I took a break from social media at the start of the new year. I deleted all apps from my phone and vowed to stay away at least until Landon’s birthday (y’all know I had to share that cute turkey on his birthday!). I needed to get away from the constant negativity, the “he said-she said”, and of course, the constant political discourse that never led anywhere productive. For a few days, I missed the “outside world”, but after a week, I hardly thought about Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat. As fate would have it, I logged back in on Landon’s birthday, January 26th. The unbelievable tragedy of losing Kobe Bryant would serve as a reminder of why I deleted social media in the first place.
First, I will admit, there were some incredibly beautiful tributes. Heartbreaking photos of Kobe and Gianna, incredible stories and anecdotes about grief, parenting, the fragility of life. So many people pouring their hearts out in words more beautiful than I could ever write. I was glad that I logged on to read those beautiful sentiments and be reminded that none of us are promised tomorrow.
And then….the ugly.
“Who cares about Kobe? There were OTHER PEOPLE on that helicopter!”
I didn’t know Kobe Bryant personally. I’m not a Laker fan…I’m not even a basketball fan. And no, his death is no more important than anyone else on that aircraft – than anyone else in the world. What SHOULD be a moment of shared grief over the death of a highly acclaimed athlete, has become a pissing contest of who’s grieving who. Of course people are going to reference Kobe and Gianna before any of the other victims. The people angry over the “forgotten” seven are the same people spending their paychecks on tickets to games, concerts and movies. We make people famous and then we’re mad when that fame makes their name a headline over someone else’s?
“Good riddance….rapist!”
On Monday morning, less than 24 hours after the man died alongside his own child, while a mother, a wife, children and siblings are all VERY freshly grieving, #metoo is trending while a handful of people seem to be celebrating his death. What this man did or didn’t do is not for us to judge – and hours after his death is certainly not the time for Facebook warriors to play judge and jury on a case settled over a decade ago. IF the man was guilty, he stood before THE Judge on Sunday morning. Can you hold your stones for a few days and let his family grieve?
“Here’s an article about 30 soldiers who died in a helicopter…bet no one will repost this!”
The unspeakable loss of the 30 American soldiers who died in that horrible crash is a true tragedy. They were American heroes – no doubt. Their deaths are just some of the many soldiers who’ve boldly and purposefully laid their lives on the line for our safety. That crash was awful – a full fifteen years ago. I guess actually reading an article before you share it doesn’t fit into the agenda when you’re desperate to prove there are more meaningful things to care about than Kobe. Grief is not mutually exclusive.
“4 people died in the crash – no, 5. No, 7. No, 9….his whole family was on board! Rick Fox was there too! They were on their way to camp – to a practice – to a game!”
“Vanessa Bryant read about this on TMZ before Los Angeles police could contact her.”
Let’s talk about the LOADS of misinformation that was shared about the crash that day – the worst of which involved killing off people who weren’t even on the aircraft. Are we so eager to be the first to “break the news” that we share any and every shred of evidence we can, even if it isn’t accurate? Clearly, TMZ is and discovering that a glorified “news source” (read: gossip blog) is how Vaneesa learned of her husband and daughter’s passing made me sick to my stomach. Imagine scrolling your feed and reading that headline? And do you know who I blame for that? Us. We read and share the articles, we give them the clicks they need, we put the money in their pockets. We allowed that.
And, the ugliest:
“Youtube: Video footage of Kobe Bryant Helicopter Crash”
Share. Share. Share. Share. Share. Share.
I don’t have any meaningful insight or articulate explanations for those who shared fake footage of the crash. You’re sick and that’s trash. Period.
It’s amazing how much death can teach us about life. It gives us the perspective we so often lack – that life is short, and there is little more important than the family and friends you surround yourself with. Kobe’s death gave me that perspective and more. It reminded me that social media can be beautiful – it can provide a much needed laugh or wise anecdote on a hard day. In the best of times, it can make an important petition go viral or spread prayer requests and GoFundMe accounts for someone in desperate need. Generally, it provides me with a way to contact and keep up with former co-workers and students, high school and college classmates, and more often than not, family who live minutes away but somehow only find the time to talk online. I still want to share with the world – declare my love for my husband, show off my cute kids, let my online friends see little glimpses of my life. That’s the beauty of social media.
But in the worst of times, social media can be a dark, ugly place. A place of cyberbullying and catfishing. A place of fake news and even faker friends. A place where your search history reveals who you envy, who you hate, and who you just can’t let go of. We compare our parenting to the Pinterest mom, our bodies to the photoshopped insta-model and our finances to the family who paid off $90k in three years. For me, it’s a place where a simple political opinion or shared article has me in a rage stroke as I desperately and unsuccessfully try to get people to open their eyes and minds to what’s really happening in this world right now. “Spirited” debates with people I don’t speak to in “real life” – neither of us respect each other’s opinions so why are we wasting our time? We’re giving our energy to internet trolls instead of the living, breathing humans right in front of us. It’s draining – for all of the reasons I’ve listed above and so many more.
And I’ve come to the realization that, for now at least, its not the place for me.
words you asked for {+some you didn't} 