You Are What You Read: A Letter to My Facebook “Friends”

Last week I saw some ugly things. We all did. It was, by all accounts, a hard week. But the hardest thing of all was watching people — in my own timeline, people who I’ve invited into my life — immediately judge others in a way that can only be described as bigotry.

big·ot·ry — ˈbiɡətrē/ — noun — intolerance toward those who hold different opinions from oneself.

A few weeks ago I realized that I was not the person I want to be. I did something I’m ashamed of, and which has weighed on me since. So I made it a point to begin working on myself. Yesterday I realized that a big cause of it was the people I’ve allowed into my life, who I allowed to have access to my brain, little by little, in the form of criticism, condemnation, and complaints.

In other words, Facebook posts.

Last week, it was easy to see who: some spouted self-righteous bigotry all over their walls, while others spouted a brand of hateful indifference I can only describe as aggravated, vitriolic apathy, the kind of crap that was “cool” in high school but simply juvenile and immature anywhere else.

And so I cut them off.

My brain is something I need to protect. And there is a vast difference in the way that someone’s spoken word affects you, versus what you read in our own voice. When someone else speaks, your mind puts up barriers, because it’s saying, “hey, this is foreign. Let me examine it first.” But when you read it, you read it in your own voice — or one of your own choosing — which automatically gets past that gate and is immediately made a part of you.

Remember: you are the culmination of the 5 people you most give access to your mind. Is “Facebook” one of these people? And if so, what’s it saying?

It’s easy to say that Facebook is making me a lesser person, though, and to quit because of that. I’ve seen people do it, and respect them for it. It’s harder to admit that the reason is not because I spend time on it, but because of all the garbage on my newsfeed. And most of that blame for that lies at the feet of one person: me.

Throughout my life, I’ve sought to make myself a well informed person: knowledgeable about various topics, and humble enough to admit when I’m wrong, since that’s the only way to learn. I’ve sought multiple points of view and angles, believing that if I only understood enough, somehow I could make the world a better place, be it by fostering understanding, or by merely expanding my viewpoint further.

And so, yes, I’ve sought to teach others of what I’ve learned: I’m a natural teacher; it’s something I do about as naturally as speaking or breathing, and it’s how I learn best. (Well, that, and by arguing.)

But I learned a are lesson: some people aren’t interested in learning, because they’re already right. They’re convinced of this, overwhelming evidence to the contrary be damned.

It was then that I decided that this deluge of information serves no good purpose anymore.

• It helps no one — not myself nor those around me — to spoon feed myself all all the vitriol and blame games that inundate our infotainment news cycle.
• It helps no one to argue about point A or point B, because in Internet arguments, people aren’t looking to learn, they’re looking to be right.
• It does no one any good to spend time — even if it’s just a few seconds reading their posts — with people who never got past the self-loathing persecution complex they hide under a fascade of “directness”.
• And it is purely destructive to listen to hypocrites who wrap themselves in the flags of their favorite causes while casting ignorant judgment on anyone who disagrees with them.

Because when I read their words, *I* say those words. I become that bigot. I become that monster.

You are what you read.

Someone asked me yesterday whether this means that I was just running away, becoming blissfully ignorant. I responded that it wasn’t. It just meant that I wouldn’t dwell on bad news. If there’s a shooting, I don’t need to read about it from 20 angles to be saddened by it. If there’s a video of someone being murdered unjustly, I don’t need to watch it to be angered by it. I see the headline, maybe see the story, and move on. If I can do something about it, I do. If I can’t, then what’s the purpose of dwelling on it? If I dwell on it because I have to in order to process it, I will. But I generally don’t. None of us do. After all, now more than ever, in an age where we get everyone’s opinions all the time, what we end up doing is just becoming part of this hyper-reactive conversation that demands you immediately take a side.

Take a side, or you don’t care.

Take a side, or you’re not engaged.

Take a side, or you’re wrong.

Take a side…and you’re wrong anyway, no matter what.

Anyway, for now, I’m done. No, I’m not quitting Facebook. If I wanted to do that, I’d just quit. There isn’t any purpose in telling anyone. I’m just saying this because I feel the need to say it. If you think you fit one of the descriptions above, then maybe you do. If you are honestly curious, ask. I have a suspicion that the people who need not ask will, and those who should ask won’t.

And that’s OK. Be yourself. But understand that I’m under no obligation to be a part of that.