The last week in Austin had been a fascinating exploration into how folks respond to other people’s trauma. I’ve been gathering and categorizing some of the ways folks have been responding and stitching about it. It’s just food for thought as I start to process my experience.
Dismiss it:
It could be worse
It’s not that bad
Yeah, but
 
Judge it:
If I were there, I would have…
Why didn’t you just?
Can’t you just…?       

Blame:
Well, what did you expect?
You should have planned better
Why did you go there?
Why did you do that?
What were you thinking?
Reverse it:
Well, THIS happened to me and that’s way worse
 
Minimize it:
Well at least you aren’t…insert unrelated trauma experienced by others.
 
Capitalize in it:
How can I make money off of this trauma?
School you:
Let me tell you why this trauma exists.
Here are some links to how you can avoid this trauma again.
Supportive:
I am so sorry to hear you are going through this right now. I am here for you. Here are some of the ways I can be of service to you right now. Do any of those feel helpful? Is there something you need right now that I can help you with?

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More from @ShannonDowney

18 Feb 20
A story about me and the Boy Scouts of America...

I grew up in a scouting family. My parents were Troop Leaders, my brother is an Eagle Scout. I spent every weekend of my childhood at Boy Scouts events. I did everything they did. I got no badges. I didn't get to wear a uniform.
I still loved the scouts because I got to camp, and build shit, and race cars, and spend time with my family in nature. I didn't see how excluded I was because I was always there (but never officially) Like a weird boy scouts ghost. When I graduated undergrad I applied for and
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23 Oct 19
A story... (in proper thread form)

I go estate sale shopping regularly and whenever I find an unfinished embroidery project I buy it and finish it bc there’s no way that soul is resting with an unfinished project left behind. One day I found this stunner for $5. The I walked
into the bedroom and found a box full of fabric. I opened it up and discovered it was a massive quilting project that was just begun. Every bit of the project mapped out and in this plastic tub. I sat on the floor and almost cried bc I knew I had to buy it and finish it but
it was a massive fucking undertaking and While I embroider, I don’t quilt. I bought it for $6. I took the address of the home and did a little research and learned that the owner was named Rita and it seems she died at 99. That woman STARTED a massive quilting project at 99...
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