This morning, I got a Facebook message request notification that read:
are you helping in making america kind again.
My first thought– “But of course, I am.”
I could feel myself getting heated, but a part of me fighting to keep it real…to check myself. The best I could do was turn to analytical mind-brain side, and answer in percentages: 70% Yes, 30% No.
Meaning a bit under three-quarters of the time, I am kind, compassionate and empathetic.
All qualities that I had in mind when I put up this current cover photo on my FB home page and the messenger saw:
As a bit of context and backdrop: Originally, I posted this cover photo as my response to “Make America Great Again.” My FB page is not public, but set to private friends and family. So many of the comments I was reading, that jolted me to put up the banner, came from people directly or indirectly connected to that list…the majority related in that “Six degrees of separation” way.
By this time, a lot more articles and posts were showing up in my feed from people not on my list. Some are people I follow…others are “suggested or sponsored posts” as Facebook rebuilds itself into a media giant and place where we all get on Facebook and never leave” oligopoly.
As we’ll gotten further into this election cycle, it’s goes without saying that things have gotten uglier. I’ve started to comment more. Stepping outside of familiar territory into shall we say the “
I mean other side’s camp.
I suspect my messenger came from one of those article/post threads. The profile name was simply “Facebook user.”A person who didn’t want me messaging them back or to know who they were. But who wanted to call me out.
And once my “keeping it real” side finally was able to get in a word edgewise, the whole of me had to admit that “Anonymous” had a point.
A very good point.
And the right to call me out.
Which I should have been doing myself (which “keeping it real” side just “liked.”).
Much of the time, I take great pains to be objective, grounded and offer up facts to support an opinion or point of view. A few comments when written, came from a place of compassion, which I like to believe came across feeling wise through my choice of wording.
But a few of my comments…especially those written in the last couple of weeks as more and more those media articles and discussion posts make their way into my feed..those comments won’t have anyone mistaking me for a Dalai Lama supplicant.
And while I haven’t succumbed to the level of rancor and vitriol of many of those comments, I have been sarcastic and mean.
In response to one person calling me insane (to my usual reasoned, rational comment), my retort was a photo that’s made the rounds lately of that Donald Trump “Emperor Has No Balls” statue.
I thought it funny. The Guardian, on the other hand, feels that the orange-tinged hair and bloated body artwork falls short both “as art and satire.” They also called the statue ageist and body-shaming.
They have a point. So I won’t re-post that photo here. Though the childish, not contributing in any shape, form or fashion to making american kind again side of me wanted to. Ditto when in another recent comment, I flat-out called a person stupid. And said I wanted to sideline him and people like him. Yeah, I know.
Sounds like a wall doesn’t it.
And yep, that was a wake up call.