calling this to mind so beautifully. While her example was not one involving negative behavior, I'm quite sure most of us can think of times we've seen embarrassing or strange footage in social media about someone's children.

Technology, or media, does not invent content. It simply conveys, and amplifies, content that already exists. Parents have been relaying the foolish choices of their children to other people (via in-person speech, telephone, and letter) for aeons. Our current digital media allow that same communication to go farther, faster, and in more directions than ever before. And the reports have the capacity to stay in cyberspace--available to be searched--for a long time. The gossip is the same as it has been--and always will be? But the speed and reach of that bad news gets faster and farther with every new technological advance.

As a parent who has the ability to affect my children in so many ways, far into the future, I want to recognize the root of the tendency to gossip about my kids. I want to recognize that parents seem to have been given the right to gossip about their children, and the habit becomes ingrained very early, from the time I told that story about how my infant son chose an electric cord as a teething toy. And I want to recognize that, especially with ever-advancing technologies, the impact of that gossip will become greater and greater. What may have begun as the formation of a small-town social reputation that could easily be escaped will become a 5,000-pound beast that follows my child around--around the globe--for the rest of her life.

The amplifying power of social media brings to light a convicting thought that applies even to the human beings that I helped bring into the world, for whom I have sacrificed so much, and in whom I have invested so much: There is no good gossip.

Even if it seems that it must cost me social capital as a parent, I want to publish to the world only encouragement and blessing for my kids, no matter the technology, no matter the medium.

~ emrys