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| And let the lines of destruction blur... |
With the continuing terror in Syria, I have found that
Syrian Americans have become more and more vocal on their stances. Some good.
Some bad. Most ugly. Back when this travesty began I expressed my concern about
a certain aspect of the revolution that didn't sit well with some peers and I
faced quite the backlash. That's when I learned a very important lesson that I
hope all Syrians will learn.
If you are keen on degrading and cursing one another here,
in the land of freedom where you should be working to unite and support each
other, how can you expect the Syrian world to unite and make peace? I'm
confused. And when I read the harassments of four people, in response to what I
expressed as MY own personal opinion, I realized we will never ever attain peace within our ancestors'
country. We cannot even give each other peace or treat each other with some
sense of decorum.
The silver lining? One of my "attackers" left me a
piece of solid and useful advice that I immediately applied to her. She said,
upon my response to her first insult, "If you can't handle someone
disagreeing with what you have to say then: (1) stop talking/writing publicly
or (2) run along and surround yourself with people who agree with you on
everything." And with just a touch of a button, Facebook Unfriend became
my new best friend.
I don't hold it against her. Two months later I ran into her
at the mosque and she held her infant so innocently and squealed, "Oh
Dania, how nice to see you!" and I realized, "Ah yes! The two faced
syndrome. It runs in her Arab genes."
But I thank her for giving me the shake I needed, the
reminder that I had long forgotten. Surely you understand, I don't mean I want
to be around people who always agree with everything I say. No; but I realized
that I also DON'T want to be around people who are constantly criticizing me,
constantly degrading me, constantly prohibiting me from voicing my opinion, let
alone having one, when they run around gallivanting their ridiculous thoughts.
I can't post a quote or an article or a blog piece on this godforsaken media
without immediately being bashed by two or three "constructive"
criticizers. And how it makes my skin cringe when they do it with the
condescending and fake "I'm just trying to make you a better and more
optimistic person sweetheart" approach.
Sometimes, I will admit, I'm human. I fall prey to believing
the doubts they sew within me. I wonder, "Really? Did my years of
education and writing truly fail me? Are my words a joke? Should I resign from
my post as a blogger, poet, and future novelist?" Then I'll see my
father's facial expression after reading one of my blog posts for the first
time. And then I will hear his words of praise, his words of conviction that no
soul on this Earth should pass without experiencing my work, and I feel my
first sense of reassurance. And my father, let me tell you, he is one classy
man with super high standards. There is no such thing as sugar coating.
Then I receive the first, second and third message from
random strangers who thank me, with tears and sincerity, for writing such
hardcore honest words that they have so longed to hear. And I am reassured yet
again.
Then I begin to notice praise being given to familiar quotes
and excerpts, all being posted on people's walls and linked to strangers'
Tweets and I excitedly realize, "Hey I wrote that!" and I begin to
become just as convinced as my father.
This pattern will probably continue. It's a day in the life
of a writer in the 21st century. Back in the old days I'm sure contradictory
writers had pitchforks and flames coming at them; today there are cyber-attacks
and unfollowing.
It helps when I take a step back and assess who these people
are that feel so confident in branding me a failed writer, grammatically and
contextually. It helps even more when I come to the conclusion that their
advice, when given in such ugly methods, is useless. I can't value the words of
a man who told me my poems are moot and petty. Especially when he says so after I refused to go out with him, which happened after he confessed his recent
addiction with LSD. Yes, yes, just a glimpse into the colorful world that is my
love life!
I can't value the words of supposed long time friends that
have to hide behind the mask of "Anonymous" in order to bash a few
blog posts because they didn't sit well with him/her.
I can't value the words of a male who can't handle the
reality that females go through in this day and age; who must pity the male
species and begins to make it sound like they
need support groups and justice.
But I can value the words of a new friend who tells me,
"Why haven't you posted another article yet?!?!" The value of the
words, "This is remarkable, brilliant and exactly captures the essence of
the situation." I can value the words of a stranger who tells me that
after reading my work she is re-inspired to have faith that women can stand
strong today. That their broken pasts and shaky presents can become solid
grounds in the future with writers like myself.
And these, my dear
criticizers, are the people I choose to surround myself with, because these
people will know how and when to properly keep me in check...if need be. And
I'm confident it will be without spite or bitter destructive criticism or that
fancy fake rosy colored glasses attempt.
