Earlier this week, Big Salon front-paged an essay entitled “Why My Kids Watched Me Give Birth,” by the aptly named Madeline Holler. One learns to approach these slice-of-life pieces with a jaundiced eye, but this one was quite good: a cynical homebirth tale mixed in with a confident mommy blogger meditation practically qualifies as genre-busting these days.
You could feel what the comments were going to be like before even clicking the little button.
Child abuse! said some.
Narcissistic hippy! cried others.
Even our beloved Dr. Amy weighed in on the evils of homebirth.
While there have been a few people who shared their stories of attending their own mothers’ homebirths and coming through with varying levels of psychological scarring (one said she developed serious behavioral problems that she blamed on witnessing the birth, but allowed might have had more to do with having yet another baby in the house; another said it made her a faithful birth-control user because she knew what she was in for) and a few self-described midwives and birth attendants who felt the Holler kids should have been better prepared and better monitored during the birth, the bulk of the 150+ comments have been pure invective.
I don’t like to believe the world is filled with rude, nasty, insulting people. Internet comments really challenge that belief. There’s something about the anonymity of the computer screen that allows people say the most extraordinarily horrible things about fellow human beings.
Quick example: when Sarah Shourd was released from an Iranian prison last week, the following comment was posted to a story on the LA Times site: “The remaining "hikers" should indeed be left to rot and die. All three are either spies or abjectly stupid idiots who could have only decided to hike in a worse place if they chose Tehran. If the former, they never had any business in espionage. If the latter, they compromised our national security by giving the maggots in the Iranian government a bargaining chip. As far as the "ill hiker" who was allowed to leave, drop dead.”
The comment called his/herself “Pollyanna.”
In two years of blogging, I’ve taken my lumps. While the majority of my commenters are respectful, challenging my ideas without attacking me personally, I’ve also been called a bitch (sometimes true), a racist (never true) and -- gasp! -- a feminist (true, and will likely be carved on my tombstone). The absolute worst was a guy who posted bits and pieces of my resume on the Washington Post site to illustrate what a “loser” I was.
It’s some kind of quirk of the brain: without the physical presence of a real human being, we forget they have feelings -- in a sense, we forget they exist. So we feel free to ignore that self-censorship that is necessary for any society to move along without constant strife.
I’ve done it myself. Yesterday, in fact.
I posted a comment on Slate.com on a story about the suicide of Virginia Quarterly Review editor Kevin Morrissey this summer and it’s relation to “workplace bullying.” This has been a big local story, as well as a national one, and when one commenter posted with that kind of all-knowing tone I’ve really come to hate about an aspect of the story that potentially has more than one side, I chimed in, paraphrasing a quote I’d seen in a different story on the case.
Compounding that error, I also didn’t paste the direct quote with attribution and a back link, as I might have done here on my own blog. I presented as my own viewpoint, even though I have no inside knowledge of the situation.
Not an hour later, I had a note left on my Facebook “Wall” from one of those Facebook-friends-I’ve-never-actually-met, who just happens to be one of the former VQR staffers. By making the comment that I did, I had inadvertently accused him and his co-workers of bad behavior. He was understandably upset.
It really rattled me. It’s not enough to say I didn’t mean any offense -- I simply hadn’t thought about anything other than winning my point. The fact that I was saying something potentially hurtful to people I’ve undoubtedly passed in the aisles at the grocery store or the library or the local bagel emporium never entered my consciousness.
The interactivity of the Internet is not a bad thing. That you all are willing and able to take me to task when I go off the rails has made me a better writer. That some of you have taken cheap shots have left me with a slightly tougher skin. And I’ve gotten to know people I’d never otherwise have met.
I just wish it didn’t have to come along with all the bad stuff.
After this week, I’ve decided to put myself on a Comment Diet through at least through the end of the year. Not here...this is my space. But no more Huffington Post, no more Salon, no more Slate, no more AlterNet.
I take as my philosophical guidance the immortal words of JOSHUA to Professer Falken in WarGames:
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??? ... Sage, is this you?
Whenever I comment on anything, my only rule is that I can only write down what I would be willing to say to someone's face. I think if we all did that....it would be a lot nicer out there.
Sad part is, I don't know whether Anonymous Internet Asshole is the true underbelly of humans, or just childish behavior brought out by the freedom of it.
I hope for the latter, but am terrified it's the former.
So to just quit, well, that shows an unwillingness to demonstrate restraint, no? You're smart and thoughtful. You are not the one who should be refraining from play.
My more general response to your piece is mixed. Here's what I think: I think you're absolutely right that anonymity generates disrespect. But it also generates that truthfulness that real life relationships make very difficult to express. I'm not saying that those are the same thing; that is, I'm not saying that one must be disrespectful to be truthful. But I think you can't create a climate of feedback that is so narrow as to include one without the other.
I read the home birth piece you speak of and I questioned the author's motivation for writing it. I trust that you know me well enough--silly as that sounds--to know that I didn't throw out one of those nasty one-liners she got. But, yes, I believe I was pretty direct in criticizing her lack of respect for her own children's choice in the matter. And I'm not sure I'd do that to someone sitting in my kitchen. Maybe I would. I'm known for my honesty even in real life. But maybe I wouldn't. I go back and forth on whether this is a good thing, this liberating honesty.
Sometimes writers complain about their negative responses without once considering that at least a few are offering substantive disagreement, however badly couched. I think we can learn from those. My own blog doesn't generate much traffic, but to the extent that I ever write something that incites a riot (LOL, that exaggeration was for giggles), I mean brings up some controversy, I try to ignore any emotional undercurrent to a commenter who disagrees with me and just go for the nugget, either to defend my original point of view or to muse about this new idea. It's hard, that's for sure. Especially if the commenter hit a nerve. And if there's one thing I've learned about myself, it's this: The more defensive I feel about my work, the more likely it is that I'm resisting a truth that I will eventually see and accommodate.
Very interesting topic, as always. :)
Not a lot of others do that. I get attacked a lot by random, anonymous entities, and sometimes I just have to chalk it up to arbitrary rudeness that you can't do anything about.
Cross-posting here and on big Salon can be a really interesting experience, especially when you end up with two sets of comments: the nice ones on your own blog, and the nasty ones over at Salon. It makes you value the importance of writing community, and how important it is as a big buffer against the big world full of rage-a-holic letter writers. And it really makes you question the triggers for your own letter writing. Every time I make a comment now, especially a negative one, I have to ask myself whether it's worth the energy it's going to take to defend it. Okay almost everytime. I do fall off the wagon from time to time. But much less now than I used to.
That said, comments here at little bitty OS tend to be sane and gentle by Wide Open Internet standards, even during the monthly eruptions of "I'm OK, You Suck."
Thoughtful piece.
No go clean up those idiotic spam comments. :-)
these same writers (omg, i'm not sure i should use that term! *lighten up, that's a joke*) are usually the ones who defend their general ignorance as a badge of honor.
My grandmother birthed 10 children at home with all the kids in the farmhouse. In 1905 - 1927 the nearest hospital was an hour away by horse and buggy so fetching the neighbor to watch the kids was a better shot. Bonus if said neighbor was a midwife. That's how my Mom had the first 3 kids, too. Birthing at home is decidedly NOT "New Age crystals-and-candles"
I don’t like to believe the world is filled with rude, nasty, insulting people
Yeah, well, pre-Internet all those nasty insulting people had to settle for talking behind people's backs. Gosssssip. The nasty word that hisses like a snake. Now they can say nasty comments and not have to look people in the face. Drive by insults. Go, go Interweave. ;)
Some on OS would have us dis-engage, as if it were somehow cleaner or truthier to not comment, or never respond to comments. Restraint is good, but applying one rigid set of rules is un-necessary and self-limiting.
Some on OS are cruel. Some even, ahem, show up here, making comments on what you wrote. Disregard all such excuses made for "honesty" that is in fact juvenalia.
It's two decades and counting, this internet delusion, that we are "different" on the internet, and drop our "masks".
Sheer nonsense.
People have always lied, posed, pretended, and ranked on each other, using whatever technology was at hand. The challenge is what it always was, always will be: to be compassionate. To be fierce with our thinking, but not with each other. To honor the truth. To realize we all tend to be an ass at times, and to walk it back with dignity. To make our apologies simple, and not just more information about Me.
To say the thing, make the case, engage a bit, then let it go.
Snark works as a spice, as zest, not a main dish. And the very best satire, the most satisfying rants, come from good minds and generous hearts, who speak from a consistent morality.
Snide for its own sake is pathetic, and empty, and addictive. Name-calling is the lowest form of debate. That you agonize over miscues, misjudgments, and mis-communications speaks well of you, Heather. It is a very good thing to not do online fights. No one ever wins.
Ignore those who would have you think there is anything adult about the murk of meanness they swim in.
Oh, and truly, how funny that they think kids watching their siblings being born is child abuse. I guess every child since the dawn of time until fifty years ago was abused. . . .
I´m graded by my looks...
Never mind....
This is the Canary Islands
And I haven´t met anyone reading books..
All they "talk" (not read) about is sex... homo and hetro....
Even the birds and da beez on the overhead phone lines are..
Living in the capital city of mostly unemployed Canarios and millions of temporary vacationing foreigners it´s not that dull at all.... At least I get a kick out of airing me lungs.... more often than not.... I donated one of my childhood books.... Boccacio´s Decamerone.... in solid German.... Über Deutsch.. !! The voice went dead..... GripeVine & Donah..//
Because we all do it, me and thee. I no longer think there is such a thing as perfect, finessed online communications, a place to get to, a skill to acquire, a perfect presence of mind to have at all times.
You identify your own mis-steps without adornment, false piety, or excuses here. The dialog is what matters, and it trumps the One Exchange. We illuminate ourselves more when we turn the light around, much more so than when we hide behind silence or attacks or gossip/posturing/blame. If internet conversations (or the never-ending collaborative memoirish fiction that this is) are to have real merit it is in our process with each other, not in any Declaration od Last Word.
There's a hard core here on OS (and everywhere else on the internet) who factionalize and reduce and wall off, who hold an ax aloft ready to sever someone for one post or comment. As if they had that power really.
Because human beings are thus and ever so. Because it gives us a temporary thrill, the illusion of power, to do so. And once in a while, firm, fierce things must be said about ideas, and behavior, if not to the supposed absolute character of another.
When we feel self-righteous, we're wrong. Life online is not a game of whack-a-mole, but even those of us who know this, and struggle not to, might yet heft that rubber mallet again. None of us have got it quite right yet. It's what we do now, and now, and now, that matters most. I admire this brave, forthright post immensely.
I do support the practice of providing sources for facts, but this can be done on request if you're in a hurry, or don't feel like typing a wall. And you're entitled to your opinion, and you have the right to share it, so even if it's NOT fact, at least you're participating in a discussion.
Yes, if we comment on sites that allow people we know to view them, sometimes people we know may become annoyed/unhappy/irritated by our comments. But if we're being honest, and providing facts, and not being deliberately snarky, the upset can usually be minimized with a modicum of diplomacy.
There's such a dearth of facts these days, I just can't stand the thought of someone who has them trying to avoid sharing them. Friends are important. Helping to educate the American public before we further destroy the country is important. There's usually a way to do both.
=)