Looking at Angelica then is a world away from looking at her now. Before social media took hold of her, her whole life was right there. She was always happy, playful, carefree, curious. She found good in everyone. She used to be very involved in sports, and it was a whole family thing; her father was her volleyball coach for a few years, and I ran the snack bar. It was social.
When she was 12, she got her own phone for the first time. As a parent, you want your child to be included, to be social, to be safe. When we got her a smartphone for middle school, we thought we were doing the right thing and keeping her safe. With the stories we had heard about school violence and general crime throughout our city, we thought we were giving her a way to contact us in an emergency. But it pushed us apart. Within a few months, I felt her slipping away. Her use evolved from watching funny animal videos and messaging her friends with innocent filters to something darker. As time went by, she’d spend more time by herself on her phone. She didn’t want to engage in her usual sports. She didn’t want to spend time with us. She did not even like spending time with friends that she had known her whole life anymore. We tried to restrict the time she spent on the phone, but she just became more secretive. It grew into an obsession.
She insisted that messaging apps were the only way her friends communicated, so when she asked to use Snapchat, I downloaded it to evaluate its features. All I could see were light, entertaining videos. Funny filters. A way to connect to friends who were in my contact lists to chat with them. Nothing harmful. I had no idea of the dangers. I reluctantly agreed, taking steps that I thought safeguarded us against all my concerns- I researched and downloaded the best parent monitoring apps available at the time and signed up for a course with parenting advice on managing the “teen digital experience.” At the time, I didn’t know that what I was seeing wasn’t what she was seeing. Now I understand that the content targeted to me as a 40-year-old woman was very different from what she, a girl of 14 was seeing. When you pick up a book, you read the same book. But an app is different, it’s customized to you. Every key you type, and every stroke you make provides a data point that the apps can use to identify your interests, your age, and all sorts of personal information- all without you ever “giving” it to them. Location, required by most apps to access it’s features, allows anyone to discover and contact you. App designs like disappearing messages, streaks, embedded algorithms, and nonstop scrolling features create a perfect storm- where kids are lured to access the app frequently and for increasing times, all the while encouraging secretive behaviors, pushing obscene content, and prompting connections with dangerous strangers.
All along, Angelica was being targeted with content about drugs- menus of all the pills she could get at the click of a button, sent via private messages sent by adults who did not know her. $5, delivered anywhere in the city. No cash needed, with a whole exchange system set up via digital currency over apps. Strangers offering our baby girl drugs every single day. It was only a matter of time until she “took the bait.”
By Eighth Grade, it was like she was a different girl. Defiant, argumentative…everything just escalated. Her clothes changed, her music tastes changed, and the people she spent all her time talking to changed. She began showing signs of depression and ran away several times, each time for longer. The more we tried to talk to her, to set limits, to encourage her in a positive way, and to get her into counselling, the more withdrawn she became- saying we were too controlling. It got to a point where she learned how to bypass the monitoring apps from people online or through internet searches; she wouldn’t let us see her phone- she’d hide it or show us a different phone. When we did take it away, I was unaware that she was easily able to get discarded phones from “friends” at school, create new accounts, and have access to Wi-Fi nearly anywhere- or she would simply use other kids phones at school, at sports events, or anywhere she was.
Then, in Freshman Year, she disappeared. Each day, each week that went by, I thought that she would surely come home soon. We put up missing posters, we talked to detectives, and knocked on “friends” doors; we used to drive around at night in the worst areas in town searching for her (and only finding so many other girls who looked just like her). After five months, I got a call from the police. I’ll never forget their words – “Your daughter has overdosed.”. Time stopped. No parent should have to experience that feeling.
Fortunately, we’ve had a second chance. When she came back we went back to basics, just trying to keep her alive. I didn’t want to lose her again, so it was a really delicate balance. We met her needs, made sure she felt listened to, and gave her the freedom she needed without restriction. That’s what helped us start to rebuild our family. There was a lot of anger, a lot of sadness, from all of us. I used to wake up at 2am to make sure she was still breathing and still there. As parents, we each went through moments of emotional struggles, feelings of helplessness and angst, and had many negative physical manifestations of the stress of it all. It has had a huge negative impact on ALL of our family members.
We’re lucky in some ways, because Angelica realized the toll social media has had on her life, and on us- thanks to amazing people that shared their knowledge and insight on the issue. So she’s a lot more aware. She does still have it, but she’s a lot more cautious. She’s learned to separate herself from what she sees on the screen. She understands how the features are applied- by opening a post, it increases similar posts by tenfold. By accepting a message from someone sharing illicit content, it recommends others they are connected to, who in turn message with more illicit content. She keeps the location turned off. But even now, she’s still being served content I wish she wasn’t. Videos of naked men, of people shooting themselves in the head, colorful drug menus, images that invite eating disorders by promoting unhealthy body images, and even the unimaginable things like ads encouraging young teen girls to make money through surrogacy. But she doesn’t try and hide it from us anymore, so we can talk about it openly. She will never be the same, but she has a chance- which is sadly not the case for so many other families who receive the same call from the police that I did but for whom resuscitation was not successful.
What we’ve gone through is terrifying, strangers coming in and changing your child’s outcome. No parent should have to go through that. But as I’m talking to people, I can see that they’re becoming more aware of the dangers. I’m hopeful that by sharing my story, we can save more than one child’s life, and that families who might be experiencing similar things will remember- never give up on your child, they do not understand, choose, or want this. There are many others who are going through the same thing… we have to be united and reach out for help when it is needed. There should be no taboo or blame assigned to parents who have their child’s future in mind, and are taking rational steps but combatting irrational conditions.