To my Facebook friends

Sending my hope to all my Facebook friends that you have a pleasant and loving Christmas. I had a great time with you in 2025. You made me laugh and cry and question and wonder. You made me think and think and think again. And sometimes you made me ask myself why I ever thought my thoughts in the first place. 

You made me frustrated and surprised, infuriated and disappointed. You introduced me to ideas that wouldn’t have found their way into my mind if it weren’t for you. I met people I would never have known. This year I got to know the poetry of the brilliant and inspiring, Andrea Gibson. Unfortunately, it was in her dying that she came to my attention. But I thank my Facebook friends for introducing her to me. If you don’t know the work of this wonderful woman, look her up…Will the afterlife be harder if I remember the people I love, or forget them? Either way, please let me remember.

You, my Facebook friends, are relatives I would never hear from otherwise. You are friends from school, from Sunday School, from work, from the community, from politics, from knitting interests, from my travels, from my children’s lives, from the writing world.

You are friends of friends. Most of you I will never meet. Or, at least, never meet again.

I join some of your political conversations. I say what I think either in support or disagreement. Often in those conversations I refine my thinking or amend my ideas or confirm my opinions, depending on what others are saying. Thank you for that. In no other world could I have those conversations with such a diverse group of people. 

It is not completely true what they say about social media confidence…that it’s easy to be your worst self and to say things you’d never say face-to-face. Perhaps it’s true for people who don’t use their name and who hide behind their Facebook mask. I know it takes courage to publicly state what you believe to be true. I have met people for the first time who say “I know who you are. I read what you said about…on Facebook.” That is accountability with wheels. 

Almost always I refrain from exclaiming, “You have got to be kidding. You can’t possibly think that!!!” Although on a rare occasion I express a muted sense of despair.

Most of the time I am ignored, sometimes I’m tolerated and, once in a while, I am appreciated.  I can count on one hand how many times I have been disrespected. On one spectacular occasion I responded to an old friend who now lives in Alberta. She was cheering for Trump’s 2024 election win. It was her site and her right to celebrate. But I had one of those “You have got to be kidding,” moments. I squeaked out a muted contrary response. I was pounced on by her Trump-loving friends with very unmuted name calling. I apologized to her for triggering such nasty comments. She apologized to me for her friends. She took the thread down and we both learned a few things.

Only once have I defriended someone. I didn’t know the woman. She posted several times a day. Her comments ranged from full-out anti First Nations racism to seemingly benign comments about First Nations but ones that were pierced through with racist innuendo and snide jokes. At first, I engaged with her. Then it became clear there was no point. But somehow the algorithm would not let go. She took up way too much space, so I deleted her.

There is so much to bemoan about Facebook: the algorithms, the advertisements, the billionaire ownership, the trolls, the nasties, the nonsense. 

But. For me. For now. Have a pleasant Christmas, my Facebook friends. My world is more interesting because of you. Thank you for that.

And. Now. Do I wish you a Happy New Year? It seems out of place these days. To me it sounds a bit vacuous given the deep anxieties most of us are experiencing. I do hope you find happiness in the coming year. But more than that. My wish is that 2026 brings a new sense of ‘us’ and that our insatiable desire to pursue out individual happiness and defend our individual ‘rights’ becomes boring and so, so 2025. 

My wish for 2026 is that we reimagine being human. Being people. Not in a fist punching “We the people” sort of way. But in a “let’s be good to each other” sort of way. In a “here I’ll go first” sort of way.

I Love Facebook

Mask by Debra Bell

I love Facebook. It’s not a confession that comes easily. I try to be smart, savvy and somewhat sophisticated (I have real trouble with that one) and loving Facebook doesn’t fit the profile. I know the issues. I’ve read the same articles about the evils of social media as you. And I’m not someone who generally feels strong fuzzy affection for mega manipulative corporations. Besides that I’ve got my own problems with Facebook. Mostly I resent the time I spend on it. Facebook is the worst enabler of my procrastinator self.

But I still love Facebook. If it weren’t for Facebook I would not have gotten a surprise package in the mail from Debra Bell with a message—“a gift for you”. Two beautiful green masks. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Debra. In this COVID world I am learning to feel love in the strangest ways and for people I hardly know. I’ve been acquainted with Debra for years and we’ve met in person at craft fairs once or twice. But Debra is a dear Facebook friend. I know her stories, her industriousness, her joys and her pain. I “see” her more than I ever saw my friends before Facebook. She is a new kind of friend and one that I cherish.

If it weren’t for Facebook I wouldn’t know an amazing man from the north who is sharing his journey through dementia. Can you imagine such generosity? I get to have intense conversations with committed NDPers who hate my politics but value good arguments. I am aging with friends from Nova Scotia, Ontario, New Zealand and the United States. Through photos I watch the subtle changes in their skin, their eyes, their hair as they gracefully move through time. And then there’s Bernie. Without Facebook I would never have a random friend named Bernie who lives in London and posts the most British angle on everything.

The other day one of my students wrote in her assignment on stress “the best stress reliever is laughter”. On Facebook I have found a new reason to laugh out loud. I particularly love the twisted, slightly raunchy stuff that comes from my dear niece Angel. Maybe it’s northern Chetwynd humour but I love it.

I am even learning to appreciate the annoyingly negative conspiracy theorists who can’t say a positive word about anything. How else would I have the privilege of getting inside those minds? And when they get repetitive I do have the free will to move on (I’ve always thought conspiracy theorists need to think more about free will).

The western world has had a dictate…don’t talk to strangers about politics and religion. That has never worked for me. Now, on Facebook, I get to reunite with people I went to Sunday School with and others from the same church whom I’ve never met. We all have similar unresolved issues in our post-fundamentalist lives and we get to talk about them, freely, across the globe. Who would have thought?

So, for now, for a million reasons, I am just going to unapologetically love Facebook. In a few years or months, or maybe even days I may feel differently. But one thing won’t change. I’ve got friends. Good friends. And I have never felt such love and appreciation for so many people from so many places before. For that I thank you all.