Well, Now, That's Just (Un)friendly

I think the entire world has a love-hate relationship with Facebook.  Six years after its inception, it has reached an almost ubiquitous status within almost every age group with the manual dexterity to type.  Everyone, everyone, belongs to Facebook.  Even the "hold outs" have secret alias pages from which they surreptitiously spy on their friends, family, and secret obsessions.  (Oh come on, you thought we didn't know?)  It's almost instinctual and unavoidable for most of us to key into our accounts at least semi-regularly and click through our persons of interest. 

And it makes sense.  Humans are, by nature, pack animals.  Historically, we have organized ourselves into tribes and clans.  In the modern world, we choose neighborhoods and teams.  We gravitate towards community.  Facebook simply brings that effort to the digital world, and, frankly, makes it easier to expand one's community from next-door neighbor to people across the world.  I see more clearly my acquaintance in Singapore than I do the stranger that lives next door.  And the myriad emotional and mental benefits we get from building a Facebook community -- love, belonging, intimacy, acceptance, security -- are easier to collect online than in the "real world".  All it takes is the click of a button, and someone is your "friend", acknowledges your association, and affirms your place in their personal relationship schematic. 

I recently went on a trip to "adult" summer camp, where I met a bunch of new people, formed the bonds that only summer camp can foster in such a short amount of time, and came away with shared experiences that will connect me to these people for as long as the memory lasts.  On the last day, my new friend RG said to me, "As sad as I am that summer camp is over, I can't wait to go home and make like 30 new friends on Facebook!"  Um, AGREED.  The next few days were filled with friend requests, photo sharing, and comments galore.  We all indulged in the excitement of a new community.  No wonder we're in love with Facebook!

Intermittently at least.  The next week, the other side of Facebook reared its ugly head when I discovered what could only have been a recent "unfriending".  In 2009, the New Oxford American Dictionary actually added "unfriend" to its lexicon and named it "word of the year", beating out a slew of other heavily used tech jargon.  Fitting, I think, as it evokes so much more of a reaction than "netbook" or "hashtag".  To be "unfriended" actually means something to most of us.  The joy of a new "friending" on Facebook is countered in equal measure by the dismay of a new "unfriending". 

When I discovered the loss of this particular "friend" -- a man with whom I had attended high school and only recently (romantically) reconnected with, only to be stood up (see previous post -- "Rude Is the New Black") a week and a half later, I was a bit taken aback.  The unfriending only added insult to injury.  So, of course, it was followed by a semi-public announcement to my New York family (R, J, and L) and laborious re-hashing and invectives.  Over-analysis is a particular strength of any group of ladies with higher-than-average intelligence, but we usually spend at least some time on trying to outline the good reasons for any behavior.  Often, we can even settle on a neutral explanation that allows us to avoid the work of actually being mad.  But, in the case of "unfriending" this has proven difficult to do.

Unfriending is excusable if one is having issues with breaches of privacy or harassment, or they are purging business contacts or people they don't really "know" or haven't talked to in a decade.  But, I have been similarly unfriended by men with some degree of past romantic attachment a few times in the last year, and each time none of these categories fit the bill.  In such cases, it is difficult to categorize unfriending as anything but a personal insult -- sending the message: "you offended me," "you are of no consequence to me," or "I just plain don't like you."  Ow, ow, and owwww.  Especially coming from someone who once gave you the butterflies.

This is where the community-building aspects of Facebook stray away from reality.  In the "real world", a community is built by connections, which notwithstanding all the outward appearances of friendship, are largely mental and emotional.  Intangible ties exist between members of that community.  In order to break those ties and leave a community (or eject another from your community), those ties must actually be deconstructed.  In other words, in real life, you have to actually get dumped.  And, break-ups are hard to effect face-to-face without some form of explanation of the reason for the dismissal.  You're still canned, but you have a better chance of knowing why.  And you can employ the "why" the next time you make a connection, hopefully, building stronger communal bonds as a result of prior adversity. 

Facebook, on the other hand, allows the bond to be "broken" with only one click.  I say "broken" in quotation marks because I believe there is some question over whether the bond formed on Facebook -- i.e. digitally -- doesn't somehow translate into an actual emotional/mental bond that outlasts the electronic connection.  In fact, I believe that, in many cases, it does.  We are a society of symbols -- team logos, religious icons, street signs.  And, often, the message communicated through symbolism is as strong as if it were spelled out word for word.  (Just ask the pastor who threatened to burn Korans on the anniversary of 9/11.)  To friend someone on Facebook may operate in a symbolic way to affirm the existence of a non-digital, totally human, otherwise intangible association.  Perhaps this is why unfriending has so much potential to hurt the unfriended.  To the unfriender, it may be just a click, a formality, an afterthought.  But, for the unfriended, it is as good as a break-up, without the benefit of explanation.  Not even "it's not you; it's me" to soften the blow.

The irony of Facebook is demonstrated here.  That is, a device which feeds needs we all have (for connection and community) that are so essentially human simultaneously allows us the opportunity to conduct ourselves in a way that is essentially inhuman, or at the least, inhumane.   I say "opportunity" however, because it is just that -- an opening to opt into incivility, not a command.  I think that we can learn a lot about ourselves in such situations.  Facebook has been called a (digital) social revolution, but while it has changed the way people socialize, it has not changed people.  Facebook does not change one's character, but reveals it.  So the question becomes: When we are presented with an opportunity on Facebook to take the route that is passive-aggressive, lazy, and/or comfortable -- do we take it?  Do we take breaking the bonds of community lightly while we know the other will take it hard?  Do we continue to demonstrate consideration of others feelings when there are no consequences for not doing so?  Are we intrinsically motivated to care? 

Based on personal experiences on both sides of the "unfriending", I tend to think that the reason Facebook so easily facilitates bad manners is because it is also missing another essential element of community connections -- physical interactions.  You can "stalk" someone's page until you feel that you know that person as well as you might have had you spent a respectable amount of time together.  But, the fact is that only actual interpersonal interaction yields the most accurate results when it comes to assessing and connecting with a personality.  Facebook allows us to access only a projection of a person, not the person him or herself.  So, while the positive benefits of Facebook feel pretty darn fulfilling at times, in reality, it is something of a shadow or an empty shell of community -- that can only be filled in by actual communing.  So, get out of the Facebook -- dance, sing, drink, chat, explore with your friends.  Let it be a tool, not a crutch.

For me, I am choosing to define myself by my "real" relationships with people who interact with me on a personal level.  While it is tempting, functioning primarily on a digital platform is ultimately unfulfilling, and anyone who would substitute genuine interaction, especially regarding sensitive issues, for digital signaling is not "real" enough for me.  The life I have cultivated outside of the digital world is more exciting, more fun, and more dramatic than anything I could have crafted online -- just ask the people I spent time with this weekend -- strangers became acquaintances, acquaintances became friends, and friends became family.  No photo album or comment section on Facebook could quantify or contain that joy for me.  And, as usual, New York City played venue to some true "community building":

Sing Sing St. Mark's (Karaoke)
St. Mark's Place between 2nd and 3rd Ave
The main bar area is smallish and serves as the stage for some of the stranger types in the crowd.  Of course, there are rooms available for reservation, if you're the shy type.  I came here around 1 a.m. with my friend from high school, M, and discovered his delightful singing talent!  Who knew?  That's the magic of karaoke.  Standing room only, but a great place to come after a night out to chuckle at the guy in the cowboy hat and leather vest.

Pianos
Stanton Street at Ludlow (Lower East Side)

Everyone and their brother knows Pianos already. But, I'll go ahead and review it anyway. Huge NYU crowd, but c'est la vie. The upper floor was comfy and crowded, and the dancing was pretty good. Not the best DJ on the night I was there, but it worked (I have heard rave reviews of the DJ, but was just not impressed). I have been here once before, and in my experience it is a pretty good place to meet people (that you don't already know). But, maybe that's just me.

The Stag's Head

Corner of E 51st Street and 2nd Ave

This place was pretty quiet for a Friday night and closed the roof top early, the middle floor next, and the bottom floor last.  Being moved around all night was a bit annoying.  But they had giant beer towers that the guys loved and cheap vodka sodas.

Sushi Lounge

St. Mark's Place and Avenue A

The neighborhood un-fancy sushi place.  It's actually delightfully Japanese, with modern Japanese kitch (read: anime and silly celebrity buttons) all over the place.  I actually didn't eat here.  I did have a cup of tea, which was not all that great and did not come with honey or splenda or anything to compensate.  But, R and L said the rice bowls were pretty tasty, and sushi is sushi, so....