If you’re lucky, and I am, your mother’s voice rattles in your head with regularity, reminding you of how you should be handling your life.
Among the little bits of wisdom I received from my mom that have stayed with me through adulthood:
“Eat one more chocolate chip cookie, and you’ll turn into one.”
“Use a coaster. I don’t want water rings on my coffee table.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say about anyone, don’t say anything at all.”
The last phrase comes to mind more frequently than the others, although I still have an attraction to chocolate chip cookies and a phobia about water rings. It isn’t difficult to recall it — and violate it — when the likes of Trea Turner, Sean Newcomb and Josh Hader are around.
People who mine the world of social media for dubious posts of the past and present have made Turner, Newcomb and Hader household names over the past two weeks. All three are major league baseball players, and all three have been found to have uttered either racist, misogynistic or homophobic remarks — or all of the above — via Twitter or other social media platforms back when they were teens.
My biggest issue here is with social media itself. It offers very little of use, particularly in terms of fostering responsible debate, in exchange for fostering tolerance of the notion that hate speech without ramification has a place in this world.
I’d have been smacked by either of my parents if I’d uttered out loud some of the dumb things Hader, Turner and Newcomb felt compelled, back in their days of Clearasil, to share on their smartphones. My only guess is the thoughts they felt compelled to share came from a mix of stupidity, hubris, hormones and the faint belief that, as talented athletes, they’d be immune to repercussions.
So perhaps we should be grateful to the dirt-diggers. Yet it’s social media, and the anonymity it offers, that enables such people to act upon whatever motivation might drive them — hatred, revenge, alliance to a team or cause, basic meanness — to expose these athletes’ past transgressions. This isn’t an altruistic endeavor by any measure.
You’re all guilty.
In fact, when it comes to constructive debate, social media offers very little. For all that Facebook provides as a means of uniting lost friends and family members or sharing experiences, it erases in its greedy grasp for sellable information about its users. Twitter can be handy for briefly disseminating news, but put it in the hands of a egomaniacal bully, and you have … well, you know who.
With the revelations about Newcomb, Hader and Turner, we’re left with the question of what to think, how to react. Should the hammer come down for what they’ve said a number of years ago? Yes, but only to a point. If your mother told you to forgive and forget — or even if she didn’t — you should attempt the first but think carefully about the second.
I never said I followed everything my mother told me to the letter.
Baseball’s tweeting threesome has probably felt a level of discomfort for having been revealed, and they should. But so should those who revel in bringing such behavior to light without being held to the same degree of scrutiny. This isn’t shooting the messenger; it’s asking whether the messenger has the moral compass necessary to determine what’s right, what’s wrong and what’s worthy of response.
If you don’t like my point of view on anything, my contact information is at the bottom of this column. Let’s talk. But I won’t engage with people who lack the courage to reach out to me and who choose social media anonymity instead as their alternative.
If you have something on your mind, don’t be afraid speak it. But be responsible in doing so, be prepared to defend your position and don’t take refuge in the fingertip safety of social media to make your case. Responsible opinion carries with it the expectation of consideration and contemplation, two things social media lack. Having a point of view was never meant to be easy.
Your mother might even tell you she’s proud of you.
Greg Fennell can be reached at gfennell@vnews.com or 603-727-3226.
