There’s something I’ve been noticing at the kiosk lately.
My family runs an ice cream parlour in an area I’ve lived in for years. Recently, it’s been changing. New faces are appearing — people who can comfortably afford what, not long ago, felt like a simple treat. At the same time, the old faces are still around. And so are the younger ones, caught somewhere in between.
Because of rising prices, I had an idea: offer a free ice cream in exchange for a short video for our social media. It felt harmless, even fun — a way to involve people and give something back.
But the people who say yes tend to be the same kind of people.
They’re usually in tracksuits. Different ages, but a similar energy. The kind of young people that are often judged before they even speak. The kind that might be labelled as trouble by the newer residents moving into the area. In real life, though, they’re anything but one-dimensional — they’re funny, loud, full of personality. There’s a confidence to them, a presence.
Then the camera comes out.
And everything changes.
Faces get covered. Hoods go up. They turn away, laugh it off, avoid being seen. The same people who, moments ago, filled the space with energy suddenly shrink back from it.
It’s not shyness. Or at least, not in the simple sense.
It feels more like awareness — of where the video will end up, of who might see it, of the kind of comments it might attract. A kind of learned caution. Maybe even a quiet understanding that being seen wanting something as simple as an ice cream can be judged, mocked, or misunderstood.
There’s something uncomfortable in that.
In a place that’s changing — where some people can just walk in, pay, and enjoy themselves without a second thought — others are put in a position where they have to perform for the same thing. And even then, they don’t fully want to be visible doing it.
It highlights a strange contradiction. The people who seem the most expressive in real life feel the need to hide the most online. Not because they lack confidence, but because they understand the weight of being seen in the wrong way.
What stands out isn’t just the exchange a video for an ice cream but what it reveals. About perception. About class. About how quickly joy can become something to be embarrassed about, depending on who you are and who’s watching.
At the end of the day, it’s simple.
They want an ice cream. Just like anyone else.
But not everyone gets to want things without consequence.
Or even a simpler point serving as an inspiration for the masks use in my project. ‘Kid’ is a representation of young minds.
These youngsters are more comfortable hiding their face than showing it online these days.
One shared hidden identity where in an online era the baddest boi can be trolled by someone more anonymous than them in a comment section.
It seems whoever’s the least vulnerable is the safest when it comes to showing who they truly are.
But is there a point in being at all if we’re all hiding who we truly are from eachother?
Why is the more anonymous entitled to insult the less anonymous when anonymity used to be an insecurity. Now it seems cool because it is safer but when was safe ever fun as a youngster?
