Gossip, Plastics, and MoveableType: My Mean Girls-Style High School Drama Gossip Site

In high school, I often found myself inspired by ideas I wanted to put to the test, often for the sake of conducting social experiments.

My classmates were well aware of my website, where I chronicled my thoughts, launched experimental projects, and orchestrated various antics. It served as a hub for my creative endeavors and a platform for testing the boundaries of social interaction.

In my sophomore year of high school, I embarked on a project to create an anonymous message system for my fellow students. The inspiration struck after encountering RateMyTeachers.com, a platform allowing students to rate and discuss their teachers. I was designated as the administrator for our school on the site, responsible for approving reviews about our teachers.

In 2003, an opportunity arose when they sought volunteer administrators to maintain a school-focused platform. This involved updating staff lists, ensuring reviews were pertinent, and upholding platform rules. Intrigued by the concept, I volunteered and quickly became enamored with the site’s potential.

I was captivated by the concept of an anonymous online space, where students could freely express themselves. My penchant for pushing boundaries led me to wonder if my school would follow suit with others in banning the site. I firmly believed in students’ rights to express themselves responsibly, and I was prepared to advocate against any censorship.

I had already extensively explored Moveable Type and was eager to push its boundaries for website creation. So, I didn’t limit myself to just my personal blog; I decided to create a ‘gossip blog’ or forum for my high school.

The concept was simple: users could post entries and comment using their own accounts, or utilize a shared ‘burner’ account known to all. To maintain anonymity, I used the same generic username and password employed for school computer systems, allowing anyone familiar with it to post without revealing their identity. Additionally, users could create pseudonymous accounts if they preferred.

Unlike modern technologies with their public-private key encryption, blogging platforms at that time lacked such advanced privacy features. Users had to rely on creating accounts or using the shared burner account for anonymity.

Naturally, the site was accessible to all students and staff at my high school. This intentional design choice was aimed at observing the dynamics that would unfold. I dubbed the site “Blocked,” anticipating that the school administration would swiftly restrict access, a move I fully expected within the confines of the high school network.

News about the site spread rapidly throughout the school, despite minimal promotion on my part. A simple mention on my blog, which enjoyed considerable daily traffic within the school network, was all it took for word to circulate that there was now a platform for discussing a myriad of topics.

Before long, the site became a hub for various discussions, ranging from complaints about teachers to commendations, amusing anecdotes, and even some questionable tales and gossip. It served as a sanctuary for free expression, akin to platforms like Secret App or YikYak, predating the existence of either app.

With the spread of word, the site experienced a significant surge in traffic, accompanied by a growing number of student registrations. Interestingly, as students shared their thoughts about particular teachers, I noticed several staff members signing up for accounts and joining the conversations (looking back, it’s quite amusing).

However, the pseudonymous nature of the platform led to some students attempting to uncover the identities of others, hoping to coax them into revealing information that would expose their real identities. On the flip side, some users expressed frustration with the existence of “student” accounts, as they were challenging to identify due to their shared nature. Additionally, there were suspicions among certain users that the site was merely a trap set up by the school to monitor student activity.

Observing the dynamics unfold in near-real-time was incredibly fascinating for me, and I found myself constantly checking the website throughout the school day. Often, I’d bring one of my laptops to school, discreetly opening it up in class to see what was happening.

Back then, laptops weren’t a common sight in classrooms, and I half-expected to be told to put it away. However, either assuming I was diligently taking notes (which I was) or perhaps appreciating the tech assistance I’d provided them, most teachers didn’t object to my laptop use during class.

Things really escalated when I attended a party with many of my classmates one night. As we sat around the bonfire enjoying ourselves, someone suddenly asked the host if they had a computer to briefly access the internet. They wanted to visit the website, and soon, many at the party joined in, eager to uncover the identity of another user.

It was fascinating to see how it unfolded, and it confirmed to me that I was onto something significant. The conversation at the party revolved around many of the posts on the site.

However, I also found myself needing to delete a few posts. Some crossed the line into being overly offensive or in poor taste. While I aimed to uphold freedom of speech, I also wanted to ensure that no one felt bullied—well, at least not the students.

As the end of the school year approached, I received a summons to the principal’s office one day, signaling that the administration was well aware of the website. I braced myself for potential repercussions, prepared to defend my First Amendment rights if necessary. However, to my surprise, the outcome was different.

Word had spread about the meeting, and many speculated that it spelled the end of the site. Yet, contrary to expectations, the administrators viewed it as an intriguing social experiment, offering valuable insights into student sentiments in real-time. While they expressed concerns about potential bullying, they didn’t demand the site’s closure.

During our discussion, they questioned the choice of the name “Blocked,” noting that the site wasn’t blocked. I explained my anticipation that it would have been, but they assured me that wasn’t their intention. However, they did express concerns about the site’s potential distraction during school hours.

As the school year drew to a close, they suggested that site activity might naturally decrease over the summer and pledged to monitor it closely when the new school year began in the fall.

Upon returning to the site, I shared the details of my meeting with the school administration. Many students expressed frustration upon learning that the school was monitoring the site. Some suggested putting the entire site behind a password system to restrict access, while others advocated for deleting the generic user account. However, I remained steadfast in my commitment to the principles of free expression for both students and faculty.

As summer approached, I sought to maintain engagement by designing a series of thought-provoking questions for the site. However, as anticipated, interest waned over time. With students occupied by summer jobs and vacations, traffic began to decline steadily. Eventually, I felt that I had gleaned sufficient insights into online dynamics and relationships. Consequently, I made the decision not to revive the site for the new school year.

Reflecting on the project years later, I realized the profound insights it provided into human interaction within a confined yet open space. While it was initially a fun endeavor, it soon became a fascinating study of how individuals engage with one another.

As platforms like Secret and YikYak rose to prominence, I couldn’t help but reminisce about my own creation. However, I foresaw the challenges they would face with issues like bullying and the inevitable shift in user interest. Despite the temptation to revisit the concept in later years and perhaps develop a mobile app, I hesitated. The delicate balance between ensuring user safety and avoiding censorship on centralized platforms posed significant challenges.