Social Media Helps Students Write Better
Are Social Networking Sites Harmful?, 2015
From Opposing Viewpoints in Context
Andrew Simmons is a writer, teacher, and musician. He has written for The New York Times, Slate, and The Believer.
Many people argue that the slang encouraged by social media has a bad effect on student writing. However, social media
can help students, especially male high school students, reveal emotions and discuss topics that make their writing more
powerful and honest. Male students are usually encouraged to be silent, contained, and not reveal emotions.
On Facebook, however, students routinely discuss personal issues and emotions and receive praise for doing so. This
greater freedom to express themselves improves their writing at school.
The Internet has ruined high-school writing. Write the line on the board five hundred times like [cartoon character] Bart
Simpson. Remember and internalize it. Intone it in an Andy Rooney-esque grumble.
I've heard the line repeated by dozens of educators and laypeople. I've even said it myself.
Thankfully it is untrue.
Emoticons vs. Emotional Honesty
As a high-school English teacher, I read well over a thousand student essays a year. I can report that complete sentences
are an increasingly endangered species. I wearily review the point of paragraphs every semester. This year I tried and
failed to spark a senior class protest against "blobs"—my pejorative term for essays lacking paragraphs. When I see a
winky face in the body of a personal essay—and believe me, it has happened enough to warrant a routine response—I
use a red pen to draw next to it a larger face with narrow, angry eyes and gaping jaws poised to chomp the offending
emoticon to pieces Pac-Man-style. My students analyze good writing and discuss the effect of word choice and elegant
syntax on an audience's reading experience. The uphill battle is worth fighting, but I'm always aware that something more
foreboding than chronic senioritis lines up in opposition.
However, while Facebook and Twitter have eroded writing conventions among my students, they have not killed the most
important ingredients in personal writing: self-reflection and emotional honesty. For younger high school boys particularly,
social networking has actually improved writing—not the product or the process, but the sensitivity and inward focus
required to even begin to produce a draft that will eventually be worth editing.
High school is cruel to all genders, an equal-opportunity destroyer of spirit and self-esteem. I'm focusing on boys because
I've seen the phenomenon play out more intensely with them. Also, I was a boy once, and so I understand them better
than I understand girls.
The emotional distance fostered by Facebook and other sites can encourage a healthier candor.
When I was beginning high school in 1994 boys knew not to reveal weakness and insecurity. Girls didn't seem to like guys
who vocalized vulnerability. Athletes usually projected stereotypically masculine traits: along with imposing physical size,
aggressive, even belligerent confidence, an easy stance, gait, and casual presence, the signs of being comfortable in their
own skins. Even the scrawniest punk guitarists wore hoodies like armor and possessed a prickly toughness seasoned by
the experience of having been bullied in middle school. The climate demanded stoicism, cool detachment as the default
attitude for boys trying not to lose social standing. Young male attitudes were, as they still are, shaped by music and other
forms of pop culture. Mainstream mid-90s rappers had cold-blooded personas. Even [rock singer for Nirvana] Kurt Cobain
mumbled through interviews, only opening up in cathartic song, where the rawest admissions could be obtuse and readily
cloaked in distortion. Everyone agonized over problems—height, acne, academic ability, body size, a lack of attention
from girls, parents splitting up, sick grandparents, needy siblings, general alienation—but no one wanted to talk about
them much. At age 14, I was small, smart, and artistic. I wrote well, but the prospect of writing anything that would permit
even a teacher to know what I really thought terrified me. Spilling my guts in a writers' workshop with my classmates
would have been social suicide.
Social networking has dramatically altered how high-school boys deal with their emotions.
Watching Facebook
I have a Facebook page dedicated solely to my position as an educator. I don't send friend requests to students but
current and former students can send them to me and I always accept. I don't post much, but I keep up with some
students and share literature-related links when I delude myself into thinking they'll be of interest. Current students often
send me requests without thinking of the possible consequences of being Facebook friends with a teacher. I have made it
a policy to avoid bringing a student's posts into a conference with a parent or counselor unless required to do so by law. A
few times a week though, I log on and observe what students post.
My observations have reaffirmed the widely held notion that the Internet is no refuge from the pains of adolescence. It's a
really bad neighborhood. On Facebook and Twitter, students humiliate, jeer, and shame one another. They engage in
antisocial, even criminal behavior—leaving belligerently racist comments on links, harassing classmates with derogatory
posts.
At the same time, the emotional distance fostered by Facebook and other sites can encourage a healthier candor, too. On
Facebook, even popular students post statuses in which they express insecurities. I see a dozen every time I log on. A kid
frets that his longtime girlfriend is straying and wishes he hadn't upset her. Another admits to being lonely (with weepy
emoticons added for effect). Another asks friends to pray for his sick little sister. Another worries the girl he gave his
number to isn't interested because she hasn't called in the 17 minutes that have passed since the fateful transaction.
Another disparages his own intellect. "I'm so stupid, dad told me to drop out," he writes. Another wonders why his parents
are always angry, and why their anger is so often directed at him. "Brother coming home today," another posts. "Gonna
see how it goes."
Individually these may seem like small-scale admissions. But the broader trend I have witnessed in the past few years
stands in sharp contrast to the vigilance with which my generation guarded our fears both trivial and deep. In this sense,
social networking has dramatically altered how high-school boys deal with their emotions.
Instead of being mocked for revealing too much, students who share in this way win likes and supportive comments from
male friends. Perhaps part of it is the fact that girls appear to appreciate the emotional candor and publicly validate it with
likes and comments, giving boys the initiative to do the same. In high-school halls, guards stay up, but online, male
emotional transparency is not only permitted but also celebrated. Surely, the current crop of "sensitive" rappers has also
encouraged this—especially standard-bearer Kanye West, who treats albums like therapy sessions and doesn't mind
welling up on national television. In addition to their insecurities, boys share affectionate admissions of platonic love to one
another that they wouldn't feel as comfortable sharing in person. They post "I admit" and "To be honest" notes on one
another's pages in which they celebrate fraternal bonds.
Just as social networking frees users from public decorum ... it allows my students to safely, if temporarily, construct
kinder, gentler versions of themselves as well.
"You my bro cause you always have time to talk."
"Even when there no one else you got me."
However trite, these public expressions may be the seeds of richer revelations.
Writing as Healing
Because it happens on the Internet, the candor is a simulation of how a more evolved young male culture might operate.
Despite the Drake pics captioned with the rapper's soft-headed couplets, the fight videos, and the countless time-wasting
surveys and games that pollute the average high-school student's feed, I see the online social universe my students
traverse as an improvement over my high-school terrain. Many of my students grow up in households in which machismo
reigns supreme. They've never been allowed to cry. Their mothers and sisters cook and wash the dishes and clean.
They've been encouraged to see themselves as dominant, powerful, swaggering, sullen men, not sensitive and reflective
men, powerfully kind, confidently open. Fostering those traits is a woman's responsibility, like housework. In this sense,
Facebook is a genuine outlet for the young men I teach. Just as social networking frees users from public decorum and
encourages the birthing of troll alter egos, it allows my students to safely, if temporarily, construct kinder, gentler versions
of themselves as well.
The great news is that this has a positive effect on teaching and learning. My students in 2013 are more comfortable
writing about personal issues than were my classmates in the mid-late '90s. When I assign narrative essays, students
discuss sexual abuse, poverty, imprisoned family members, alcoholic parents, gang violence, the struggle to learn English
in America—topics they may need to address, not merely subjects they believe might entertain or interest a reader.
After all, we write for an audience and we write for ourselves too. I see students recognizing the value of tackling these
topics with honesty. I notice that they are relieved when they do so. Sometimes students address the same topic in
several essays over the course of the year, updating me, their confidante, on the status of a specific situation. When they
share these essays with the rest of the class, they turn the two-way conversation (their writing, my feedback) into a
network. Writing isn't just about the spilling of guts, obviously, but the transparency encouraged by social networking has
laid the foundation for this freedom. When this freedom results in powerful, honest writing, it can in turn result in true
healing for kids—not just the momentary reassurance a well-received status update may provide.
Simmons, Andrew. "Social Media Helps Students Write Better." Are Social Networking Sites Harmful?, edited by Noah
Berlatsky, Greenhaven Press, 2015. At Issue. Opposing Viewpoints in
Context, http://link.galegroup.com/apps/doc/EJ3010744227/OVIC?u=tel_k_stem&xid=9fedcff5. Accessed 9 Jan. 2018.
Originally published as "Facebook Has Transformed My Students' Writing—For the Better," Atlantic, 18 Nov. 2013.
