Staff writer Jake Tibbets would like to remind you all that he is a human being, not just a faceless void meant to inflate the number of people “Interested” in your event so you can game the Facebook algorithm.

It happens at the beginning of every semester: I receive an influx, relatively speaking, of friend requests on Facebook, social media’s biggest cesspit, from Columbia students—usually fellow 2021ers—whom I either know only in the vaguest sense or, more often, have never encountered at all.

Every single time, I find myself thinking, “Oh, that’s nice. New semester, new friendships, I guess.” I’ve never been a fan of sending unsolicited friend requests, but I understand that many folks use the platform in order to forge connections with people with whom such connections don’t yet exist. I accept such requests, usually somewhat reluctantly but never unwillingly, and await whatever electronic actions pass as social interaction nowadays—a like on a photo, a reaction on a link, a “Hey!” sent to my inbox, etc.

But such things never come. And as the days roll on without any sign of change, I begin to realize what is coming.

I should expect it—and yet I never do. These friend requests are never accompanied by request on Instagram, an invitation on LinkedIn, or a follow in Twitter. They are rarely if ever preceded by some type of IRL communication. And they arrive every semester at the same time with the same purpose:

These semi-strangers are adding me on Facebook simply because they want to invite me to their club’s meetings, events, and fundraisers.

Now, look: I’m not entirely opposed to using Facebook for this purpose. First of all, it would be incredibly hypocritical for me to be so. Though I never send mass invites to anything, I do frequently share posts about events that my clubs are hosting to my wall and occasionally invite a curated handful of individuals to those events. In addition, sometimes I am intrigued by what I am invited to. Maybe I will show up to that Zerzan lecture hosted by the Anarcho-Primitivist League or the Great Emu War reenactment on Low Steps organized by the Australian History Society.

But more often than not, I am invited to things that have nothing to do with my interests. I’m a sociology major, for Christ’s sake, so why are you inviting me to pre-med events? Do you really think that I, a loudmouthed socialist, have any interest in attending that CUCR comedy act? And, look, as much as I support combating misogyny and lack of opportunity for women in my intended field, do I really come across as a woman involved in law and politics?

Now, I don’t want you to think that I want to avoid being invited to these events. I like seeing what’s going on, and I wholeheartedly embrace the diversity of clubs and organizations on Columbia’s campus. But after you friend me and before you start inviting me to things, reach out and get to know me. Shoot me a “hey!” if you please. I loathe the greeting, but it’s better than nothing. Ask me what my favorite Shrek sequel is. Ask me how to get involved with one of my clubs. Tag me in the comment section of an unexpected meme. Like one of my profile photos from 2011. Angry react to all of my political posts. Hell, yell at me in the comments of one of my own posts about how terrible my 2020 hot takes are. But acknowledge my existence before you shoot me an invite to an event to which I’ll respond “interested” but will never, in fact, attend.

My personality is up here, folks. I promise I’m not entirely uninteresting. Building a shallow relationship before you invite me to something will make the invitation much less unwelcome—and it’ll make me much more likely to actually show up to your SoulCycle pass sale. It’s a win-win situation.

you all should rush bwog though via Pexels