Last month, our writer Rachel Reynolds shared her thoughts on the supportive and less-than-positive comments made to the Duggar family upon announcing the death of her unborn child who, if not lost to miscarriage would’ve been their twentieth.
Her post, entitled Free Speech, Hate Speech, and Facebook was an interesting look at how Facebook allows us to quickly respond to posts with our unbridled thoughts at the speed of a few taps on an iphone.
Today, I sadly witnessed much of the same. Upon learning of the death of Joe Paterno—someone I had greatly admired most of my life as a Penn State alumnae and lifelong fan—posts popped up via Twitter and Facebook that he “deserved to die.”
My big brother and I in Happy Valley, PSU vs. Ohio State, 2009
Back up a few months. When the news broke about the Sandusky allegations at Penn State (unless you’ve been under a rock surely you’ve heard about it), spew was thrown at all alumni as if we were, in some way responsible and/or supportive of sex crimes. After carefully reading the grand jury trial (twice) I was saddened and sickened at the previously trusted officials at Penn State–Joe Paterno among them–and publicly said so in my post: Don’t Hate Penn State.
I was criticized for not persecuting Joe Paterno more in that post. I attended the Nebraska game and saw signs that read “Penn State supports child abuse.” I had colleagues whispering around me in the workplace, afraid to bring up a highly-charged topic that literally brought me to tears on several occasions.
One of the toughest decisions I ever made at that time–and this may seem ridiculously silly to some–was to remove myself from any Facebook groups supporting Joe Paterno. Although I consider anyone “in the know” on the Sandusky allegations to blame, Joe was the only one I admired, and I no longer felt comfortable supporting him (even on a silly Facebook group) as I worked through my feelings.
Over the weeks that passed I started to realize that my frustration wasn’t going to solve anything. I felt that I shouldn’t let that mistake–albeit a grave error of not pushing his superiors to take further action after notifying them of McQueary’s account of Sandusky–mar the years of good that Joe stood for at my alma mater, the students he had mentored, his no-nonsense stance, his Grand Experiment to prove that academics and athletics could co-exist successfully. I started to forgive Joe.
When he publicly apologized, it started to ease the pain of losing someone who was sort of like Santa Claus to us Penn Staters. It wouldn’t do anything to help those kids who were sexually abused (luckily Penn Staters jumped in to do that with RAINN), but perhaps it could start the healing process for a community still in a state of shock.
I thought about all the mistakes (and there are many) that I’ve made in my life, and wondered if, at my dying day, those I’ve hurt could forgive me and focus on the good that I did. I pray this is the truth, as I’m human and I’ll continue to make mistakes, some bigger than others.
When he passed away this morning, I was saddened that he left the earth on this note, and for his family in particular, hoping that the hate being spread now pales in comparison to the love and support shown to them over the last few months. After all, beyond being a coach he was a husband, father, grandfather, friend to many.
Looking to Facebook for the support of friends, I mostly found what I was seeking. But for the few who wish him dead, I’m thinking maybe we shouldn’t be Facebook friends. It’s pretty extreme, and if the family saw similar comments, I’m sure they’d be heartbroken, too.
Unfriending is something most of us have done in the past; myself mostly to protect myself from negative relationships or quite frankly, for privacy reasons when I realized I rarely ever saw that “friend” in real life I kind of reserve those feelings of wishing death for others for people like Jerry Sandusky (if he is in fact guilty, and the evidence appears pretty stacked that way), child abusers, mass murderers.
But today I’m wondering if maybe unfriending is the best protection to getting my heart broken a second time in the same day. Considering that some folks may be showing their true colors by making hateful statements in their status updates, knowing they will hurt others in the process. I’ll have to think on it a bit more before I click that button; losing something else in the same day you lost someone you thought a lot of–well, that seems like adding insult to injury.
