First, I posted the article and incendiary comment on Facebook, knowing full well that I have many politically and religiously conservative friends who would see what I had posted and written the next time they logged in. I've been expressing myself in the wrong forum. (Hence the creation of this blog as an alternative.) I would have never gone to the trouble of forwarding that same article and comment to my conservative friends' personal e-mail addresses; the obvious rudeness of doing such a thing would have prevented me from doing so.
Second, and perhaps more to the point: I chose a hateful way of expressing my sentiments, one that many would find completely off-putting, and rightly so.
I spent the rest of the day crying, hard, at the idea that a thoughtless comment on Facebook may have cost me a friendship that I have held so dear for so long. That I was literally driving my old friends away because of how I chose to express myself. Just how screwed up had my priorities become?
The truth of the matter is that I would not choose to continue a connection to any person who used the word n----r, or who expressed antisemitic views, or who made a habit of writing things I found deeply offensive to my own sensibilities. In fact, I have de-friended people myself in the past, for precisely those reasons. They were always people with whom I had never shared a close friendship to begin with, and I was not sorry to see them go.
Reflecting on this, I realized that I had to apply my own yardstick from my friend's point of view. Again, I shuddered at the thought that I was, to him, what these others had been to me: an annoyance, a lout, an asshat. A left-wing Ann Coulter, if you will. Sure... insulting people can be satisfying, if your goal is to score points. But again, it comes down to intention. What's the goal?
As the Dude said to his friend, "You're not wrong, Walter. You're just an asshole!" I had become Walter Sobchak, without even realizing it. Not everything is about 'Nam.
With some of my conservative friends, I enjoy lively and respectful debates on the subjects of religion, politics, culture, sex, and many other supposedly verboten subjects, or what I like to call, the good stuff. We can rib each other, agree to disagree, sometimes persuade each other on certain points, and then go about our day. I often come away from these conversations the better informed for having had them-- my assumptions challenged, my horizons broadened in some way. I suppose the idealistic side of me is prone to living in a fantasy world where I can enjoy such exchanges with everyone I call a friend.
But that is never going to be reality... especially not if I choose to open up with an insult, which is pretty universally off-putting. A friend recently asked me, "Do you want to be right, or do you want to be heard?" The same friend also lovingly cautioned me to take care not to become that which I claim to abhor. Finally, she teased that I seem to want to ram my opinion down other people's throats, but I want them to like me while I do it. Did she ever hit the nail on the head!
So, in the process of mulling all of this over, I drafted a letter to my dear childhood friend, and I also decided to post here an Open Letter To My Conservative Friends that holds true in general. Here it is:
Recent events in my life have prompted me to take a hard look at how I express my point of view, and I can only say that I was shocked and ashamed at what I found when I did.
They say that when somebody makes you really angry, it's because there's something in them that you recognize in yourself, and that this recognition makes you really, really uncomfortable. In short, those who push our buttons the most are those who mirror back to us the traits that we most deeply dislike within ourselves. One view even holds that these people are precisely the ones for whom we should be the most grateful in our lives, because they are our greatest teachers.
Too often, I forget that, and instead I adapt the most facile, us-vs-them habits of thought.
I am afraid that, without realizing it, of late I have been turning into exactly the kind of left-wing "fundamentalist" that I claim to abhor: sanctimonious, self-righteous, obnoxious.
My political and spiritual convictions may have shifted radically over the years, but in this sense, I haven't changed a bit. It is always a shock to look in the mirror and to realize that, despite all efforts to convince yourself you've "grown", you really are, to quote Kurt Vonnegut, exactly who you were in high school. Imagine my dismay upon discovering how very true this is. The ego is a tricksy little bugger, and mine too often runs the show, I'm afraid.
I have a sharp tongue, a quick temper, and an often profane and sarcastic sense of humour. I tend to use these dubious gifts in the service of alleviating my own sadness, frustration, and dismay... that is to say, when I feel vulnerable. And then I'm always shocked at the consequences. While my intentions are never to offend you or anybody else, that is too often exactly what I end up doing.
I am as deeply convicted in my beliefs as you, my conservative and Christian friends, are in yours, and because of my tempermental challenges, my passion regarding certain matters gets the best of me at times. When I react in the heat of frustration, disappointment or anger, my filter goes missing and I say things that I regret, sometimes alienating people that I care about in the process.
All I can say is that I'm aware of it and I'm working on it. If I have offended you or hurt you, I am truly sorry and I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me. I would rather you call me on this where you see it, than to go. But I understand that it really isn't your job; I am a grown-up and responsible for my own words and actions.
Regardless of whether or not you choose to stick around, please know that I wish you nothing but the best, now and always.
