|
|
| Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| | | | |
| − | As a tech savvy millennial, my entire life since childhood has been facilitated in some way by the internet. I got my first Gmail account in second grade, which I used actively to communicate with my cousins and friends in lieu of text message. That same year, I began uploading skits to Youtube in an attempt to become an 8 year old version of NigaHiga. My cousins and I started a family centered blogger page around that time too, where we spilled our juvenile musings out to the world through daily posts.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Social media has been part of my life for some time also. My first Facebook account was made in 2008, when I was a few birthdays short of the 13 year age requirement. I can vividly remember the hours I spent on the social platform’s games like FarmVille and Restaurant City. I wasn’t just playing games on Facebook either. I was definitely posting, and the posts were definitely stupid. I didn’t really care back then. It was a different time. Social media was seen as a net positive by my generation.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | My carefree use of public internet platforms continued uninterrupted until my freshman year of college. I can vividly recall the uneasy feeling I felt when it was announced that Donald Trump had won the election during my first semester. As a muslim American, Trump’s openly anti-muslim campaign rhetoric had taken me by surprise. Platforms like Facebook and Twitter were supposed to be border blending, connecting different countries and cultures with one another, and creating a more accepting world. When news came that social media, disinformation, and surveillance had actually played a large role in Trump’s win, I had to reconsider what my presence on social media was contributing to. I deleted my Facebook account shortly after, in an emotional act of protest against what the platform had facilitated.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Since then I’ve made a conscious effort to minimize my online identity. It’s become all too apparent that every public post we make is being collected and classified by third parties. Most of the time, analysis of our online data is used for less than nefarious purposes, like targeted ads and other attempts to sell us products. If we aren’t careful though, our public data can come back to haunt us. For this reason, I was intrigued by the premise of our class data identity assignment. It’s important get a better understanding of what a 3rd party sees when they look us up.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === '''Google Search:''' ===
| |
| − | I first performed the most basic form of online surveillance. I googled my name. I have a fairly uncommon name in the US, so on the social media accounts I still have it would be pretty easy to find me if I listed first and last name. For this reason, I only list my first name on every platform except LinkedIn, where it would be unprofessional to not also have my last name. To no surprise, the first result when you Google search me is my LinkedIn profile. I have my privacy settings customized to stop anyone outside of my network and recruiters from viewing details, so the public facing search result is pretty limited. You know where I go to school and what degree I’m pursuing, but there’s no headshot, activity details, or other personal information. The rest of the Google search results are entirely unrelated to me, but it’s pretty interesting to me that I’m the first result when my common name is searched. Adding details to my query revealed some unsettling publicly available information. If you Google my name + my home state, the fourth link is to a page listing voter registration information for me. There you can find my address and information about my siblings. In all likelihood, having this information searchable won’t change my life in anyway, but the fact that companies are able to put your home address out for the entire world to see without letting you know is disturbing.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === '''Data Broker:'''===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Moving on from the surface level surveillance of Google, I checked out a data broker report from one of the providers discussed in class. Professor Conway had trouble finding me on all but one of the providers, which gave me reassurance that my attempts to minimize my public profile are working. What is available from the report I received is very minimal, and is basically what you would get from a couple google searches. There are some flaws though. All email addresses listed are completely false and nowhere near close to my actual email. This report ties me to an administrator of muslimfamilyservices.org, which I’ve never used or even heard of. Additionally, all social media links given in this report are either false or have long been deleted. All in-all viewing this report makes me worried about the repercussions of being falsely tied to something I don’t represent. I’ve recently been having trouble with airport security, causing me to miss flights and have to buy new tickets because they won’t let me print my boarding pass online. This is happening after years of flying without any trouble. Nothing about me has changed to justify this airport trouble, and this makes me wonder if information related to someone else who has my name is being used to make judgements about me that are not true.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | ==='''Perspective shift:'''===
| |
| − | History has shown us that increased surveillance can lead to violations of privacy and even oppression. With our data more available now than ever, it’s important for us to understand what is searchable about our identities. This is a good part of the reason why I have made an effort to stay off social media. However, after viewing the data in the broker report and realizing that I am being connected to someone who is not me, I now wonder if remaining unfindable has made it easier for others to draw unfounded conclusions about me.
| |
