Most of the time, I avoid expressing my political views on Facebook. My husband and I have a politically mixed marriage, so to a certain extent, this effort functions to preserve marital harmony. I also acknowledge that in my situations, being married to a husband who votes differently than I do has taught me to be very tolerant. Although I don’t always agree with his point of view, I am usually able to understand it. And I often find that my own political views are tempered by this understanding. Importantly, I have learned to focus my disagreements on positions and views, never on the individuals who hold offices or are running for them. I have refused to make things personal by referring to elected officials I dislike as “douchebags,” “stupid,” or “idiotic.”
Additionally, my Facebook friends come from many walks of life. They are from different states and countries, they have a variety of political and religious views, and they don’t all know me well. My choice to not post political comments has been made for the purpose of not offending people who feel differently than me. I consider myself a fair-minded person, and I want those around me to feel comfortable. I dislike the idea that my words, expressing a viewpoint that might offend or upset others, might cause discomfort in my friends. Although I would like to think that those words could change minds, I think it is more likely that some words could cause those who disagree with me to simply dismiss my ideas as being “other” and not worth reading.
I want to be a bridge-builder, not a bridge-burner.
Over the past few days, I have engaged in a great deal of political conversation on Facebook, in response to my governor’s proposed Budget Repair Bill. This has been extremely difficult for me to do. I have been in tears a couple times. I am terrified by this bill and the potential harm it will cause to my family’s budget. We have already been through financial hell the past few years. Experiencing the cut in take-home pay that would result from this bill’s passage would be one more thing keeping us from keeping our heads above water. This is personal for me in a way that most political issues are not.
Many of my colleagues have posted the letters they have written to their representatives. I borrowed heavily from their letters when I wrote mine. But I cannot share it. It refers to things that my family has gone through recently, and I don’t want to air my dirty laundry to all I know on Facebook. The letter is my voice, desperately begging for reconsideration. I feel like I am on my knees, clinging to the robes of the lawmakers and begging for alms. It shows a desperation that I strongly feel, even though it is not something I want to parade in front of my friends and colleagues.
I am making an effort not to personally attack the governor. I simply cannot bring myself to do that, although I find that I want to. I confess, too, that I enjoy seeing my friends’ status updates and the groups they join that label the governor as a dumb-ass or a douchebag.
Never before have I felt so conflicted about what I am posting there.
