All The Firsts And Lasts Of Our Lives

It was a bit past noon, and we were just getting the water boiling for the pasta in our cooking class. I had my phone out because I had just taken a photo, when I noticed a direct message on Facebook from an old friend who I haven’t spoken to in years. I was not used to hearing from this person and was intrigued, so I quickly read the message. It was in regards to a post I had shared a few days ago about a kid in my class and the message said:

Jabiz, I would delete this post. A child in your classroom has a right to privacy. This post has gone over the line. XXXXX did something similar a few weeks ago about a conversation overheard at our condo from a colleague's daughter. Same thing. Kids have a right not to have their life shared by others on Facebook.

Kids have a right not to have their life shared by others on Facebook.


I played the line over and over in my head as we continued with our class. At first I was a bit taken aback and perhaps slightly defensive, in the way we can become when someone challenges our behaviour, but as I stewed on it for most of the day, I realised that I have a lot to think about when it comes to Privacy and the choices I am making in regards to my own children and the students I teach. Perhaps he was right. Did I have the right to post things about the people in my life without their permission? Is it possible to tell our own stories without sharing the stories of the people we love- the people who’s stories are so intricately woven into our own?


When I got home, I knew the post he mentioned felt weird. The details felt overexposing, and I knew I had to make some changes. I went in and edited out the details that could narrow it down to a specific kid, but I left the rest of the story intact- for now.


In case you haven’t noticed, I am a compulsive over-sharer- stories, photos, thoughts, tweets, videos, successes, failures, anxieties and more. At the dawn of the Internet, for better or worse, I decided to live my life openly online. Also for better or for worse, I have dragged my family along for the ride. Both my kids have thousands of photos online, starting from their ultra-sound photo to the latest ones documenting our every move. I am not sure why I feel the need to document our lives so carefully, but I do.


At first, like most people, it was to share our excitement of parenthood with family and friends overseas. It was so easy and exciting to have grandparents and friends watch our kids grow up. But a few years in, as I began to blog and share my ideas, thoughts and feelings about so many other things my (over)sharing became a way to validate my experiences and give them shape in my own corner of the internet.


I find comfort in the fact that I have hundreds of thousands of words, photos and videos scattered on the Internet. I am not scared that they are permanent traces back to me, because I know nothing is permanent, also because these are all choices I have made about my own life. My story. I have tried to create the truest version of myself for the Internet.


What my old friend reminded me of today, was that perhaps it is unfair to tell other peoples’ stories without their consent or even knowledge. Wikipedia says:


Privacy is the ability of an individual or group to seclude themselves, or information about themselves, and thereby express themselves selectively.


I get it. I really do. But if I were to only be able to share my story selectively, without the connection I have with so many people in my life, what kind of story would that be? It would be inauthentic and boring. We do not exist in vacuums of seclusion. My story does not exist without pieces of your story. I share what I love and I love my kids, my students, my peers, my friends and even strangers online. As our web of ideas and expression becomes more and more complex, it feels that the very nature of privacy comes into question.


Oh, oh….getting into the area of The Circle.


I don’t have too many answers in this post. I am just ting to figure this stuff out. Perhaps I have made some selfish decisions in my attempt to live transparently online. Perhaps, I have dragged those around me unwillingly or unknowingly into this open vulnerable world.


I do know that my friend was right and the post I wrote a few days ago felt uncomfortably translucent. I also know that from now on when I talk about the students I teach, I should be a bit more general and way less judgmental. I do not think I could not talk about them. They are a huge part of my life, but I need to be more aware of how they are represented by what I share about them. The part that has me thinking is that even though I never mention names or specific details, just the fact that I am sharing their stories could be perceived as an encroachment of their privacy.


If I were not allowed to write about and share stories about my students or my own kids, what the hell would I write about? They make up the majority of my life. The amount of energy I spend on them is exponential to the amount of energy I spend on myself. Without my kids and my students the majority of my mental energy is spent on angst, ennui and a dash of rage.


What do you all think? Curious what other educators think about this: Tim, Paula, Keri-Lee, Dave, Jeffrey, Tosca, Kim, Adrienne, Stuart and many more of you. Feel free to jump in. Push back, share your thoughts on privacy, sharing too much about other people, your kids etc…what are your policies?


I am hoping to sit down with Kaia over the break and show her the extent of her online life, and ask if I can record an interview. I am very curious what she has to say.


In the meantime, I will most likely continue on with business-as-usual, as it is the only way I know. But I do feel a bit shaken and awakened, so I will try and temper my thoughts. I will try and focus more on myself a bit and let the other stories orbit like satellites, only sending transmission to the first person tale I might need to focus on


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Oh….Skyelar lost her first tooth tonight and she was so excited she could barely sleep. See how can I not share that? I guess I see all these words as a sort of time capsules into eternity. If things are as permanent as people say, isn’t my online footprint a shot at immortality? Someday years affect I have gone, my kids and their kids can read the words, watch the videos and try to piece together the life of crazy grandpa Raisdana. They can look back on their own lives like a cyper-timemachine and recount the holidays and all the firsts and lasts of our lives.


I have a few crumpled journals from my dad and a box of photos from my childhood which I cherish. Am I not creating a vast photo album and book about this one life I have as a gift for my kids? I am not trying to rob them of their privacy. I want to showcase their immeasurable influence on my life. With every photo or blog post or tweet, I am writing another chapter of our lives. Will they really be embarrassed by this in the future? Are they really being endangered by this exposure? In a world of pixelated noise, I am just scribbling my love songs on the millions of tiny threads in our tiny corner of the web.


I love life and I love sharing what I love. To me sharing the joy and anger and pain and beauty of life is the heart of happiness and the spreading of joy. I see little different between the sharing of life and the living of it.

The Scab

I don’t want too many of these posts to be about politics. There is only so much we can take, so even after the events of Chicago, Cleveland and St. Louis, I will choose to write about something other than you know who tonight.

Although I will say that I am having a very hard time distinguishing between anger and sadness these days. Article after article and video after video fall like granite through my Facebook feed, and I am lost as to which new emoticon to present that accurately represents my emotions.

It feels like a blend of anger, sadness, shame, pity, frustration, fear and loathing, but ultimately I think all of these emotions can be summed up as hate. This campaign is making me hate, and this is why it is so dangerous.

Having said that I hope that I have enough faith in humanity, peace, love and understanding. Perhaps this is the darkness before the dawn and America has started the healing process by ripping off the scab.

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It is a beautiful early afternoon and the clouds are a rainbow of white and black and different shades of grey. We are all on bikes and the sun is gently toasting my skin. Kaia is up ahead lost in her thoughts, while Mairin and Skye are just behind me.

East Coast Park is crowded with campers and picnickers. The BBQ pits are strewn with balloons and the smoke of cooking meat. People are covered in sand and water and the calm lethargy of a well spent Sunday. There are large groups of expats, Muslims, Indians and Chinese. Couples and families. Athletes and loafers. A diverse range of people, peacefully enjoying the sun and the sand. Say what you will about race relations in Singapore, but on a day like today at East Coast Park, you cannot help but fall in love with what our human family can look like if we just chill the hell out and do our own thing.

We bike passed the crowds and stop at the restaurant with the pool out front, for a quick stop to eat and a dip. Just as quickly as we stopped we are back on the road, headed to Kallang Wave for some Lazy River fun. The ride is hot and hard- probably over twenty kilometers in total, but we all ride in our own silence and occasional conversations. The girls are not complaining, as this is what we do- we ride our bikes and enjoy the air and the strain on our legs.

We swim a bit and float in the sun at the Lazy River. Rain clouds are threatening, but the air is thick with heat and the water feels perfect. Still wet in swim suits, we are back on our bikes and head back to East Coast park. Large dark clouds are right behind us, stirring up the wind and a soft splash of drizzle. A quick stop at Starbucks for some donuts, fruit and smoothies.

Toward the end, Skye is tired, but peddling. We are home and showered and napping and playing games on iPads. We earned it. Bed time comes fast and easy, as our sun drenched blood shot eyes welcome the quiet solitude of sleep. We will dream about the graceful beauty of a day spent on a bicycle. I know that John, Roderick, Chris and Andrew will understand what I mean.

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Read an article today about how parents in France can be sued by their kids if the parents post pictures of the kids on social media. I have also seen several articles about kids who are upset about their parents sharing photos of the kids online. As many of you know, I have been sharing photos of both my kids since they were born. I think they both have an ultrasound photo online somewhere.

I have lots of thoughts about the issue, but it is too soon for me to comment at length. I am letting it stew. I think I would like to make a video and ask Kaia what she thinks. I need to actually show her what is out there, explain why I put it there, show her some of the reactions and see what she says.

Old and Ugly and Gross

“If I’ve properly studied what’s going on in me, there’s a good chance it’ll read as if it’s about you.” Alain de Botton

Today wasn’t great. It wasn’t so great in a bad way, just in a not so great way. The day never really felt like it got off the ground. You ever have days like that? Ran a few errands in the morning that didn’t have the intended results. Although, Kaia came with me and we had some- sing-Pearl Jam-at-the-top-of-your-lungs-father daughter time.

The rest was mediocre.

The timing of my showers was off, and as a result I felt a bit sweaty for most of the day. Timing your showers in South East Asia is a key survival skill.

I didn’t eat right. I had some random McDonald's Fries, a Coke and an Apple Pie around 3pm that was not a good idea. This is my go to gluttonous, feel guilty for supporting corporate devils, but do it more often than I care to admit, snack.

It was cloudy and grey and the pool was uninspiring. I’m not cutting my hair or shaving my beard until the end of February, when I will shave it all off for our annual Hair for Hope event, but today the young beard was itchy and gross, and the hair felt a bit like a helmet. I was not comfortable in my own skin.

I felt old and ugly and gross.

We also took Kaia to get a manicure, watched Lemony Snicket, fell into a nap, and bought some bread from the store.

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Sometimes when I’m bored I google myself. You might think this particular act is nothing more than narcissistic navel-gazing, (Kind of like writing a long Facebook status/blog post everyday for a year) and you might be right, but you might also think that I am tending, with due diligence, to my digital foot print.

Because I have chosen to put so much of my life online, it feels like the responsible thing to do- is to know what is out there for when/if anyone should type my name into the search engine.

Tonight, the results were about the same as usual. The main page was Twitter, my blogs, Facebook, Flickr and some random work I have done on other sites. The images were all kosher too. Mostly the thousands of profile pics I have used for various social media, a few shots of Kaia and actually lots of pictures from my PLN (personal learning network). The video section also checked out- youtube channel front and center, followed by clips of me singing at school and a variety of videos I have made for workshops in the last few years. The pleasant surprise was when I clicked on news.

I wasn’t expecting to see much of anything, but there were at least seven or eight websites that had used my Creative Commons Licensed photos for their content. A few shots of workers I had taken in Doha, a photo of Kaia dressed up as a scientist was on two STEM pages, and a shot of Singapore was on some travel site. They were all correctly attributed which was good. There was also some French article about me from 2011 when I was in Hong Kong. Not sure what it said exactly, I hope it was good.

It was reassuring to know that a kind and communal internet is possible. Not everything has to be viral or troll-laden. We can create content and openly share it with other people who might need it. Seems like a simple concept, this internet, but sometimes if feels like it has gotten too murky.

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I read today that there are gangs of roaming violent boys from Morocco, harassing people at a train station in Stockholm. And recently a vigilante gang of masked Swedes went into said station and beat them up. This story feels like a lose-lose for humanity.

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Lessons Learned:

• Not everyday is going to be great, or inspiring or even that interesting. 
• Some days are just meant to pass by. 
• Living your life online needn’t be scary and your work and ideas can end up in interesting places. 

1. Tell us about a mediocre day you recently had. 
2. Google yourself right now and share the results. Anything surprising?