Here's where I get all preachy. You can skim this one.
February 20, 2005Here on the Internets, some or other bloggers have been criticized for talking about their troubles when others have it worse. This is an all-too-familiar routine on many blogs—the ol’ My Pain Beats Yours So Shut Up number. It goes a little something like this:
1. You shouldn’t be sad because your child has a scraped knee—my kid had to get stitches.
2. You can’t be upset about your kid’s stitches; my child is sick.
3. My child’s disease is worse, therefore you don’t deserve to bitch.
4. Shut up. My child is sick and I’m sick and also I’m writing this on a computer made out of cardboard because that’s how poor I am.
5. At least you’re alive. I’m writing this from my grave. Stop whining. Stop it. Booooo.
6. God, can you shut up, dead person? At least you’re not suffering. My life is a never ending festival of torment. Also I have hives.
(Please note: I’m not trying to make fun of anyone’s suffering. I cannot fathom how much suffering is out there, and I can’t begin to imagine the pain that other people withstand. Imagining such things would mean weeping and that would make the keyboard soggy, and the circuits and the whatnot would short out and cause some kind of Electric Dreams scenario, and people, I cannot afford to have my computer fall in love with me. )
And now for a story:
A while back, a friend of a friend was injured in a stupid, tragic accident that resulted in the loss of her leg. At the time she was also writing an advice column for teenagers. After I heard about her accident, I would at times wonder if she had ever responded to another complaint about the Tragedy of Bad Hair or The Heartbreak of Loserdom with, “I know how you feel. Because I LOST MY LEG. Which is just like losing your homework and getting a D. Except, you know, it’s a LEG.” Because I like to kill time with pointless activities, one day I went online and read a bunch of her columns. Week after week, she gave patient, compassionate advice to problems that the best of us would deem awfully silly. She never compared anyone’s pain to her own; she never even mentioned her pain. I know part of this was just her being a professional. But also, she clearly knew that pain is relative—just because you could hurt more doesn’t mean you don’t hurt.
That’s the thing about pain: perspective doesn’t necessarily ease it. Say I stub my toe: if you grab me and scream, “What if I had chopped that toe off with a cleaver! THINK OF IT!” I may be distracted by your odd behavior, but the pain in my pinky toe will not miraculously dissolve. When someone writes in their blog of some misfortune that’s befallen her, she is not necessarily writing her definition of the Worst Thing That Could Ever Happen to Anyone. Just because she could hurt more doesn’t mean she doesn’t hurt.
When I spoke to the New York Times, most of what I talked about was how the parenting blogs are, most of all, authentic. That’s all we’re after (I think)—some representation of authentic experience that we’re not getting elsewhere. We sure as hell aren’t getting it from the parenting magazines, which provide canned information about vaccinations and discipline and baking nutritious muffins that look like kitty cats, but will never help you feel less alone, less stupid, less ridiculous. This is the service we try to provide—we share our lopsided, slightly hysterical, often exaggerated but more or less authentic experiences. If one blogger writes about her traumatic doctor’s visit, then maybe at some point, some freaked-out new mother is going to read that and feel a little better—less stupid, less ridiculous—about her own breakdown at the pediatrician’s. Or maybe not. But what service are you providing when you tell her to shut up?
I now return you to your discussion of my son’s itchiness. He’s itchy! It’s the worst thing that could ever happen!
Reader Comments (92)
Hmmmm. Haven't read everything Plato ever wrote but...that sure doesn't sound like Plato. Or Socrates. I don't think they were much into kindness. But who cares about Plato?! Be kind for fuck's sake.
WHatever the name, it sucketh.
These blogs are the only place where you can get honest parenting stories.
And I'm sorry Henry is itchy. Because although it may not be as tragic as a nuclear bomb wiping out a camp filled soley with babies and kittens and puppies, or even the papercut I got the other day, it still sucks. Poor little Sith Lord.
But you're right (write!) on. For me, I feel like we all share our experiences and some folks have it worse and some folks have it better. And it's ok.
I don't get the blog trolls. (Get as in understand and as in, they don't comment on my blog...probably b/c it's much too lame and doesn't attract them!) And to be honest, I'd really, really like to study trolls. I know not all I'm-worse-than-you-are commenters are trolls. But why would someone slam a blog author? If you don't like the blog, stop reading!!!
Lovely thoughts, I most certainly agree!
also, i feel compelled to mention that just yesterday the husband and i were listening to the audio clips from the 'electric dreams' soundtrack. it will be ours within a fortnight.
I have a little Henry at my house, too (and a Charlie, although he's a child, not a dog), and they are itchy itchy Icabods as well. And it reassures me to read that your Henry is mysteriously itchy, for no good reason, certainly not because of anything his mother did, god forbid, because, for us, this IS a catastrophe (as evidenced by the sad whining from my Henry after every handwashing and bathing). And after four years of no sleep and no personal time and no extra money, I need to hear that I am not alone in the blissful hell that I find mommydom to be.
That's all. And amen again.