Social media. It is a way of life for most of us these days. Who would have ever conceived of common usage of the word “tweet?” Now we use it as a verb and we’re not even chirping like little birds! Social media is a big stinking deal. Even my mom’s on Facebook, people. This is a woman who can barely cut and paste or attach a file to an email. This is the time when we as the everyday citizens of the world have an unparalleled opportunity to engage with the media and reframe, problematize, criticize, and newly shape what is most important in our social consciousness, what we value. It’s so awesome it’s overwhelming.

There is danger lurking in everything though. The first danger is banality. If you’re a member of any social networking site, you have felt and noticed many things that include the awesomeness and overwhelming nature of it, but you have also seen how incredibly self-centered it can be. I admit I have likely put up boring or self-centered status updates, but I try to keep them to a minimum, which may be why people actually respond when I update my goings-on. That’s the second danger, the self-involved monster that social media can create. We can start to feel that we are far more important than anyone ever should feel. We have our own page, our own views to disseminate loudly and vehemently, all the rest be damned. Do something good with your social media access.

And reality television. Recall what you watched in a first airing or re-run of “Father Knows Best” or “The Patty Duke Show.” Not terribly realistic. I have a rather perceptive golden retriever, but she’s no Lassie. But—I am a relic of the first reality TV experiment: “The Real World.” I gleaned some of my most important life lessons from this groundbreaking MTV old-timer by today’s standards. Let’s see, there were heated conversations about race relations between Season 1′s Kevin and Julie; learning about safe sex, abortion, and how far is too far from Season 2′s Tami; AIDS and the art of public speaking from Season 3′s late Pedro Zamora; not to mention all of the gay relationships I first saw on TV from “The Real World.” Those were the 1990s when I was in my early to mid teens, ripe for learning about a world outside of my own small corner of it. “The Real World” has become less real and more disturbing over the years, but it certainly gave my generation a lot of food for thought in its nascent state.

Reality television these days is everywhere. As a self-proclaimed TV lover, it is sometimes impossible to resist its lure, but I find it increasingly simple. I give in to “American Idol” and then call it a year when it comes to reality programming. Why is this so simple for me and probably for countless others? Because this reality TV does not represent my reality, our reality. It’s pretty far from my norm in fact.

And now, we learn about Abby Sunderland, the 16-year-old California girl who attempted to set a world record for solo sailing around the world and was rescued from her yacht in the Indian Ocean this past Saturday. Before she even set sail Magnetic Entertainment approached her family about doing a reality television program about the family and Abby and her brother Zac’s sailing trips. It was never picked up. Seriously, who wants to see another reality show about a big family and their so-called adventures? My friend Alida Brill, author, social critic, long-standing advocate for women, girls, and people with chronic illnesses, and the inspiration for this post, has “seen heroic young girls all over the country, girls who do not get to choose to sail around the world, girls with chronic illnesses, and girls who work for social change. What about those girls? When do we hear about them?” Indeed.

I want to see a reality show (or shows!) about real people and real issues. Like 12-year-old Zach Bonner, founder of the Little Red Wagon Foundation. This little guy is doing big things for youth in distress: homeless youth, kids in domestic violence, natural disasters, and more. His website says a movie is being filmed about Little Red Wagon in Charleston, South Carolina. Perfect example of something I actually want to see!

I want to see a reality show about 3E Love. This is a group of awesome young folks in the Chicago area who, from the idea of the Stevie Hopkins’ late sister Annie, have taken the antiquated “handicapped” symbol we see and made the wheel of the wheelchair into a heart and created an awesome company out of promoting disability awareness through their simple but powerful message: “Embrace Diversity. Educate Your Community. Empower Each Other. Love Life.” I want to watch Stevie and his 3E Love team members travel the country talking to people about disability awareness and selling their kickin’ wheelchair heart logo wares.

And I really want to see Zach Anner’s show that he is vying for in Oprah Winfrey’s contest. Have you read about this dude? He rocks! He has cerebral palsy, what he calls “the sexiest of all the palsies,” and is “in it to win it” as my dog Randy Jackson on “American Idol” would say. John Mayer got the word out, along with a whole host of other folks on the web, and has offered to do the theme song for Anner’s proposed show on adventures for people who never thought they could travel, to go to some of the most inaccessible places in the world. He’s flippin’ hilarious too and totally debunks tons of myths about disabled folks! Case in point: he figures he can get a girlfriend just by virtue of now being associated with John Mayer! He just might win, people! VOTE, VOTE, VOTE for him.

I can’t wait to buy Crystal Bowersox’s, runner-up of this year’s “American Idol,” album. This woman is super talented and had me singing every week! She has Type I diabetes and wants to use her fame to advocate for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund.

These are the people I want to “like” on Facebook and “follow” on Twitter. These are the folks who get my juices flowing and my blood pumping. These are young people doing big, heroic things. These are the individuals who should be the celebrities of today, of the new age of socially engaged media.