Upon Further Inspection

What Your Slack Avatar Says About You

The meme: I’m wholly unproductive, but I believe my sense of humor is enough to compensate for it.

by Ginny Hogan

Slack was destined to be so many things — a replacement for email, a way to keep us wedded to our work even when we take PTO, a forum for venting about the fact that your company makes you use Outlook instead of Gmail. But one thing no one could have foreseen was the way Slack turned into a means of self-expression. Indeed, people tell their co-workers who they are, or, rather, how they want to be seen via their avatar. It gives off an extraordinary amount of information. Consider what each of the following says about you:

The smiling candid: I may not be perfect at my job, but my Slack avatar will not be the thing that does me in.

The headshot: Please give me a promotion.

The black-and-white portrait: I imagined you’ll look at my avatar under fluorescent lighting, and I wanted to control for any imperfections.

The meme: I’m wholly unproductive, but I believe my sense of humor is enough to compensate for it.

The kids: I have kids, which means you are not my kid, which means please don’t ask me to proofread anything you should do yourself. Also, I’ve gotten laid — at least twice (per kid).

The pet: I don’t have kids. But still, don’t ask me to proofread anything you should do yourself. The only person I like is my dog, who is (1) not a person and (2) has never asked me to proofread anything.

The picture of myself as a kid: I think of myself as the office’s adorable little time capsule, but in reality, I probably shouldn’t giggle at 69 jokes, even though they’re objectively hilarious. I was happier as a kid, anyway. No one asked me to proofread sh*t.

The vacation destination: I wish I were anywhere but here. Anywhere where I don’t have 14 unread Slacks from people asking for “another set of eyes.” I would rather gouge out my own eyes than lend them to you. Why, why, why am I not in Bermuda?

No avatar: No, I’m not a spy — I’m clinging to every shred of work-life balance I can find. Please don’t ask for more photos of me. And, above all, never — never — ask me to proofread anything.