Power of Blogging

In a recent conversations with one of my coworkers, I mentioned something about my blogging. (Just for some context, I work at a medical clinic in the records department. My position, although somewhat professional, does not require either experience or a degree, and pays just pennies above Washington state's minimum wage.) In the past few months I've become quite fond of this woman, though she’s twice my age and has the opposite of my political/social views. It came up in casual conversation, and once I mentioned that I did indeed write a public blog that could be accessed by anyone anywhere in the world she became quite visibly disturbed.

“I don’t like that.”
“What?”
“I just don’t like it!”
“What do you mean you don’t like it?”
“I mean, I don’t like that anyone in the world could read it. You don’t know who might be reading it, it could be murderers! Pedophiles! Anyone could read it and know personal things about you and come find you.”
“First of all, Im twenty. They aren’t pedophiles if Im not a child. And second, I don’t post secure information. I do blog about personal experiences in my life, but I do so because I believe in the power of blogging.”

I went on to explain myself as clearly as I knew how, (which was poorly, as my command of language lies in my writing and not my speaking.) My basic philosophy, as I told her, is that blogging is a way to read a chapter of the human experience as told by someone you would have never come in contact with otherwise. Because of blogs, I have read the personal accounts of missionaries in third world countries, independent artists in New York, and of a call girl living and working in London. I’ve learned of the daily challenges of those who struggle against poverty, depression, and raising children alone. They are complete strangers, but we are connected through blogs. I blog to offer my personal account of life; a female living away from home, and surviving on the line between student and adult.

I felt empowered after my mini speech, confident that at least one of my hobbies is a meaningful one. My coworker was quiet as I swiveled by chair back to my desk and again began filing loose paperwork into charts, my mind still processing the ability of something as simple as blogs that have the power to unite the human spirit across the globe.

“Well, I still don’t like it.”