Category Archives: Childhood

Reminiscences, our childhoods, and how they compare with our parenthood.

Spot the flaw – teaching children to use social media safely

The biggest problem, of course, with teaching our children and young people how to safely navigate and use social media such as Facebook and Twitter, is that most people don’t KNOW how to safely navigate and use social media. And that’s a problem. The reality, alluded to in Kevin’s earlier post, is that an awful lot of adults are terrified of Facebook, or else utterly oblivious to it. And if you have no skills to keep yourself safe on-line, then you cannot hope to teach those skills to the eleven and twelve year olds in your care.

So, what are the rules? Well, here are some of mine:

Know who your friends are

I have a basic rule for Facebook, which I know not everyone shares – to be my friend, I have to have met you, at least once. It is perfectly possible to safely use Facebook in a different way, but it is clearly designed with the assumption that my Facebook friends are, in fact, my actual friends.

FacebookNow, I probably wouldn’t describe all my Facebook friends as actual friends in any other sense. Lots of them are people from my past, even from primary school, with whom I have no particular relationship, and whom I haven’t seen in person for 20 or more years. I use Facebook to keep a vague link with people I would otherwise have lost touch with, because I’m casually interested in how they turned out. However, that “long-list” of friends doesn’t see most of what I post. My day-to-day statuses, the photos of my children, and other personal information is limited to a short-list of friends, which I call, (imaginatively) “Real Friends”. And what most people don’t realise, or can’t be bothered with (I am, as Kevin regularly says, a closet librarian who likes this sort of thing), is that you can group and sub-group your friends to almost infinite levels of granularity. I have about a dozen lists in my Friends section, including Family, Church, Home-Ed Friends, High School, Primary School, University CU, University Staff, etc, etc, etc. However, the default setting on my account is that only the group Real Friends can see my status and other postings. I can change that to an alternative group, or a collection of groups/individuals on a post-by-post basis, if I like, but for the unthinking day-to-day stuff, that’s my default setting.

It’s not widely understood that Facebook gives you these options. It is true that Facebook doesn’t have a history of taking user privacy very seriously, but it’s also true that there are a great many more hoaxes and fabrications out there, about Facebook security, than real problems. Periodically, they try to change something, if it’s a bad idea the media get a hold, and Facebook back down. It’s not a complete privacy disaster area, but you DO need to take the trouble to learn how to use the tools that are there.

Protect the vulnerable

When you sign up to Facebook, it makes you promise faithfully that you are over the age of 13. I didn’t have a problem with this, because I’ve been over 13 for many years. However, I do know people who have consciously created Facebook accounts for children much younger than this, for various reasons – practical ones, so that the child can play game that they previously only played on a parent’s account; and more ideological ones, to do with the belief that if they introduce them early, they can be part of teaching them how to use it, and keep themselves safe.

As a result, I have one under-13 amongst my friends, and he gets his own set of security settings. He can see nothing at all. I’m not in the habit of posting porn or anything, but since most of my friends are adults, I don’t want to inadvertantly post something, forgetting he would see it too. I also don’t want any of my friends, who could post things onto my wall if they wished, to put something inappropriate where my young friend might come across it – either intentionally, or because of a virus they have contracted. When I accepted the friend request of a child, I took responsibility for protecting him from what he might see from my account.

If you’re friends with your mother, and you don’t want her to see what you might get up to, put her in her own group. You can use lists to grant greater access to a specific group, but you can also use them to limit access to particular people. If I were in the habit of befriending people I’d never met, I would probably add those people to a similar group, barring them from access to various sorts of personal information.

Understand how Twitter is different

Twitter, I treat entirely differently. In precisely opposite terms to Facebook, Twitter has been designed so that anything I post can, potentially, be seen by anyone at all. In the world. Anywhere. Again, there are ways of changing the defaults – you can tie your account down so that you get to vet your followers, and only those people can read your tweets. Most people don’t, though, and that is one of the strengths of Twitter; it can give you conversation and discussion with a wide range of interested people, whom you may not otherwise come across.

TwitterThat means, of course, that you need to be much more careful about personal information. If you decide to tweet where and when you plan to be with your children, today, you need to be aware than any old nutter could see that information – not just the people who follow you, even. The great likelihood is that they won’t, of course, but they could, and you need to take responsibility for how much you give away about yourself to the world. It may FEEL like you’re having a private conversation with an individual, but unless you’re using Direct Messages, you’re probably not.

Know your audience

Related to that, is a general need on ALL social media, including blogs and forums and anywhere else that you might post, to know what you’re saying, and to whom. We’ve be scalded by this one a few times, ourselves – usually in the context of passing comment on a person or group, either in the public domain, or whom we never imagined would read it, and then having to grovel humbly for offending them. It’s not good. It leaves a nasty taste in my mouth, and makes me hate myself a bit. So, be aware of how global your audience is, but also be aware of whom you have put in your groups, and whether you really want them to read what you’ve written.


We’ve blogged for much longer than we’ve been parents, and we’re not particularly careful about disguising our identities when we do it. If I had to point to a weakness in our online presence, that would probably be it. When Daisy was born, she was a tiny baby (obviously), and there didn’t seem to be any great risks associated with posting photos of a child who was never out of my sight anyway. By the time she turned two, I was starting to feel more jumpy about her web exposure, and at that point, we started password protecting photos of her, and later of her brother. In keeping with that philosophy, I post photos of them on Facebook, within my carefully-tied-down security system there, and I don’t post them on Twitter, because it’s so much more open.

I know other people whose blogs I follow, who DO post photos of their children, but who never use their real names. It’s an alternate approach, I suppose – if some undesirable decided to stalk the child, they would have to stumble across them, they couldn’t search for them by name. It’s probably not ideal to pour all your personal details out to everyone, and particularly those of your children, for whom you are responsible.

Think very carefully about how much information you are prepared to give to strangers, either formally, or (perhaps more riskily) in conversation. If you decide real names are out, then be consistent – there’s no point using pseudonyms on your blog, if you refer to yourself by name on Twitter, or link to a Facebook account that’s not tied down.

Take it slow

Internet relationships are very odd things. They can become very personal and in-depth, very quickly, and you can find yourself feeling that you know a person inside out, even though you’ve never met them, and only tweeted with them over a few weeks.

Time is the most effective safeguard against being duped by an online friend who isn’t what they claim. The longer you converse with them, the more you find out about them, and the clearer it becomes if the information doesn’t add up. I have an online friend whom I plan to meet for the first time in a few weeks. I don’t know her, but over a period of 7 or 8 months, I have learned a lot about her personality, I know the names of her children, I think I even know her address, if I concentrate. It’s been a gradual process, and at every stage, the new information has tallied with the information which came before, the Twitter persona fitted in with the blog posts, and I am confident that the person in question is authentically who she says she is. However, neither am I meeting her for the first time alone.


The final golden rule of the internet, for me, is don’t accept being treated badly. Block and move on. Even with an open Twitter account, you can block other users from viewing your stream, and from contacting you. You can defriend people on Facebook, and you can moderate blog comments, so that they don’t automatically appear on your site. There is no reason to let people mistreat you online, and the sooner you cut off their access to you, the easier it will be to do.

So, those are my rules. What are yours?

Invisible bonds

I’ve talked about my family before, I’m sure, but this week I’ve found myself thinking about extended family as a form of identity, all over again.

My granddad, with two of his younger brothers
My granddad, with two of his younger brothers, outside their house.

My granddad was the eldest of six children, which meant that my dad grew up in something of a clan – he had two siblings, and ten cousins on his dad’s side of the family, to say nothing of a stack of cousins and second cousins who were from his mum’s side. Families in those days had a lot of proximity about them. They all lived within a few miles of one another, in North Liverpool, and the ones who didn’t, didn’t go too far – Aunty Gwen lived in Parbold, Uncle Alf moved to Rainford, but mostly, they were less than ten minutes apart by car. Also, those of them that held on to the faith of their childhoods, tended to stay in the one church.

My dad’s generation, of course, were the baby-boomers (he only discovered this about himself recently, I can’t imagine where he’s been). They were the ones who did the 11+, and saw driving their own car as less of a privilege than a right, and would move towns for a job, and be the first in their family to own a house. My dad’s cousins were much more geographically disparate. We lived in various bits of East Lancashire when I was growing up, and Tim moved from Southport to Altrincham, and Phil spent about fifteen years in London, which was as close to the edge of the earth as made no practical difference to the rest of us.

Some of the cousins lost touch, at that point. There are at least four or five whom I know I would not recognise if I met them in the street – although one of that group is my “friend” on Facebook, and lives ten minutes walk from my house. I’ve not been round, though. A core, who stayed in Liverpool, also stayed in the church, and helped to create a kind of home base there, that the rest of us came back to, periodically. My grandparents and two of their children went for a communal living approach, pooling their resources to put three generations into a lovely big Victorian house in the suburbs. The house became another sort of base – there was always someone in, there, and when you arrived, you instantly felt part of the big family, probably just because a good proportion of the family were there already.

That house is where the Christmas parties were held (Boxing night, every year), with all the little traditions, including the one where Father Christmas arrived, and handed out presents to everyone (for hours…) in return for a rendition of Away in a Manger. One year, my granddad stood in for Santa by appearing in drag as a Christmas Fairy – drag isn’t something I would ever have associated with him, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, and as far as I know, it has never happened before or since. Increasingly, for me, part of generation number three of the ever more separated, and ever more numerous family group, the Christmas party was the only time I ever saw most of those people. We have less and less in common, and less and less to tie us together.

And yet, we are still tied together.

I heard a story, today, of one of my dad’s cousins, who’s immediate family had drifted away from the group, and who, now in her fifties, is missing her family, to the point of feeling quite resentful about it. It touched me. I don’t know this woman from Eve, but if she has discovered a need in herself to reconnect with the Family (that makes us sound like the Sopranos, and nothing could be further from the truth), then I’m pretty sure we have space for her. Why not? She belongs with us. She should have been here all along.

My great-grandma, with her grandchildren at Christmas
My great-grandma, with her grandchildren at Christmas - the generation before mine!

For various reasons, the Christmas party did not happen last year, and isn’t going to happen this year. It remains to be seen whether two years out will mean the end of it, forever. I’m really not sure how much effort is reasonable to expend, in an attempt to bring together a group of people who otherwise get along fine without each other. To bring any real substance to those relationships, I’m pretty sure we’d have to meet more frequently than that, and I’m equally sure that if someone were to do something off-the-wall, like host a family open house once a month, nobody would show up.

The fact is that our family is too big, now. Including spouses, there are knocking on for fifty living descendants of my great-grandma. So, it’s hardly surprising – the family is losing it’s structural integrity, because in modern life, when we live so far apart, and have such busyness to contend with, it takes all our energy to maintain our closest family links. The second cousins once removed are just once removed too far.

That kind of makes me sad. I’d like to find a way to fix it, to make it possible for the group identity to continue, because it’s a key part of my own sense of identity, and I suspect, I’m not the only one. I’m just not sure that it’s possible.

do tigger and pooh need help?

For what passes as entertainment in the jump household – I offer this little insight. poohbear.jpg

there was some ‘nearly’ classic Winnie-the-pooh on playhouse Disney this morning, which had us all watching, especially as it’s coinciding with the reading of the Winnie-the-pooh stories at bedtime. they where mixing there stories so we had eeyore in the river, then his birthday.

Anyway I was interested to see just when we where talking about, so i did some interneting, and got to a few interesting things, including the fact that disney makes $1 billion dollars a year from pooh! also in 2000 the Canadian Medical journal published a paper about what was wrong with everyone in the hundred acre wood.

Apparently pooh bear has ADHD and OCD, Tigger is hyperactive and owl is dyslexic : yes, but it’s quite depressing to then read that given the chance the people who did the study would be drugging up half the forest – mainly to cure these problems. I don’t see why ?Pooh is perfectly happy with his lot, why does he need drugs, and if you took the bounce out of Tigger then everybody’s life would be sadder.

green balloon youth

look - secret signals!

look - secret signals!


Is it just me, or is their something strangely unearthing about the green balloon club? I mean all the kids of the country of a certain age, are completely engulfed in everything that goes on, they have – not very – secret passwords. and Skye has quite a command over everything, and just listen to the opening lines to the theme song

“Gather round, one and all. You’ve got to answer the call.”

Just wait, one day, Skye will issue the call, and the under 4’s of the world will rise up against us, don’t say i didn’t warn you.