Recently, someone with whom I had several friends in common posted something controversial on Facebook. Over the next two days, I watched numerous people remove this person from their social circle. His comments (which addressed the Kyle Rittenhouse situation) were insensitive, insulting, and exposed the inner racism this person perpetuated and supported. What was interesting was the number of people who commented that they “thought he was a nice guy” or “this seems so unlike him,” when they actually hadn’t spoken to this person in a very long time. It got me thinking about how much of an investment we put into naming and calling people “friends.”
As we go through life, we find ourselves in different social circles we refer to as “friends.” Most of them are more like friendly acquaintances – coworkers, classmates, other band moms, etc. Moving from one stage to the other –we may retain a select one or two of these people in our personal lives, sharing with them on a more significant level, but most will become memories. Have you ever moved? We all talk about staying connected with the people in our classes, our offices, and our neighborhoods. But with little surprise, the majority of those we leave behind will stay there – relegated to the instances where we chance upon them – weddings, funerals, parties, conferences – with promises of “we have to get together.”
In these social circles, you rarely discussed anything significantly controversial. You stayed away from religion, heavy metal music, and politics. You rarely knew what side of an issue your “friends” were on unless you were serving on a committee that focused on a particular issue .
In the pre-internet world, if you joined a committee, did a show, took a job, etc., you got a list of contacts – usually on a piece of paper. You used that list for the time you were on that committee, in that show, or had that job/assignment. When it was over, you all went your separate ways until you came together again for the next event. You didn’t know what they did, they didn’t know what you did, and everyone was happy.
Enter the internet – and social media – and “groups.” Initially, we connected with everyone we knew, regardless of our actual relationship with them. It was fun to see other people’s pictures, learn of their life events, and otherwise connect with people we would otherwise never see again.
People soon realized that it was easier to communicate on a large scale by putting everyone in a group – sharing pictures, announcing meetings, etc. Soon, other members of these groups would request to be your “friend” on social media. To be fair, you knew and liked most of these people. But you liked them based on the little interaction you had with them. Within a decade, the term “friend” took on a whole new meaning.
During that same decade or so, certain social and political issues became more important, or maybe a new generation of voters was forcing them to the forefront. Marriage equality, women’s right of choice, health care, immigration –people were making their opinions known on all these issues, and it became apparent that we had some very different views.
Social media soon took on the persona of middle school. People had arguments and “defriended” each other. People refused to accept friend requests. We started “blocking” people. These were extreme situations, though, and generally involved people we didn’t like anyway.
At first, it was easy to discern, but then, we began to notice with surprise people we believed thought the way we did – didn’t. As each new issue took center stage, we began to see how the people we had associated with for years REALLY thought.
Women came forward, accusing prominent men of sexual harassment, and the “Me, Too” movement began. We saw people we thought we knew question what we thought was unquestionable. People supported Brock Turner’s six-month sentence for raping a girl and leaving her behind a dumpster. Events like the Brett Kavanaugh hearings showed us which of our “friends” really thought the way we did.
As police brutality took over the media, we were shocked at how many of our friend watched videos and STILL thought victim blaming was okay. Long after Rodney King, people all over the country were whipping out their cell phones and recording police doing some terrible things – to black people. It wasn’t only the police, either. George Zimmerman was not a cop. Black Lives Matter began, and we began to see people getting obnoxiously angry at the idea that systemic racism was actually a thing.
Our “friends” took on new focus. The issues we were arguing about were closer to home, and they were matters of life and death. Women no longer accepted that they “asked for it,” and watching some people victim blame made us question some friends’ principles. Watching people we thought we understood and knew DEFEND George Zimmerman had us scratching our heads in wonder. It was one thing to stay silent – many people were still doing that. But some were actually coming out, in a way, against social justice. And the reality of human rights, or the lack thereof, created a more serious divide than simply politics.
“Agree to disagree” became a thing – but how do you agree to disagree with someone who thinks your kid should not be allowed to get married? How do you agree to disagree with someone that says “why was he walking in that neighborhood” when a 16 year old black kid with a bag of Skittles in his pocket is gunned down by some crazy man? When you say, “we need universal health care” and the first response you get is “who’s going to pay for it,” – you wonder…does this person understand?
So, you try to educate. You explain WHY the Aunt Jemima trademark is racist. You try to explain why it is inhumane to put children in cages at the border. You explain that there is systemic racism in both society AND the police department, and in order to cure it, we need to break it down and start from the beginning. You recommend books. You share articles.
And the response you get from your “friends” is “Yeah, but…”
It seemed to hit a peak after George Floyd. As more white people began to support Black Lives Matter – our “friends” felt the need to fight back.
You try to explain – from your perspective. Yes, you used to think that way yourself, but since you read/heard/saw/learned THIS, you’ve thought differently, and would they please investigate?
And the response you get from your “friends” is “Yeah, but…”
It’s not the blatant ones. The blatant ones are easy to see, and it’s easy to remove them from your life. It’s the meme sharers – the “I don’t have to look this up to verify its accuracy” people. It’s the ones that see something that says something they can identify with, and they say “Yeah! I agree with THAT!” and hit “share” before you can count to – well, 1.
But how about Susie, or Mary, or John, or Michael? That teacher from high school you found on Facebook that you remember fondly? The college roommate you thought you had lost? What about the theater friend you’ve shared the stage with at least 5-10 times – the one who has never shown the slightest blatant prejudice to your face? What happens when they respond with “All Lives Matter”?
It’s difficult to realize that these people are not your friends – that they were never your friends, really, because even if you didn’t know what they were like, the dichotomic differences between you would have put up an invisible wall anyway. But when did they become this – ignorant and unwilling to learn?
They were always that way.
To be real, these are the same people that thought “wilding” was a thing and supported the death penalty for the Central Park 5. Who embraced anti-Muslim prejudice as if they were born to hate a hijab. But we didn’t really know that, because we didn’t have social media to share with us every person’s last thought.
We realized that circumstances threw us together, and it generally didn’t have to do with any compatibility on our part. But social media created the illusion of a friendship that outdid even the illusion of control John Hammond had. And so now we’re thinking “these are people I’ve been friends with for 20 years.”
Have you, though? Really?
Suppose there were no social media. Which of these people do you honestly believe you would try to stay connected with? I would guess that the ones you wouldn’t are the same ones you’re looking at now, cursor hovering over the “defriend” button, wondering what’s going to happen if you hit it.
Nothing – they probably won’t even notice.
Look around you. Your friends are the people that support you. Your friends are the people that think about how what they do will affect you. Your friends are the ones that you see and speak to and communicate with and love – and who love you. Your judgment is fine, once you know who someone is all about.
If you had a party in your house, and someone showed these true colors, would you let them stay? Even if you did, out of politeness, would you invite them back again? If not, cut them loose.
It’s fine to try to educate. For those people we think may be rational, it’s fine to try to explain. But if you’ve tried, and your other mutual friends have tried, and other friends of theirs have tried, and they’re still saying “Yeah, but…” it’s time to cut your losses.
You know who your friends are.