You know, the kind of thing that happened in the comment thread of this post is one of disappointing things — one of the down sides — of Internet community. Someone leaves a comment, gets questioned about the comment, responds defensively or cryptically or, in this case, both, and later decides he or she is being attacked and disappears into the ether — for good, one assumes.
It frustrates me. A lot. I asked said commenter no less than four times to please elaborate, please explain, I’m trying to understand you, but, no, she wouldn’t ultimately do it. I read and re-read what I said to her and asked myself if I was rude to her. I could have reworded things — I know I could have — but that’s the same ol’ saw for me, something I always beat myself up about. I guess I’m frustrated because, while on the surface of her initial comment there was kind of sympathy, sort of compassion, it seemed like it was mostly extended to those poor cows — actual cows — who can’t have babies.
I myself do not have compassion for childless cows. My compassion on this issue is reserved for humans only, creatures who can feel and understand loss. But maybe that’s just me. I’m heartless that way.
Interlaced into her comment, though, was a kind of creeping prejudice towards the childless-by-choice contingent. Not as blatant, perhaps, as Dennis Rainey’s, but nascent, cut from the same cloth, and it was that which I felt I should question.
I’m not trying to throw this particular commenter under the bus; it’s just the most recent example of commenters who don’t check their tone or who say careless things they’re ultimately not willing to apologize for or defend, as the case may be. I realize it’s hard. It’s hard always to know how we come across because it’s nearly impossible to be objective about ourselves. But perhaps a good clue is if you’re told repeatedly that your comments come across as negative or snarky or gloomy — or whatever — you might want to edit yourself, double-check a comment before you click submit. And if you’re asked, by more than one person, to clarify what you said, perhaps you weren’t clear to begin with or perhaps there’s an idea you left unfinished, something more to explore.
But don’t go running off. I realize it’s the Internet and nothing is easier than running off in a huff or tail between your legs, but that’s unfortunate. To be completely honest, I don’t respect that because behind all the words and comments you see on a blog are REAL flesh-and-blood people. People who, yes, do get hurt and frustrated by words on the screen. People who are left hanging if someone hurls accusations and then disappears. Life is hard enough, isn’t it, without recreating high school in the Internet? Let’s be the adults that we are. Answer questions. Be courteous. Follow through. Engage in civil debate/discussion.
A personal rule of thumb I try to follow: If I wouldn’t say it to a person’s face, I don’t say it on the Internet. It’s a simple rule, but, still, the invisibility and anonymity of the Internet make baser interpersonal instincts so much easier to indulge. We have to fight it and I include myself in that. Obviously.
On another note: If you ever feel offended by something in the comments, something someone else says, honestly, I feel it’s their responsibility to manage that. Fortunately, that very rarely happens. Nonetheless, I don’t take ownership of comments I didn’t make. I have enough problems with my own mouth to worry about monitoring others, so please don’t expect me to apologize for that which I did not say. If comments ever get too ugly — that hasn’t happened so far, to the best of my knowledge — I’ll step in or shut them down or something, but we’re all adults here so I leave self-discipline to the individual selves who participate in this blog.
Life’s hard. Even harder right now for so many.
So let’s be kind. Practice it ourselves and encourage and applaud it when we see it in others.
Luckily, I’ve just fallen off my soapbox. Ahem.
