Most agree that teenagers are trend-makers and early adopters of what soon become the latest fads. As a teenager, I relished my trendy identity and enjoyed the superiority complex that developed from my technological expertise. However, I recently turned 20 and was surprised by how soon I felt out of touch.
What made me feel out of touch is the recent trend of “finstagrams,” shorthand for “fake Instagram accounts.” These accounts are still on the same social media platform as regular profiles, but they act as secondary accounts meant only for close friends. Finstagrams are a place for embarrassing pictures to be posted.
Finstagrams are an emerging trend in high school and are matriculating to college campuses at an increasing rate. At its surface, a finstagram is a platform for friends to privately celebrate their true personalities. Underneath their silly exteriors, finstagrams only exist due to the immense pressure placed on young people to be professional online from a young age.
High school students need to look professional and sophisticated online, and many of them keep their Instagram accounts public in order to gain more followers. In my mind, this is similar to the middle school practice of accepting anyone with a mutual friend on Facebook. Only, on Facebook in middle school, all I posted about were my mundane life activities that garnered four to six likes. On Instagram, these photos can be seen by anyone who knows what a hashtag is.
I felt no need to create a separate Facebook account just for my friends — that would make no sense. Facebook was meant for friends to interact with other friends, and only those with a large public image qualify for a secretive Facebook account. Now, many people who are, frankly, unimportant believe they must create an online alias — one that shields reality from their true personality.
Obviously, this need is felt because of the permanent stamp of social media on the Internet. Things you post, no matter how trivial, have a hard time being erased online. This message is ingrained in younger generations’ minds and is still reinforced. It is worrisome that in this environment, some still feel the need to put themselves out there publicly despite the cost. It is only in this scenario that a secondary account made specifically for pictures deemed insufficient for a main Instagram could exist.
I have a younger cousin in the seventh grade. She was recently allowed to get an Instagram and requested to follow me. Not only did she, in a very short amount of time, gain more followers than me, but she now has more than twice the number of followers than I have. I was being bested in something in which I thought I was a pro.
I realized in high school that my technological “expertise” was, to say the least, an exaggeration. I am still unsure as to what exactly a router does, but my parents rely on my brothers and myself to assist them with every tech problem, both trivial and severe. I think my parents are currently running five different Wi-Fis, and I am not sure how that is happening or how to fix it.
Similarly, I am not an expert on how to get the most likes on yoga picture on the beach. I can use Instagram as a marketing tool and a way to share things with those I approve to follow me, but I cannot use it as a way to market myself to those I do not know. For those who can, a finstagram, or any online space where they feel free to express themselves, must feel like a burden being lifted.
So while finstagram accounts may seem trivial, they are a space that was created with the intent to give people some semblance of online privacy back. If a photo that gets deleted after 10 seconds can still reappear, then the privacy of a finstagram is merely a mirage. But, the idea that an ugly selfie now has a place where it can be just that and nothing more is worthwhile, and for those who feel the need to create a finstagram, post your selfies in peace.
