Several of us have been chatting about “cancel culture” and speculating as to its origins, acknowledging damage done by this type of engagement.
I would like to offer some thoughts on what I believe to be the formative soil of this culture in hopes of softening our posture. 1/
Those of us who share this space and engage with one another typically overlap in one of the following areas:
•progressive politic
•background in the Christian faith
•LGBTQ+ experience or allyship
We gravitate towards one another in this virtual space due to shared POV.
However, for those of us who share a faith background AND identify as LGBTQ+, there is a certain repetitive trauma that fuels “cancel culture” that we might be may be missing entirely in our efforts to be well-read, well-liked, or understood.
Most of us who identify as #faithfullyLGBT (or did, at one time) were effectively “cancelled” by our respective churches, families, and communities when we came out.
We were told that their certainty superseded our honesty and we lost jobs, faith communities, & reputations.
And then, we found communities that not only resembled ourselves but also resembled what we lost. Our shared triumph in coming out mirrored our shared trauma in losing what we had known of our lives.
The homogenous community which shared a belief system some of us shunned was replaced by another system - homogenous in a different set of experiences and beliefs.
We all clung to one another, as communities do, and in real life, many of us have built really beautiful and rich relational intimacy. Some of our online relationships blossomed into these real-life relationships. And we felt as if we had found our people.
But at some point...
Someone in our shared community expressed an opinion we didn’t think they should have.
Asked a question we thought they should already know.
Dissented in a way that felt like an affront to our shared sense of belonging and humanity.
And somehow, overnight, we became - in our engagement - the exact type of engagement that pushed us out of the community to which we first felt some semblance of belonging.
In order to protect this new community, something called “cancel culture” emerged to silence those of who disagree and dehumanize people whose views threaten our own and perhaps even threaten our sense of security and trauma.
This, my friends, is a trauma cycle.
Perhaps unknowingly, many of us became so invested in the possibility of a brand new community - that understands us, shares most of our beliefs, and holds us up when we need it - that we forgot to also be a gracious container for each other to learn and grow.
I am continually inspired by the folks in this community who brave criticism in order to fight oppression. But I would hope that we would also fight oppression within our own communities by refusing to ever dehumanize another human, regardless of their question or opinion.
As @aliciatcrosby already pointed out, if we are not willing to invest in the *relationships* within our communities on an intimate, relational level, then we have no business pretending that our online communities are as close-knit as we purport.
I would like to invite everyone on this space who has been walking on eggshells in fear of being “cancelled,” who has been “cancelled,” or who has ever “cancelled” someone else to gently consider one another’s humanity.
Working out our humanity in public, online spaces is a very new way of being. We are the ones pioneering this engagement.
And I am quite certain none of us want to perpetuate the rejection and “cancellation” culture we experienced prior to engaging in these spaces.
In order to change the trajectory of our dialogue, it is imperative that we all reflect back on how being “cancelled” from our families, churches, and communities impacted us on a deep *soul* level and then **insist** that we do not repeat that pattern with each other.
We arrived in our respective online communities not because we were born into the beliefs we now hold but because our former beliefs & communities were burned down by vitriol & lack of grace.
May we not be guilty of holding the torch which engulfs another’s life in flames.
Rather, may we employ compassion, graciousness, curiosity, correction - sure - but in kindness.
May we invite learning and even a differing of views, lest we invite the narrative that to belong means to be the same in all manner of believing.
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
When you grow up in a religious culture that convinces its members that everyone who believes and lives differently than them has been deceived and doesn’t know the Truth, it’s easy to see how half the country has been brainwashed to believe cold, hard facts are “fake news.”
Tr*mp’s America didn’t develop overnight.
His followers were primed by the evangelical church, which teaches that the world is against them and that it’s the sworn duty of its members to never waver in their certainty, even when they can’t explain their beliefs.
Blind faith that lacks critical thinking and biblical/historical scholarship has led to blind trust in untrustworthy leaders —
Leaders who claim to work in their best interest of their followers while brainwashing their followers to believe everyone else is against them.
I moved from the suburbs of Chicago to a small town in Tennessee the summer before 8th grade. When I opened my U.S. History textbook, I noticed something weird. My TN textbook detailed the Civil War in complete contrast to my IL textbook. It sounded like a totally separate event.
It was the first time I ever heard the Civil War referred to as “The War of Northern Agression.”
It was the first time I ever heard the phrase “The South will rise again.”
It was the first time someone had ever called me a “Yankee” and meant it as an insult.
Back then, I thought to myself,
“What did they mean, ‘the South will rise again?’ Rise to WHAT? Slavery?? What could the southern states possibly be holding a grudge about and why is there so much animosity around this war that clearly made America better?”
To extinguish the plague of racism in the United States, white folks first need to address the whitewashed version of Christianity upon which the US was founded that (1) underlies our broken system of justice & (2) signals our complicity in acts of violence against black bodies.
Whitewashed Christianity is what enables white folks to go unchecked in their ignorance, as they echo phrases like “I don’t see color” with a false sense of moral superiority, while carrying on with their casual, everyday racism fueled by their “color blindness.”
But that’s just it - racism is never casual. It’s just not always overt. It doesn’t always look like murder in broad daylight or men masquerading in bed sheets to terrorize their neighbors.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my body’s resistance to what is happening all around us right now.
My innate fight/flight/freeze response to this global trauma. The startling jolt each morning of our present reality.
My body’s desire to escape and find safety.
How that jolt throughout my heart, my mind, and my body—while still fiercely present—dulls a bit each day.
How the initial grief at empty streets, citywide closures, and extreme social distancing measures is morphing into something else:
Numb acceptance.
I can tell my subconscious mind has grown to accept this eerie reality as “normal” because when I see photos of groups of people, my whole body tenses up.
I wonder what it will be like when we can all be close to each other again. Will we hesitate to gather in groups?
About 4 years ago, I embarked on a 3 week silent retreat. No phone, no music, no books, no tv, no distractions of any kind, and no contact with the outside world (aside from one hour a day with the therapist facilitating the experience).
While it was one of the most transformational experiences of my life, it was also brutally painful and devastatingly lonely.
Since many of us are facing unprecedented amounts of alone time and isolation, I thought I would share a few things I learned from my experience:
1️⃣ Developing a routine, of some kind, is essential to establishing some semblance of normalcy. This could be as simple as eating meals at the same time every day or as stringent as time blocking your day.