Be the same person online that you would be to the friendly neighborhood Girl Scout who comes to your door selling cookies each year.
I was that Girl Scout.
Each year, I skipped over to my neighbor’s house with my order form in hand. She was a leader in our community and always welcomed me in. She took an interest in my life and even offered me my very first babysitting job, before I was old enough to drive.
I went back to visit her a few years ago when I happened to be in my hometown, even though my family had long since moved away from my childhood home.
But this week, she stopped my scroll with a post she shared online.
It was filled with stereotypes, racist slurs, and hateful rhetoric toward immigrants who believe or speak differently than she does. It was difficult for me to read. Even more disturbing, it was all wrapped up in Christian language.
The little Girl Scout inside of me trembled. (And then posted a thoughtful but direct response.)
How could this be the same neighborly neighbor who I had known and respected my whole childhood? Was she only kind to me because I looked, lived, and believed like her?
I often wonder, when people share posts like this, if they are actually in meaningful relationships with anyone in their real life from another country, culture, religion, or language. I tend to doubt that they are, because proximity truly changes perspective. It is so much harder to reduce someone to a stereotype when you know their name, have listened to their story, or have shared a part of everyday life with them.
The child that neighbor once invited inside grew up to become a healthcare professional who has cared for families from many cultures, including parents who prayed differently, spoke through interpreters, or arrived in this country carrying stories I could barely imagine.
Their language was never a measure of competence or ignorance, and their country of origin never determined their dignity or worth. None of these people were labels or stereotypes or political pawns. They were my beloved neighbors, patients, and friends.
Language is a gift, and I admire anyone who is multilingual. I’ve learned so much from my immigrant neighbors, and our differences are always an invitation to widen our perspectives.
Next time you find yourself nodding along with a post that creates an “us vs. them” narrative, take a moment to check your assumptions. Seek to understand a broader context outside of stereotypes. Recognize shared humanity. And then, before you hit “share” on the next post, imagine saying those words to the neighbor at your door. Imagine saying them to a child, to the little Girl Scout who still believes you are a kind and loving neighbor.
Then take a moment to ask yourself: Is the online version of me the same person I claim to be in real life?
Also if you lace your words with the name of Jesus, ask yourself an even harder question: Do those words actually reflect Him?
With cookies in hand and neighborly love,
Leigh