Boundaries and bubbles.

Today I went on a run around the lake. We are having unseasonably warm weather here in Minneapolis, which is supposed to end after a week or so; the leaves are still on the trees, the sky is clear and blue, and as yet there's been no snow and little frost. The path around Lake Calhoun is wide, tree-canopied, and inviting: it passes two playgrounds, swings by a busy uptown intersection, then close to where the lake laps against a wall and the waves bound and rebound, crisscrossing each other on their way in and out, dissolving into turbulence. At many places along the path there are lovely views of the skyscrapers of downtown, which from many glass surfaces reflect the sky-colors; when it's clear, at sunrise or sunset, the whole skyline sometimes turns a brilliant shade of aquamarine.

 

I love my adopted hometown, and I am fond of the familiar views that give me a sense of place. I thought about all the people in all the hometowns across the country, waking up and walking the dog, or driving to and from jobs, or hanging out with family, looking at the views they see every day: views that I could only see and appreciate with visitor's eyes. I know not everyone loves the place where they live, but my wish for everyone in all the places is to see something beautiful that means "home."

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I realized today that I live in a bubble online that I have created around myself. It is not a bubble of liberals nor a bubble of conservatives, not a bubble of Catholics or of homeschoolers or of mothers. Indeed my Twitter feed and my timeline have people from across the political spectrum and who do many different jobs and who belong to different religions or no religion at all. With most of my privacy settings to "friends of friends" I often hear from new people. I believe in reading arguments I don't automatically agree with. I believe in listening to people tell their stories, even if they come with agendas.

But I do live in a bubble from which I will readily expel anyone that violates a certain value I have, and that value is civil discourse. Say what you like, say it firmly, even say it sharply in order to best make your point. But I will mute you, block you, or unfriend you if you persistently make ad hominem attacks on the other people in the discussion. Likewise, if you use abusive language or excuse abuse. Likewise if you use slurs aimed at racial minorities, slurs for gay people, or gendered and racialized terms of abuse, intimidation, or mockery. Likewise if you attempt to use a person's legal or social vulnerability to intimidate them.

I mentioned that I set my privacy settings to "friends of friends" because I enjoy hearing from new people. This is true, but one thing that makes it possible is my willingness to block and mute friends-of-friends whose discourse is so uncivil or unpleasant that I don't wish to see it on my wall. No one needs to know that I have done it; I don't generally mention that I have blocked someone, because why give an unpleasant person any more oxygen?

I have blocked friends of friends for making sexually and racially charged jokes in the comments under a post about breastfeeding advocacy in minority communities.

I have blocked an immediate family member of my own for pointedly mentioning to one of my friends, a homeschooling advocate who had disagreed with him in my comments, that he was "friends with the superintendent of her district," and then contacting her repeately in private messages after she told him to stop. (Friends: I have your back.)

I have blocked friends of friends for making unwelcome sexual comments about images I have posted (that my own friends have "liked.")

I regularly hide from view posts that dehumanize, that express unjust prejudice against people of different religious beliefs, or that mock people for having strong feelings or disabilities.

I readily mute people who bother me on Twitter in an uncivil manner. No, not because I disagree with them. Because they are asses. There's a difference.

If you stir shit online where you think I can see it, and you don't get a rise out of me, know that it's probably because I have found a convenient way to ignore you.

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I mentioned in my post yesterday how I was swinging from place to place, trying to find where I stand post-election. I think I am narrowing that place down a bit, and I am doing it by setting boundaries around myself not to keep undesirable people out, but to rein myself in.

Building a little fence, saying I will only go so far in such and such a direction.

Some of that I expressed in a comment I made on Jamie's post...

I'm struggling to find a place that

-- does not normalize this president-elect

-- does not further marginalize the poor and rural voters who chose him

-- respects the free and fair election process

-- sees clearly the reality of this new political order and acts rightly within it

-- distinguishes between the things the president will want to do that are bad ideas because they are, you know, normal wrong political policies I would normally oppose, and the things that come out of his narcissistic cruelty or that would cause structural damage to the republic that transcend politics

-- finds common ground among the many people with disparate political philosophies who are dismayed at the character of the president so we can work together and speak together to limit damage to the republic from the latter example above

A tough place to be.

The more I think about it, the more I can see that I am setting boundaries for myself. I don't know what my final attitude will be, exactly. But I know what I don't want it to venture into, and I am building little fences that say "This far and no further." I won't normalize Trump's behavior or minimize his psychological unfitness. I won't strike back at, marginalize further, or dehumanize the poor and rural voters who chose him. I won't undermine the free and fair electoral process. I won't be trapped myself in denial or paralyzed by dismay. I won't mistake ordinary partisan politics for fundamental existential threats to the republic, and vice versa. I won't let political disagreement between myself and other #nevertrumpers -- whether they are to my left or to my right -- dissuade me from trying to communicate and work with them to minimize the damage that a Trump presidency might do.

Since then I have added a few more boundaries.

I won't denigrate anyone for being upset or frightened, or for coping with that upset and fear in any peaceful and respectful way.

I won't wish that things will go so poorly for certain causes that I will get to say "I told you so" to people that trusted Trump to promote them.

I won't teach my kids that President Trump's unworthiness means we don't pray for him or wish his ultimate good.

I won't despair.

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Here's hoping I draw strength from the bubble I live in, the one I am not sorry for, not one bit.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Comments

[Joseph]

"I won't despair." I was corrected a year ago for a sign of despair and I'm not letting it happen again now.

[Christy P]

I have been actively avoiding post-election news. Traveling can be good for that. I am, however, enjoying your posts.

[-Jen]

Thank you so much for giving voice to so many feelings that I share, post-election. I so appreciate you sharing your thoughts which have helped solidify my own.