Growing Up in Public

Growing Up in Public Plot Summary

Introduction

When I was fourteen, my cabin at summer camp thought it would be rebellious and feminist to take our "cabin portrait" in our bras. It seemed harmless - not that different from bikini tops in my teenage mind. I wasn't worried about the photo circulating beyond our little camp world, especially since our camp zine was just a black-and-white photocopy. Fast forward to today, and I'm profoundly grateful I grew up before the digital age. If that photo had been taken now, the repercussions could have been serious - online circulation, community judgment, perhaps even legal trouble. Today's young people navigate an entirely different landscape. Every moment of their lives can be tracked, shared, and preserved digitally - whether by their own actions, their peers', or even well-meaning parents. While we navigated our teenage mistakes with relative privacy, today's youth perform the messy, chaotic business of growing up under constant surveillance and potential public scrutiny. This fundamental shift raises critical questions about privacy, identity formation, and the delicate balance between protection and independence. How can young people develop authentic identities when so much of their lives happens in public spaces? How might we guide them to make wise choices without hovering over their every digital move? And most importantly, how can we help them maintain healthy boundaries in a world that increasingly celebrates radical transparency?

Chapter 1: The Surveillance Paradox: When Monitoring Undermines Independence

When a school principal calls me at 7:00 a.m. with an urgent invitation to speak to their community, they're typically dealing with a situation where students have shared something inappropriate that's gone viral. In one recent case, some middle school boys had shared an explicit video of two classmates engaged in a sexual act. Within hours, the video circulated throughout the school and to neighboring schools. Classes were disrupted, and the whole community was in crisis. In the aftermath of such incidents, parents often approach me desperately seeking recommendations for surveillance software to track, monitor, and mirror their teenager's every text, click, and post. They want to prevent similar situations from happening to their children. Their fear is understandable—the digital landscape our children navigate is overwhelming, and the potential for trouble seems limitless. But I urge these anxious parents to ask different questions. "We want to teach kids to do the right thing, not catch them doing the wrong thing," I explain during my talks. While monitoring technology can provide a sense of control, it often undermines the very independence and judgment we're trying to foster in our children. After all, the ultimate goal isn't perfect surveillance—it's raising humans who make good decisions even when we're not watching. "Before you start reading all of their texts," I advise parents, "ask yourselves what you are looking for. Can you withstand living through middle school again by getting a play-by-play of each interaction your child encounters?" Many parents don't realize that constant monitoring can erode trust, inhibit healthy risk-taking, and prevent kids from developing crucial self-regulation skills they'll need for adulthood. The surveillance paradox affects children beyond parental monitoring. Schools use apps to track behavior and academic performance, peers document each other constantly, and social media platforms encourage young people to perform their lives for an audience. All this observation creates a culture where privacy is increasingly rare, yet it's precisely in those private moments that children have traditionally figured out who they are. The most effective approach isn't monitoring but mentoring—helping young people develop an internal moral compass that guides them through digital spaces with empathy and thoughtfulness. Rather than using surveillance to control behavior, we can build relationships where children feel safe discussing their online experiences and mistakes, creating opportunities for growth instead of judgment.

Chapter 2: Digital Identity Formation: Building Character in a Public Arena

When I work with tweens and teens, I often ask them if they know someone whose online image doesn't match their true personality. Almost every hand goes up. After one talk, a father shared his concerns about his eighth-grade son, Rahul. This once thoughtful boy now seemed obsessed with his online persona, trying to keep up with the materialistic displays of wealthier classmates. The posts Rahul shared portrayed someone his father barely recognized—a carefully curated version that seemed to be crowdsourcing his entire personality. Kids experience these jarring disconnects between online personas and real people daily. They tell me stories about classmates who are wild and funny online but reserved in person, friends who swear constantly in real life but present a squeaky-clean image online, or peers who seem "normal and chill" in person but come across as egotistical in their posts. This constant performance becomes exhausting, yet the pressure to maintain it feels inescapable. For adolescents, a certain amount of identity shifting between environments is both typical and expected. What's new is how these shifting identities are now captured, broadcast, and preserved through social media. Every post, like, and comment becomes part of a public record, inviting immediate feedback on their evolving sense of self. The consequences can be profound—some teens become so focused on maintaining their digital presence that they lose sight of who they really are. Sidney, a fourteen-year-old homeschooled girl, moderates a Discord server called "Girl Talk" that she considers family. She joined during the pandemic seeking connection and quickly found herself responsible for managing an online community. While the server provides genuine support, Sidney also faces the burden of moderating difficult conversations—including talking people out of suicide attempts. "Sometimes it is scary," she admitted. "We've had a few people who have said really serious things and just disappeared." This digital arena brings both opportunities and pitfalls. Young activists like Catlyn Savado use platforms like Twitter to amplify their political voices in ways previous generations couldn't imagine. Meanwhile, ordinary teens worry about their posts being taken out of context or coming back to haunt them years later. The constant awareness of being watched shapes how they present themselves, often leading to anxiety about authenticity versus acceptance. The most resilient young people seem to be those who understand social media as performance rather than reality. They distance themselves from the fiction of perfect lives and approach social platforms with healthy skepticism. Parents can help by teaching children to pay attention to their emotional temperature when looking at social media and by encouraging activities that restore them when comparison culture becomes overwhelming.

Chapter 3: Privacy Boundaries: When Parents Share Too Much

At my workshops in elementary and middle schools, I tell kids, "Step into the circle if a peer has shared a photo of you that you wish they hadn't," and some kids step in. But when I ask them to step in if they have experienced a parent posting an embarrassing photo, almost all the kids step into the circle. Malaya, a high school junior, shared her experience: "I didn't really go on Facebook when I was little. So I didn't really know what my mom did or didn't post. A few years ago, I saw my mom's Facebook for the first time. I was not happy, because of course moms always have to post the most unflattering pictures. Right away, I was like, 'Oh my god—I have to stop her from posting all this stuff!'" She continued, "I play violin, and I told her, 'You are not allowed to post anymore. Especially no more orchestra performances, because I don't want everyone to know that I play violin.' It's embarrassing in my opinion to play, like, an instrument, because I don't play a sport. I'm not athletic or anything. So... I don't like it. People make fun of me for it. For playing the violin." Parents share about their children for many reasons. We're proud of their accomplishments and want to mark important milestones. We seek support from other parents, sharing common experiences about the challenges of raising children. Sharing satisfies a deep urge to connect, empathize, and problem-solve together. It helps us feel less isolated in our parenting struggles. Yet by sharing in digital spaces, we may be compromising our child's current and future privacy. We are the first stewards of our child's online reputation, starting with that postpartum photo of the first precious embrace. We share because our children are beautiful and perfect, because we're bursting with pride, because we want to share our joy with those who care about us. We share because others are doing it, and we don't want to seem like we don't love our kids. Since it's part of our story, we often don't stop to think that it's not only our story to tell. The other person in the story is our child, and we're telling their story too—sometimes without their knowledge or consent. As our children get older, we can ask for their permission, but even if they're old enough to give it, do they fully understand the implications? Do they comprehend the potential impact on their privacy and future reputation? This "sharenting" phenomenon requires us to carefully balance our needs with our children's right to privacy and self-determination. It asks us to consider not just what we gain by sharing, but what our children might lose—and whether that tradeoff is fair to make on their behalf.

Chapter 4: Digital Reputation: Consequences of Oversharing and Mistakes

Hannah was a first-year student at a large, diverse suburban high school in Illinois. During the early days of the COVID-19 lockdown, Hannah—who identifies as white—reposted a meme that blamed China for the emergence of the virus. It was an ill-fated attempt at humor, and the xenophobic overtones initially eluded her. Since school had pivoted to remote classes, she wasn't seeing her friends and classmates, so it took a while for her to realize that her peers were offended. Eventually, Mira, a classmate, texted Hannah directly: "Do you even get how racist and stupid that meme was?" Hannah scrolled back to the post and recognized that the other girl was right. She felt remorseful and stupid—and took down the meme immediately. The damage, however, was done. When Hannah returned to in-person school the next year, the consequences of posting that meme became evident. "She had a reputation as 'the girl that shared that on Instagram,'" Mira told me. "A lot of people didn't like her after that." Mira acknowledged that Hannah probably didn't realize the impact the meme would have or how it would affect people. "I think she's tried to learn from that mistake, and gradually people are recognizing that she's grown as a person... But she's always going to have that post as a part of her reputation." We live in a "gotcha" culture where our thoughts—well-considered or not—can be posted on social media and shared with others at lightning speed. Ubiquitous smartphone cameras allow people to capture our worst moments and expose them to the world. Teenagers, whose brains are still developing, are particularly vulnerable to impulsive posting. For them, the imagined reward of "Everybody's gonna think it's funny" may outweigh consideration of negative consequences that they might not have considered: "This might actually be problematic because it's racist/hateful/misinformed." The permanent nature of digital content means that mistakes that previous generations could learn from privately now follow young people indefinitely. In the case of Charlotte de Vries, a field hockey recruit at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, an Instagram video of her saying a racial slur as a high school junior went public, causing her to lose her spot on the team. She apologized and eventually was admitted to Syracuse University. However, two years later, in the midst of racial tensions on campus, the video resurfaced and exposed her again. While we should never excuse harmful behavior, adults should be cautious about weaponizing social media against young people. Shaming might seem like an appropriate response, but total shunning from the community can have tragic consequences. When we simply shame students without addressing the origins of their actions, we may isolate them further. Once isolated, they may become more entrenched in antisocial beliefs rather than learning and growing from their mistakes. Instead of teaching kids "Don't get caught," we need to teach them not to be hateful, racist, or xenophobic in the first place. We need to help them develop empathy and understanding, to see the impact of their words and actions on others. The digital world demands that we do the deeper work of character education rather than merely enforcing compliance through fear of consequences.

Chapter 5: Sexting and Digital Intimacy: Navigating Personal Boundaries

Jianna and Ethan were enjoying the excitement of a first romantic relationship in eighth grade. They sat together at lunch, sent each other texts throughout the day, chatted on apps late into the evening, made Spotify playlists, and annoyed their friends by talking constantly about one another. Although they hadn't been sexually active beyond kissing, they decided to exchange "sexy" photos. While Ethan texted Jianna a photo that wasn't that revealing and didn't show his face, Jianna sent Ethan a topless image that was more identifiable. They promised to keep the photos private. Initially, Ethan intended to honor their plan, but his best friend coaxed him into forwarding the image of Jianna to their friend group. With some reservation, he eventually gave in. After a few months, Ethan and Jianna ended their relationship and moved on. But unbeknownst to Jianna, her picture kept circulating, passing from classmate to classmate throughout their middle school. Soon, kids started coughing and whispering "slut" when Jianna walked by. One afternoon, she opened her school email to find a video with her image with sound effects from a porn video playing with it. She slammed her laptop shut, called her parents saying she was sick and needed to be picked up, and refused to return to school. Few things kids can do with their phones stoke parents' fears as much as sexting—sending and receiving sexually explicit messages, images, or videos via text, email, airdrop, or social media. A study published in JAMA Pediatrics found that almost 15 percent of kids ages twelve to seventeen have sent an explicit message, while 27 percent have received one. These numbers have increased since the pandemic began. Why do kids send nudes when they know what can go wrong? Research shows many reasons: it feels pleasurable and exciting; they hope to impress a crush; they're in a relationship and want to deepen intimacy; they can't figure out how to say no; the asker is persistent; or they fear consequences if they refuse. Some do it to experiment with sexual personae they're too nervous to try in real life, or simply to be validated in their attractiveness. The social risks and consequences of sexting reveal that a double standard persists. In a boy/girl heterosexual context, girls usually pay a much higher social price when things go wrong—whether she sent an explicit image freely or under coercion. Boys who share photos of girls may gain social status, while girls are slut-shamed and ostracized. One sexuality educator described how after two ninth graders broke up, the boy shared pictures the girl had sent him: "His reputation only improved after he shared those photos with other people, whereas her reputation suffered. She was slut-shamed." The girl even lost some girlfriends in the process. Rather than using fear tactics to scare teens, parents can mentor them on consent, flirting, relationships, and negotiating boundaries. We can teach them the importance of never sharing an explicit message or photograph of another person without consent. We can help them understand that if someone consents to sending an explicit image, they are not consenting to having it shared with others. Most importantly, we must empower kids to seek help if someone violates their boundaries or if they make a mistake themselves—creating an environment where they feel safe coming to us without fear of judgment.

Chapter 6: Finding Balance: Mentoring vs. Monitoring in a Digital Age

In the last ten years, digital apps and online portals that track and share our kids' behavior and academic performance in real time have become the norm. Apps like ClassDojo, PupilPath, PowerSchool, and Infinite Campus give parents unprecedented access to their kids' school life. ClassDojo is now used in 95 percent of elementary schools in the US. Students collect positive points when they engage in appropriate behaviors such as "working hard," "staying on task," "following instructions," and "helping others"—and negative points when they engage in inappropriate behaviors. Isabel was a happy six-year-old who came to kindergarten with excitement after a great experience in preschool. She loved learning and had no problem sitting still, raising her hand, or following directions. But within a few weeks of starting kindergarten, she started to dread going and fretted over the points on ClassDojo. If too many days went by without getting a reward (while others got them), she would feel that she wasn't doing well, or that the teacher wasn't noticing her good behavior. "It's not fair," she would tell her mom. "I never talk without raising my hand, but she never gives me points for that." Her mother was heartbroken to see her curious, enthusiastic daughter get so focused on the points rather than on reading, math, coloring, and playing with friends. Once students reach middle and high school, the stakes get even higher. Grade-tracking apps push notifications of any new assignment or quiz grade to parents' and students' devices. Multiple adolescents and parents used the term "addictive" when describing their relationship with these apps. The research team at Challenge Success found that 10 percent of the middle school students they surveyed check grading apps more than once a day; another 20 percent check daily. Some high schoolers check even more frequently, convinced that one bad quiz grade can derail their college chances. "I've helped him financially a few times," one mother told me about her college-age son, "but he works full-time now. He's working at Jimmy John's and at a parking garage—jobs that will allow him to claim residency." Her son had lost his scholarship after his grades slipped during his first year at college. When he started university, he had given his parents permission to access his grades, but as soon as he started doing poorly, he rescinded their access. This mother pointed out that her son would now have to file the paperwork with the university himself, documenting his work and lease and getting a driver's license in-state. "We're not doing it for him," she told me. "We'll pay tuition, but only at the lower in-state rate, since he blew the scholarship." The balance between mentoring and monitoring becomes particularly crucial as young people transition to adulthood. The moment when teens turn eighteen, they are entitled to total academic privacy—even if parents are paying their bills. Their grades, attendance, and more are protected by privacy laws, specifically FERPA (Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act). Similarly, HIPAA (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) protects their medical information from parental access without consent. This transition can be jarring for parents accustomed to tracking every aspect of their children's lives. But it's a necessary step in helping young people develop the independence and responsibility they'll need as adults. Rather than monitoring their every move, parents can better serve their children by mentoring them—teaching them how to advocate for themselves, maintain boundaries, and make decisions based on their own values rather than external surveillance.

Chapter 7: Moving Forward: Preparing Youth for Digital Autonomy

For parents who are used to knowing so much about their kids when they're living at home—the food they eat, when they wake up and go to sleep, what their plans are, how much stress they're under—the transition to life after high school can be especially challenging. Many parents are nervous about their eighteen-year-old's ability to handle basic life skills, emotional issues, and their own digital records, privacy, and long-term reputation. These concerns aren't entirely misplaced. Turning eighteen isn't a magical transition to full adulthood. Neuroscience informs us that adolescent brain development continues into our twenties. Yet our digital tools often create a sharp cutoff—suddenly granting full privacy rights to young people who may not be fully prepared to manage them independently. Meredith Balogh was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when she was twelve years old. Her mother taught her how to manage her blood sugar and her medical records. The first few times Meredith got on the phone with medical offices or health insurers, she was a scared high school student. Eventually, she became a "medical ninja," who helps other people negotiate their medical care and bills. "At fourteen, my mom had me get on the phone with insurance," Meredith said. While she initially felt her mother was throwing her into the deep end, she is grateful now that her mom taught her how to obtain medical records and self-advocate in a system that can disempower even the savviest adult patients. Rather than waiting until the legal transition at eighteen, parents can gradually prepare children for digital autonomy throughout adolescence. Family physician Dr. Deborah Gilboa points out that for a healthy tween or teen who only visits the doctor annually, that's just six opportunities before adulthood to practice self-advocacy. She recommends helping kids "practice" these skills at every annual visit starting at age eleven or twelve, encouraging them to spend time with their pediatrician without parents in the room. Young people also need practice managing their digital reputation. Instead of threatening them with potential consequences ("You won't get into college if you post that!"), parents can help them align their online actions with their values. When a child posts something that seems insensitive, parents might ask: "Is this in line with the kind of person you want to be?" This approach focuses on character development rather than external validation or fear of punishment. The goal isn't perfect children who never make mistakes—it's children who develop the judgment, resilience, and moral compass to navigate an increasingly complex digital world. By focusing on mentoring rather than monitoring, parents can help their children develop these crucial skills while maintaining the trust and openness that will allow them to seek help when they need it.

Summary

Growing up in public fundamentally changes how young people develop their sense of self. When every misstep can be recorded, every embarrassing moment preserved, and every impulsive share potentially permanent, the stakes of adolescence feel impossibly high. Yet the answer isn't more surveillance—it's better mentoring. Throughout this exploration of digital childhood, we've seen how constant monitoring can undermine the very independence, judgment, and self-regulation we hope to foster in our children. The most powerful approach combines clear boundaries with genuine trust. We can teach our children to be intentional about what they share and with whom. We can model thoughtful digital citizenship ourselves by respecting our children's privacy and asking permission before posting about them. We can focus on building character rather than managing reputation, helping our children align their online actions with their deepest values. Most importantly, we can create family cultures where mistakes are seen as opportunities for growth rather than permanent stains on one's record. In this environment, children feel safe coming to us when things go wrong—whether they've made a poor choice themselves or been harmed by someone else's actions. By mentoring rather than just monitoring, we prepare our children not just for navigating today's digital landscape, but for thriving as the thoughtful, independent adults we hope they'll become.

About Author

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Devorah Heitner

ABOUT THE AUTHORDr. Devorah Heitner is the author of Screenwise: Helping Kids Thrive (and Survive) in Their Digital World and her book on navigating privacy and reputation with kids and teens, Growing Up in Public will be out Septmber with Penguin Random House.Dr. Heitner’s work has appeared in the New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, and CNN Opinion. She has a Ph.D. in Media/Technology & Society from Northwestern University and has taught at DePaul and Northwestern. She is delighted to be raising her own teenager and she lives with her family in Chicagoland. You can follow her on Twitter @Devorahheitner and on Instagram @devorahheitnerphd.

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