I know the Olympics kicked off last week. People around the world felt united watching the opening ceremonies, and have spent the time since then cheering on athletes who have dedicated their lives pursuing physical perfection.
Meanwhile, instead of watching a torch be lit, I opted to watch mothers passing metaphorical batons to their daughters.
Instead of rooting for gifted athletes, I found myself rooting against glitzed-out girls.
Instead of trying to find some way to feel connected to people across the country and globe, I wanted the world to end.
But how else is one supposed to feel after watching four back-to-back episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras? (Go ahead and judge me now. I know I did. A lot.)
Two hours of #ToddlersAndTiaras comes out to a lot of blingy crowns and mascara-stained cheeks, let me tell you. It also made me wonder what our world is coming to.
That a show like this could exist, much less be a trending, spin-off inducing phenomenon, is astonishing!
But far more troubling is why I could not seem to tear myself away! (Apparently I’m not alone.)
I tried to pretend I was conducting research instead of killing brain cells. I didn’t want to believe that I could be helping create mini monsters; I was just observing their existence for educational (and future parenting) purposes, I reasoned with myself.
(Note to Self: If a prestigious company blurs its dolls’ faces to protect its reputation, perhaps your child should not be participating in that particular show.)
But the truth is, I was sucked in. Plain and simple.
It’s hard to turn away from a train wreck, after all, especially if the train wreck is dressed like Shirley Temple and doing Beyonce-like booty pops… an asthmatic six-year-old crying at a nail salon (understandably, as acrylics make nose picking notoriously difficult)… or, a ten-year-old having an anxiety attack because her $1,000 plus dollar dress is slightly longer in the front than in the back (the horror!).
Speaking of a train wreck, and worrisome trends, shall we go ahead and talk about the elephant in everyone’s newsfeeds?
The Chick-Fil-A debacle… is there anyone not thinking about chicken lately?
Everywhere I go someone’s debating the ethics of ordering a chicken biscuit, posting pictures of long lines and waffle fries, or declaring their disgust with those who patronized the place yesterday.
Invites to endorse it and invites to boycott it have been flooding my Facebook lately.
There have been times in the last week that I’ve felt short of breath, even more than at a loss for words. It’s just so engrossing, this latest battle in the culture war, so much so that even a political agnostic like me hasn’t felt safe in my foxhole.
I avoided the conversation as long as I possibly could (while secretly reading articles about it every night before bed), but last Friday it sort of bubbled up, like a well-fried, well, waffle fry. It happened while a friend and I were spending the afternoon at our old stomping grounds, a run down mall where we met for lunch, laughs and a lot of reminiscing.
Growing up we spent almost every Saturday at that mall, scoping hot boys from the food court, drinking Frulattis and trying to catch sales at American Eagle if you were me or being asked to consider modeling if you were her.
The friend's mom would drop us off at the Sear’s entrance and we’d spend the entire afternoon exploring Claire’s and giggling as we walked past Express’ men section (that was long before the days of Abercrombie).
It was a trip wandering those same hospital-like breezeways at 28, probably breathing that same re-circulated air.
And while I was glad to talk a bit about the good ol’ times, when cute cashiers could be conversational fodder for weeks and our biggest concerns were whether to go with the pink or blue graphic tees… I reailized that my days of mindless mall wandering are gone.
The sort of completely self-centered, one-sided thinking I let rule my teens can no longer capture my thoughts. And that's a big part of why I steered our lunch conversation toward something that could not have been stolen straight out of a scene from Clueless.
Watching a trainwreck (or a war wage on), is a lot like watching trashy T.V.
It may make you uneasy and worry about what the world is coming to... but it is difficult to know when to speak up and what to say... or when to shut it off.
You want to be relevant. To be in the know, and up with pop culture... but at what cost?
It's easy to drown in the problems before finding a moral solution to the dilemma.
Ten years ago I would have never dreamed choosing “the original chicken sandwich,” complete with pickles, would be such a polarizing decision. (Much less that neon pink spandex would make a comeback so soon.)
Back then I was worried about people judging me for putting mayo on my fries, or for that ill-advised poodle perm I got freshman year… but I never worried I’d be a casualty in a culture war hinging on chicken.
Had I posted pictures of our food Friday (the way I’m nerdily prone to do) I knew I'd likely be de-friended by half my acquaintances and undeservingly praised by the others.
Even carrying around my Styrofoam cup of sweet tea I felt like a “bigot,” and a bad Southern Baptist for not being proud of my patronage, all at the same time.
I felt trapped. Like I couldn’t make a right decision. And I think that fear, that uneasiness, is what led me to start the conversation I’d been avoiding for so long.
At that point, sitting there in the food court, I just had to tell her, someone, anyone, how I really felt. And even though I felt spazzy and inarticulate fumbling over my words, and all the misinformation I’d received up to that point, I did it.
I talked. We talked. Openly. Honesty. Candidly.
While opening barbecue sauce and eating the crispy chicken that could be considered a capital offense in some circles, we talked about our personal convictions and the ramifications of our lunch selection.
But most importantly, we talked about the Christ that keeps finding himself in the midst of all this madness (and what we suspect He might say about the Cathy's food chain controversy).
Though I was reluctant to open up at first, it felt good to let out some thoughts… to discuss a fear I’ve been wrestling about my faith and what it means to be a Christian in today’s world.
The gist of what we talked about had to do with our shared love of Jesus, what He stands for and what He did with His time on the earth. I think we both agreed that it’s more important that we do right by Him than that we’re liked by anyone else.
It’s a bummer, though, feeling like you’ll be bullied by people on both sides for not taking a strong enough stance in this Chicken Dance of sorts. It's frustrating not being able to hear a still, small voice over the constant chatter of extremists on both sides of the chicken nuggets.
What ever happened to Switzerland, and staying neutral when the fight heats up? That doesn't seem to cut it in a nation divided by chicken!
I told my friend I think “The Church” is getting it pretty wrong if the message being preached is turning more people away than beckoning them in.
And it sure seems that many of the Chick-Fil-A rights activists are turning a lot of people off in their pursuit of pointing out sins, and/or trying to protect our civil liberties... those are the messages that seem to be coming through much more than the love and grace and gift of forgiveness found throughout the Bible.
And that bothers me.
In all fairness, though, it’s not like the boycotters are all above reproach. ‘Cause when you’re preaching tolerance degrading people’s choices is a quick way to lose credibility.
One Tweeter put it simply like this:
“We won’t tolerate your lack of intolerance.” “We’ll discriminate against you for discriminating against others.” #TheWorldHasGoneMad @gpackiam
I have read opinions, and seen tax records, and well-balanced debates from people on both sides of this debacle.
Gay and straight. Christian and non. There are compelling arguments coming from both camps, about freedom of speech and financial support of organizations with questionable ethics.
No one is getting it all right. Few people are getting it all wrong!
But, there’s been an awful lot of fear mongering and finger pointing and behavior that makes my stomach crawl.
It’s a shame the loudest voices in this “war” (like most) seem to be the most extreme, and often ignorant.
I guess what it’s boiling down to is that I’ve seen a lot of tantrums. Not-so-veiled threats. Trash talking. And blind support in recent weeks. What I have not seen nearly enough of is compassion, respect and efforts at understanding… on both sides of this salty debate.
What’s a girl to do?
I know there are people feeling far more personally affected by all this than me. I know there are restaurant workers, and people with same-sex partners, who have been deeply hurt by how this entire situation has been handled. And I can't begin to empathize with what they have gone through.
What I can do is care enough to really think before making decisions about the chicken... more importantly I can weigh my words and strive to expresmy choices with the utmost respect and courtesy.
Since last Friday a lot has changed for me personally. Namely, that one conversation – the one I was so afraid to have with my oldest friend – has led to two more.
And while they were all uncomfortable at first, I’m so glad to have had them. Because, those conversations renewed my belief that it’s possible to have open dialogue with people whose opinions might differ from my own.
It’s possible to respect someone and disagree, without jumping to conclusions or judgment. It's possible... just tough!
It’s pretty easy to put an opinion on the internet these days, let’s be honest.
It’s a lot harder to read others’ with an open mind.
It’s easy enough to buy a chicken sandwich, or to vow to never eat at a certain fast food joint again.
It’s harder to care more about living with character than coming out on top. (And by character I don't mean a holier-than-thou attitude; I mean living graciously!)
And yes, it’s hard to resist that toddler-like temptation in all of us, to turn up the volume when we don’t get our way.
Our society has taught us (like those pushy pageant moms) that we should be unsatisfied with anything but winning.
Most people (at least the loud ones in this debate) don’t just want freedom to make their own choices; they want to persuade everyone to join their team, pitting anyone who disagrees against them, as an enemy.
And in this process of choosing chicken sides, people are being mislabeled, as always happens in a political crossfire.
And frankly I'm sick of it. SICK!
Yes, we could continue creating a scene – stirring up controversy - trying to be seen, and appreciated, and truly understood…
But we could also go with an older, more radical, way of changing the world.
We could seek justice. Love mercy. And walk humbly, with or without bags of Chick-Fil-A in tow.
We could seek to treat each other as we long to be treated. With respect.
Put simply, we could start caring about people more than chicken.
And maybe, if we were to do that, we could start having conversations that go beyond our food preferences. Maybe then we could talk openly, honestly and respectfully about any number of things… like whether we’re on Team Kyra or Team Kailia.
That’s my two cents, anyways, on this whole chicken debate.
Silver Lining: I suddenly feel less silly about taking so many chicken pictures last spring.
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