Inter-Political Friendship
In 2006, I was expecting my third baby and was placed on bedrest. This meant that I had to stay in a prone position most of the day and was only allowed to be upright to go to the restroom or take a quick shower. I spent hours reading books to my other children, watching them play, trying to fold laundry, and being bored. Really, really bored. In my boredom, I found myself surfing the internet to learn more about Angelina's new baby with Brad Pitt, wondering how Jennifer Aniston could be in a relationship with Vince Vaughn, and trying to avoid any stories about Paris Hilton.
On one of my semi-brainless descents into the vortex of the internet, I found an online forum hosted by an organization that offered programming to Christian mothers of preschoolers. I took a look at some of the comments and started to participate in the threads. If I couldn't have actual human interaction, why not try to have some interaction online? As I read thread after thread, I found myself getting annoyed and fired up about some of the more conservative topics. I would never have admitted it at the time, but I went on that board with the intent to be a bit of a troll. I didn't care how harsh my words were because these weren't "real" people. They were fake internet people so I could say or do whatever I wanted with no consequences.
Of course, that's not how it works. After a few months of being provocative, I found myself getting to know these women and actually caring about them. Amidst all of the debates about politics, abortion, attachment parenting, and corporal punishment were real live human stories of heartbreak, pain, and triumph. I found myself logging in when my kids were napping and when I was watching tv. Their stories and personalities became familiar and I thought to wish them a happy birthday or to check on someone who had been sick. These women, who I mostly knew by anonymous screen names, became my friends.
In the years that followed, there were ups and downs to that online community. There were heated battles. Many of us were in our late 20's and early 30's and were still fairly idealistic and rigid in our convictions. We were sure there was a "right" way and a "wrong" way to do things. Most of us were married and had young children and life hadn't really happened yet.
And then....life did happen.
We all read the post of one of our friends who was diagnosed with cancer and had one beloved son. We followed her treatments and progress and then we lost her. Our online friend died. It's so weird to mourn the loss of someone you didn't know in person, but we did know her. We knew that she was scared about what would happen to her husband and son if she were to die. We knew that she fought until the bitter end. We knew her even if we hadn't ever shared coffee with her or held her hand.
I'll never forget when one of us posted a worried post about her son's sudden decline in health. I was sure it was nothing, only it wasn't nothing. Her sweet little boy was diagnosed with cancer. We "listened" to each post outlining his treatment plan and his progress and how he was tolerating the chemo. We read this sweet mama's pleas for prayers and all held our breath with each "big" doctor visit. And then, when that sweet boy died, we grieved right along with her. I will never forget her Superbub. Never, ever, ever...even though I never met him or this amazing woman who I still call a friend.
We've "listened" as marriages faltered and fell apart or faltered and were healed. We walked beside each other as homes were foreclosed or sold, as husbands lost or got new jobs, and as children went through various developmental stages. There were more cancer diagnoses and very sick children and we were with each other through all of that. We celebrated when a child with a chronic illness was well enough to go to school with his peers and checked in on our friend who had suffered a miscarriage. We were family. We were a community. We had each other's backs.
Even after the parent organization shut down the forum, we stayed connected through a private facebook group. Our careful attention to privacy at the beginning of our online friendships slowly gave way to a community where screen names were no longer necessary. We could be our authentic, true selves because we "knew" each other. We shared our addresses for secret santa exchanges and to send books we wanted to share. We happily shared pictures of our families and compared weekly menus to get out of supper ruts. Many of these women became some of my very best friends.
When the very worst thing happened to me, these were women I could share the full, unadulterated story with before even some friends I knew in real life. They heard me and accepted me. They offered support. Some of them even sent me care packages. To this day, they check in and tell me over and over that I matter and that they care about me. They were among the most supportive folks in my life over the last two years.
Of course, all has not been rosy. In some of the more heated discussions, folks have left. Some of them have stayed away. Some have licked their wounds and returned. All of us have said things we regretted, I suspect. I know I have. Feelings have been hurt and apologies have sometimes been offered. But, as we've aged, things have mellowed. We are no longer so sure that we know the "truth." We are more tolerant of that which we don't understand or fully know. We accept the grey in each other's lives and the big fights have pretty much disappeared.
Yesterday, when some of us marched with millions of women world-wide to champion the rights of women and girls to live lives that are safe, celebrated, and full of opportunity, we talked about it. The words "snowflake" and "trumpster" were never used. No one told anyone to go find their diaper pin. No one called the other stupid or a bigot. To be clear, we did not all agree. Some of my friends in this group voted for Donald Trump. Many of us did not. Some of the women are vehemently pro-life, others are more moderate in their views about abortion, and some of us are strong supporters of reproductive freedom. We represent dozens of Christian denominations and even have a couple atheists in the group. We are from all parts of the globe and have all had varying degrees of education. In short, we are not a homogenous group of people who think and feel the same way about all issues. In fact, I'd say that no matter the topic, a diverse set of opinions would be presented.
Even with this diversity of thought and belief, we could discuss and share. We wrestled with the messages of the Women's March and the challenges that posed for some of our members. We talked, debated, and asserted our opinions and the dialogue is continuing as I type, probably. Our conversation, however, is civil and kind. We are not aiming to take the other person down or to make them feel less than. When we feel lines have been crossed, we talk about it...most of the time ;) We are human, after all, and it won't always be perfect. Even with those stumbles, I feel proud of of our ability to have dialogue about these tough issues and mostly do so civilly and respectfully.
It's remarkable, really, to think that this hodge podge group of women can create this kind of diverse community when everywhere else on the internet people seem intent on tearing those different from themselves down. I know that in the name of self care, I shouldn't read online comments. But... I do read them and almost every time I am left feeling sick to my stomach. It makes me wonder if these are things people in my real life think and feel? Do my friends who disagree with me politically really think that I am a weak, emotional snowflake of a human? Do they really think that I want babies to die or that I don't know how to engage in critical thinking? Do they really think that I hate them or that I think they are stupid? Is this what we've become? Caricatures of human beings who have to fit into narrow boxes or categories?
That is not who I am and that is not how I see any of my friends...those I've met in person and those I've only come to know through a computer screen. I admit that it is hard for me to understand how anyone can champion the rhetoric put forth by our president. I really, honestly do.not.get.it. I hear their hope and triumph and I wish I could feel that optimistic about this administration's policy, but I don't. I hate the things our president has said. I hate the decisions he's already made. I hate many of the things he has done in his life. I hate the climate I believe he's created and endorsed. But...I don't hate him. I certainly don't hate my friends who supported him. I can't. You are people. Some of you have been great people to me. I see you as those kind, compassionate, funny, and life-affirming people that I have come to know and respect. I want to understand where you are coming from, even if it is really hard. You deserve that. We deserve that.
I will not stop speaking out about what I see as injustice. I will continue to participate in the "resistance" because I feel it is important and that I am ethically bound to do so. I will oppose any policy or decision that I feel hurts my family, my daughters, or any person. I will not apologize for being outspoken or politically engaged. Some people may choose to change or end our relationship because of this. Some already have, in fact. That makes me sad, but I can't let it silence me.
My hope, however, is that my friends who may disagree with me politically will continue to see me as the human I am or try to be every day. I hope that even if they don't agree with my politics, they can see me as the kind, empathic, loving, caring human I try to be everyday. I hope they will try to understand where I am coming from as I also wrestle with my own biases and convictions to understand other points of view. I hope we can still be friends.
I will do my best to bring my very best self to all of my friendships...online and in "real life."If I stumble.... No.... WHEN I stumble, I hope we can work through it together. I can think of no better way to resist our current course that seems bound and determined to divide us than to work hard to maintain the friendships I have with those who think, feel, believe, and vote differently than I do.
We can do it. Yes, we can ;)
On one of my semi-brainless descents into the vortex of the internet, I found an online forum hosted by an organization that offered programming to Christian mothers of preschoolers. I took a look at some of the comments and started to participate in the threads. If I couldn't have actual human interaction, why not try to have some interaction online? As I read thread after thread, I found myself getting annoyed and fired up about some of the more conservative topics. I would never have admitted it at the time, but I went on that board with the intent to be a bit of a troll. I didn't care how harsh my words were because these weren't "real" people. They were fake internet people so I could say or do whatever I wanted with no consequences.
Of course, that's not how it works. After a few months of being provocative, I found myself getting to know these women and actually caring about them. Amidst all of the debates about politics, abortion, attachment parenting, and corporal punishment were real live human stories of heartbreak, pain, and triumph. I found myself logging in when my kids were napping and when I was watching tv. Their stories and personalities became familiar and I thought to wish them a happy birthday or to check on someone who had been sick. These women, who I mostly knew by anonymous screen names, became my friends.
In the years that followed, there were ups and downs to that online community. There were heated battles. Many of us were in our late 20's and early 30's and were still fairly idealistic and rigid in our convictions. We were sure there was a "right" way and a "wrong" way to do things. Most of us were married and had young children and life hadn't really happened yet.
And then....life did happen.
We all read the post of one of our friends who was diagnosed with cancer and had one beloved son. We followed her treatments and progress and then we lost her. Our online friend died. It's so weird to mourn the loss of someone you didn't know in person, but we did know her. We knew that she was scared about what would happen to her husband and son if she were to die. We knew that she fought until the bitter end. We knew her even if we hadn't ever shared coffee with her or held her hand.
I'll never forget when one of us posted a worried post about her son's sudden decline in health. I was sure it was nothing, only it wasn't nothing. Her sweet little boy was diagnosed with cancer. We "listened" to each post outlining his treatment plan and his progress and how he was tolerating the chemo. We read this sweet mama's pleas for prayers and all held our breath with each "big" doctor visit. And then, when that sweet boy died, we grieved right along with her. I will never forget her Superbub. Never, ever, ever...even though I never met him or this amazing woman who I still call a friend.
We've "listened" as marriages faltered and fell apart or faltered and were healed. We walked beside each other as homes were foreclosed or sold, as husbands lost or got new jobs, and as children went through various developmental stages. There were more cancer diagnoses and very sick children and we were with each other through all of that. We celebrated when a child with a chronic illness was well enough to go to school with his peers and checked in on our friend who had suffered a miscarriage. We were family. We were a community. We had each other's backs.
Even after the parent organization shut down the forum, we stayed connected through a private facebook group. Our careful attention to privacy at the beginning of our online friendships slowly gave way to a community where screen names were no longer necessary. We could be our authentic, true selves because we "knew" each other. We shared our addresses for secret santa exchanges and to send books we wanted to share. We happily shared pictures of our families and compared weekly menus to get out of supper ruts. Many of these women became some of my very best friends.
When the very worst thing happened to me, these were women I could share the full, unadulterated story with before even some friends I knew in real life. They heard me and accepted me. They offered support. Some of them even sent me care packages. To this day, they check in and tell me over and over that I matter and that they care about me. They were among the most supportive folks in my life over the last two years.
Of course, all has not been rosy. In some of the more heated discussions, folks have left. Some of them have stayed away. Some have licked their wounds and returned. All of us have said things we regretted, I suspect. I know I have. Feelings have been hurt and apologies have sometimes been offered. But, as we've aged, things have mellowed. We are no longer so sure that we know the "truth." We are more tolerant of that which we don't understand or fully know. We accept the grey in each other's lives and the big fights have pretty much disappeared.
Yesterday, when some of us marched with millions of women world-wide to champion the rights of women and girls to live lives that are safe, celebrated, and full of opportunity, we talked about it. The words "snowflake" and "trumpster" were never used. No one told anyone to go find their diaper pin. No one called the other stupid or a bigot. To be clear, we did not all agree. Some of my friends in this group voted for Donald Trump. Many of us did not. Some of the women are vehemently pro-life, others are more moderate in their views about abortion, and some of us are strong supporters of reproductive freedom. We represent dozens of Christian denominations and even have a couple atheists in the group. We are from all parts of the globe and have all had varying degrees of education. In short, we are not a homogenous group of people who think and feel the same way about all issues. In fact, I'd say that no matter the topic, a diverse set of opinions would be presented.
Even with this diversity of thought and belief, we could discuss and share. We wrestled with the messages of the Women's March and the challenges that posed for some of our members. We talked, debated, and asserted our opinions and the dialogue is continuing as I type, probably. Our conversation, however, is civil and kind. We are not aiming to take the other person down or to make them feel less than. When we feel lines have been crossed, we talk about it...most of the time ;) We are human, after all, and it won't always be perfect. Even with those stumbles, I feel proud of of our ability to have dialogue about these tough issues and mostly do so civilly and respectfully.
It's remarkable, really, to think that this hodge podge group of women can create this kind of diverse community when everywhere else on the internet people seem intent on tearing those different from themselves down. I know that in the name of self care, I shouldn't read online comments. But... I do read them and almost every time I am left feeling sick to my stomach. It makes me wonder if these are things people in my real life think and feel? Do my friends who disagree with me politically really think that I am a weak, emotional snowflake of a human? Do they really think that I want babies to die or that I don't know how to engage in critical thinking? Do they really think that I hate them or that I think they are stupid? Is this what we've become? Caricatures of human beings who have to fit into narrow boxes or categories?
That is not who I am and that is not how I see any of my friends...those I've met in person and those I've only come to know through a computer screen. I admit that it is hard for me to understand how anyone can champion the rhetoric put forth by our president. I really, honestly do.not.get.it. I hear their hope and triumph and I wish I could feel that optimistic about this administration's policy, but I don't. I hate the things our president has said. I hate the decisions he's already made. I hate many of the things he has done in his life. I hate the climate I believe he's created and endorsed. But...I don't hate him. I certainly don't hate my friends who supported him. I can't. You are people. Some of you have been great people to me. I see you as those kind, compassionate, funny, and life-affirming people that I have come to know and respect. I want to understand where you are coming from, even if it is really hard. You deserve that. We deserve that.
I will not stop speaking out about what I see as injustice. I will continue to participate in the "resistance" because I feel it is important and that I am ethically bound to do so. I will oppose any policy or decision that I feel hurts my family, my daughters, or any person. I will not apologize for being outspoken or politically engaged. Some people may choose to change or end our relationship because of this. Some already have, in fact. That makes me sad, but I can't let it silence me.
My hope, however, is that my friends who may disagree with me politically will continue to see me as the human I am or try to be every day. I hope that even if they don't agree with my politics, they can see me as the kind, empathic, loving, caring human I try to be everyday. I hope they will try to understand where I am coming from as I also wrestle with my own biases and convictions to understand other points of view. I hope we can still be friends.
I will do my best to bring my very best self to all of my friendships...online and in "real life."
We can do it. Yes, we can ;)
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