Protesting Isn’t for everyone. But …

Facebook. Facebook. Facebook. Notice how the stress levels go up. Notice how friends and co-workers seem just a little different when the get the freedom to say what’s on their mind? Here’s the conclusion: maybe it’s time to investigate a new strategy.

(1) Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to leave the platform. Face it! There’s not really stealing al that data if the app is on the phone, are you? Leaving though means that site that uses Facebook login no longer works. Events in the community are harder to find. That gem of friend is never found again.

(2) Just troll the platform. Frustrating though. Imagine having a good day and then doom scrolling through Facebook just sucks out the life. What? Who believes that ish? Really? The co-worker I admire has thinks that out loud. This where serious depression can step in and cause copious amounts of drinking and stressed sleep.

(3) Stop trolling and engage. Ask probing questions. Try to see the other side. Then, carefully, carefully, share your thoughts. No labeling. No name calling. No passively aggressively suggesting that the person needs to do some research. Provide the research. Try not to shout. Try as hard as it might be to listen. See what happens! But, consider the most important person here: you! Keep the balance. Step away when needed.

Social media has made the world small and flat. Sometimes refreshing. Others, so cruel. Yes, so close. Gathering in a filter bubble isn’t going to improve humanity. And, everybody just isn’t open to change. But, somebody is.

094/365 – The 1950 NAACP Convention Venue

I’m walking again. There isn’t a historic street sign that I won’t stop and read being a bit of closet history buff. I happened to be Memphis for a funeral. This was the church that the funeral was held at.

Sunday Routine

Every Sunday. Every Sunday. For most of the time since the current craziness started. Every Sunday starts with The 5. Amazingly, five kids from 118th in KInsman, all reasonably successful get an opportunity to share the morning over Zoom.

The youngest suggested it when he was growing tired of realizing that traveling was going to be a thing of the past for a while. The meeting even had an agenda. That was quickly and rightfully so quashed pretty quickly.

They don’t get to be in the same place often. But, since this craziness, they see each other every Sunday. Well, they mostly see each other.

It’s good to remember the stories. Of Cleveland. Of Mom and Dad. Of the neighborhood. Of what’s going on right now.

The best part. They know they’re here for each other. And for the youngest, that’s probably the most important thing.

The Sunday Routine? May it never stop. The craziness could stop that. That’d be kewl.

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