How I befriended the 'unfriend' button and focused on the connections that mattered
CBC
This story originally published Feb. 15, 2022.
This First Person piece was written by Tenille Lafontaine, a blogger in Regina. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
We all have that friend whose posts make us shudder or keep scrolling. Initially it was easy to turn away, because it didn't affect me personally.
I don't believe that's an option any longer, especially as those divisions become clearer and harder to ignore.
A recent poll for CBC Saskatchewan suggests that our society has become more polarized. In that same poll, 31.5 per cent of respondents said they have reduced contact with a friend or family member because of differing views or opinions.
I am one of them.
Even before 2020, I was aware of friends on my social media accounts — mostly Facebook because I'm of that "Facebook age" — who had some strong, questionable opinions. I can't say I didn't know or didn't see it. I saw a former high school classmate's racist comments on the Colten Boushie trial and ignored them. I saw a mommy-group friend posting about her anti-vaccine thoughts and shrugged because that was "the way she is."
I'm ashamed to say I ignored these things and didn't address them head-on back then.
It wasn't until the start of the pandemic, when we were mostly at home and mostly online, that those opposing views started to stand out more.
That guy with the racist commentary was louder, blaming the virus on incorrect sources and using slurs to describe immigrants. That old mommy-group friend was sharing misinformation from dubious "health and science" sources.
More people joined in. People I had connected with in the past were sharing a side of themselves that didn't resonate with who I wanted to be today, or who I want my kids to look up to.
I was watching in real time as people I had once thought to be stable, reasonable members of my friend circle revealed themselves to be mean, vicious and even paranoid. I witnessed arguments online that went beyond enthusiastic debate into attacks, name-calling, and even threats. I consoled friends who were anxious over impending holiday celebrations, knowing that a relative who had "gone down the rabbit hole" of social media would be at the dinner table.
When we began this pandemic, we connected over our failed attempts at sourdough starters and united over expanding our cooking beyond boxed macaroni. But the darker side of our isolation was learning more about the people we surround ourselves with, whether in person or online.
How had we moved so far — to a community ripped apart — when we needed solidarity the most?