The following piece is an opinion and does not reflect the views of The Eagle and its staff. All opinions are edited for grammar, style and argument structure and fact-checked, but the opinions are the writer’s own.
Instagram culture used to mean something. Before the carefully curated feeds, highlight covers and cottagecore, we had “addressing rumors” posts and Instagram Lives where people spilled the tea about breakups. I’m not talking about the Bhad Bhabie and Alabama Barker drama or even the Drake and Kendrick beef. I’m talking about the friends with whom you sat in classes, played sports and fought over shared crushes.
I hate to say it, but I miss when people would announce they were disappearing from social media — they’d almost always be back less than 48 hours later — with a note that said, “Real friends know what’s up.” I miss when people had main accounts just as messy as their spam accounts, and I miss when people had the audacity to be real on social media, even when curating an image was an option.
It’s not just about the drama. It’s the time capsule of blurry photos with friends, questionable color combinations, closeups of random items, filters that didn’t change your entire bone structure and “keep calm” memes. It represents a time when people cared more about sharing their lives than pretending to be perfect and didn’t take themselves too seriously. I miss the days before we all became so obsessed with being perceived as mysterious and required ten people’s approval before making a post.
Part of this is due to the lack of distinction between career and personal lives. We’ve lost the freedom to be carefree because of the consequences we face for doing so. It isn’t uncommon for jobs to request your social media handles or have strict guidelines regarding what you can and can not post on your social media. For instance, a debate sparked on TikTok regarding law students and practicing attorneys who make content part-time and their ability to be regarded as professionals in the industry, especially for women of color working in corporate law.
In addition to makeup and lifestyle content, an undeniable aspect of law influencers on social media is discussing law school and the legal profession itself. Law is a notoriously selective field and one with very little diversity: according to the American Bar Association, 14.1% of lawyers are people of color in 2020.
In hopes of changing this, current law students and attorneys have used content creation as a way to connect with others, celebrate the highs and lows of their careers and share advice with people interested in the field. In short, they’re helping break some of the longstanding barriers in the legal profession by making it more accessible.
Still, despite maintaining obvious professional boundaries, such as respecting attorney-client privilege, not revealing firm names and not posting during work hours, they have faced backlash from their firms. These content creators face a decision between building an online platform and practicing law.
Eni Popoola said in a social media post that she submitted a letter of resignation after an unnamed individual from another firm reported her to a partner of her former firm, citing concerns about her “ability to maintain a platform while working at the law firm.” Popoola is not the only case of this happening, and various law content creators have taken steps to avoid this by removing their names from their social media profiles.
Sara Williams, an established attorney with 19 years of experience and a part-time content creator, said in a video, “The practice of law will take everything from you, including yourself.” This isn’t unique to the legal profession, and it extends far beyond trying to be an influencer to things like posting beach photos or nights out.
Not only does this illustrate a longstanding issue where art and creativity are not valued in our society, but it’s also indicative of how completely work has infiltrated our lives. In an increasingly turbulent economy, job security takes precedence over creativity for many, but it’s a choice people shouldn’t have to make in the first place. Your entire life shouldn’t be defined by a Halloween costume, bikini post or reviewing makeup products online. For the most part, what you do outside of work is not your employer’s business, especially if it doesn’t impact your performance.
You can care about your job and still want a life outside of it. People shouldn’t have to choose between their hobbies and their careers. I miss when the choice to be authentic on social media wasn’t a choice, but just something we did. I cannot encourage you enough to take back the choice. Your life is yours.
Adria Liwewe is a sophomore in the School of Public Affairs and a columnist for the Eagle.
This article was edited by Quinn Volpe, Alana Parker and Walker Whalen. Copy editing done by Sabine Kanter-Huchting and Ariana Kavoossi.
