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n the picture she sends me, my friend Linda looks relaxed: eyes closed, head slightly tilted, an almost-smile on her lips, a fleecy white blanket around her neck. “My shoulders have been super tight, so I bought an electric heating pad for them,” she texts. I study the photo, admiring (as I always do) the gorgeous cascade of silver strands highlighting her dark hair and smiling at the little tableau vivant she’s enacted in order to illustrate her bliss. Before I can respond, she reassures me that the heating pad has an automatic shutoff, so it won’t burn the house down.
FROM THE EDITOR Molly Backes, Communications Coordinator
insult or threaten her—but even the seemingly innocuous replies begin to feel like battery over time. It makes perfect sense that people would attempt to avoid the criticism barrage by frontloading every comment with disclaimers. Offline, most of us tend to give each other more leeway in conversation, assuming a certain degree of good intent behind another person’s words, even if we don’t fully agree with what they’re saying. With the exception of certain political arenas, we don’t move through the world like prosecuting attorneys, ready to pounce on the slightest gaff. We’re more charitable with our friends and loved ones, willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. But could we be more generous? I know I could.
I type, “Naturally anxious + extremely online = preemptively reassuring me that your heating pad When I started thinking about generosity of inis safe.” terpretation, I made a mental list of how much true generosity costs: time, attention, presence, “Haaaaa,” she replies. “TRUTH BOMB.” patience, empathy, curiosity, humility... it’s a lot! This impulse to anticipate and defuse criticism is It takes much less effort to jump to conclusions. something I recognize in many of my friends who And how many times have you found yourself only spend time in the trenches of social media dis- half-listening to someone because you’re busy or course. There’s something about the internet— distracted or in a hurry or frustrated or tired? The maybe it’s the relative anonymity, or that quick hit world demands so much of us that it can be hard of dopamine you get when someone responds to to find the energy and attention we need to fully you, I don’t know—that turns normal people into engage with another person on a soul level. When complete jerks. Post something about enjoying a you’re feeling depleted, it can feel impossible to meal kit, and a stranger pops up out of nowhere to give someone else what you desperately need comment, “That’s just salmonella by mail!” Make a yourself. joke about tourists in New Mexico and someone’s immediately in your mentions going, “Oh, so now But that’s why the word generosity feels so fitting I’m not allowed to wear JEWELRY without getting here. It’s much easier to give when you feel flush; the real challenge is giving when you’re broke. In a CANCELED???” culture that rewards the quickest retort and hottest take, slowing down enough to give someone the It’s exhausting. benefit of the doubt feels like a radical act. And in For women and other people in marginalized an economy that depends on capturing as much of groups, these kinds of interactions can get scary your attention as possible, giving your full considfast—I think every woman I know with even a eration to the person in front of you might just be modicum of public visibility has had some stranger revolutionary. ◊
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THE MADISON UNITARIAN
JULY/AUGUST 2023
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