College without Facebook. It sounds like a punishment (“Go to your room…and no Facebook!”) or an alternate reality wherein shy kids are doomed to face-to-face interactions and future employers have no basis to judge professionalism based on a crazy foam party. But let’s imagine, for just 1,000 words or so, what college would be like without it. Take a deep breath, log out (seriously, I’ll wait…no, don’t just minimize…) and venture through the rabbit hole into college life, without Facebook.
Happy Birthday To…?
It seems like a normal day—you put off your morning jog because your alarm “didn’t go off” and grab coffee and a granola bar at the student center on your way to class. You find a seat next to your friend in the half-full lecture hall (it’s still early in the semester so no one feels compelled to learn about Margaret Mead just yet) and start a conversation about the weather. Or something. But your friend isn’t making eye contact, she keeps checking her phone, she seems to be waiting for you to share some exciting bit of news.
As you’re leaving the classroom, a bubbly girl runs up to your friend and hugs her. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she shouts. You completely forgot. No Facebook, no birthday reminders, no friend-of-the-year award. Maybe next year.
Call Me Beep Me If You Want To Reach Me
Losing your phone is (hopefully) the closest you’ll ever come to living out the recurring nightmare where you show up topless to the junior prom. You feel naked, baffled, isolated, stupid, confused, and completely out of touch. And without that helpful (albeit horribly annoying) “I lost my number” Facebook event, you would have to get creative in order to retrieve all of the missing digits. As entertaining as large chalk signs on sidewalks, helicopters dropping slips of confetti with your new number, and renting radio time to make a public announcement may be, it’s just not as practical as a (horribly annoying) group. No Facebook in college? Good luck maintaining friendships after phone theft.
I’m Here!
What is it about college that facilitates this weird social standard that if you’re not out every night having the time of your life, you must be a librarian or an engineering student? Not only do we go to parties to dress in themed costumes and grind with guys we’re too scared to talk to sober, we go to be seen. But imagine a world without the weekend Facebook albums documenting exactly who was doing what with whom in such-and-such a place. You’d be free to grab your girls and cuddle up in your jammies with a romantic comedy, a tub of cookie dough, and a grocery store bottle of wine, and no one would be the wiser. Can you image the possibilities?! “Yeah I was totally at last night’s rager…” They won’t remember, and without Facebook, your secret is safe with me, and Hugh Grant.
Exam Week
Mark Zuckerburg is said to periodically wake up in a cold sweat, shuddering in terror while muttering to himself “exam week…exam week…” (No one knows for sure because he doesn’t have many sleepovers and his neighbors have never heard a peep–bags of money are rather effective at stifling noise.) But one thing is sure: final exam period is the time when college and Facebook butt heads, each vying for supremacy in the collegiette’s™ perpetually decreasing free time. But an exam week without Facebook—as torturous as it may be—has a relatively simple and predictable outcome: better grades. It’s something we actually can imagine. Sorry, Mark.
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Freshman! Freshman!
The summer months leading up to freshman orientation are anxiety-ridden, to say the least. It seems so sure that if you have the wrong bedding you’ll be a pariah, if you forget a nail clipper you won’t be able to snip your toe nails for the next eight months, if you’re too dressy on the first day you’ll be the over-eager beauty queen, but if you dress down you’ll be immediately approached to serve as captain of the intramural softball team. Luckily, pre-college Facebook groups allow the (inevitably) weirdest, most timid pre-Frosh to organize their peers in order to feel—at least virtually—accepted on move-in day. No Facebook? Good look random-rooming, making plans in person, organically learning who’s from your tri-state area, and using personal judgment to discern if you’ll need a fake ID. In other words, without Facebook eager collegiettes™ would have to wait until college to be in college. And what a tragedy that would be.
In A Relationship
In every relationship there’s a magical moment where you and your partner agree that hooking up with other people isn’t worth risking the good thing you’ve got going with one another. You’re exclusive, together, “in a relationship.” But without Facebook how do you get attention for accomplishing this impressive interpersonal feat? How do you prove to the world, your mother, and your loser ex that you are, in fact, a perfectly loveable (or at least dateable) human being?! Texts, maybe. Phone calls work. Lots and lots of PDA does the job, though makes you susceptible to criminal charges for public indecency. Without Facebook, and hence public recognition of your private prowess, being in a relationship just means, well, being in a relationship. And what’s the fun in that?
So, what’s the plan?
There’s a legend that, before Facebook events, college students would put on their makeup and stirrup pants (hey, it was the 80’s) and roam the streets, looking for parties. They’d pace frat row, not sure if strange basement noises signified jello shots or organized crime; they’d walk from bar to bar, curious as to whether cover charges funded social relief efforts or the bouncer’s drug habit; they’d knock on dorm room doors and ask—face to face—“Hey, what’s going on tonight?” Fliers were essential, word of mouth was key, and sometimes people even used landlines to organize pre-games. A world where wannabe witty party-planners had to find ways to impress strangers, besides posting pictures of kittens chugging beers on the event page for their upcoming birthday party? I can’t even imagine.
College without Facebook seems as antiquated as the Walkman. We plan, date, stalk, rush, learn, and live according to our newsfeeds. But maybe, even just for the five minutes it will take you to read this reflection on the site, we could learn something about living offline, unplugged, and in person?
Who am I kidding? Feel free to log back on.