Thanks to Shane for forwarding this very interesting article about people who write back to their college newspapers in an effort to get their old, sometimes compromising, articles pulled from the internet archives.
The gist of it is that, back in their college days, people would write columns for their school newspapers. And these old columns would have content that is, at best, slightly embarrassing. At worst, it could actually be detrimental to one's career.
Because of the spread of the interwebs, this content is now easily accessible to employers, potential mates, and other such authority figures. And, in an effort to prevent their sex column from coming into the hands of the hiring director at the conservative think tank, alumni have called, begged, and pleaded their old newspaper to pull those columns from the web.
Some newspapers acquiesce. Most do not.
I am in a peculiar position. In my former life, I wrote a weekly column for The Sun. Contrary to popular belief, it was not a religious column. In the long, storied, and critically acclaimed history of"Tequila Sunrise," I advocated for longer bar hours, ran for president, begged for a sham marriage, explained how to go to the bathroom, called for a revolution, chronicled a weekend in Vegas in which I impersonated a Baldwin, and created a cult.
Most of these columns contain several and repeated references to the drinking, carousing, and rowdiness that exists unfettered in college campuses. Most of those references are personal stories. All of them sacrificed the author's dignity in one way or another.
And now, I'm looking for a permanent job, which is kind of important. I know that, if I am googled by the hiring committee, sentences like, "I also shower daily, speak Spanish and have no criminal record in this country. So far," or "I was, in fact, the long-lost Baldwin brother who was birthed in Mexico and remained as yet unrecognized by the Baldwin patriarch — even though I could drink him and any of his assorted children under the table," might come up.
And you know what? That's fine. I shouldn't have to apologize for what I wrote and did back in college. And I sure as hell should not have to hide it, or ask anyone else -- especially a newspaper -- to do it for me.
I'm not stupid. I've left an easily accessible paper trail. I know I have to explain what I wrote.
And I have. When the question of what I wrote in college comes up, I simply tell the truth. I tell them I wrote a humor column for the newspaper. And when they asked what it dealt with, I tell them student life. And if they ever ask me why it makes so many references to drinking and partying, I'll tell them that that's what student life is like, and they're kidding themselves if they think any different.
And if they seem concerned that this might be indicative of future conduct, I reassure them that I got all my yayas out in college. And that it's absurd to hold a 22 year-old college student to the same standards as a 25 year-old law student. And then I pray that they buy this.
My point is, I wrote what I wrote and make no apologies for this. If my future boss cannot discern between an alter ego (no matter how accurate) in a humor college for a student newspaper and the future prospects for an applicant, I don't think we'll be on the same page anyway. You have to look at the contexts here. There is something profoundly different between trying to make someone laugh in a student publication and negotiating a reverse triangular merger. Expecting a commensurate level of seriousness in both endeavors is laughable.
The internet is not a surprise to anyone. When I wrote those columns, I knew they would exist and follow me from now until forever. And every other columnist knew the same thing. You can't freak out and demand that a newspaper trim its archives and digital record because someone might google you. You did not write this stuff on a note to a girl you had a crush on in the third grade. You wrote it for a widely-available publication, ostensibly for the purpose of reaching a mass audience. You knew this when you wrote it. To ask that it be "erased" today is hypocritical and disingenuous.
You had a reason for writing that piece. Someone will ask you for that reason. Because it was for a college newspaper, pretty much any explanation should suffice. Anything from "I was young" to "I was bored" to "I did it for the free CDs" should be acceptable. It's a student column, not a Supreme Court opinion.
In time, I might have to worry. I'm thinking in particular of the day when I run my campaign to be the second foreign-born president of the United States (the first being Arnold). These might be dug up then. But at that point, I'll wager, my columns in college will be the smallest skeleton in my closet. It'll be like a clown car, if the clowns were dead and the car was a walk-in closet.
But for now? I'm proud of those columns and stand by them. I wrote them because I enjoyed writing, I was looking to get a laugh, and that's what we as college students did at the time. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Now, about that criminal record.
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