There is a lot of chatter amongst today's writers, PR gurus, and marketing experts about how the Web - particularly social media - is changing the way we communicate. And from a writer's standpoint, I can tell you that the "school of thought" on writing that I graduated from 15 years ago is no longer in session. Everything has changed.
 
I could write several pages on how the technicalities of writing are being redefined, or largely ignored, by our most prolific and talented communicators today --- for better or for worse, depending upon your view. But I won't.

What's most interesting to me is how the content has changed. Young people today have a very different definition of "private" than their parents and grandparents. Facebook and Twitter aside, those of us raised in the '60s and beyond have been encouraged to "share" and "open up" since grammar school. 

And nowadays, with the social media taking hold, "sharing" has been taken to an entirely new level. We talk about our struggles, our fears, our loves, and our hopes with an audience of online friends, family, and yes - even strangers. 

It's not just about where we're going on vacation, it's about what we're feeling and thinking. It's the photo of the empty apartment after a break-up and a simple post, "Another chapter closes …." that an acquaintance of mine recently posted on Facebook.

So how does this apply to personal history? Today's youth appears at ease revealing the more intimate details of their lives on a public stage. With the birth of online communications, we're sharing more things with more people than ever before.

A lot has changed since 1910. For those born in the earlier part of the last century, the lines between material fit for "polite dinner-table conversation" versus "a diary entry" are a little more clearly defined. There were certain things that you just didn't talk about …. especially in mixed company.

So the elders in your life may not think to initiate conversation about certain sentimental subjects, but it doesn't mean that they aren't willing to share. 

The personal-history interview brings these topics to the forefront. It provides a comfortable stage for both asking and answering these seemingly awkward questions that we avoid -- even though we'd love to hear the answers. I've found that the elusive "privacy line" that we all dance around with the elders in our lives seems to soften dramatically when there is a genuine interest in what lies on the other side. The life-story interview seems to demonstrate just that.