The Advocate

You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.

Winston Churchill

Someone, actually quite rudely, told me that they were annoyed by what I wrote, they rolled their eyes, that I didn't have to "advocate" for everything.

I can see how I might become "that girl." The fanatic always in arms about something.

In this case, I really don't care if I'm generalized.

I give voice to those without one.

I work to help the babies in Haiti, babies born with congenital heart defects, woman in Iran, or to support other mother's whose children died because I feel for them with my whole heart. I'm compassionate.

I'm even compassionate to the bratty person that said that. If they must sit back and judge someone else for speaking up, perhaps they feel voiceless? I get angered for a minute, but then feel nothing but compassion.

Let me be painted the wild fanatical blogger always taking up a new cause.

It's much better than the alternative, never sticking up for anything I believe in.

I've read the emails of the CHDs detected, the crutches delivered to a needy person in Haiti, and the eyes opened to the plight of the Iranian women because of what I do.

I embrace the criticism that I advocate too much.

It's what I do now. After what I went through, I can't close my eyes to the pain in the world anymore.

Why I quit Facebook.

I did it. What many have threatened. Many have thought about.

I quit Facebook.

For a while now, something about Facebook, or “Dramabook” as a friend called it, wasn't sitting right with me. I’d said a few times I felt like a stranger in my own profile. When it comes down to it, there were a lot of reasons I quit Facebook. Well, and to be fair, I still run Cora’s page and a page for this blog and have a tiny profile I don’t plan on updating to run them from. So, I didn’t totally leave Facebook.

But, I quit my personal page.

1. Everything was a debate. I’m known for a love of debating/arguing and really thinking about things with my friends. But, there’s a time and a place. Sometimes, I just wanted to post how I felt and get support or to vent. But, it seems like my status updates were starting to be place for everyone to argue and debate over whatever it was. I just didn’t have the energy to moderate and calm egos to make sure no one was attacked/offended.

2. OMG the drama!! Every few weeks, or couple of days, “fights” would erupt. And, yes, I deleted those people that caused the most of it, but still heard about it, and was just annoyed.

3. It was too hard. In a week, 13 children died whose parents were on Facebook and connected to me there. I cried so much. At one point, I called the pharmacy to see if I had a refill for an old anti-anxiety medication, something I’d taken for just a few months immediately after Cora’s death. While I want to be there for people, it was ripping me to little shreds. I still seek out families to offer words of comfort on their blog, and through Cora’s Facebook page, but having it forced down my throat was so much.

4. Facebook was messing with my head. Really. It was. I might jump on to share a link and a baby coffin would pop up in my feed or something else that I was unprepared for. The shock of these images was only making my PTSD worse. I’m sure of it.

5. I can’t intimately keep up with 1400 people. That’s about how many were on my friend’s list. And, I’m a caring person. I cared for (almost) all of them. If I read that someone was having a bad day, I took to learn why and help them fix it. I got upset at their problems. I worried about their financial situations, their health, their grandparent’s health. You name it. But, to get that emotionally involved with 1400 people? Exhausting. I feel bad saying it. I feel bad for abandoning these people, most strangers. Facebook has become a place where people share intimately designed for people to either abandon it or become close with all. It’s impossible to share that sort of intimacy with 1400 people.

6. I was getting rather irritated at Facebook’s lack of regard for my privacy and data. I was a fan of the new group’s feature, thought it might help me control my use, but that backfired when I found strangers being added to my groups because of a Facebook design flaw.

7. I was spending too much time on Facebook. Facebook became integrated in what I did to spread Cora’s Story, but I spent waayyyy too much time there. I’m going to write a post about how I’m using that time now.
 
8. Facebook constantly made me feel bad. It’s true. I was constantly getting messages about what people were saying. People questioning what I was doing. I share Cora’s Story. I share her love and beauty period. At the end of this, I’ll share a story about the worse of this.

9. While many people on my friend’s list loved, or at least appreciated me, some flat out hated me. I found out after that people told other people we didn’t “get along” or other things. And you know what? To be honest? There were one or two I didn’t like much either.

10. I met some really black hearted, morally corrupt people there. First, for every one of them, let me say, I met 500 good people, literally. But, just like in the real world there are some really bad people, there are also on Facebook and in online communities. I didn’t want to see it. I deleted them after I found out. But, getting messages from a wife that her husband was cheating on her? Flipped me out. It was gross. I didn’t want to know. And, I didn’t want to be in any way related to those people. And, drug use. And, accepting drug money, because someone was broke. And, then with others kids being taken away for abuse allegations. I’m all for accepting and forgiving people, but if they were in the middle of this stuff? I didn’t need them near me. I deleted anyone with anything like that over their head, but it came to my attention that there could be more evilness.

11. I was getting news of harassment. I read nasty profile updates. And, then started getting notes from my friends that they were being tracked down to get a note about how awful I was. Too much. Too silly. Too much drama. That folks? Is harassment. I considered contacting the proper authorities. And, that’s when I decided the time had come. For me to quit Facebook.

12. My family and friends seemed afraid of my Facebook. They read all this crazy stuff I think and didn’t comment on my stuff anymore. And, isn’t that Facebook is about? Connecting with family and friends? At least personal accounts.

13. Facebook seems to breed bullies and hate. I think Facebook is where people first started gathering and hating on my friend Jill because of a choice she made. You probably know her story. She was harassed on the very day her son died. Just like it brings people together for good, it helps people build on the bad. It's where the inactivists first gathered against her. I'm not sure Facebook is to blame itself, I think this happens on any large social networking site, but I'm done with hate. I'm done with negativity. Just done with it.

So I quit. I worried that people would take it personally and think I’d blocked or deleted them, part of why I write this. I deleted almost everyone off my list individually if I had a big problem with them. It wasn’t you.
Interestingly enough, my decision was reaffirmed just an hour or so after I left. I thought a group I’d made for just the heart families on my list would delete when I left. I heard it did not and that there was drama there, so I reactivated and rejoined just to delete that group.

And in the chat of my own little <3 family? The little group I’d made for love and support? I saw people bashing me. It hurt. But, I also realized how little some of these people knew about me or cared to know. One said mean things but acknowledged I’d taken time to “find links to share” like all this time, all these relationships I created, all those links I WROTE myself didn’t matter. The crazy thing? I didn’t even recognize that girl’s name. Have no clue who she is. Another wrote about how dramatic I was. For months, I hid what I knew about others and just deleted them. I rarely ever commented publicly about anything to do with the infighting. I did choose to write a status update with my contact info when I left, but dramatic, they had no clue.

If you’re on Facebook and have people you’ve added that you don’t personally know, think about it. Really think about that choice and apply a filter to what they say. And, use the delete option to weed your friend's list. It's YOUR Facebook. Don't let it get out of control. Learn from me and my mistakes.

If we used to be Facebook friends, please stay in touch, on my Facebook page for this blog or through email. I’m at kbrite at gmail dot com.

Do you have reasons why you'd like to quit Facebook some times?

And, oh yeah, I also moderate these comments now! So be nice.

At My High School, We Were All Bullies. #GayIsOk

High school seniors with legs flopped over the seats in front of us in the auditorium, waiting for one senior activity or meeting or another, friends I didn’t get talk to often and I caught up, sharing our after high school plans.

The next year, I was headed to Indiana University’s main campus in Bloomington. A hippy dippy school where farm girls like me went in conservative, Catholic, and scared to question anything mainstream, and came out liberal, Buddhist, and knowing everything should be questioned.

“You’re going there?!?!” My ‘friend’ asked. “Didn’t know you that place is full of gay people! It’s the gay capitol of the state,” she exclaimed.

I sat back in absolute horror.

Oh, you guessed it, not horror at what she said, but horror that it might be true.

I’d never met an openly gay person. Oh, I spotted one once at a school play, a former student and actor game back for the play and from a few rows over, my friends whispered about how he’d “come out” in college and we all threw him side way glances to get a good look at what exactly a gay person looked like.
But, was I headed off to a gay school? Was everyone thinking I was? Even thought it’s a large state school, less than ten people from my graduating class were going there. It wasn’t what people did. I was doing something different.

Because I’m not giving myself enough credit, I always knew I didn’t quite agree with the high school foolishness and urged to get out, but didn’t know how to or what that meant.

But, was my sometimes friend right? Was IU only full of gay students? And what would that mean exactly? Would I find any straight people there?

And, wait, I distinctly remember this thought, why was it so bad if gay people were there?

Sure, I’d heard over and over that this or that was “gay.” The phrase “that’s so gay” escaped my own mouth up until I went off to college. There was nothing wrong with saying that. I was never told it was bad by a classmate, teacher, or any community member. It was fine.

In short, I was a bully.

We all were.

Any time the phrase “that’s so gay” escaped my lips, it was potentially bullying an in the closet (no one at my school was out) classmate.

All the gossip about the gay student at the school play? Bullying. He saw those looks. And, I’m sure he overheard many of the whispers. It wasn’t right.

I wasn't ever the ring leader, but it doesn't matter. I didn't taunt, haunt, or speak badly to any gay student in my school. To my knowledge, there no openly gay students. But, I didn't stop it. I didn't stand up when I heard people talk and gossip. Since I went along with it, that makes me an active participant.

Fast forward to August 2000, I somehow survived freshman move-in day. I’d completely forgotten that I was headed off to a “gay school” and just started interacting with fellow students.

Turns out, IU isn’t just for homesexuals, but a beacon of diversity in the middle of a vanilla state.

I loooooooooved it!!! I loved going to parties and meeting people from all over the world. I loved meeting other Hoosiers and learning not even all of them were what I thought. And met many friends from the East coast and was in total awe of how cool they were. Classes were okay, but really, the dorms are where I learned the most that year.

And these people I met? Some of them were gay. But, I barely noticed. They were just my new classmates.
That’s when I stopped thinking of anyone gay as “the other.” I just met some gay friends.

Now, I always pause when I hear about people being unaccepting toward GLBTQ people. I don’t even understand. Don’t get why people would even make a big deal of it. They're people. Who the hell cares about their sexual preference? Why does that even matter.

I haven’t drug up those ugly memories from my own teenage and childhood years in a small town where to this day being gay is a “problem" in a long time.


And, I’m glad I did. Glad I wrote this post and had to go back there.

Not because I understand it any more. It’s absolutely ludicrous, faulty thinking to condone treating gay folks as anything other than people, individuals. Harassment, bullying, and any sort of unequal treatment need to stop, and that means that gay people should be able to get married, share insurance, and be able to hold hands in total comfort even down the streets of my tiny hometown.

Now that’s off my chest.

I’m sorry.

If I was your bully.

Even on accident.

Closing comments. #GayIsOk. Period. This is a non-negotiable.