“Tell me lies tell me sweet little lies.” — Little Lies, Fleetwood Mac (1987)
These lyrics from songs pre-dating social media give credence to the fact that only wanting to hear good things, easily digestible things, is nothing new. But I don’t know – there’s something about this era of social media that makes me think it’s been taken up a notch…or two…or a thousand.
Looking back, one of the first times I remember experiencing this that really made an impression on me was in the workplace. It was when I was a temp at a now defunct women’s interest website. It was circa 2006, 2007 at the onset of the whole web 2.0 thing. The site that I worked for was expanding. They started doing things like featuring blogs by famous people. At one point, they even had a TV show. It was like one of the first shows to ever stream on the internet as well as air on TV at the same time.
One day, while at work, I remember reading one of our blogs that was supposedly written by a famous TV journalist. Having watched that journalist’s work for the past decade, it wasn’t long before I suspected those posts weren’t written by that famous TV Journalist. They just didn’t have her voice. In my temp naivete about how corporate America works, I blurted out, “did she write these?” after reading several posts that just didn’t sound like her. I only wanted the best for the site and figured if I could recognize that this journalist didn’t write these blog posts, I was pretty sure other fans could as well.
We sat at low partitioned open cubicles where you could basically here everyone’s conversation. I remember it being frowned upon that I, a temp, would even dare to question if those were actually that journalist’s words or if a ghost writer had stepped in and was grossly inadequate at an attempt to mimic her voice.
Oh, and as for as the show they put on? Well, it was, how do you say – terrible. When asked in the open office, what I thought of it, I told them as much. But of course, being the solutions-based person that I am, I didn’t just leave it at that. I told them specifically why I thought it didn’t work, maybe also even how I thought it could be better – I don’t know, it was a long time ago.
Sometime later that day, when the office was fairly empty, a woman in her forties – I was in my twenties at the time – the only other black woman in the department who graduated from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism (iykyk) and whom my boss told me was the only person ever to get a perfect score on the editorial test they give you before getting hired (which I didn’t have to take because I was a temp), walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and she bended down to whisper, “people here have been working really hard on this show, so you might want to watch what you say about it,” then walked back to her seat. After that, my boss – another woman, Jewish – resolved I didn’t have enough to do for the amount of money they were paying for me ($25 an hour, though I was only getting $15 of that while the temp agency pocketed the rest), made me watch the show every day.
Ultimately, the show turned out to be an instant flop. It wasn’t long before it was cancelled. Oh, and regarding the blog? While most people didn’t want to hear what I had to say about it not sounding authentic, there was one coworker who did seem to be interested in my opinion. She and I had started around the same time, maybe even on the same day. I remember them being really excited to have her. She came on as an editor, permanent, not a temp like me. I forgot what she did before she started working there, however I do remember she graduated from Cornell.
Weeks had gone by since I voiced my opinion about the blog, when one day, again when the office was mostly empty, she came up to me and asked my thoughts about the blog. I had never had a problem with her. She was always nice to me. We didn’t sit in the same area, so perhaps that had something to do with it. Nevertheless, I was grateful that someone was valuing my opinion, so I gave her a whole spill on the blog. She had nothing bad to say about me questioning the blog’s validity. Instead she listened intently and made me feel like my opinion mattered.
This corporate norm of blindly agreeing, I, unfortunately, had to learn the hard way. But have I really learned it? Anyway, it also seems to be ubiquitous on social media.
I remember when I first started using Instagram about 10 years ago, it had already been pretty popular for a few years. As you may know, I’m a fan of cupcakes, so naturally when I came across the page of a cupcake baker who was whipping up cupcakes in unique, constantly changing flavors – not just your typical chocolate, vanilla and red velvet – I had to give her a follow. Turns out this cupcake baker didn’t just make cupcakes, she also made wedding, birthday and special occasion cakes. One day she posted pics of flowers she drew on a cake as practice to potentially offer as a design option for customers in the future. In the caption she asked, “What do you think?” Now me being new to Instagram, I didn’t realize that this wasn’t an actual solicit for impartial opinions but rather an invitation to dote on her work. As such, I answered honestly and basically said something to the effect of the object she drew on the cake resembled a flower if you’re looking at it in an abstract way, otherwise it’s best to leave it off. I think I was the first one to comment and all the comments after that were about how beautiful, gorgeous and fab that crazy-looking flower was. I think there might have even been a comment that said not to listen to me. While the baker posted a general thank you to everyone for their opinions, with my comment being the only one not praising the flower, it began to dawn on me that a lot of these people aren’t on here asking for honest opinions, but rather they’re on here looking to validate their egos. They want praise, not perspective. And there’s a whole bunch of people lined up to give it to them – praise that is.
Personally, I typically don’t comment my opinion unless asked or it’s a topic that’s up for discussion. However, I do believe that if you’re posting on social media and you’re comment section is activated – for the most part – whatever you’re posting is fair game for someone else to attach their opinion to. Afterall, you could easily deactivate the comment section, or even better, you don’t have to post at all.
Now this doesn’t mean people should be mean and nasty in the comment section. You can critique the facts without calling names. However, there are some hard truths, hell there are some not-so-hard-truths, that no matter how they’re delivered, if they don’t match up with what the poster and they’re diehard followers want to hear, will be met with vitriol.
There’s this one woman I follow on Instagram who I think it’s safe to say is morbidly obese. Her channel is primarily about cleaning, organization and self-care. In the course of her posts she’s shown herself doing things like filling her snack drawer for herself and her kids with a bunch of unhealthy foods like chips and candy. She’s even posted herself making coffee several times with a concoction that screamed diabetes. I’m talking coffee, with flavored creamer, sugar and a chocolate candy dropped into it for good measure.
While watching the reel I was thinking to myself, damn that’s a lot of sugar. That’s not to say obese people should never have sweets. I’m an obese person, and I’m gon eat my sweets. But I’m also not on social media making it seem like overindulging isn’t a bad habit. To be honest, I wanted to comment as much, but I would probably never. Other followers were not as apprehensive. There was one in particular, I recall, mentioning something along those lines, and boy, let me tell you, other followers let her have it. The critiquing follower wasn’t even mean about it. She was just pointing out the unhealthy quality of what we were witnessing. That, of course, did not matter. The poster didn’t even have to respond. Other followers swiftly jumped in, telling her about herself, how she needed to leave the page, on and on and on. All the while, I couldn’t help but think the critique needed to be said. I think I may have even liked her comment. Oh, and not to worry, she was able to hold her own.
But there have been other times when I have commented on someone’s post in a way that disagreed with the poster. And I tell you, no matter how many times I’ve liked or said nice things to them before the comment they didn’t like or agree with, after that, they stopped liking and replying to my comments, even when I said something in favor of them. I was just ignored.
I don’t know, I just find that interesting…but also a bit scary for the state of the world that we are in today. It’s almost as if we’re so wrapped up in this new-age description of self-care, coupled with the fact that we have access to so many people and so many people have access to us through social media that it’s hard to discern who is truly for you or against you. So to make it easy people are just labeling everyone who disagrees with them as a hater.
But what if the real hater is the person who is gassing you for no reason?
From all this I’ve extrapolated two lessons or key points to think about. I think the first is pretty obvious, but here we go: Everybody that critiques you is not a hater. Everybody who has an opinion opposite of yours is not jealous of your or trying to tear you down. In some cases they’re just trying to help you.
The second point would be – and this one, I think is a really hard one to adjust to: Even if they do have malicious intent, it would still behoove you to ask yourself is there any truth or validity to what that person is saying.
Recently, I wrote about the Coco Gauff and Aryna Sabalenka controversy that occurred after Coco defeated Sabalenka in the French Open final. During the press conference following her loss, Sabalenka had some disparaging remarks about Coco’s game that resulted in a lot of backlash.
While I can’t say for sure, I do think there was malicious intent in Sabalenka’s comments. One, I don’t think she respects Coco or her game and therefore I think she was genuinely insulted that she was beat by her. And two, I also think she was trying to get into Coco’s head. While I’ve been a tennis fan for decades now (thanks Venus and Serena) I still don’t know most of the technicalities of the sport. What I do know is that there is a huge mental component to tennis. Your physical skill alone won’t win you matches if you aren’t able to get a good grasp on your mental acuity. I think by making those comments, Sabalenka, who has her own struggles with keeping her emotions under control, was trying to capitalize on Coco’s insecurities so that Coco would lack confidence going into the next tournament, taking away the momentum that comes with earning a Grand Slam title.
Interestingly enough, Coco was out before the quarter-finals in the final two Grand Slams, exiting Wimbledon after the first round and the US Open after the third. But what a great lesson for Coco to learn at her young age. Even if Sabalenka’s comments were strategically malicious, if one can divorce themselves from the insult to get to the heart of the matter, an insult can be flipped on its head to empower you. Coco ended up firing a coach and hiring another one to help her with her serve. So maybe there was some truth to what Sabalenka said. Maybe Coco didn’t play her best, she just played better than Sabalenka.
So often I hear the advice to look over an offense. If someone insults you, just ignore it and go about your business. And, you know, I can’t fault that advice. But I also think that before you look over it, maybe first look into it, see if there’s something, anything you can glean from it first before you discard it.
Oh, by the way, remember that coworker I told you about? The only one who was interested in hearing my opinion about that celebrity journalist’s blog we were posting on our site? Well, turns out she was the ghostwriter. Mind you she never told me that when she came up to me and I wasn’t savvy enough to know any better. I don’t remember how I came to find out she was the writer. I think I stumbled upon it in a shared file or something. I never mentioned it. By then, I’d learned another lesson – to shut the fuck up…well, kinda.
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