I was once told that the public “owns us”, the statement was referring to celebrities being public property. Some recognize me. Other don’t. I am content with both. But “own us”…REALLY?
It’s flattering when someone runs up to you to ask for a picture. I always say yes. It becomes scary though when;
I walk into a restaurant for a meeting and the waitress shows me selfies of my daughter and her taken a few weeks ago. When handing her my baby at the time, she managed to, in a matter of seconds ,take 5 selfies, that I didn’t know about. She is showing this to her family, friends, and now…Me. I’m horrified. But I have to keep cool. Be polite. She knows me from TV. I might be misunderstood.
I’m putting my baby to sleep. The doorbell rings. As I open the door, in front of me stands Lynn. “You are Elana Afrika…..I heard you live in the area. Can I see the baby? Can I sell you a house? OH..You are putting the baby to sleep. And who trimmed your tree?” She asks a string of questions without taking a breath. I’m horrified. But I have to keep cool. Be polite. She knows me from TV. I might be misunderstood. She knows where I live.
I do a photo-shoot for a friend’s portfolio. I see an opportunity for my baby to have a quick snap with me. A week later our picture is on her business profile. How do I tell her. No. Take baby off. I did business with you. Not baby. I’m horrified. But I have to keep cool. Be polite. She knows me from TV. I might be misunderstood. She has my baby’s picture on her business site.
3 men deliver a beautiful chair for my home. I ordered and paid for it online. I am home with 3 other people. So, I’m safe right. No I’m not. I walk back to the front door with the signed delivery note. The men are busy taking selfies of themselves and my family’s pictures in the foyer of our house. After writing their employer I was guaranteed the pictures would be deleted off their phones. I got a written apology. I’m horrified. But I have to keep cool. Be polite. They know me from TV. I might be misunderstood.
Saturday I was at the tailors. His accent is strong. It silences me. The room is small, 2 other men are behind sewing machines. Their voices buzz in unison as they speak through their teeth. My stylist sent me. Alone. My baby is in full view of me in her stroller. While I am undressing in the tiny fitting room, and slipping on a sequins dress, I see the silhouette of someone’s hand through the almost see through curtain. I see him zoom in on my baby’s face… The tailor is busy taking pictures of my baby. I grab his phone. I get dressed. Delete my baby’s pictures and rush home out of breath. I’m horrified. But I have to keep cool. Be polite. They know me from TV. I might be misunderstood.
I’m thinking of the 100s of selfies I have on my phone. I never asked if I could post them on social media. Politicians, radio personalities, celebrities. I have a selfie of them on my phone….