I don’t remember the internet coming “on” the way that I remember MTV coming on air. The digital world just kind of seeped into my life in the late ‘90s when I started using chat rooms for fun and “electronic mail” occasionally at work. I would print my boss’s emails, he’d write his responses and then I’d type and send the response.

But eventually, I saved enough money to have the phone company put an extra jack in my rundown one-bedroom apartment. I unplugged my cordless phone in the kitchen, and plugged in my refurbished tangerine iMac. I waited for the “starting up” screen to load and once I knew we were both ready to go on an adventure, I moused over to explore my new world. Click…click…Beeee-boop, SKREEEEE, Ch-ch-ch-ch (pause here for panic to see whether you’d be able to connect or not) and then the sweet sound of silence—connection!

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I was in love.

Not only was I able to entertain myself, but I was also able to research and learn about things without relying on outdated books or talking to people I didn’t want to. I was able to keep in touch with friends in other towns and make friends with people I never intended to meet in the “real world.” This was a new frontier, and as the youngest generation in the workplace we were explorers and navigators, translators of the new language… not unlike my beloved Gen Z’ers now. We relished in stumbling onto the weirdest sites and, without the ability to share in the moment, our water cooler conversations came alive at work the next day while ignoring eye rolls from the Boomers who just didn’t get it. We lived without an algorithm, no reason for seeing what you saw—good or bad, it was a gamble with every login.

I was still in my teens when I moved to Los Angeles on my own. As a mom now, I’d say way too young. But, you couldn’t tell me anything then, and it’s still pretty hard. The bulk of my day, usually more than half of it (even without a smartphone) was taken up by work or driving. So, at the cost of sleep, the internet became a gathering place for girls like me just as much as the bars and clubs I got into with my fake ID.

Your name tag at this new congregation was a homepage that you designed. Looking back, it seems so modest. No one knew what they were doing and we had no idea one day we’d have something fancy like MySpace to templatize our bio and showcase all the cool people we called friends (‘sup, Tom). The world wide web was under construction while we were living in it, and creatively speaking, there were no rules. If you were a real ace, you had a hit count or some bad ass MIDI music on your site, which was probably breaking it constantly, but this wasn’t about function, this was fashion!

You could be online and anonymous without being creepy (but of course that changed as it always does). You had a username, not a brand. Conversations could go on for days or seconds and when you logged off, you disappeared until you chose to reappear. There was no real footprint, no receipts. You could experiment with your identity and your ideas and if you didn’t want to revisit, you left. If you were targeted, it may have been a digital inconvenience, but it wouldn’t ruin your life. You simply created a new username and moved on.

Chat gave way to Messenger (today’s Slack) and for me, went from being a platform for fun to a tool to use at work. I still remember abandoning my AOL Messenger when I went to work for Yahoo! and to be frank, I never used Messenger (or really email) for personal entertainment again. My eye was caught by the social networks and as they started to bubble up, it was a natural transition to walk down those roads socially as our parents and older co-workers logged on and began to forward email chain letters asking us, “Is this ok to click on?”

We crashed often. We learned the art of saving as we went like it was religion. One bad GIF could take Netscape to its knees. One image reveal could take an hour. There was no warning for shock sites or disturbing content you clicked on by accident. The banners were plenty! It was very bright. You were always worried about getting hacked.  It was dangerous. Viruses were everywhere. Every attachment was a potential attack. You’d shut your computer down in a panic hoping if you didn’t see them, they couldn’t see you. Trolls turned message boards hostile fast. Moderation for harassment was self-managed within the communities. Nothing worked together and everything was wildly incompatible. You had plug-ins (shout out RealPlayer) and you paid for the internet by the minute so you cherished and appreciated the access (or you used it at work because you couldn’t afford it at home).

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I say all of this to convey that times were not actually simpler in the first decades of the internet. In fact, this brave new world was clunky, misunderstood, frustrating, weaponized, politicized and dismissed at every step. It had blind spots, violations and countless reiterations with innumerable comings and goings. While yes, media became easier to upload, consume and share, and communities became more robust and popular, the real world was far behind. We found ourselves sitting at a crossroads of consumerism without any mechanism to control its monetization. They got scared, and instead of working with what was working and fixing what wasn’t, they tried to shut us down. But for us, the kids growing up with the first taste of infinite media without gatekeeping, we were never going back. We loved the internet and what it stood for: freedom.

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The infinite loop of progress we are experiencing right now is not new. It’s a cycle across all generations. We asked for regulation, controlled search, data security and IP compensation. We asked for a way to reach users… a way to make money. We got it all.

Then we fight to stay relevant while rebellious alternates grow and the younger generation claims revolutions for themselves. We watch from the sidelines as new technology is born that we don’t understand. Change is hard. Advancement is scary. Admitting what worked isn’t working anymore and saying you aren’t sure how the new thing works is difficult. But change is in our digital DNA. It’s going to be ok!

Like any technology, the old folks dismiss it, the young folks embrace it and the world turns. Nothing is new. Love is love and I still love the internet.

Be good online… and in real life,
Jennie

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