Sometimes people put their Twitter feeds in their Facebook and it feels out of place; like a crime book in the family section or a novela on Fox News. All of a sudden the @’s and the RT’s and the #hashtags look strange.
Dan decides that we need to do a day of Twitter. At first he sneaks it into the professional development with phrases like, “This is at John T. Spencer,” but eventually he busts out the hash tags and it all breaks down.
“At Javier Lucero, Hatch Chillis are overrated. Just like the Dodgers and the Deftones. Hashtag things that make you angry,” I tell him.
“I’ll just flip through and ignore that tweet,” he tells me.
“Nice. Hash tag. Javi’s being passive agressive,” I respond.
Dan looks at me, “At John T. Spencer, I think you need a Mountain Dew. Hash tag. Refreshing. Hash tag. Soda.”
“Hey everyone, Dan just said, ‘I think you need a Mountain Dew.’ Just thought you should know that,” I tell the staff lounge.
“You need an RT or it won’t work,” Dierdre tells me.
“I realize that it’s just a toilet, but there’s something deeply disturbing about peeing on the American Standard. Hash tag. Patriotic Toilets,” I say.
“Count it. Make sure that’s less than 140 characters,” a teacher informs me.
The conversation is random, just like Twitter. And occasionally it gets messy to say “at Javi, at Dan, at Dierdre.” However, it has it’s upsides. I listen better. I monitor my words. I think ahead of time. I keep phrases concise. No more meandering monologues.
But it also brings up some of the insecurities of social media.
“Why didn’t you retweet what I just said?” someone asks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. Hash tag. Humble apologies,” I explain.
“I guess if it were Twitter, I wouldn’t have said anything. I’d be quietly hurt.”
There’s something disturbing about how easy it is to silently neglect a person who is listed as a follower or a friend.