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6 TikTok creators on where they’ll go if the app is banned

Graphic photo illustration of the TikTok logo in a stop sign overlayed on a photo of Congress.
Cath Virginia / The Verge | Photo by Brendan Hoffman, Getty Images

It’s been more than four years since Donald Trump first moved to expel TikTok from the US — and now, just days before a second Trump presidency begins, it just might happen.

President Joe Biden signed legislation last April that officially began the countdown that would force TikTok’s parent company, ByteDance, to divest from the US business. But even afterward, the atmosphere on the video powerhouse was mostly nonchalant, with a handful of stray jokes about “this app disappearing” slotted between the usual fare.

In the last week, though, the vibe has shifted — my favorite creators are posting links to their other social accounts, audiences are making highlight reels of the most viral moments on the app, and they’re saying goodbye to their “Chinese spy” and threatening to hand over their data to the Chinese government. A Chinese-owned app Xiaohongshu, known as RedNote, topped the App Store this week, driven by a wave of “TikTok refugees” trying to recreate the experience of the platform. It’s feeling a bit like a fever dream last day of school.

For many creatives online, this wouldn’t be the first time they’ve had to migrate to new spaces: reach, engagement, and visibility are constantly shifting even on the largest and most stable platforms. But the possibility that a social media site of this size would disappear — or slowly break down until it’s nonfunctional — is a new threat. For small creators especially, TikTok is like playing the lottery: you don’t need thousands of followers for your video to get big, and this unpredictability incentivized the average person to upload content.

It’s still unclear what will happen to TikTok after January 19th. I asked content creators what their game plan is. (Responses have been edited and condensed for clarity.)


Noelle Johansen, @astraeagoods (89K followers)

“At the peak, I was making approximately 70 percent of my sales through TikTok from December 2020 to January 2022. Now, it drives at most, 10 percent of my sales,” says Noelle Johansen, who sells slogan sweatshirts, accessories, stickers, and other products.

“At my peak with TikTok, I was able to reach so many customers with ease. Instagram and Twitter have always been a shot in the dark as to whether the content will be seen, but TikTok was very consistent in showing my followers and potential new customers my videos,” Johansen told The Verge in an email. “I’ve also made great friends from the artist community on TikTok, and it’s difficult to translate that community to other social media. Most apps function a lot differently than TikTok, and many people don’t have the bandwidth to keep up with all of the new socials and building platforms there.”

Going forward, Johansen says they’ll focus on X and Instagram for sales while working to grow an audience on Bluesky and Threads.

Kay Poyer, @ladymisskay_ (704K followers)

“I think the ease of use on TikTok opened an avenue for a lot of would-be creators,” Kay Poyer, a popular creator making humor and commentary content, says. “Right now we’re seeing a cleaving point, where many will choose to stop or be forced to adapt back to older platforms (which tend to be more difficult to build followings on and monetize).”

As for her own plans, Poyer says she’ll stay where the engagement is if TikTok becomes unavailable — smaller platforms like Bluesky or Neptune aren’t yet impactful enough.

“I’m seeing a big spike in subscribers to my Substack, The Quiet Part, as well as followers flooding to my Instagram and Twitter,” Poyer told The Verge. “Personally I have chosen to make my podcast, Meat Bus, the flagship of my content. We’re launching our video episodes sometime next month on YouTube.”

Bethany Brookshire, @beebrookshire (18K followers)

Bethany Brookshire, a science journalist and author, has been sharing videos about human anatomy on TikTok, Bluesky, Instagram, and YouTube. Across platforms, Brookshire has observed differences in audiences — YouTube, for example, “is not a place [to] build an audience,” she says, citing negative comments on her work.

“I find people on TikTok comment and engage a lot more, and most importantly, their comments are often touching or funny,” she says. “When I was doing pelvic anatomy, a lot of people with uteruses wrote in to tell me they felt seen, that they had a specific condition, and they even bonded with each other in the comments.”

Brookshire told The Verge in an email that sharing content anywhere can at times feel fraught. Between Nazi content on Substack, right-wing ass-kissing at Meta, and the national security concerns of TikTok, it doesn’t feel like any platform is perfectly ideal.

“Sometimes I feel like the only ethical way to produce any content is to write it out in artisanal chalk on an organically sourced vegan stone, which I then try to show to a single person with their consent before gently tossing it into the ocean to complete its circle of life,” Brookshire says. “But if I want to inform, and I want to educate, I need to be in the places people go.”

Woodstock Farm Sanctuary, @woodstocksanctuary (117K followers)

The Woodstock Farm Sanctuary in upstate New York uses TikTok to share information with new audiences — the group’s Instagram following is mostly people who are already animal rights activists, vegans, or sanctuary supporters.

“TikTok has allowed us to reach people who don’t even know what animal sanctuaries are,” social media coordinator Riki Higgins told The Verge in an email. “While we still primarily fundraise via Meta platforms, we seem to make the biggest education and advocacy impact when we post on TikTok.”

@woodstocksanctuary

Walt and Waldo escapd separate slaughter operations in different towns over the summer. We were able to rescue both, and they became each other’s comfort as they adjusted in quarantine. Usually, the quarantine period is only a few weeks and then new residents move in with existing groups, but Walt experienced some serious medical emergencies that took him a long time to heal from, and Waldo stayed by his side during those months. Finally, we were able to move this pair into the main sheep barn and watch them integrate into their new family, which was so special to watch. #whywoodstock

♬ Evergreen - music <3

With a small social media and marketing team of two, Woodstock Farm Sanctuary (like other small businesses and organizations) must be strategic in how it uses its efforts. YouTube content can be more labor-intensive, Higgins says, and Instagram Reels is missing key features like 2x video speed and the ability to pause videos.

“TikTok users really, really don’t like Reels. They view it as the platform where jokes, trends, etc., go to die, where outdated content gets recycled, and especially younger users see it as an app only older audiences use,” Higgins says.

The sanctuary says it will meet audiences wherever they migrate in the case that TikTok becomes inaccessible.

Anna Rangos, @honeywhippedfeta (15K followers)

Anna Rangos, who works in social media and makes tech and cultural commentary videos, is no stranger to having to pick up and leave a social media platform for somewhere else. As a retired sex worker, she saw firsthand how fragile a social media following could be.

“You could wake up one day to find your accounts deactivated, and restoring them? Forget it. Good luck getting any kind of service from Meta,” Rangos said in an email. Having an account deleted means lost income and hours of trying to rebuild a following. “Over my time in the industry, I went through three or four Instagram accounts, constantly trying to recapture my following.”

Sex workers and sex education creators regularly deal with their content being removed, censored, or entire accounts deleted. Rangos says that though the community on TikTok is more welcoming, she’s working to stake out her own space through a website and a newsletter. She also plans to stay active on YouTube, Pinterest, and Bluesky.

“I don’t plan on using Meta products much, given [Mark] Zuckerberg’s recent announcements regarding fact-checking,” she wrote in an email.

Amanda Chavira, @lost.birds.beads (10K followers)

“I have found so much joy and community on TikTok mostly through Native TikTok,” says Amanda Chavira, an Indigenous beader who built an audience through tutorials and cultural content. “It’s sad to see TikTok go.”

Chavira says she plans to reupload some of her content to YouTube Shorts to see how her videos perform there but otherwise will be waiting to see if another viable video platform comes along. Chavira won’t be pivoting to Meta: she says she plans to delete her accounts on Threads, Instagram, and Facebook.

“I’d been considering leaving my Meta accounts for a long time,” she said in an email. “Facebook felt like a terrible place through election cycles, and then the pandemic, [and] then every other post I was seeing was a suggested ad or clickbait article. For Instagram, I’ve really been struggling to reach my target audience and didn’t have the time available to post all the time to try to increase engagement.” Her final straw was Meta’s decision to end the fact-checking program and Zuckerberg’s “pandering to the Trump administration,” she says.

My close friend is now my direct manager. We used to party together, but now she's decides if I deserve a raise.

two women sitting at a desk at work taking a selfie
The author (not pictured) is close friends with her direct manager.

Ekaterina Goncharova/Getty Images

  • In my early 20s, I landed a job that became more about partying than working.
  • I became close friends with my coworkers, and we all spent weekends together.
  • Now, I work for one of those friends, and our dynamic is difficult to manage.

When I first graduated from college, I landed a sales job in New York City. The friends I met there in the first few months were some of the closest I had ever had in my life.

Nothing brings you together like late-night work sessions and huge commission checks you spend on anything you want because you're 22 and have never heard of a high-yield savings account.

Making work friends in my early 20s gave me the college experience I never had. We often had weekday sleepovers, where we would roll into the office in the same clothes we wore the day before. The idea of professional boundaries never even crossed my mind.

That's until my close friend at that job recently became my direct manager.

I got a new job at a tech startup and learned about professionalism

When I started working at a tech startup, I spent the next seven years forming close relationships with my co-workers, direct reports, and even my boss.

I was introduced to the delicate balance you can create between a boss and a direct report that allows you to be completely yourself while also maintaining mutual respect and a sense of authority.

We could seamlessly jump between presentation prep and sharing personal anecdotes about our struggles, our goals, and everything in between. The dynamics were playful and professional, whereas my first job was all play and no work.

As it usually goes, after seven years at the tech startup, I decided to part ways with the business. Unemployed, I found myself at a wedding next to an old friend and coworker from my first play-only job. She had recently gotten recruited to take over the office and offered me the opportunity to come on board as a contractor for a few months to earn some extra cash while I was in between jobs.

A few months turned into a full-time position

After everything I learned about this delicate balance of coworker and friend, nothing could have prepared me for that reporting line shift. The last time I worked with my now boss, we were 23 years old, night swimming on Fire Island at three in the morning on a Thursday. Now, I'm filling out my end-of-year review, reflecting on how I did so that my friend can decide whether or not to give me a raise.

To put it simply, it felt pretty weird.

I have always thought of her as a wild friend first and a coworker second, but since rejoining the company, we have both had to flip that prioritization. It helps that we're almost 10 years older, but it's still been a hard transition.

We have had to put our friendship on the back burner and be more professional with one another. We use Teams to catch up instead of texting. We share weekend plans during our 1:1 instead of naturally calling each other to check-in. I find myself more hesitant to say things that I wouldn't have given a second thought to before, and I can feel her hesitation as well.

In some ways, it feels like I am mourning the loss of our pure friendship, which is now muddled by salary discussions and time off requests.

As hard as it is, there are also a lot of benefits to reporting to a friend

Maybe it's a loss of a pure friendship, but it also feels like a gain of something pretty incredible.

I have always felt that the most important thing about a work environment is who you work with. I feel safer and more comfortable knowing that I have a friend in my corner, and I think she feels the same way, too.

I never would have even known about this job opportunity without my friend encouraging me to take the role. Even more importantly, she knows me so well that she has faith in my abilities and trusts me completely. I have been given more responsibility and autonomy in a few months than most people get after years because it takes time to build that level of trust with a new manager.

Working for a friend works for me — for now

Right now, in my career, I crave autonomy and trust. I believe I have earned that faster by working for a friend.

There may come a time when I'm seeking more mentorship or diverse experience from my manager. When that time comes, I will need to shift away from reporting to a friend and start fresh.

When I consider the times I have worked with friends vs. when I have not, working with them comes out on top every time. But working for them might be something I only do a few times in my career.

Read the original article on Business Insider

I taught preschool for 2 years and absolutely loved it. But I couldn't support myself financially.

A preschool teacher sits on the floor of her classroom with a small group of students as she reads them a book. The children are each dressed casually and are focused on the story.
The author (not pictured) left her preschool teaching career for an office job that paid better.

FatCamera/Getty Images

  • I taught preschool for two years and loved it.
  • But at the same time, I couldn't support myself financially.
  • I applied for an office job and was reminded of how to interact with other adults.

I taught preschool for two years. Frankly, it was delightful. It was fulfilling, meaningful work that left me feeling full-hearted at the end of every day.

The problem was I couldn't support myself and my son on that salary as a newly single mom. Instead, I dove into the corporate world head-first, but it wasn't without sacrifices.

The job search process was time-consuming

First came the job application process. I spent hours each day sending résumés to whoever might take me, desperate to step into the breadwinner role now that I was on my own.

After three months of crafting bespoke cover letters for every employer I sent an application to, I finally found it: an entry-level marketing role at an online health publisher that had my name all over it.

That's when the culture shock really set in.

As a preschool teacher and the mother of a toddler, I had hardly touched my laptop for the last two years. My son and I had a set routine of attending school together every day: his place of learning and my place of work.

I was home in time to make dinner every night, and our weekends were filled with parks and playgrounds. We were a part of a small, tight-knit community of teachers, administrators, and a few involved parents. It was cozy, comfy, and sweet as can be.

I wondered whether it was worth it

Now, I was suddenly thrust into the fast-paced, competitive environment of San Francisco's startup world — and my head was spinning.

My son was the first kid at day care and the last to come home owing to my new 3-hour roundtrip commute. Before, he got to attend the school I taught at for free. Now, half of my paycheck went to childcare.

I started to question whether it had all been worth it, whether I had given up something precious and rare just to make money — like so many others — and still barely make ends meet. But I told myself to stick it out, trusting that even if I couldn't see where my new career would take us, we'd land where we needed to be.

Once I started adjusting to my new role, there were plenty of perks to enjoy.

There were perks

For the first time in my life, I had quality benefits (full medical, vision, dental, and a 401k), and it was refreshing to be in an office with people my age. It was the first time I had meaningfully interacted with adults outside a kid-focused setting in years. I had sort of forgotten what grown-up me was like. Frankly, I probably came on really strong.

I felt like a fish out of water as a 20-something kid-at-heart hippie in a corporate setting wearing blazers and flats for the first time in my life, but it was exhilarating to try on a new and dynamic persona and see how it all played out.

At the same time, I genuinely missed my role as a teacher and all that after-school time with my son.

Sure, we had cold brew on tap and office-sponsored happy hours every Thursday. I got to lead the Celebrations Committee and organize extravagant parties for special events and birthdays on the company dime.

Still, that didn't compare to watching a whole community of children growing from babies into school-ready kids over the course of a year. It didn't compare to the showers of heartfelt gratitude we teachers received from parents for caring for their children when they were away.

And it certainly didn't compare to storytime snuggles, end-of-day hugs, and the love and trust that we earned from our students for being there for them day after day.

All that said, I wouldn't change a thing. My career had a bumpy, awkward start, but now I get to work from home, homeschool my son, cook dinner every night, and spend zero time commuting. I can contribute to my community, grow a garden, and walk my dog.

I'm even nursing a little fantasy about one day returning to preschool teaching just for the joy of it — and supporting myself with a freelance career. We'll see what unfolds, but I don't regret rolling the dice, even though I still miss all the kids.

Read the original article on Business Insider

Apple to stream FireAid Benefit Concert in support of LA wildfire relief

Later this month, a FireAid Benefit Concert is being held in support of the victims of the Los Angeles wildfires. Headlined by the likes of Billie Eilish, Lady Gaga, Dave Matthews, and Katy Perry, the concert aims to raise donations for wildfire relief efforts.

Bloomberg now reports that the FireAid Benefit Concert will be streamed on all major streaming services, including Apple TV+.

more…

Apple denies App Store profit margin is 75% – claims to have no clue

Apple’s incoming CFO didn’t get much time to settle in before he found himself in court defending the company against a class action lawsuit. Kevan Parekh yesterday claimed that the company that it has no clue about its App Store profit margin.

This is a stance the company has taken before. Indeed, Apple Fellow Phil Schiller even went as far as to claim he didn’t even know whether the App Store made a profit at all …

more…

Security Bite: Put these books and security resources on your 2025 reading list

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Between the rapid news cycle around the TikTok ban, the vulnerability found in the iPhone’s USB-C port controller, and the overruling of net neutrality protections (again), it’s felt like a rollercoaster of a month so far. But this week, I want to step back and share what’s on my growing reading list for this year, as well as some other resources that I recommend for those just starting their Apple security journey in 2025.

Security Bite is a weekly security-focused column on 9to5Mac. Each week, I share insights on data privacy, discuss the latest vulnerabilities, and shed light on emerging threats within Apple’s vast ecosystem of over 2 billion active devices.

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